Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto plot or it's characters. I just like to play with them.

Summary: AU Itachi/Sakura. Passion. Desire. Love. Lust. The tango. A dance as old as the smile and just as charming. One young medical student. An attractive, demanding tango dancer. Strings are the building blocks of the Universe. Or so the theory goes...

Status: Incomplete

Rating: K+

Posted: 04/09/10

Author's Note: And old story about to be refurbished and continued since I loved it so much.

"Sakura-chan!"

The medic-student scrunched up her nose in annoyance as she dumped her ruined cooking apron and rug in the trash. She turned around and brushed her bangs out of her eyes. She smiled and she waved at the blonde boy.

"Hi Naruto, how's Hinata and the baby?"

The young man grinned, pride overwhelming his face.

"She's doing great. And Yamane is good. He said his first word. Sakura-chan! It was 'Ramen' Can you believe it?!"

Sakura laughed.

"I see, like father like son huh?"

"Yup. So, how's the medical school going? Studying your brains out again? You look pretty wiped."

Sakura scratched her head and gave Naruto a sheepish smile.

"Yeah, I haven't slept in a couple of days. But don't worry, I'm doing fine. I just have to memorize all the dosage charts and I'm good for at least tomorrow."

The blonde narrowed his eyes. "Don't overwork yourself, Hinata and me are worried you'll collapse again."

She shook her head and ruffled his hair. "Naruto, I'm 23. I can take care of myself. And that incident was because I simply took more classes than I should have. My schedule is a lot better now. But thanks for looking out for me, both of you." Looking at her watch Sakura gasped.

"Shit! Naruto, tell Hinata I said hi and yes to the invitation to dinner Sunday! Bye!" She waved quickly and ran back inside the apartment building, leaving a stunned Naruto in her wake.

"…Invitation?...What invitation?! I'm outta of the loop AGAIN?! Ugh! Hinata-chaaaaaaaaan!"

"Shoes….shoes…oh fuck it!" She grabbed the pair buckle knee high black boots with her pale hands and slipped them on quickly. She stood up straight and gave herself an overlook in the body length mirror. She tugged on her black mid-thigh skirt and tan waitress- "tool belt". The fitted red tee gleamed with her name tag. Swearing crudely under her breath, Sakura dug deep into one of her belt pockets and pulled out a hair-tie. She stared at herself in the mirror while tying her short hair back in a high pony tail, approving the light amount of make-up. Sakura grabbed her bag and whisked out of her apartment, locking the door behind her.

The warm, cool summer air crisped around her bare arms and filled her nostrils with the calming scent of cappuccinos and cigarettes. Her bangs swayed slightly at her movement and tickled her forehead. She paused in front of a small café and bar.

Las Mariposas.

The Butterflies.

Pushing the door ajar, she plunged into the familiar music cocooned milieu. Sakura nodded to her coworkers already waiting on customers. Passing tables, conversations wafted into her direction.

"Did you hear? He and his partner are to perform here tonight!"

"I can hardly imagine, him of all people dancing here when the studio is so close. What's the point of coming here?"

"I heard he was slightly crippled and he had a peg leg, Grandpapa!"

A slight smile gleamed on her glossy lips and Sakura shook her head and tuned out the gossip. She walked to the bar and grinned when a familiar barkeep steadied in her line of vision.

"I see you haven't lost a pound Choji." The large man turned around and stuffed a chip in his mouth.

"Ah, Sakura. Hey, you're not late for once. Ino won't have an excuse to yell at you this time." The slightly pudgy man winced.

"Awww man… now she'll be hitting up on me and Shikamaru all night! Damn it…" He scowled into the shot glass he was cleaning.

Sakura laughed and walked behind the bar into the break room. She hung her bag in her locker and then glared slightly at the clock timer. Grudgingly she picked up her card and slid it into the slit, hearing the click she took it out and placed it back on the rack.

She walked out to the bar and grabbed a pad and a pen.

