elevate [itachi x sakura]

15. Fan Girls, Except They're Boys

Itachi always knew Sakura had admirers. It was common sense, and the first thing he noticed when she'd settled in to Ame. It was hard not to, anyway, when her fans lingered around every corner and wore such blindingly bright t-shirts and green paddles like she was some idol or something.

And Sakura knew them all by name and circumstance, having treated them at some point or aided them somehow. Many were just people she'd become acquainted with on the side of the road. Each to their own — they all had their reasons as to why they considered Sakura so significant that they needed to worship her daily.

"Sakura-chan, please visit my store again when you can," said one sheepishly, "Next time, try the Love-Love Sakura Hot Pot! I promise you won't be disappointed, and I would never charge you. Y-you can even bring your friend, too!"

Unlike her gennin team, the gang of Sakura fan girls— except they were boys — were very immune to Itachi's silent intimidation and blood lust. They were terrified shitless but their love for her was so strong that they could withstand anything.

Itachi grimaced— as if he'd let his wife eat something called a Love-Love Sakura Hot Pot. And he wasn't her friend, they knew that all too well.

But she laughed airily and bowed her head politely. "Of course, Utake-san, I'd love to try your food again." Which irked Itachi a wee bit.

He never doubted his woman's fidelity, however pettiness was an Uchiha trait that ran thick in his veins and he hated to see absurd men like this approach her.

"Sakura-chan! Here— I made you chocolates filled with my hard work and love!"

"Sakura-chan, you're so kind."

"Sakura-chan, thank you for visiting my grandmother the other day. S-she hopes to see you again soon."

"Sakura-chan, please marry me!"

"Sakura-chan, I love you!"

"Sakura-chan, please sign this. You're my little sister's hero! She wants to be just like you when she grows up!"

Sakura only listened to them intently and with sincerity, greeting each one by name and giving them a response. She never once accepted their confessions or food or offers of vouchers or gifts, insisting they keep it for themselves.

They were often crushed by her unwillingness to receive but didn't give up. They were the Sakura Life! Club after all.

"All right, all right! Give Sakura-chan some space!" In barged a large man with thick brows and even thicker glasses. He wore a white bandana around his forehead and his shirt was slightly different from everyone's with a giant — taichou on the back.

He was the leader of this awful tasteless club.

"Please forgive me everyone, I must be going," apologised Sakura with a slight bow of her head. "Itachi and I have a lunch reservation since it's our only day off together in a long time."

The forlorn and defeated looks they wore were terrific. Itachi slid his hand into Sakura's hand and squeezed, pulling her closer to his side. He hated days like this when they managed to corner Sakura like this.

Curiously, Sakura glanced down at their hands and then up at Itachi's face.

"I'm really sorry about this, Sakura-chan," grumbled the club captain. "We didn't know that you had such an important event to attend." As if he were any better.

"As expected of Sakura-chan!" Cheered the crowd.

Sakura shook her head, "It's okay, Daisuke-kun. Anyway, I really should be going. Tell your okaa-san I'll visit her again soon."

Daisuke nodded, somehow feeling more important than everyone else, and went pink in the face. His mother was a patient with dementia, and she and Daisuke had fled village wars about a decade ago.

Each time Sakura visited, it was always the same— "Oh, Sakura-chan! Nice to see you again! Has my Daisuke-chan married you yet?"

And the answer being — "No, Sumi-san, I'm already married, remember?"

"Oh please! A woman can take another husband, no problem no problem!" she laughed, waving her frail hand in the air.

Itachi huffed once they were clear from Sakura's fan club, holding her hand a little more firmer than before. She giggled upon realising he was grumpy and poked his cheek.

"What's wrong, anata?" she teased, battering her eyelashes at him.

"Nothing at all," he said.

She wasn't convinced.

"You look a bit tense."

"Do I?"

She pinched his butt and he sent her a look.

"Yep. Were you jealous?"

"No."

She raised her eyebrows, accusingly. She was really taking the piss out of him, wasn't she?

"Jealous? Me? That's funny."