Summary: Sakura was more than content being a journalist. She liked writing articles, and she got paid well to do so. However, when she's asked to write an article on a certain rendezvous wedding... Things begin to go downhill. AU.
A/N: A sudden idea I had. I hope people find it interesting; AU's are still read, aren't they?
Disclaimer: Masashi Kishimoto owns Naruto. Not I.
Penning a Whisper
"I'm never attending another one of Hidan's speeches again. Ever."
I nodded absentmindedly as the blonde girl beside me complained. Pocketing my notepad back into my purse, I stifled a yawn. We had just attended a lengthy seminar, one that had long been anticipated by the media. It had showcased information about a startling new religion, and being journalists, my best friend and I had inevitably shown up to listen.
"It was so damn boring," Temari muttered under her breath.
"I thought it was pretty interesting." I said, with an awkward smile. "I think I wrote enough notes to make up a novel."
"Interesting? More like eccentric, Sakura. All that priest or whatever really did was curse for the first half hour."
"It'll still be something to write about, won't it?"
Temari rolled her eyes and didn't reply.
Pressing down the elevator button, I tapped my finger against my leg thoughtfully. Articles about the speech would undoubtedly begin surfacing as early as tomorrow morning. I had to hurry and pen mine out, before anyone else did. News was only taken with interest when the topic it covered was still fresh, and hot.
The elevator clicked open, the silver doors sliding smoothly aside as we stepped in. Temari punched in the button that lead to the first floor, before leaning back against one of the handrails. Fumbling with a pocket in her bag, she pulled out a stick of chewing gum.
"Want one?" she asked, popping a piece into her mouth.
I nodded and accepted it. "Thanks."
"Mm."
We stood in a comfortable silence while the elevator trod down, listening placidly to the music trickling from the speakers. Temari seemed to be humming calmly to herself, though I could tell she was actually thinking about the sermon. I was reflecting back on it as well, trying my best to recall everything the priest had said.
The young man stood at the podium, his silver hair slicked back and shining. After shuffling through his cue cards several times, he cleared his throat and tapped the microphone lightly.
"Hey," he greeted. "I didn't expect so many people to come, but whatever. I guess that's a good thing, anyway."
Looking down at one of his notes, he began to speak fervently about his religion. From my place at the front with the other reporters and journalists, I could see and understand everything pretty clearly. To my surprise, the priest had spoken very casually.
"Jashin is an all-powerful deity, so don't go fucking pissing him off. Seriously."
He had also used some very strong words.
It had turned out that Jashinism was a belief based on destruction. As Hidan had kindly put it: salvation could only be won by devastation.
Many members of the audience had been very skeptical. Even more had been outraged by his speech. As for the news crews and reporters, we had been fascinated by the sermon. It was different and intriguing. Most importantly though, it was proving itself to be a very good story to hit newsstands.
The elevator halted with a subtle shudder. The doors opened again, and Temari and I stepped out, careful to avoid bumping into the people now entering.
"We should head back to the office, shouldn't we?" My best friend questioned, running a hand through her short blonde hair.
"I guess we should," I agreed. "Karin will probably get mad at me otherwise. She was looking forward to hearing about this."
Temari nodded, and began to walk out of the building. We work for Hebi Press, a firm that organizes, publishes, and distributes the popular newspaper The Konoha Gazette. The building is located a few blocks off Main St., and luckily for us, was just a few minutes walk from where we already were.
"When do you think you'll be done with your article, Sakura?" Temari asked, as we crossed a particularly large street.
"Maybe by tonight, if I hurry." I responded thoughtfully. "I'm actually really looking forward to working on it."
"You've always been so fast with that kind of stuff. I'm jealous," Temari sighed. "It usually takes me days to finish an article."
"No, not really. I think you do a better job than me."
Temari gave a slight chuckle, before turning around the corner.
"You're too modest," she chided.
I smiled sheepishly, and shrugged. After a few more minutes of light conversation, we reached Hebi Press.
Our firm covers up a little more than half of a large 12-floor building. It's located on the bottom, while a lawyer firm is situated on the upper levels. Compared to many other publishing buildings, Hebi Press is pretty large.
