Heat and Sun - Chapter 2
This is kind of addictive right now.
Title: Heat and Sun
Fandom: Naruto
Type: Multi-chapter
Rating: PG-13?
Pairings: Deidara / Sakura
Word count: 4,087
Summary: It’s not every day that Sakura gets a mission like this. She could deal with the high heels and half-baked revolution, but a dead man from the past definitely wasn’t in the job description. DeiSaku.
A/N: Ookay, so apparently I can’t stop writing this at the moment. There are a number of small references to things throughout this chapter, the biggest of which is that yes, Sakura is wearing one of Maria Schneider’s outfits from Last Tango in Paris.
Chapter 2 - Gin and Tonic (Better Make It A Double)
Why anyone would ever want to harm such a wonderful place was beyond her, Sakura thought as she drew open the curtains and let the morning light into her new Sun Country flat.
Upon her arrival in the city-state the day before, she’d made her way to her apartment, the address of which had been in the secret documents Tsunade had given her. From the first glance it was obvious that the monarchy had spared no expense when securing her living arrangements. The tall, white building was the same as the others Sakura had seen on her way through the city, but she was impressed all the same.
The obliging landlady seemed to be under the impression that Sakura was an important visitor from one of the colonies, and showed every courtesy as she handed over the keys to the flat. All the furnishings were included, the woman had informed her, and a few days’ supply of food had been provided for her as well. Sakura had thanked her and found herself wondering if she had really signed up for a dangerous mission and not a trip to a resort.
And now, as Sakura turned from the window to survey her apartment, she was even more convinced that this could all be some lavish vacation. Her flat made her feel like she was a posh celebrity or something equally absurd. Everything from the polished hardwood floors to the angular black and white furniture screamed chic. The kitchen was done in what looked like black marble, with a glass-topped dinner table and silver - real silver! - utensils. The walls were decorated with intriguing artwork, and the bedroom was so inviting that Sakura, upon seeing it, had had little choice but to roll herself up in the bed’s duvet and luxuriate in the feeling of the soft material against her skin.
Not to mention, the view from the apartment was something else entirely. Squinting against the bright morning sun, she looked out across the busy street, decorated with colourful boutiques and restaurants. In the distance she could see ornate spires rise up from behind the surrounding rooftops, and wondered if maybe just for today she could ignore her mission and go sightseeing instead.
But as she opened the morning paper as she sat down to breakfast - fruit, tea, and chocolate-covered biscuits - her hopes were dashed the instant she saw the headlines.
‘Mysterious Bank Explosion Leaves Citizens Shaken’ it announced, accompanied by a picture of a large vault with a wide hole blown open in it. Sakura frowned, sipped at her tea, and continued reading:
“Authorities were left scratching their heads this morning when a blast went off in the main branch of the National Bank. The fire brigade was quick to contain the flames, and police soon discovered that not only had no one been injured, but nothing had been stolen.
This is the third such explosion in recent weeks - the other two occurring at wealthy private residences. Reasons for the attacks are unknown, and police urge anyone with information to come forward.
“I can’t believe anyone would do something like this,” reported one frightened teller, who for security reasons asked to remain anonymous. “It’s just so scary, I don’t think I’ll ever feel safe again-“”
Sakura scanned the rest of the article with narrowed eyes. It was the revolutionaries, she thought. It had to be. Attacks of this sort could only be to demonstrate their power. It was an attention grab, a show of force and a humiliation to the authorities who failed to prevent it. With a sigh, Sakura finished her breakfast and realized that she’d have to get started on infiltrating the revolutionary movement as soon as possible.
But how? That would be the hardest part of the mission. She couldn’t exactly stand on a street corner and announce her desire to join an illegal organization in hopes that someone would welcome her with open arms. She had to draw their attention, pretend to be sympathetic to their cause, and somehow gain their trust and access to their inner ranks.
First things first though, she thought as she made her way into her bedroom and threw open the wardrobe doors. She needed to pass as a civilian. This in itself would prove challenging enough.
Scanning through the selection of outfits, she picked out one that Ino had compiled based off an example in a Sun Country magazine. Ino had said the short yellow tunic wasn’t meant to be worn with trousers underneath, but Sakura was skeptical as she slipped the garment over her shoulders and saw that the material barely brushed her mid-thighs. Turning to look at herself in the full-length mirror, she was at least reassured to note that the skimpy outfit covered everything essential. A brown belt cinched around her waist and a pair of heeled leather boots completed the outfit.
There was an oddly fluffy white jacket that Ino had said was meant to be paired with the ensemble, but Sakura concluded that it was far too hot - not to mention ridiculous looking - so she shoved it back into the wardrobe. Then, just because she felt naked without one, she strapped a kunai onto her upper thigh, making sure it was hidden by the dress.
After another few minutes battling with her hair and cosmetics, Sakura gave up, washed her face clean, and jammed a wide-brimmed hat onto her head. There, she thought, frustrated, now no one would have to see her face or her hair. She tried to reason with herself that this would help maintain her cover anyway, but she was still in a foul mood when she left her apartment.
