Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

The Gala

"…Excuse me? Miss Hayashi, it's time to get up." A voice softly said. Slowly, I was shook from my sleep. Sitting up, I wince at the fact that I hadn't slept comfortably. My neck painfully cracked, as I sat straight up in my seat, feeling my head ache. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I glanced up at the person beside me. It was the sole stewardess. (Why did Aunt Chizu even bother hiring a stewardess?)

"We're landing in New York in a few minutes," Sleepily, I nodded in acknowledgement, fumbling around for my bag. Sneaking a glance at Aunt Chizu and Sakura, they seemed as if they received a full night's rest, wearing different outfits than the one they wore in Konoha. Making sure none of my belongings were accidentally left in the plane, I kept all of my things before I adjusted my seatbelt slightly, noticing how tight it was. Kami, was this the way I slept all night?

Slumping back in my seat, I lifted up the closed window, squinting at the flood of sunlight that seized my eyes. I felt uncomfortable, shifting in my seat. I just needed to go to the bathroom, as soon as possible. Unfortunately, we were about to land, so I couldn't exactly do that.

Heaving a sigh, I glanced out of the window, seeing a city with countless buildings, covered in smog.

xXx

The JFK airport was crowded, filled with numerous businessmen, anxious families, tourists and so many others. Aunt Chizu had someone push her and Sakura's carts, with their numerous Louis Vuitton bags on it. I stayed behind, shuffling behind them, pulling my own trolley bag. After what seemed like a long time, we reached the exit, and I finally got a whiff of that New York air. It was definitely more different than Konoha, I'll tell you that.

Konoha had much more trees, and the streets weren't so crowded with busy people. The air in Konoha had fresh, crisp air, albeit how busy it was. I glanced around, taking in the immediate surroundings. There were plenty of cars, either picking people up or dropping them off. A black Mercedes stopped in front of us smoothly.

I guess this is our ride, I thought, pushing the handle back into my trolley bag, pulling my handbag up my shoulder. A chauffer got out, helping us with the luggage as Aunt Chizu, Sakura and I slipped in the car.

The first thing I noticed was that it smelled like men's cologne and had sleek, black leather seats. It had a really masculine aura to it. The chauffer got in and began to drive into the city without a word. In the middle of the ride, I felt another wave of pain crashing upon my stomach and my lower back. Inconspicuously, I pull my bag to my stomach, frowning.

I couldn't wait to get to the hotel, so I can finally use the bathroom. We better get there soon. I glare at the chauffer, casually checking out some chick in a short dress, waiting in the traffic. Hurry up! I hiss, clenching my fists.

xXx

As soon as I get into my fancy-schmancy room in our fancy-schmancy suite in the ever-so fancy-schmancy Waldorf Astoria Hotel, I rush in with my trolley bag, locking the door. Rummaging for my key in my handbag, I hurriedly unlock the red suitcase and pull the sanitary pads out, literally ripping one out.

The fact that I also really had to pee didn't help.

The other fact that my cramps were making me insane probably didn't help either.

Rushing in the bathroom, I lock the door and do my business.

Knock, knock.

"F*ck off," I hiss, scowling at whoever may be behind the bedroom door.

"Miss Tomomi," a person spoke, mispronouncing my name. How the f*ck do you mispronounce something as easy as 'Tomomi'? It's not 'Toe-Moe May'. B*tch, it's 'To-mo-mi'; the way it's f*cking spelled. Get it right.

"I'm busy!" I say, hiding the irritation and anger in my tone. "It's urgent!" I roll my eyes. And this isn't? Woman, I am in the bathroom. "Okay!" I yell, flushing the toilet and pulling my blouse out of my pants. Storming out of the room, I threw the door open.

(Well, I didn't literally throw the door open.)

"Yes?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at her. "Madam Chizu needs to talk to you. It's urgent," I nodded, walking past her to the spacious living room. "Yes, Aunt Chizu?"

