A/N: I have to get this out of my head. I'm going to start this story and I'm giving you a fair warning now, it's going to go as far as my imagination will take me. I don't have any outline made for this one because I'm too impatient and lazy to make one. I'm going to let my imagination guide my way and hopefully, it'll turn out to be a good story. This is me being spontaneous and purely organic.
Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, Apple, or Chevrolet, but I do own this idea. Please don't steal it!
Prologue
Who knew that one person could change your life in so many ways and on so many levels? Certainly not me and certainly not the people I cared about. I mean sure, there's your soul mate and what not, but really, one person? I guess it's understandable because I mean, when you love someone, you're willing to do whatever it takes to make sure they're happy, right? Even if it means you need to sacrifice your own happiness in the process, right? But damn, it sure hurts like a mother hugger sacrificing your own happiness. I dug a hole for myself filled with poop and it's all because of one man, Sasuke Uchiha.
Chapter 1
"Sweetie, are you sure about this? I mean, it's not like you're poor or anything, no offense to the impoverished, so why do you feel the need to work?"
I roll my eyes in annoyance from my mother's constant worrying. For the past week ever since I applied for a part-time job as a secretary for the President and CEO of Uchiha Corporations, my mother has been trying, in vain, to persuade me to not take the job opportunity, and her reasons are absolutely ridiculous! I mean c'mon, being poor has nothing to do with working. Well, for some it might which is perfectly alright, but really, money? Working is not always about the money, especially for me.
I want to work simply for the gratification and the feeling of knowing that I can support myself. It's part of who I am and it's part of me trying to be independent. Ever since I was young my parents have spoiled me with everything I've ever wanted, which I'm beyond thankful for, but I'm tired of it and I think it's time that I supported myself, so why couldn't my parents understand that?
"Darling, your mother and I have worked our asses off to make sure you live the happiest, most wonderful life possible, so there is absolutely no need for you to work for some stranger, who, on another note, could potentially be a crazy lunatic!"
Ugh, my parents just don't understand.
"I know dad and I'm grateful that you guys have given me everything I've ever wanted, but I need to learn to be independent sometime, and what better way than to work while I'm in college?"
I'm currently enrolled as a graduate student at Konoha University's prestigious Senju College of Medicine in New York City, New York. I'm in my eighth year of college and fourth year of med school. Basically, I'm about to graduate from med school and continue my studies as a surgical intern at Konoha Grace Hospital. My dream is to surpass the legendary surgeon Tsunade and become one of the world's best, if not the best, cardiothoracic, neurological, and pediatric surgeon. I know it sounds like a lot of subspecialties to pursue, but I know I can do it.
When I was five, my mother gave birth to a baby boy with heart problems who passed away when he was only two years old. Of course, I didn't know it was heart problems back then, but I found out when I was about thirteen years old; thus, the reason why I want to specialize in cardiothoracic and pediatric surgery. I want to save the lives of people who suffer from heart problems and the lives of infants and toddlers who haven't been given a fair shot at living in this wretched but wonderful world of ours. I want to be a neurological surgeon because my favorite cousin died from a brain injury when we were both seven, the same year my baby brother died. One can only imagine the kind of suffering and torment inflicted upon a little seven year old girl from losing her baby brother and closest cousin in the same year.
Thankfully, their deaths affected me in a positive way, and on the day I graduated from high school I vowed to myself that I would be the best surgeon I could be with a less than one percent death rate in surgery. I don't want people to suffer the same kind of sadness I had to endure when I lost my brother and cousin.
"But Sakura dear, you're only twenty-four!"
My mom says twenty-four but she treats me like I'm thirteen. Twenty-four sounds too young to be graduating from med school, but I skipped grades four and five when I was in the third grade, so I graduated from high school at the young age of sixteen. Yup, I am most definitely intelligent.
"Mom, did you not hear what you just said? I'm twenty-four! Most twenty-four year olds would already have their MD and stable jobs, yet here I am about to graduate from med school, as valedictorian no less, and begin my internship at one of the most prestigious hospitals in the world!"
Please get it mom, please.
"If you're about to start your internship at one of the most prestigious hospitals in the world, then why do you still want to work as a secretary for a corporation?"
Ugh, she didn't get it but she does have a good point. Why do I want to work as a secretary for one of the most successful businesses in the nation if I'm going to begin my internship at Konoha Grace? Hmm, I really have to think about it and bite my lower lip. Sometimes, I believe biting my lower lip helps me think, but other times I think it's just a natural habit of mine.
"Honestly, I don't know, but I do know I want to prove something to myself."
My mom throws her arms up in exasperation and I catch my dad run a tired hand through his blood red locks. For a moment, I vaguely wonder how hair as red as his could lead to cotton candy pink hair like mine. It must be due to my mother's exceptionally light brown hair.