This lifted quickly, however, as the landlady greeted her cheerfully on the landing, busy sweeping the floor, and reminded her that she was free to use one of the building’s bicycles if she’d like - it was so hard to get around the city on foot, the woman said. Sakura thanked her and tried not to giggle. Bicycles. That was so quaint.
Feeling more and more like a tourist, Sakura selected one of the bikes - thoroughly delighted that it had a basket on the front - and after a few tries learned how to ride without causing her embarrassingly short outfit to hike up inappropriately.
Uncertain of where she was going, she followed random streets until she arrived at what appeared to be a main area. The street was lined with the usual ornate white apartments, but the ground levels seemed to consist entirely of cafes. Stashing her bike against the railing of a patio, she wandered up the busy street on foot, overwhelmed by the chatter from the cafes, the smell of coffee and cologne, and the beautiful people. Compared to everyone else she felt underdressed, and now wished that she’d worn the silly white coat anyway.
At first she blushed when men threw her appreciative glances or catcalls, taking refuge under the brim of her hat and wondering if she should take Ino’s advice to ‘sample the local specialties’, but she quickly learned to disregard them once she realized that they did the same thing to every girl who walked by.
Culture shock indeed, she thought, and hurried down a side street in search of calm.
She found it momentarily in front of what she guessed was a church. It was a large, imposing building in old stone, with columns around the entrance and a dome over the top. On one side stood a life-sized statue of what was probably a god, city hero, or whatever, but Sakura didn’t give that much thought - she was too busy at her discovery that it was a very good nude and the realization that it was probably not meant to inspire such inappropriate thoughts seeing as how it was placed outside a church.
Stifling her giggles, she wondered if she could go in. But there was no way she could pass that off as anything but sightseeing, and she really needed to focus on her mission and figure out how to contact the revolutionaries. Increasingly though, she felt like she needed some divine intervention to accomplish this. Sakura had no religious inclinations, but maybe she’d check out the church anyway. Just in case. ‘Dear deity,’ she could imagine herself saying, ‘Please help me join a criminal organization. I would be very grateful. P.S. I like your statue.’
Grinning to herself, Sakura was interrupted from her thoughts by a loud, screechy voice.
“Oh my god, that hat is so last month.”
Feeling the blood rush to her face, Sakura realized with dismay that there were no other people around her wearing hats. Turning, she caught sight of the woman who’d made the comment.
She was tall, made unnaturally so by a pair of extraordinary heels. Her dress flared out around her shoulders, but was then sucked into an impossibly tiny corset. Her iridescent skirt was ripped in what Sakura guessed was supposed to be an artistic manner and - were those peacock feathers in her hair? Sakura was so dazzled by the blinding mix of colours that she could do nothing but gape in astonishment.
“Look at her,” sneered the woman’s friend, clad in similar attire, “She looks like a - like a tourist.”
The word was uttered with such derision that Sakura swallowed uncomfortably. So much for her favourable first impressions of the Sun Country. It might be a gorgeous place, but the people were jerks. She shifted uncertainly, not knowing whether she should insult the women back or go meekly on her way. Taking another glance at them though, their astounding outfits suddenly seemed to Sakura as incredibly tacky and overdone. Clearly they had far too much money if they went for a morning walk sporting something like that.
And with that, the divine intervention she’d hoped for struck.
She’d been given permission to use whatever means necessary to take down the revolutionaries. And as such, these poor, misguided women had just given her the perfect idea to attract their attention.
Sakura smiled pleasantly at the women and, satisfied to see a look of confusion pass across their faces, turned back toward the main street and went to retrieve her bicycle.
++
Deidara was in a good mood. It was a gorgeous day, he had a gin and tonic in one hand, and he’d had a wonderful time blowing up a bank the night before.
He finished his drink, signalled for the waiter to bring him another, and read the front page of the newspaper again. ‘Mysterious Bank Explosion Leaves Citizens Shaken’. It sounded better every time he read it.
This was the third vault he’d destroyed. It had taken a lot of willpower not to take anything from them, but it was necessary. He was getting the attention he needed, and doing it in a ‘civilized’ way. No one harmed, nothing stolen. He hoped it was a clear enough message for the revolutionaries: This is what I can do for you. If he knew one thing about underground organizations, it was that they always needed money. And if they’d let him join, he could get them as much as they wanted.
As the waiter returned with a fresh drink, Deidara concluded that maybe not everything about the Sun Country was unbearable. The sun was warm, the bartender was good, and... As he searched for a third reason, one of the people in the crowd outside the cafe caught his eye.
She was a young woman, around twenty he guessed, and she stood out from the others for a reason he couldn’t identify at first. Her clothing was, as far as Sun Country standards went, fairly plain, and her face was mostly hidden by a wide hat. And yet she somehow managed to catch his eye. There was something about her that was so, so... Inartificial.
