She Hadn't Really Lied, Right?
Chapter 1:
She never knew how she made it in; but she did. The girl whom used to walk with a slight slouch in her shoulders now strolled tall and proud around the police headquarters. Well... not exactly 'tall,' but you get what I mean. For her age, she could be a much bigger height, and possess a much bigger frame. That was, of course, if she were to deal with criminals face to face. Y'know, the dangerous, infamous ones who could look at you and you'd shit your pants. But she only dealt with the files for now. The manilla folders she scrolled through, yeah, they all looked the same to a person passing by; but to the trained cop eye, it was like each one was a brand new world. Each case, each word, each picture, they represented something. They represented the inner workings of the sinister mind of the criminal. Those guilty of copycat, inchoate and transnational organized crime, financial and political crime, virtual crime, and drug crime all wormed their way into her cases tonight.
From the age of 11, nobody knew just why the girl had gone through the papers at her daddy's office at work. Nobody even knew how she got there. Completing a 10 mile drive from their broken down apartment complex in Konoha was a bitch when you rode in a 1980 Ford Fairmont station wagon that broke down every 3.4 seconds. Yeah, he counted. The sputtering engine would last a good 2 or 3 miles, would halt, then sputter more. But somehow she managed it, albeit with her rich friend's aid. Arriving at the police station 5 minutes early, daddy found his kid daughter rustling through the compartments where he kept his top-secret cases. And at that moment he knew his precious little girl found her passion. With the bright sparkle in her eyes while sifitng through the 'expense account padding' cases, anyone could tell you that. But that didn't mean he didn't argue with her about it first. Like hell he would go to the grave without warning his kid about that dangers of this profession.
And contend he did. He executed it in a blunt fashion, because, well, that was just how Kizashi Haruno was. Now that the man looked back on it, he realized that he may have used the wrong choice of words; well, nobody had ever accused him of having rhetoric charm. But back then, back when he found his sweet little girl digging though his documents, he was pissed. Hell yeah, he was fuckin' furious. She could grow up to be a doctor, or a lawyer, or anything, but she had to choose her daddy's line of work. And he hadn't even influenced her in the slightest fashion about becoming an officer of the law. At the dinner table, his wife would deftly avoid conversation aboutgthe latest malefactor her husband had dealt with that afternoon, and instead replaced in with cheerful talk about the patients the she had helped at the hospital that morning. His daughter would say nothing, but now Kizashi realized that with every word that would come out of his mouth, she would tip her chair just a little bit closer and would lean her head just a tad bit nearer. She hid her interest fucking well back then, he thought to himself. Then again, she was sharp... sharper then most kids in the shady elementary school he was forced to enroll her in. The school that was closest to them was 3 miles, a 45 minute walk at the most. It was in their district; it was easier on the whole family and easier on their shitty car for her to walk to school.
So, they were a poor family... and yes, I mean very unfortunate. You might think that a daddy cop and a mommy doctor would make a great financial team. Well it does, It really does, honestly, except when you live in the degenerate downtown suburbs in the lovely city of Konoha, Japan. It was lovely, you'd just have to look in the right places. A flower shop here, a neat little cafe there; hell, they even had free wifi. Not that it mattered, because right now she had a Nokie 5110 in hand. Yay, unlimited wifi and calling! It didn't matter anyways. She never stopped at the coffee place anyways after work. preferring just to relax and unwind in her tub after a long day's employment. But let it be known that slacking never got her to where she was today. So here she was, at 3 AM, analyzing the most recent investigation about some dude named Orochimaru, last name unknown. Yellow eyes, black hair, white skin; he was the definition of a snake. Wanted for kidnapping too, the sick bastard. Not for ransom, though, or even false imprisonment... and that's what made cases like this terrifying. The kids people like him stole either ended up alive, tortured, and beaten. And the other option, well, I think you get it. Most of the latter were emptied out into a river or some body of wayer, their limbs cut off and their eyes gouged out. At least, that's the cases the she had heard of...
He hadn't been seen for a couple of years now, come to think of it. She scanned the paper and read the bottom, where in black bold print, it said 2012. No recent investigation had been instigated against this little shit since 2 and a half years ago. It wasn't that the Konoha police station was lazy. They were just unnerved by the sight of this guy, and wanted nothing more then to leave him be. Appearance really was everything when it came to criminals. You wouldn't expect a blonde headed, pig-tailed, 4'3 little girl to murder a grandma right? Right. Would you expect a 6'4 man with waist length black hair, lemon eyes, and a bloody forked tongue to abduct a child? Abso-fucking-lutely. That was the problem nowadays with officers, she thought to herself. They needed to grow a backbone for Christ's sake. But she knew why there were scared, all because of an incident that happened damn near ten years ago, back in 2002. She wasn't there for it; only 5 years old, still in diapers, and sucking happily on a pacifier.
