Posting at the request of some lovely readers on tumblr. I didn't know this website was still alive. So. Hello, people. I'm not dead.

title Kiss kiss
summary Fill in the blanks, stupid.

"Welcome! Four people?"

"Yeah. Not really here for that. Need to talk to the person in charge here," a gruff voice replied.

"Okay. Hold on one moment please," a girl giggled in return.

Sakura pulled a fresh cigarette out of the box. She listened to the footsteps tap upstairs, up to her office door. Four knocks. Quick. Nervous.

She lit her cigarette.

"Come in," she called. The door burst open.

"Mama, there are some suspicious people here!" Moegi huffed and puffed.

"I heard Kansai-ben. They sounded a little rough," Sakura agreed. Sighing, she rose from her chair. She shed her sweater and stepped into the pair of high heels waiting at the door. Moegi fidgeted, her eyes darting back and forth.

"Are you really going to be okay, Mama? Are you in trouble?" she fretted. Smiling, Sakura plucked her cigarette from her mouth. She snubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray. With her free hand, she squeezed Moegi's cheeks together.

"Go check on Tenten and see if she needs any help at the bar," she instructed instead. She released the girl and then headed down the stairs. Slow and leisurely steps that echoed. As she descended, she got a good view of the whole club.

It was still early in the night, but there were already three groups of clients. Most of them looked like businessmen who had stopped in after work. The girls looked busy- laughing and listening to the men tell stories. Tenten was at the bar with a cocktail shaker. She met Sakura's eyes but Sakura gave a slight shake of her head. Tenten's mouth twisted but she stayed put.

"How can I help you gentlemen?"

The man at the front of the group lifted his head. He had a jagged scar down his cheek. He and his companions were all dressed similarly in cheap black suits. All four of them wore sunglasses indoors. And one had a shaved head. The bald one bared his teeth at her.

"I asked for the person in charge. Not another floozy," the scarred man grumbled.

Sakura folded her arms across her chest.

"I am in charge. Why don't you boys have a seat and then we can talk?" she replied, smile fixed in place.

"I already said that I ain't here to chat with you. I've heard there's someone I can talk to here about Special K," the man stated. His fists clenched, probably to intimidate her into talking. But Sakura only blinked.

"Like I just said, I would be happy to talk once we take a seat. This is the entrance to my establishment. I would prefer we not block it," she explained, still smiling. The man's eyes narrowed. He grabbed the a passing waiter and snatched a bottle of wine. Smashing it against the side of the bar, he pointed the jagged edge at Sakura. Several of the girls in the club screamed. And then a hush fell over the entire room. People twisted in their seats to stare.

"Listen, bitch. See these tattoos? I'm with the Uchiha group. Call your boss over or I'll make you talk," he snarled. He pulled up the sleeve of his suit to reveal a dark blue and red tattoo of an oni. From the clarity of the ink, it didn't look like an old mark.

"Really," sighed Sakura, looking down at her wine-splattered dress. It was completely ruined.

The man grabbed her, squeezing her forearm hard. Sakura winced.

"I'll cut that pretty face to ribbons. Let's see how well your establishment does then," he laughed. He held the tip of the bottle to her throat. It pricked at her skin.

When Sakura simply stared, he shook her.

"Do it!"

Sakura held her hand out. It trembled.

"The phone, please," she called. It took a moment, but one of the girls launched herself over the back of her booth. She scrambled under the bar to grab the landline. And then she thrust it into Sakura's hand. Her wet eyes stared up at the man holding the broken bottle.

Sakura dialed a number. She cleared her throat once and then stopped herself as the glass prickled at her skin.

"Hi. I have a very angry person here from the Uchiha group. He wants to talk to someone about Special K," Sakura explained in an even voice. The girl who had given her the phone knelt at her side, hugging her legs. Sakura reached down with her free hand to pat her head. The voice on the other end asked something.

"Yes. They did. Thank you."