That must be it, he decided. She really didn’t fit in with the other Sun Country women, but that was for the best.
Watching her carefully from behind his sunglasses, he wondered what else struck him about her. She seemed almost familiar, but he couldn’t place her. She walked alongside the patio, running her hand along the railing. Deidara couldn’t tell due to the shadow of the hat, but he suspected that she was smiling.
Her good humour was destroyed though, as one of her heeled boots caught on the pavement, sending her stumbling forward. Deidara tried not to laugh too noticeably - anything at the expense of others was always funny - and watched as she recovered quickly, glanced about in embarrassment, and hurriedly picked up a white bicycle from against the fence.
She seemed a bit confused as to how to get on the bike and kept tugging at her short yellow dress. Deidara watched with even more interest as she eventually threw all caution to the wind and just hopped on, revealing a tempting flash of white cotton, a shapely thigh and… a kunai holster?
Deidara raised his sunglasses and squinted after the girl as she pedaled away, almost certain that it had been a trick of the light. Puzzled, he took a sip of his drink and considered what he’d seen. Maybe he was just being paranoid, but his eyes didn’t often fool him like this. Still perplexed, he raised an eyebrow at the pale amber liquid in the glass he held. He was certain he hadn’t had that much to drink.
Now that he thought about it though, despite the girl’s one stumble she’d moved with a grace uncharacteristic of a civilian woman. The certainty in her stride, the elegance and control with which she’d moved spoke of toned muscles under the soft skin. She moved like a dancer, or even…
No, Deidara thought to himself, that’s impossible. Everyone knew the Sun Country didn’t take well to ni-
“Do you mind if I join you?”
Deidara glanced up sharply at the voice that had interrupted his thoughts. The man smiled at him amiably and, without waiting for a reply, sat down in the other chair at the table. Deidara scowled at him and was about to tell him that yes he did mind, but something about the man made him hesitate.
He had straight black hair that, while tied back loosely, fell just past his shoulders. His smile was just wide enough to look silly, and his voice, while smooth, had an odd lilt to it. He looked young enough, but he had the sort of face that made guessing his exact age difficult. His green eyes were half-lidded and gave the impression that he was perpetually tired. And yet, he had a sort of energy and charisma about him that made Deidara pause and refrain from sending him away.
“Is that any good?” the man asked, pointing to Deidara’s drink. Deidara made no reply but that did not deter the man from calling to the waiter to bring him the same thing.
They sat in silence for a moment, Deidara glaring while the man smiled brightly and appeared unconcerned with the other’s evident hostility. When at last the second gin and tonic arrived, the man tipped the waiter generously before turning back to Deidara.
“The name’s Sorel,” he said, and extended a hand. When Deidara only glared harder and made no move to shake hands, the other man took no offence and pretended that he’d simply been reaching for the dessert menu.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” continued Sorel, seemingly content to carry out the entire conversation on his own. “I believe you ran into a, err, business associate of mine a while ago?”
Finally, thought Deidara triumphantly. Seeing Deidara’s glare fade into a slight grin, Sorel became even more encouraged. “I’ve had a look at, err-“ He paused and cast a glance at the newspaper that lay discarded to one side of the table before continuing, “Your resume, and have concluded that you have just the skills we’re looking for. I hope you’re still interested in - how else to say this - employment?”
Deidara nodded, and the man went on, “Oh wonderful! Well, I have to warn you that the pay isn’t very high, but the long-term benefits should be astounding.”
He laughed a little at his own joke, and Deidara got the impression that Sorel had considered it quite clever.
“Well I’m afraid I can’t stay much longer,” continued the man as he glanced at his watch. “Business is rather pressing these days you know. If you’re still interested, the next-the next staff meeting will be in two weeks.” He dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Just come to the corner of Stendhal and St. Charles at around ten p.m. and we’ll send someone to pick you up.”
Then, without having taken a single sip of his drink, he rose, bid Deidara good day, and strolled out of the cafe.
Deidara sat in silence for a moment before downing his drink. Then he reached over and downed the other man’s untouched drink as well. He ordered yet another, and suddenly hoped very dearly that Sorel wasn’t actually the leader of the revolutionary forces.
Maybe they’d sent another underling to deal with him.
Please let him be an underling.
++
Sakura took a long look at the various pieces of jewellery she’d acquired over the past two weeks and had to admit she felt a little guilty. She had been cleared to do whatever she felt necessary and she did only steal from the extravagantly rich, but still.
Picking up a ruby brooch, she thought that perhaps she didn’t feel so bad about that one at least. It had been the first she’d taken, and had belonged to the woman who’d made fun of her hat. Hitting a different household each night, by now Sakura had accumulated quite a collection of valuables. She’d give them back eventually, but for now she needed to build up a reputation. At first she’d considered just breaking into aristocratic houses and not taking anything - similar to the revolutionaries’ own style - but since she wasn’t blowing anything up she knew she’d never make the headlines like that.
