Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. At all.

Bad Hair Day

"Alright, Uchiha. You can either sit here quietly and get your hair cut, or go to Sound, kick Orochimaru's ass, and bring him back to Konoha for trial. Which sounds like the simpler path?" In which Mikoto's bad hair-cutting skills and a pair of scissors bring Sakura and Itachi together. ItaSaku / oneshot / non-massacre

"I refuse."

Sakura folded her arms crossly, impatience beginning to seep into her eyes as she stared at the Uchiha leaning nonchalantly against her kitchen wall. Spending half an hour arguing with Uchiha Itachi could really raise a person's blood-pressure, and Sakura was no different.

She exhaled loudly, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Itachi-san, I promise it'll be painless." So far her persuasion methods had been largely fruitless. How did she always managed to get roped into these things again? She really needed to practice telling people "No" when they asked favors from her, no matter who or what it was.

"I am sure," he agreed courteously, though with a sardonic half-smile on his lips, "But that does not change the fact that I have no need of your…services, Sakura-san."

Sakura raised her eyebrows at him in disbelief as she took in the "thing" that was the cause of her headache. Hell, if it was any longer, he'd be tripping on it. "You're joking, right?"

The flat look he leveled her with plainly said "I do not joke", reminding her that this was Uchiha Itachi she was dealing with.

This was getting ridiculous. Despite how bad-ass or dangerously hot his unearthly long hair made him appear (not that Sakura was noticing, it was merely the general opinion of the female population of Konoha), when a man's hair began to fall down to his elbows in silken waves of black, it was clearly time for a hair cut.

"Look, Mikoto-san asked me this as a personal favor," Sakura explained hastily, trying to get through to the obstinate man. "You and I both know that she's not the most…talented person with the scissors—"

Itachi and Sakura both winced at the many years of seeing Sasuke show up to missions with a nearly shaven head after Mikoto-san's "legendary haircuts". Idly, Sakura wondered how Itachi had managed to evade his mother for so long.

She cleared her throat, shaking her head free of those not-so-pleasant memories. "So, anyways, knowing how much you value your hair," she shot it an admiring look, briefly thinking of her own shorn locks that had once been so long and lustrous (she denied that she was having a strong case of hair envy), "I agreed to lend her a hand. Literally."

"How admirable of you. But I must decline," he commented quietly, making Sakura's eye twitch furiously. Did he not listen to anything she said? Stupid, high-and-mighty Uchiha heir!

She shuddered at how similar the words "heir" and "hair" were, and wondered if she would ever be able to look at a haircut in the same way after this fiasco was over. Probably not. Damn that Uchiha, she swore viciously inside her poor, spinning brain.

"Well," she hissed impatiently, about fed up with him. "How do you cut your hair then?"

He raised an eyebrow, as though he found it obvious. "With a kunai."

She choked, chills creeping up her spine as a particular incident at her first Chunin exam flashed through her head. "Are you…serious?" Please God, she prayed fervently, don't let me have anything in common with this arrogant jerk.

"Hardly."

THE *&$*&#$ BASTARD'S TOYING WITH US! SHANNARO, JUST FORCE HIM INTO THE DAMN HAIRCUTTING CHAIR ALREADY AND SHAVE HIM BALD!

As tempting as Inner Sakura's suggestion was, Sakura didn't think she was quite at the level where she could force Itachi into something against his will. Instead, she steeled her nerves and pointed stonily to the wooden chair innocently placed in the middle of her kitchen, on top of a blanket meant for catching the stray pieces of cut hair.

"Alright, Uchiha. You can either sit here quietly and get your hair cut, or go to Sound, kick Orochimaru's ass, and bring him back to Konoha for trial," Sakura told him sarcastically. "Which sounds like the easier and painless activity, huh?"

There was a moment of silence, Itachi and Sakura locked in a blatant staring contest. Sakura fingered the scissors in triumph, already preparing to snip, snip, snip those black locks. Maybe even give the Uchiha a Mohawk for the trouble he'd caused for her and the sanity he'd stolen.

"Give me four days to retrieve Orochimaru."

Sakura nearly face-faulted, glaring at the smirking Uchiha standing nonchalantly across from her.

She opened her mouth before abruptly shutting it, unable to find a comeback to that. Damn genius, prodigal Uchiha could probably do it too. But she couldn't fail Mikoto-san! She just had to succeed in cutting that stupid hair!

