#chojuro x sakura | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

silverfootstepswrites · 7 years

Text

title Retro summary Sometimes we pretend to forget or we forget to pretend. pairing itasaku, tobisaku, hot messes

There was dried blood under her fingernails. Sakura picked at it a few times. But she couldn’t quite reach. When she huffed, something tapped her shoulder.

“Here, Boss,” Sai said, handing over his knife. She nodded at him. She began using the blade to pick her nails clean. Rocking back on her heels, she dug into a particularly stubborn clump.

A whimper rose in front of her. Sakura glanced up. She watched the man attempt to wiggle away from her. Blood smeared across his mouth, gushing out from the gaps in his teeth. He slipped against the clear plastic draped across the floor and the walls.

“You know, it’s bad manners not to clean up after yourself. What’re going to do with this, Sai?” questioned Sakura, resuming cleaning her nails. As she spoke, she heard metal chair legs scrape against the concrete. Tenten’s heels clicked over to them.

“You said that this one was selling underage girls?” asked Tenten.

“Yeah,” Sai confirmed.

“I’ll take care of it,” Tenten said, cracking her knuckles.

From the corner, Chojuro didn’t speak. He kept his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His head jerked up when Sakura held her hand out to him. He crossed the room, avoiding the biggest puddles of blood and broken teeth. Looking unsure, he grasped Sakura’s hand and hauled her up to her feet.

“Deui m’jyu, Aunt Cheng. I was assured that this man was Ghost. I should have checked again,” he apologized, bowing until his torso was parallel to the floor.

Sakura grasped his face, squeezing his cheeks together in her hand. Staring into his eyes, she didn’t smile.

“Find him, Charlie Lau,” she simply ordered. Pushing him aside, she strode out of the room. Sai spared him a nod before he hurried out after her. They had almost made it out of the warehouse, out onto the dock before the screams started again. The guards slammed the steel doors shut behind them. That muffled most of the sound.

“Diu,” grumbled Sakura, hands on her hips. She kicked at a pebble, sending it flying into the water.

“We’ll find him, boss. Charlie Lau can find anyone. He just needs more time,” Sai assured her.

“I tell him to find me Ghost and he brings me some fucking used car salesman? Yau mo gaau lan choh?” she swore. Sai held both his hands up, nervous grin in place.

“Now, now. We know that he was paid by someone to spread rumors that he was Ghost. That’s a lead, isn’t it?” he suggested.

Sakura heaved a sigh. She made a grabbing motion. Sai dug in his pockets for a smoke. He pulled one out of the slightly-crushed box and placed it in her hand. Cupping his hand around his lighter, he leaned in to light it for her. Sakura took several deep drags on her cigarette before she spoke again.

“He has to be in Kobe. Why else plant a decoy in some random ward?” Sakura conjectured. Sai nodded, hands slipping into the pockets of his crisp black suit.

“I’ll watch over this. You should get some rest,” Sai suggested, jerking his shoulder towards the warehouse. Sakura blew out a long, thin stream of smoke. She put her hands in her pockets too. Her shoulders hunched forward.

“I think I’ll take a look around Nankinmachi. See if I can get in touch with anyone useful,” Sakura said.

“Ah. That’s right. I forgot that there’s a Chinatown in this city too,” mused Sai.

The Chinatown in Kobe wasn’t nearly as big as the one in Yokohama. And it was significantly sleeker. The streets weren’t twisting and winding with dark alleys for strange things to take place. It was clean, cluttered with stands selling steamed buns and roast duck. Red lanterns were strung between the shops. And she heard more Japanese than Mandarin or Cantonese being spoken as people passed.

Sakura paused at a bakery, eyeing the little cakes in the refrigerated case. And then she walked past, her lips twisting together.

The fragrance of spice and fried dough clogged her nostrils. Sakura closed her eyes for an instant. Wondered how just a smell could take her back to childhood so easily. Sticky hands splitting a pork bun. Steam wetting her nose as she leaned in to gobble it down.

But these clean streets held nothing for her. At the end of the row, she did a half-turn on her heel. She looked back at the glowing signs. Disappointed, somehow, even though she had promised to expect nothing.

As she passed by a noodle shop, someone standing outside offered her a flyer.

“Spring special! Only today!” he chirruped. Sakura pushed the leaflet aside.

“No thanks,” she replied. But he pushed the flyer in her face.

“Half-off!” he insisted. Heaving a sigh, she grabbed the flyer, crumpling it in her fist.

“I said no,” snapped Sakura, glaring. She froze when she recognized the face in front of her. He grinned.

“Ah. Not as sharp as we were in our youth, are we?” he teased, yanking the flyer back. She bared her teeth in a smile.

“How did you know I would be here?” she demanded. His long fingers grasped her forearm like spindly spider’s legs.

“I have my ways, Jing-Mei,” he simply replied. Her eyes narrowed.

“What do you want?” Sakura questioned. He shrugged, hands encased in black gloves.

“What do we all want? Love, fame, fortune,” he sighed, hand on his cheek. The other tightened on her arm.

“I’ll cut that fucking hand off if you don’t tell me,” Sakura threatened, teeth clenching in a smile. His grip loosened.

“Oh, well I just heard that you were looking for me. This is the thanks I get for trying help you out?” he sighed.

“Bullshit,” she challenged. The man didn’t bat an eyelash.

“Couldn’t go around just using my real name. It would attract too much attention,” he explained. She arched an eyebrow.

“I found you,” she pointed out, voice flat. Wrenching out of his grip, she dusted off her arm, like his touch had dirtied her. His mouth only stretched into a grin.

“My, my, Miss Haruno, you should know by now. You’re all the attention I’ll ever want or need,” he simpered. She grimaced.

“Get to the point,” she snarled.

“I’ll come to you. Since you came all the way to Kobe to see me,” he said.

Sakura scoffed, tongue clicking against the back of her teeth.

“Fine,” Sakura retorted. And then she turned on her heel, striding away from him as quickly as possible. Her eyes darted around as she walked. She scanned the crowd for lingering stares or sudden movements. Satisfied that she wasn’t being followed, she looked down at her arm.

Sakura felt under her sleeve and around the edges of the cuff. She found a small disc stuck to the lining of her jacket. Ripping it out, she dropped it on the concrete. She crushed it under her foot. As she ground her heel against the pavement, she looked over her shoulder. Found Ghost still watching her, smile squeezing his eyes into slivers. Found something in that stare that made her skin crawl.

So she shed her entire coat and dumped it into a trash can as she strode past. Sakura raised her phone to her ear. Waited through two rings.

“Boss?” Tenten said.

Sakura could hear plastic rustling in the background. They were probably still stripping the sheeting off the walls and cleaning up.

“We’re heading back to Ginza. Now,” Sakura ordered.

“What?”

“I’ll explain later. Get the car ready,” she snapped. Tenten let out a long sigh but then replied, “Got it, Boss.” Just before she hung up, Sakura heard Tenten barking at the underlings to hurry up.

Tommy Wong was nervous. Which was a rare occurrence in itself. He tapped his business card against the desk, eyes darting around. Grinding a toothpick between his front molars, he twisted to look out the window again.

When the door opened, he got off the desk. Straightened his tie out of habit.

Uchiha Itachi stared at him, hand still in his pocket. Kisame froze too, still holding the door open.

“Deidara-san,” Itachi greeted him after a beat. He extended his hand and Tommy shook it.

Sasori appraised the triad. His gaze flickered from the blond to the window. Back to the boss.

“How can I help you?” asked Itachi. Tommy handed over the card. Itachi examined the front. It was the same card one he had received when they had first met. But when he flipped it over, he saw writing on the back in bright red ink.

Lotus & Bloom HK 3/26 19:00

Itachi looked up. Tommy was still fidgeting, his hands now crammed into both his pockets.

“Lotus & Bloom?” Itachi repeated, glancing down at the card again.

“It’s the boss’ favorite bar in Hong Kong,” replied Tommy. He mashed his lips together, examining his knuckles. And when he lifted his head, he looked Itachi square in the eyes.

“I’m not really sure what’s going on here, daai lou, but the Boss seemed pissed,” he admitted.

Kisame scoffed. “She’s always pissed at something or someone, kid.”

Itachi shook his head. He held up the card.

“She could have called me,” Itachi mused. At that, Tommy cracked a small smile. He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Just a word of advice for you if you do go, daai lou,” Tommy said. All three men looked at him again.

“Don’t get noticed in Hong Kong. You yakuza are no joke. But it’s a whole different show with the real triads,” warned Tommy. Kisame cracked his fingers, brass knuckles glinting. Itachi shook his head and Kisame stood down, still glowering.

“Are you saying that Jing-Mei isn’t a real triad?” Itachi asked.

“She is. But she plays a lot nicer...especially with you. The other guys...” Tommy trailed off, cringing. He shook his head.

“I’d be going as a guest of a Red Pole. Wouldn’t that give me some sort of protection?” Itachi queried. Tommy tilted his head this way and that, making a face.

“Sort of. But still, don’t risk it. And get a hotel in Central. Stay out of the other areas,” Tommy added. Dipping his head, he made his way out of the office. Kisame moved to the window to watch him leave. He crossed the street and got into a black car that had been waiting for him. Kisame glared at it while it drove off.

“The 26th? That’s only a few days away, Kumicho,” Sasori pointed out, glancing down at his phone. He swiped his finger across the calendar, looking ahead. “You don’t look especially busy next week, but who knows.”

“That doesn’t matter. Book me the next flight out to Hong Kong. I want to go alone,” declared Itachi. And before either of his subordinates could object, Itachi pinned them with a glare. Sasori opened his mouth, shut it, and began looking up tickets on his phone.

“I need you two here to look after things for me,” Itachi added more quietly. Sasori quirked a smile.

“Just for that, I’ll get you the hotel room with the better view,” he announced, typing in credit card information.

March in Hong Kong was dreary and humid. A light rain seemed to fall over the island continuously. And if it wasn’t raining, there was fog. A soft mist that engulfed the entire city. Just the muted lights from the high-rises shone out in the evening.

