Adoration

It was perfect.

From the color of the cushions that sat innocently before the cherry wooden low table to the birds chirping happily outside in the sunny afternoon. Even the tea set was a sight. Olive green with white petals hand painted on it by some long dead artist he didn't bother learning the name of. It was usually only kept on display, and he'd paid a tiny fortune to actually use it, but he wasn't about to let something like money hold him back. Not one bit. The Uchiha coffers were deep—and his father would have his head speared on a blunt stick outside the Uchiha gates if he didn't at least flaunt that.

Itachi had planned everything, even to where she'd accidentally trip and fall in his arms on the way inside of the spacious room he'd reserved. Comprised of no less than 24 tatami, thank you very much. All new and very posh. Lavender-scented incense burned across the room, pleasing anyone's senses. Even the sliding doors were decorated. They sported golden dragons that chased clouds all across the room.

He went above and beyond the call of duty to impress this woman. He had even worn formal attire, despite how stiff he felt.

It had taken three days of pulling rank and calling-in favors, but he needed to mend his wounded pride at their failure of a first date, so as to finally get the woman out of his head. Because surely, once he did that, then he could have some peace of mind.

Itachi had tried too hard and pulled out too many moves to get her to agree to a second date. She was so skilled at dodging questions that he wondered if the bumbling heiress act was all a front. But that blush didn't lie. She was perceptive—he knew that already. And combined with her personality, she used it to politely steer conversations into all kinds of different directions. Until even he was left impressed once the rain stopped and she stood to go.

In the end, he had just bluntly told her to go out with him again in that courteous, threatening voice of his he knew no one could refuse. It had been a statement posed as a question. And she had acquiesced in the mousiest way possible, with her head bowed in panic and her hands fumbling to retain some semblance of calm; even then, not wanting to insult him.

He at least remembered to say thank you for her time.

But when he inadvertently learned from his complaining little brother that she was infatuated with his loud and bright, overly bright, best friend, well... suffice to say, his ego was bruised. Considerably.

He was going to show her the time of her life in a world only he could provide. To the point where she'd forget all about any awkward fancies and clan-less men she'd ever thought of before him, until only he was left—

No.

This was to patch his pride and get Shishui and his mother off his back, before word reached their fathers about where he'd first taken her. It was damage control. Nothing more.

He refused to admit that she had... sparked his interest. Somewhat.

First, he needed to see how she'd act in the face of him going all out.

"Uchiha-sama," a man called from beyond the door, "Your guest has arrived."

Taking a deep breath, he replied, "Send her in."

The door opened, and Itachi turned his head to see Hinata in a more refined kimono than the one she'd worn at their previous outing. This one was dark as well, but with a rich crimson obi. It was solid, save for the sprinkling of flowers littered at the bottom. She even had an ornament in her hair this time. A striking, ruby pin that he had no doubt cost an arm and a leg.

Seemed the Hyuga wanted to showcase their wealth as well.

Not that he minded.

She took small, tentative steps inside. Her hands were folded neatly in front of her, head bowed ever so slightly, as she took an inconspicuous glance around the room. She gasped at the sight, though she hid it well.

That's more like it, he thought. The surroundings definitely suited her better than the drab fades of old seats and un-sanded wood.

"Hinata," he called, purposely dropping the honorific, "Welcome."

She bowed low, before meeting his gaze. The smile she sent him was slight and dazzling.

"Thank you for inviting me, Itachi-san."

He gestured to the table with a hand, eyes never leaving her blushing form. And just like he planned, a step before she could seat herself, her socked feet lost balance on a marble that he threw and then hit with another to make the two ricochet off of each other and bounce out through an open window at the speed of light.

She fell forward, gasping.

He couldn't help but admire the way she did so. Her hands didn't flail, her legs didn't kick; instead she seemed to curl in on herself, her fingers moving upward to protect her eyes. But there was no need. All it took was a second, and he was by her side. Hand on the small of her back, the other on top of her stomach, just below her breasts.

"Are you alright?" he whispered in her ear, taking pleasure in the way she flushed crimson.