Sakura hung up the phone. And the man with the scar only stared at her.

"Boss says if you want to know to bring in your informant. Because no one is telling you anything," she relayed. The yakuza grit his teeth. His beady gaze darted around the room.

"Looks like you've still got a big head. Think your boss is protecting you?" he scoffed. He jerked his head. His cronies immediately set to work smashing barstools and pushing glasses off the tables. When one of the clients tried to stop them, the bald one punched him in the face. The hostesses screamed, clinging to each other and cowering in corners.

Scarface grinned at Sakura, showing his crooked teeth.

"The Uchiha's run this city. You're looking to the wrong person to protect you, babe." He caressed the side of Sakura's face with the sticky bottle. She glared at him.

"Then you run and tell your boss. To come and negotiate with me. Because I don't talk to limp-dick little boys with mommy issues," she hissed in return. His smile disappeared. Letting the bottle drop, he grabbed her by the hair instead.

"You know what, bitch? I'll do just that. And let's see if you still talk so big." He tugged her hair extra hard before pushing her. She stumbled backward. The side of her forehead collided with the edge of the bar.

Guffawing, the thugs smashed one of the glass coffee tables for good measure.

The hostesses and clients leapt from their hiding places as soon as the men turned their backs to leave. One of the customers ran over the broken glass to help Sakura sit up. Blood trickled from the shallow cut between her fingers.

"Mama!" one of the girls shrieked.

"Quick! Grab a towel! Ayu, call an ambulance!" Tenten barked, already grabbing the reins.

"Shit. That looks bad. Should I go after them?" he asked in her ear. He let her rest against his chest as the world wavered. She shook her head.

"Aunt-" he tried again. Sakura grabbed the front of his shirt. She was immediately sorry that she got blood on his nice suit. But he didn't seem to mind.

"Don't call me that. Just stay put, Tommy," she croaked. His arms tightened around her. The hard shape of his gun dug into her spine, painfully.

"So…you mean to tell me that you smashed up a hostess club last week…" Sasori said. He spun a pencil between his fingers, staring at the goons. The four idiots bobbed their heads up and down. They were all tough talk and swagger until they sat in front of the higher-ups. Then they were cowering on the sofa, hands on their knees.

"Over what? That club has never given us trouble before," Kisame spoke up, puffing out a deep breath on his cigar. At this, the four fools sat up even straighter. The Uchiha-gumi's second-in-command had been somewhat of a loose cannon in his youth. Even now, youngsters trembled at the stories of the Blue Demon's brass knuckles. And they glinted as bright as ever on his hands as he held his cigar. Sasori resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Uh…well…Big Bro, we heard a rumor that someone at the club had an inside connection. Had some good leads," the one with the scar stammered. And then, turning his head muttered, "Turns out there was nothing but a mouthy bitch."

Sasori snapped the pencil between his fingers.

"A mouthy bitch? What did she look like?" he demanded. The four men jumped at his tone.

"Uh…pretty, I guess? Maybe in her early thirties? Pink hair…" one of the men listed.

"Well shit," sighed Kisame. He held the cigar between his teeth as he looked over at Sasori.

"You're going to want to tell that to the Godaime. Lemme go see if he's busy," grunted Kisame as he got to his feet.

"Wait! She's just some hostess! Do we really have to bother the kumicho over this?" the one with the scar asked. Kisame paused, his hand resting on the sliding door.

"Was she the Mama?" he queried. When Scarface nodded, Kisame let out a harsh guffaw.

"Good luck, kid," he simply said as he left the room.

Several minutes later, they were sitting in a room deeper in the house. And at the back of the room sat a man in a traditional deep blue haori over grey pants. Only his dark eyes moved as the men sat seiza in front of him- backs straight and feet under their buttocks. The position made them cramp and ache, but what choice did they have under such an intimidating stare?

