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"I'm going to kill you."
"Sexy. Do you think you can wait until after the gyoza comes out? I chose the scallion and ginger one, and you could've ordered the lemongrass and chive if, you know, you weren't boring a hole into the waitress's head."
"Shisui."
"Sakura," he says in the most mocking drawl she's ever heard him roll out.
"She was touching your hand! While I was sitting right here!"
"I know. I have that hand."
"And I will break it off!"
"What did you want me to do? Tell her to jump into the lake before my girlfriend tosses you in?"
"Yes!"
Shisui gives her a look.
Sakura squirms uncomfortably; she hates when he gets all rational and she's forced to admit to her mistakes. She has her pride here! Her dignity to protect! And if he can't tell the little twit to fuck off – she might not be a twit at all, she could be a very nice girl! – then obviously she's going to have to do it herself.
The waitress comes back carrying a pot of tea and a plate of steaming hot gyoza. The brunette puts the pot of tea in the middle of the table and places the plate of gyoza in front of Shisui with a guile smile. Sakura's eyebrow twitches at the slight.
The brunette titters, "Are you ready to order or would you like a few more minutes, Uchiha-san?"
Shisui looks at Sakura expectantly - Sakura, whose fingers twitch to shake her boyfriend's shoulders and scowl at the waitress's lack of professionalism – the waitress finally turns to look at Sakura and sweetens her smile to a false one, "Obaa-san?"
Obaa-san?
She is a little twit.
"The wakame salad with yuzu dressing," Sakura smiles back just as sweetly, "Are you new here?"
Shisui stares at Sakura warily.
The brunette furrows her brows, "New?" she smiles a little more forced, "I have been the head waitress here for nearly four years."
"Yet, you were distracted by a handsome face and disregarded your other customer," she quips back smoothly, coldly, "Your service leaves much to be desired, and you're supposed to be the head waitress? How unfortunate."
The waitress' face whitens at that.
"We will take a few more minutes to decide on our main course," Sakura continues and tilts her head to the side, "Perhaps then, you will show us just exactly why you are head-waitress and not a silly child playing grown-up."
The brunette gives a stiff nod, bows, and leaves them to themselves.
Sakura raises a brow at Shisui's mystified look. She's glad that she's gotten a hold of her temper, though her response may be a bit extreme; she lets it go. It was out of her hands now; she thinks with indifference. "Yes?"
"You sounded like Mikoto-obaa, there."
"Well, she is your aunt. She's Sasuke's mother. I do spend quite a bit of time with her. I would assume I would pick up some of her mannerisms."
"Some of her mannerisms?"
"I could be drinking sake like water or gambling away my life's expenses. Which would you prefer?"
Shisui shakes his head.
Shisui had a faint understanding that the waitress was indeed flirting with him, but it wasn't like it was important. Sakura was all that he saw and all that he wanted. He couldn't ever fathom being with someone other than her and all her glory—it was unthinkable. There was no woman that could ever hold a candle to his medic, no one on this earth that could ever take her place, and she knew that.
He knew Sakura could handle herself, and he wouldn't insult her by saying otherwise. He tried to pay no mind to it. Most things stop after a while if you ignore them. But he sees Sakura's red face, her clenched jaw, and the irritation creased in her forehead and wonders if he put it there.
"I don't understand why you're upset," Shisui finally says and takes a bite of his gyoza while she watches him chew his food.
"You don't think I'm upset that there was a girl flirting with you, in front of me, your girlfriend, and you did nothing about it?"
Shisui picks up a gyoza and tries to feed Sakura a piece, but she presses her lips together and leans back in her chair.
Then he realizes that Sakura isn't angry, she's upset.
Because these are her favorite dumplings and the fact that she would turn down food – she stress-eats chocolate with shaved coconut in the expensive lavender wrapper after a sad drama for the Gods' sake! – her favorite dumplings of all things, roots a wave in his stomach.
"What did you want me to do? Tell her to leave? To get a new waitress?"
