Disclaimer: No ownage whatsoever of any characters or things related to Naruto.


Hinata nervously fidgeted in the backseat of the taxi. Her jittery hands went from straightening her hair, to smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles in her blouse, and brushing the microscopic pieces of dust on her knee-length skirt, to finally settling themselves, with thumbs still twiddling, onto her lap.

Hinata mentally checked off her list of all the things she would need to make this a fruitful interview, from her favorite pen, down to all the questions that she had meticulously prepared beforehand to ask the famous Cloud Nine. Sakura and Naruto had been kind enough to supply her with some advice prior.

Perfection, that was Uchiha Sasuke demanded from all those working under him.

According to Naruto, the perfection that Sasuke was looking for included dazzling fireworks and surreal illusion. Or, in other words, be as unorthodox as possible.

"Approach him as if you were one of Sasuke's fangirls, Hinata. You have to pounce on him, throw all your sense into the wind, attack with your eyes closed, bite with tooth and nail. Don't just ask Cloud Nine those mundane questions like 'What's your biggest inspiration,' ask him things like 'What is your opinion on frying bacon naked,' or what kind of lingerie he prefers to wear in broad daylight," Naruto had told her sagely at lunchtime last week.

"Um, Naruto-kun, I don't think that would give him the right idea…" Hinata had desperately replied with a blush staining her cheeks.

But he did not appear to have heard her, as he continued: "Believe me Hinata, people eat up this kind of information. If the public likes it, Sasuke can't object."

The advice that Sakura gave, after throwing Naruto a dirty look that told Hinata to not take what he said seriously was a bit less radical.

"Sasuke likes articles to be intriguing, not full of trash. He wants them classy, but not boring. Unique, but not outlandish. You can ask him anything you want, Hinata, just remember to make it count towards an article that is intriguing, classy, and unique."

Hinata took a deep breath of air, swelling with fierce determination.

Perfection: it was exactly what she had to be in order to reach such a goal.

But as Hinata let the air out of her lungs and she deflated, her determination did, also.

From her father's past bitter, disappointed sighs, Hinata knew that she was far from perfection. The cold knowledge that she was anything but perfect sagged in the pit of the stomach. Her father had always told her that was a bumbling, clumsy girl with her had always in the clouds, and drilled training into her twice as hard to make up for her shortcomings and mold her into a perfect leader for the company.

"Hey lady, we're here."

The driver's gruff voice punctured Hinata's thoughts and she glanced out the window to find herself in front of a ritzy hotel that was so tall that it blocked out the sun behind it. All of the bulbs on the extravagant sign that made the hotel's presence known (not that visitors would have missed the fifty story building with all the palm trees and sparkling fountains that surrounded it) were off, as the sun was up right at the moment, but Hinata was sure that at night, all the bulbs and the whole sign itself reading "The Amber Leaf: Making Everyone Feel Like Five Stars" would light up the whole street with its luminosity.

Although she, in her younger life with the Hyuuga family, had visited other more formidable hotels in which business meetings and formals took place in, The Amber Leaf was actually quite impressive. Before even entering, guests are entranced, as if by hypnosis by a large fountain featuring a statue of a tennyo, her face the epitome of serenity and beauty, with water shooting upwards in elegant streams out of the lotus blossoms that surrounded her. The men dressed in crimson red satin with shining gold buttons opening the gleaming glass doors for guests gave the sense of being pampered, slyly coaxing those who wanted more to stay a night or two.

"Look, I know it's pretty, but are you going to keep gawking or are you going to pay me, lady?"

"Oh! I-I'm sorry!"

Flustered, Hinata hurriedly dug through her purse to find her wallet, and discovered to her horror that her favorite pen had exploded, and blots of blue ink that stained the new notepad that she had brought along, were now staining her hands.

Hinata handed him his money, at his face soured at due to the spots of ink that had smeared from her hands, but instantly crinkled into a sickeningly fake smile when Hinata told him he could keep the change, which was worth a good twenty ryo.

After clambering out and stumbling on her heels, Hinata approached the glass doors. A bellhop smiled at her as she stepped into the lobby, and she made a beeline into a restroom to clean her blue inky hands.

Sadly tearing out stained pages of her notebook in the empty restroom, Hinata began to feel nervousness settle into the stomach. The perfect interview to a perfect article had to have a prefect beginning, and so far, nothing was going perfect. What if this was the prelude to a disaster, Hinata thought mournfully. Perhaps it would be best if she gave up on the famous Cloud Nine, and go interview someone else, someone that was not as intimidatingly popular…

She quickly shook those thoughts out of her. It was not like her to be thinking of such thoughts. It was simply not her way to go back on something she set her heart to, especially a special chance that Naruto himself helped her find.

Gathering her courage and things, Hinata strode out of the women's room and straight to the front desk.

"I'm Hyuuga Hinata, from Konoha Heat. I would like to talk to Cloud Nine, please."

"Very well, please allow a moment for me to contact them," said the man behind the counter as he picked up a phone.

