Title: Coconut Shampoo
Pairing: Uchiha Itachi and Haruno Sakura
Summary: A paralyzed and nekkid Itachi. Sakura has to bathe him. Not. Cool.
Theme: 47. soap suds (bubble)
Word Count: 2257
Beta: xx. false - deception
Warning: This is pretty plotless shit. Haha.
This was written for my 50_shinobi challenge on LJ.
It could be considered a normal day. Well, as normal as days got, anyway.
Sakura was working her shift in the hospital when he was sent in, ANBU outfit and all. And, just like another day, the other female nurses and doctors melted into piles of lovesick goo. It was kind of gross.
There was only so much that could be done when Uchiha Itachi was around.
So, as usual, she took him into her care—since she was the only one who could—on a bed on wheels with an IV attached to his arm. She flipped through the report, clicking her tongue in the process.
Paralyzed from the forearms down. Well. On one hand, it was strange for the infamous older Uchiha to be injured, but he had it coming for him, really, being an ANBU squad captain and having bad karma following him around like the plague.
"Itachi-san," she said calmly, the way she did for any other patient. "As you may have noticed, you are paralyzed."
She thought she heard a faint snort. "That much is apparent."
Yeah. All of that bad karma that accumulated as he continued through life. She was surprised he wasn't dead, yet.
She inhaled deeply, attempting to rid herself of the anger that she knew was coming, the way she often did when Sasuke was being extra sarcastic. If she caused him any damage, she would be the one healing it—and, honestly, he wasn't worth it.
"I'm going to be performing a very delicate operation," she explained to him, "that includes the reconnecting of your nerve cells to your spinal cord. You're not in any critical state, so you may postpone the surgery to another time, if you wouldn't like to perform it immediately."
She thoroughly enjoyed the fact that he couldn't move at all. It was great.
He seemed to be thinking for a short moment. Finally, he said carefully, "I do not mind performing the operation now, if it fits with your schedule."
"Now?" After tapping the end of her pen against her chin, she nodded. "That's alright with me." And, with that, she began constructing a procedure for him in her mind. "First, you'll have to clean up."
He questioned her with a look. A shiver made its way down her spine at how dark and blank his eyes were.
"Clean up," she repeated. "Itachi-san, you're filthy," It wasn't mandatory to be clean during this particular operation, since no lacerations were going to be made, but it was a rule she went by. It made the doctor and patient all the more comfortable. Sanitation was a must.
He raised an eyebrow. "Is there a problem with that?"
God, he was still just as infuriating when immobile. His resemblance with Sasuke was amazing.
"Of course!" She scoffed, and took a clean towel and other spare toiletries from the nearby cupboard. "Sanitation in the hospital is of the utmost importance. I'll send for a nurse to clean you right away—"
"I do not appreciate being harassed by females who cannot perform their jobs properly."
It wasn't even a matter of being embarrassed that his dangly bits would be seen by the opposite gender—it was a matter of being harassed by said opposite gender. All Uchihas were like that, with their over-inflated ego. It was so frustrating.
"There are a small number of mature nurses," she said lightly, thinking of calling Shizune, if she was free. God, she needed a painkiller.
Making some room on his bedside table, Sakura went through the list in her mind. Towel, soap, shampoo…
Did he use conditioner?
"Why don't you bathe me? Of course, I am only assuming that your schedule is free." She hadn't even considered being the one to clean him. "After all, you are free enough for my operation." She was the apprentice of the Hokage. She didn't bathe people—let alone an Uchiha. She would never be able to look at Sasuke the same way again.
"I'm sure a lot of unnecessary pain could be avoided if we found a nurse for you."
For good measure, she placed a small bottle of conditioner beside the shampoo. When she glanced at Itachi, he was in the same position as he had been when she last saw him—of course he would be; he was paralyzed—with his arms hung limp at his sides as he propped up in bed.
"I would not feel any pain from being washed by a mere medic." She could just hear the smirk in his voice. "Given, of course, that said medic did not have a thin patience."
Sakura straightened up and sniffed a little, indignant. "Well—"
"It would be the most convenient."
There was a long pause, and Sakura weighed the pros and cons. Bathing Uchiha Itachi—lethal shinobi, socially awkward hottie—or a coffee and a ten minute break?
She'd choose the break any day.
But she was a doctor. She was Haruno Sakura. And, when those two entities mixed together, she was going to tie her hair back and get her hands wet. There wasn't going to be a day when she displeased a patient, if she could help it.
"Fine. You win. I'll go get a wheelchair—just a moment, please."
Seriously, though, this was going to be hell. She could just imagine what Sasuke was going to do once she declared, "Hey, I saw your brother naked today!" at their Team Seven dinner tonight.
When she returned, she could feel Itachi's eyes on her, hard and intent. As if she wasn't under enough pressure.
"Let me just help you out of bed…" Pulling the sheets off of him, she found Uchiha Itachi clad in a hospital gown, limp. To be honest, she was completely surprised that the nerves that were connected to his lunges weren't cut off as well. He would've died of suffocation, and, maybe, she wouldn't have to deal with him right now.
Okay, that was a terrible thought, Sakura. Take it back.
One of her arms slipped under the joints of his legs, and the other under his back. She lifted the man up effortlessly and placed him in the wheelchair, ignoring the minor scratches and dried dirt on his pale skin.
She swallowed as she made their way down the hall. She was being eyed by envious nurses, as always—seriously, didn't they have other things to do?—and by the time they arrived at the bathroom, she was ready to faint.
Uchiha Itachi. Naked. Naked!
Okay. She could do this. All she had to do was not look down. Too much.
Run the water. Check. Warm up the water. Check. Toiletries present? Check. She was good to go.