"I'm busy. Tell me," he demanded. And his deep, quiet voice sent a chill up all their spines. Sasori and Kisame stood on either side of him. It looked suspiciously like Sasori was trying not to smile.

"Uh…forgive us for wasting your time, Kumicho. We had a run-in at a hostess bar. I think it was called Twilight Dreams?" the man with the scar began.

The boss' eyebrow might have twitched.

"Word on the street was that someone there had an in with some ketamine. So we went to talk and the Mama there was downright disrespectful to the Uchiha name," he went on.

The boss opened his mouth.

"This should have been made clear to you. But the Uchiha-gumi does not handle drugs," he growled. Scarface twitched.

"Yes! Of course, Oyabun- I mean, Kumicho! It's just that I was told to investigate who might be selling the stuff onto our- I mean your turf!" he scrambled to explain. The boss glared at him but motioned for him to continue speaking.

"Anyway, the Mama mouthed off at us so we smashed up her shop. Just to scare her. So I'm asking if you could send people to really teach them a lesson? She didn't just curse at me, she's making a fool of the Uchiha name, Kumicho!"

The boss stared him down for the longest time. And then he clicked his tongue.

"Truly wasting my time with this," he said. But then he sighed. "Make a formal apology to her. We're yakuza- not vagrants."

"Kumicho?!"

"Now get out," he then ordered, already getting to his feet.

Sakura stared out the window from her second floor office. She exhaled, smoke rising in wisps from her lips. Tapping her cigarette against the edge of the ashtray, she glanced down at her computer screen. The numbers on the spreadsheet all read green except for a few areas. Cigarette in her mouth, she bent over to type out a quick reply.

When a knock disturbed her, she tapped the send button. Shutting her laptop, she used the point of her shoe to push her bottom drawer closed. It locked in a series of rapid clicks. And then she turned back toward the window, one arm wrapped around her middle.

"Come in," she replied.

"Mama," Moegi hedged. Sakura glanced over her shoulder. The poor girl was shaking.

"It's the same scary people as last time. And they brought even more with them," she whispered.

"Finally. Took them long enough," Sakura grumbled. She whisked her blazer off the back of her chair and draped it over her shoulders. It was the color of cream. Underneath was a black dress with thin straps. A little more revealing than she normally wore. But this was for a good occasion. All the while, Moegi continued to fret.

"Go back to the front. Your regular usually comes today," Sakura reminded her. Moegi continued to hesitate until Sakura physically pushed her out the door. Snubbing her cigarette out, Sakura slowly made her way downstairs.

Just like the week before, the four ruffians stood in the entrance of the club. But behind them stood two other men. Sakura matched eyes with the one with blue hair and diamonds glittering his ears. He winked at her.

"I'm taking the VIP table in the back. Get it ready for me," Sakura announced, raising her hand.

"Yes, Mama!" the staff replied. The servers immediately whirled around gathering clean glasses and coasters.

The VIP table was tucked all the way in the back of the club. It had the usual booth seats with the square table in the middle. But there were also sheer glittery curtains to afford a little more privacy.

Sakura sat in the cushioned seat. The two new men sat on either side of her while the four brutes sat catty-corner from them.

Scarface's entire face contorted as he sank into the seat. Hands on his knees, he bent his neck.

"I'm here to apologize," he began.

Sakura held up her hand. She pushed a menu over to him, lips smiling.

"This is a hostess club. If you want to talk to me, you have to buy my time," she instructed. Scarface stared unblinking at the menu.

"I ain't here for no drinks. I'm here to apologize for trashing your club last time," Scarface ground out. Sakura widened her eyes.

"Oh. You are? Then apologize after you buy me a drink," she insisted. Scarface's eyelid twitched. Kisame sighed.

"Easy, Mama. I'll buy you a glass of Pinot Noir," offered Sasori, trying to pick up the menu. Sakura pushed his hand aside, keeping her eyes fixed on Scarface. He slapped his palms down on his seat.

