Ahhh, and here I am with the revised Perfection Through Silence. I think it's a bit better than the last one, and I hope you do too. But, I won't ask for a review until the last chapter (which is still chapter three, sorry).

Have fun.

Disclaimer: Yeah. Right. That'll happen.

Charcoal scratched against paper, a raspy sound that managed to be both consoling and irritating at the same time. The noise was ignored by the holder of the pencil as green eyes stared at the small cluster of building and fields that made up a rural village. Pink petals and deep-purple hair swirled in front of those emerald eyes. A sigh escaped parted lips and a wrist cracked as it rolled in its joints.

"Satori!"

"What?" the person hissed irritably, the voice obviously female. The annoyed tone belied a quick wit and painfully sarcastic nature. Grumbling, she nimbly wove her way through the branches of the blossoming shidarezakura, her sketchpad tucked under one arm. She'd shoved the pencil in one of the giant pockets of her black cotton pants, legs rolled up to her knees. The soft leather of her boots thudded onto the yielding earth, new green grass crumpling under her weight. As Satori quickly crossed the small yard, the offended sprouts bounced back into place.

Sliding the well-greased glass door out of her way, Satori's eyes scanned the house for the woman who'd yelled for her.

"Yes?" she called, her voice now serene, and walked through the small living room and into the stylish kitchen. Cooked meat and vegetables, mingled with an assortment of spices made her mouth water. Her stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten since her scant breakfast, nine hours ago.

"I need you to go into town to get me some parsley, along with garlic, if there is any, Satori." Satori cupped her face on her hand as she leaned against the marble countertop and tilted her head.

"Why does being your daughter entitle me to also double as your servant?" she asked lightly, her eyes dancing. Matching eyes looked back at her.

"Because this is my house," the pleasantly plump woman replied, shaking a threateningly sharp cutting knife in Satori's direction. Even at a stout five-foot three-inches, her mother was a formidable person, with her brown hair in a tight bun on top of her head. Her thin lips always seemed to frown at others. Slight wrinkles lined her face, evidence of a laborious life, but light still twinkled in her eyes. "I assume you have money enough for your little task?"

"Yes, ma'am," Satori answered.

"Then shoo." The girl stuck her tongue out childishly before flashing a grin and making her way out the front door. She heard her mother sniff as Satori padded across the hardwood floors with her shoes on. A smile quirked the ends of her lips as she imagined the comments she'd receive for that. 'You're tracking dirt through my clean house, Satori.' Oh, how many times had she been through that reprimand?

The spring breeze blew her white over shirt around her frame. The color made her lightly tanned skin look darker than it actually was. The unbuttoned fabric revealed a lithe torso, covered in a green cami. Satori idly hummed to herself, kicking a rock down the dirt road that lead from the outskirts of town into the heart of the village. Smaller paths lead to the main street, tributaries that traveled to other homes. Identical belts of green lined the worn road before upgrading into trees. A scant flow of people slowly started as she neared the market of the village. As she walked, Satori realized something.

"It's a little quiet," she murmured to herself. Her eyes glanced over at the trees. The normal chatter and chirping of birds was gone, replaced by the scratching of leaves as the wind brushed them against each other. The tapping of her shoes on the hard ground shouldn't be as loud as it was. She furrowed her brow, the wheels in her brain turning with possibilities. Someone called out, yet again, and pulled her away from her thoughts. Yet again.

Satori's feet planted themselves in place as she looked in the direction of the voice. She looked at the voice's carrier, her face curious and eyes suspicious. The man must have been in his mid twenties, with a handsome face. His plain brown hair was shaggy, framing plain brown eyes. He was thin to the point of lanky. Satori mentally sighed.

"Teppei," she acknowledged.

"Hey, babe," he replied with a fake smile, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. He didn't seem to notice when she shrugged it off. "What's a pretty thing like you doing here?"

"Walking," she answered dryly, continuing to do just that.