The glass doors skid to the side automatically as we drew near. I could hear Temari's heels press against the hard ground with light clicks as she walked. She waved at one of her co-workers, and I waved to one of mine, as we passed their cubicles.
"We're a little late." Temari noted, looking down at her watch.
"Exactly how late?" I asked, feeling a little perturbed.
"Around 20 minutes."
I winced.
"I blame it on that stupid priest, Hidan or whatever. I swear he used up about 30 minutes just cussing," Temari muttered dryly.
"He did get some interesting points across, though." I said, fumbling for my notepad. "I think Karin will like reading through them."
Temari sighed. "His ideas were all radical. Seriously, rituals involving self-mutilation? That's more than a little harsh."
"Well, he managed to get the public's attention."
"...Yeah, by talking about animal sacrifices. Most of that 'attention' is going to be scrutiny, anyway."
Shrugging it off, I flipped through my notes placidly. We walked through the halls, going up a few floors to reach the editors' offices. My editor, Karin, had her office toward the left. Temari's lay to the right. Reaching the small hallway fork, we said brief good-byes to each other.
I watched Temari walk off, before she finally disappeared around the corner of a cubicle. I hurried away myself, hoping to catch Karin as early as possible.
I quickly reached her office, and I peered in cautiously. Karin was seated at her large walnut desk, poring over a pile of papers. Her glasses were beginning to slip off the edge of her nose, though she didn't bother to raise them. I knocked on the edge of her open door softly, to get her attention.
"Oh, it's you." Karin said, as she lifted her head. As she did so, she pushed her glasses further up her nose. "You're late, Sakura."
"The seminar went a little longer than we expected," I awkwardly explained. "The... Uh, priest, got really enthusiastic about the subject."
"Uh-huh."
"But it was pretty riveting," I added. "I definitely think the media will be all over this one."
"I see," Karin nodded, signing something with a flourish. "Did you write notes? If you did, give me a copy before you leave today. When's the earliest you can finish the article?"
"Probably by tonight, if I get started now."
"Then go ahead and get started," Karin said briskly. Standing up, she brushed a portfolio full of papers to the side of her desk. "I'd help you some, but I'm going out for lunch with my fiancé."
"Oh, okay."
As Karin reached to get her purse, she turned back to face me.
"Sakura," she said. "I was actually thinking... You write better than most of our journalists."
I reddened slightly at the compliment.
"So," Karin crisply continued. "I was wondering if you'd write an article for my fiancé and I. We're getting married in several weeks time, and we'd like it if you could cover the details on our wedding."
"...On your wedding?"
The brunette nodded, as she coolly slung her purse over her shoulder.
"It's not going to be an ordinary wedding. My fiancé is the heir to a large company, so I guess it could be considered as a type of 'celebrity' marriage."
As she said this, I couldn't help but notice how happy my editor seemed to be. Her expression was usually a smug-looking one, but she was currently beaming. She almost looked euphoric.
With a wide smile, Karin pointed a pale finger toward my direction.
"So? Will you do it, Sakura?"
I returned Karin's grin with a mild one of my own. It sounded interesting.
"Yes, sure." I answered, shifting my purse to my other arm. "I didn't know you were getting married so soon, though. Who's the lucky guy?"
Karin broke into another large smile, looking proud.
"His name is Sasuke Uchiha."
My editor began to gush further, though I didn't pay attention. Instead, my ears seemed to ring in a way that was almost soundless, though they deafened me nonetheless. The pen I had been holding in my hand almost dropped to the floor, though I managed to catch it by the tip of its cap.
Sasuke Uchiha. I remembered that name, and very clearly too.
It was the name that had given me so much joy and so many fond memories.
It was the name that had caused me so much heartbreak, and trouble.
It was the name of my old boyfriend, and childhood friend.
A/N: Eek. I'm not too good at writing angsty/serious things, and I think that shows here. I really did try my best, though.
Well, hopefully I'll be able to improve over time.
Any critique/reviews would definitely be appreciated. But more importantly, thank you for reading!