It was a small and quiet room that overlooked the courtyard below bustling with people who were just setting out to enjoy the crisp air of the first days of spring. The light came low, distorted by the expensive blown glass panels, at just the right angle and it illuminated the shelves upon shelves of books that she used for information. It was early in the morning, only about six o'clock, but she had been inspired and gotten up early to come in. Now she set her heavy shoulder bag down on her designated desk and sat down in her softly cushioned chair, sweeping her long skirts underneath her tucked feet so they wouldn't wrinkle.
For a moment she admired the view below, and then her eyes wandered to the stack of small burgundy leather bound books in front of her, at the back of the desk. She had to smile; her first book had sold wondrously. Apparently the women of Venice were craving angst filled, dramatic romance in their reading material as much as she craved it in her daily life. It was a shame that she would never be recognized personally for her skill by any of the large publishing companies that were cropping up these days, but knowing that her fans knew her as the elusive and forbidden female writer Hana was good enough for her. Since female writers were highly frowned upon, especially females of the noble families such as hers, her mentor had offered to take her place as the author on the cover while she signed each book at the end with the penname Hana. He then went to one of the smaller publishing houses, and had a large amount of the books published, and quickly the women of Venice ate them up like good chocolate.
She didn't know how he had managed to sell them so fast, or what he had said to the publishing house to get them to print the book. All she knew was that the other authors from the area who stopped by to see the older man all called him the puppeteer of writing. As she was pulling out her folders on her latest books, the very man walked up the staircase and placed a steaming mug of tea in front of her.
"Good morning Sasori, opening shop early today?" She asked him as she pulled out her ink, blotter and feather pen. All of those had been gifts to her from Sasori when he congratulated her on selling her first book. She was taking a huge risk, by defying the noble standards and writing stories instead of poetry like most noble women did. If her father, Gin Haruno ever found out, he would possibly disown her. It didn't help that they had never been on good terms with each other.
He chuckled. "No, but I woke up when I heard you singing softly as you walked up the staircase. It was cute and you have a very fine voice, but do you have to do such things so early? You do remember how thin the walls are in this building, don't you?"
Sakura let her head slip and hit against the table, and a blush formed on her cheeks. She had been so caught up in the details of the plot for her new story that she had completely forgotten that Sasori slept in the room on the opposite side of the store downstairs. "I'm so sorry, I just had this new idea and-"
"Yes, yes. That's fine Sakura. I know what you're like when you're brainstorming anyways. Completely oblivious of what's going on around you. It's absolutely adorable." Her faced turned a deeper red, and she pulled her arms up over her head. "Maybe I'll just go back to sleep for a while" she mused.
"Nonsense, you have a book to sell. If you want to change into something more comfortable, go ahead. That corset must be killing you, but when you're done I need you to wrap up chapter five to Sai can illustrate. He'll be here in a few hours to start his work."
Sai was one of the few other people who knew that she was a writer, and was okay with it. He made his living as an illustrator, and worked on portrait paintings when he had the time, flourishing in the whirlwind of artistic appreciation that had flooded their country so recently. He enjoyed her work, and in a greater sense enjoyed her company as he didn't much like socializing, and she kept mostly to herself except when she needed advice. As such, he had no intentions of ratting out her true identity to the press or her family, and to that she was grateful.
Taking in Sasori's words, Sakura looked down at her clothing and cursed her mother's taste. Sakura had fine skin, like porcelain, and soft pink hair the color of cherry blossoms. She had gotten her hair from her mother and her skin from her father, and while she was the object of many a man's desires, at eighteen, her mother still felt compelled to dress her like a doll. Every morning, Sakura would wake up early to try and dodge the maids before they could come in and dress her, and every morning, her mother thwarted her attempt. Today she was wearing a deep crimson corset with white lace, and a velvet underdress of the same color, to fight off the lingering winter chill. Her overdress was a shear pink that showed off her slim waist and curvaceous hips. The white sleeves of her blouse could be seen under the crimson hem, and the layers were heavy and unwanted on her back.
At least Sakura had taken up the French style of hair trimmings a year ago, and had hers cut short, falling to her chin. Wispy bubble gum bangs framed her cheeks on each side of her face, and she thought that it looked very attractive, exotic even. It also helped since she was undeniably flat chested, even with a corset on. She found that the revolutionists seemed to like her style, while the royalists, like her parents, found it unbecoming. Her mother had refused to look at her for a week when she saw her daughter's long tresses lobbed off so suddenly.
