Note: I pray to Baby Jesus that none of you were ever in an orchestra, because I have no idea if what Madara says towards the end sounds even remotely like conductor-talk. I do still know what a bunch of the terms mean form my time as a pianist, but again, I was never in an orchestra and I have no idea if a conductor would use them this way. Also, I kind of sort of perpetuated myself in this chapter, or at least my office number lol. 3.201 is the number of my own office at university and the way Madara describes it ("all the rooms are labelled" etc) is a literal word-for-word copy of how I describe the way to my office when I've got people coming in for an appointment.

And last but not least, here are the links to the pieces mentioned in the chapter: Brian Tyler's Sleight of Hand: watch?v=cbkno3IvTOc and Ludovico Einaudi's Taranta Project: watch?v=RpY4G5HJrko . Introductio ad Regnum Tarantulae, Choros, and Taranta are my personal favourites of Einaudi's album, but I posted a link to the entire album, because it is .ZINGGGG. If you only want to check out the three songs mentioned, you should search for the songs separately though instead of listening to the album version I posted above, because some of the recordings on the album are live versions and the studio recordings simply sound better.

I'm suuuuuuuuuuuuuper excited to hear your opinion on this chapter as well as the music. None of my friends or family like the sort of music that I incorporate in this story, so I'm incredibly excited to share these pieces with you and anyway asoiwjefoijsdf so yeah, bye.


Sakura was standing in front of the mirror in her hotel room scrutinising her seventh outfit. She was supposed to be at Mr Uchiha's office at the New National Theatre in two hours, and she had already spent the last 45 minutes deciding what to wear. She couldn't for the life of her come up with a decent look, since the majority of her wardrobe was very girly, all bright colours, soft lace, and flower prints. Given her fashion sense – or lack thereof, Sakura never thought that she would ever regret not owning a lot of stylish and sleek pieces. In the past, she never felt the need to buy formal and impressionable clothing, since the orchestra provided that for her whenever they were required to dress a certain way for public appearances. But now, Sakura would kill for a nice pant suit, or at least a blouse that didn't have this person is clearly colour blind written all over it.

Groaning in frustration, the young cellist slipped out of her pastel pink dress and turned to the myriad of clothes strewn across her bed. Her gaze landed on a white shirt her friends had gifted her when she was sixteen years old, right after winning the first Grand Prize at the Rostropovitch Cello Competition. The shirt showed a picture of her instrument in the middle with the words Cello: Everyone Else Is Accompaniment below it. Sakura smiled at the memory. She loved that shirt, and she loved all of her other clothes as well. She felt most comfortable in dresses and skirts and pretty little tops with unicorns and ice cream cones and flowers on them.

But she couldn't turn up to a meeting with one of the world's greatest conductors looking like she burped sunshine and farted rainbows.

As she went through her pieces of clothing looking for something more mature or at least subtler, Sakura thought back to the email Mr Uchiha had sent her two weeks ago. He always seemed so poised and mature and suave, even in his correspondence. In the maestro's presence – physical or digital – Sakura always felt like a naïve little schoolgirl asking her strict and intimidating headmaster for directions to the cafeteria. Thinking back to what she had written, she felt incredibly stupid for asking him what to do next. But then his reply came through, and Sakura couldn't have been happier.

Dear Ms Haruno,

at the risk of sounding smug, I have to say you made the right decision. But then again, I expected nothing less from you. As for what happens next – there's no need to worry, I will take of everything for you. Allow me to lead the way. I am your maestro now, after all.

Sincerely,

Madara Uchiha

Sakura got his reply at 1:20 in the morning and naturally, she was so over the moon she didn't get a wink of sleep that night. Luckily, the following days went by in a blur. She had to sign lots of paperwork for Kyoto Concert Hall, find a new tenant for her flat, answer a bunch of emails from a bunch of strangers from the New National Theatre, go to a total of four farewell-parties organised by her former orchestra's musicians, and finally say goodbye to her beloved Maestro Senju.

In the meantime, Mr Uchiha had booked her a flight to Tokyo and a hotel room in which she was free to stay for a few weeks while looking for a place to live in the capital city.

Now, two weeks later, Sakura was about to sign the contract that would change her life.

But first, she needed to change her outfit.