Sakura leaned back in her chair, spinning to face the window. At the haze that covered the harbor.

“Is that all, Jing-Mei?”

“No, one last thing, Uncle,” Sakura replied. She glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall.

“Yes?”

Sakura hesitated, eyeing one particular date. Closing her eyes, she pretended it wasn’t there anymore. She let out a sigh.

“Actually, it’s fine. Have a good night, Uncle,” she said. They ended the call and Sakura let her head slump back. She closed her eyes, letting out another deep breath. She opened them again when she heard rain begin to patter against the window. Stubbing her cigarette out in the ash tray, she opened her eyes to glare up at the ceiling.

Her phone buzzed. Alerting her of an appointment at Lotus & Bloom in half an hour. Breath hissing out between her teeth, Sakura stood. She stared out at the buzzing city below. At the cars zipping down the freeway and the thousands of businesses blinking their signs.

“Tenten,” Sakura said.

“Yeah,” the other woman replied from the sofa in the corner.

“We might have to clean up a body tonight. Have the boys stand by,” Sakura ordered as she pulled on her blazer. Tenten nodded, flipping to the next page in her book.

“Right, Boss,” she replied, completely unfazed.

Zabuza picked her up outside and dropped her off at a towering building. The bottom few floors sported huge windows that glowed cyan. The doorman bowed low for her as she walked past. The downstairs lobby was dazzling as always with its marble floors and high ceilings. The crystal chandelier in front of the elevator filled the space with a warm yellow light.

The ride up to the 7th floor was short. But when the doors slid open, the hostess was already waiting, panic brightening her eyes.

“Good evening, Ma’am. Is your usual table alright?” she asked, hands shaking as she gripped the menu to her chest. Sakura barely looked at her as she nodded. Instead, she glanced around the restaurant. It was busy, even on a Monday night. The bartender met her eyes and nodded in the middle of rattling a cocktail shaker around in his hands.

The hostess led her upstairs. There was a separate bar and lounge up here, along with a few tables. But these spaces were spread apart for privacy. She led Sakura to the table in the corner with a view over the rest of the restaurant.

“Can I get you a Pinot Noir?” the hostess asked as she took Sakura’s damp coat. She draped it over her arm, careful not to wrinkle it. Sakura shook her hair out of her collar after she settled in the booth. She nodded. And the girl dipped her head before she scurried off.

Lotus & Bloom hadn’t been a cheap buy. She had admired the place ever since Hashirama had taken her here many years ago. It was an industrial-style restaurant with black window frames and exposed brick walls. The bar counters were made of shining black stone while the sides were covered in dark wood. Candles flickered on each table and each windowsill. The entire place was filled with a soft golden glow and the smells of steak.

The restaurant raked in an impressive amount of money each month. But more than that, she liked coming here to have a drink every once in a while. It helped that the entire staff was petrified of her and gave the finest service when she was there.

Sakura’s gaze swept over the other tables on the second floor. One of the other tables was occupied. The restaurant pretended that the second floor was reserved for VIPs only. But Sakura knew it was to keep the triads separated from the regular civilians. The top floor was empty today- just the way she liked it.

Just as her Pinot Noir arrived, Sakura heard the elevator doors open. She could see Itachi walk into the restaurant. She almost smiled when she saw the bouquet in his left hand. He glanced down at something before he spoke to the hostess in English.

The girl listened, smile fading more and more. And then she looked up at the second floor, met Sakura’s gaze. Sakura nodded. The girl motioned for Itachi to follow her as she came upstairs. Her heels clicking against the gleaming wood. She gestured at the table with both hands, eyes darting from him to Sakura over and over again.

Itachi was dressed in a slim black suit. His maroon tie had a faint gold pattern on it. He offered her the bouquet. Lavender roses- somewhere between grey and purple. She took them, fingers skimming across the soft petals. She didn’t smile, but he did as he settled in the chair across from her. Sakura didn’t tear her eyes from him as she spoke to the hostess.

“Another Pinot Noir for my guest.”

The girl nodded several times, hurrying off again. Sakura set the flowers on the seat beside her, the plastic crinkling.

Itachi held out his hand to her. Eyes gleaming softly. Sakura hesitated, trying to read the intention in his eyes. But when she could nothing, she relinquished her hand. Said nothing when he grasped it to bring it to his lips.

“It’s been a while. You haven’t answered my calls. I was beginning to worry,” Itachi greeted her. Sakura pulled her hand back.

“This isn’t a pleasant occasion, Itachi,” she retorted. His smile dissolved. Eyebrows knitting together as he studied her.

“What is it then?” Itachi questioned in return. Sakura crossed her arms across her chest, looking away. She waited for a waiter to come with his wine. The young man didn’t bother to take her order. He knew better than to bother her. Only after the waiter was gone did Sakura look at Itachi again.

“Your uncle is alive,” she informed him.

“Yes. I’m aware of that,” replied Itachi.

“Well, when he went silent all those years ago, most of us assumed your father had just had him killed,” Sakura spelled out for him. Itachi shook his head.

“He was still my father’s younger brother. But all of his activities were causing problems for the rest of us,” Itachi recalled. Sakura’s expression soured.

“Yes. Activities. Like how he stabbed me in the back with a filet knife,” Sakura retorted, teeth clenching. Itachi reached across the table. She moved her hand away, still glowering.

“Like stabbing you,” Itachi amended. “I’m sorry. I did forget about that.”

“And his fondness for explosions was drawing the wrong sort of attention from the authorities. So my father allowed him to take his men and some money to settle down in Osaka. They’re the Kobe-Uchiha-gumi now,” explained Itachi.

“Yes. The Kobe-Uchiha-gumi led by Uchiha Madara. A.k.a. Ghost,” Sakura added, tone snippy. She watched the realization filter through his face. Saw the gears turning.

“Ghost?” repeated Itachi. But she knew he didn’t need her to repeat it.

“Someone smart enough to steal plates from the triads. To hire Suns to pose as 24k. But also stupid enough to shoot at my club,” Sakura listed, her voice suddenly sharp. She drank her wine in one long gulp. Slammed the glass down onto the table. The bartender flinched and tried to play it off as a cough.

Itachi stared at her, fingers wrapping around the stem of his own glass.

“...And you mean to tell me that you had no idea this was going on?” she went on to accuse. Itachi’s eyes narrowed.

“On my life. I swear,” he replied, voice low.

“Liar,” she snorted in return.

Itachi took a sip of his wine. Placed the glass back down in slow, measure movements.

“How did you find this out?” asked Itachi.

“He found me in the Chinatown in Kobe. Promised me that he would find me in Ginza. So of course, I got the hell out,” Sakura retorted. Her back twinged with pain at the mere memory of him. The Triads loved to pride themselves on being more volatile than the yakuza. And while she usually agreed, Madara was in a whole different category of psycho. Her back ached with old pain at the mere memory of his leer.

“My uncle and I don’t speak. He still thinks that he should have taken over the Uchiha-gumi, not me. My father letting him split off was to prevent an outright war,” Itachi replied, frowning. He took another drink of his wine.

“If you’re really not involved with any of this, I’d stay out of Tokyo for a while too,” Sakura warned. Itachi’s eyes narrowed over the rim of his glass.

“What do you think he wants?” Itachi inquired.

“He’s a man, so I want to say sex and power. But I’m not so certain with him,” Sakura replied, shrugging. She rested her cheek in her left hand. Something about her expression made Itachi pause. Because she could see him open his mouth with one intention. Close it. Open his mouth with a new one.

“Is that want you really think?” he queried, voice suddenly soft.

“It’s what I know,” Sakura corrected him. A smile slipped through. She didn’t have the energy to quash it.

“Even you, Uchiha Itachi,” Sakura added.

He met her eyes, saying nothing else. When his hand moved toward her, she didn’t pull away. Let him cover her fingers with his. He let out a deep breath, such an affected sigh. It hardly seemed right in this situation.

“Shall we go then?” he suggested. Half-smile curling his lips.

“Go where?” Sakura challenged, voice flat. Itachi’s fingers curled around hers. She didn’t move.

“To my hotel,” answered Itachi.

“For?”

“Dinner. Since you don’t seem keen on eating here. And I’m rather hungry,” he replied. She rolled her eyes.

“Dinner,” she scoffed.

“Just dinner. I swear,” Itachi repeated, his face solemn.

He found them a taxi back to his hotel. He was staying at one of the most expensive places in Central. The slate-colored tower was infamous for its white and gold lobby. It was so esoteric that it wasn’t uncommon for movie crews to come in to film futuristic scenes in the atrium.

Itachi’s room was up on the 12th floor. It had a sweeping view of Victoria Harbor, which was currently obscured, still, by fog. And to top it off, it had started raining on the ride over. Sakura sat on the windowsill, tracing the shape of the city with her eyes.

“I have no idea what gravlax is,” Itachi said. Sakura turned her head to him. Found him standing by the phone with a menu in his hands.

“It’s cured salmon,” she replied, a smile curling at her lips. She watched him read through the dishes. His expression was quite serious. And she could see his eyebrows rise and fall depending on whether he found something appealing or not. It took him a minute to notice her staring. He stepped over to the window to show her the menu.

“What sounds good to you? The oysters sound nice,” Itachi remarked. She could smell his cologne. Noticed that his suit wasn’t actually a solid color but actually a very faint pinstripe.

“Anything is fine. I don’t have any allergies,” she said. But he held the menu closer to her.

“Choose something. There’s a difference between not-hating something and enjoying it, you know,” Itachi insisted. Sighing, Sakura skimmed over the menu. Found that the dishes actually sounded quite nice. She pointed.

“The risotto. And the halibut,” she read parts of the titles. Itachi’s eyebrows rose the highest that she had seen them yet.

“Miso butter and halibut does sound amazing,” he mused. Something about his enthusiasm felt out of place. She wasn’t used to his face being quite so animated. He read for another minute before he headed back over to the phone on the nightstand. He dialed the number for room service. Then paused.

“I know that you’re partial to reds, but would white be alright? We are having seafood,” Itachi asked.

“Sure,” Sakura replied, barely hiding her smile.

