It was a bright cold day in Konoha Township, and the clocks were striking into the afternoon. Haruno Sakura, her chin nuzzled into her breast in an effort to escape the vile wind, slipped quickly through the decorated doors of Springfield Mansions, though not quickly enough to prevent a swirl of gritty dust from entering along with her. The hallway smelt of cleaning supplies and a variety of scented air fresheners. Probably the janitors' way of making sure the place was spotless. Sakura made for the stairs. Sakura's flat was seven flights up, and Sakura, who was twenty-two, had nicely shaped legs as a result of climbing those stairs every day on numerous occasions. Inside the flat, the fruity voice of a radio DJ was reading out what appeared to be a list of birthdays and anniversaries. Closing the thick ornamental door to her apartment with the stainless glass, Sakura turned a switch and the voice sank somewhat. The walls were adorned with various pieces of abstract art from several famous artists and portraits of Sakura herself scattered here and there. Leaving her keys on the wooden coffee table, Sakura pranced across the living room towards a miniature corridor that had several doors to it. Entering the bedroom, she allowed her cinnamon suede Jacket to fall her from body and land on the bed. Perfumes and a polished silver brush, comb, and a mirror set were scattered on the dresser. Sakura had notes to herself jammed into the large gold-rimmed mirror.
"I need to re-organize my room," Sakura observed. The back wall of the fairly large bedroom consisted of an elaborate closet that ran the length of the room. It had short poles for blouses, high poles for evening gowns. It was sectioned off so that coats hung in one area, suits in another, daytime dresses in another. There were shelves for sweaters and purses; racks for shoes; a jewelry unit with brass extensions for hands shaped like branches of a tree, to hold necklaces and bracelets. A pair of ghoulishly real plaster hands were upraised as though in prayer with the fingers separated were for rings. The hands looked as though they wanted to strangle you.
In contrast to the rest of the apartment, the closet was relatively neat. The clothes were hung precisely on the satin hangers. Zippers were fastened to the top. Jackets were buttoned. It was as if she cared more about how her clothing looked than anything. Scraping manicured digits through glossy locks to straighten the work kinks out, the voguish matron positioned a towel and bath rag over her shoulder before proceeding into the lavatory for a hazy shower. Upon emerging from the steamy smog that was the bathroom, her cell rung. Fumbling around for it inside of her coat pocket, she pressed the green phone. "Hello?" She chirped.
"About time you picked up your phone. Jeez," the peeved voice of her blond colleague bore into her ear, making her hold the device farther away from her head than it should be. "Yeah. I'm sorry; I was taking a much needed shower. What's up, Ino?"
It was a Friday evening, and the Blondie was a socialite. She most likely wanted to consort on the busy streets of the town. Be that as it may, Sakura still had a gimmick at home that she needed to deal with for the evening and unfortunately; she wouldn't be able to accompany her.
"Well, I had plans for Sasuke-kun when he comes home this evening, Ino. I'm sorry. How about tomorrow night?" She inquired apologetically. There was a pause on the other end, and Sakura was sure that her best friend was dismayed. "Fine, fine, tomorrow for sure. You'd better not cancel on me either," Ino prompted playfully. The pink-haired young woman chortled.
"Alright, see you tomorrow," Glad that was over with, Sakura hung up the cell and stretched herself out on the bed. Ino was a bit of a domineering fashion freak, but she meant well. They had been really close since Elementary. Remembering what she needed to do, she let her towel drop from her body. Revealing her curvaceous physique for a swift second, she didn't waste time in wrapping a silk bathrobe tightly around her midriff and securing it tightly in a knot. Her eyes locked onto the clock near the bed. Sasuke-kun will be home in an hour. She had an agenda, and she needed to do it quickly. Tripping over expensive household property, she made for the den. "What am I going to do? He'll be home soon, and he'll be piss-"Her chitchat evaporated into a puff of breath as the said Uchiha stood mutely in the doorway. With his dingy suitcase in his hand, the raven-haired man raised an ebony eyebrow. He was not pleased.