[I appreciate constructive criticism.]
I.
Words could not describe how happy Madara Uchiha was because of his lunch break. It was his third day as the CEO of Uchiha Organization, but he would have gladly returned the job to his father if he could. It was impossible since his father appointed him as the next executive during the last public press conference.
Tajima Uchiha had not even talked about this matter with his son beforehand; he had wanted it to be a birthday present. Madara had been surprised because of this special present, indeed he was very perplexed that it was him and not Izuna – his younger yet more devoted brother – who would get the job.
Stiltedly smiling into the cameras before him, Madara had hoped that the 24 December would turn out as the 1 April. Madara was 26 now, and even though he would never say it out loud, he felt overwhelmed with his new duties.
The last days of December were cold, very cold, and he wanted to have something warm inside of him. He also wanted to escape this goddamn district where the Uchiha Organization's gigantic tower of glass stood. He had not wanted to be driven to the city, he had not wanted to be recognized by plebs so he wore his glasses instead of his contacts and had his hair slicked back.
Madara got off from the train after a ride of five minutes at the central station and watched for the signs and the walls leading outside the station. The last time he had been here was a long time ago.
At this time the city was not very vibrant, which he appreciated. It was seasonally decorated, occasionally there was snow. At night the buildings and the sky and were illuminated with bright artificial colours. Madara went passed shoe and clothing stores, turned left, and was suddenly standing before a small tea house.
Sakura's tea house and more he read from the sign and looked at the beverages list hanging next to the entrance. Madara checked his watch. He could not lose any more time strolling through the whole city. He would fill his stomach with something warm and hopefully delicious in this tea house and leave with for his job with a heavy heart. He hoped that in a week he would get used to his new everyday life.
Madara went inside and inspected the furnishing that matched the tea house's name perfectly: The walls were decorated with synthetic branches of cherry blossoms and images of cherry trees; the lights hanging from the ceiling looked like cherry blossom buds. The atmosphere was cozy and there were only a few people. A discreet scent filled the air that eliminated his bad mood instantly.
"Good day!" greeted him a pink haired waitress friendly. The moment their eyes met, the waitress's green eyes lit up for a second. Madara could not tell the meaning of it. "Please have a seat wherever you want," the waitress told him.
Madara nodded and occupied a seat near the window and looked for the menu once more. The pink haired woman took his order and came back with a hot chocolate ten minutes later. A mountain of cream, marshmallows and caramel sauce protruded from the brown drink which came with a cinnamon roll.
"I will bring you the pastry right away," the waitress said.
Madara detected her name tag. Her name was Sakura Haruno and she might have been the owner of this tea house. He had not realized she has been looking at him the whole time critically.
Sakura Haruno disappeared and Madara gave himself to the hot chocolate. He was not impressed by the way the hot chocolate looked like, it was nothing special after all, and so he grabbed the spoon. He was astonished by the rich taste of the cream that melted in his mouth beautifully, by the thick consistency of the chocolate, which he was used to abroad only. In this country, hot chocolate was a synonym for cocoa drink being spiced up with cream and some fancy extras.
In his opinion, the temperature as well as the sweetness of the hot chocolate was just right; more sugar was not needed. Madara did not want the glass holding such a delicious drink to become empty.
But it was empty soon, and when he finished the pastry it was time to go back to work. Sullen inside, he called the waitress.
"Altogether that makes 315 dollars," she said.
Madara took out the money from his purse blinked. "315?" he asked and raised his eyebrows. "315?" he repeated, after Sakura had nodded. She seemed not to be impressed by his game of brows at all. "Have the prices for chocolate increased or have the people forgotten how to calculate?"
"The prices have increased indeed," Sakura answered, crossing her arms. "I did the calculation right, dear customer. One hot chocolate costs three, a pastry four and a bicycle 308 dollars."
And a bicycle 308 dollars.
Madara was puzzled. That woman must have lost her mind. He put ten dollars on the table. "There you go, keep the change," he said and got up. He wanted to leave the tea house as the waitress, who has followed him, dug her nails into his suit. "Let me go," he commanded with icy serenity. But the young woman did not want to do as he had wished.
