GUYS!

I hope you all are safe and well! It's already been 6 months since I posted last, and I know this chapter is too short to make up for that, but I have been battling with my creativity this whole time.

Work has been absolutely exhausting, and the current worldwide situation has not been helping. In any case, I managed to get this down. I feel like it is below my usual standard, but I wanted to give you guys something to show my appreciation for your constant support!

I really hope you enjoy. We are getting closer to the content I wanted to write when I started this story, so I desperately hope I can beat this creative block and post again soon.

Chapter 8: Shifting Sands (2)

She really was quite beautiful.

The thought manifested itself in Itachi's mind as his eyes catalogued her features. The dusky pink lashes, small nose, and her lips…

They looked so soft. They had been so soft.

The memory of the kiss they had shared floated into the forefront of his thoughts and lingered. He would not object to repeating that experience.

The urge to kiss her right there came over him. The aisle was empty enough. He wanted to nudge her back against the shelves, cup her chin with his hand and…

Someone bumped into his back as they passed him in the aisle, interrupting his thought pattern. He looked around, caught in the lurch between his fantasy and reality, feeling suddenly guilty and self-conscious. Had his thoughts been obvious? He nodded absently to the woman that had bumped into him as she apologised and continued on down the aisle with her child in tow. They must look a sight, strolling through the supermarket in slightly rumpled evening wear.

It was moments like this that reminded him that this was no longer the contractual relationship he'd originally had in mind. It scared and excited him at the same time. After a day like today, the moments they had shared…

He wanted… something.

There was a niggling yearning deep within him.

Sakura-san chuckled and rested the packet of pasta she had been examining into the shopping cart. The action had her brushing against the side of his chest, and her scent enveloped him in a fleeting cloud of warmth. Before he could really register the sensation of her closeness, she moved away, leaving him feeling strangely bereft.

What was happening to him?

He was not used to feeling this way. It was as if he was still himself, but off-balance. Off-kilter.

Unsteady.

Trying to pull himself together, he pushed the shopping cart along, catching up to Sakura-san in a few long strides. They continued along the aisle, not needing to say much.

The silence was… comfortable.

"Red or white?" she asked when they approached the wine section of the supermarket. Itachi gave the options a cursory glance, and his disdainful expression must have shown on his face because when he looked back at her, she was covering her mouth with a slim hand in an effort to hide her laughter.

But oh, how her eyes sparkled.

She was teasing him.

He would feel a bit piqued if only she was not so beautiful while doing so.

"I have wine at home," she chuckled, impulsively looping her arm through his and pulling him towards the cashier.

She smelled delicious.

It was the type of warm, nameless scent that made him want to be enveloped and surrounded by…

What was he even thinking? His thoughts didn't suit him. Even though no one could hear them, he felt embarrassed, as if another version of himself was watching and judging him. He paid for the groceries absently, drove to Sakura's house absently, his thoughts tumbling over each other in a disjointed mess.

After letting Itachi-san inside her flat, Sakura-san looked down at her dress and then glanced up at him through her eyelashes.

"Do you mind if I change out of this dress? It has been through enough today," she said with a weak chuckle. Itachi gave his head a short nod that he knew she would interpret correctly. "Ah," she went on, "please, you can remove your jacket if you like. You know, be comfortable…"

It was a bit awkward.

After a day like today, he had come to her flat for the first time, and they were alone. She loitered for a few seconds, then pulled in a breath and briskly headed down the hall. He heard muffled sounds of her moving around in her room as he waited, looking around her abode from the spot she had left him at.

It felt intrusive to go further.

Everything was really tidy; it hardly looked lived in. Or perhaps she was just that neat…? It somehow didn't fit with his image of her, even though she was always well put together. He didn't know why, but the more he came to know her, the more he'd been convinced that her space would be very slightly, and very charmingly, dishevelled.

He removed his jacket and draped it over the arm of a chair in the living room before rolling up his sleeves and unbuttoning the first button of his shirt. She was back in what turned out to be the longest ten minutes of his life, wearing a summery-looking floral dress. She had also pulled her hair back from her face with a tie and removed her jewellery.

She looked… classily domestic.

The desire to be greeted by a similar sight, to pull her into his arms even for a few short moments when he was home from work flitted through Itachi's mind. That was a life that was not a part of the arrangement they were entering. That was a scene for a relationship that he would never be in.

As the night went on, Itachi became more and more aware of something.

He wasn't in love with her.

He wasn't, but he was in awe. That much was the truth.

He knew she was still in pain; he could see it in her eyes as she tried to think and talk about everything except what had happened earlier in the evening. And for the second time in one day, Itachi considered giving up the keys to his soul for her comfort.

If she didn't know how important his little admissions were, would it be easier?

As he watched her stir-fry meat, vegetables and seasonings to add to some homemade pasta, Itachi's lips felt numb from indecision. Something fleeting in her eyes made him sigh inwardly and give in. He'd told her about Ami and he hadn't died.

Yet.

"I've never saved a dog."

He needed her to know that if even only in pain, she was not alone.

She paused her stirring to look up at him in confusion. He watched her eyes darken with understanding even as he explained, using the bare minimum of words.

"She was referring to my ex."

Her lips parted, but no words came out. Itachi's face and chest felt suddenly hard and hot; as if his flesh was the earth that surrounded the crater of a volcano of emotional pain and resentment that was waking up from dormancy. He should not have told her, for his own sake. Saying the words made them real, and not just a concept that he had buried deep inside his being. Saying the words made his mother the venomous snake that she was and not the beautiful butterfly she pretended to be.

That he wished she was.

There was a rushing in his ears even as some twisted part of him had to give his mother props for managing to find and wield words that somehow managed to slice both him and Sakura to their cores.