Madara saw her walk up the grand staircase, eyes wide with wonder, soaking up the modern and sleek architecture of the New National Theatre. The architect had worked with glass a lot and had installed windows and glass walls wherever he could, so the entire building was bathed in a natural light. Everything was understated and subtle, yet tasteful and aesthetic at the same time – all pastel colours and typical Japanese minimalism.

Amidst the rather chiselled, sophisticated, and mature look of the theatre, the young cellist stood out like a sore thumb with her bubblegum-pink hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, her white camisole top with lace applications, and the dark-green culotte pants, which she tied above her waist with a pretty little bow.

Madara decided to give her another moment to savour the view while he retreated to his office. He glanced at his watch and noted with satisfaction that she was over-punctual. She still had fifteen minutes to spare before their scheduled meeting, which gave him another fifteen minutes to force all the inappropriate teasing he thought of when he saw her to the back of his mind. Though Madara had thoroughly enjoyed rattling Ms Haruno during their previous encounter, he had to be absolutely professional now – this time he was in his territory, after all, and he had a reputation to uphold. Namely that of a tough and relentless hard-ass conductor, who didn't feel a thing at the sight of some young musician's awe-struck eyes staring up at him as if he were her personal god and saviour.

The maestro took a seat at his desk, turned on his speakers, and opened the playlist he created for the upcoming tour. Clicking on the desired music file, he let the sound of Ludovico Einaudi's Taranta envelop his office as he started jotting down notes on the corresponding sheet music.

Einaudi's Taranta Project was one of the more experimental parts of the repertoire he was planning for the tour. Frankly, he would not have even included it if Ms Haruno had not agreed to join his ensemble. The compositions Madara chose featured a strong focus on strings, and he simply couldn't imagine his orchestra performing such avant-garde pieces without a cellist who showed the same level of passion and eagerness to experiment as the composer himself.

The conductor was torn from his thoughts when he heard a knock on his office door. He lowered the volume of the song to a barely audible minimum and summoned her in.

Madara watched his principal cellist open the door and hesitantly step into the room. Her gaze roamed around his spacious office for a second before resting on him.

"Ms Haruno, welcome to Tokyo," he said as he walked around his desk to approach her.

The maestro noted another blush tainting her cheeks before she stretched out her hand to shake his. "Thank you, Mr Uchiha. You have no idea how excited I am to be here."

As he gestured for her to take a seat on the grey leather sofa, Madara heard her ask, "That was from The Taranta Project, wasn't it? Is Einaudi going to be part of our tour programme?" Madara leaned back in the armchair to Sakura's right and crossed one leg over the other. "That depends. How do you feel about opening with Choros?" He watched her eyes sparkle with excitement.

"I love that idea. But if you decide to perform the entire album, we could open with Introductio and just stick to Einaudi's original order. It's softer than Choros and would also set a better mood for Taranta. Though Choros would be more appropriate if you want to go with a darker, more mature concert."

Madara narrowed his eyes and stared at the pinkette with a pensive gaze. How could someone so seemingly shy and unobtrusive hide so much excitement, passion, and energy? The way her eyes lit up at the mention of Einaudi's pieces and the way she enthusiastically talked about the things she loved made Madara decide to ask her about her opinion more often. When she realised he wasn't answering, her eyes widened in shock and she quickly clasped a hand over her mouth, before lowering it just enough to allow herself to speak. "I'm so sorry, Mr Uchiha. I didn't mean to criticise your choices or tell you what to do. I-I just… got carried away with the excitement and everything," she stammered, fixing her gaze on her lap before letting out a shaky breath. "I'm really nervous, in case you didn't realise."

The maestro studied the cellist for another moment, before murmuring, "Why are you nervous, Ms Haruno?"

She slowly raised her head again to look at him, and Madara had to actively restrain himself from staring at her teeth nervously biting her bottom lip. Instead, he watched her pull a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

"Because… it's you," she breathed weakly.

Well, that piqued his interest.

"Care to elaborate, Ms Haruno?"