Taking Sasori's advice, she got up and headed down the staircase, into the main store. Here, the lighting shone more brightly illuminating rows of books, and other media in all shapes and sizes. Some books were crisp and new, while others were so dated that they smelled finely of dust and slight mold. Maps lined the walls and the hardwood shelves were stained a dark brown, giving the store a warmth that the customers loved. It was a cozy place, far more enjoyable than the cold hard stone floors and cold stares she received at her parent's town house. She was lucky that her parents had let her apprentice under the well-known Sasori, even if they thought he was simply teaching her poetry.
She found Sasori seated behind the counter reading a book with an orange jacket, and her eyes narrowed perceivably. "Don't you dare tell me you're reading that Bastard's books again, are you?" Sasori shifted his eyes towards hers. "I'm merely checking out your competition. You have to remember that Jiraya has been writing for many more years than you, and has much more experience in the field of romance. You could learn a thing or two from him." That earned him an indignant snort.
"I know full well those books are mostly filled with smut to please single men who can't find a woman of their own." She couldn't resist poking fun at him. He wassingle, but only because he was so dedicated to his work. His handsome red hair and feminine facial structure would be nice enough, but he was also tall and lean, with nice and firm muscles for a writer. Women often lingered in the shop when he was behind the desk, trying to catch his attention.
He frowned, but refused to grace her with an answer. Instead, he assumed she was here to change clothes. "If you're looking to get out of those ridiculous garments, you may use my room. In the top drawer are the tunic and breeches that you usually borrow, so you can just wear those. I don't know why you won't let me buy you some boys clothing though, mine are way too big for you."
She smiled cheekily at him, and danced off towards his door, calling out behind her. "Perhaps it inspires me!" He laughed lightly then went back to reading.
In Sasori's room, Sakura quickly grabbed the clothes from the dresser and threw them on his bed. He had a window that overlooked the road outside, and she drew the heavy curtains closed. Once that was done, she pulled her overdress off and tossed it into a corner of the room in disgust and began unlacing her bodice. She was halfway finished when the door opened, and she spun around panicked. Sasori would never let anyone come in here, and he had never tried anything beyond meaningless flirtations before.
Her breasts were half exposed to the cool air that had wafted in from the opened door, as she nervously tried to get her fingers to start lacing the corset back up again. They wouldn't work; she was trembling too much. Soon enough she felt warmth beside her, and recognized Sasori's outline. Hopefully he couldn't see her too much with the lighting, and she tried to cover herself as he reached his hands out towards her. What the hell are you doing?She thought, angry and afraid.
He leaned in, and whispered in her ear. "I don't know who it is, but there is a man in the shop waiting for you to come downstairs. I figured it best for you to actually come from downstairs, and to still be wearing the clothes you left in." With his explanation, she managed to feel more relaxed yet more anxious at the same time. "Don't worry, I have a hidden staircase in the back of the room that you can take, but you need to hurry and get your clothes back on."
Sakura blushed, despite the dark. This was always the hardest part, because at home the maids helped her. She didn't know how presentable she would look if she rushed. "I-I don't usually do this myself. When I put these back on I always get to take my time, and I let light in, I don't-"
Without a word he put a finger to her lips and then pushed her arms aside. His hands, nimble from writing so frequently, went about lacing up her front with a speed even her maid hadn't mastered. For a moment, one of his fingers brushed lightly against one of her rosy buds, and a rush of heat spread down to the very pit of her stomach. Then once again, his other hand lightly grazed her other breast, and the sensation only made the heat worse. She started to feel a longing she had only ever written about and immediately scolded herself, saying now reallywasn't the time for these feelings.
She blinked the thought away and he was done; now searching around for her over-gown. She walked quickly to where she had thrown it, and tried helplessly to smooth out the wrinkles that had formed. Deciding she was wasting her time, she put the garment on, and then followed him to a small panel where he flipped a switch. A door swung open, and she took only a moment to look back at him.
"Grab all of your things, Sakura. He seems to know you, so he's probably either a friend or family. He won't tell me what this is about, other than that it was very important and you needed to hurry."
The warmth still hadn't faded from her core, and her cheeks were still on fire, but she thanked him and hurried up the stairs, finding herself in between two book cases. She hurried to gather up her things, and then pulled herself together. Taking a couple of deep breaths, she slowed down her breathing and schooled her features.
As she descended down the stairs, she could hear a young man arguing loudly with Sasori, who was trying to placate him.
"Where is Sakura nee-chan! Master, we need to hurry!" He shouted.
Oh boy, she knew that voice, and while she might have been happy to see him another time, right now she really wasn't up to it. Her mood darkened as she wondered if there was really any emergency, or whether he had concocted the story so she would come and spend time with him.