She listened to Itachi order dinner, the patter of rain a gentle accompaniment to his voice. His reflection appeared in the window. She saw him unbutton his jacket and drape it over the back of an armchair.

“Sakura.”

Felt his hand on her shoulder. And scolded herself for having half-believed him for even a second.

“You said ‘just dinner’,” she said, turning toward him. Itachi raised both his hands up.

“I did. I just wanted to take your coat. No sense in eating dinner in it, right?” Itachi said. The surprise in his eyes was genuine. And that surprised her back.

Sakura shrugged out of the beige jacket. Her eyes followed him as he went around the corner to hang it up in the closet. And when he returned, he found her looking out the window again.

“If I didn’t know you any better, I’d guess that you’ve never seen rain before,” remarked Itachi. He joined her on the windowsill. Leaving a little bit of space between them.

Sakura pressed her palm to the cool glass.

“I love this city. It’s so pretty. Even in the rain,” replied Sakura. She heard him let out a long breath. Heard him shift.

“It is,” he agreed. When she looked over, he was pulling out his golden cufflinks, folding his sleeves up to his elbows.

“What are you doing?” Sakura finally asked as she watched him loosen his tie and unbutton the top button of his shirt. Itachi glanced over at her.

“What do you mean? I’m relaxing. It’s just the two of us,” replied Itachi. He looked over his shoulder, out at the view of the city again.

“I can’t believe it’s so warm here. I was still wearing my winter coat in Tokyo,” remarked Itachi. Even his voice sounded different. Flowing more easily, like warm water. Sakura crossed her arms across her chest. His gaze flickered to her.

“Have I said this yet? You look really nice,” he remarked. Her arms tightened.

She was wearing a lacy black dress under a teal blazer. Her sleeves only reached down to her forearm. The tail of the red phoenix tattoo peeked out. There was nothing lecherous about Itachi’s gaze, but it still felt strange. He wasn’t in her personal space, but he still felt too close.

“Thank you,” she replied, feeling small next to him. As she shifted, she felt a pack of cigarettes in her jacket pocket. She stood up.

“I need a smoke. I’ll be back,” she announced. Didn’t want for his reply as she grabbed an ashtray off the dresser and slipped onto the balcony. She closed the door behind her. Almost didn’t mind the way that the muggy air engulfed her. Her face felt wet, even though the balcony was well-sheltered against the rain.

Cupping her hand around the lighter, she lit the cigarette. Listened to the sizzle mix with the rain falling harder now. Sakura stuck her hands into the pockets of her jackets, leaning against the edge of the balcony. She sucked down several breaths, biting the tip of her cigarette between her front teeth.

Sakura burned through that one. The nicotine eased her nerves a little. And then she lit up a second one. And it filled her head, made her a little dizzy. She was halfway through that one when she heard the door slide open behind her.

“You’ve been out here a while. Are you alright?” he said, sounding a little apologetic.

“I’m fine,” she replied.

There was a pause.

“...Can I join you?” Itachi then asked.

Sakura didn’t say anything, but she moved over to make space for him. Itachi stepped outside. He settled in beside her. Stared out at the grey-covered city with her.

Sakura let out a shaky breath. She tapped her cigarette against the ashtray, avoiding his eyes. She could feel his gaze on her now. Listened to the rain pouring down from the heavens. Like a thousand marbles clattering down on the roofs. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Itachi pull out his cigarette case. Opened it with a flick of his wrist.

“I’m making you uncomfortable,” he said. Heard his lighter flick several times. She turned her head toward him. Saw him glare down at his lighter. He looked up. Their eyes met.

“It wasn’t my intention to. So I’ll stop,” added Itachi.

Sakura leaned in, pressing the tip of her cigarette to his. Studied him through her eyelashes. Watched him swallow. When smoke rose up between them, she drew back.

“You’re being awfully unguarded around me tonight, Kumicho. What are you even trying to do?” Sakura asked, her voice silken and low. Eyes narrowing in on him. Itachi mashed his lips together. He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth. Smoke leaked out with his next words.

“Honestly? I was hoping that if I relaxed a little, you would too,” he confessed.

“And you weren’t lying about just dinner?” Sakura pressed. Eyes boring into him like twin lasers.

“I wasn’t lying,” replied Itachi.

Sakura mashed her cigarette out in the ashtray. Left the sizzling butt standing upright. A ring of her lipstick marking the edge.

“Then you don’t have to stop,” she told him, slipping back inside. Itachi choked on his next breath. He put out his cigarette too, coughing as he followed her back inside.

#itasaku #triad!sakura x yakuza!itachi #writing #eastern suns #there was more but i'm cutting y'all off here #triad!au

91 notes · View notes

silverfootstepswrites · 7 years

Text

title Raise a glass summary When we can’t take back what’s been done. pairing itasaku, tobisaku, hot messes

“I need 50,000,” Sakura declared.

Tobirama paused, cigarette almost in his mouth. He lifted one foot onto the chair, the other resting flat on the concrete. And then he kissed the cigarette. Inhaling deeply, eyes locking with hers. Exhaling.

“You don’t have $50,000?” he asked. His eyes roved over her. Bare body tangled in the white sheets. She rested her chin in her hand. The phoenix on her arm flexing and rippling with the muscles underneath. The red garish against her skin.

“I didn’t say that,” she replied. Tobirama took another drag. His tongue circling the end of the cigarette. He exhaled to the side- watched the wind whisk his breath away. And then he faced forward again. Watched her through the open balcony door.

“Then what for?” he challenged. Something lurked in that expression. That smile, eyes gentle and mouth soft.

“Consider it an investment. You’ll be happy that you did,” insisted Sakura, rolling onto her back and stretching her arms over her head. His eyes narrowed.

“I give you 50,000 and you’ll make it multiply? Just like that?” he probed. He flicked the cigarette over the edge of the balcony. With a sigh, he got to his feet. Stepped back into the apartment. The door slid shut behind him. His shadow fell across her legs as he stood next to the bed. She stared up at him, her head tilting back, neck stretching.

“Tobirama,” she said, sounding hurt, “It’s like you don’t know me. I’m good at a lot of things. But there are exactly two things that I’m very good at…and one of those things is making money.”

Tobirama raised his eyebrows but didn’t try to deny it. The last time he had loaned her a couple of men, she had blown up a warehouse- along with one of his vans. She had replaced it, of course, with an identical van filled to bursting with neatly-rolled stacks of money. That was just the kind of person she had always been.

“What’s the other thing?” he asked. He stepped closer, shadow pooling across her thighs. His leg brushed against her foot. He took a step closer. His shadow moved to engulf her. He rested his knee on the bed.

“I wonder,” answered Sakura. Before she could roll away, his arms caged her in. His face hovered over hers. A lazy smirk spread across his lips. His eyelashes brushed against hers.

“No. Explain it for me, Jing-Mei,” he insisted. The smell of ash clung to his every breath. Sakura glanced down and then back up at his face.

“Well, it seems like part of you gets it, at least,” Sakura observed. She laid still when he bent his head to bite the side of her neck. Not enough to break the skin. Just enough that when he pulled back, the white indentations of his teeth lingered. Faded more and more with each quickening heartbeat.

She smiled, eyes beckoning him in. But then he thought of something that made him stop. She froze too.

“Wait. Don’t tell me this ‘investment’ involves me losing my limbs later,” he accused. Sakura stuck her lower lip out.

“Not any of the ones you like, anyway,” she answered. Tobirama glared.

“I like all my limbs, Jing-Mei.”

“Then I guess you’ll be fine,” Sakura declared. Putting on a coy smile, she trailed her finger down his chest, down his stomach. And just when he thought she would touch him, she sat back, expression smug. His hands traced down her thighs instead. The sounds of her dragging, trembling breaths filled his ears. Echoing against the insides of his emptying skull.

Tobirama’s eyes flew open. He pressed his palm to his temple, squinting up at the ceiling. The inside of his mouth felt dry. Hashirama leaned over him, a bamboo skewer hanging out of his mouth.

“It’s rare for you to sleep so soundly. Did you have a good dream?” asked the Dragon Head. He walked away. Tobirama draped his arm over his face. He watched the fan turn in lazy circles above.

“…Maybe?” Tobirama replied, trying to sort through the scrambled images and sounds. He knew who he had dreamt about. But for some odd reason, he couldn’t remember how he had felt. He sat up. The sofa in the back of the karaoke bar wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, but it worked. Hashirama returned, a fresh skewer in his hand. Tobirama squinted at the yellow balls impaled on it.

“What are you eating?” he demanded.

“Siu mai. You want one? They’re pork,” answered Hashirama, dunking the dumpling into soy sauce in a clear plastic cup. Tobirama made a face. He stood and made his way to the tiny bathroom. He washed his face and neck with cold water. Hands gripping the edges of the grimy sink, he stared at the water swirling down the drain. He caught Hashirama’s reflection crossing the room.

There was a rectangular window that stared down at the club’s main dance floor. The floor tiles lit up in garish colors in time to the music. The security monitors on the other side of the room showed the private karaoke rooms. Hashirama stood at the window, his hands crossed behind his back.

“This place seemed more fun when we were younger,” remarked Hashirama. Tobirama wiped his face on his sleeve. He pushed off the sink and went to join his older brother. His palm dragged across the silver stubble on his jaw before he leaned against the window.

“It wasn’t,” Tobirama stated. Hashirama sighed.

“Maybe.”

Sakura’s phone rang at precisely 9 am. Her fingers stilled on the keyboard. The notification popped up in the right corner of her screen. Although, even without it, she could have guessed who it was. He called around the same time each day. And this, he told her, was just because-

“I wanted to hear your voice.”

Sakura picked her phone off the counter and raised it to her ear.

“Wei,” she said.

“Good morning,” Itachi greeted her.

“Good morning,” she sighed in return. Because she knew he would keep saying it until she did too. She used her left hand to type in a few more words and numbers.

“Did you have breakfast?” asked Itachi. Sakura glanced at the cooling bowl that she had pushed aside earlier. She had picked out the fried peanuts and Chinese cruller out, leaving most of the rice.