Sakura runs her fingers through her very put-together hairstyle – her beautiful braid with silver pins that sparkle like fireflies under the dim lights – until the strands fall over her shoulders in unruly waves; frazzled. She exhales roughly, "I don't know Shisui, but if someone did something similar to me right in front of you, I would've put a stop to it."
Shisui looks at her incredulously and asks her with a slight bite, "Did you forget what happened with the Iwa ambassador?"
"Yes, he made..." she grimaces, "Some inappropriate remarks about myself and my sex life regarding you in front of the delegation, but I didn't let him get away with it! I would never let him disrespect you like that!"
And that was the crux of the matter.
Despite Shisui never telling the waitress that he reciprocated her advances, he never told her no either.
Because Shisui didn't protect Sakura by defending their relationship and that hurt her in a way that he never meant to.
"Oh," Shisui says softly; he sees.
Sakura's gaze eases just slightly.
He thought it was easy. Sakura had always been enough and sometimes too much for him. She filled the room with light and color. With such vibrance and brilliance that it was hard to look away from her without feeling the slightest bit overcome. He loved her all the same and would take her in any form or any chance he got. He would never try to downplay her power or her strength, because she worked so hard to reach a point in her life that she was simply content with who she was.
But being strong and having that power doesn't mean that she shouldn't be protected. Of course, she should be protected, Shisui thinks gravely, her reputation, her kindness, her compassion, and her passion should be protected because they were so freely given and so easily hurt. Sakura never needed anyone to protect her, she needed someone to fight for her.
"Are we ready to order?" The brunette comes back with Sakura's salad. She's a bit more subdued, but the stubborn tilt in her chin told the med-nin that this wasn't over.
Shisui straightens up.
"I would like to request a new waitress," he pauses to gauge Sakura's reaction before reaching over the enclose her fist in the palm of his hand.
The brunette blanches, "Uchiha-san?"
"It has occurred to me that you were under the impression that I was...unattached," Shisui manages to sound both amused and irritated, "How I wonder? My companion is one of the most beautiful women the Land of Fire has ever known and to ignore Konoha's best medical ninja is a crime in its own right," he continues smoothly and Sakura bites her lip to stop her smile, "I am uncomfortable with your advances and would be remiss if I did not put a stop to it, if not for myself, but for my fiancée. Please, excuse yourself. I would hate for Haruto-san to understand why I refused to come back to Takumi."
She stammers, lost, "I apologize," she says quite hurriedly before quickly disappearing into the halls.
Sakura swallows her smile in favor of pouring some tea, "You were laying it on a little thick."
Shisui doesn't take remove his hand from hers and grins, "But you're smiling."
"It's hard not to. Not when you sound like Fugaku-oji," she chuckles and pours him a cup. She teases lightly, "I see you've picked up some of his mannerisms."
"Well, he is my uncle."
Sakura smiles and sips her tea before finally allowing him to feed her a dumpling. She peers up at him with fluttery lashes, "So," she drawls out, "Fiancée?"
Shisui quirks his lips and leans back in his seat. He's quiet for a moment, contemplating his reasoning, and pulls out a box from the inside of his coat pocket. He lifts the tiny black box against the orange lantern, the velvet shimmers like a stream of silver. He promises with dark eyes, "Soon."
Sakura stares at him, flabbergasted, equal parts elated and shocked. She breathes, "But, you can still—"
"No," he denies her and puts the box back into his breast pocket, close to his heart.
Sakura is heartbroken.
Shisui grabs both her hands this time, just before she slides back into her chair – to possibly pummel him for dangling the best piece of jewelry that she will ever own – and sulk. He pulls her until she's hovering over the table. Shisui swears, "Not like this, Sakura."
"Shisui, you don't have to—" she tries quietly, emerald eyes a darker jade in the night.
"I want to do this properly," he says impishly, a dimple winking in the corner of his smile, "So, let me."
"I'll say yes," Sakura smiles shyly, pink brushing her cheekbones, "You know that."
Shisui presses his lips to the inside of her wrist and attests to that, "I do."