"I'm, uh…I'm removing your gown now," she said awkwardly as she slid the thin garment off of his body and tossed it onto the counter. "I'm lifting you off the wheelchair…"
"Sakura-san, calm down. I am aware of your actions. You do not need to narrate everything to me." She blushed furiously at this comment, trying her best not to look in that direction while placing him in the water—
Oh, shit. She looked.
If Plan A fails, go to Plan B. Instead of not looking, she shouldn't stare.
"I swear to God, I didn't mean it," she muttered to herself more than to him. He didn't respond—and, thank God he didn't.
She began rubbing his body with soap, and all was going well until he suddenly said her name, nearly causing her to scream. Hadn't he learned not to scare people like that? At least give some warning!
"Would you mind brushing my hair out of my face?"
Well, it's your fault for having such long hair, isn't it? she was tempted to snap. Bringing a hand up to his face, she tucked that lock of hair behind his ear, leaving a faint trail of soapy water across his cheek in the process. Every moment, every second seemed to be ticking by slower and slower.
It was blissfully silent for a few minutes, and just when she began working the shampoo into his hair, he just had to make her uncomfortable again.
"Is this shampoo coconut-scented?"
"And what of it?" she asked lightly, trying not to care about what he was saying too much. He was only Uchiha Itachi—his opinion didn't matter too much.
"It's different," he replied with equal nonchalance. "I've never used coconut shampoo before. Might I note that, although I have no problem with it, there are a fair number of people who do not enjoy the scent or taste of coconut. Perhaps you should switch to a more standard shampoo."
Well, she wasn't the one who chose what shampoo the hospital used. It was probably Ino.
"The water is also growing cold. Would you mind?"
"Not at all." Her voice was low and somewhat sarcastic. "Princess," she added under her breath, just to spite him, because she knew he could hear her—he just couldn't do anything about it.
"I think you should reconsider that, seeing that you're the one with the pink hair."
Oh, can it. Uchiha Itachi's opinions always mattered.
She rinsed his hair with a stubborn silence lingering in the air, tempted to just spray his face with water and see how he liked it.
"Are you going to use conditioner?"
To hell with conditioner! He was in the hospital right now—he didn't need conditioner to reconnect his nerves. He could condition his hair all he wanted after the operation—like hell she was going to do it for him.
"No," she replied curtly.
"Why not? The bottle is right there."
"I don't feel like it. Is that good enough a reason?" He didn't look fazed by her retort at all. He was just like Sasuke. Ugh.
A smirk spread across his lips. "I see your patience thins rather quickly."
She found it rather difficult to stay frustrated at him for the same reason, when he was nude and completely helpless in front of her. To top it off, his hair was untied, splayed all over his shoulders, and he was wet.
"Screw. You," she managed to force out through her gritted teeth. "Seriously."
"For my health and yours, I do believe you need to calm down. I fear for my mobility if we begin the operation with your temper like that."
Okay. That was the end of the line. Scowling, she stood up and wiped her hands on his towel, before stalking right out of the bathroom, cold water be damned. He could get sick, for all she cared.
She didn't even make it halfway down the hallway towards the cafeteria before she bumped into someone she honestly didn't want to see at the moment
The younger Uchiha quirked an eyebrow. "Sakura," he said in greeting. "Where is my brother? I checked his room, but it's empty. Is he in his operation right now?"
"Nothing." With that, she turned on her heels and raced straight back to the bathroom, where Uchiha Itachi sat in the exact same position in which she left him in.
Okay. She needed a Plan B. Pronto.
"Are you feeling better?" If not for the situation, the image of Itachi sitting motionless in a bathtub with that serious expression on his face would've been hilarious. She did the breathing exercises that Kakashi taught her to do when Naruto was being really (really) annoying. It helped. A little. "I'm afraid I'm going to catch a cold soon."
"Seriously, Itachi-san, just shut up." She made her way over to him and drained tub before rinsing him and fetching the towel on the counter.
"Wait." The Uchiha regarded her quite seriously.
She was absolutely fed up with him. "Now what?" she asked exasperatedly. "If you continue making a fuss like this, the operation won't take place until next week!"
He frowned. "You didn't use conditioner." Her jaw dropped. Literally. "The bottle is clearly right there, and it would only take a little extra effort to use it. A bath is not complete without conditioner, Sakura-san—I'm sure you're aware of that."
She swore to God, he was more of a girl than she was.
"When you're released from the hospital with functional limbs," she forced out, remaining as calm as she could, "then you can condition your hair all you want. But right now—"
"Sakura-san, I need my hair conditioned every time it's washed."
Okay. That was the final straw. Straightening up, she threw the towel to the ground with as much force as she could. She promptly turned on her heels before stalking out of the bathroom, not bothering to close the door behind her.
A grim smile stretched across her lips when she scanned the hallway. "Sasuke-kun!" The younger Uchiha was only just entering the elevator. "Wait!"
Her teammate turned around, quirking an eyebrow in question. Sakura raced over to him and grabbed his wrist, tugging him along with her back the way she came just as the elevator doors began to close.
"Will you do me a favor?" she asked, pouting a little. It worked with all members of Team Seven—even the emotionally constipated Sasuke.
He grunted. "What favor?"
At this, she scowled before gathering some chakra into her arm. "Teach your brother a lesson—and condition his hair while you're at it."
And she threw him into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
A/N: I think I need to go back to some angst. I've been writing so much non-massacre humor for this pairing. (ItaSaku was made for angst. Admit it.)
Constructive criticism is appreciated. -nudge-
His brother stared right back.
"Sasuke," he finally greeted.
Well. Wasn't this awkward.
The older Uchiha nodded towards the counter. When Sasuke looked, he saw a small bottle of conditioner sitting there. "Would you mind?"
Oh, hell no.