"Oi! Forehead Girl did you punch in?!"

Sakura whipped her head up and met with a blonde female. She pursed her lips and stuck out her tongue.

"Yeah, Ino-pig, I did. So what rounds do I get?"

Ino glared at her employee and a bit miffed, turned to the band playing. She leaned her chin on her hand and sat down on a stool.

"Tables, 1, 3, 6, 8, and 7. Melissa has 5, 10, 4, and 9. And the newbie, Tenten has 2, 11, and 12."

Sakura sighed. She muttered under her breath and watched as an old couple settled at table 6. As she came around the bar to gather their orders, she patted Ino on the back.

"Don't worry he'll be walking in here soon. Shikamaru doesn't like to keep a good girl waiting." She winked at Ino and walked over, greeting her first customers.

Ino smiled as she watched the pink-hair waitress smile and chat.

You're really a good friend aren't you, Sakura? You don't stop smiling either…how…are you so happy? Knowing…she is dying from that disease? How do you keep living?

Her blue eyes glistened and Choji placed a glass of water in front of her along with a tissue.

"Thanks Choji." She took a sip and the water soothed the tightening throat muscles. Her gaze followed Sakura around the room.

"No problem." Choji followed her eyes and watched his friend as well. He glanced at Ino and shook his head slightly.

"Ino, Sakura just has to make a little more money and she will soon be able to pay for that operation. She'll be fine."

"I know Choji, I just can't stand the fact that the only thing we can do is just stand here and watch her struggle to support her and her mother. We can't help but be here for her if she needs us. I told her I would gladly give her the amount of money but she refused…"

A new bored toned voice interrupted and warm arms wrapped around Ino's waist from behind.

"She's not struggling Ino. And if that's all we can do for her…than that's all we can do for her. Jeez, trust Sakura…she'll do it."

"Shika-kun!" Ino twisted around in Shikamaru's arms slide her arms around his neck, hugging him.

Shikamaru gritted his teeth and muttered slightly while trying to regain balance. "Women are so troublesome…jeez…"

Slap.

Sakura turned around quickly and chortled in humor.

Shikamaru you just never learn, do you?

"Ahem."

"Huh? Oh! I'm sorry sir." Sakura turned her head back to her most current customer of table three. She took out her pad and pen.

"What will you have?" She glanced at the odd man. His lopsided hair was a peculiar shade of silver and half of his face was covered in a navy blue mask that traveled down his neck under a black and white casual suit. She noticed one of his eyes was covered by an eye patch.

What a strange man…

"A French Vanilla cappuccino, with a chocolate slice on the side."

Sakura smiled and jotted down his order.

"I'll be right back with your order sir."

He leaned back in the booth and lazily watched out the window.

Sakura handed Choji the first flock of orders and waited idly with a large tray for the orders to come. Her green eyes darted to the local Hispanic band. They played the cultured music so well; that she thoroughly enjoyed listening to it every night. The balance between the violin, accordion, and other instruments blended within her body, it gave her an extra pump of energy to get through the night. Sakura excitedly watched as the band's female singer step up to the old fashioned microphone. She closed her eyes as she listened to the woman's somber voice wash over the lively room.

Tu muerte fue una tarde muy cálida de Octubre;

Your death was a very warm late October;

acaso presentiste que sucediera así:

perhaps you anticipated that it would happen this way:

en plena primavera y cuando el sol se viste

in full spring and when the sun is dressed

de luz y mariposas y el aire de jazmín.

of light and butterflies and the air of jasmine.

She grabbed the orders from Choji and placed them carefully on tray. She walked back to the cluster of tables and began pass out the coffee and snacks, to the correct people who ordered them.

A vos que te gustaba, profundamente serio,

You loved , deeply seriously, to

desentrañar las cosas, llegaste a tu confín

to unravel things, but you came to your limit

y esa doliente tarde entraste en el misterio

and so this aching evening you entered the mystery

para volver en tango, ¡mi viejo Catulín!

returning in tango, my old man Catulín!