"You don't know? Sweetie, what exactly do you need to prove to yourself?"
What do I need to prove to myself? I need to prove that I can be self-sufficient and that I can fully take care of myself.
"I need to prove that I can take care of myself. I want to be independent."
"Okay fine, but why are you doing your internship and working as a secretary? It makes no sense! You can't do it Sakura." My mom just called me by my first name which means she's serious. Wait, did she just tell me I can't do it?
"It's too hard. I know that interns have twenty-four hour shifts. Sometimes, they're forty-eight hours. Where on earth are you going to find the time to work as a secretary? I'm telling you now Sakura, you can't do it."
Yes, my ears were not mistaken. She did say I couldn't do it. Well, I'm just going to have to prove her wrong.
"Then I'll make time! I haven't even gotten the job yet. How will I know if I can do it or not if I haven't even had the chance to try? I can do it mom. Trust me, I can do it." I puff out my chest and give my mom the most determined look I could muster, hoping she'd finally surrender and put an end to her useless worrying. She stares back at me with equally determined eyes. Emerald clashes with emerald, only I know my eyes are a deeper shade of green. After what feels like an eternity, but is actually a span of thirty seconds, my mom closes her eyes and her shoulders slump in defeat with a tired sigh. I would have whooped for joy right then and there if I wasn't a mature adult about to embark on her journey as an intern at a hospital with a five-point-eight death percentile rate. Instead, I wrap my arms around my mom's neck and give her a soft kiss on the cheek while another me jumps and cartwheels in my mind.
"Thanks mom."
"Yeah, yeah, I concede but on one condition." Jeez, she always has to have a condition. My mini me inside my head stops mid-cartwheel on her hands and falls onto her back.
I unwrap myself from my mom and stare at her warily. Usually, whenever my mom makes conditions, they're almost always numerous conditions melded into one long condition.
"You have to promise me that if you feel like you can't handle it anymore, or if I see that your health is deteriorating because of the work load, you must quit your job as a secretary and focus solely on your internship." She stares at me pointedly.
"But mom-!"
"Do you understand me young lady?" Her eyes were glinting emeralds with the hardness of diamonds. I sigh in defeat, and my alter ego folds her arms across her chest and pouts. Goddamn my mom is so pushy.
"Fine, I promise." I grumble lowly, not happy at all that my mom has successfully gotten her way, though small, but her way nonetheless. How am I supposed to be independent if my mom can still affect me like this?
"Good, now can I please set the table for dinner, or do you have other ambitions you'd like to surprise me with?"
Just to mess with her and humor myself, I rub my chin and look upwards at the ceiling in a thinking pose. When I look back at my mom, her eyes are wide and fearful. Jeez mom, I'm ambitious but not that ambitious.
"Relax mom, I don't have anything else up my sleeve, so you can go ahead and finish setting the table."
My mom releases the breath she was holding in. Is it that bad of me to want to be independent and self-sufficient? I shake my head to clear my mind of depressing thoughts and help my mom finish prepping the table. First I set the eating mats, then the plates, the spoons and forks, knives, napkins, and finally the drinking glasses. It doesn't hurt that I also know how to cook, clean, and do my own laundry.
After dinner I kiss my mom and dad on their cheeks, mutter a soft "thank you," and head up to my room to work on my speech for graduation. Ah, such is the obligation of being valedictorian, but I'm not complaining. I happen to be very competitive in everything. Striving to be valedictorian was no exception.
I thank God every single day that I was born into a prosperous, well off family. We're not exactly practically-fifty-percent-of-our-house-is-made-of- gold rich, but we have enough to live comfortable, worry free lives.
I live in a large family home located in the suburbs of east Miami. It has five bedrooms and three-and-a-half bathrooms, but I'm an only child and it's only my parents and me living in the house. Sometimes I ask my parents why they felt like they needed to buy such a big house with only three people in our household, and every time my mom would say, "It's not that we needed to, we wanted to."
Although I think it's totally unnecessary to purchase a large family home with only one child, I'm still grateful.
My room is located on the second floor next to the den, or as my dad likes to call it, his "man cave." Hmm, men are strange. My room isn't the standard girl's room. I don't have brightly painted walls or posters of naked famous men, and I certainly don't have frilly objects. I shudder to think if my room was ever like that. Instead, my room's walls are white with one accent wall painted a deep burgundy. My floors are a deep colored wood and my furnishings are simple like me.