The young cellist turned her gaze away from him, now resting on her lap again where she was watching her fingers play with the ends of the ribbon she tied above her waist. "Well… it's probably silly to you, but you're… you're sort of my favourite conductor and a huge role model and just – I don't know, being in the same room with you freaks me out, let alone the thought of playing in your orchestra. Not – not freak out in a bad way," she fixed him with a frantic gaze, hands waving in front of her in defence, "I'm not saying I'm so freaked out I can't perform in your presence, just like – you know, a nervous and excited sort of freak out, the sort that makes you annoyingly self-conscious and turns you into a giant perfectionist, because you desperately want to please your idol, and so…," Sakura let out a long sigh and turned her head away in embarrassment, before laughing anxiously, "and now I need to stop rambling. Anyway, I'm sorry if I stepped on your toes with my suggestions about Einaudi's album."

As soon as she stopped talking and started biting her lip again instead, Madara had to remind himself to keep calm. He found her adorable in a harmless sort of way when she was nervous and flustered, but when she was biting her lip, she instantly became a danger to his sanity and his firm conviction that hooking up with one of his orchestra's musicians was a terrible idea.

The raven-haired conductor cleared his throat to force himself out of his inappropriate line of thought and asserted, "You have nothing to worry about, Ms Haruno. I wasn't offended by your remarks in the slightest. To be honest, I was simply astonished at first, since none of my musicians usually dare to speak their mind or give me suggestions on anything. It was a pleasant surprise, though. I think I should ask for your opinion more often."

The pinkette's shoulders visibly relaxed as her lips spread into a grateful smile, and Madara noted with satisfaction that he was the put who put it there.

"Now, before you meet with our lawyer to sign the contract, I wanted to give you the chance to talk things through, answer any questions you might have. I believe you had enough time to read through it all. Was there anything you'd like to discuss with me?"

"Um, yes, actually. Though not so much about the contract per se, that was probably the most precise contract ever drafted. But um," he watched Ms Haruno lick her lips with such a fascination as if he were witnessing the birth of Jesus Christ himself, "I did have a few questions about the repertoire and the pieces you're considering for the tour. I noticed there were a few compositions for a string quartet with a heavy focus on the cello, even some cello solos. I was just wondering if it's maybe a bit early for me to be featured so heavily. I am the youngest member of your ensemble, after all, with the least amount of experience. I'm basically a rookie compared to your other musicians."

"Let me assure you, Ms Haruno, that you are by no means a rookie in my orchestra. None of my musicians think that, especially not me. And I would never assign you anything if I wasn't absolutely certain you could rise up to it."

The doubtful look in her eyes didn't waver. "I believe you, and I really appreciate your confidence in me. It's just – I'm worried that I might get off on the wrong foot with the others if I get so much attention right from the beginning. Maestro Senju didn't give me a solo piece until I was with the orchestra for a year, and even then, some people got really jealous and upset. I just want a smooth start without any bad blood."

Of course, Madara mused, he sensed there was a deeper reason behind her uncertainty. He knew that she knew how good she was and that she could perform those solo pieces in her sleep. Her hesitance had nothing to do with her doubting her musical prowess, but everything to do with her kind disposition, almost too kind for something so competitive and cut-throat as Japan's classical music scene.

Madara decided then that it was good he had taken such a liking to her. The cellist was right – if she wasn't careful, his musicians would eat her for breakfast. Lucky for her, the big bad wolf of a conductor harboured a teeny-tiny musical crush on her.

"Ms Haruno, you are the only person in my ensemble that I have personally pursued. Everybody else had to audition, but not you, because that's just how good you are. I'm not going to leave you unnoticed in the background, that would be a waste of and insult to your talent. That being said, the tour programme isn't finalised yet, so we can talk about changing bits and pieces, depending on how well our rehearsals go. But if I'm satisfied with your performance, you will take centre stage. And if anybody has a problem with that," Madara was just about to finish his sentence with they can come to me but refrained from doing so when he realised how inappropriately possessive it sounded. "Then you should just be happy about the fact that older and more experienced musicians feel so threatened by someone so young. If anything, their jealousy is a compliment. Trust me, knowing you're better than others is a great confidence boost," the conductor added with a wicked grin.

