Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto

Chapter 3

It was just a bit past seven; people were most like ants at that time of day. Scurrying along the sidewalk with their briefcases, yelling into cell phones and honking in their cars, wincing and cursing when the only sun light that could shine through between the gaps of the skyscrapers hit their eyes – welcome to the cement jungle, where chaos and order held hands but wore fake smiles. Overhead, not a cloud was in sight. The sky was bluer than ever, as if it was trying to get the attention of the busy little beings down below. Even the children were too preoccupied with hoping for a car crash or two. Maybe that's why popcorn stands were set up around the street corner, to provide the Innocent Bystanders (Inc.) a source of food while they watched the drama stirred up by an accident. One man claimed that his favorite part would be when the police arrived. "It adds an ounce of spice to the whole shebang," he said.

Defeated, the sapphire sky drew its gray-cloud curtain and packed up. Its sole audience, Haruno Sakura, or the Girl who Cared™, gave it a silent applause before sighing and entering Le Grand Hotel, the most dazzling tree in the jungle. Sakura imagined the thing spreading its sneaky roots, attaching them on to other buildings, and sucking the nutrients out of them. Quiet pleasant, don't you think? Having been acquaintances with a life-sucking creature, Ino, she knew the invisible pain.

"Good morning," she greeted Kiba, her fellow guard and the only person she warned about the mystery man she saw two days ago, besides Kankuro of course.

"Hey," he waved at her in a very urgent manner. "Sorry, can't talk, gotta go to the café; my breakfast is very possessive and she can get jealous real easily."

Sakura smiled. "Well, tell her that she's very lucky to have a man like you eating her," she said and patted the big white dog beside him. Another point to the pet-allowing hotel!

"Thanks, Sakura. See you around! C'mon, Akamaru."

It was at times like that she'd wish she had a guard dog to accompany her during work. Not that she would need it, seeing as her job burns about as much calories as wrestling a piece of cabbage leaf, but it would make her feel a lot safer. In movies, the security guards who watched the cameras were usually the first to go.

Stop being so silly, she shook her head clear of the worries and took a sip from her cup; as she walked on, the sound her heels made – the clear, crisp, and finger-snapping-like sound – across the elegant beige marble floor quelled any lingering malevolent thought in her mind. Sakura loved the marble floor. It was shiny, kind of like diamonds, and she could just stare at it for the longest time. If the world's hardest rock was a girl's best friend, then a floor made of marble was probably eligible to be the girl's bridesmaid.

They had marble floors in grand and august places – castles, palaces, and all that. As childish as it might seem, Sakura often fantasized about having a prince sweep her off her feet, which would be planted on the very marble floor she was walking on. Then again, fairytales weren't really made for kids. Feeling rather sheepish, Sakura sniffed and took a turn to get to the elevators.

"Bwah!" she yelped as she slipped – that morning, Marble-chan wasn't very nice; that morning, the floor at the elevators was wet. Sure, it was clean, but it was destined to get dirty again, and hot coffee on a lady's clothes would be no fun at all. In face, hot anything on a lady's clothes wouldn't be the least bit of fun. Hot men, on the other hand…

"Phew," she sighed, grateful that she caught her balance in time before the deadly slip-and-fall. To prevent another threatening situation, Sakura gulped down what's left of her caffeinated goodness and threw the cup into a nearby trash can.

She pressed for one of the lifts and waited for its arrival from the 36th floor. Already impatient, Sakura decided to visit the bathroom to kill time. It was behind the doors that lead to the stairs. Once inside, Sakura was delighted to find that no one else was there; she didn't like fixing her hair in front of the mirror with another person beside her. Ino was the opposite of that. She'd kill to outshine another girl, especially if she could check herself out at the same time.