Aunt Chizu glanced up from her china cup of Darjeeling tea, frowning at me slightly at the mention of the word 'aunt'. As soon as I noticed her expression of dismay, it was gone, and her features hardened, as per usual. "I'm taking you and Sakura shopping for dresses to wear at the Fashion Forward gala tonight. I suggest you," her emerald eyes skimmed my clothes. "Ahem, change into something somewhat decent to be out in public in." She glanced out at the window slowly, looking 'elegantly stoic'.

"You may go now," she says, still looking out the window. Turning away and heading for the room, I roll my eyes. Locking the door, I flop on the soft, white bed.

Promptly, I had a fit, then and there. Thank Kami the door was looked. I must've looked like an absolute retard, flailing my arms to and fro like that. After my hysterics ended, my head began pounding and my stomach began to hurt. Squirming in pain, I glanced up to see that my suitcase was a few good feet away from me.

No, I whine. I don't want to get up! I just want to sleep the weekend away! I frown, rubbing my lower back. Kami, I need an Advil.

I didn't want to get up, so I didn't. Instead, I rolled off the bed and dropped onto floor, crawling to my suitcase yet again. Sighing to myself, I pull out rolled-up black skinny jeans, a white button-up shirt and a gray tweed jacket, and a pair of black pumps. Crawling back to my bed with my clothes in my arms, I throw them on and (achingly) crawl to the bathroom.

I felt so sleepy. Mid-way to the bathroom, I slowly got up, rubbing my back. I felt so old. And even worse; I felt like the freakin' hunchback of Notre Dame. I wonder if Aunt Chizu will contemplate on keeping me in the hotel if I keep on walking with my back hunched like this. Walking around with my back hunched eased the pain on my stomach, but it made my back hurt like a b*tch.

I slip my shoes off by the bathroom door, pulling my socks off. I tiptoe in the cool marble bathroom, wincing at the sudden cold on my skin. As much as I can try to stall, I'd have to take a bath anyway. Frowning under the cold water, I fumble around with the controls, shivering when the water became colder and yelping when it became hot.

xXx

"Don't hold back," A clerk whispered to me, giving me a playful nudge. I chuckle, feeling sheepish at the gesture, awkwardly looking at the plethora of clothes in this so-called 'Barneys'.

'Barneys'; I honestly half-expected Barney the dinosaur to come out of nowhere and start singing and dancing along with random kids, hiding within the clothing racks. Rubbing my temples, I walk around, searching for an interesting rack out of the numerous others. A dark, navy blue color catches my eye, amongst a rack filled with white clothes. Stopping mid-step, I make my way to it and curiously examine its fabric. I pull it out of its place on the rack with one hand, rubbing my stomach with the other. It's laced with floral, uh, lace, and a ribbon with a bow is tied around the waist.

The simplicity of the dress sparked my interest, as I anxiously searched around it for its size. Oh, I thought, as my face fell. The dress was a few sizes smaller than me. Gathering my courage up together, I ask a clerk, "Excuse me, do you have this in a bigger size?"

'Why do you need to muster up your courage just to ask a question?' you ask? Truth be told, asking for a bigger size makes me feel as if I'm… fat. Yeah, there, I said it. Normally, I wouldn't give a flying f*ck about such unimportant things, but sometimes, I just can't help but feel conscious about what I look like.

Glancing in a nearby mirror, I hurriedly (and nervously) fix my hair for a few seconds before following the clerk to where other dresses may be.

Once we got there, I grabbed a few dresses each a size larger than the other and shuffled in the dressing room. Trying them on, I finally find one that fits me perfectly. Skipping out of the dressing rooms, I grin as I walk through the shoes department, and I settle on a pair of metallic red platform pumps. On my way to the cashier, I see Sakura out of the corner of my eye, surrounded with pairs of shoes. Rolling my eyes, I pay for the clothes and I decide to walk around before we go back to the hotel.

xXx

"Hello, Chizu, it's absolutely lovely to see you here," A blond greets us, flashing a (fake) grin at us. Aunt Chizu returns the gesture with one (fake) grin of her own. "Good evening, Darla. You look absolutely stunning tonight!" Darla compliments, gesturing at Aunt Chizu's midnight blue frock, taking a sip of white wine out of her glass. Sakura rolled her eyes, scanning the crowd for familiar faces.

