Itachi in an apron was a sight they really didn't want to get used to.

They were standing in Tobi's kitchen with an expanse of ingredients on the counter top. Tobi and Itachi were wearing matching bright orange aprons with Sasori watching amusedly from a stool. A decent looking fish stared up at the younger Uchiha, slimy bubbled eye blank. It unnerved him to lock eyes with it in such a fashion, but he couldn't bring himself to look away.

"Okay, Itachi-senpai!"Tobi chirped, "So we'll try this method first. Sakura-sama loves food and would pretty much try anything. So we can start out with something simple-- fish! You know how to fry that at least, right?"

"No." Itachi answered. Sasori snorted as he ran a sharpening rock down a kunai. It was good to be honest, at least. Tobi's face dropped and he jumped closer to the other incredulously.

"N-Not even that? But you're twenty-nine years old!"

When he was a child, it was Uchiha tradition for the mother of the household to prepare all three meals for the family. That explained why he never learned to cook for the first thirteen years of his life. Up until he was twenty-three, Kisame would be the one to make their food if they weren't at a restaurant. And for the past six years, various vendors, grocery stores, and shops were at his disposal. He found no need to cook for himself. He didn't even own any pots or pans.

Tobi waved that off.

"Oh well, it's not a big deal. You're never too old to start anything. So! Here's how we start..."

One Hour Later

"I've seen cooked fish before. That's charcoal. I'm sorry that you're culinarily disabled." Sasori remarked. The three of them stared down at the pitch black lump sitting menacingly on a plate. Itachi, expectedly, gazed down at his horrifying creation like he assumed this would be the outcome.

"We could always try again!" Tobi exclaimed. He was determined to get at least something out of him that could appeal to Sakura-sama.

"I doubt that my skills could be curbed to a more... domestic. I was made to be a shinobi, not a chef." he said. Sasori's eyes narrowed at those words. He placed down the kunai and stone before taking one of the hard candies from the glass bowl to the left of him.

"So you're just going to give up? Is that it?" he drawled as he twisted the wrapper off, "Funny how the great Uchiha Itachi was defeated by a stove fire when he could breathe it himself."

Tobi placed the spatula in his hand on the table and retreated from the kitchen. It was one thing to get Sasori taunting, but it was a whole other ideal when the person he began taunting was the ever impassive Itachi. This had happened once before over a conversation discussing what the value of a life was, which resulted in half their base burned to ash and the remainder of the roof split to pieces.

Now, where did he put that fire extinguisher?

At his leaving, Itachi loosely crossed his arms and regarded the puppeteer coolly.

"Is there something you find unsatisfying?" he asked. Sasori gave him a smug smile that only incited an irritation in his bones.

"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all. I just find that your attitude to your whole plight lackadaisical. I understand that you're not one to show your emotions, obviously, but it just seems like you're not serious about her at all." he mused, "I mean, you're a heartless killer, hm? Why would Sakura-sama want to be with a person who killed his entire family?"

In the hallway upon hearing those words, Tobi's haste turned into a frenzy as he tore through his things, looking for that fire extinguisher.

Itachi's eyes narrowed a fraction.

"I may have asked for your help, but don't think it wise for you to make me out as entertainment. If I were you, I would tread very carefully with this conversation." he said. His tone was calm as per usual, but any fool would know to keep their mouth shut or turn the topic to something else. Sasori happened to be a special type of fool. A smart one.

"I'm not doing this to get a kick out of you, believe it or not. I'm telling you this for her sake, not yours."

At Itachi's calculating expression, Sasori continued.

"The first time I met Sakura-sama, she was fifteen. Young and reckless, standing unabashedly at Chiyo-baa-sama's side. An idiot, I thought. She stood no chance. Because when you first looked at her, you could see that she wasn't made for fighting. But she decided to prove me wrong and I fell at her hands."

He folded the wrapper with the nimble fingers.

"Three years later, I find myself standing before her once more. Everyone before me decided to stay under her order and it made me think: She's strong, for one, but how was she able to make some of the world's most dangerous criminals join her ranks in such unassuming positions? The fifteen year old I met wasn't a leader. Far from one. Now I owe her nothing but gratitude." he said. Sasori held the wrapper up to the light, lazily observing the origami heron he made, "If it weren't for her, where would I be now? Buried underground with the rest of those Jomae shinobi?"

He set the heron aside.

"It may be early to bring this up, but I'll do it anyways since it's you after all."

He slid off the stool and walked around to stand face to face with Itachi. His fawn brown eyes turned unnaturally serious.

"That being said, I will serve Sakura-sama to the best of my ability. I will complete any mission she assigns, train my genin team to be exceptional shinobi, and do anything she asks of me. And because of her position, she's that type of person who considers other people's feelings before her own. If there is a threat that could hurt her in the future, I can assure you that I, along with many others, will not tolerate it. I owe her too much to let her make a mistake."

Sasori leaned closer.

"Are you going to be that mistake, or are you going to be the one that helps her?" he questioned. Itachi's jaw tightened.

"I--"

KKKSSSSHHHHHHHHH!

The next thing they knew, they were both assaulted by a stream of pressurized water and left in terribly cold, soaking clothes.

"I don't want my kitchen ruined!"