The men Sakura Haruno worked with had all mostly come from a rough, edgy background, like herself. That made her appreciative of their aptitude concerning law enforcement. Could've turned out a lawbreaker, accused of tax fraud. Could've been wanted for embezzlement. But they had hearts of gold, even though it may not have seemed like it outwardly. But hey, physical appearance was everything right? She thought numbly to herself as she focused more closely on Orochimaru's case. The dim lights in her cramped compartment flickered, in a fashion much like the cliche run-down streetlamps do in Detroit. The officer boys were long gone, since midnight. They had shuffled out in a hurry, eager to watch the Baseball World Series on their 20 inch box televisions. If Sakura recalled correctly, it was the Cubs vs. the Cardinals.
The silver-haired, middle aged man never really was into sports, as he watched his friend trip over his own heels in a rush to get to his crappy Ford. Long before he left for work that morning, Gemna told his girlfriend to pause the game so that he could watch it after work. And by after work, she thought the meant around 1 AM. And now it's 30 past 3, and she's tapping her heeled foot impatiently in the threshold as she sees the truck roll up into the driveway. He always had a habit of being late to events, he thought to himself as he scratched his head and chuckled. Then again, he couldn't talk either. He arrived to the party when the birthday-girl had just retired for the night. Oh hell, that was a day to remember. At age 17, he had promised his girlfriend on her sweet 16 that he'd be the first to get there and the last to leave. A hard slap to the face and a sting of profanities later, it turned out to be the opposite. With Gemna gone for the next 7 hours, Kakashi had no choice but to leave himself; they were working on a case together, and the brunette had wanted him to wait until the could work side-by-side on this criminal investigation. A man by the name of Orochimaru was the problem. Crime: kidnapping. 7 kids, to be exact. The latest one was two weeks ago, and the woman who had seen it happen described him right down to a tee.
Kakashi was in charge of keeping things orderly around the station. Which was ironic, because if one would look into his apartment, that one would find sake bottles, porn novels, shower towels, and dirty clothes strewn about the floor. But her never told his commanding officers that, because he thinks they already know. By "keeping things orderly," you would think that they meant straightening up crooked compartments, shutting files, ordering said files, and sweeping the dead roaches off of the checkered black and white tile, but that's not really it. As one of the oldest working members there, he hailed great respect from the lower-ranking officers. Been shot 20 times and one time actually, and still lived. Successfully captured and imprisoned 25 B-rank criminals and 47 C-rankers in a duration of 10 years, which was pretty damn good for a guy with one eye and a hunched back. By "keeping things orderly," he knew that the meant to check up on his fellow cops and to make sure nothing illegal was happening in the office, because you can pretty much take advantage of your position in the police world. If you had the wits to actually carry it out, that is. And Kakashi believed that only a select few, ones that he personally could name, could do that.
It was now nearing 4, so he thought he should head off for the night to be welcomed warmly by an empty apartment and a full bottle of sake. That was, until on his way out to the door, his peripheral caught onto somethings tan and wouldn't let go. Which was odd, because he had been drowned in the color all day. But it was a familiar manilla hue, and he recognized it almost immediately. After a few moments of snapping his fingers and brain-storming, he remembered that it was his and Gemna's Orochimaru case. That was odd, because Kakashi remembered specifically that he had left it on his desk an hour ago. With a shrug of his badly bent shoulders, he blamed it on the alcohol from yesterday, and ambled out into the cold darkness.
She left before that officer could have reprimanded her from staying so late. And shit, she forgot snake-boy's case in her hurry to get away from his nearing footsteps. She had wanted to study it off-hours to see if she could gain a clue to his whereabouts or of his victims. Sakura guessed that she could pick up on it again today, bright and early at 6:30, when the doors usually opened. And then she also realized she forgot her favorite, beaten down, red, wool, trench coat (yeah, the one with some of the buttons missing), as the winter wind snipped at her bare wrists. Oh, and rule number one about being a police officer, never EVER wear your uniform in public alone at night without a gun. Haha, yeah, Sakura was doing just that. She had majored in Crime Investigation and Law Enforcement, came out number 1 in her class at age 16, and graduated from college after 1 year in the top percentile at age 17, but she still couldn't remember the golden rule of her profession? She blamed it on her lack of street smarts and her proficiency with book smarts. At 35 degrees, lightweight khakis and a long sleeved polyester shirt just wouldn't do it tonight. Her teeth chattered, and if she started running, she would die of hypothermia before she even go to her parent's duplex. Her phone wasn't much help either, the piece of shit. But there weren't many people around, just a stray or two looking for a local pub most likely, so Sakura's chanced of getting mugged were of the minimum. But you could never be too careful. This was one of the many times that her daddy would yell at her for being out so late, on a night so cold, with barely any clothes protecting her from the whipping lash of the frost. But she persevered and made it home, because that was just the way she was now. Independent, and she liked it alot.