"Man, I'm just trying to apologize to you, you crazy woman. Just cut it out with the fucking drinks!" he yelled and then immediately sat back down, his face going red. While his friends attempted to calm him down, Sasori reached over for Sakura's wrist. He glanced under her sleeve. And then pushed the lapel of her blazer aside with the back of his hand.

"Oh my," he simply said. Scarface's head jerked up in time to see Kisame pushing Sakura's bangs aside to reveal a white bandage. She met his panicked look with a wide smile.

"Shit. The Boss is going to have a fit," Kisame muttered.

Crossing her arms across her chest, Sakura motioned with her chin toward Scarface.

"Go tell your boss that you're most certainly not forgiven," she declared. And then her smile dropped.

"Now get the fuck out of my store," she added. As Scarface opened his mouth to protest, the cold barrel of a gun pressed to the back of his head. Swallowing down his next words, he quickly made his way from the establishment. His three friends trailed after him like little ducklings.

"I will take that Pinot, Sasori," Sakura remarked as she watched them flee.

It took several more days for him to arrive.

It was late on a Tuesday night with rain pouring down on the city. As the door opened and shut, Ayu ran up to greet the customer, Moegi trailing her.

"Welcome! Just one?" she asked, beaming. Her smile faltered when she took in the customer's black suit and dark sunglasses. Moegi quietly excused herself to run upstairs.

"Ah. Could I request Mama?" the man asked. Ayu giggled nervously.

"Well, that's certainly not common. But if she's not busy, I'm sure that Mama would be happy to see you. Would you like to look at a menu while you wait for Mama? I'm sure she'll be right down," she babbled, handing him a laminated sheet. But the man shook his head.

"Dom Perignon White Gold. A bottle for each table," he immediately said. The girl's eyes bugged out.

"Um… you mean just one for your table, correct?" she asked, sweating. The man didn't seem the least bit annoyed.

"A bottle for each table," he repeated, handing over his credit card.

Sakura came down the stairs. She glanced his way. And then, not greeting him, she raised her hand.

"The VIP table," she called out, already strolling to the back.

"Right away, Mama!" voices chorused back.

Ayu looked from Sakura's retreating back to the intimidating man.

"Well…I guess she wants you to follow her?" she wondered.

"Of course," the man murmured. He brushed past the girl.

Moegi sidled up next to Ayu. She looked at the credit card in the girl's hand. It was matte and completely black.

"Wow. That guy must be loaded. Who is he?" she whispered. The girls jumped when a towel flew at them from the bar. Tenten scowled.

"Get the man his champagne!" she scolded the gossiping girls.

Sakura sat, her left leg crossed over her right knee. Her dress was white with sparkles across her chest. It was one of her rare strapless dresses. As she settled in, she adjusted the sleeves of the black blazer she had draped over her shoulders.

"Dom Perignon White Gold, Mama," one of the servers announced as he set the bottle and two glasses down on the table. Sakura's expression thawed a little. She uncrossed her arms.

"My, my, Uchiha Itachi. Feeling generous, aren't we?" she commented.

Chuckling, Itachi took the bottle. He grasped the bottom. Pointing the top away from her, he carefully popped the cork and poured her a glass. The light gold champagne bubbled pleasantly. When he handed her the flute, she accepted with fingers skimming over his. He didn't pour himself a glass.

He looked around the shop as she took a sip.

"This place looks good. I heard it was bashed up quite a bit," he commented.

"Is that what the Dom Peri's for?" she queried, staring him down over the lip of her glass. Itachi waved the thought away.

"No. That's just for you," replied Itachi.

"Hmmm," she hummed into her champagne. Pretending she didn't see his smile.

As they sat in comfortable silence, someone rapped their knuckles against the wall. A head poked past the curtain.

"Ah. Tommy!" Sakura greeted him. He was dressed in a charcoal suit with a light blue tie. Even his little pocket square matched the rest of his outfit. His bleached hair was a little too gaudy for him to be the average businessman.