Hinata smiled inwardly. Not a single stutter in the last sentence. It was not so hard, after all. She was only moments away from meeting Cloud Nine, and then she could finally get started on the article that had been sagging on her mind. Perhaps she could even enjoy the interview with Cloud Nine.

After a few moments on the phone with who Hinata supposed was Cloud Nine's manager, the man hung up and turned to Hinata.

"The manager will be down shortly to assist you."

Hinata nodded a quiet "Thank you" and seated herself on one of the large, majestic squishy armchairs in the lobby, until a man rushed out of the elevator claiming to be looking for someone named Hyuuga Hinata in a squeaky voice. It was the manager.

When Hinata presented herself to him, he enthusiastically shook her hand.

He was a short, balding man, sporting thick, round glasses that magnified his watery eyes. He seemed to be one of those people who were constantly moving, always nervous and jittery, restless because there was never time to rest. Being Cloud Nine's manager, Hinata had no doubt that he often had to run around and do much for him. He was surprisingly soft-spoken and a little timid, traits that reminded Hinata of herself.

He smiled nervously at Hinata.

"I a-apologize for not being more p-prompt. It's just that Jiro—well, you know him as Cloud Nine—he's having some g-guests over, and I didn't want to trouble you in finding the suite yourself."

"Oh, it's fine!" Hinata blushed, flattered at his thoughtfulness.

Hinata was a bit disheartened though, at the fact that Cloud Nine had guests over. She disliked having an audience while interviewing. It made her uncomfortable.

In the elevator, the manager continued to anxiously babble on about how the tour was going with Jiro, about how "energy-draining and intense the tour was going so far," and how he allowed Jiro a week to enjoy in Konoha even with the tight schedule.

Had Hinata been listening, she would have thought the manager to be a very kind, caring man. But she only caught bits and pieces of what he was saying, as she was getting lost in the old feeling of nervousness again. The task of interviewing Jiro, or the celebrity Cloud Nine, had just gotten harder, now that she knew she was going to have an audience, and rescheduling was not an option.

"Well, here we are, at the penthouse suite. I hope you enjoy yourself and have a good time." The manager smiled at her cheerfully. "Now, I must go and see how the preparations for Cloud Nine's performance are coming along! Until we meet again, Hyuuga Hinata!"

He gave a low bow and stepped back into the elevator just as the door was closing, leaving Hinata alone in the empty corridor.

Already, Hinata could hear the hard beats seeping through the door. It sounded like Cloud Nine was having quite a party with his guests. She wondered whether or not he would hear her knocking on the door.

With her knuckles, she gave three sharp raps against the sturdy cherrywood door, and was greeted by none other than Cloud Nine himself.

"We've been expecting you Hyuuga Hinata. Please, come in."

Hinata had heard much about the famed Cloud Nine last week at work from her fellow lady co-workers, and she concluded that the one thing that all the ladies unanimously agreed on was that his looks were as dreamy as his voice. He had a face carved by the gods themselves, with a strong chin, but soft cheekbones. He was graced with skin a satin tan, long, beautiful blond hair that cascaded down to his shoulder blades, and a killer smile. And best yet, his voice was smooth, creamy, and rich (although Naruto commented that it sounded more like they were describing a chocolate bar), and could sweep any woman off her feet.

Cloud Nine was suave, with impressive looks. And with a voice like that, it was no wonder the man was popular; he was certainly talented. Or incredibly lucky.

When Hinata stepped inside, she coughed, choking at the acrid whirlwind of smells that overwhelmed her senses. The lights were dim, and the smoky room made things even harder to see. Through the haze, Hinata could smell the room reeking of booze and tobacco.

"Make yourself at home, Hyuuga Hinata. 'The more the merrier,' after all. Ah, where are my manners."

He cleared his throat, grabbing the attention of the people scattered around the room, who were raucously downing bottles of gin and saucers of sake and scarfing down gyoza and pickled daikon. Everyone immediately quieted down and turned in the direction of Hinata.

"Everyone, this is Miss Hyuuga Hinata. Let's all be gentlemen and make sure she has a good time with us, ne?"

The room erupted into cheers and whoops of agreement.

Cloud Nine turned back to Hinata. "These guys are my friends, from the modeling agency I used to work for, you see. They're a rowdy bunch, but they're really quite friendly. Please, sit down."

"I see. Th-thank you, um, Cloud Nine-san." She cautiously settled for a seat in the couch in the middle of the room, the only open space available. Hinata could sense the eyes of the others boring into her. With an amused expression on their faces, they whispered excitedly to their companions and hid delighted smirks behind their sips of beer.

"You may call me Jiro, there is no need for formalities. " He had his back to Hinata, pouring what looked like a bottle of exquisite burgundy wine into two glasses.

Jiro handed her one of the glasses and held his own high into the air. His luscious voice, as ladies proclaimed, filled the room. "A toast! To our new friend Hinata-san! Kanpai!"

Jiro's guests raised their own filled glass, and many booming "Kanpai!" followed. Some even banged their chopsticks on their glasses to further show their enthusiasm. Everyone, including Jiro, raised the bottoms of their cup, and downed all of the contents.