"Sakura! How wonderful to see you. It's been ages," A voice exclaims from behind Sakura and I. We both turn to face as Sakura's face scrunches up in distaste.

It's that Stacey chick from England, I thought, raising a brow at her (questionable) dress. It was short in length and was incredibly snug on her, probably intending to 'enhance' whatever 'curves' she has. Well, truth be told, there are no 'curves'. Last time I was at a dinner with her, she barely touched whatever food was on her plate. She had long, brown hair then, but it was now a blunt black bob. She pursed her alarmingly red lips at us, looking 'elegantly stoic', trying to maintain her 'calm, cool and collected' demeanor.

LOLJK, last time I saw her, she pushed me over the edge so much, I literally had to refrain myself from socking that stupid little upturned nose in that stupid Botox-injected, sad, pathetic excuse for a face.

Do you know what pissed me off so much? The entire week I spent there, Stacey and her f*cking supermodel friends would take criticizing jabs at me.

'Nice bags under your eyes!' I recall Stacey sneering at me. 'Thanks, they're f*cking designer!' I had snapped back, holding the shopping bags in my hands under my eyes.

B*tch.

I inhale deeply and let go of my breath. Calm down, Tomomi. It's all in the past. Who knows? Maybe she's changed for the better—

"Ah, if it isn't Tomomi? My, my; it seems as if you've gained over the time since we've seen each other last," Stacey taunts, raising one of her 'natural' (fake) bushy brows at me. "At least I have something to show in this dress, Stacey. Unlike your twig-like physique," I roll my eyes.

She narrows her eyes at me, putting a hand over her (non-existent) hip. "I'll have you know that I am dating one of the richestmen in New York!"

Cool story, bro.

I feign a look of shock. "You've stooped so low as to date with old, gray men? To think that you're just about my age,"

She presses her lips together, as if searching for a (good enough) comeback. Bring it on, b*tch. Refusing to waste my time, I nonchalantly reply, "You've sure been thinking long enough. I'll save you the trouble and pressure on that poor little brain, since I've got to go do something actually worth my time. Sayonara," Waving a hand at her with a small smirk, I stride away, feeling my legs slightly quiver.

I had never insulted her that much, until now. I grin, walking to the table serving food. Taking a plate off of a stack, I grab random hors d'oeuvres, slightly feeling alone. Consciously, I slowly cease taking the finger foods, wary that others may be looking at me. Biting my lip, I glance around for an empty area to eat my food in.

In each direction I turn to, I see people in lavish suits and dresses. As I glanced up for a second at the massive chandelier overhead, my eyes land straight ahead in the direction of the balcony seconds shortly after. Full-length glass doors were thrown open to the balcony, which was decorated with sparkling lights.

I awkwardly walk across the room, making sure none of the hors d'oeuvres fall onto the fancy-schmancy carpeted floor.

Once I'm out, I'm greeted with the fresh air, along with a tinge of a smoky scent. Walking to one isolated corner, I carefully place my plate on the railing, making sure it didn't fall as I continued holding onto it with a firm grip.

Heaving a sigh, I take in the breathtaking scene of New York City, with colorful lights dotting the far stretches of Manhattan. On the streets, I see countless taxis and cars, stuck in the traffic on the way home.

"Headlice Hayashi? Tomomi, is that you?" I stiffen at the childhood moniker, bestowed unto me by Sakura during my childhood. Slowly, I turn to face the person uttering the much unappreciated nickname. Promptly, my eyes widen, and my heart skips a beat.

"Sho…"

Haha! Cliffhanger! Sorry for the late update. Whenever I get on the computer, someone or something always manages to get me off of it, out of obligation. Please review? What did you think about this chapter? It's longer, ne? Thanks to all who've reviewed the last chapter!

~JellyDonut16~

P.S. Remember Sho?