Well, she did like it, until she saw her mom in the doorway, with a hand on her voluptuous hips, donning a disapproving frown. Well, damn. She almost made it without capturing the unwanted attention of the parents. Funny thing, even though their daughter had a job like theirs, paying the same and taking the same talents, they still treated her like a little girl. Sakura wasn't an adult yet, but she wasn't a child either. She wasn't stupid or blind either; she knew that they had never wanted her to grow up this fast. They wanted her to go out and have fun with friends, and party. Have a normal teenage life. But Kizashi and Mebuki could never have provided that for her, not with their crumbling financial situation. And Sakura knew that, because as I said, she wasn't blind. Maybe she didn't have strong street smarts, but she had common sense when it came to these things. So she picked up the slack and helped provide in any way she could, physically, financially, and emotionally. It was tasking, she knew, for her mom and dad to have to come home to roaches, weathered sofas, and a broken microwave and dishwasher. So she got up off her ass and graduated from college the week she turned 17. And damn, was that hard work.
She hopped up the creaky wooden stairs sheepishly (if you could do that, Sakura thought grimly), and was met with the glare of one Mebuki Haruno. Sakura was met with this particular glare quite frequently now that she had graduated and got a job; it said a million words. Cringing inwardly and preparing for the onslaught of words, she was surprised when the well-defined woman ran the little distance between them and tackled her daughter. By tackling, I mean a huge bear hug. A huge motherfucking bear hug, that crushed every organ in Sakura's body. The girl wondered idly if she had inherited her brute strength as her bones cracked beneath the sheer weight of affection. And wetness. Wait, what?
An uncontrollable sob racked through Mebuki's body as she held her baby as close as physically possible. Tears fell on Sakura's shoulder along with the blabbering mumbles that fell upon her ear. "Momma..." Sakura gripped her by the shoulders and looked into her water and salt glazed eyes. "I'm here, ok? I'm fine." As for effect, she twirled around so her mother could see that her daughter was untouched and not hurt. "Bu-but you pr-promised you'd be-be b-b-ack by 12," she sniffled out. She shook her head, recalling what she said at 7 AM this morning. "I said may or may not," and she tapped her mom's forehead. "Mommy, I'm here now, alright?"
Sakura knew how her mom worked. Pet names like mommy and momma worked magic on her and calmed her nerves down. It was just the aftermath that she didn't know how to deal with. The yelling, screaming, and the all-out tantrum she would throw when she was done crying. And Sakura knew it was coming soon, the way she dried her eyes on her sleeve, backed away, and resumed her original glare.
"The first freaking day, Sakura? Really? It's 4:35. AM. As in, in the fucking morning. Do you know how dangerous it is, walking at 4:30 AM where we live? BECAUSE IT'S REALLY FUCKING DANGEROUS. There are rapists, and muggers, and..." She broke down again. "You could've gotten hurt, and I don't know if I would've been able to take it..." She sobbed. Sakura stroked her hair, though it was pretty hard seeing that her mom was a head taller then herself. She shushed her and ushered her in the door of their complex, glad to be away from the bitter wind and biting cold, and sat her down on the forest green sofa they'd had since she was a baby.
"Why'd you do so much, just on the first day? What did you even do that kept you so long?"
"I guess I just lost track of time... Officer Yamato wasn't there today, by the way. So I didn't talk to anyone. I looked through the criminal files though, and I was attracted to this particular one..." her voice trailed off. But her green eyes shined with interest at the mention of the case, and Mebuki was taken aback. She knew that Sakura hadn't been 4 and a half hours late on purpose, she was just really excited about this career. Now she felt guilty about yelling earlier, and was on her way to apologize when her husband came in. Mrs. Haruno held up a hand when Mr. Haruno opened up his mouth. "She's already heard it, love." With a scowl, he chastised her anyways for good measure. It wouldn't hurt for his daughter to hear about the dangers of the law... seventy more times. You had to be thorough with these kinds of things. When your own blood was on the line everyday and you don't get to see them until midnight, you had to be sure that they knew what they were doing right and what they were doing wrong; he had been in this line of business for twenty-seven years, since four months ago. And she had just started. She was required to know the ins-and-outs if Kizashi had anything to say about it. He thought more and more about joining the building where she worked each day, just to keep a close eye on her; to make sure she was doing okay. Today was only her first day, though, and she wasn't a wreck as far as he could see. But he still had some questions first. "Yamato taught you the basics, I presume," he stated with a light tilt of his voice.