"Just wanted to drop by and say hello, Mama. You seem busy so I won't keep you," he said and then his head disappeared. Itachi's eyes narrowed.

"His Japanese was a little off…" he commented.

Sakura sighed, hand under her chin.

"Yeah. Tommy's still learning," she replied. She held out her glass and Itachi poured her a refill. And then, leaning back, Itachi pulled the curtain aside to stare out at the rest of the club. The man named Tommy sat together with the redheaded hostess. He put his arm around her shoulders, laughing. The girl slapped his arm in return, giggling.

"Tommy's new blood. He's been pretty useful. He's handling a lot of the racketeering down in Yokohama," commented Sakura.

She slid across the seats to settle directly beside him. She pointed at another table.

"That's Charlie Lau. Goes by Chojuro. He's got big connections to dealers in Hong Kong." The man with light blue hair caught their gaze. He lifted his glass to Sakura in a salute. She winked in return.

And then she pointed to one of the servers delivering a tray of fruity cocktails.

"That's Sai. He wanted to shoot that idiot so badly before. I made him promise to be good today." As if he could hear her, the server looked over. When he met Sakura's gaze, he dipped his head ever-so-slightly. And then Sakura pointed to the bartender.

"And that's Tenten. She's my number two."

Sakura took Itachi's hand so that it would release the curtain.

"My point being that when my boys come in, they're dressed for the part. So that they don't scare my customers and disrupt my business," Sakura said. She pointed at Itachi's sunglasses. And then waved her hand over his black suit with black shirt. Itachi looked down at himself.

"Unlike your goons. Running in breaking shit and spilling drinks. Not to mention terrifying my girls. This is why I can't stand the yakuza," Sakura scolded. Itachi took off his sunglasses, tucking them into the front of his shirt. He ran his hand through his hair, puffing out a sigh. And then he reached inside his jacket to pull out a checkbook and a fountain pen.

"Alright. Tell me how much I owe you," he conceded.

A snort of laughter escaped Sakura. She quickly held up her hand in front of her mouth. When Itachi looked up at her, she struggled to hide her smile.

"You yakuza are so old-fashioned. Wire the money over to us by the end of next month. I'm in no hurry. I know you're not going anywhere," she waved aside his offer. Pursing his lips, Itachi stared down at his checkbook, hands clasped.

"Unless being in debt to me bothers you so much," she added as she watched his expression. Draping her arm over the back of her seat, Sakura snapped her fingers.

"Tommy."

Itachi watched as Tommy leapt over the back of his booth and jogged over. His head poked in past the curtain again.

"Yes, Aunt?"

Sakura gestured toward Itachi with her flute of champagne.

"This is the daai lou who's helping us pay for the club's repairs. Say hello," she directed.

"Daai lou," repeated Tommy.

Tommy bowed neatly, his forehead parallel to the ground. When he lifted his head, he was grinning. Leaning against the back of the booth, he looked between them. After a long minute, he reached into his back pocket to pull out a business card. He handed it over to Itachi with both hands.

"This is my work number. Give me a call anytime. Since it looks like Aunt likes you, we can talk about a payment plan, yeah," Tommy said, all white teeth. Itachi accepted the card. It was for a big trading company. To his surprise, the name on the card was in gold kanji.

"Iwano Deidara?" Itachi read out loud. Tommy shrugged.

"Makes it easier to do business, yeah. Somehow the people are more trusting when they think they're dealing with their own," he explained in return.

"Tommy-kun!" the hostesses called his name. Tommy looked over his shoulder.

"Gotta go. I ordered the champagne tower just for you, Auntie," Tommy said, pointing finger guns at Sakura. She smiled in return.

"You're too good to me, Tommy," she responded.

Tommy's head disappeared behind the curtain again. A cheer rose from the middle of the room. As the curtain fluttered, Itachi glimpsed the servers rolling out carts carrying several bottles of champagne and countless glasses.