Once I'm in my room I head straight for my sleek and silver MacBook Pro sitting on my desk, and I fire it up. As I wait for the welcome screen to show up I think about what I want to say in my speech. I want it to be short, to the point, humorous, and unique without all the clichés of speech-making. If there's one thing I'm not good at, it's speaking in front of large crowds. I groan loudly as I fire up Microsoft Word and begin my hopefully awe-inspiring speech. Jeez, whoever started the tradition of speech making at graduations is so lame at this moment.
It's the first morning after graduation, I'm lying on my bed, and I feel so giddy with many different emotions: happiness, excitement, and contentment just to name a few. Graduation was, for lack of a better term, emotional. I usually don't cry for any apparent reason, small or big, but a few tears did slip down my cheek against my will yesterday. In one curt sentence, all the graduating med students were ecstatic to finally be done with med school, and everyone loved my speech. It turns out, imagining everyone in the audience wearing nothing but underwear can really help a person deliver an amazing speech.
After graduation my parents took me out to dinner at my favorite Italian restaurant in east Miami. It's a cute little niche in the wall, a modest family-run business that serves authentic, delicious Italian food at reasonable prices, and it fits my style perfectly. I was able to peacefully eat dinner yesterday without having to worry about whether someone from my school was going to walk in every second. That's the beauty of niches in the wall: they're niches in the wall so no one really knows about them. Don't get me wrong, I love people, especially kids, but there are some aspects of my life that I enjoy alone or with my select precious people.
I have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming. It seems so unreal that just eight years ago I graduated from high school with the dream to become a surgeon, and now I'm an Alumni of KU's Senju College of Medicine and about to begin the final stage of fulfilling my dream. Of course, reality will come crashing down again when I begin my internship at Konoha Grace Hospital, but I'm willing to bask in my after-graduation bliss for three more days, which is how many days I have left until I begin my internship. Whoever said the adult life sucked wasn't kidding, it sucks.
I close my eyes and begin to drift off into sleep, but something pulls at my mind and stirs my thoughts. It eggs me to open my eyes and stay awake, as if I have something important to take care of. I furrow my brows in thought, my eyes still shut closed, and bite my bottom lip as I try to recall if there's some kind of major event happening today. It's the day after graduation, so what could I possibly do today? I mull over it for several more seconds before I shoot up in bed, wide-eyed and alert.
I can feel the panic slowly building as I snatch my iPhone 4S from my bedside table and check my calendar. It says yesterday was graduation and today is, oh damn, today is my interview with the President and CEO of Uchiha Corporations at eight am! My eyes zone in on the time in the upper right-hand corner of my iPhone's screen and I almost scream when it reads seven-thirty am. Hastily I jump out of bed, uncaring of my messy sheets, and sprint into my bathroom to quickly wash my face and brush my teeth.
I groan loudly as I plunge my toothbrush into my mouth and vigorously pump it up and down. How could I have forgotten? Ugh, it's the high of graduating from med school. It made me forget. Jesus, I'm going to take one step into Mr. Uchiha's office and be told to get lost.
Vaguely, I wonder why I have a direct interview with Mr. CEO-President-Uchiha himself instead of HR. It's odd, strange, and unorthodox to say the least. Why would the CEO and President of a multi-billion dollar company conduct interviews directly with his potential employees? It just doesn't make sense.
I banish the thoughts from my mind and focus on getting ready. Running into my closet, I snatch the professional outfit I planned weeks ago from its hanger and put it on. It's nothing fancy, just a charcoal gray pencil skirt and blazer with a white blouse underneath, and matching charcoal pumps. I put nothing on my face because I despise make-up. The revolting substances feel thick and heavy on my skin. Chancing a quick look in the mirror, I see that my hair is in disarray and weigh my two options to either fix it, or leave it as it is. I choose the second option. I've never really cared about my appearance. I don't need or care about other people's opinions of what I look like. As long as I know who I am and what I want in life, then I'm straight.
With my pumps in hand, I run down the stairs and to the front door, almost colliding into my mom on the way there.
"Ah, Sakura sweetie you scared me. Why are you in such a rush?" My mom looks at me confusingly, but I only give her a one-worded answer, "Interview."
Thankfully, it's enough to remind her of my ambitions and she continues on with whatever task had her preoccupied.
My dad is already at work so I don't have to worry about saying goodbye to him. Once I'm at the door I ram my feet into my pumps and yell out a goodbye to my mom before I practically rip the front door open and run as fast as I can to my car.
I drive a pearl white Chevrolet Volt. It's nothing fancy like an expensive sports car, but it's my car and I chose it for various reasons. One of them is because I am a firm advocate of protecting and preserving the environment and limited resources of planet Earth. I mean, if humans want to continue procreating on Earth, they're going to need to make sure it's still going to exist in the next millennia or so. Another reason I chose my car is because of the fact that I don't like flashy things. I'm not trying and will never try to impress anyone, so what's the point?