So instead she took trinkets that were sure to be missed, but targeted only those who could afford it. Surely her skills would draw the attention of the revolutionaries? Or at least, she should appear to them as interesting competition. She would perform one last break-in that night, and then she would wait a while for them to send her a sign.
Replacing the box of stolen jewellery into the back of her wardrobe, Sakura went through one last set of stretches. She was lucky she’d brought along some of her ninja clothing, she reflected, as cat burglary would have been impossible in anything else.
Confident that this was going to be another easy break-in, Sakura slipped out her bedroom window and climbed onto the roof of the building.
++
It was too easy, Sakura sighed to herself as she popped open the jewellery box with a hair pin. People here just weren’t used to dealing with thieves at her level, she guessed.
Sending a mental apology to the sleeping noblewoman and her husband, Sakura selected a long string of pearls and a set of emerald earrings and tucked them into the pouch on her belt. With that, she crept silently from the room and made her way to a conveniently open window. Balancing on the sill, she closed the window behind her and prepared to make her way home across the rooftops. She jumped from the aristocratic mansion onto a neighbouring building, feeling more relaxed now that the crime had already been committed.
This feeling was short-lived, however, as the moment Sakura’s foot connected with the rooftop, she slipped and was sent tumbling downwards.
Startled by her sudden loss of balance, she grabbed frantically at the shingles, trying to slow her descent. But they felt oddly wet and slimy, and Sakura couldn’t get a grip on anything. She slid downwards until finally, as she was sent flying off the side of the roof, she caught hold of an eaves trough.
Muscles straining, she tried to pull herself back up onto the safety of the roof - it was a long drop to the ground, and one that she didn’t fancy making. Dangling from the side of the building, Sakura held on tight with one hand and felt around experimentally with the other. But the shingles offered no traction, and she came to the startling conclusion that they’d been purposefully covered in something slippery.
“Oh finally,” came a voice from below. “We were starting to worry that we’d never guess your next target right.”
Sakura glanced down and saw that three figures had gathered on the street beneath her. Two of them appeared to be fully grown men, but one was so short that he had to be a child. In the darkness she couldn’t make out their features, but she had a feeling they weren’t the authorities. She looked back up, concentrating on keeping her grip.
“You greased the rooftop?” she asked incredulously. “What’s wrong with you? I almost died!”
“That took us a long time, you know,” said a second voice. This one was high-pitched, almost squeaky. Must be the kid, Sakura thought. “And I thought for sure you’d be a guy. Ladies don’t steal things - that’s so weird.”
“Quiet, Jean,” came a third, hushed voice. It was deep and rough, distinguishing the man from the first one that had spoken.
“No names!” hissed the kid.
“If you don’t mind,” Sakura called down impatiently as her fingers began to ache, “I’d appreciate it if you could get to the point.”
“Of course,” said the first man. His voice was smooth and friendly, as though he hadn’t just almost sent her plummeting to her death. There was a slight hint of something in his voice, and Sakura guessed it was the traces of a fading accent. “It’s unfortunate that we had to resort to such measures, but we hope you won’t think of us too poorly. We placed our trust in your evident skills.”
Sakura said nothing and waited until he continued, “Skills that we need.”
Although it was too dark for the men to see her properly, Sakura tried to hide her smile of success.
“And you’re lucky, really,” added the kid, “That we got to you first and not the thieves’ guild. They’re furious that someone’s been stealing without a permit.”
“Oh,” she said, trying to wrap her mind around this bizarre piece of information. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“No harm done!” called the first voice again, as Sakura mentally cursed herself for apologizing so stupidly. “I’ll try to smooth things over with them. Anyway,” he continued cheerfully, “What we really wanted to talk about was if you’d ever consider a different field of work. We’re currently recruiting for something a bit more... Charitable. But not without excitement, of course.”
“What are you proposing?” she asked in what she hoped was a cautious manner. It was difficult though, because this was all going so perfectly.
“It would take too long to explain right now,” said the man. “But we’ll leave all the information you need right here. You can come get it after we’ve left.” Sakura glanced down and watched as one of the men placed a package on the ground. “If you’re interested,” he continued, “Be at the corner of Jaurès and Comte-Vert tomorrow night around ten.”
“And with that,” he concluded, “We’ll take our leave. I trust you’ll be able to get down from there on your own? We don’t mean to leave you hanging -“ Sakura winced at the bad pun, while the man sounded quite pleased with himself. “-But we really must be off before any of the neighbours wake up.”
“Bye!” said the kid, before he was dragged away by his two companions.
Waiting until she was certain they were gone, Sakura edged her way along the side of the roof until she could drop down to a balcony below. From there, it was only a quick climb down from window to window to reach the ground. She picked up the stack of papers and undid the string that held them together. There wasn’t much moonlight, but if she squinted she could make out the text. ‘Rise of the Proletariat,’ declared the title, ‘What YOU need to know about the next phase in history!’
Sakura grinned.
