moor

(BR)

When Sakura heard the knock at her suite’s door, she assumed it was the housekeeping division sending up the spare toothbrush she’d requested when she realised she’d forgotten hers at home.

“Come on in! I’m just in the back—you can leave it on the front counter there, thank you!” she called over her shoulder, not really looking at the guest.

Her back snapped straight at the velvet tone that replied.

“Inviting strange men into your room already? What kind of example is that for the children?”

Boy, when she was wrong, was she ever wrong.

Closing her eyes and taking a breath, she counted to five in an attempt at keeping her composure.

“Touch anything and you die horribly,” she called pleasantly, and was inwardly proud of how calm she sounded. She closed her suitcase and left it on the bed, determined not to let the man in her suite’s living room continue unsupervised for any period of time.

“Is that anyway to treat an old friend?” he asked from far too close to her.

He’d moved so quickly and quietly she hadn’t even heard him reach her room—but there he was, leaning arrogantly against the doorframe that led into her bedroom, like he owned it.

Sakura noticed his lips twitch, realised she must be telegraphing her frustration and that it amused him. That wouldn’t do—she couldn’t risk him getting any kind of advantage or… ideas.

So with a saccharine smile, she tilted her head and murmured sweetly in agreement, “Absolutely not!”

His lips pulled wider into a full grin at her retort, his eyes sparkling with interest.

“I’ve missed you too, Sakura.”

“I doubt you miss anything but your own reflection,” she said flippantly, and crossed her arms in front of her, fake-smile still in place. “Get to the point—what do you want?”

“You wound me, and I’ll savour that later. For now, I have come to drop off your camp uniform.”

“I brought my own clothes, thank you.”

His grin turned sharper, and Sakura’s heart sank into her stomach.

“Oh, but everyone needs to wear a uniform at camp. Even the counsellors,” he added cheerfully, and extended a small shopping back to her.

A very small shopping bag.

Sakura resolved to dig out her night-time bite-plate as soon as the aggravating man left her quarters; she could already feel her teeth grinding together at his taunting.

Against her better judgement, the rose-haired young woman accepted the ‘uniform’ reluctantly. She would deal with it later. Her main goal was to get him out of her living space as soon as humanly possible. Inhumanly wasn’t entirely out of the question, either, since she was half-sure the man across from her was demon-spawn. His wild, jet-black hair was down loose that evening, and his eyes glinted with their usual strange, reddish hue, common traits of most of his family members, and they only served to highlight his devilish character.

“According to my schedule, I don’t need to see you again until breakfast tomorrow morning with the campers,” she said, still fake-smiling. “Let’s not ruin the magic of that special moment by using up all our pleasant conversation prematurely. Goodbye.”

She started to move forward, to force him from her living space, and he let her push him bodily out of the way. He bumped along backwards contently, and Sakura knew he was only complying because he wanted to. Stubborn, infuriating man…

“A pleasure, as always, Sakura darling,” he purred with a knowing arch to his brow. She could only see one of his eyes, as per usual, but it was quite expressive in that moment.

She felt something tighten in her lower belly in warning as he suddenly stopped and simply stared down at her from his height advantage. Why he had been fascinated by her, she would never know, but she knew the Uchihas were a tenacious bunch and he was the worst of the lot—being the center of their attention, of their entire focus, was unnerving for most.

But being the object of outright obsession for this particular man was going to be the death of her sanity. And she still had no idea how she’d garnered such infamy.

Her fingers dug into the wood of the suite door as she held it open for him, clearly indicating it was time for him to leave.

“Rot in Hell, Madara,”she said sweetly, bidding him goodnight.

Of course, his expression turned hungry as it always did when she back-talked him (she would never understand the strange man), and she felt her hackles rising in response.

He noticed. He had to have noticed, because next he chuckled as he swivelled on his heel and sashayed cheerfully away.

Another shudder shimmied down Sakura’s spine as she shut the door. (And double, then triple-checked the lock.)

It was going to be a Very. Long. Week.

(BR)

Sakura glanced up at the pair of dark-haired males who leaned against the hallway corridor across from her doorway, a little surprised but mostly curious.

“Are you my back-up or his?” she asked wryly after a moment of them exchanging stares, resting her hands lightly on her hips.

Shisui grinned at Itachi, whose lips also quirked a fraction, before they shook their heads.

“Sasuke suggested it would be in everyone’s best interests if you had a bit of a buffer, that’s all. We’re here to assist on behalf of the whole Clan,” said Itachi in his usual calm way.

“What he means is, we came to enjoy your company over his whiny brother’s,” mock-whispered Shisui as he stepped forward with arms wide. “Now come give us a hug, it’s been too long.”

Shaking her own head at the elder Uchiha’s antics, Sakura couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face as they gave each other a quick, informal hug. “If your hands go lower than my waist, I will lay waste to you, Uchiha Shisui.”

“Still a sweet-talker, I see,” he teased back. “Careful, some men take that kind of promised punishment as a turn-on.”

“Oh, don’t tell me that’s hereditary in your family,” she groaned, letting him go with a quick pat on the shoulders. She next turned to Itachi, and with a knowing tilt to her smile she inflicted a bit of comfort and adoration on him, too.

Itachi suffered the onslaught with his usual easy grace, and for once actually returned her warmth, if conservatively.

“It is good to see you two,” she said honestly as they started down the hall towards the cafeteria. “And it’s good to know I’m not the only one who isn’t wearing a uniform, at least for breakfast.”

“Uniform?” Itachi looked at her a second.

“Yes, Madara delivered a uniform to me last night and said I had to wear it, but I want to make sure housekeeping washes it first… I have no idea what he could have done with it while it was in his possession,” she admitted with awkwardsauce dripping from her words, and another uncomfortable shudder down her spine. “They said they’d bring it back to me just after 8:00 a.m.”

“We’re happy to provide you with a personalised fashion critique post-breakfast, then,” Shisui rubbed his hands together enthusiastically. “So what was the uniform comprised of?”

“I haven’t looked at it, honestly; I just took called the concierge and he sent someone to collect it right away last night.”

“That’s very quick service,” remarked Itachi, holding open the elevator for Sakura to lead them out.

“It may have had something to do with me mentioning I was concerned there may have been some kind of contamination risk, and that a hazardous materials-scale sanitization may be required.”

They chuckled together as they reached the entrance to the private dining room the resort had partitioned off for the camp that week.

“So glad my life partner could make it!” called a charming male voice from across the room.

“Careful Shisui, he’s got his eye on you,” mumbled Sakura, not bothering to hide her cheeky amusement.

“Hello, darling, I’ve missed you, too!” called Shisui, and they all laughed as Madara’s face sagged overdramatically at the males’ entrance. All around them children sat in groups with peers of similar age, and nearly everyone had turned to gawk at the celebrity-like adults who’d just walked through the door. Sakura and Shisui smiled openly at the youngsters, while even Itachi put on his ‘patient and kind’ big-brother expression. It was one that she was familiar enough with after growing up at one of Sasuke’s best friends, and she saw it already working its quiet magic on the crowd.

If Sakura had looked at it objectively, she may have realised they probably did look like movie stars, what with their confidence and good looks—especially those of the renowned Uchihas.

“Sakura, you’re keeping terrible company. It’s a good thing I’ve saved you a seat, to stave off the riff-raff,” sniffed Madara as he shooed his nephews away, much to the surrounding children’s amusement.

(AN: still playing with this -- I can't find my groove w/ it, but it's at least relaxing/distracting me a bit)