a/n: Hi guys, here's hoping June's a wonderful month for you all. Enjoy this chapter, by the way; we've only got two more to go. Thank you for sticking with me after all this time, the posting and reposting and what-not, and especially thank you for those who have commented! I really couldn't have asked for a better readership.


twenty-eight.

.

.

.

"That's a wrap, I think."

Sasuke examined the contract in front of him warily, reading every word with extra care just in case there was any loophole he might have missed. When he was done, he put the folder down on the table cautiously, almost as if it was the most important set of documents he had ever encountered in the years he served as CEO—and it might as well be. The file contained the most sensitive, detailed information that would undeniably be of good use to them in the future: records of Madara's wrongdoings, details of his corruption over the resources trusted to him, balance sheets, cash flow statements and profit and loss accounts starting from the time Sasuke been crowned president, his parents' will and many other legal papers.

Over the past few days, the elders had called forth a meeting to discuss Madara's status in the company. Most of them voted to completely remove Madara from the board of directors, allowing him to stay in the company with limited rights. Like a true Uchiha, he tried to wrestle his way out of it but it was a done deal. It was either demotion or termination, and Madara, unable to stand the load anymore, decided to just leave the company for good. Now, no one would know if he ever decide to strike again, but as far as Sasuke was concerned, the Uchiha's would be safe for a very, very long time.

"That's a wrap," he agreed, handing the file over to Itachi to be stored in a safety cabinet as he looked up. "Thank you, Ichinose."

"No problem," the lawyer responded smoothly, tucking in the rest of his files into his briefcase. He stood up, followed by the Uchiha brothers, and then shook their hands. "It has been a pleasure, Itachi, Sasuke."

With a final exchange of goodbyes, Itachi left to escort Ichinose out and take care of the files, leaving Sasuke alone in his office. As the younger Uchiha reclined on his chair, he took a deep breath and his gaze fell to the phone sitting on his table. Gingerly, he leaned forward and lifted the receiver, fingers going over a number he contacted so many times over the last few days that he didn't have to try to remember it anymore because his body, pretty obviously, did.

And like his other attempts, this one was just as vain. The voice that answered him hadn't been the one he longed to hear; instead it was the operator telling him that the number was unreachable for the time being and he should try again soon.

So he did. And he did. And he did, probably for another five times after that. Perhaps he was being obnoxiously stubborn, but this was one of those things he couldn't just let go. She was one of those things he couldn't let go—and didn't want to.

Hell, she topped the list, and he'd be damned if he just stood still and let his life pass him by.

So Sasuke decided to do the next best thing he could.

The receptionist in the Miyazawa's office picked up after three rings, sounding chirpy and upbeat. "Good morning! Hisajima Shiho speaking, and this is the Miyazawa's head office. How may I help you?"

"I'd like to talk to Haruno Sakura," he paused, and then added, "Please."

"Alright, who am I speaking to?"

"Uzumaki—" he halted himself right on time, his shoulders tense. What was the point of lying? It probably wouldn't get him anywhere further than where he was standing this point of time, and he definitely didn't want that. "I mean Uchiha," he corrected himself, "You're speaking to Uchiha Sasuke."

If Shiho was suspicious of him, she dismissed it quickly. "Okay, let's see…" There was a slight pause before she suddenly came back to him. "I'm afraid Haruno-san is away on a trip, sir. May I take a message instead?"

Sasuke stiffened on his seat. "She's away on a trip?" he asked, hating the way his voice sounded feeble, uncertain, "Do you know how long she'll be away? Or when she'll be back?"

"She should be back in about two or three weeks, Uchiha-san." Shiho's voice was smooth, soothing now. "If your matters are urgent and pressing and of professional nature, sir, I can refer you to her temporary replacement. I'm sure Amaru-san is just as qualified to help you, and she…"

But the rest of Shiho's sentence went unheeded by Sasuke, who could only process the first part.