Her melodious laughter echoed through his office which only made his smirk widen. When she calmed down, the pink-haired musician started biting her lip again, this time probably to stop herself from grinning. After another moment where Madara allowed himself to simply enjoy her carefree happiness, he added with gentle encouragement, "Seriously, Ms Haruno, don't worry about what others think of you. Our profession was and always will be highly competitive, and you will always make enemies no matter how kind you are or how many cookies you bake for your colleagues. Don't ever allow other people's inferiority complex to rain on your parade." Madara looked at her intently, his eyes softening as he murmured, "You're too good for that."

A deep blush spread across her face, and her doe-like eyes stared up at him with that look of wonder and admiration that made him want to shower her with compliments, if only she would keep looking at him that way. If he hadn't known any better, Madara could have sworn her gaze rested on his lips for a split second before meeting his eyes again.

The maestro had to physically force himself to look away. It got increasingly difficult to remain professional with all the adorable blushing and fidgeting. Here he was, a 39-year-old man who loved aged Scotch, old cars, self-assured women, and everything else that was ripe and mature in this world. And yet this young naïve little thing who was so nervous she was basically shaking in his presence, staring up at him like a lost lamb looking for shelter, stirred up a protective instinct in him he never knew he had.

Change of subject, Madara reminded himself. Right fucking now.

"Was there anything else you wanted to talk about, Ms Haruno?"

Please say no, please say no, please say no, please say –

"Yes."

Fuck.

The conductor raised an expectant eyebrow while forcing his expression to relax in an effort to mask his internal struggle. He wanted her to stay for all the wrong reasons, so he needed her to leave for all the right ones.

"About your list of rules," Sakura started off hesitantly.

Dear God, please don't mention rule number five.

The fingers of Madara's right hand dug into the armrest as he prepared himself for the worst.

"There was this one part where it said that you as the conductor choose our concert outfits. I was just wondering what fabric the clothes were made of. Because Maestro Senju tried it with velvet pant suits once and we all got a horrible rash, supposedly because of some chemicals they used to dye the fabric. I know it's silly and fabrics should be the least of your worries, but honestly, the rash was so annoying we had serious trouble concentrating on our performance. So I just wanted to make sure the clothes are… you know, normal."

Madara released a breath he didn't know he was holding in, and his fingers relaxed their grip on the leather of the armrest.

"I don't know what fabric they're made of, but I know it's not velvet, and I know nobody has ever gotten a rash or experienced any other bad reactions. But don't worry, everybody wears their concert outfits for the dress rehearsal, so should you feel uncomfortable in any way, we can still make adjustments before the actual concert."

A small smile spread across her lips, and she nodded in finality. "Great, thank you. Then that would be all for my part."

He replied with a nod of his own and stood up from his armchair. As Madara lead the cellist to his office door, he reminded her of her next appointment, "You'll see our lawyer Mr Hatake next. He'll go through the contract with you and answer any legal questions you might have. His office is on the third floor, in the Legal Department, room number 3.201. All the rooms are labelled and have door signs, so you really can't miss him."

The pinkette shot him another grateful smile. Madara offered his hand and when she took it, he gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Welcome to the jungle, Ms Haruno."

The conductor opened the door of his office and sent her away with a devilish grin.


"So you're my boyfriend's replacement, huh?"

Sakura looked up from her sheet music and was met with the face of a gorgeous blonde staring her down with a haughty look.

"Excuse me?"

Sakura took in the person in front of her and realised then she was also holding a cello case. The blonde stepped closer and took a seat right next to her.

"Shikamaru Nara. He was our principal cellist," the musician explained while opening her case.

"Oh," it dawned on Sakura. Of course. Some of her former orchestra's musicians had hinted that the only reason Maestro Uchiha was able to take on a new cellist was because he kicked out the last one.

"You must hate me now, too, huh?" Sakura shot her fellow cellist a half-hearted apologetic smile.

The blonde to her left scoffed. "Why would I hate you?"

"Because I took away your boyfriend's seat in the orchestra. You could have still played together."

"Please," the woman made a dismissive gesture with her hand, "that idiot was never coming back."

Sakura looked at her incredulously and prodded, "So you don't hate me?"

The blonde cellist shot her an amused grin, which immediately released some of the tension Sakura was feeling. "I don't hate you, silly. It's not like you were actively involved in getting him kicked out. And the Maestro was bound to replace him at some point. So relax, no hard feelings."

The pinkette laughed awkwardly before offering her hand. "I'm Sakura Haruno. It's nice to finally meet another cellist of the ensemble."