"Alone?"

"That happens when your mother tells you to buy something." Satori's tone was laced with annoyance, exhaustion, and a definite 'get the hell away from me' inflection. To her surprise, Teppei actually picked up on her mood.

"Aw, why so distant, babe?" he asked, pulling in front of her to block her path. Satori repressed an aggravated growl.

"Because you're getting on my nerves," she said bluntly.

"You know, you've never given me a chance," he continued suggestively, stepping close to her. When she moved to step back, he put a restraining hand in her dark hair. He tilted her head up to make her look at him. His eyes traced over the violet that shone in the sun.

"I might consider once you get it through that thick head of yours that I'm not having sex with you," she hissed in reply. Teppei's expression changed and she could feel his grip on her tighten. Acting on reflex, her fist slammed into the side of his face. Instantly, he let her go and she grabbed his arm, twirling behind him and bending his arm along his spine. "Until then, you keep losing points."

"Why must you play hard-to-get?" he asked, a slight strain in his voice. He didn't know when to quit. She pulled his arm up farther along his back and his face twisted.

"Jack-off," she spat, and placed her booted foot beside his arm, shoving him away from her. She kicked him with enough force to knock the wind from his lungs. As he lay on the ground, trying to suck air back into his system, Satori left before she completely lost her temper with the idiot. The quietness of the village was out of her mind, but she was distracted from her mental ranting. A sound, just a whisper, sounded above her head. She glanced up at an ancient oak tree.

'Must have been the wind,' she reasoned, and kept her stride brisk as she moved into the loosely crowded streets of the market. It didn't take her long to find and purchase the two additives to her mother's cooking, and she lazed about for a few minutes, mingling with the people and catching up on gossip. Eventually, her feet took her away from the village center and along a different route home. Running into Teppei again was not a top priority for her. She tried to ignore some unnamed nagging she felt as she walked home.

"Mom!" she called, halfway through the threshold of the entrance to her house.

"Don't yell!" her mother called back. Satori grinned at her and walked the few feet into the kitchen, setting the paper bag on the counter. "Thank you, dear," she replied, taking the bag for her own. "How was you long and trying trip?" she asked, cutting the parsley into small fragments.

"Excruciating," Satori explained. "I mean, I walked out of the house and then bam, ten ninjas pop out of seemingly nowhere. After I finished battling them, it started pouring down rain. But, I guess that was ok, because it washed all the gore off me. And then the earthquake. My God, did you feel that thing? I was falling all over the place! So, eventually, I managed to clamber my way into the market and almost everyone was injured in some way. So, of course, being the saint that I am, I went and helped most of them out until the paramedics came. I actually got your stuff for free, believe it or not. I saved the shop owners cat from a tree." She sighed dramatically and plopped her head onto her hand. "It was traumatic. I don't know how I'm still on my feet."

"I can tell," her mother replied, suppressing laughter. "I'm not too sure how you're still sane either."

"Really," she agreed. "Oh, and Teppei was being a jerk again."

"Did you punch him in the face?"

"Yes, ma'am,' she answered sheepishly. She sounded like a child who got caught eating ice cream before dinner.

"Good girl." Satori beamed at her. For the next few minutes, the purple haired girl watched as the woman finished cooking their dinner. After a while, her mother wiped her hands on her stark-white apron and walked across the kitchen, two plates in her hands. Her steps were muffled by her clean white socks on the wood floors. Again, Satori's stomach growled as the smell of cooked meat, vegetables, and spices wafted up to her nose.

The plates skidded across the blue-veined marble countertop as a series of explosions shot off around them. Satori fell of the stool she'd been sitting on and her mother slammed onto the other side of the counter.