Alright, so maybe threats weren't the right tactic to use with the resident Uchiha Sadist.

"Sasuke told me a guy at the market yesterday thought you were a girl," Sakura said lightly, trying to sound as innocent as possible. Her lips quirked up in a playful smile. "How did you enjoy experiencing flirting from from the woman's perspective, Itachi-san?"

Itachi's dark eyes narrowed. She grinned to herself—obviously she'd struck a nerve. "That was a…mistake," he replied emotionlessly. "One easily rectified."

Sakura sighed, not wanting to think about what Itachi had done to the poor man who had questioned his masculinity. No doubt they would unearth the unlucky sod in a few years or so. "Still," she began, eyeing Itachi's hair meaningfully, "You can understand how someone could easily mistake you for a—"

One glance at Itachi's dangerous glare had Sakura quickly backtracking. "—I mean, your hair is long, and don't get me wrong, it doesn't look bad, quite pretty in fact—" Sakura babbled rapidly, making Itachi's expression lighten somewhat in amusement. "But if you don't want repeat experiences, you'll let me do something about it," she finished weakly, handling the scissors nervously.

Itachi tilted his head, eyes sweeping over her thoughtfully, and for a hopeful moment Sakura thought he was considering it.

That was, until he killed it dead in the typical Uchiha monosyllabic fashion.

"No."

Dammit! Couldn't he just comply with the whole thing? For pete's sake, it was just hair! He was even more of a girl about getting his hair lopped off than Ino was!

Sakura rolled her eyes. "Come on, Itachi-san."

"No."

"Two inches?" She begged, mentally disbelieving she had stooped so low as to plead with this arrogant ass.

His dark eyes continued to bore into her increasingly frustrated ones. "No."

She made her green orbs as large and watery as possible. By now Naruto and Sasuke would have given in, but Itachi was evidently made of stronger stuff. "One inch! Just one measly inch!"

"I believe I gave you my answer, Sakura-san," Itachi deadpanned, ignoring the scowl she sent at him. "Or have you become hard of hearing?"

"My hearing's fine," she snarled. "Now stop being such a child! Even Sasuke doesn't give me this much trouble when I want to give him a hair cut!" She exclaimed, becoming highly irritated with this whole thing. Really, if she hadn't liked Mikoto-san so much, she would have never agreed to undertake such an impossible mission. Uchiha Itachi was one of the most damn stubborn men she had yet to come across.

"Sasuke may enjoy the hair style you regularly give him, which unfortunately gives him the appearance of a duck," Itachi said in a bored tone, ignoring her ire, "But I have no wish to share the same fate."

Sakura gaped at him wordlessly, mouth opening and closing. Oh, he did not just insult her hair-cutting abilities.

But Itachi hadn't quite finished. "And Naruto-kun's somewhat resembles that of an electrified porcupine," he remarked blandly, before surveying her shaking form with interest and suppressing a smirk. "Given that, I'm assuming you cut his hair as well, Sakura-san?"

Those scissors in her hand were beginning to look remarkably appealing, she mused, attracted by their pointy-ness. She had a brief moment of happiness when she imagined them sticking out of Itachi's overinflated head. Then she wondered how many years in prison one would receive for doing in Konoha's most celebrated ANBU captain with a pair of scissors. Though everyone would probably be entirely sympathetic with her if they knew what a jerk he could be.

Itachi seemed to have found a new hobby in baiting Sakura, for he couldn't deny that it was quite…fascinating to watch her small frame quiver with murderous intent while he spoke, her hand tightening around the accursed scissors she was clutching. He inwardly smiled, observing Sakura with a languid look. Slyly, he commented, "I can only suppose that you are responsible for Hatake-senpai's…eccentric hairstyle as well, Sa-ku-ra."

Sakura snapped. That was it. That did it. Insinuating she had anything to do with Kakashi-sensei's absurdly lopsided head of hair was just plain insulting to her pride as a woman and a hair cutter.

The Uchiha was going down, and she would be the one to do it.

All in all, Itachi wasn't extremely surprised when an outraged pinkette leapt towards him, brandishing her scissors like a scythe.

In her fury, Sakura didn't stop to think that Itachi had subtly and purposefully angered her to divert her attention from cutting his hair.