Officer Yamato was of average build, average eyes, average hair, but of honorable virtue. Each mission he took seriously, and he protected his officers with his life. Kizashi respected him greatly, and he was known for his stoic and calm demeanor when thrust into a hectic situation, like ransom calls and standpoints. Back in '96, him and Kizashi were partners for a few years, working well together in most cases. Yamato, the brain, and Kizashi, the brawn. That was, until Yamato slipped, fell, and pulled the trigger on his shin. His then partner had been there to witness the tragedy and the 2 year physical therapy sessions that followed. That was when Sakura's father had begun to branch off and complete solo work. So all-in-all, you could say it was a good thing that the accident occurred. Kizashi rose to head of police during that time, directing missions for the officers instead of taking them himself. But it was a bad things that the accident had happened, also. Mr. Haruno had began to become lazy, lounging comfortably in his small office while his men out there were dying on the job. He then realized that he needed to step up; for himself, and for his family. The reason he respected Sakura so much was for her strong will and her ability to not give up, like he did in his younger years. And he didn't want her to die soon. Not soon at all.
"He wasn't there today, daddy," she admitted quietly, still stroking her mother's hair. "He was out on investigating a nearby D.U.I., by the highway. But I still learned alot without him there. I self-taught myself for hours." He was mildly shocked; would no officers there help her? He knew that the amount of law force there was lacking, yes, but wasn't there somebody who would help a brand new girl on the job? She was 17, for God's sake. There must've been a kind soul who could've helped her getting around her compartment, and showing her the basic functions of everyday life in the station. One lazy man came to mind, who would've shown her what to do, but maybe was too busy managing the place. Or reading his dirty novels. He'd have to have a word with him soon.
"Are you going back there tomorrow... today, I mean? Right when it opens?" His deep voice rumbled throughout their small apartment room. It only had two rooms, if the bathroom counted as a room. The room that the family occupied, however, was a regular medium sized room, fit for two people. Well... times were tough, so they forced three in. The daughter had offered to sleep with a few sheets on the floor, to spare the parents back pain and future scoliosis. Honestly, she didn't mind; now, she thought, from today onward, she might be spending nights in the Konoha police station. They needed as much effort put into these cases as they could. "6:30, bright and early." A small frown adorned Kizashi's tired face. He and his wife exchanged looks, clearly having a poor opinion of their daughter's sleeping ritual. They wanted what was best for her all the time, even though they did a poor way of showing it at times.
"Just don't overwork yourself, okay Sak'?" Mebuki gently commanded her only child. "I want you to still retain a healthy schedule, alright? Make sure you get food, enough sleep, and time to yourself. You're only 17; don't push yourself to the brink of exhaustion just for our sake." She finished off her mini lecture with a scratch to the back of her pink-haired daughter's head. "And don't forget, no matter what happens, we will always love you." Hizashi chipped in, concern laced in his voice. Sakura Haruno smiled, albeit a very weak and tired one, but one nonetheless. She grabbed her parents by the shirts and pulled them in for a warm hug. After all, she was still freezing from her quick sprint in the cold, and their loving words thawed her frozen heart and raw skin.
She never knew how she made it in; but she did. The girl whom used to be made fun of for her overly large forehead had been accepted into one of the most prestigious colleges in the country. Y'know that feeling, when you don't know if something's real or not yet. You think it's a dream, because your whole mind goes numb, along with your body, and you just don't know what's happening. It was a dream, it had to be. Her hands trembled, the paper gripped loosely in her small fingers, afraid of gripping too tightly for fear of crumpling the precious document. The nice, thick paper; the ones that a professional artist would dip his paintbrush onto. Not like the white copy paper in her dad's shitty 80's fax machine. It was a nice, light tan color.
University of Tokyo
That was the name of the college. The building that rejected the people who had found a cure for some rare disease, like cancer. Well, not cancer. Nobody had the cure for that death disease. But that university, college, school, whatever the hell you wanted to call it, didn't just accept anyone. Only the best of the best could enter. Those who, at a tender age, spent years doing extra community work, studying 15 hours a day, and getting 105's and 104's in each class. Instead of going to play baseball with little Jimmy across the street, little Johnny would be locked up in his room, looking over the macroscopic quantum phenomena. Yeah. You had to do that to get into this university.
Dear Sakura Haruno,
Her hands were trembling even more at this point. Of course she knew she got in. A big, fat Yes! was planted right into the middle of the page. But she kept her eyes on each word, wanting to make this moment last forever. She scanned the top of the page, and saw 2013 was at the top.
We are happy to offer you an admission into the University of Tokyo and are ecstatic to welcome you as a student of the class of 2018.