"The hell was that?!" Satori exclaimed, and jumping up and following her mother outside the house. Smoke hazed their view of the village. An orange glow was growing around the town center, signaling a strong fire. Shock settled over Satori. The explosions had left her shaking, adrenaline pumping through her veins. Why were they bombed? This was a rural village. It dealt with food trade. On top of everything though, she was mostly stunned at the fact that it had only been fifteen minutes since she'd left that same place. All of those people…

"Satori!" her mother yelled. "Go back inside!" Satori stopped, realizing that her mother's voice had called from behind her. When did she get twenty feet in front of the house?

"But-"

"No! Get inside and stay there."

"All those peo-"

"I said no. You're not a hero, Satori. Now, get inside and stay there." She grabbed the girl by the arm and hauled her back into the house. "Stay," she ordered, her voice flat and commanding. The door slammed shut in Satori's face.

"Then why the hell are you still out there?!" she yelled at the wooden blockade. "You aren't a hero anymore, either!" Her green eyes bore into the door as silence answered her. "God damnit." She turned and ran out the back door. She was climbing the tree she had previously been in half an hour ago, perfectly content with the nice spring day. Everything had changed so fast. Her head was still spinning. Within second of reaching the first branch, Satori had launched herself over the six-foot stucco wall that lined the property. Her footing slipped as she hit the dirt and dead leaves, but she kept running.

An arm grabbed her around the waist, keeping her in place. Cold steel pressed against her throat. Satori swallowed heavily, but the pressure of sharp metal against her skin cleared her head swiftly. The arm holding her in place was just as solid as the knife, restricting the movement of her heaving chest.

"Cooperate or die," she was given. The man's voice was deep and steady, but oddly soft. They stayed in place for a few moments that seemed to stretch for days as Satori got her breathing under control. She nodded, instantly regretting it as the weapon dug into her throat. Her captor didn't say anything and she hardly felt him move. Her world blurred for a split second before she was coughing. Smoke burned her throat and eyes, and they watered. The comfortably warm spring air had been replaced with a thick, hot atmosphere. They were at the steps of Town Hall. Satori looked around wide-eyed at the destruction. Somehow, amidst all of the chaos, the building in front of her had managed to stay safe.

The arm around her had retreated to a slight pressure on her back. When she hesitated to move, the man gave her a light push. She consented and walked up the steps to the entrance. She reached the top, and started when a person seemed to flicker into existence in front of her before discussing something briefly with a man. The man's head swathed in white cloth with tinted goggles on his eyes. A black robe flowed around his body, obscuring any build. The collar reached above his chin, obscuring even more of his face as well. Red clouds floated against the ebony background. The person he was talking to, with a strange orange swirled mask over his face, disappeared again. She was lead past him and made a point to avoid looking at the intimidating figure.

These people weren't just terrorists. They were ninjas.

'Fuck.'

Satori leaned against the wall the villagers were lined against. There was an obvious gap between them and their captors. The interlopers either studied the scared group of people or talked amongst themselves. She noticed that only a small handful of people had those sweeping black and red cloaks. The rest wore rag-tag clothes. It had suddenly started pouring rain outside about ten minutes after Satori had been ushered inside the cramped hall. That had been hours ago. She'd yet to see her mother.

To pass the time, Satori had walked amongst the villagers, asking questions, listening to their answers, and giving answers of her own. No one had any idea what was going on. There were rumors that they were going to be sold as slaves; others said that they were going to be forced into some sort of labor. The more imaginative ones were coming up with being used as a standing army, or worse. Satori tried not to let their words reach the slight state a calm she managed to convey to others.

After she'd shared news with everyone she could, she had to content herself with leaning against the back wall, replaying the events in her head. The man who had delivered her to this make-shift corral had disappeared before she'd had a chance to see his face. Idly, she tried to place his voice with anyone whose body seemed to match the low pitch. She'd picked a small amount of people in the time she'd stayed in place. Now, the robed figures, as if by some unheard command, surfaced to the front of the group across her. Each alone could make a person feel comfortable, but all together, a few people started trembling.