"Naruto, calm down. Now." The older boy turned at the sound of her voice and smiled with a worried look on his face. That made her nervous; Naruto never looked worried about anything expect maybe his history lessons.
She turned to Sasori, and found it hard to meet his eyes as once again a slight heat rose to her cheeks. "I'll be going then. I don't know what's going on, or when I'll be able to stop by next, but if things are as bad as I think they might be, I'll send someone with news."
Sasori nodded, and looked towards the blond haired youth who was causing such a scene in his store. Discreetly, Sakura took his arm and towed him into the street, and heard Sasori sigh in contentment at being left in peace. Naruto was her childhood friend, and had lived with her family ever since his family was taken by the plague several years back. He was like a brother to her, and he stood out as much as she did.
Naruto had bleach-blond hair, and slightly golden, sun-kissed skin. His eyes were an electric shade of blue that matched well with the blue silk tunic he wore. When he was younger, he had kept his hair shorter than hers, but these days he let it grow to his shoulders, and tied it back with a blue ribbon. He was also about a head and a half taller than her, and he tended to have to fend off the ladies. He liked to flirt more than anyone she knew, but he was incredibly serious about his studies at the university, and his philosophies and ideals were becoming increasingly popular around Venice.
"So, what is so important that you have to bother my master, ne?"
"Mother says I may not speak to you of it, for fear that you'll run away and never come back." He looked even more upset than he had at the store, and Sakura wracked her brain for anything that could ever make her go to those measures. "Will you leave me, Sakura-chan?"
"I'll always be here for you." She reached up and tugged his head down, then ruffled his hair playfully. "How would you handle mother without me, anyways?"
"Eh, it would be a challenge" He replied, seeming to have relaxed again. "I would probably need a lot of rope, and small children to feed her when she got hungry"
Sakura laughed heartily, and they continued to joke until they got home. Their Tudor house was in the merchant style of three story stucco, with a tiled roof and glass window panes. It was those little features, however, that relayed that they were more than just merchants, or so their parents liked to believe. Although the era of castles and monarchies had come to an end, Gin and Momo Haruno couldn't accept it. They were royalists, people who had come from noble blood and felt that the merchants were taking over. They distrusted the democratic system, and constantly made life for the revolutionaries harder, those of which included their children.
Naruto opened the door for her, and they went straight into the parlor area. In the sitting room waited her mother, and two strangers, "You may go now, Naruto." She said crisply. "Sakura, introduce yourself."
Entering the room, Sakura faced a young man, about two years older than her, and a woman who was most likely his mother. The man had hard onyx eyes and wore traditional Tudor clothing, with raven black hair that fell long in the front to frame a beautifully chilling face, and that was cut shorter in the back. The woman had similar features, except she was in a gown similar to the one Sakura wore in dark blue. The woman's hair framed her face like her son's, but fell long down her back, smooth and straight, to end just before touching the chair she was sitting on.
Quickly Sakura pulled one slipper-covered foot behind her, and then held a corner of her dress lightly in each of her hands. With the grace of years of practice, she curtsies low and long, showing her respect to the obviously noble visitors. Her parents rarely invited merchants, so they had to be noble, not to mention they had a familiar aura about them. She was just confused as to why shewas called here. She never had had anything to do with her mother's politics before.
"I'm Sakura Haruno, it's a pleasure to make the acquaintance."
The woman eyed her over like she was an object in a store that she was going to buy, looking for any flaws or marks that made her undesirable. At last she nodded towards her son, who then looked her over much the same way. He, however, seemed to find her wanting which irritated Sakura slightly.
"What hobbies do you have, Lady Sakura?" He asked in a voice that was as deep as a bottomless lake, and just as cold.
"I rather like poetry," she said, being honest. "I also practice portrait art, but it's nothing more than something to pass the time. I'm also currently studying French."
He nodded his head, appreciating her answer. His mother turned to her then. "I am Mikoto Uchiha, and this is my son, Sasuke Uchiha." The boy stood and bowed, but the woman remained seated.
"It's an honor to meet the Uchiha," Sakura said delicately. Her eyes had gone as wide as saucers as she placed the face with the name and connected the dots. The Uchihawere the famous, wealthy and attractive old school royalists who had opened up the first bank in Venice. Her palms became sweaty as she started to realize where this was heading, and then understood why Naruto had said what he had. "May I offer you some tea?"
"Thank you, but no need." Mikoto answered. She then turned to Sakura's mother and smiled thinly. "We have decided, we agree on the arraignment."
"Mother, what arraignment have you decided upon in my absence?" Sakura asked, trying not to sound panicked as her stomach sank.
