Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I don't even own my socks… O.O

Author's Note: W00t, second chappie in a day!!! New record for me, huh? Anyway… I'M SWITCHING THE POV SO DON'T FREAK OUT. Just thought I'd let you know. I'm more comfortable with first person POV, so there. Please review if you read. I like to know what different people think and why.

Story Summary: When the Akatsuki gets wind of an unrivaled assassin, Itachi and Kisame are to capture them. When an assassin is told to spy on the Akatsuki, she prepares for the worst. What neither party realized was how much of a family they would become. ItaOC R&R

Chapter 1

Don't Resist

I shifted in the shadow of the roof's eaves. The sun was setting, casting its light far too close for comfort. I sank lower in the shadows, narrowing my eyes against the glare.

"Come on, one game?"

I listened to the men inside the room of the building opposite me. They couldn't see me, I knew, but I moved closer to the cool stucco of the inn I was perched on. It was all about stealth, efficiency. I had to be perfect, like a ghost or a breath of wind.

There were six men, four of whom were jounin from Kumogakure. The other two, I didn't know much about. I was never told who my targets were or what they did. I was just supposed to end them forever.

I supposed they were some sort of nobles. Both were middle-aged and rather overweight. My eyes absentmindedly drifted to the street, where an orphan was running away from a vendor, a loaf of bread in his hands.

Turning my attention back to my targets, I began to decide the best course of action. Take out the targets first or their guards? The nobles would try to run, or they would at least scream if I took out the ninjas first. But if I killed the two men first, I would have less time to defend myself against the enemy ninjas.

I rubbed my forehead in frustration, absentmindedly running my hand down the thick, red scar on the left side of my temple. Its texture was rough, and slightly elevated from the rest of my skin. The scar extended from my temple, turned ragged from my chin to my collarbone, then continued down across my chest to my right side where it stopped at my right hip. It was an ugly, noticeable thing and it still burned every once in a while.

I snapped out of my reverie when the sun set completely. It would be time very soon.

Get in, clean up, get out…

The mantra began reciting itself in my head. Everyday, every night, every mission. Always and forever those words had engrained themselves in my head. They were as old and thick and ugly as the scar that marred my body like a brand.

My blue and purple eyes flashed. One of the ninjas was looking outside the window, obviously checking for something. Or someone. Or me.

My clothes were inconspicuous and dark, blending in with the shadow. A fishnet shirt with a low v-neck black shirt over it, skin-tight black pants, black boots with open toes, and a black ankle-length cloak with a hood to hid my eyes and hair. It was my customary outfit for assassinations. They masked my features, my age, and even my gender.

All six men in the room were playing cards now. It was time. I had to be fast, agile, silent, and efficient. There could be no mistakes this time. There could be no mess and barely even a struggle.

I had to be perfect, because tonight was the night that I would start my toughest mission ever. It would take me years, no doubt, but I had time. My time was not my own, after all.

No, tonight the Akatsuki would come for me. I was not supposed to know about it, however. They would come for me after they evaluated my performance on this mission, I was told. They would come and try to take me by force, testing me further. If they were satisfied, they would bring me into their depths. If they were not pleased, however…

I leapt silently from my perch to the ground. Running quickly, I reached the side of the building where my targets resided. I ran up the wall, emitting chakra from my feet at a low but steady rate.

The window was open. I darted in with the whole of my agility and began the slaughter. Two of the ninjas were down before anyone had registered what was going on, one with a snapped neck and the other from a hard blow to the head. The other two ninjas, now aware of my presence, were preparing themselves for my attack.

Leaping onto the table and in front of one of them, I thrust a kunai knife into his heart. I pulled him in front of me, using his corpse as a shield against an onslaught of shuriken. The body fell limp, unmoving.

I was already upon the last of the jounin, knocking him to the ground. Before he could react, I thrust another kunai into his throat, pinning him to the ground. I didn't bother to watch his life drain away as I got up quickly.

I turned to my real targets, unsheathing my katana. They were clutching each other, shivering in fear. Neither of them had made a break for it. They were probably too fat. Or too scared.

My blade flashed. One of the men, the younger one, fell, his throat slit. The other man's eyes widened in horror. He had realized that he was the only one left.

He held his arms in front of him, as if to shield himself. I found it pathetic. He was crying silently and shaking uncontrollably. The sight of this disgusted me. This man disgusted me.

"P-Please! I-I-I'll do a-anything. Please s-spare me!"

I don't know why, but this made me dislike him all the more. He should've been standing up, prepared to die like the guards that had sworn to protect him. If he had been any sort of man, he would have tried to stand up.

"Please, I-I'll give you anything you w-want! N-name your price and y-you can have it!!! Just spare me, p-please…"

I don't know why I stopped. I don't know why I decided to give him a moment more of life. But I did.

I closed my left eye, my purple eye, and peered at him with my blue one. I peered into his past, his memories, his deeds. It took only a moment for me to go from detesting him to reviling him. A memory of a thin child running down a street with a small loaf of bread flashed through my mind. Without a word, I swung my sword.

A moment later, a head fell to the floor.

I sighed, relaxing slightly, letting the wave of animosity ride over like a wave. He had been a womanizer, a greedy tax collector, even an indirect murderer. His past still burned my eye.

I reached into the pocket of my cloak and grabbed a scroll. Sitting down on my knees, I spread it out, bit my thumb, smeared the blood over the paper, and performed the necessary hand signs.

I watched as the bodies and blood disappeared. When I was sure that every last bit of evidence was gone, I rolled up the scroll. Using the still-lit candle I had knocked from the table, I burned the scroll.

What a pathetic way to die.

I cleaned my sword and looked around. Normally, I would leave right after I had completed my assignment. Tonight, however, I had to wait. I sighed, making sure to pick up my fallen kunai and clean them on my cloak as well.

All of a sudden, I heard something behind me. Only my speed saved me as I leapt out of the way of what looked like a sword. It was covered in bandages, but the parts that weren't covered looked suspiciously like sharp scales.

I was on my feet again, my hands full of kunai. If this was a test of brute strength, chakra, or endurance, I knew I'd lose. Though I was fast and very agile, I had very low strength and even chakra levels. I could run for very long, but if I was fighting I wouldn't be able to.

The man turned to face me. He was huge. Dressed in a black cloak with red clouds, he nearly touched the ceiling. I could feel the amount of chakra from him practically radiating off the walls. This man was no pushover.

I was facing him, ready. That's when it hit me. The one bit of information I had been given on the Akatsuki, and it had slipped my mind!

They worked in pairs.

I was knocked off my feet sharply, then pulled up again and slammed into the wall. My breath zoomed out as my captor turned me to face the wall, gripping my arms painfully behind my back. I cursed myself mentally for my lack of attention and preparation.

I turned my head to get a better look at the man behind me. Smaller than the first one, but still much taller than me. I couldn't get a good look at his face, which irritated me.

Lips were near my ear then. His breath was hot, but his touch was cold. The combination made me shiver.

"Hello, Yamashina Yuiko," came a soft, deadly voice.

I froze. My attempts to free myself ceased almost immediately. Something about that voice transfixed me. It didn't strike me as odd that the Akatsuki had gotten my name.

The man spoke again, his voice almost seductive. "The Akatsuki had taken note of your prowess."

And that was all he said before I felt something impact with my head. Then I heard nothing.