Her parents had made sure to relish the moment. Being the sneaky devils they are, they set up two hidden video cameras in the apartment. When they took it out to show their star pupil later on, it looked... well, it looked like it was recorded with a potato. With a frame-rate of 24p and a severe lag that a turtle couldn't even match, it looked awful. Points for trying, Mebuki and Kizashi laughed to themselves, their crying daughter still racking up sobs in their arms. The couple exchanged happy grins, appreciative of the positive atmosphere that enveloped the room for once. No screaming, yelling, or threats of divorce permeated the air within the dirty walls. The next week, they sent her off to Tokyo, completely trusting in the care of the college professor that had offered to accompany her on the plane and show her around the school. Tearful goodbyes and hear-felt words ensued, knowing that they wouldn't see their little girl for 5 years at the most, and when she would come back, she would be unrecognizable; an adult. She would be 21 years old. Little did the Haruno pair know that their daughter had completely tricked them.
It wasn't like it was a bad trick, at all. It wasn't even a trick, she thought to herself as she sat comfortably in first-class, messing with the foreign gadgets in front of her. She didn't downright lie to them, and she had told them that she was studying and going to major in political science. Political science was the basis for Criminal Justice, right? Right. They thought she was going to be a lawyer. Well, a lawyer was the basis for a police officer, right? For years and years, the 16-year-old had outfoxed her parents, and feigned a great interest in the path of safe law. In reality, it was quite the opposite. The more and more Sakura thought about her dishonesty, the worse she felt. Then again... the more and more she thought about the profession of a cop, the better she felt. She'd just have to concentrate on that for now. Iruka Umino shifted uncomfortably from beside her.
If she were to describe him with a sentence, it'd be that he was big-hearted and soft-hearted, but never a pushover. Physically, he was average. Fine, tanned skin, with hair that he kept tied back in a tight, spiky, blackish-brown ponytail. The thing that made him stand out, however, was the grey scar that ran across the bridge of his nose. Professor Umino wasn't a chemistry teacher, so Sakura wondered how he had gotten such a mark. Maybe he was a rebel at a young age, big and bad in his youth. The conversation that happened between them was light, and non-personal. Just a few tips on what to expect there from him, and a large amount of thanks from her. It did, however, get just a little, teensy bit personal when he asked why she had deceived her parents, and got away with it like she did.
Maybe she shouldn't have been so blatantly obvious about the situation. Halfway on the plane ride, she got bored and whipped out her favorite book on Criminal Justice. But not before hiding it in front of a big ass magazine with the words THE ART OF POLITCIAL SCIENCE: KNOWING MORE plastered on the front. His innocent peaks had warped into knowing glances. He sighed, and pulled on his ponytail, engaging in talk for the first time in an hour. "You're a smart kid, I know. But I'm a little dissapointed. You could've just told them what your interests were in, instead of faking it and hiding it. It makes it harder on all of you, mostly on your parents though." He seemed completely calm, and he even leaned his head back on the luxury seats and closed his chocolate-brown eyes. She was only 16, and had a tendency to act before she thought. She wasn't the only one guilty; plenty of teenagers weren't innocent of the act. It was just his tone... it made her uncomfortable, to say the least. But this man had offered graciously to go with her on the three hour plane ride, and explain the logistics of the profession. So Sakura decided that he should know why and what she was doing, in the duration of an hour. He was understanding about the whole ordeal, and gave her a polite at the times he agreed with her logic. Of course, she left some things out, because she didn't want to get too personal with this professor yet. They had just met.
"When I was a kid," Sakura started off. "I had never, ever wanted to be involved with the law. I stayed away from it as much as I possibly could. I wasn't a dumb kid, though. I knew my daddy," and Iruka took a few moments to register how she still had the pet-name for her father, "never wanted me around him when he was at work. He was forced to take me down to the station sometimes, when mommy was working extra shifts at the hospital, and at that time neither had wanted me to stay home alone, but he would practically do nothing. He wouldn't show me around, answer phone calls, or interact with the other officers there." Sakura paused, looking back up at the professor to be sure she had his attention. Almond-shaped eyes prodded her and awaited her next words. She took a sip of water, liquid that was apparently from the mountains of the Himalayas, as she heard some upper-class men comment from the seats ahead of her. "Daddy, you could see, was super protective of his only child. He didn't want her eyes to become scarred from the tens of bodies he saw everyday, dead and lifeless, with a bullet hole through the heart and head."
"That is an understandable inclination a father would have for their daughter. A safer position would be suitable for a girl, especially at the tender age of 16." Sakura held a finger up to her lips. "Not true," she objected.