"You and Sasuke Uchiha are now engaged. The wedding will be held in two weeks, until then you will stay at their estate out towards the country and familiarize yourself with their way of life."
She was completely frozen. This wasn't happening to her, it couldn't be. She had her book, Sasori, and Sai whom she spent every day with. She had Naruto her brother whom she loved, and she had all of her fans who were patiently waiting for her next book to come out. She couldn't just up and leave them all! Words were being spoken to her, but she couldn't hear them. She couldn't marry another man, because she had already given her heart away.
The thought hit her like a ton of bricks, as she realized she had never acknowledged it before. There it was, her love, right there in her heart. A small bud waiting to bloom and she hadn't even done anything to nurture it. Did she really just realize her love now, or had she known? Had she known and been afraid?
Well, she couldn't be any more afraid than she was right now. The prospect of marrying some random man who acted just like her cold and uncaring father was terrifying to her. When she finally realized her mother was waiting for her to go upstairs and pack her necessary things, she nodded obediently and then fled.
In her room she hauled out a small bag, in which she tossed in some of the essential things she might need. She was panicking now, running through the options she had in her mind. In the end she buttoned the bag closed, with god knows what was in it. Picking up her own copy of the book she wrote, she scribbled a short message on the inside cover, and then snuck across to Naruto's empty room. She placed the book under his pillow, and then headed towards the servants stairs that led to the back garden. There was no way, not a chance in hell that she was going with those frigid people. She shuddered at the mere thought, as she paused at the door. She opened it an inch, and when the garden was clear she made her way to the back gate. From there she took side roads again until she was eventually returned to the door of the bookshop.
Luckily, there was only one customer when she entered. He was a man Sasori's age, although his silver hair suggested differently. He liked to sit in the chair by the window and spend all day reading, avoiding his wife. She walked over to him, and greeted him nervously. He was one of the few people that knew she wrote her own books, and she trusted the man.
"I need Sasori, is he here?" Kakashi didn't look up from his book, but nodded and pointed to the staircase. "Thanks, and don't let anyone who comes in know that I'm here, please."
"No problem, miss. I can't wait for your next book." And then she was gone up the staircase.
Sai still hadn't come in, and Sakura was immensely grateful. Sasori was working on cataloging some documents over at his desk in the corner, and when he turned around at the sound of her approach, his eyes widened. Tears were running down her face uncontrolled. Finally feeling safe she had let go the walls of the dam that had been holding them back. Her body convulsed, and she trembled again and again and sobs wracked her frame.
He was immediately at her side, holding her firm and comforting her and stroking her soft pink hair. He told her it would be okay, even though he didn't know what was wrong, and he murmured reassuring words to the girl that had never once so much as become depressed. Her weakened state shocked him, but didn't bother him as much as crying girls usually did.
"Sakura, tell me what happened."
And so she did. She told him everything from how nervous Naruto had been to having to sit through the interrogation from the North Pole. Sasori waited until she was finished, and looked her in the eye. "Your mother. She went too far this time, didn't she?"
"I just can't do it." She let another sob out, and he held her even tighter.
"Don't be so rash, Sakura. I understand how hard this is, but you need to think this over before you run off for good." Sasori couldn't say it, but he was just as scared as Naruto about losing her.
"How about you stay with me for a few days? You'll have some time to think, and we won't tell anyone you're here except Sai."
"Thank you" She closed her eyes, and rested her head against his chest. "Thank you, Sasori."
That night Naruto lay in bed, stunned with shock that mother had actually treated Sakura like an animal up for sale. A hole also sat in his heart, where the promise that Sakura had broken took a bitter piece of him. The person he loved most in the world had just vanished on him, without even saying goodbye. Sure, he knew it was going to happen, but it still hurt.
Rolling over and trying to get more comfortable, his head hit something hard. He reached his hand under his pillow and pulled out a small leather bound book, one he saw Sakura often reading. He opened it, wondering what could be so fascinating about a silly romance novel, and stopped when he saw that there was something written inside the first page.
To Naruto,
I'm sorry I had to leave, but I need some time to think. I would have broken my promise anyways, since mother wanted to send me away tonight. Anyways, I'd like you to read this book written by 'Hana', dedicated to her brother Naruto. It's a romance novel, but it also follows the life of a young woman trying to live above the restraints of society, and her parents. I really did dedicate this book to you, Naruto, so keep it with you always. And always, I will be with you.
Lovingly, Sakura
Tears fell down the boy's face and left marks on the letter. How much did he really know of his younger sister? What other secrets did she have? Still, he was grateful that she had left him such a wonderful parting gift.