They’d taken the bait. She was in.
Title: Heat and Sun
Fandom: Naruto
Type: Multi-chapter
Rating: PG-13?
Pairings: Deidara / Sakura
Word count: 4,087
Summary: It’s not every day that Sakura gets a mission like this. She could deal with the high heels and half-baked revolution, but a dead man from the past definitely wasn’t in the job description. DeiSaku.
A/N: Ookay, so apparently I can’t stop writing this at the moment. There are a number of small references to things throughout this chapter, the biggest of which is that yes, Sakura is wearing one of Maria Schneider’s outfits from Last Tango in Paris.
Chapter 2 - Gin and Tonic (Better Make It A Double)
Why anyone would ever want to harm such a wonderful place was beyond her, Sakura thought as she drew open the curtains and let the morning light into her new Sun Country flat.
Upon her arrival in the city-state the day before, she’d made her way to her apartment, the address of which had been in the secret documents Tsunade had given her. From the first glance it was obvious that the monarchy had spared no expense when securing her living arrangements. The tall, white building was the same as the others Sakura had seen on her way through the city, but she was impressed all the same.
The obliging landlady seemed to be under the impression that Sakura was an important visitor from one of the colonies, and showed every courtesy as she handed over the keys to the flat. All the furnishings were included, the woman had informed her, and a few days’ supply of food had been provided for her as well. Sakura had thanked her and found herself wondering if she had really signed up for a dangerous mission and not a trip to a resort.
And now, as Sakura turned from the window to survey her apartment, she was even more convinced that this could all be some lavish vacation. Her flat made her feel like she was a posh celebrity or something equally absurd. Everything from the polished hardwood floors to the angular black and white furniture screamed chic. The kitchen was done in what looked like black marble, with a glass-topped dinner table and silver - real silver! - utensils. The walls were decorated with intriguing artwork, and the bedroom was so inviting that Sakura, upon seeing it, had had little choice but to roll herself up in the bed’s duvet and luxuriate in the feeling of the soft material against her skin.
Not to mention, the view from the apartment was something else entirely. Squinting against the bright morning sun, she looked out across the busy street, decorated with colourful boutiques and restaurants. In the distance she could see ornate spires rise up from behind the surrounding rooftops, and wondered if maybe just for today she could ignore her mission and go sightseeing instead.
But as she opened the morning paper as she sat down to breakfast - fruit, tea, and chocolate-covered biscuits - her hopes were dashed the instant she saw the headlines.
‘Mysterious Bank Explosion Leaves Citizens Shaken’ it announced, accompanied by a picture of a large vault with a wide hole blown open in it. Sakura frowned, sipped at her tea, and continued reading:
“Authorities were left scratching their heads this morning when a blast went off in the main branch of the National Bank. The fire brigade was quick to contain the flames, and police soon discovered that not only had no one been injured, but nothing had been stolen.
This is the third such explosion in recent weeks - the other two occurring at wealthy private residences. Reasons for the attacks are unknown, and police urge anyone with information to come forward.
“I can’t believe anyone would do something like this,” reported one frightened teller, who for security reasons asked to remain anonymous. “It’s just so scary, I don’t think I’ll ever feel safe again-“”
Sakura scanned the rest of the article with narrowed eyes. It was the revolutionaries, she thought. It had to be. Attacks of this sort could only be to demonstrate their power. It was an attention grab, a show of force and a humiliation to the authorities who failed to prevent it. With a sigh, Sakura finished her breakfast and realized that she’d have to get started on infiltrating the revolutionary movement as soon as possible.
But how? That would be the hardest part of the mission. She couldn’t exactly stand on a street corner and announce her desire to join an illegal organization in hopes that someone would welcome her with open arms. She had to draw their attention, pretend to be sympathetic to their cause, and somehow gain their trust and access to their inner ranks.
First things first though, she thought as she made her way into her bedroom and threw open the wardrobe doors. She needed to pass as a civilian. This in itself would prove challenging enough.
Scanning through the selection of outfits, she picked out one that Ino had compiled based off an example in a Sun Country magazine. Ino had said the short yellow tunic wasn’t meant to be worn with trousers underneath, but Sakura was skeptical as she slipped the garment over her shoulders and saw that the material barely brushed her mid-thighs. Turning to look at herself in the full-length mirror, she was at least reassured to note that the skimpy outfit covered everything essential. A brown belt cinched around her waist and a pair of heeled leather boots completed the outfit.
There was an oddly fluffy white jacket that Ino had said was meant to be paired with the ensemble, but Sakura concluded that it was far too hot - not to mention ridiculous looking - so she shoved it back into the wardrobe. Then, just because she felt naked without one, she strapped a kunai onto her upper thigh, making sure it was hidden by the dress.
After another few minutes battling with her hair and cosmetics, Sakura gave up, washed her face clean, and jammed a wide-brimmed hat onto her head. There, she thought, frustrated, now no one would have to see her face or her hair. She tried to reason with herself that this would help maintain her cover anyway, but she was still in a foul mood when she left her apartment.