Two or three weeks. God, where had Sakura gone to? Why? And more importantly, how did he not hear anything about this at all? After the ball about two weeks ago, the media had gone completely crazy with the revelation that Miyazawa Akihito had a long-lost granddaughter. The press conferences that followed after that had been to fend off the endless streams of rumors and questions flung at Sakura and her parents. He'd seen it all on TV when he wasn't working. Even so, the media still found Sakura an enigma, following her every move and speculating every time she did or didn't do something. She popped up often in the news, sometimes making it to gossip magazines and other times only mentioned in passing. Heck, they even actually released her bio on a teen magazine, calling her the modern day Cinderella. He heard she'd even been assigned a personal bodyguard, which made him—

"Uchiha-san, are you still there?"

At the mention of his name, Sasuke straightened on his chair. "I'm still here."

"Good! Now, shall I forward you to Amaru-san or do you want to leave a message for Haruno-san instead?"

"Do you know where she's gone to?" he decided to ask.

Shiho sounded apologetic. "I'm afraid not, sir."

With a disappointed sigh, Sasuke told her thanks and then hung up, contemplating on what to do next. Two or three weeks. Too long. He needed her sooner than that. He needed her to know that he wasn't going to let her go, and he needed her to know that fast, before she could let go of him.

An idea crossed his mind, and Sasuke reached for the phone once again.

"Setsuna, I need you to find something for me."

xx

Sai was not amused. Far from it.

Crossing his arms, he leaned back on his seat and peered at his guest, his expression a blank sheet of white. "I didn't expect to see you here," he said, the timbre of his voice even though there was a slight rise of unease as he asked, "How did you find me?"

Sasuke met his eyes. "I have my sources."

"We all do," Sai agreed placidly. "Perhaps the better question is… why did you come to me?"

Sasuke ran his fingers over his hair, forcing himself to collect himself. He did not want to be here. Truth be told, being here was probably the least thing he wanted for himself, but he had to do what he had to do. "Sakura's gone."

"Ah, yes," Sai nodded. "What does that have to do with your standing here?"

"Do you know where she is?"

Sai's lips curled into a smile. "No."

Sasuke was incredulous. "You don't?"

"No," he repeated. "Unfortunately, I don't know where she is. But Sakura is an adult and she can take care of herself perfectly well. She needs the time away, and she knows it."

"So she's escaping the world? Just like that?"

"She will be back."

"Is she alone?"

The dark-haired businessman shook his head, "Tenten is with her."

Sasuke took in this information and mulled it over in his head, feeling himself unwind a little, ease a little. If Tenten was with Sakura, then it was almost a hundred percent guaranteed she was fine. Nobody knew and understood Sakura like Tenten did.

Sai leaned forward, resting his chin on the back of his palm. "Frankly, Uchiha-san, if she hasn't told you where she is, perhaps she doesn't want you to find out. Have you considered that?"

"Yes," Sasuke replied stiffly, "but I have also considered the alternative."

"Which is?"

"She wants me to fight for her." A pause. "And I need to remind her that I want to fight for her as well."

At the answer, the corners of Sai's lips twitched and muted amusement danced in his dark onyx eyes. He took a long, good look at Sasuke, his gaze fixated on the man standing in front of him. "Ah, I see now."

Sasuke narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "See what?"

"The difference between us," Sai replied quietly, moving to his feet. He took a few steps until they were directly face to face, standing an inch or two taller than the Uchiha. "The one slight difference where I failed and you could—and would—succeed."

"I don't understand what you're yakking about."

But Sai, not to be intimidated, just said, very simply: "You love her."

"Don't you?"

"Not as much as you do," Sai replied matter-of-factly, "and evidently, not the way you do."

Sasuke snorted.

"Perhaps I used to," Sai continued, his voice so unperturbed, so impassive that it was almost acerbic, "I don't know. But I know one thing, Uchiha Sasuke: I let her go."

Sasuke shuffled his feet, suddenly uncomfortable. "That's not what she said."

Sai was suddenly intrigued. "What did she say?"

"That you both let go."

The intrigue immediately turned to amusement. "That's such a Sakura thing to say."