A smile tugged on the blonde's lips as she shook her hand. "I'm Temari Sabakuno. Welcome to Tokyo."

"Thanks. By the way, what did you mean with your boyfriend wasn't coming back? I assume every musician would fight tooth and nail for a place in Maestro Uchiha's orchestra."

"Not this idiot of a musician," Temari scoffed while adjusting her endpin. "To be honest, we were kind of hoping to get caught. We were both tired of sneaking around, and Shikamaru was already looking for an excuse to quit. He's not the most ambitious person, you know, so he wasn't planning on staying much longer."

"Why didn't you leave with him?"

"Because unlike him, I don't want to stare at clouds all day. I want to conquer the world," the cellist proclaimed with a proud grin. "No but seriously, I really did want to stay. Maestro Uchiha gave us a choice – either break up and stay in the orchestra or one of us leaves. It was a no-brainer, really. I still get to do what I love with one of the world's greatest orchestras, and Shikamaru can just chill."

Sakura felt a smile tugging on her lips. Even though Temari was a virtual stranger, for some weird reason, she was still happy that everything worked out well for the both of them and that – most importantly – the blonde didn't hold a grudge against Sakura.

That was at least one person in the orchestra who was nice to her so far. The pinkette's gaze roamed around and took in the many musicians scurrying around the stage and readying themselves for the rehearsal. Some of them had introduced themselves, others only smiled and nodded in her general direction. And then there were those who didn't even deem her worthy enough of a single glance. A part of Sakura felt shunned, and yet another – albeit smaller part – proud. As Maestro Uchiha had said, everybody else in his ensemble was so much older and so much more experienced than her. What did it say about them if they felt threatened about someone so young?

Not that she needed a lot of encouraging from her conductor – she knew she deserved her place in his orchestra – but for some reason, being praised and complimented by Maestro Uchiha felt so much better than being praised by anybody else, even her previous conductor. Sakura couldn't wait to show his entire orchestra what she's got and to prove to her Maestro that he made the right decision in choosing her.

The chatter suddenly quieted down as their conductor entered the stage.

Sakura noticed that her Maestro had a penchant for wearing three-piece suits in dark colours. He never failed to uphold the suave and refined appearance he was known for, though sometimes he would discard his suit jacket and roll up his sleeves for a more relaxed look, like he did for rehearsal today.

The pink-haired cellist had to remind herself not to stare too much. Her Maestro was illegally handsome, but he was still her Maestro.

He tapped his baton against his music stand twice to signal the whispering flautists to quiet down. Once he had everyone's attention, he let his cold and calculating gaze roam through the rows of musicians who were all expectantly looking up at him. It was clear to Sakura that Maestro Uchiha demanded everyone's undivided attention and that he had no problem commanding each and every one of this 73 musicians with nothing but silence and a good old-fashioned intimidating stare.

"Before we start with our first rehearsal for the upcoming tour, allow me to address the elephant in the room. As you all know by now, the Tokyo Metropolitan Symphony Orchestra has got a new member as of this April. Ms Sakura Haruno joined us from Kyoto Concert Hall and will fill in our vacant spot of principal cellist."

Maestro Uchiha's eyes rested on her for a fleeting second as he spoke her name. Gone was the teasing and relaxed conductor she talked to in his office four days ago.

This was not Mr Uchiha.

This was Maestro Uchiha.

Calculating, in control, and completely in his element.

"Now, let's show Ms Haruno how well we can all work together. We're starting with Brian Tyler. Everybody take out your sheet music for Sleight of Hand. Strings, I want you to remember the sudden crescendo at the beginning. Flautists, I want to hear a seamless transition from staccato to legato between the fourth and fifth bar. Once Ms Haruno begins her pizzicato in the seventeenth bar, I want the violinists pianissimo as well as Mr Uzumaki with the xylophones in the eighteenth bar."

This was it, Sakura thought excitedly. She usually never felt such a thrill during rehearsals, only at concerts. But this was a rehearsal under Maestro Uchiha. She felt goosebumps spread across the entirety of her skin as she readied herself and her instrument. Glancing up at her new Maestro, she caught his intense gaze. He gave her the slightest hint of a smile.

And then, he raised his baton.

"From the top."