“I had some congee and coffee,” she answered. He waited until she told more of the truth. “And there was maybe some amaretto in the coffee.” He chuckled.

“Even when you’re being bad, it’s with class, Sakura,” he commented. The admiration in his voice was nothing new. But Sakura caught herself smiling anyway. She banished the expression. Resumed scrolling through the file. Once it looked good, she sent it back to Charlie. She closed the laptop.

“Ah, now I have your full attention,” Itachi said with relief. She frowned.

“How did you-”

“Relax. I didn’t bug your apartment. I could hear you typing,” he interrupted her before she could even voice her full suspicion.

“I’d kill you,” she threatened, voice suddenly filled with ice.

“Probably,” he agreed.

That took her by surprise. “What are you even trying to achieve by calling me like this?” she queried.

“I told you. I like hearing your voice, Jing-Mei,” he replied. She let out another long sigh. And then he went so quiet that she wondered if the call had dropped. But then she heard a lighter flick.

“Do you…by any chance… not like that name?” asked Itachi.

Sakura considered this. Her eyes closed. She heard Itachi exhale deep and soft from the other end of the line. She could imagine the smell of his smokes. The way the haze rose from his mouth, framing his nose and brow for an instant.

“I…don’t know,” she said. And he chuckled.

“You don’t know if you don’t like your name?” he asked. Her eyes opened. For an instant, she felt like he was sitting next to her. Hand on his chin, gaze searching her. Like she was some kind of new map to explore.

It unsettled her.

“No. I don’t know what it is. But when you say it… “ Sakura hesitated. Her words pooled on the tip of her tongue, half-formed and half-coherent. She touched her fingers to her lips. Rubbed her knuckles along her drooping eyelids as she tried to gather the right ideas. An unbearable sadness gathered in her stomach.

“It’s nothing,” she sighed, suddenly exhausted. There was a long pause. She heard him exhale too. Could almost smell the smoke if she tried hard enough.

“Ji- Sakura, I won’t understand you if you don’t explain, you know,” Itachi said, his voice even and soft. Sakura bent her head, running her free hand through her hair. Scratching against the scalp.

“Then don’t understand me,” she snapped. Her forehead rested against the counter. She pulled her left arm over her face. It was silent on the other end of the line.

“I’m hanging up,” declared Sakura. She half-suspected that he had hung up already.

But he replied. “Okay. I’ll call you again tomorrow.”

She ended the call. And stayed that way, arm over her face, eyes squeezed shut. Gut writhing like a pit filled with snakes. When the phone rang again, she grabbed it too quickly. It wasn’t him again.

“Wei,” she said.

“I found Ghost, Aunt Cheng. He’s in Kobe,” Chojuro said right away. Sakura bolted upright. She leaned forward, as if that would help her hear better.

“Kobe?” she repeated. “Are you sure it’s the right guy? The one who was smuggling girls out of Tsim Sha Tsui and into Manila a few years back?”

“Yeah, Boss. Word is that he’s been trying to get back into business with the Russians. I think I figured out where he’s been hiding out too,” he reported. Sakura smiled.

“Charlie Lau,” she sighed, shaking her head, “You’re a gift.”

“What should I do, Boss?” Charlie asked. Sakura got up.

“I’ll be in Tokyo in two days. We’ll go then. Don’t call Chouji. I’m bringing Zabuza,” she directed, then hung up. She pulled her blazer on, then her heels. She was out on the foggy streets of Hong Kong, phone glued to her ear. Zabuza pulled up in front of her apartment a few minutes later. As she got into the car, she noticed his crooked collar and messy hair. Which was odd, because she’d never seen it out of a perfect quiff. Waxed and combed into submission.

“I’m sorry. Did I interrupt a date?” she queried. Zabuza glanced at her through the rearview mirror.

“Where to, Boss?” asked Zabuza, ignoring her teasing. Sakura crossed her arms over her chest.

“Sai Wan, near Mount Davis. I’ll give you directions as we get closer,” she instructed. Zabuza looked at her again. The reflection of his eyes wavered.

“You’re going to talk to Kabuto?” he guessed. Sakura smiled.

“Maybe,” she replied. Zabuza shook his head as he shifted the gears and pulled off the curb.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Boss,” he muttered.

“I haven’t gotten either of us killed yet,” she reminded him, smile in place.

The Red Arrow gang had set up an auto shop in one of the seedier parts of Sai Wan in the north-western corner of the island. After the HKPD had discovered and raided several of Kabuto’s fronts, he had been forced to move further west. Sakura continued to defend herself whenever this came up; Kabuto had been trying to take over her bus routes in the first place. And she hadn’t meant to expose his businesses. Besides, what kind of idiot ran a cockfighting ring in such a visible location?

Only Tenten was a true witness to that debacle. And only she knew that Sakura had intentionally steered into the building rather than away. They hid their smiles whenever the affair came up.

“It will serve as a good lesson about discretion,” Sakura pointed out to Hashirama. Smiling sweetly as Kabuto ground his teeth at her.

Out of 24k gangs, the Red Arrow boys were the least profitable and the least respected. When Orochimaru had been around, the Jade Gang had supported the scrawny Red Arrows with money and men. But Sakura had made it no secret that she couldn’t stand Kabuto. Orochimaru had always laughed at that. In the end, maybe he hadn’t cared so much either.

After Mad Dog Kakashi’s supposed death, the Mid-Levels should have been hers. After all, the Jade Gang had the best public image and some ties to the politicians in the city. In turn, the affluent residents of the Mid-Levels didn’t really seem to mind the Jade Gang’s presence near their homes. Once businesses and residents achieved a certain level of success, she sent someone over to persuade them to pay a reasonable monthly fee. In exchange, they would be under their protection. She never raised fees without warning and never went back on her word. She also kept dealers and hoodlums out of the territory.

“Does a cat sleep in its own shit in the litter box?” she always said when asked why.

A few years ago, on the day of Mad Dog’s funeral, one Red Pole was absent. Kabuto had lead his boys into the Mid-Levels to begin shaking down residents and making his mark. A few civilians had even called Sakura during the funeral, gunfire and screams echoing behind them. The incense was still burning in front of Mad Dog’s portrait. Wavering against that crooked smile and squinting eyes.

“Uncle,” Sakura said, turning to Hashirama. The shrieks and explosions still blared through the speaker of her phone. She ended the call. Hashirama answered with a stony face, his lips tight. And beside him, Tobirama’s face was grim too.

“You can’t let this go, Uncle. Mad Dog may have been a fool, but he was our brother,” Sakura reminded him. His hands trembled with rage. He raised one, touching his temple, the other slipping into his pocket. Closing his eyes, he let out a long, shaking breath.

“Go,” he whispered. Sakura nodded. And then she lingered, eyes tracing over the empty coffin. Hashirama opened his eyes when he realized that she was still there.

Sakura bent her head and kissed the top of the coffin. Her burgundy lipstick lingering on the shining wood. And then she strode off, black heels tapping against the stone. She ripped her coat off as she walked. Tenten and Sai hurried to catch up to her. Sai took her coat. They saw Zabuza sprinting across the cemetery ahead of them to bring the car around.

Sakura reached under her dress, pulling her gold Desert Eagle out. She held it in her right hand, checking over its parts to make sure that it would fire smoothly.

“Call the boys. We’re going to need some firepower. But don’t let anyone kill him. I want him in front of the Dragon Head,” Sakura ordered.

It was a bloody couple of months. But the residents of the Mid-Levels sighed with relief when the Jade Gang prevailed. The Jade Gang lost a few men, but in the end, they were able to deliver what Sakura had asked for.

Kabuto, before the Chairman in an old warehouse, blood caked on his split lip. Squinting down at the floor out the eye that hadn’t swelled shut.

It wasn’t so much the mess that had upset Hashirama. Although, the Dragon Head wasn’t a fan of being in the news. It made it harder for everyone when the police was on high alert. It was skipping the funeral that had ignited his rage. Failing to respect the memory of a fallen brother. This Dragon Head valued loyalty and honor above all else.

“As promised, Uncle,” Sakura said, pushing Kabuto onto his knees. She dealt him an extra kick between the shoulders for good measure. And then she looked up at Hashirama. He was like a statue, barely even breathing. The stillness terrified her.

Sometimes she forgot, when he was in his nice shirts and pressed pants, that she had once watched him beat a rich man to death with his own golf clubs. Still, when Hashirama motioned for her to step closer, she obeyed. Tried to hide her trembling hand against her side.

Hashirama stood, holding his hand out to her. She grasped it. The cold eyes that stared at her shaking wrist told her nothing. He stayed that way for a long time. His thumb slowly stroked over the back of her hand. And then he pulled it up to kiss her knuckles.

“My child, you never disappoint me,” he sighed. Gooseflesh rose all over her arms and shoulders. He released her. And the message was clear that it was time for her to go.

Sakura still didn’t know the details of what happened in that room after she left. She knew better than to ask. All that mattered was that Kabuto emerged alive. The Red Arrow boys never made any attempts to go near the Mid-Levels again. And Kabuto still walked with a limp years later.

When Zabuza pulled up to the locked gate, two no-names stopped them. They didn’t even recognize the infamous Demon Eyes Zabuza. Sakura could hear him losing his temper so she opened up her window. Stuck her face out.

“Move,” she ordered.

And the two men froze. Finally realizing who they were dealing with. They scrambled backwards, shouting at one another and struggling to open the lock. When the car finally pulled into the lot behind the auto shop, Kabuto was limping out of the small, dirty building. He didn’t even give her the chance to get out. He opened the back door, one hand on top of the car. He stared in at her, black eyes narrowed.

“What the fuck do you want?” he demanded. He almost flinched when the barrel of her gun met his nose.

“Get in the car. Alone,” Sakura ordered, her voice soft. Mouth softer.

Kabuto’s eyes darted around. Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, he sat down beside her. He shut the door, leaning against it, ready to bolt at any second. Zabuza locked it. The sound made Kabuto flinch.

Truly the instincts of a little rat.