A heavy silence descended on the loud room with graceful swiftness. The cry of a child was quickly muffled by its mother's hand. All of the red-and-black adorn figures stared blankly at them, and Satori took in an even breath, willing an irrational sense to run to quiet. No one had made a move. She kept telling herself she was just anxious. With crossed arms, she waited. The door opened and most everyone turned their heads to look. The one with the swirled mask walked in, dripping wet. He shook his head vigorously, a parody of a dog.

"Sorry!" he exclaimed, trotting up to the robed group in front. "I fell asleep."

"Tobi," one of them groaned. He had long blonde hair, part of it pulled on the top of his head in a pony tail. "How many times have I told you that you might want to pay attention to time a little better, un." His voice was irate, as well as deep, but Satori didn't think he was the one who'd found her. "Sasori no Dana was close to sending something to find you." The almost matching name to her own startled her.

"Deidara," someone else growled. "Shut up. You're as bad as him for keeping us waiting."

'Something,' Satori corrected herself. 'No way that… thing is human. It looks like an over-grown spider.'

"Now that we're all here," a voice echoed throughout the room, cutting off a reply the blonde, Deidara, was about to give. He instead shoved the newcomer, Tobi, back into the large crowd of attackers. "Some ground rules." Satori couldn't place where the voice was coming from, but it reverberated throughout her whole body. "My Akatsuki members will pick a servant. Partners will decide which of the houses they're going to live at."

Commotion arose from the larger group. Her eyebrows furrowed when Satori heard the sudden, strangled silence again fall over everyone.

"The rest will be put to work or disposed of." The tension against the wall increased ten-fold. "Everyone else will set up lodgings throughout the village. I will not tolerate any harassment of the villagers or any vandalism of the village itself." This time, Satori raised her eyebrow, looking up at the ceiling like the speaker would be floating there.

'An odd proclamation to make after saying any who aren't of use are going to be killed,' she thought.

"I'll meet with your group leaders later this evening. Dismissed." With that, Satori turned her eyes back to the people in front of her. It both bothered and scared her that her existence was ultimately out of her hands. Granted, she had two out of three chances of being put to use. Her brain was already spinning, coming up with possible outcomes to different situations. She was hoping to be picked for a servant. Forced labor never ended nicely in her ponderings. And she had six chances of getting picked. The Akatsuki members advanced on them slowly.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Green eyes slammed on the tall, robed figure making its way over to her. She wasn't sure what to call the owner of that gravel-y voice. He was enormous, with blue skin, beady eyes, and insanely sharp teeth. The air around him was suffocating and the giant, wrapped sword on his back was only a little disconcerting. "You've got a pretty face." He stopped arms-length from her.

"So I've been told," she mused, defiantly looking him in the eyes. She could already guess what he wanted her for. He opened his mouth to say something. "Nope." A confused look fell on his face, an odd contradiction to his intimidating size.

"I'm sorry?"

"Nope."

"Nope what?'

"Not working for you." He growled at her, but she stood her ground, her arms crossed across her chest insolently.

"You wanna repeat that?"

"Not working for you," she repeated slowly, pronouncing each syllable. The man's palm connected with her face with immense force. Her neck actually popped as her head was thrown to the side. Satori collapsed to her knees and heard someone near her snort in a knowing way. She looked through a curtain of dark hair to see one of the villagers hastily clamping his hand to his mouth. A smirk graced her lips and she tried to ignore the way that small movement made her face throb even worse.

Her assailant's eyes narrowed when she stood up. She put a hand on her hip and leaned against the wall in a bored way.

"Ow," she said, running her other hand through her purple locks. "That hurt," she whined sarcastically. His giant hand wrapped around her throat. 'Ok. Maybe I went a little far,' she thought as the blue man lifted her up off the ground.