This lifted quickly, however, as the landlady greeted her cheerfully on the landing, busy sweeping the floor, and reminded her that she was free to use one of the building’s bicycles if she’d like - it was so hard to get around the city on foot, the woman said. Sakura thanked her and tried not to giggle. Bicycles. That was so quaint.
Feeling more and more like a tourist, Sakura selected one of the bikes - thoroughly delighted that it had a basket on the front - and after a few tries learned how to ride without causing her embarrassingly short outfit to hike up inappropriately.
Uncertain of where she was going, she followed random streets until she arrived at what appeared to be a main area. The street was lined with the usual ornate white apartments, but the ground levels seemed to consist entirely of cafes. Stashing her bike against the railing of a patio, she wandered up the busy street on foot, overwhelmed by the chatter from the cafes, the smell of coffee and cologne, and the beautiful people. Compared to everyone else she felt underdressed, and now wished that she’d worn the silly white coat anyway.
At first she blushed when men threw her appreciative glances or catcalls, taking refuge under the brim of her hat and wondering if she should take Ino’s advice to ‘sample the local specialties’, but she quickly learned to disregard them once she realized that they did the same thing to every girl who walked by.
Culture shock indeed, she thought, and hurried down a side street in search of calm.
She found it momentarily in front of what she guessed was a church. It was a large, imposing building in old stone, with columns around the entrance and a dome over the top. On one side stood a life-sized statue of what was probably a god, city hero, or whatever, but Sakura didn’t give that much thought - she was too busy at her discovery that it was a very good nude and the realization that it was probably not meant to inspire such inappropriate thoughts seeing as how it was placed outside a church.
Stifling her giggles, she wondered if she could go in. But there was no way she could pass that off as anything but sightseeing, and she really needed to focus on her mission and figure out how to contact the revolutionaries. Increasingly though, she felt like she needed some divine intervention to accomplish this. Sakura had no religious inclinations, but maybe she’d check out the church anyway. Just in case. ‘Dear deity,’ she could imagine herself saying, ‘Please help me join a criminal organization. I would be very grateful. P.S. I like your statue.’
Grinning to herself, Sakura was interrupted from her thoughts by a loud, screechy voice.
“Oh my god, that hat is so last month.”
Feeling the blood rush to her face, Sakura realized with dismay that there were no other people around her wearing hats. Turning, she caught sight of the woman who’d made the comment.
She was tall, made unnaturally so by a pair of extraordinary heels. Her dress flared out around her shoulders, but was then sucked into an impossibly tiny corset. Her iridescent skirt was ripped in what Sakura guessed was supposed to be an artistic manner and - were those peacock feathers in her hair? Sakura was so dazzled by the blinding mix of colours that she could do nothing but gape in astonishment.
“Look at her,” sneered the woman’s friend, clad in similar attire, “She looks like a - like a tourist.”
The word was uttered with such derision that Sakura swallowed uncomfortably. So much for her favourable first impressions of the Sun Country. It might be a gorgeous place, but the people were jerks. She shifted uncertainly, not knowing whether she should insult the women back or go meekly on her way. Taking another glance at them though, their astounding outfits suddenly seemed to Sakura as incredibly tacky and overdone. Clearly they had far too much money if they went for a morning walk sporting something like that.
And with that, the divine intervention she’d hoped for struck.
She’d been given permission to use whatever means necessary to take down the revolutionaries. And as such, these poor, misguided women had just given her the perfect idea to attract their attention.
Sakura smiled pleasantly at the women and, satisfied to see a look of confusion pass across their faces, turned back toward the main street and went to retrieve her bicycle.
++
Deidara was in a good mood. It was a gorgeous day, he had a gin and tonic in one hand, and he’d had a wonderful time blowing up a bank the night before.
He finished his drink, signalled for the waiter to bring him another, and read the front page of the newspaper again. ‘Mysterious Bank Explosion Leaves Citizens Shaken’. It sounded better every time he read it.
This was the third vault he’d destroyed. It had taken a lot of willpower not to take anything from them, but it was necessary. He was getting the attention he needed, and doing it in a ‘civilized’ way. No one harmed, nothing stolen. He hoped it was a clear enough message for the revolutionaries: This is what I can do for you. If he knew one thing about underground organizations, it was that they always needed money. And if they’d let him join, he could get them as much as they wanted.
As the waiter returned with a fresh drink, Deidara concluded that maybe not everything about the Sun Country was unbearable. The sun was warm, the bartender was good, and... As he searched for a third reason, one of the people in the crowd outside the cafe caught his eye.
She was a young woman, around twenty he guessed, and she stood out from the others for a reason he couldn’t identify at first. Her clothing was, as far as Sun Country standards went, fairly plain, and her face was mostly hidden by a wide hat. And yet she somehow managed to catch his eye. There was something about her that was so, so... Inartificial.