“Tokyo is mine, Kabuto. Why are you trying to make deals with the Yamanaka-kai?” Sakura asked. She didn’t bother with greetings or beating around the bush. She didn’t want to extend this chat in any way.

“I’m not,” replied Kabuto.

She grabbed a cigarette out of the pack she had wedged into the door. She placed it between her lips. She patted her pockets and then looked around. Kabuto’s eyes darted from her to the door again. And then he sighed. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his lighter and offered her the flame. She leaned towards him, waiting until the tip of the cigarette began to sizzle. As soon as it caught, he stuffed the lighter back into his pocket.

Sakura leaned against the opposite door. Watching his every nervous twitch.

“You swear?” she asked. He didn’t answer.

“Because if I find out that you were the one who shot at me, I’m going to destroy you. I’ll wipe your very existence from this earth. It’ll be like you were never born,” Sakura warned, smiling. She exhaled into his frozen face. But then she looked him over. At the fading purple on his cheek. At the fraying hem of his sleeve and scuffed sneakers.

“Who hit you?” she asked. When he didn’t respond, she reached over to poke his bruise. He slapped her hand away.

“Diu lei- don’t fucking touch me,” Kabuto snapped.

Sakura took a long drag on her cigarette, watching him through the haze. Her eyelashes drooping across her vision.

“You know… if you’re in some kind of trouble, you should go talk to the Dragon Head,” she suggested. Kabuto glared even harder at her.

“Fuck you. We both know that he’s on your side,” Kabuto snarled in return. Sakura shrugged.

“That’s why you’re a moron. You trusted the wrong people. Orochimaru and Kakashi are both dead,” she pointed out. Then she glanced down at her nails. The tip of her right pointer finger had a little chip.

“And in the end, Mad Dog trusted me and not you,” Sakura added, rubbing salt in the wound. Kabuto’s upper lip twitched.

“You’re not better than me,” grumbled Kabuto. Sakura had to smile at that. She met his gaze.

“No. I’m not. I’m just luckier… and a lot smarter.”

When Kabuto stepped out of the car a couple minutes later, his goons immediately swarmed the vehicle. She could see them carrying knives and metal bats. Some even had guns, which surprised her. Guns weren’t so easy to come by in Hong Kong.

But Kabuto jerked his head to the side, striding back into the auto shop. They hesitated and grumbled, but they shuffled after him, still eyeing the gleaming black car.

Sakura opened up the back window.

“Fai tsai,” she called out. Kabuto stopped. Nobody even remembered who had started calling him useless. But it had stuck. Even his files at the HKPD referred to him as Fai Tsai. She could see his shoulders rising at the old nickname. Still, he turned on his heel, teeth clenching together. She lobbed a thick roll of money at him. It was all held together by a rubber band. Kabuto held it in his palms like it might explode at any second. And then he slowly lifted his chin to glare at her.

“The fuck do you want?” he demanded.

“Diu lan lei. Is that how you say thanks? Buy yourself some decent clothes. It’s embarrassing being seen with you,” scoffed Sakura, waving a hand at him.

“I don’t need your charity, Jing-Mei,” scoffed Kabuto. But Sakura began closing the window.

“Yes you do,” she replied before the window shut completely. She tapped on the partition and Zabuza began turning the car around. Kabuto didn’t try to stop them as they drove out of the lot and back onto the street.

“That was way too nice of you, boss. Those Red Arrow assholes don’t deserve a cent of your money,” grumbled Zabuza. She met his gaze in the mirror. And then his eyes darted back to the road.

“Was it?” answered Sakura, a smile spreading her lips.

The following night, she took the flight into Narita International Airport. She drank two glasses of red wine on the plane and woke with a crick in her neck. Zabuza didn’t sleep a wink, his arms crossed over his chest.

As Sakura settled into the back of the car, she touched her fingertips to her forehead. Her face scrunched up. She let out a sigh.

“What’s wrong, Boss?” asked Zabuza, adjusting his mirror to look at her. Sakura leaned her head back against the seat.

“Do you need a drink?” he suggested. Sakura reached into the seat pocket behind the passenger seat and found a fresh box of cigarettes. Tenten truly could be a blessing. She thought of everything. Peeling the plastic off, Sakura took one out. Rubbed her fingers against the smooth paper.

“Are there any skulls for me to crack in Tokyo?” she queried. She lit the cigarette, watching the flames eat at the paper. Turning it black at the edges.

“Not at the moment, Boss,” replied Zabuza.

Sakura stuck the lighter back into her pocket. She took a very long drag from her cigarette.

“A drink, then,” she ordered.

Itachi found her on a rooftop bar an hour later. The bottom half of her skirt was sheer. Sakura crossed one leg over the other, the gold rings on her fingers glimmering softly in the darkness. Her dress displayed the smooth expanse of her back. The old stab wound on the right side was hidden under a tattoo of a black koi.

He rested his hand on her shoulder. Just to see her reaction.

Something hard pressed against his forearm in response. The wine in her glass didn’t even slosh.

“It’s me,” Itachi said.

Clicking her tongue, Sakura put her gun away. She twisted her head to look over her shoulder at him. He smiled, eyes softening into half-moons. He settled in the seat to her right. Whatever words had gathered on her tongue dissolved.

She touched the scab on his left cheekbone.

“Did someone take a swing at you, Kumicho?” asked Sakura.

Closing his eyes, he leaned into her touch. She pulled her hand back. And he opened his eyes again. Sakura avoided his gaze by opening up her clutch to pull out a fresh cigarette. She dug around, pushing her phone and lipstick aside. But no cigarettes. Grumbling under her breath, she lifted her head to find Itachi offering her one of his own.

“They’re not menthols,” Itachi warned her. She accepted it, lifting it to her lips. And he snapped his cigarette case shut. Sakura watched him light his cigarette. Her eyes skimmed over his narrow face and long eyelashes. The shape of his upper lip as it closed around the cigarette. He looked up at her. Eyes flickering from his cigarette to her.

Sakura steadied her cigarette between her fingers, leaning towards him. When smoke began to seep from the tip of her cigarette, she pulled back.

“So,” she said considering the grey wisps coming from between her fingers. And then her eyes met his. “Business or pleasure, daai lou?”

Itachi smiled again.

“It’s always a pleasure to do business with you. But there are some things I wanted to ask you,” Itachi replied, almost sounding regretful. Sakura pursed her lips around her cigarette, nodding for him to continue.

“Are you still using the Inuzuka-kai to move your product?” he questioned. Sakura dipped her head again.

“And just them?”

At this, Sakura narrowed her eyes.

“Well, it would have been nice to use the Sarutobi’s, but they declined. It seems like they want to move away from that,” Sakura replied. She scoffed, putting her elbow up on the bar. “As if people will ever stop needing god’s medicine.” She lifted her cigarette to her lips, paused. She glanced at Itachi.

“But you’ve been thinking, I see. What’s really on your mind, daai lou?” she pressed.

Itachi stared down at the bar. One hand on his chin, the other resting on his knee. As he thought, Sakura waved to the bartender. She pointed to her glass and then raised two fingers. When she turned back to Itachi, he was looking at her now.

“You said to stop focusing on the Inuzuka-kai and to look at the Yamanaka-kai instead,” Itachi recalled. Sakura nodded before taking a sip of her wine.

“What did you find?” she inquired. She could see it in the furrow of his brow. The way he kept shaking his head like he couldn’t even believe his own thoughts.

“Too much money. It doesn’t match their numbers at all,” Itachi said, almost like a question. Sakura shrugged at that. The bartender dropped off their drinks, along with an ashtray. He accepted the huge bill that Sakura slipped him and disappeared without question. Sakura slid a glass over to Itachi.

“Where’s that too much money going, Kumicho?” Sakura prompted.

“I don’t know yet. But we ran into some 24k snooping around in Chuo and that’s how this happened,” said Itachi, gesturing to his cheek. Sakura considered this, arms folding over her chest. As she thought, Itachi took a hearty swig of wine. Hummed in approval. Drained his glass. Sakura pushed the second one over to him without question.

“My boys know to play nice with your boys. I don’t think it was me,” Sakura finally replied.

“They didn’t look like yours anyway. I couldn’t understand them, but I did hear them say daai lou and Tobirama,” Itachi told her. Sakura’s eyes narrowed. Running her tongue along her teeth, she turned over this new information in her mind. Crossing her right leg over the left, she rested her right elbow on her thigh. Leaning in closer to him, she touched her fingers to his chest.

“I don’t like being lied to. You know that, right?” she inquired.

“As much as you hate the smell of beer,” Itachi replied. She graced him with a smile.

“You do know me,” Sakura laughed, sitting back up. She let her fingers slide off him. She tapped the ash off the tip of her cigarette. Raised it back up to her lips.

“What’re you planning next?” she then questioned before she inhaled. Itachi spun the wine glass between his thumb and pointer finger. He had barely touched his cigarette. It rested in his left hand, smoldering lonely.

“I guess it’s time for me to pay a visit to Yamanaka Inoichi. He was always loyal under my father; I never thought to suspect him of anything,” Itachi mused, almost to himself. Sakura let out a noisy sigh, drawing his gaze again.

“Didn’t you once tell me that you’re not your father?” she pointed out to him. His eyebrows drew together at that. He pushed the wine glass away from him. He turned on the stool to fully face her. She could feel his gaze spilling over her, and then focusing back on her face.

“You’re all dressed up. Busy night ahead of you?” he suddenly queried. Sakura rolled her eyes.

“If I wanted to have some fun, I’d be in Shibuya, not here in Roppongi Hills paying 2500 yen for a glass of wine,” Sakura retorted. And then she batted her eyelashes at him. “Why? Do I look strange?” she baited him.

“No. You look nice,” Itachi answered. The modesty of his response wasn’t quite what she had been fishing for. But it still warmed her. His simplicity.

“Another word of advice for you. Because sometimes I think you yakuza seem to forget. But I’m not one of you,” Sakura said. She tapped her pointer finger against the bar. The ruby on her pointer finger glittered.

“Is that a threat?” asked Itachi, his voice lowering.

Sakura sighed, tilting her head this way and that. She opened her eyes to look at Itachi.