"Now I'm not here to tell you a sob story about where I come from. I'm here to explain why I came here in the first place. Though it was probably against my better judgement and the rational voice in my head, I had sent an application into Tokyo University, writing in words that I was an aspiring student of the law, and was very interested in taking that path as a core profession. Which is more than half true," Sakura said. "The law enforcement field is a branch of that. It's like... if someone desire to become a philosopher, they would major in philosophy, right? But in reality, the word 'philosophy' means so much more than just 'love of wisdom.' Several branches follow, like the philosophy of language, law, mind, religion, science, etc."
"So when I said to my parents that I wanted to dabble in the art of political science, that was entirely truth on my part." The professor leaned in just a little bit closer, aware of the listening ears around him.
"Political science is a social science, that is concerned with the state, nation, government, and politics. So I know where you're coming from when you say that it wasn't a lie. It was just that layer of deception laid over it. I'm not blatantly making any accusations against you without hearing you out first, but if I heard correctly, you had told them that you intended to become a lawyer."
"A lawyer, by definition, is a person who practices law. And law, by definition, is a system of direct rules established by our government to correct the wrongs of society, and to maintain a healthy balance of political and social authority. And also, to carry out justice. I just never told them how I had intended to carry out that justice."
"It was my understanding that it was their understanding that once you graduated, and I have no doubts in my mind that they would have had any lack of faith in your complete graduation judging by your resume that I read on the way to Konoha, which, I must say, is quite impressive for someone from your background and age, you would be standing in a fancy court facing the judge, offering him honest and well-informed reasoning of why the accused behind you was, indeed, innocent. But now I see that you never intended to be that at all. I see, now, that you would be in that court room, but facing the jury with a gun in holster and a baton in hand."
"You're mostly correct, sir." She paused, and tapped her chin for a second, arrange the words in her brain to make the most sense. "I have, nor have ever had any desire, to lap at the heels of luxury, in a frilly room full of dapper business clothes and makeup plastered faces. The life of a simple bailiff wasn't for me, I'm afraid. But if I were ever to be forced into a position, by some circumstance, where I had to choose between offering perceptive and smooth words to appeal to the tribunal, or holding a cutthroat down when the the judge announced he had been granted three life sentences, you would now know that I would take the latter, no matter how ridiculous the idea sounds."
"I'm not here to dissent your lifestyle choices, Ms. Haruno, but hear me out for a moment. I didn't come on a 4 hour plane ride to be welcomed by a woman who lied her way to get to my college." Sakura knew that he was meant to sound crude, but she heard the light humor interwoven in his soft tone. "I was hand-picked by the principal of Tokyo University to personally teach you the systematization of this 'political science.' Luckily for you, I didn't just major in that one field. I also have a bachelor's in criminal justice, but never physically applied it. It was good to have in my mind, just in case I was thrust into an environment where having a bountiful amount of that system would prove to be helpful." He threw white sleeved arm over his eyes and sighed. "I can foresee the future of complications and trials that you will have to face now that I know your true purposes with this college." An ear-splitting grin adorned her fresh face, because she was prepared for the dilemmas ahead, if it meant that she would be able to study something she truly loved. No more words were exchanged between the student and teacher, until the plane landed.
The magazines, articles, books, you name it... they were all wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, was all she could think as the she departed with her professor. After spending hours and hours a night, for a week straight, flipping through the plastic pages of the most recent views and sights of Tokyo, she thought that she was prepared for the atmosphere of this city. How wrong she was, she mumbled to nobody in particular as she was ushered into a bright yellow cab by Professor Umino. She couldn't keep her eyes off of the towering buildings and little china shops that nestled their way between their larger and more older counterparts. Iruka wore a knowing look, remembering his first time visiting this large city quite distinctly. It seemed as it had been yesterday, but in fact, it had been thousands of yesterdays. "Quit it, you'll smudge the windows." His tinkering voice betrayed his stern words. "It's just really gorgeous here, I'm not used to all the colors. I want to take it all in before I enter the college for hours on end, y'know."
"Not sure if it will be hours, but if you really want to sight-see that bad, I can show you around after we're done. It will probably be around eleven o'clock when we're finished, but that's when the neon signs turn on." Sakura turned and nodded appreciatively at him, secretly pleased that she had been granted a thoughtful and amiable man to teach her for five years. Y'know in those movies, where the college teachers at the prestigious, snobby universities wouldn't speak to you unless it was absolutely, completely necessary? Well, that was who she was expecting. The women, in her opinion, were always the worst. Bad childhood experience with one. One apple spoiled the rest, and left her with a distaste towards rich, upper-class women. That didn't mean she didn't meet a handful she didn't like though. Sakura never based first meets solely on appearance, and she was glad that her brain was wired to look underneath the underneath first.