Grudgingly, Sasuke admitted, "I know."

"Don't you?"

"I know," he bit out. "I know what she's like. I know what she's been through—"

"Do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you know what she's been through the last couple of weeks?" Sai asked. "The moment she needed you, you turned your back to her and walked away. What do you know about her, Uchiha Sasuke? What right do you have to know anything about her? You saw her at the party. How do you know she'll even forgive you?"

Sasuke stiffened at the question. "I can try."

"And if you fail?"

"That's not for you to decide."

"No," Sai agreed. "I suppose not. Like I said, there is a difference between us, and this is where the difference comes in."

"Talking to you is like talking to a babbling eunuch, Arakaki Sai," Sasuke stated sullenly, "You go in circles to the point of being incoherent. Just get to it."

Sai looked at him for a long, long while, and for a horrible moment, Sasuke thought he had spent the last fifteen minutes for nothing.

But then he smiled—actually smiled.

"I missed my chance, Uchiha Sasuke," he spoke, this time with fortitude, no matter how subdued, "I let her go. But for you, your chance is still here," he paused, "Don't let it go. Don't let her go." His eyes softened. "Or it'll become something you'll regret."

Did you regret it? Sasuke wanted to ask, but instead, his voice was quiet. "I know."

Reaching for a memo, Sai scribbled something on it and then handed it to Sasuke. "This is Tenten's new number. If you manage to get her to forgive you, then you might still have a shot with Sakura."

Sasuke eyed the piece of paper suspiciously. "Why are you helping me?" he asked, disbelief clear in his voice, "You hate me."

"I don't," Sai countered, calm but unreadable. "You hate me."

Sasuke did not reply.

"Selfishness aside, I want Sakura to be happy. She deserves it more than anyone, after all she's been through, after all her family has put her through… after all I have put her through." Sai reached for the discarded newspaper he had been reading when Sasuke came barging into his office. Wordlessly, he folded the paper neatly, making sure every corner met every corner, end to end, and it dawned on Sasuke how similar they actually were. "I think you can make her happy."

"She hates me."

Sai looked up. "No, she doesn't. She's angry. She has every right to be, and you know it, too."

Sasuke glowered. "You—!"

"Do not test my patience, Uchiha Sasuke," Sai interrupted. "There must be a reason why you just came here barging into my office in broad daylight."

Not having any real answer to that, Sasuke shoved the paper into his pocket, and started to walk out before he stopped at the door. Not bothering to look at Sai, he mumbled a grudging, reluctant, "Thanks."

Sai did not miss a beat. "You're welcome."

This time Sasuke turned around, his eyes meeting Sai's, black against black, as he repeated his gratitude, finally slipping out of the door before the latter could respond.

Maybe in the far, far future, or perhaps in another life, they could be friends.

xx

Damn it.

Letting out a string of curses, Tenten glared at her shoes, closing the glass door behind her as she made her way out to the veranda. Damn it, damn it, damn it.

"Tenten, are you there?"

She should have known better than to pick up calls from unknown numbers! Now she was stuck with the consequences in the form of a persistent man refusing to give up unless she told him where she was—namely Uchiha Sasuke.

Making sure Sakura couldn't hear her, she sighed into the phone. "Yes. Yes, I am, Sasuke. What do you want?"

There was hesitation in his voice as he asked, "How is she?"

"Coping," she answered, making a face although Sasuke couldn't see it.

It was the truth: Sakura was coping. Not fine, just coping—and it was starting to drive her crazy. She wasn't getting better. She wasn't moving on, and Tenten suddenly felt so very useless. She originally thought that being away from all the chaotic mess Sakura called home would do some good to her, but seeing as she was barely improving, the novelist really didn't know what else to do.

"She's not sad, not upset, not angry," Tenten informed her caller dully, tiredly, as she sat down, "She's eating well, sleeping well, taking good care of herself…"

"But?"

She swore. It was like he had sixth sense, honestly. "But she's not happy," she said. "She's not herself. And I hate that, Sasuke, God, I hate that so much. And I hate that you're calling me instead of her!"

