This should teach me not to write drabbles at one in the morning! Oh why did I write this...why... I just felt like cranking it out for no apparent reason. I thought about adding it to Red Threads of Daybreak, but I tossed around the idea of rewriting this one day and maybe continuing it as a chapter fic...and then I couldn't stick it in with the other AkaSaku drabbles...

I know Itachi's birthday is MONTHS away...I practically managed to write this a literal half-year away from the actual date (mentioned several times below...) but indulge me. My own birthday's coming up so I've got birthdays on the brain. This was in-part inspired by going through too many Itachi birthday pics off dA, especially one really amusing ItaSaku-ish picture by kirikun. It goes along with a fic called Birthdays Past but I've never had the chance to read it. Should do that...

Anyway, it hasn't been beta'd and I was falling asleep as I wrote this so please forgive the glaring grammatical errors, the spelling mistakes from the nether-realms, and the utter lack of writing ability.

Happy half-birthday Itachi-kun...sorry about this XD

To Myself

Chapter 1: Unexpectedly

He'd never really cared about the day. It had been just one, slightly nicer, day amid the endless stream of other days that all seemed to run into each other under the relentless tide of his missions. And there had been no one to celebrate after his thirteenth…well, for obvious reasons. All in all, June 9th had just become another day in his year, of no importance whatsoever.

It didn't phase him now, exactly twenty-four years after the first June 9th that had ushered him into the world, to be flying through the verdant forest in summer's early heat back towards the Akatsuki's current hideout with several top security scrolls secreted in his kunai pouch.

It wasn't as if he gave his birthday much thought these days anyway.

He was used to treating it as he did every other day of his year – meaning a general slew of kunai, genjutsu, and fire punctuated by the occasional period of boredom – which was probably why the unexpected shuriken flying at his face that he so sinuously dodged seemed to leave him completely unperturbed.

Nonetheless, it was something unusual on his birthday – the kunai's target wasn't himself for once and seemed to have been flung at him purely by chance – and it couldn't hurt to glance at the situation. It was possible he might find something to gain from the situation, even if that something merely amounted to a little amusement to assuage his growing boredom.

He shifted course a little, masking his chakra signature, and sped off through the treetops, expertly finding a high vantage point to conceal himself.

Like the way his twenty-fourth birthday was turning out to be, the battle be low him could easily be described in a single word: unusual.

A tiny slip of a female, her hands glowing with aquamarine chakra, darted between the bodies of shinobi far larger than herself in height and girth, dealing death with every blow she landed. It was strangely amusing to see her dodging the haphazard blows of the band of missing-nin that had attacked her, gracefully avoiding the majority of the relentless barrage of kunai hurled at her.

But only the majority.

A blade sliced through the outside of her left thigh, earning a hiss of pain as the girl twisted around to diminish the severity of the blow. Her retreat transitioned seamlessly into an offensive strike that left her attacker incapacitated with a shattered kneecap as she narrowly dodged another hail of weaponry, this time shuriken.

But as impressive as her abilities to dodge and place carefully planned chakra-enhanced punches was, her technique was swiftly draining her of strength. It would only be a matter of time until fatigue made her careless.

"Damn it!"

The curse colored the still summer air as three shuriken pierced her crimson top, the slits that formed across her torso growing drenched with a red that was darker than the cloth.

'I suppose it's only a matter of time…'

It was sad really; his entertainment was already growing to a close. He almost considered stepping in to even the odds a little (a battle of six against one seemed the tiniest bit unfair…) before realizing the train of his own thoughts and stopping himself. It had been years since he'd considered something like that; as an Akatsuki there was little time for such things like fairness…

When he turned his attention back to the battle, and away from the internal monologue over the possibility of morality within the Akatsuki circle, it was already over. Missing-nin littered the scarred and pitted battlefield, and the girl had dragged her battered body to the shade of one of the larger trees to run emerald chakra-pulses over the deep slash across her abdomen that bled sluggishly over her outfit, draining the last of her already low chakra reserves to keep possible death at pay.

And then…she collapsed, utterly boneless, against the tree roots.

At that point, he should have been well on his way.

His amusement was done, the others were probably dead, and the girl was unconscious. He had no reason to linger. And yet…he found it surprisingly difficult to tear his eyes away from the slender, rosy-headed figure that lay curled uncomfortably against the thick roots of an oak.

He surprised even himself when he lightly jumped down to the bloodstained battlefield, to more closely observe the unconscious female.

Her breathing was a little shallower than was entirely healthy, but she had fought a rough battle then healed herself, an act that must have taken more concentration than he could accredit to even the considerable talents of his fellow Akatsuki members. The jagged slice that had opened up her midsection was healing, the blood already clotted. A quick scan of the rest of the battlefield told him that the other shinobi were indeed no longer among the living.

Yup. Time to leave.

But he stopped at the clearing's edge as if held there by a string that refused to let him go farther.

Then, without giving himself a chance to really consider the implications of his next actions, he about-faced sharply, marched back to the unconscious nineteen-year-old, scooped her up with more than a little consideration to her extensive – if now healing – injuries, and disappeared through the foliage.

He figured, it was his birthday. He hadn't gotten any presents for over a decade, so it was obvious he was due. Besides, the Akatsuki could probably use a regular medic who knew what she was doing.

He slid elegant fingers over strawberry-cream locks slightly matted with sweat in a touch that wasn't quite a caress.

It was his birthday gift to himself; he was pretty sure he deserved it.

Summer heat soaked into the inky fabric of his Akatsuki cloak, and he found himself humming a song he hadn't heard in eleven years.

Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday dear me. Happy birthday to me…

Honestly, shortest thing I've written probably. The next chapter of Belonging will be up on Friday as scheduled, but I was almost done writing out the chapter today and realized it was about twelve pages long with still a whole scene to go! Not to mention, the story itself is already 87 pages typed...and maybe only halfway finished. Strangely thrilling XD

EDIT: Unexpectedly ended up writing another chapter...not really sure why myself but I think Itachi from my Myself-verse got hold of my muse somehow while she was MIA for the past two months and made her write some more of his thoughts on Sakura. If he gets my muse again, I might even have to write a third chapter...the story is still "Complete" though, so who knows.

Please review...even for a little drabble such as this...