"You know," he started, his shark-mouth twisted in a maniacal grin, "it's a pity. You would've made great company." Satori clawed at his arm, trying to stop him from crushing her windpipe. As she started to get lightheaded, she acted on instinct. Her leg shot out, ruthlessly nailing the man in the groin. They both dropped. Gasping for air and coughing, Satori heard a roar of laughter from his fellow organization members.

"She showed you Kisame," Deidara choked out. "Oh, that was hilarious, un." Most of the people had gotten their laughter under control (save Tobi), but when Kisame sent a murderous glare at the blonde, Deidara burst out laughing again.

With her throat raw from hacking, Satori crouched, not trusting her legs to hold her up. Two cold fingers tilted her head up. Garnet stared at emerald, and Satori blinked in surprise. Why did ninjas always have to have odd physical characteristics? It could be rather bothersome. The crimson orbs were set against a gorgeous face, she noted ruefully. Raven locks brushed against her dark purple ones. Lids slowly closed, hiding the jewel eyes before revealing them again.

Satori nodded and stood up. She stumbled forward for a moment, but grabbed a fist-full of black fabric to steady her. She glanced at her new... boss (she refused to call him her 'master'), assessing him there. The first thing that shocked her was how young he looked – not much older than her almost 17 years. She could get no further than that; his own Akatsuki robe concealed the rest of him.

"Itachi," Kisame ground out beside them. Satori cursed herself when she took an automatic step away from the large man. "What're you doing?" he demanded.

"Picking my servant." The boy's voice startled Satori. It was the same deep, smooth tone as the person who'd caught her just an hours ago.

"I refuse to live with that brat," Kisame replied scathingly. Itachi shrugged.

"You can learn. Besides," he continued. "I'm sure she'll make things interesting." A smirk twitched at his lips, not at all bothered by the older, bigger man's sudden death-glare. Several of the Akatsuki members sniggered. Itachi turned in a flourish of red and black cloth, striding out of the large room. Satori resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at Kisame and followed Itachi out into the pouring rain. Before stepping out into the torrent, Itachi pulled a woven straw hat from the folds of his robe and placed it on his head. White strips of fabric shielded his face from her. Satori easily assumed he could care less that she, on the other hand, was getting soaked.

'And now I regret wearing such light clothes,' she thought forlornly. The silence was broken only by the pattering of the rain and their steps sloshing through mud and puddles.

"Ne… Itachi-san," Satori said softly. She'd weighed the possible outcomes of what would happen if she was as rude to him as she was to Kisame. There was a cold calmness of Itachi that put her on guard. She was going to have to be cautious, especially if his temper was as short as the shark-man's. She paused for a split-second, liking the new nickname for him.

But, that didn't mean she was going to let them walk all over her.

"Hn."

"Were you the one who caught me, early today?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Ok. Just wondering." She could easily tell that Itachi didn't want to talk. It was as if he'd clammed up after leaving his companions. They continued down the same road she'd traveled mere hours ago in heavy silence. Satori was distracted by a shape on the ground as they neared her house. The nearer they got, Satori had to accept the fact that not only was the lump a person, but a person she knew. Loose strands of brown had plastered themselves to cold skin because of the rain, and red and brown streaks slashed across a white apron.

Satori's stomach wrenched painfully in her stomach as she smelt the blood that had long stopped leaking from a gaping wound in her mother's stomach. Without breathing, she quickened her stride, pulling ahead of Itachi and up the few front steps to her house. Only then did she shake her head violently, both to clear it and get some of the water off her face.

Itachi's sandal's hollowly clapped up the wooden staircase as she opened the door. Satori left the door open for him and trudged inside, dripping water on the hardwood floor. Walking down the hall on the left side of the living room, she slid open the linen closet and pulled out two towels. She was getting the worst of the drip off her when she stepped back into the living room. Itachi's hat was setting on the kitchen counter, but he was in the living room, holding up a picture frame. The house was dark.

