In the Uchihas' living room
Shisui jutted out his lower jaw before turning to look at Itachi.
"Come on!" he whined.
Itachi inhaled slowly before letting out a quiet breath through his nose. He kept his eyes on his cards.
On the other side of the table, Madara shredded his cards one at a time and tossed the bits over his shoulder as he looked around.
"No," said Itachi. He turned to the table and drew a card. "Do you have any fours?"
"Go fish," said Madara.
"The card you are dismembering is a four."
"Hn," said Madara, tearing away at the edges. He leaned back. And further back. And further back, now hanging over the armrest of his polished leather lounger, his hair loose and tussled and swishing along the floor as he ignored Itachi's lame attempt at distraction and tried to see down the main hallway to the light peeking out from beneath the—
"We'll be good," needled Shisui, bobbing forward and bouncing in his seat like a child instead of a twenty seven year old litigation attourney.
"Your turn to call," said Itachi to Madara.
Madara's shark eyes shot to the shadows passing by beneath the kitchen door, disrupting the light. "Do you have any co-eds in the kitchen?"
"No." Itachi did not tell Madara to 'go fish'.
"We could see if they need any help?"
"Move from your seat and I will shoot you," said Itachi. He found a pair in his hand and gently laid them on the table. "Do you have any tens?"
"I am a—"
"Go fish," said Itachi, a sea of calm, not bothering to let Shisui finish.
A burst of feminine laughter erupted from the kitchen, and Shisui and Madara stiffened at attention, their noses quivering in the air.
"Three young women, two young men," reported Shisui. "The odds are in our favour."
Madara paused in his playing card shredding long enough for a smirk to cross his features.
"You mean my fav—"
"Are you playing cards?"
A new voice, that of Madara's younger brother, Izuna, broke through their banter.
Izuna nodded at Itachi. "May I join you?"
Itachi gestured to the seat between Madara and Shisui. "Please."
"Has my brother been causing trouble again?" he asked with a small smile.
Itachi dealt Izuna in and gave him a knowing look.
"You should be setting a better example," chided Izuna to Madara as he shuffled his cards.
"Hn," said Madara, though he straightened in his seat.
"Is more company coming tonight?"
Izuna had no sooner spoken than a knock sounded at the back door; without waiting for an answer, two more shinobi strode though.
"Hello! Have you started without me?" boomed Hashirama as he dropped into a seat on the other side of Madara, scooting it closer with a screech of wood against hardwood.
(Madara's nose wrinkled in Hashirama's direction, though he continued defiling the playing cards left in his hand. Itachi had moved the rest of the pack closer to himself to avoid Madara whittling down the rest of their supply.)
Behind Hashirama, Tobirama nodded to Itachi—the only Uchiha he halfway respected—from the door and sat down between him and Hashirama. He may have pulled his leather club chair back several inches from the informal circle in order to reduce the damage to his eardrums that Hashirama's over-enthusiasm would inflict.
Itachi handed him a Sapporo.
At that Izuna looked up hopefully.
Madara's eyes cut to Itachi in an unspoken threat; then Madara passed Izuna a nice cold glass of fresh milk.
"Seriously," whined Izuna. "Tobi gets to drink!"
"You're still growing," said Madara, who went back to ripping up playing cards. He chanced a glance behind him at the kitchen door while Izuna glared at his brother, tight-lipped.
Itachi finished dealing in Hashirama and Tobirama.
Hashirama's eyes lit up. "Tobi, do you have any—"
"Go fish," said Tobirama, deadpan.
"You didn't let me finish!"
"Go fish."
From the kitchen
"Leave lots of food out on the sideboard," said Sakura as she finished stir-frying the vegetables.
"I did. The pizza will be cold if you don't make it over soon," said Sasuke.
"I'm coming," she said. "Karin, could you grab the rice bowls? It feels like a good night for the spirits to be out and about."
"How many?" asked Karin, reaching into Sasuke's cupboards.
Naruto closed his eyes. "Six, at least," he murmured.
Karin tossed her hair over her shoulder and pulled down the decorative ceramic bowls.
"Hinata, did you pour the beer?"
"Yes, Sakura," said Hinata's gentle voice. "And an extra glass of milk, just in case."
"Phew, then we're done!"
Sakura set out the vegetables beside the full steamer of rice. There was enough food to feed an army, but one never knew how many spirits would show up during the solstice. It was always better to please than try to appease.
"Now can we eat our pizza?" whined Naruto.
"Go ahead," said Sakura, smiling. Then her expression faltered. "Shoot! I forgot the cookies in the other room when I set them out to cool!"
"I'll get them—"
"No, you sit down, Hinata. You need to put your feet up," said Sakura, smiling at her very pregnant friend. "I'll be right back."
"Someone's coming," said Tobirama, his senses prickling in warning.
Itachi's eyes narrowed at the gathered shinobi—rather, one shinobi in particular.
One man's indolent sprawl tightened.
Madara smirked.
A final card was torn and discarded—
—the door swung shut behind Sakura as she walked into the living room, lit from the embers in the fireplace that had been warming Sasuke's home.
She collected the trays on the sideboard with the help of a clone and was on her way back to the kitchen when something flickered to the floor behind her.
Brow furrowing she approached the circle of leather loungers and club chairs, rarely used since their little group normally congregated in Sasuke's kitchen.
Around the foot of one of the chairs a pile of torn paper had accumulated... in the shape of a...
Sakura huffed and rolled her eyes, turning back to the kitchen.
"Very funny, Naruto," she drawled, elbowing him in the head when she joined everyone at the table. (The cookies were on the counter with the rest of the food for the spirits.)
"Huh? What? What did I do?"
Sakura shook her head.
"What did I do?" asked Naruto, confused.
Meanwhile, back in the living room, the shinobi coalesced once more and scowled at Madara.
Chuckling under his breath, he lifted a hand to his mouth and blew a tendril of flame at the pile of paper. It went up in lick of smoke.
AN: Many thanks to VesperChan and TheFreckledOne on tumblr for organizing "Fluff Friday". Today's prompt, "Ghost"!