“You stupid man. It means that I’m not affiliated with any of you. So you can use me,” she spelled out for him. His eyes narrowed.

“Why would you do that?” demanded Itachi, leaning closer to her. Sakura reached out to touch his scab again. This time, he didn’t lean into her. Her smile widened.

“You have a terrible memory today, Kumicho. I already told you. It’s because I think you’re cute,” she said. She blew her smoke out into his face. And when he closed his eyes against it, she leaned in to kiss his cheek. She stubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray.

“You know where I’ll be, daai lou,” Sakura said, getting out of her seat.

Itachi caught her arm. Held her there. His eyes exhausted and dark, glittering.

“Sakura,” he uttered. And the way he said her name sounded special. Rolling off his teeth and tongue like a sacred mantra. She smiled down at him, her hand resting on his shoulder.

“I’ll be in touch, Itachi,” she replied. And then she slipped through his fingers.

#eastern suns #tobisaku #itasaku #triad!sakura x yakuza!itachi #writing #triad!au

106 notes · View notes

silverfootstepswrites · 7 years

Text

title Tell Me summary Let’s go back pairing Itasaku

“Don’t come in tomorrow,” was what she had told the staff at the hostess club earlier that night. A cheer had risen, of course. Christmas in Japan was a day for couples. Romantic walks and kisses on the bridge lit up by string lights.

Sakura grimaced at the mere thought.

She watched the bills blur through the money counter. Licking her thumb, she flipped through a stack of uncounted bills. Glancing back, she peeled off several bills and pushed them into Sai’s hand.

“Go buy something for us to eat,” she ordered, typing up fresh numbers into the spreadsheet.

“Got it, Boss,” he replied, grabbing his coat.

When the door opened, she could suddenly hear all the chatter from the club downstairs. Someone let out a cheer, laughter chasing after it. And then the door swung shut and it quieted again. Smoke pouring from her mouth, Sakura packaged the counted bills into a neat little envelope.

“Alright, Charlie. Your numbers line up,” she declared, straightening her back.

“Don’t know why they wouldn’t,” Chojuro replied. He slid off the back of the sofa. He fumbled to catch the wad of bills that she tossed over her shoulder at him.

“Thank you, Aunt Cheng,” he gasped. Sakura didn’t respond, busy reloading the counting machine. She was like a smokestack, exhaling plumes into the air as she worked. She pressed her palms to the desk, cigarette held between her lips.

“Need anything else from me, Boss?” asked Chojuro.

“Have you found out anything about Ghost?” she questioned in return, her gaze fixed on the desk.

“No, Boss. Still looking- I swear,” he replied.

“Then no.”

“Alright. Good night, Boss,” Chojuro greeted her. Pulling on his hat, he made his way out of the room. The sounds of the club floated up for another brief moment. Faded again.

Sakura clenched her hands until her knuckles turned white. The flap of the bills running through the machine blurring out all other sounds. She closed her eyes, teeth biting into the cigarette just a bit. Until the bitter taste touched the tip of her tongue. She let out a deep breath, emptying her lungs until it almost hurt her chest.

Sai returned a little while later with takeout from the nearby izakaya. He held up a bouquet of red roses.

“Were you expecting a delivery, Mama?” he asked, letting the door shut behind him. She looked over her shoulder at him. She held out her hand. The clear plastic outside the flowers crinkled when she took it. Turning the flowers over, she couldn’t find a card.

“Someone had it delivered to the bar for you. Ayu said she didn’t bring it up because she didn’t want to disturb you,” Sai explained. He pointed his thumb toward the door. There was a little sign hung up outside that read “Calculating the bills. Please don’t disturb.” It only went up once a month, so the girls knew not to barge in just then.

“Huh.... strange,” she simply said. She ran her fingers over the soft petals before she set the bouquet down. She picked up the freshly-counted stack of bills to stuff them into a fresh envelope. Sai set down the takeout. He pulled out a pair of chopsticks, snapping them apart.

“They ran out of chicken so I got you kushikatsu instead. Sorry, Auntie,” he said, holding out the chopsticks. Sakura sealed the envelope and placed it on the pile before she accepted the chopsticks.

“That’s fine,” she answered. And then took the box he handed over. Sai didn’t release the box right away. He studied her expression.

“Is everything alright, Aunt Cheng?” questioned Sai. Ever the vigilant and loyal foot soldier. She offered him a smile.

“Of course. Come on. Let’s eat before the food gets cold,” she insisted. Sai didn’t ask anything else as he snapped apart another set of chopsticks. They leaned against the back of the sofa, digging into the still-warm takeout. Outside, snow fell in wispy flakes on top of the city.

At the end of the night, Sakura took the roses home with her. She set them beside her on the back seat of the car. Eyeing them, she considered the possibilities. She picked them up, examining each stem for a wire or a bug. Finding nothing, she tossed them back on the seat.

She said good night to Chouji when he dropped her off in front of her apartment.

“Have a nice Christmas, Aunt Cheng,” he called out the passenger side window. She raised a hand as she stepped into the lobby. Flowers in her arms. She stared down at the spiraling petals of the flowers for a long time as she rode the elevator up to her apartment. And when she stepped inside, she kicked her shoes off and shoved them off to the side. She placed the bouquet on her kitchen island with a little more care as she continued to consider them.

Her phone rang from inside the pocket of her fur coat. She held it up to her ear.

“Yeah.”

“I need to stay in Yokohama for a few days,” Tobirama stated.

“Oh?”

“You remember York Ng?” he asked.

Sakura leaned against the counter. She prodded at the roses with her pointer finger.

“Sure. His stuff is always pretty pure. His English is shit though,” she recalled. Tobirama clicked his tongue.

“I got the feeling he’s been double-dipping into his own stash because he’s been falling behind on his payments lately.”

Sakura’s eyebrows rose. “York? Huh. Thought he was smarter than that.”

“I know. Anyway, fucker’s disappeared. Heard rumors he might be hiding out in Yokohama. Didn’t want you shooting at me if you saw me there,” he concluded. Sakura laughed.

“Pok gaai, when have I ever shot at you?” she challenged.

“Just in case,” he insisted. Still smiling, she looked down at the flowers one last time.

“Did you happen to send me flowers?” she queried.

“Hah? You dipping into York’s supply too?” retorted Tobirama.

“Fine. Come next week. And if you end up finding Ng, try not to kill him there. It’ll be a pain if I have to pay off the cops there. They’re not as easy to deal with as the cops up here in Tokyo,” she warned.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He hung up. Sakura shoved the flowers off the counter, into the trash can. They fell with a thud against the metal bottom.

The following night, there was a bouquet of purple irises. It sat on the doorstep of the club- the petals frozen solid. Sakura brushed snow off them with the toe of her shoe. Delivery on a holiday couldn’t have been cheap. The same as the roses from the night before, there was no card. No frills. Just flowers in clear plastic, tied together with a thick ribbon.

Hands in her pockets, Sakura glanced around. Of course, the streets were mostly empty. There were a few people staggering around. This was Ginza, after all. Apparently some of the other clubs in the area had had the same idea as her- closing on the holiday to give the hostesses a break. But there were still a few bars and places open, their neon signs blinking against the black sky.

Sakura scooped up the flowers before she unlocked the door to the club. The interior was dark and smelled a little sterile. The boys must have cleaned up thoroughly the night before. She flicked on a few lights in the bar as she made her way through.

As she walked up the steps to her office, a thought occurred to her. Setting the bouquet down on the table, she untied the ribbon. And underneath was a little rectangular card.

For Cheng Jing-Mei. From Uchiha Itachi.

Sakura squinted down at the card. She did a thorough check of the flowers again. No wire. No bug. Nothing suspicious. She dropped them into the dumpster on her way out later that night. Just to be safe.

The next night, the club was open. Ayu walked up the stairs with a bouquet of bright pink carnations held in her arms. Her eyebrows waggling.

“Ooh, Mama, I knew it! You do have a boyfriend!” she squealed, setting the bouquet on the desk. Sakura said nothing. She undid the ribbon to find the same card with the same words. Just her name and his.

“Did you get a look at the delivery boy?” asked Sakura. Ayu thought back, finger on her lip.

“Hmm...just a regular guy, Mama,” she simply said.

The following night was lilies in soft purples and pinks.

And then the fourth night the oyabun himself showed up with gerbera daisies. The sight of the pink flowers blooming in his arms almost made Tenten drop a very expensive bottle of vodka. Sakura stared at him, her glass of champagne almost to her lips. He took off his hat, holding it to his chest.

“My apologies. Have I come at a bad time, Mama?” he asked.

Sakura’s eyes darted around. She could feel all the stares. The curiosity hanging in the air like a stench. Sakura lifted her hand.

“My table.”

“Yes, Mama!”

A few minutes later, they sat at her table in the back, hidden behind the white curtain. Away from the prying eyes and wandering ears. Itachi presented the flowers to her. She took them, glaring first at the flowers and then at him.

“What’re you getting at, Kumicho?” she demanded, her voice low so that it wouldn’t carry.

“Not a daisy person?” he asked, looking down at the bouquet.

Sighing, she held her hands out. Looking like a smug schoolboy, he handed the flowers over. They were so bright- the colors almost garish. She glared down at them, touching her finger to one of the petals. When she looked up, she almost flinched. Itachi was watching her, fist under his chin. He smiled when he met her gaze.

“I don’t really have much for you yet, if that’s what you’re here for. Unless you want me to pay Tommy’s hospital bill?” she said, slowly. Itachi raised his eyebrows. He crossed his arms across his chest. She noticed that his suit wasn’t black this time. It was more of a dark grey- matching blue pocket square and necktie.

“No. None of that. Just here to see you. Since you were kind enough to visit me at the hospital, Mama,” he replied. And then he picked up a menu off the table. Scanning through the list, he pointed with his left hand.

“How do you feel about Syrah, Mama?” he then asked.

“...I’m not opposed to it,” she replied, still eyeing him. And occasionally the flowers that she had left sitting between them on the table.

But the kumicho did leave after just a drink. No other questions. Just pleasant conversation. And as he stood, she did too.