"You like?" she asked and tossed him the extra towel when he glanced up at her. He easily caught it, and she noticed how his robe seemed to swallow him up. He looked more like an omen that an actual human being. She smiled grimly at the thought. "It's of the back yard," she continued, jerking her head to the sliding glass door that covered much of the back wall. Satori knew where each of her drawings were placed throughout the house.

"Hn," he mused quietly and set the framed picture back on the lamp table. It was quiet once more as he dried himself for a bit. "Show me around the place."

"A 'please' would better insure your request," Satori said, raising her eyebrow as she toweled her hair. "Whether or not I'm now your servant means nothing to me. I still expect manners in my house." Itachi looked blankly back at her. Her posture straightened, defiance again written on her face.

"And your words do not concern me. As of now, this whole village belongs to Akatsuki, therefore, not you. In simple terms, this house is no longer yours."

"Well, if this house belongs to you, then you should have plenty of ease figuring out where everything is, should you not?" Itachi glared at her, and she returned it, just as harsh. A smirk passed across her lips.

She didn't blink, but suddenly he was standing in front of her, his crimson gaze locking onto hers. Fear gripped her momentarily as she stepped back and bumped into the wall. His forearm was across her collarbone – if he shifted it just a little, it would press against her windpipe and she'd be choking for air, yet again.

"Listen," he commanded, "this is how it's going to work, since you seem slow to catch on." She narrowed her eyes at the insult. "I will tell you what to do and you will do it without complaint. You will not leave this house without my permission, either. Understand?" Satori glared at him, not bothered by how close he was anymore. "I asked if you underst-"

"And what if I don't agree with your terms, Mr. I Am So Powerful?" The towel dropped to the floor and her breath left her in a rush as his fist connected with her stomach. Her head lurched forward, almost slamming into Itachi's shoulder as her face screwed together in pain. Once again, Itachi lifted her face to his.

'I really need to stop doing that.'

"You get my point?" Satori continued to glare at him as she got her breathing under control again.

"Fine," she snapped and brushed his hand off her chin. She hated herself for giving in, but damn that hurt. She didn't glance back to see if her new house-mate was following her. She'd yet to figure out if the lack of superiority she felt from him made her ego feel a little better or just annoyed her. "Kitchen," she announced childishly, passing across the room and into the hall that opened beside the refrigerator.

"This is the east wing of the house," she said, flicking on the hall light. "There're two bedrooms and one bathroom." She touched each door. "That's an office." She leaned against the end of the hall as Itachi poked his head through each door, looked at the rooms for a few moments, and then re-shut the doors. After shutting the door to the small office, she brushed past him, through the middle of the house again, brushed the switch off as she passed. She stopped to pick up the dropped towel, and before walking down the hall again.

"West wing," she stated. "My room and bathroom are on the left." She went to the second door on the right – the first was the linen closet. "This'll be your room." She stood aside and let him examine the room for himself. It was your typical, run-of-the-mill guest room. The walls were white, the carpet grey, with a full sized bed and matching dresser and desk. She waited a few moments before speaking again.

"I'm going to bed. Good night." There was no politeness in her departure.

"What's down there?" She resisted turning at the sound of his velvety voice, but instead glanced down the hall, were it turned left.

"Laundry room, storage," she said simply and walked into her room.

Satori stripped her clinging clothes off her body after locking her door. After changing into dry cotton shorts and a T-shirt, she brought the sopping articles into the connected bathroom and hung them up to dry. Once back in her room, she laid down and thought about today for the millionth time, it seemed. Her mother was dead. Their tiny, rural village had been taken over by some organization called Akatsuki. She figured it wouldn't be as bad if the world didn't hate her. But no, she had to be put to work in her own house by some bastard ninja. A sudden realization dawned on her.

"I refuse to live with that brat."

Kisame the shark-man was going to be living there as well. She would bet that he was going to raise hell at any time he saw fit, and Satori never bet but a sure thing.

God damnit.

She decided it was time to go to sleep.

And there is Chapter One.

Why is this one the longest again?