Sasuke's response was flat but patient. "I would've called her if she'd talk to me, Tenten."

"I know."

"Hmm."

"What?"

"Will you ever tell me where you're at?"

Tenten bit her lip, arguing with herself in her head. On one hand, while time away wasn't making Sakura any happier, perhaps she needed just a little more time. On the other hand… her intuition was telling her that her best friend wasn't dealing with the problem at all, which would inevitably lead to a bigger problem. Bottling up feelings only worked for so much, for so long; even then it wasn't the best way—or a way at all, really—to solve a problem. At this rate, Tenten didn't care if Sakura would give her the cold shoulder for a while—they were best friends, they'd get over it—but she couldn't stand aside and watch her wither any longer.

Sighing again, she rested her elbows on her lap, bending forward, her chin on her palm. "We're in Okinawa."

Sasuke sounded incredulous. "Okinawa?"

"Yes. Okinawa."

"What for?"

"I need to do some research."

"I see," answered Sasuke, and then he went completely silent save for the typing of his keyboard.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Don't tell me you wanted to know just for the sake of it!" Tenten snapped impatiently, "Are you going to come down here or not?"

"Patience is a virtue, Tenten," Sasuke sounded amused, "I just bought myself a plane ticket. I'll be there by tonight."

At his response, Tenten immediately felt a surge of relief so powerful that she ignored his slight, almost good-natured jibe. "I'll hold on to your words," she said. "We're staying at the Hyuuga's, room twelve-zero-two. I'll arrange it with the receptionist so he'll know to let you in."

"Okay. Thanks."

"Sasuke?"

"Yeah?"

Tenten stared into the room at Sakura. Her pink-haired best friend was curled with a pillow and a blanket on the sofa, her eyes glued to the TV. "This better be worth it."

Sasuke's reply was easy, relaxed, but serious. "I know."

But Tenten wasn't done. Her next words were spoken softly, quietly, like she was holding her own breath and hoping for the best.

"You better be worth it."

There was a slight pause, and then, "I know."

xx

Haruno Sakura loved parties.

She loved them because they were noisy, distracting her from her wayward thoughts of a certain someone that had been lurking in the back of her mind. She loved them because they celebrated something, reminding her that while she wasn't exactly happy, many people around her were. She loved them because there were music and dance, and she would be free from—

"Alone?"

—people hitting on her.

Daring herself to look up, she found herself face-to-face with a man in his early thirties. He had brown hair and bright blue eyes that would have reminded her of Naruto's if only they weren't looking at her like she was an object especially made for his lecherous, perverse pleasure.

"No," Sakura finally replied, a polite smile spreading on her lips, "My best friend is around."

"I'm sure he is," the stranger raised his eyebrows as he smirked, clearly unconvinced, "Well, he's wrong to leave someone like you alone. My name is Daisuke, I just broke up with my girlfriend, and I will be pleased to keep you company until he comes back—if he comes back."

Her smile turned forced. "It's a she, and no, thank you."

"Is that so?"

"Yes," she answered, tipping her cocktail glass, the familiar taste of martini sliding into her throat.

For several moments, Daisuke only stared at her curiously. "I know you," he said suddenly. "You're Sakura. The long-lost heiress of the Miyazawa—"

"No," Sakura cut in before he could finish his sentence. Amused, she tipped her cocktail glass, the familiar taste of martini sliding into her throat. So she was heiress now? Those gossip magazines clearly needed to come up with better stories—the truth, for a change, would be nice. Setting the glass down, she looked at him with cool green eyes, "I'm not Miyazawa Sakura."

"You certainly look like her."

She shrugged. "So I've been told."

The brown-haired man was quiet for a few seconds before he reached forward, his hand squeezing the fingers she circled around her glass. "Are you sure," he began, his lips close to her ear, his breath, reeking faintly of alcohol, fanning her cheek, "that you don't want me to keep you company? I can get you another glass."