“How’s the arm?” she asked as they walked to the door.

“Healing. Although I’m learning how to use chopsticks with my left hand in the meantime,” he replied.

“Hm.”

She helped him pull on his coat, fixing the lapel with her palm. Their eyes met. Her hand rested on his chest.

“Take care, Kumicho. Don’t need you getting shot again,” she quietly said.

“Of course not. I wouldn’t want to make you worry,” he answered.

Sakura stood in the foyer as he left. Arms crossed, eyes narrowed. Had there really been no other purpose to his visit? She had never thought Uchiha Itachi a man to waste her time. Tenten leaned across the bar to hand her a glass of wine.

“What do you think he wanted, Mama?” she asked. Sakura glared at nothing in particular.

“I don’t know. And I don’t like it,” answered Sakura.

The flowers continued to come every day. A different variety each time. Or if she’d gotten those before, they were at least in a different color. It began to feel a little wasteful to simply dump them in the trash- especially since they were good quality. She had one of the boys run out to get a vase and left them on the edge of the bar.

Itachi came back the following week. An armful of calla lilies cradled in his left arm. He saw the English roses from two days ago sitting on the bar. Smiled at them.

“Are you ever going to get bored of this game, Kumicho?” she asked, still accepting the flowers. Itachi looked surprised as he shed his coat.

“It’s not a game, Mama,” he answered, still smiling.

“Then what is this?” demanded Sakura in return. She almost pulled away when he took her hand.

“Do you really not remember how we met?”

To be fair, they had known about each other for several months before meeting each other.

“Gumi?” Sai repeated the word, his tongue rolling awkwardly.

“Gu-mi,” Sakura said one more time, enunciating each syllable. Crisp and precise. Sai mouthed the sounds, leaning back in the folding chair.

“It’s a word for ‘group’. But you really only use it for yakuza groups. So don’t go around calling groups of little old ladies gumi,” Tenten warned, spreading out several headshots on the floor in front of them.

The office on the second floor was still in the middle of renovations. It smelled like sawdust and glue. The walls had been sanded but not painted yet. Pencil marks indicated where to install sconces. There was still a big hole in the ceiling with wires poking out.

“Uchiha Fugaku. Goes by ‘The Hammer’. The Uchiha-gumi’s fourth head. Out of the 23 wards of Tokyo, the Uchiha’s control six. That includes this one,” Tenten explained, opening a folding chair and sitting in it. Together, they formed a horseshoe around the photos.

“The Inuzuka-kai control four just to the north of here. They don’t have as many men, but they buy arms from the Russians, so that’s going to be a pain in the ass,” said Sakura, lighting up a cigarette. She cupped her hands around it until the paper sizzled. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled away from the two of them. She gestured toward the photo of the young man with the goatee. Tenten tilted her head.

“He’s kind of cute,” she remarked. Sai let out a noise of disgust.

But then Sakura looked at the photo closer too. She took another drag on her and blew out. Cigarette between her teeth.

“I don’t know. I’d fuck him,” Sakura agreed.

She exchanged smirks with Tenten.

“Ugh. Be serious, please. Who’s this guy?” Sai quickly redirected the conversation, pointing to the third photo. This man was the youngest out of the three. He almost looked scholarly with his neat black hair tied back.

“Uchiha Itachi. Eldest son of the Hammer. He’s one of the executives of the Uchiha-gumi,” Tenten reported.

Sakura gazed down at the photo, thinking. He had a handsome face too, but it was nothing notable. He could just as easily be replaced by someone else in a suit. She tapped her cigarette against the back of the chair. Letting the ash fall on top of his face.

“He’s not so important right now. We bought this building under a shell corporation so the Uchiha-gumi won’t figure it out right away. If they come knocking, we’ll figure out how to handle them then,” she decided. And then she got out of her chair.

“Let’s head down toward Kawasaki. I want to shake up the local small fries to see what’s up with this area,” she added.

“Sure, Boss,” Tenten replied, following her with her eyes. Sai nodded too.

They took to the streets of Ginza, in the industrial areas bordering Kawasaki. Away from the upscale clubs and the high-end boutiques. She hefted a steel pipe in her hand, jacket hanging from her elbows. Some of the local troublemakers eyed her but didn’t calling out to her. She wasn’t an unfamiliar face in the area by now. The smarter ones knew to keep their mouths shut. Those triads from Hong Kong are a different level of crazy, they said.

Unfortunately, some people took that as a challenge and not a warning.

“Hey, onee-chan, what’s a pretty girl like you doing wandering around here? Looking for someone to play with?” a group of men called out. One of them waggled his tongue at her. Another made an even more lewd gesture with his fingers.

“Pok gaai, I’m-” Sai growled, already taking a step. Tenten grabbed his arm.

“Don’t get in the way. Boss loves this,” she warned.

They hung back, watching the swish of Sakura’s hips as she advanced toward the men. The pipe held behind her, hiding in the shadows of the night.

All of them lounged around a single streetlight. One of them leaned on a bike. Some of them might have still been teenagers. A bunch of what could barely be called men sharing a couple bottles of alcohol. The stink of cheap cigarettes and arrogance wafting off of them. It made her gag a little.

“Oh, look at that. She wants to play! I knew it!” the one who had hollered at her cackled. His friends guffawed with him, smacking each other on the shoulders.

At first they didn’t react when she raised the pipe. The crack of it hitting his skull rose like a single wisp of incense smoke into the air. The group fell silent. And then as the blood pooled, wetting the bottoms of their sneakers, emotions started to creep back into their faces.

“Y-you bitch!”

It was laughable how quickly she took them down with that pipe. The metal bashing into them. The strangled cries of pain that erupted with each blow. And once they were all down, she dropped the pipe and resorted to kicking instead. The heavy point of her boot digging into their sides. Until high keens rose from them. Begging for mercy.

When Tenten and Sai finally approached, there was blood flecked across her thighs and calves. Some of it had even sprayed across her face. Tenten stooped to pick up the pipe. She handed it off to Sai, one end glistening wetly in the dark. And then she looked crouched beside Sakura. She picked out one of the least-bloodied boys and grabbed him by the collar of his jacket to make him sit up. She shook him.

“If you pretend to be unconscious, I’m going to drown you in that river,” she threatened. And he cracked one eye open. The other already swelling and turning purple. Tenten shifted him so that he was facing more towards Sakura.

Sakura stretched her arms high over her head, sighing.

“Ah, that was refreshing,” she declared, smiling like she had just come back from a yoga class. Then she crouched in front of the boy, still grinning.

“Okay. I’m going to ask you some questions. And if you lie to me, I really will let her drown you,” Sakura said. Through his swollen eye, he spotted the burgundy tattoo of a phoenix on her left arm. And then the cherry blossoms running up her right bicep.

“You’re yakuza! I’m sorry! I didn’t know!” he began to hyperventilate. Sakura leaned in closer, eyes narrowing into slits.

“Not quite. You’d be luckier if I was, sik si gau. Now let me ask my questions before you really piss me off,” she replied, grabbing his chin.

Through his shaking and crying, he continued swearing that they didn’t know anything. He did point her towards someone who might know something.

“And if the police ask?” she questioned one more time.

“I didn’t see a face! I don’t remember anything!” he insisted, trembling and snot running down his upper lip.

Sakura nodded to Tenten, who tossed the boy back on top of his friends.

“We should go, boss,” Tenten reminded her. Nodding, Sakura patted her pockets until she found a carton of cigarettes. She pulled a fresh one out, rubbing her fingers over the smooth paper. As she placed it in her mouth, she saw that the boy was still watching her. She reached into the box for another one and then placed that in his mouth.

“Listen, kid,” Sakura said. She pulled out her lighter. Cupping her hand around the cigarette, she let the flame burn the tip. Waiting until it glowed red. She sucked down a deep breath, the taste of ash filling her mouth.

“Little boys shouldn’t be hanging around in places like this. Don’t you have a mom or dad to worry about you?” she asked. And then, leaning forward, she touched the end of her cigarette to his until it began to smolder. He didn’t move.

“I have no interest in killing kids. I don’t want to see you around here again,” she warned. Only then did he seem to remember how to use his muscles. He gave a little nod.

“Good. Glad we could chat,” concluded Sakura. She got to her feet, pretending not to see the dark puddle forming around him as he pissed himself. When she turned, Sai was still holding onto the pipe. She took it from him, swinging it once to test it.

“Sai, the car. We’re heading north. Apparently there should be a pachinko parlor near the Shinagawa Aquarium,” Sakura ordered. As they passed under streetlights, orange light flooded and faded from the inside of the car. Sai glanced up at Sakura through the rearview mirror. She wiped blood off her face with a lacy white handkerchief. And then she mopped it off the side of her throat.

“Think that kid’ll keep his mouth shut? There aren’t too many people with pink hair running around at night, Aunt Cheng,” Tenten queried. Sakura clicked her tongue against the back of her teeth.

“We’ll worry about that later. Tonight’s for making messes. The clean-up comes after,” Sakura assured her.

When they arrived at the pachinko parlor, Sakura led, dragging the steel pipe against the dirty laminate as she strode in. Some people glanced up at her, but most were engrossed in their gambling. The entire room was hazy and stank of old beer. As Sakura made her way to the back, a huge man with diamonds in both ears stood to stop her. His blue hair was spiked up high- adding unnecessary height to his already huge frame.

“Can’t go in there,” he grunted. And then looked at her pipe. “Especially not with that.”

Sakura snapped her fingers. Tenten produced a thick wad of bills tied with a rubber band.

“Either you take this and we can be friends. Or you can refuse and...” Sakura trailed off. But she ground the edge of her pipe against the floor. It scraped against the laminate, leaving a streak of dark red.

The man looked her over. Stared her in the eyes. Sighing, he held his hand out for the money.

“The guys in there are paying protection money to a big guy in the area. I hope you know what you’re doing, lady,” he warned, rifling through the bills. His eyes grew huge. He flipped through one more time, counting one more time.

“Oh....I know,” replied Sakura, beaming. Patting him on the shoulder once, she walked into the back room. It was even smokier- if that was remotely possible. Four men sat around on the beat-up leather couches.