Killing two foes with one blade, as it were.

"Itachi-san…" she finally said, her voice sounding as thin as gossamer.

Before he could register what was happening, she'd switched off the burner, rested down her wooden spoon and was enveloping him in her arms. He vacantly felt one of her hands sliding up his back and the other into the hair at his nape as she pushed his head into her shoulder. He clutched her to him on autopilot, his fingers digging into the flesh of her side and shoulder. He wished he could cry, but his pain was limited to roiling futilely below the hardened crust of his bitterness. It was still too far down to erupt, but it was enough to make his body shudder with anger, frustration and embarrassment.

He hadn't been able to protect Sakura-san earlier because he had been struggling to survive. He thought he had been done with Mei, after everything he had survived before and after the breakup, but hearing his mother refer to her in that way still gouged his heart.

If he, who had lived with her all his life, felt her words so sharply, then any relationship with Mei had been doomed from the start. No one could put up with that.

It was not too late to break things off with Sakura, his inheritance be damned, but it was not that simple. There would be too many people affected if he didn't receive it. The reach would be too wide. Too many lives would be hindered.

And he was strongly being reaffirmed that he needed Sakura-san much more than she would ever need him.

Just this once, he wanted to keep something.

Sunagakure

4 days later...

He hadn't slept in days.

Each night, he'd tossed and turned, a suffocating pressure in his chest and curdling anxiety in the pit of his stomach. He had to do something. Say something. Fear paralysed him; both the fear of saying something and the fear of staying silent.

Truthfully, the odds of a positive outcome were very low. He'd never once won against either of his cousins. Not in any way that counted.

But this level of inner turmoil was off-brand for Shisui. It was hard enough dealing with these thoughts. He refused to show it outwardly.

The warmth of the early morning sun graced his bare shoulders and chest as he reclined on the deck of the yacht, and he closed his eyes behind his designer shades and tried to pull himself together. He hadn't really seen or spoken to Itachi in weeks, and now that they were scheduled to meet, he was fully intending to steal Sakura.

He should feel worse about it than he did, but quite frankly, he would drown in bitterness if he didn't at least try. He sucked in a deep breath and released it in a whoosh.

"That was a sigh if I ever heard one," Sabaku no Temari mused, as she lifted her face to the sun. Shisui opened one eye and gave her a sideways glance.

"Gotta clear the city out of my lungs," he lied smoothly. "This sun is glorious," he murmured in an artfully manufactured rumble of contentment. The yacht rocked ever so slightly on the water.

He willed himself to relax.

"Fair enough. Is that why you came days before everyone else?" she asked. "Including your girlfriend…"

"What girlfriend? I'm single," Shisui chuckled. "Besides, my life is a party and let's face it, when everyone else turns up, I'm going to be partying again." Temari pushed her sunglasses up on her forehead and raised up on her elbows and turned an enquiring gaze toward him.

"You're single? Since when?" she asked.

"It's been a few years now," Shisui said blithely. Temari rolled her eyes.

"You were literally just with… what was her name… Miran? Her SNS was full of you." Shisui rolled his head to the side and nudged his sunglasses down his nose so he could look at her over the rims.

"We fucked. That was about it. She wanted more, I didn't, so I ended it," he said, meeting Temari's gaze directly. She jerked her head back.

"Okay then. My bad, I guess. I thought you guys were a thing."

Shisui heaved another sigh.

"The sex was great, but the connection didn't really go much deeper than that," he elaborated. He was being honest. He didn't really know why he was telling Temari this. She hadn't exactly dug any deeper.

"I get that," she said after a long pause. "It's just… she seemed to have feelings for you, and I assumed it was mutual." Shisui didn't respond, merely sliding his sunglasses back up to cover his eyes and turning his face back up the sky.

It was a few seconds before he heard Temari shift back to her original position. They lay there in companionable silence, and even though Shisui could sense that she had more questions, he didn't give her the opportunity to ask, and she didn't push.

He woke up about two hours later to find a towel draped over his body to protect his skin from the sunlight, which was almost directly overhead. Temari's spot was empty. He was a little more rested, but his mind was still in turmoil.

Should he have even come here?

He was in the middle of considering just going back home when he heard her distinctive laughter.

Sakura.

She was standing on the pier, dressed in a black monokini and flip-flops, her arm looped casually though Itachi's. They were both chatting with a group of well-wishing guests that were obviously having less of a challenge getting into the party spirit than Shisui was.

Well.

It was time for the games to begin.

Sakura was unable to get Itachi's admission out of her mind.

That night, they had held each other for a while and then had eaten their meal without really enjoying it or talking any further about what he had said. Their minds had been far too full.

He left about two hours later, silent and visibly apologetic. They had said their goodbyes quickly, each of them anxious to be alone and conscious that an irreversible something had been shifted.

She had been unable to sleep for hours later, and unable to focus for days on end. Her mind kept drifting to Itachi and his mother. Would it be taking a step backwards to get involved with that toxicity? Could she stand between the poisons of both her family and her potential in-laws? She had never met Uchiha Fugaku, but if his wife was a viper, what animal would he be?

And if she didn't get involved, was she ready to give up on the value she thought Itachi himself could add to her life? Each time they spoke, she found herself liking Itachi more and more. She found herself getting deeper and deeper into his personality. There was just something about him.

In any case, time had not stalled while she floundered, and things were going to go to the next level very soon. At the end of this beach party, things would begin moving quickly. If she wanted to back out, she would have to do it now.

She could still back out.

The problem was that she didn't want to.

Sorry that this was so short guys!

In return, if there is something you definitely want to see happen at this party, please let me know and I will see if I can work it in! I look forward to your reviews!

I love you guys lots! Stay safe!