Sakura drew back sharply, immediately, careful not to show the disgust flaring in the pit of her stomach, and pushed him away with her free hand. "I'm sure."

Surprisingly, his smile only widened, infinitely pleased with himself. "Well, that's too bad."

She didn't reply, praying to whatever god there was to quickly send this philandering man far, far away from her. She'd chosen to go down to the hotel bar while Tenten slaved herself over her book in their room after dinner, knowing that there was a weekend party where she could get drinks for free. She'd even taken her seat on the small table outside the bar overlooking the swimming pool and the garden, thinking that she could use even more quiet, thinking time. The night sky was a blanket of gorgeous, velvety blue, specked by a constellation of stars, and she was alone out here.

Or at least, she should have been, because this was about as far as being 'alone' as it could get and she was starting to regret her decision. If she had known that she would have to deal with someone as ill-mannered and brash as this man when all she wanted was some peace, she'd have locked herself in a cupboard and stay there for days. At least that would give her all the peace and quiet she longed for.

"That's too bad for you, I mean," Daisuke continued casually, his tone conversational as he took the seat next to her, a wicked gleam in the bright blue of his eyes, "I happen to like women like you. You play hard to get, you think you're a challenge," his hand rested on her knee, and when she tried to pry his fingers away, his grip only tightened persistently, "but in the end you're just another lonely girl in desperate need of company—"

Sakura stared at him in disbelief, but he wasn't done.

"—or, to put it bluntly, someone to fuck."

At his snide, vile remark and his accompanying taunting sneer, Sakura stiffened on her seat, her fingers tightening around the cocktail glass she was holding.

"Very charming, aren't you," she remarked after she composed herself, not a hint of emotion on her pretty face, "From the sound of it, Daisuke-san, it seems like you're the one in desperate need of company. I wonder why is that, hmm?" slender eyebrows rose above emerald eyes, "Did your girlfriend dump you because of your lack of tact? Your disrespectful, horrid behavior? Your ever-colourful language?" she paused, and her green eyes darkened, "Or is it you yourself, because you're so repulsive?"

He opened his mouth, his facial muscles tightening with anger.

"I pity you," Sakura interrupted him, her voice honeyed so saccharinely sweet that it bordered on mockery, "But I pity her more, to be honest with you. To have been involved with someone so… abysmal must not be a very fulfulling experience for her, I imagine. And yet here you are, not even trying to better yourself but hitting on women who would rather die than be with someone as disgusting as you are."

His eyes narrowed. "You—"

"How very shameful," she whispered. "How very pathetic."

"You bitch!" gasped Daisuke, his whole body shaking with anger. He grabbed her arm and in response she gasped, startled, as he tilted her chin up roughly, forcing her to look up at him, their lips inches apart. Her green eyes blazed with fury and she struggled, but his grip was strong and steady. "Listen," he hissed, "No one speaks like that to me, so shut the fuck up. Women like you are no better than trash, and you know the only thing you're good for? Fucking. You hear me? That's all you're good for. A good fuck."

"You asshole," she spat in return, choking with strangled breath, the contempt burning in her eyes only multiplying, "You sexist pig."

The grip on her arm tightened and he let go of her chin, pulling his hand back, and Sakura held her breath, squirming on her seat as her eyes closed in alarm, bracing herself for impact…

But the slap never came.

Instead, a hard punch delivered right to his face sent him staggering back, jolting out of his seat, his grip on her arm slackening as his body lurched. He clutched his right cheek, howling in pain, his scream shrill and piercing sharp as he recoiled—before another blow struck him again and this time, he plummeted to the ground like a used napkin, screeching in painful agony.

Sakura released her breath she didn't realize she had been holding, her eyes wide at the figure standing in front of her, his back facing her. The charcoal black hair, the curve of his neck, the familiar shoulders shaking in pure hatred…

"Sa… Sasuke?"

.

.

.

tbc.


a/n: Speaking of which, if anyone notices the parallelism between this chapter and the very first chapter without me saying this, I would quite possibly love you forever. :D