I push fifty on the residential streets and ninety on the freeway. I glance at my car's dashboard clock. It reads seven-forty. Hmm, it's not bad for waking up at seven-thirty. If I continue to push ninety I might be able to make it to the parking lot by seven-fifty which will give me ten minutes to make it to Mr. Uchiha's office. I just hope I don't get pulled over by the NYPD.
It seems God pities me this morning because no cops stop me on my insane one hundred miles per hour driving rush. I realized at seven-forty-five that I wasn't going to make it by seven-fifty if I kept at ninety, so I boosted to one hundred. It's amazing how my fuel efficient, earth friendly Chevy Volt can breeze like a sports car. Hmm, suck it fancy sport cars! My car is fuel efficient and a beast on the road. I can't believe I just thought that. The adrenaline must be getting to me.
My calculations are correct because I arrive at the parking lot at exactly seven-fifty. Well, seven-fifty-one but I still count it as seven-fifty.
When I run into the lobby of Uchiha Corporations' main headquarters building, the breath is knocked right out of my lungs. The building is magnificent. Four stone pillars are placed smartly around the lobby to make it appear as if they're holding up the rest of the building. Giant, ornate crystal chandeliers sparkle brilliantly and hang from the lobby's high ceilings. As I click-clack to the front desk I notice that the ground is a mosaic of glossy black and white marble tiles with veins of solid gold running in between them. My mouth literally drops open when I catch sight of a fountain with bubbling water in the exact center of the lobby. I'm unaware that I've reached the front desk, too shocked by the grandeur and majesty of the building, and am brought back to attention when a pretty brunette who looks to be in her mid-thirties coughs loudly. I have to dig my nails into the palms of my hands to completely snap out of my daze.
"May I help you?" Her voice is kind of high-pitched, but warm and kind.
"Um yes, would you please locate me to Mr. Uchiha's office? I have an interview with him at eight am and I'm almost late. Please help me out!" I almost, with emphasis on the almost, beg the last part.
"Oh yes, Ms. Haruno I presume?"
"That's me!"
"Great, your interview will be held on the forty-ninth floor. Go ahead and take any of the elevators, then punch the number forty-nine once you're inside. The receptionist on that floor will direct you from there. Just tell her your name. Our computers have it stored for your interview. Good luck Ms. Haruno." She ends her directions with a kind smile which I gladly reciprocate.
When I approach the elevators, I have to gape for the second time that day. Jesus, even the elevators are made of solid gold. It's insane!
As I'm waiting for the elevator to come, I feel a presence suddenly appear behind me.
"So, where are you headed?" A baritone voice asks me. I turn around and find a really attractive blond man standing with his hands clasped behind his head. He's half a head taller than me, perfectly tan, and has the prettiest blue eyes I've ever seen. They remind me of the ocean, dazzling and bright. I'm so lost in his eyes that I forget he asked me a question, and I blush when he has to repeat himself.
"Oh, um, I'm headed for the forty-ninth floor." I decide not to tell him I have an interview with the head honcho, and he thankfully doesn't press for why.
"Cool! I'm headed there too. Do you mind if I share your elevator with you?" He smiles a beautiful, dazzling smile and I almost drool. I'm a real sucker for men with nice smiles. On another note, is he really asking to ride the elevator with me? It's not like I own it or anything.
"Uh, sure." I say a little hesitantly. He frowns.
"You sound like you don't want me to so I'll take the next one."
"Oh no, it's not like that. It's just, I've never been asked by someone if they could share the elevator with me. I mean, it's not like I own it or anything."
The handsome blond man opens his mouth to respond but the ding signaling the elevator's arrival stops him. We both step in, fortunately no one else joins us, and I punch the button with an intricately drawn forty-nine on it.
"What floor?" I ask him out of politeness and good natured humor. He has a good sense of humor too because he starts grinning.
"Why, thanks for asking miss. Floor number forty-nine please!"
"Oh, same floor as me sir!" I laugh as I hit forty-nine again. When I turn to him again he's smiling at me with his beautiful, dazzling smile and I feel saliva building up in my mouth. Jesus, is it me or is it getting hot in this elevator?
Feeling like I should do more than ogle him I initiate the conversation.
"Um, my name is Sakura Haruno. It's nice to meet you!" I offer my hand out to him and he doesn't hesitate to grab it. His hand is big and warm, comforting, and his grip is firm.
"Hi! I'm Naruto Uzumaki, believe it!" He shakes my hand enthusiastically which causes my arm and the rest of my body to shake.
Oh dear, he's hyperactive.
So that's the prologue and first chapter! Hopefully, you guys enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Review, follow, or do whatever as long as I know you're at least somewhat interest in my story!