That must be it, he decided. She really didn’t fit in with the other Sun Country women, but that was for the best.
Watching her carefully from behind his sunglasses, he wondered what else struck him about her. She seemed almost familiar, but he couldn’t place her. She walked alongside the patio, running her hand along the railing. Deidara couldn’t tell due to the shadow of the hat, but he suspected that she was smiling.
Her good humour was destroyed though, as one of her heeled boots caught on the pavement, sending her stumbling forward. Deidara tried not to laugh too noticeably - anything at the expense of others was always funny - and watched as she recovered quickly, glanced about in embarrassment, and hurriedly picked up a white bicycle from against the fence.
She seemed a bit confused as to how to get on the bike and kept tugging at her short yellow dress. Deidara watched with even more interest as she eventually threw all caution to the wind and just hopped on, revealing a tempting flash of white cotton, a shapely thigh and… a kunai holster?
Deidara raised his sunglasses and squinted after the girl as she pedaled away, almost certain that it had been a trick of the light. Puzzled, he took a sip of his drink and considered what he’d seen. Maybe he was just being paranoid, but his eyes didn’t often fool him like this. Still perplexed, he raised an eyebrow at the pale amber liquid in the glass he held. He was certain he hadn’t had that much to drink.
Now that he thought about it though, despite the girl’s one stumble she’d moved with a grace uncharacteristic of a civilian woman. The certainty in her stride, the elegance and control with which she’d moved spoke of toned muscles under the soft skin. She moved like a dancer, or even…
No, Deidara thought to himself, that’s impossible. Everyone knew the Sun Country didn’t take well to ni-
“Do you mind if I join you?”
Deidara glanced up sharply at the voice that had interrupted his thoughts. The man smiled at him amiably and, without waiting for a reply, sat down in the other chair at the table. Deidara scowled at him and was about to tell him that yes he did mind, but something about the man made him hesitate.
He had straight black hair that, while tied back loosely, fell just past his shoulders. His smile was just wide enough to look silly, and his voice, while smooth, had an odd lilt to it. He looked young enough, but he had the sort of face that made guessing his exact age difficult. His green eyes were half-lidded and gave the impression that he was perpetually tired. And yet, he had a sort of energy and charisma about him that made Deidara pause and refrain from sending him away.
“Is that any good?” the man asked, pointing to Deidara’s drink. Deidara made no reply but that did not deter the man from calling to the waiter to bring him the same thing.
They sat in silence for a moment, Deidara glaring while the man smiled brightly and appeared unconcerned with the other’s evident hostility. When at last the second gin and tonic arrived, the man tipped the waiter generously before turning back to Deidara.
“The name’s Sorel,” he said, and extended a hand. When Deidara only glared harder and made no move to shake hands, the other man took no offence and pretended that he’d simply been reaching for the dessert menu.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” continued Sorel, seemingly content to carry out the entire conversation on his own. “I believe you ran into a, err, business associate of mine a while ago?”
Finally, thought Deidara triumphantly. Seeing Deidara’s glare fade into a slight grin, Sorel became even more encouraged. “I’ve had a look at, err-“ He paused and cast a glance at the newspaper that lay discarded to one side of the table before continuing, “Your resume, and have concluded that you have just the skills we’re looking for. I hope you’re still interested in - how else to say this - employment?”
Deidara nodded, and the man went on, “Oh wonderful! Well, I have to warn you that the pay isn’t very high, but the long-term benefits should be astounding.”
He laughed a little at his own joke, and Deidara got the impression that Sorel had considered it quite clever.
“Well I’m afraid I can’t stay much longer,” continued the man as he glanced at his watch. “Business is rather pressing these days you know. If you’re still interested, the next-the next staff meeting will be in two weeks.” He dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Just come to the corner of Stendhal and St. Charles at around ten p.m. and we’ll send someone to pick you up.”
Then, without having taken a single sip of his drink, he rose, bid Deidara good day, and strolled out of the cafe.
Deidara sat in silence for a moment before downing his drink. Then he reached over and downed the other man’s untouched drink as well. He ordered yet another, and suddenly hoped very dearly that Sorel wasn’t actually the leader of the revolutionary forces.
Maybe they’d sent another underling to deal with him.
Please let him be an underling.
++
Sakura took a long look at the various pieces of jewellery she’d acquired over the past two weeks and had to admit she felt a little guilty. She had been cleared to do whatever she felt necessary and she did only steal from the extravagantly rich, but still.
Picking up a ruby brooch, she thought that perhaps she didn’t feel so bad about that one at least. It had been the first she’d taken, and had belonged to the woman who’d made fun of her hat. Hitting a different household each night, by now Sakura had accumulated quite a collection of valuables. She’d give them back eventually, but for now she needed to build up a reputation. At first she’d considered just breaking into aristocratic houses and not taking anything - similar to the revolutionaries’ own style - but since she wasn’t blowing anything up she knew she’d never make the headlines like that.