"Daai lou?" Itachi then said, turning back to Sakura.

"It's the same thing as what yours call you. Big brother. Although, I could have him call you Kumicho, if you'd like," Sakura explained. Itachi shook his head. After some thinking, he reached for the empty flute. Sakura laughed as she poured him a glass.

"Now you're speaking my language," she remarked. They clinked glasses together.

It had been a long time since Itachi had visited her club. Long enough that the new girls had no idea who he was, anyway. They chatted at length about the old times. Several times, Itachi's eyes were drawn to her legs or to the way her smiling mouth moved as she spoke. Each time, he shook himself out of his stupor, pretending not to notice Sakura laughing at him.

A server dropped off a flute of champagne- this one a pinker color.

"From Tommy-san," explained Sai.

And then later came a Shirley Temple with an extra cherry garnish.

"From Shino-san," Sai said this time, gesturing toward a bespectacled man who had arrived later in the night.

Itachi raised his eyebrow at each drink.

"Aunt Cheng. If I could have just a moment of your time," a deep voice interrupted their conversation about an hour later. Moving the curtain aside, Kiba blinked hard at the sight before him. He bared his teeth, already reaching for his gun.

"Kiba-kun. Not in my house," Sakura reminded him, holding up a cherry and examining it in the light. Itachi's hand, which had flown inside his jacket, froze too. The two men stared each other down.

"Did you come here to talk about this month's shipment?" she asked, still remarkably calm.

"Not in front of an Uchiha," growled Kiba. His fingers were still clenched firmly around his weapon.

Sighing, Sakura reached back to adjust her dress. She slipped her hands between the cushions of the booth and pulled out a gold gun. Diamonds glinted along the side. She held it up, pointing it directly between Kiba's eyes.

"I said not in my house, Kiba-kun," she repeated in the same blasé tone.

He stared down the barrel of the gun at her.

"Come back tomorrow. And don't pull that shit in my club again," she added.

Letting out a shaky breath, Kiba lowered his hand. He bowed, eyes avoiding Itachi.

"My apologies, Aunt Cheng. I'll be back," he agreed. And then he disappeared, shoving the curtain back into place. Sakura slowly lowered the gun.

"You're dealing with the Inuzuka-kai?" demanded Itachi. Sakura balanced her gun in her lap, reaching for her drink. She sipped her champagne.

"The Uchiha-gumi doesn't touch drugs. The Inuzuka-kai does. There's no conflict of interest there," she replied with a shrug of her shoulder. And then she looked at him out of the corner of her eyes.

"However, I will talk with them about selling their ketamine on your turf. I assume that's what your boys were squawking about the other day," added Sakura. As she reached back to hide the gun again, something caught Itachi's eye. He took her wrist, pulling it close to examine the bruises around her forearm.

"What's this?" he demanded. Sakura said nothing. She didn't protest as he pushed her jacket off her shoulders and examined her. As he turned her, he caught sight of the light scabs on the left side of her throat. And then he pushed her hair aside and saw the bandage that had been hiding under her bangs.

"Jing-Mei," he growled.

Her eyes narrowed. She pulled her jacket back on in impatient yanks.

"I hate it when you call me that," she complained, not looking at him.

"Why would you let him do that? You could've easily handled all four of them," Itachi demanded. Sakura swirled the champagne around in her flute.

He was correct. There was no need to have let those four fools smash up her beloved club. Had she given the signal, Tommy and Tenten would have easily taken them out. Tenten, especially, had deadly aim and never missed.

"And start an all-out war between the Uchiha-gumi and the 24K? Is that what you want to see again?" she shot back. And then she fluffed her hair.

"Besides, my people are well-trained. They only bite when I tell them to. I won't have another Orochimaru situation," she said in a lower voice.

"Well, we have to figure this out. If your higher-ups find out about this before we resolve it, it won't be pretty," Itachi retorted. Sakura nodded.