Not wanting to come off as haughty or rude, Hinata timidly raised her glass a few inches, her face beet red. "K-kanpai!"

She lowered the glass to her lips and took a small sip before Sasuke's words that morning in the staff room eerily crawled into her mind.

"I wonder, would you have accepted a drugged drink if I seemed honest enough?"

At that, Hinata promptly placed her glass onto the coffee table in front of her. She tried tasting the remnants of the small sip she took to see if anything tasted strange, but found nothing. However, she did not plan on further indulging. There were business matters at hand, Hinata quickly reminded herself. It was not some fete she was just partaking in. Hinata also reminded herself that she was not known for her ability to be able to hold her alcohol.

The room was getting swelteringly hot, the smoke was blending into her vision, and the faces around her were starting to become mere shadows in the dim light. Her head was beginning to hum.

"So, Hinata-san…" Jiro was starting to sound a bit snake-like, more different than the smooth voice that women adored him for. He slid into the seat next to Hinata, right on the very same couch. He was close, perhaps a bit too close for Hinata's comfort, as he was only an arm's length away. "What brings a princess like you around these neck of the woods?"

An uneasy jolt travelled up her spine, and she glanced away from Jiro's murky brown eyes.

Everyone in the room was transfixed on Jiro and Hinata, interested more so on what Jiro's next move was than Hinata's answer. She became acutely aware that in the whole room, there was no other female.

"W-well, I'm here from the magazine Konoha Heat, and I was hoping to interview you for an article."

"Ah, Konoha Heat. The manager told me something about that. The one run by Uchiha Sasuke, am I correct?"

"Yes, that's one."

"He hasn't been overworking you, has he? No unpaid overtime, no…Undesirable favors?"

Cloud Nine leaned in closer, as if to examine the damage that Hinata could have sustained under the tyranny of Sasuke's management. Hinata scooted closer to the armrest at her end of the couch, but he pressed on, and she felt the side of their thighs touch.

Hinata gulped.

"N-no, none at all! In fact, he's really kind, and…and…not demanding at all!"

"Is that so? You know, Hinata-san, you have very peculiar eyes. The kind that is so mesmerizing that a man could be enraptured for ages and not care," said Cloud Nine, huskily.

Cloud Nine was now close enough for Hinata to smell the alcohol on his breath. Hinata attempted a weak smile. She was at a loss as to what to say or what to do.

"Flattery w-will get you nowhere, J-jiro-san," Hinata squeaked.

She heard guffaws from around the room. Even Jiro's eyes shined with mirth and his lips were curved upwards into smirk.

"Humor. Honest humor. I like that in a girl."

Somewhere from the crowd someone shouted, "Hey Jiro, you should ask her if she's got a boyfriend!"

Chortles were heard from the boys, and then some started to actually encourage it.

"Yeah, Jiro! See if she's 'bought goods'!"

The room howled with laughter, but simmered down when Jiro held a hand up.

"Now now, boys, be nice! But do tell, Hinata-san."

Jiro's eyes stared penetratingly into Hinata's own. Hinata was just about to open her mouth and was in the midst of deciding to either scream or reply politely when there was a knock at the door.

"Um, Jiro-kun?" It was the manager's voice.

"So sorry to have bothered you, Jiro-kun, but your presence is requested at the Konoha Stadium to discuss how you want the fireworks at the end of the concert to go."

Jiro sighed, frustrated like a child that had to part from his game too early for his liking.

"Very well, then. I'll meet you downstairs in the lobby in fifteen minutes."

"I'll see you then!" The manager replied cheerily.

Cloud Nine finally stood up, and as the cushions stopped sagging from under his weight, relief washed over her as her body unclenched itself.

"So sorry, Hinata-san, that you didn't get any work done. But I am requested elsewhere. You can't have me all to yourself!" Jiro winked.

All of Jiro's friends signed in despair, forlorn that the fun had to be over when it was just beginning.

"I know boys. We'll all miss Hinata-san. Ah! I'll make it up to you, Hinata-san. This Friday night I shall be celebrating my final night in Konoha at the club Leaves on Fire. You can find me there, and I will answer any question you throw at me. Now run along, Hinata-san, and I will see you Friday night."

He ushered Hinata out the doorway and closed it after she had stepped out, leaving her feeling a bit like a helpless child who had no idea what to do.

Although she was overjoyed to finally be breathing fresh air again, the hollow, empty feeling of having nothing accomplished was starting to haunt her. Now that she thought about it, Sasuke usually set his deadlines on Friday. Whether it was turned in at six in the morning or a minute before midnight, Sasuke made it clear by the piece of ordinary paper that had the words "FRIDAY OR ELSE", written in what looked eerily like blood, tacked to the staff bulletin board that he wanted his articles handed into him within the twenty-four hours that Friday lasted.

Getting into the taxi with the exact same driver that afternoon when she left the hotel was solid proof that Hinata had not advanced anywhere off the square she was on this morning.