"You will pay for my bicycle you broke last week!"
"What in the world a-" Suddenly he remembered the last week's unpleasant happening. He had been robbed and had taken a stranger's bike to chase the thief. At some point the bike had been crushed by a train.
Madara sat down. "I will pay for your bike," he said after a long silence. Her searched the wallet for his bank card but did not find it. He must have left it at home due to his absent-mindedness early in the morning. "I will come back tomorrow and bring you the required money," he assured the woman.
Sakura slammed her hands onto the tabletop. "I'm sorry," she said in a fake sweet voice. "But I don't trust you. I hope you can understand." New guests arrived. She greeted them with a hearty smile and brought them to a table, and then she returned to Madara. He was fascinated by how quick she was able to change her facial expressions and tone of voice.
"Let's do it this way," Madara suggested and removed the watch from his wrist. "This watch is worth over 300. I'll promise to be here tomorrow, but if I won't return until tomorrow evening, you can sell this thing or keep it." He passed her the watch, and she received it with mixed feeling.
"Hm," she murmured while examining it like a pirate his booty. "Alright, if you won't come tomorrow, I'll keep the watch." She took the ten Dollars lying on the table, stuffing the money into her belt bag. "Have a nice day!"
She sailed away, and Madara left. On his way to the train stop he reflected on the waitress and shook his head. Her actions puzzled him, but they did not make him angry.
Standing on the glass tower's ground floor, Madara searched for some coins to buy water at the vending machine. To his amazement, he discovered his bank card among several others. He must have overlooked it because of the unusual circumstances. He frowned.
He shrugged mentally and inserted the coins. I'm too stressed out. He took the bottle of water and traveled to his floor with the elevator. His father was expecting him at the waiting lounge. They greeted each other formally and Tajima gave Madara two heavy folders.
"You have to prepare for an upcoming meeting. We will discuss in which branch we will invest next. I know this is quite short-termed, and I also know that your secretary is absent due to illness; however, I cannot postpone the meeting. We have to decide quickly regarding this matter. I'm sure you will handle it well."
He had started to peruse the first folder yesterday and got four hours of sleep. His secretary was gravely ill and he was completely on his own. Other people had to work, too; he could not force others to do his job. Well, he could in theory, but this would lead to several problems, and he wanted to avoid any inconveniences for the company.
Since he had made a promise he went to the tea house in his lunch break. It was drizzling when he entered the location.
Sakura was talking to a costumer, and Madara silently occupied the same place as yesterday, while looking at the snow on the street being softened up by the rain.
Sakura was surprised to see him and did not even want to try to hide it. "To be honest, I never thought you would come, even though you left your expensive watch here. I apologize," she said when he handed her over an envelope with money.
"I'd like to have a hot chocolate, B2," he requested.
Sakura saw his under eye circles and the exhausted look on his face. "Goodness," she remarked, placing the chocolate on his table, "did you stay up all night?"
Normally he did not like consuming extremely sweet things every day; but he had to satisfy his chocolate need, and besides: The first impression could be misleading. Maybe today's chocolate would taste differently, not as delicious as the day before. Along with the hot drink he had ordered a sandwich.
With heavy eyelids Madara looked at the waitress. He did not like people who meddled in other people's affairs. "Work," he answered laconically.
"I see," Sakura said. "How's the chocolate?"
"It's good. I'm not used to this kind of consistency in this country. Most of the time…"
"… It's like cocoa," she completed his sentence, seemingly happy about the compliment. "I'm glad you like it. Are you a great lover of hot chocolate? It might be your favourite drink, which is understandable, but we have plenty of other hot drinks you can try."
Yesterday her deadly glances had been like stitches; today her green eyes were shining. Either she was terribly sorry because of her yesterday's actions or it was an attempt to make him a regular costumer. As long as she served him delicious chocolate he would not mind coming here on a regular basis.