"I am Uncle Hashirama's favorite. He won't let a sleight against me go," she agreed. The Dragon Head's wrath wasn't something anyone wanted to risk.

Sakura's eyes skimmed around the room as she thought. She folded her arms across her chest.

"Give me Scarface. I don't need the other three. I do need to send a message. I'm sure Uncle already knows."

Itachi studied her face for a long time.

"…What are you planning to do to him?" he asked, almost dreading the answer.

Her answering smile was absolutely chilling.

"You don't get to be a Red Pole without spilling a little blood. I'll do enough to get Uncle Hashirama off your back," she assured him. When the color drained out of his face, Sakura's expression softened. She took his chin and pulled his face closer.

"Or would you prefer to kill him yourself? Either way, it needs to happen," she whispered. Itachi closed his eyes.

"Fucking shit, Sakura," he sighed. He grasped her hand and held it to his forehead for a long time. He then pressed a kiss to her knuckles before he got to his feet. Sakura watched him with a half-smile on her lips.

"Give me your answer by the end of this week," she said. Sakura stood too. She walked him to the door. And Itachi was acutely aware of the eyes that tracked his every movement. It was remarkable how well they blended in. Had she not pointed them out, he never would have pegged them as anything more than men blowing off some steam at the end of a long workday. She was right that they were far less noticeable than the yakuza around this part of the city. Perhaps there was something to learn from the triads.

Sakura put her hands on his shoulders.

"Don't work too hard, Kumicho. You've aged poorly," she murmured.

"Half of this is because of you," he retorted, almost smiling.

"Only half?" she asked, looking hurt. One of the hostesses quietly handed Sakura his credit card. She slipped it into his jacket pocket, her body pressing against his. Itachi pressed his lips together.

"Cheng Jing-Mei," he sighed, "you will be the death of me."

Sakura took a step back.

"I don't know who you're talking about. I'm just the mama of a hostess club," she insisted. Blowing him a kiss, she waved as he turned and walked out the door.

By Saturday, a package arrived in the alley behind the club.

"Oh, that man. Even wrapping it up," Sakura sighed fondly. Scarface struggled against the red ribbon and masking tape binding his hands and feet.

"Should we dump him in the river, Aunt Cheng?" asked Sai, tilting his head to one side.

"I would prefer to bury him alive," Tenten suggested, leaning against her broom.

"Oh, that sounds fun, but I have other plans," Sakura replied.

"By the way," Sai said, hauling the man to his feet, "Who did you call when this one told you call your boss?" Tenten looked at Sakura too, just as curious. Sakura looked at them like that was the stupidest question I ever heard.

"I just called my cell and left a message. He did say to call the boss," she retorted.

Tenten just shook her head.

"Man, you're scary as hell, Auntie," Sai chuckled, dragging the man towards his van.

The following Monday, a package arrived at the real estate office that served as one of the Uchiha-gumi's many fronts. Deidara shook the box, already grimacing. He didn't even try to open it. Instead he placed it on Itachi's desk. Kisame made a face.

When Itachi undid the twine, the box unfolded, spreading like a platter on his desk. In the center of the cardboard sat an arrangement of ten fingers. There was no trace of blood. They were neat, white fingers- almost like they were made out of wax. In the center of the masterpiece sat a little card.

Out of 10, this is how much I appreciated your gift. I sent the head to Uncle Hashirama so everything should be good for now.

Come visit me again soon.

Kisame cringed around his cigar. He prodded at one of the fingers with a pencil.

"Damn, Aniki. She's as crazy as she's hot," he remarked.

"If this is what she's like as an ally, what was she like as an enemy?" wondered Sasori.

Itachi rested his chin in his hand.

"I kind of want to marry her. What do you think of her as an Ane-san?" he said, his tone wistful.

Kisame nearly swallowed his cigar.

"Aniki… you might want to get your head checked out," he whispered.