Then again, he was a genius.

Sasuke and Naruto noisily pushed open the door to Sakura's kitchen, bickering over whether or not to have ramen for lunch yet again. And then froze in their tracks.

In front of them, on Sakura's own kitchen floor, was Itachi lying flat on his back with a face that could only be described as on the verge of amusement, and a furious looking Sakura was straddling his waist, a raised hand grasping scissors and posed to plunge them down.

"Aniki!"

"S-S-Sakura-chan! What're you doing?"

Sakura and Itachi both turned their heads to catch sight of a horrified Sasuke and a flabbergasted Naruto standing stock still, observing the scene.

She groaned in her head—she had completely forgotten to tell them about her little appointment with Itachi today. She could only imagine how this appeared, and it was obvious that both were totally misunderstanding the situation. Sasuke clearly thought she was about to murder Itachi (which wasn't too far off from what she wanted to do, she added darkly) and Naruto…she glanced at Naruto's wide-eyed face…well, who knew what Naruto was thinking.

"It is fine, Sasuke."

Itachi's words obviously soothed Sasuke, and he nodded, reassured that his beloved elder brother was not in any mortal and immediate danger from Sakura and her pair of scissors.

Naruto, however, still wore a confused expression, switching his gaze from Itachi, to Sakura, to the scissors. "But, Sakura-chan, what are you…" He trailed off, eyes widening as the implications of their position hit him, and he looked at the scissors in Sakura's hand again. "Oh. Oh." A grin spread across his face, and Sakura momentarily thought he had a horrible resemblance to Jiraiya. "Man, that's kinky."

Sakura gasped, and she heard a soft snort come from Itachi.

"Ah, no, Sasuke, Naruto, wait!" Desperately, she tried to scramble off of Itachi, only to find that her foot was trapped underneath him in the human tangle they made. Hence, she tripped, sprawling flat on him instead. "It's not what you think!"

Naruto turned, already grabbing a green-looking Sasuke and dragging him out. "C'mon teme, I don't wanna know."

Sasuke weakly allowed himself to be pulled out, shooting one last incredulous look at his brother and best friend. "Aa, for once, you're right dobe."

"Dammit, now my appetite's been ruined!" Naruto complained loudly, and Sakura heard fervent agreements from Sasuke.

"No!" Sakura cried out, even as the door swung shut behind her two best friends, her face a ghostly pale. "It's not—wait!"

But they had gone.

Sakura groaned, momentarily forgetting everything in the face of her despair and burying her head miserably in Itachi's chest. "And it was supposed to be a simple hair cut," she moaned loudly. "Now look what happened! This is all your fault, Uchiha!"

"Hn." The quiet laughter in his voice made her blood boil. How he could be laughing in a terrible situation like this was far beyond her. By tomorrow, given Naruto's incredibly loud mouth, the entirety of Konoha was likely to think that she and Itachi were—ugh. She turned crimson just at the mere thought.

"Don't give me your stupid monosyllabic—"

"Sakura."

Itachi easily raised himself into a sitting position, Sakura sliding up with him.

"What?" She muttered grumpily, still seething about the whole thing. She was so emotionally exhausted she couldn't even summon the strength to push away from Itachi, which just made her all the more irate.

He smirked, reaching out to tuck one strand of hair behind her ear.

Hair, she thought morbidly, too depressed to even bother smacking his hand away. It was what had started this whole mess.

"I shall allow you to cut my hair."

She stared up at him. Well, what had changed his mind so abruptly? Suspiciously, she asked, "You will?"

"Yes."

She exhaled softly in relief, already opening her mouth to thank him. She would be able to make Mikoto-san happy, and rid herself of Itachi at the same time. Hopefully she could just chop off his hair and be done with it. Period. Then she would never, never, never ever have to see his face again. However, she was cut off before she was able to.

His lips quirked up in what she could only describe as a devious smile. "As long as you are the one to cut my hair every time from here on in. As a favor to my…mother."

Sakura knew he was relishing in the abject horror on her face. Damn bastard had her and he knew it.

He laughed softly, leaning in ever-so-slightly. "Please take care of me, Sakura-san."

I was dragged to get a haircut this weekend. Thus, this story was born XD

I appreciate constructive criticism, helpful tips, or plain ol' happy comments, so please leave a review!