She hummed lightly to the familiar song and smiled at the customers as she placed the coffee and cookies in front of them. Balancing the tray carefully, she weaved her way to table eight and five.

Me duele el sol

The sun hurts me

y hasta el alcohol,

because of the alcohol,

me pone triste.

it makes me sad.

Qué ausencia cruel

What cruel absence

de pan y miel

of bread and honey

cuando te fuiste.

when you went away.

Desde la luz de tu bondad eterna

From the light of your eternal kindness

nos sonreirás

We will smile

con la piedad más tierna.

with the most tender piety.

Me duele andar

To walk hurts me

y respirar

and so does breathing

sin ti...

without you...

Sakura paused and tucked piece of pink hair behind her eyes. As she looked up from recently setting down a cup of hot chocolate, Sakura noticed the hushed mood hanging in the air. Everyone's eyes were on the singer. The tiled and polished dance floor was empty. Pity. I haven't seen many people use that…

Recordaré tu nombre y tu mirada pura,

I will remember your name, your pure appearance,

tu oleada de ternura, mi viejo Catulín.

and your wave of tenderness, my old man Catulín.

Tu cara y el asombro donde asomaba el niño,

Your face of astonishment that was beginning to show the child inside,

tu río de cariño en medio del trajín...

and your fondness of the river in the middle of the Trajín.

La esgrima de tu prosa, tu verso cadencioso,

The fencing of your prose, your rhythmic poem,

nostálgico y celoso de esquinas y fondín,

nostalgic and jealous of corners in the tavern,

recordaré al nombrarte tus fraternales manos

I will keep the memory of naming your hands brotherly

y la palabra ¡Hermano!, ¡mi viejo Catulín!

and the word: Brother!, my old man Catulín!

Sakura wormed her way to table three, a French Vanilla cappuccino and a piece of chocolate the last thing on her tray. The applause for the ended song arose and drummed in her ears. Sakura set the tray down and picked up the plate and cup. She placed them down nimbly in front of the man and was going to ask if he wanted anything else, when she noticed her customer reading an orange covered book. She quirked a pink eyebrow.

"Sir? Would you like anything else?"

"…."

Sakura gave the man an annoyed look. Thankful for all those language lessons from her Japanese mother, she read the title.

Make-out Paradise? What the…! He's reading pornographic novels…IN PUBLIC?

"Kakashi."

Sakura jumped as she was pulled from her thoughts by the abrupt sound of his voice. Reeling back to what he actually said, Sakura's face radiated confusion.

"Wha…"

"It's my name. Kakashi. You can call me Kakashi." The man spoke without even raising his eyes to her and he flipped to the next page.

Sakura stared dumbly at the stranger now known as Kakashi and gaped a little.

"Um, alright Kakashi…my name is Sakura." She held out her hand and he shook it. But she annoyingly noticed his attention never strayed from his book. Her eyebrow twitched slightly and Sakura felt a little unnerved. She picked up her tray and as she walked away she glanced back at the man and smirked.

"You have a little drool seeping out of your mask." Cackling mentally as he quickly picked up a napkin and rubbed the perfectly clean mask; Sakura gave Choji back the tray and settled herself down at the bar. She waited for a customer to finish so she could get their check and bus.

A young woman climbed out of the cab, laying her hand in a male's. His large hand wrapped around hers and he pulled her away from the yellow monstrosity. The neon lights splashing Las Mariposas glided along the brick building.

"This must be the place." She calmly adjusted her dress, making sure her shoes where in proper order.

"It is." The man's throaty yet smooth voice vibrated through the air. He lifted a masculine hand to his black alpaca fiber fedora hat and pulled the side over one eye, staring at the café doors. A long black pony-tail protruded from the back and fell on his shoulders. An odd reddish glint sparkled in his mysterious black visible eye. He walked to the doors, the woman in tow, and entered the small arrangement of familiar music and good coffee.

Hora de bailar.

Time to dance.