So instead she took trinkets that were sure to be missed, but targeted only those who could afford it. Surely her skills would draw the attention of the revolutionaries? Or at least, she should appear to them as interesting competition. She would perform one last break-in that night, and then she would wait a while for them to send her a sign.
Replacing the box of stolen jewellery into the back of her wardrobe, Sakura went through one last set of stretches. She was lucky she’d brought along some of her ninja clothing, she reflected, as cat burglary would have been impossible in anything else.
Confident that this was going to be another easy break-in, Sakura slipped out her bedroom window and climbed onto the roof of the building.
++
It was too easy, Sakura sighed to herself as she popped open the jewellery box with a hair pin. People here just weren’t used to dealing with thieves at her level, she guessed.
Sending a mental apology to the sleeping noblewoman and her husband, Sakura selected a long string of pearls and a set of emerald earrings and tucked them into the pouch on her belt. With that, she crept silently from the room and made her way to a conveniently open window. Balancing on the sill, she closed the window behind her and prepared to make her way home across the rooftops. She jumped from the aristocratic mansion onto a neighbouring building, feeling more relaxed now that the crime had already been committed.
This feeling was short-lived, however, as the moment Sakura’s foot connected with the rooftop, she slipped and was sent tumbling downwards.
Startled by her sudden loss of balance, she grabbed frantically at the shingles, trying to slow her descent. But they felt oddly wet and slimy, and Sakura couldn’t get a grip on anything. She slid downwards until finally, as she was sent flying off the side of the roof, she caught hold of an eaves trough.
Muscles straining, she tried to pull herself back up onto the safety of the roof - it was a long drop to the ground, and one that she didn’t fancy making. Dangling from the side of the building, Sakura held on tight with one hand and felt around experimentally with the other. But the shingles offered no traction, and she came to the startling conclusion that they’d been purposefully covered in something slippery.
“Oh finally,” came a voice from below. “We were starting to worry that we’d never guess your next target right.”
Sakura glanced down and saw that three figures had gathered on the street beneath her. Two of them appeared to be fully grown men, but one was so short that he had to be a child. In the darkness she couldn’t make out their features, but she had a feeling they weren’t the authorities. She looked back up, concentrating on keeping her grip.
“You greased the rooftop?” she asked incredulously. “What’s wrong with you? I almost died!”
“That took us a long time, you know,” said a second voice. This one was high-pitched, almost squeaky. Must be the kid, Sakura thought. “And I thought for sure you’d be a guy. Ladies don’t steal things - that’s so weird.”
“Quiet, Jean,” came a third, hushed voice. It was deep and rough, distinguishing the man from the first one that had spoken.
“No names!” hissed the kid.
“If you don’t mind,” Sakura called down impatiently as her fingers began to ache, “I’d appreciate it if you could get to the point.”
“Of course,” said the first man. His voice was smooth and friendly, as though he hadn’t just almost sent her plummeting to her death. There was a slight hint of something in his voice, and Sakura guessed it was the traces of a fading accent. “It’s unfortunate that we had to resort to such measures, but we hope you won’t think of us too poorly. We placed our trust in your evident skills.”
Sakura said nothing and waited until he continued, “Skills that we need.”
Although it was too dark for the men to see her properly, Sakura tried to hide her smile of success.
“And you’re lucky, really,” added the kid, “That we got to you first and not the thieves’ guild. They’re furious that someone’s been stealing without a permit.”
“Oh,” she said, trying to wrap her mind around this bizarre piece of information. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“No harm done!” called the first voice again, as Sakura mentally cursed herself for apologizing so stupidly. “I’ll try to smooth things over with them. Anyway,” he continued cheerfully, “What we really wanted to talk about was if you’d ever consider a different field of work. We’re currently recruiting for something a bit more... Charitable. But not without excitement, of course.”
“What are you proposing?” she asked in what she hoped was a cautious manner. It was difficult though, because this was all going so perfectly.
“It would take too long to explain right now,” said the man. “But we’ll leave all the information you need right here. You can come get it after we’ve left.” Sakura glanced down and watched as one of the men placed a package on the ground. “If you’re interested,” he continued, “Be at the corner of Jaurès and Comte-Vert tomorrow night around ten.”
“And with that,” he concluded, “We’ll take our leave. I trust you’ll be able to get down from there on your own? We don’t mean to leave you hanging -“ Sakura winced at the bad pun, while the man sounded quite pleased with himself. “-But we really must be off before any of the neighbours wake up.”
“Bye!” said the kid, before he was dragged away by his two companions.
Waiting until she was certain they were gone, Sakura edged her way along the side of the roof until she could drop down to a balcony below. From there, it was only a quick climb down from window to window to reach the ground. She picked up the stack of papers and undid the string that held them together. There wasn’t much moonlight, but if she squinted she could make out the text. ‘Rise of the Proletariat,’ declared the title, ‘What YOU need to know about the next phase in history!’
Sakura grinned.
They’d taken the bait. She was in.