"F—Fine," she breathed out, trying to gather her wits. "Th—Thank you for catching me."

She smelt good, he noted, like vanilla and the incense currently burning across the room. He gave an approving hum, as he helped her down into her seat. Much to her absolute horror. Her hands gripped his, silently telling him that she was alright. Not that he heeded her plea to stop helping. This was part of his plan after all. Still, it was nice to see that she was uncomfortable with men touching her.

As he settled back into his own seat, he made sure to school his features into neutral. No need for her to see his self-satisfied smirk. That would just give them both trouble.

"Have you ever been here before?" he asked, leaning forward. The waiter wouldn't be coming in yet. He knew that for a fact, because he'd given the staff explicit instructions when to enter and leave, so he could time everything accordingly.

"I have," she said, calmer now that the table was once again between them. "Hanabi celebrated her birthday here two years ago. We had to reserve a back room because of how boisterous her friends are."

He liked her smile, he decided then.

"I found out about this place because of Sasuke," he told her. "A woman offered him the other ticket to the reservations she'd made months prior, believing he'd accept because of how renowned the place is. Instead of taking one, however, he took both and disappeared."

Hinata laughed. It wasn't a mouth wide open, throw your head back laugh like Shisui or dark, almost manic chuckles like Sasuke. But... feminine, for lack of a better word. Her entire face lit up with the sound, so much so that even her eyes sparkled in delight at his unexpected story.

Previous Kages help him.

He liked her laugh, too.

"Do you often spend time with Sasuke-kun?" she asked.

He filed away the casual honorific. They were from the same generation, so it would only be natural, but still...

"Not as often as I'd like," he said after a moment. "The ANBU keeps me busy, and Sasuke is always running off with his own team when I'm around."

"I see," she nodded, "Hanabi is the same. It's a little lonely, no?"

His eyes met hers. It was. Though he'd never admit that.

"What do you like to do?" he asked, changing the subject.

Reading the mood, Hinata quickly obliged. "I like to read books and care for the plants in the garden. I also make healing salves for the young children in the clan. Taijutsu is... difficult when you're first starting out. Their hands are always so full of blisters."

He nodded, watching her frown. She said each thing as an afterthought, coming back to it then looking him in the eye like she wasn't sure if that counted as proper answers.

"Is that all?"

"I..." she hesitated, wondering what else to say. "I cook sometimes when no one's in the kitchen. B—But you already know that. Not many in my family like sweets, so they can't stand the smell of the pastries I make."

"I like sweets," he hinted.

There was a moment of silence where he just waited for her to say what he wanted to hear. He was practically laying the invite out for her. But when she only nodded and smiled at him again like she'd found a comrade, he almost cracked the glass in his hand.

Would it kill her to ask him out? He would've classified this as an S-Class mission at this point.

"Would you make some for me?" he went on, amused by her sudden sputtering. "I haven't had homemade sweets in a long time. Do you make traditional or modern ones?"

"B—Both."

"Could I trouble you, then? If you're concerned about the kitchen, you can always come to my family home."

She was blushing so much. He accidentally let his amused smile break free.

Her mouth opened and closed. Twice. If it was to reject him once more, he didn't know. But the waiter would be coming in soon anyway. He knew she wouldn't be able to find her voice that quickly.

Three, two, o—

There was a rasp on the door.

"Come in," he said, before she could answer. The door opened. He ignored it in favor of turning back to her. "What do you say, Hinata?"

She looked at the stoic faced waiter, then back at her present company.

Itachi knew he was being pushy. He'd never even intended to ask for another date—though he did make sure to think of at least nine different plans to ensure he got one if he was still interested, and not even ten minutes in, he'd already utilized the first.

That couldn't be a good sign.

He also couldn't give a damn.

"If you're really okay with me being there, then..." she let the sentence hang.

Itachi made sure to look her right in the eyes, ignoring the uncomfortable waiter standing by the door.

"I like the thought of you in my home, Hinata."

He laughed, distinct and virile, when even the waiter blushed.