“Who the fuck let you in, bitch?” one of them growled. The three other men whipped their heads around. One of them reached inside his cheap suit jacket to pull out a knife. Another moved around to the desk in the back of the room, rifling through the drawers.

Sakura lifted the pipe, letting it rest against her shoulder.

“I’m here to send a message. Can you be good and send it yourselves?” she asked.

“Fuck you,” the yakuza at the desk growled. He finally found a gun hidden in one of the drawers. He fumbled with the safety, nearly dropping the weapon. Before he could really figure the firearm out, Sakura reached back. Tucked into her waistband was a shining gold Desert Eagle. Her name was engraved into the side in sweeping characters.

In one sweeping motion, she pulled her gun out and fired one bullet straight into the armed man’s forehead. His brains splattered against the window behind him. He collapsed against the desk, blood oozing out onto the tabletop. One of the other yakuza immediately turned his head to vomit.

“Anyone else want to try me?” she asked, smile gone.

It didn’t take long for the Uchiha-gumi to notice them after that. In the meantime, Sakura and her underlings kept busy. They set up their headquarters in the back of a little strip club in the heart of Ginza. Of course, by name it was simply an adult theater. It was lit up with hot pink lights and the pounding music assaulted people as soon as they walked in. But the back room was quiet in comparison. After a little threatening, the owner had agreed to let them conduct their business from there.

The deeper they dug, the more businesses and lands they found were really owned by the yakuza. It was almost impressive, in a way. Sakura and her people smashed up a few stores under the Uchiha’s protection, extorted a fair amount of cash out of some of the more prosperous businesses. It was all standard procedure, in a way. Poking the beast until it woke.

The only truly interesting encounters were when they ventured too far west into Shibuya. The Inuzuka-kai had heard rumors of the new troublemaker in the city. They were prepared and well-armed.

Between the three of them, they had pulled through. But it wasn’t without taking a fair number of hits. Sakura and Tenten laughed as they disinfected each other’s wounds. Sai was in too much pain to laugh, nursing the nasty bruise on his side with bags of ice bought from the nearby convenience store.

“This really takes me back,” remarked Sakura. Tenten nodded.

“Remember, Boss? When Kabuto tried to take over your minibus route?” she laughed. Sakura chuckled too, wincing as it strained her split lip.

“I ran that bus into his building. Ended up exposing an illegal cockfighting ring. The HKPD had a field day with that,” recalled Sakura. She flinched when Tenten dabbed particularly hard at a cut on her temple. Sai lifted his head.

“I remember hearing about that. Didn’t you burst a fire hydrant?” he asked.

Sakura and Tenten laughed again, immediately hissing in pain at their various injuries.

Still, they continued to clash with the Inuzuka-kai. Partly because they had been disrespected and couldn’t afford to lose face- but mostly for the hell of it. Because why not? Bashing their weapons into the faces of unnamed goons. Listening to the chatter as the Inuzuka-kai grew angrier and angrier. All the while, waiting for the Uchiha-gumi to take the bait.

When the Uchiha-gumi finally managed to find them, the oyabun didn’t send some disposable underling. His son arrived, Tokyo University-educated and wearing a name brand suit. The two boys guarding the door already knew to let him in when he arrived.

Sakura sat, bathed in the hot pink light that filled the entire strip joint. With the faint sounds of the techno music blasting outside, Uchiha Itachi entered the room. She held her gold gun in one hand, the other holding an ice pack to her knee. Her forearm and white tank top were flecked with blood. The jacket she had worn on top was filthy and torn beyond use. It sat abandoned on an empty chair.

Sakura lifted her head at his entrance. Three men followed him in, dressed in similar black suits.

“Shit, look at these lun yeung. Was it twin day at the office today?” Tenten jeered in Cantonese. Sai looked away to avoid smiling.

“Haruno Sakura?” Itachi asked. When she didn’t say anything, he reached into his jacket. She raised her gun. He continued reaching. And then pulled out a business card, which presented with two hands. Sakura eyed him before she took it out of his fingers. She held it up, squinting.

“Uchiha Itachi,” she read the kanji. He dipped his head. She lowered her gun, resting it on her thigh.

“That’s all you brought to fight me? I was hoping your old man was smarter than that,” she commented, adjusting her ice pack. Then she stared into his eyes. He didn’t flinch away from her stare, which was impressive enough in itself. And she could feel him looking her over. At the bruises and cuts dotting her arms and face.

“Well I heard rumors that you were so tough. But it looks like you took a beating instead. Then we both assumed wrong,” he retorted.

“Pok gaai,” Tenten growled. Sakura held a hand up before her subordinate could jump. Still holding Itachi’s gaze.

“I’ll tell you this. Out of those ten men, probably four had to go to the hospital. Context is key here,” Sakura responded, finally cracking a smile. Itachi didn’t say anything in return. She settled back in the chair, listening to the cheap metal creak beneath her.

“Fine. What’s the big man’s message? Speak, Hachiko,” she taunted. it was remarkable how his expression didn’t shift at all.

“The kumicho is feeling generous. Clear out of this territory. Whatever you own stays here and we take it. In exchange, you can run back down to Yokohama where you started and we won’t retaliate,” Itachi laid out for her.

Sakura raised her gun. Aimed. Released a bullet just above his head. They heard faint shrieks from outside. One of the guards standing outside slammed the door open to see if everything was okay. At the same time, Itachi’s men drew their own weapons, aiming them directly at Sakura. And she calmly blew the smoke from the barrel of her gun.

“Close the door, idiot,” she drawled. The guard’s eyes darted around. When Tenten nodded, he reluctantly returned to his post. When the door shut it dampened the sounds of the throbbing music outside again.

All the while, Sakura and Itachi didn’t tear their eyes from one another.

“So that’s a ‘no’,” Itachi guessed.

“What a smart boy,” she sneered in return.

“What part of ‘generous’ are you not understanding? This is Uchiha territory. You can’t be so foolish as to not realize that,” Itachi wondered out loud. And Sakura matched his condescending tone perfectly.

“What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand? If the big guy wants to make a deal, he can come see me himself,” replied Sakura. And then she pointed her gun at him.

“Now get the fuck out,” she added. Teeth baring in a grin.

And just because the whole encounter annoyed her, she sent Sai and Tenten out into the night to send a message. Just enough bloodshed to make the cops mad in the morning. While they worked, she went out on her own to get into her own mischief. And the night culminated in her throwing one of the Uchiha-gumi’s members off a bridge, into the Sumida River with a dagger in his back. Just standard Hong Kong procedure.

Despite all these clear messages, the fourth head of the Uchiha-gumi was apparently hard of hearing. He sent his son a second time, this time with a different proposition, several more men, and what looked like kevlar under his jacket judging from the bulkiness.

“We’ll temporarily join hands with you to help you take over Shibuya. It’s profitable. Since it looks like you’re having trouble dealing with the Inuzuka-kai, you should accept our aid,” Itachi declared.

She unleashed four bullets. Four men fell. Two on his left. Two on his right.

“Fuck you. I know that the Uchiha-gumi hates the Inuzuka-kai. I won’t be used as a pawn in your territorial pissing contest,” she retorted, keeping the gun focused on him now. But then she paused.

“Also, I think you’re mistaken about something, Itachi-san. I’m not having trouble with the Inuzuka-kai. I’m having so much fun with them,” she corrected him. Because if she wanted, she could bring over some real firepower from Hong Kong. And these little disputes with the Inuzuka-kai would be over in a month or two. But it was interesting to see how they reacted. The hot temper of their young leader was never completely predictable. It was like a very volatile game of chess.

Something shifted in Itachi’s gaze.

“Then you’re not trying to take over our territory. What’re you really aiming for?” he questioned. Sakura’s eyebrows rose. She considered him as she lowered her gun.

“Hm... your father couldn’t figure that out but you could. Maybe you’re not as boring as I thought,” she remarked. She crossed her arms over her chest.

“I want autonomy. It’s too much of a hassle for me to bring in the big guns and stage a hostile takeover. I don’t feel like replacing any of the yakuza here. You can keep all your land and whatever else you have set up here. But in exchange, I’ll buy up a couple places. Have my own little projects. Just let me have my fun,” Sakura listed. She watched Itachi process. Watched him frown as he wondered and considered. And then he shook his head.

“That won’t work,” he decided.

“The triads have connections that you yakuza could never dream of making. We can make shipments undetected since the police won’t be looking for us. And I guarantee that you want me over some of the other triads who might consider moving in here. You stand to gain a lot if I’m around,” she countered. To her surprise, Itachi nodded at all these things.

“I see your point, but my father will never approve,” Itachi explained. And then Sakura scoffed.

“Why does that matter? Then make him change his mind.”

Itachi frowned. “He’s quite stubborn. It’s not that simple.”

“Then you should be in charge. And your word will be law. That’s what I did,” Sakura replied.

“Why does that matter, suddenly? Are you holding a grudge for all those times I shot at you?” Sakura asked, keeping her voice low to avoid being overheard. Still she glanced around to make sure that no one was eavesdropping. Only Tenten drying a glass behind the bar was close enough to hear.

“Technically, you really only shot at me once,” Itachi mused, suddenly looking thoughtful.

“What’s your point?” she sighed, finding her patience running thin.

“It’s been two years since my father died. Now I’m the one in charge,” declared Itachi. A little needlessly, considering that these were two facts that she was well aware of even without him saying so.

“And?” she sighed.

“So now I’m doing whatever I want. Including sending you flowers,” concluded Itachi. Sakura didn’t know what to call the look in his eyes. It wasn’t exactly threatening; nor was it pleasant. Whatever it was, she let him buy another bottle of Dom Perignon. After all, as long as he bought her time, she didn’t have much to complain about.

#eastern suns #itasaku #writing #triad!sakura x yakuza!itachi #my heart hurts #everything hurts #jesus take the wheel #take the whole damn car #i'm going on vacation for the next several days #might not get a chance to update #so here's a longer chapter to hold y'all over #triad!au

126 notes · View notes