The man driving and Professor Umino engaged in light talk, about the contemporary plights within the city. To be honest, she really didn't care, but she listened anyways, just in case there was a pop quiz about something the driver and him had aforesaid when they arrived to his room. Highly unlikely, but being on your toes was a must in the law world. They arrived sooner then she thought; maybe she was too busy feasting her eyes on the immaculate designs of the skyscrapers, or maybe the taxi driver was going too fast. Professor Umino looked like an ant compared to the vast building. He signaled for his pupil to follow, and she caught up to him just as soon as he punched the code and entered the doors. Would she ever be familiar with this place? It was huge, at least 6,000 square feet, and not to mention the 2,000 squared ones branching off of it. She didn't think that she could familiarize herself with the immense space and separate compartments that resided within the walls anytime soon this year, but hey, she had 5 years.
Heart beating faster and breath doing the same, she followed Iruka and weaved through the separate groups of individuals chattering and loitering about. It was lunchtime for them, and damn, they had deserved 45 minutes of peace and meeting with their friends. Yes, they had deserved it. Some had spent more hours then others to get those perfect grades; that was just how life was. In the end, however, they all ended up in the same university, no matter how much more effort they had put into their work then their counterparts. Some looked at her, like she was a madwoman, and she couldn't deny that they were probably unnerved by the sight of her pink hair. It definitely wasn't a nice, strawberry red either. Bright, bubblegum pink, totally natural but unnatural at the same time. Natural, because she had never dyed it once in her entire life nor spent a ridiculous amount of money to get it fixed, and unnatural for the reason that it just wasn't a hair color. Completely unordinary were her locks, and it earned her strange glances everywhere she went. She personally didn't care nor not care for her hair. If it was brown or black, it would be easier to deal with, for the reason that if ever she were to go undercover, she could blend in better. But for now, she kept her pink hair, pink.
Finally escaping the obvious looks of distaste from them, she was led into an extensive room where she would spend her hours learning the ABC's of the legislation. She scanned it, and found that there was no speck of dirt or flake of dust to be found, and was happy to know that Professor Umino took pride in his occupation, like herself. "I'm just here to get a few things, I want to show you around first." The brunette mumbled, and bent down below his large oak desk to retrieve a clipboard and a ballpoint pen. "This is actually the last stop, sorry," he grinned. "Follow me at all times, please, so you don't get lost. This isn't exactly the smallest college in the world." And with that he walked out with the woman at his side. Follow she did. Listening keenly to his each explanation on the next building, she added it to her mental file cabinets of knowledge.
"Right here is the Department of Intelligence. This is basically where you go when you're new, and you're lost. But I don't think you'll venture here very often. Professor Tsunade comes around here from time to time, though I personally don't think you'll ever meet her face to face. She has too busy a schedule for any student, and instead focuses on the teachers and professors here. She honestly does care about the well-being of the applicants here, though, don't get confused. I'm sure you know who she is, by the way?" He chewed on the end of the pen idly.
"The big boss, of course. The founder and principal of Tokyo University, known for her limitless amount of insight concerning the medical field; one of the greatest medics in the world, right? She heads all things aesculapian, including a part-time job at the International Medical Center of Japan. Though she has the wits to complete anything, she only has a fourth of the wits when it comes to gambling..." Sakura finished, laughing at the last sentence. It wasn't common knowledge that the headmaster, and founder, of the most respected university in the country, was a compulsive gambler. She'd bet on anything with a price on it, and would end up penniless in the end. Tsunade was broke, for another reason though... not common knowledge either. Along with having the traits of an obsessive gambler, the woman also retained a severe drinking problem. A little sake as a child from her parents and she was hooked on the damn thing to this day. Sakura only knew all this because of the little snippets she picked out from articles pertaining to Tsunade. The whole story of her ordeal was never publicized directly, but hints about her bankruptcy and infatuation with alcohol was here and there in the print. The girl didn't know if her theory was completely accurate about the woman, but she was pretty damn sure.
"Textbook definition, expected no less." Iruka laughed lightly. "But I didn't expect the gambling part. I'm not surprised that you know about that, and I would appreciate if you kept quiet about it. Not that you would talk anyways. It wouldn't exactly brighten the universities reputation, but it wouldn't soil it entirely either if you just couldn't control yourself and needed to tell someone." His charisma was quite charming, and Sakura found herself liking this man more and more. His sentences would flow smoothly and he was just so nice that you couldn't possibly dislike someone like him. Iruka pulled his clipboard to his chest and crossed the first item off. "As I said before, this structure provides you with a firm understanding of what to do when you feel lost or confused. I came here a lot when I first entered, so there really is no shame in coming here if you're genuinely disorganized. Surprisingly, this is where I actually spent the duration of my first year. I had nobody to show me what to do or where to go, so I spent hours in that building looking over the maps of the campus. Nowadays, they have people there to direct you, thankfully. So it will make life here just a little easier for you. Now, onto the next one," Iruka finished and paused to look at the next thing on his list. "Ah, the Vascular Botanical Gardens. Or, if you would prefer, we could skip that one and just pass by the Flowering Plant Gardens. The first one is a bit tedious, I'll admit. But if you're into that, we can always go." Sakura smiled, told him to lead the way, and followed after him. If Iruka was willing to provide a full tour, she was going to follow through on that offer and see everything.
Albeit, it was actually stunning. The vascular part, not so much, but she was appreciative of the art of botany anyways. The Flowering Plant Gardens was beautiful, pink roses aligned along the tanned cobblestone. Zenias, carnations, dahlias, and lilies were planted in a pristine fashion along the edges of a grand water fountain in the middle of the garden. The barouqe, crystal fountain was the centerpiece of the garden. It was surrounded by lattices, with emerald green vines weaving in and out of the triangular holes. The sage grass, almost looking fake because it was so well taken care of, was soft to the touch. No patches of yellow to be seen, like Sakura was used to. They had managed to save a lot of water, however, only watering their lawn once a month. But it seemed that here, they had an unlimited supply of water. The bubbling geyser spewed clear liquid as Sakura's hands dipped down to meet it. Iruka stood nearby, a lax smile plastered on his civil face. He got a kick out of seeing her with her defenses down for just a moment, and clicked his teeth to signal her that it was time to go. Apologizing, the 16-year-old grinned sheepishly, and walked back to her professor. Time to continue, she thought a little sadly, looking back at the gorgeous scenery behind her. She would visit later.
"Now that I have your undivided attention," he chuckled as Sakura kept glancing wistfully back, "We'll head to the Administration of Health. You come here when you get hurt, or when a fellow student gets hurt and you witnessed the scene. I know you have a background in any pharmaceutical related thing. Your mother is a doctor, correct?" Knowing that his new student came from an impoverished family, he tried to only moderately touch on the subject of her parents or upbringing for now. "Nurse, more exactly. She's the wing man of the doctor, though," Sakura beamed proudly. Her mom had worked hard for that role in the hospital. She'd come home at 7 AM just to get up for work thirty minutes later. "This is were Tsunade usually is." She stated, recalling what Guide to Tokyo University had taught her. He nodded. "Usually, but not all the time. So don't come here expecting her to be here 24/7. She's only at this department to regulate health and cleanliness among the students and teachers. Sanitation is really important, y'know. Don't want kids getting sick, because they worked so hard to get here in the first place."
"Now that I think of it," he began again, "in all my years of being here, there were only four people who got sick. It wasn't deadly, though. It was, however, heavily contagious." They walked inside the facility, and unfortunately, the famed principal was nowhere to be found, but Sakura found that she was quite engrossed by the iatric formulas on the 18 by 6 foot chalkboard. She wondered idly if even Tsunade knew how to complete these, because even with her extensive knowledge of solving algebraic expressions, the girl was completely lost. Perhaps she was lost because they pertained to medicine; but algebra couldn't be that much different, could it? They looked the same. Still trying to figure for xyz, Iruka had been looking over his clipboard in the meantime. They couldn't get all this done in one day, since the walking portion had taken a while. Half a mile there, three fourths a mile here. It was tasking, so most of the adults here had taken the liberty of getting fit and jogging from class to class. But the professor didn't want to rush his new student the first day, so at a moderate pace they went from building to building. It was already nearing 8, he took notice, as the golden sun sunk below the grand architectures. It had been an exhausting day, not only for her, but for him also.
By exhausting, Iruka meant mentally challenging. This morning, he found out that he was the one who would be picking up the semi- prodigy at the airport. No, he hadn't offered, because someone already had before him. He would've though, but Mizuki had already grabbed a hold of Tsunade before he could, and claimed the girl that was Sakura Haruno. Mizuki and Iruka were old friends, but lately Iruka had observed his changing behavior. No longer was he the quiet, sweet man he had befriended as a young adult. More times than not, Mizuki would leave Iruka to attend to 'more important matters.' Which meant that he was probably meeting with some important head of class. The young professor hoped that he would stop soon; he wanted his old friend back. Sure, he had other friends, but they hadn't majored in anything law related, so it was harder to talk to them about things then it was with his white haired comrade. Deeply lost in his thoughts about his straying friend, he hadn't perceived the sleeping body slumped over two desks. He snickered and picked Sakura up bridal-style, because he was a gentleman of course, and carried her out to her brand new dorm.