Sakura took a quick glance at her reflection and put on the security hat she was holding. It kept her pink hair up and tucked away, and it concealed half her face. Pretty much all that was left to see was the tip of her nose and a confident smile, coated with sparkling ruby lip-gloss. She smoothed out some of the wrinkles in her uniform. It consisted of a white blouse plus the company of a white skirt; both had black rims, just like her hat. Of all colors, why white? She had wondered. Kankuro's angels? Oh, God, no. It wasn't ugly – Sakura jumped with glee at the decent attire, but it made her look like a flight stewardess.

"Hello, and thank you for flying Hotel in the Air. Our destination will be Doom, because there's an evil guy who came out of an even more evil guy's suite, and did nothing during his whole elevator ride," she muttered, thinking of the man with raven hair, who was quite ridiculously good looking. It's always the good looking ones, she thought and adjusted her hat prior to leaving the bathroom. They just stand there, all handsome, and they kill.

Appalled to see that the elevator was making a brief stop on the 17th floor, Sakura looked to the other ones, and a plan formed in her mind: she would climb up to the ninth floor and take the elevator that was staying there. If successful, she would then have burned about as many calories as it would take to wrestle a whole cabbage. The idea of climbing all the way up to 75 was laughable; someone like Mr. Rock Lee would probably do it, though.

Sakura went through the doors again and began climbing the stairs. It was kind of a dusty place, seeing as how most people took the elevators, even if they stayed on the second floor. To her surprise, she heard some mumbling coming from above. It was not happy mumbling either. Instinct, and maybe sheer curiosity told her to investigate, and she took off her heels. She tried hard not to make a sound; the echoes would be terribly loud.

"-held back?" a man with a deep voice was hissing. Sakura tiptoed up a few more steps. She was at the turning that leads to the fourth floor when she saw two figures. She squatted down and hid; the only things visible were their shadows. "This mission is paramount in our operation."

A mission and an operation… she repeated in her head as she shifted a little, licking her lips while waiting for the other person's reply.

"And it will succeed, Mr. Uchiha," the other – a woman- said, sounding raspy and somewhat intimidated.

Uchiha? Wh-what is going on? Sakura was ruminating the choice of getting closer, and then the first man spoke again.

"It will. You, however, will not."

"S-sir?"

A thud and a groan of pain followed – was the man pinning the girl on to the wall?

"Herris won't spare you," the Uchiha guy whispered, his voice still tense. Great, Sakura gulped. Mafia man is involved. Whatever happened to young lovers meeting in the stairs because their parents didn't want them to be together?

There was a period of silence, excluding the woman's soft whimpers and the thumping of Sakura's nervous heart.

"-but I will."

Sakura widened her eyes. Screw it, she thought, putting on her shoes in the quickest and quietest way, and sprinted up to where the suspense was. "How may I help you two?" she asked; the girl let out a scream and the man turned around, taking his hand off the girl's collar – the slightest inkling of shock appeared on his face and was gone the next second. Sakura gasped as she got a better look: it was the man with raven hair and the girl with the unique taste in make-up from the Leaf. "Um – is there a problem here?" she asked; when her green eyes made contact with the man's eyes, she looked away and nodded at the girl.

"Nothing," the girl shook her head. "I delivered the wrong order that he placed at the Leaf diner."

How consistent with your conversation, Sakura raised an eyebrow. "Then go get the right one," she said and patted the teenager. She used and arm to act as a shield between the girl and Mr. Uchiha, whose mouth twitched a bit, as if he was going to smirk. "And sir, there is no need to get violent about food."

"Hn, forget about it then," he said and walked into the fourth floor elevator lobby through the emergency exit doors.

The girl brushed Sakura's arm off her. Sakura sighed. "I still have to escort you down to the main hall."

"Fine."

- -

"Great job, Miss Haruno," Kankuro said from his chair. They were in his office; the windows were the walls on one side of the room, making it ever so bright. Who would have thought – Kankuro, a dark creature, residing in a place full of sunshine and happiness? There was a gigantic TV, two fridges, a bed, a bar with a microwave, some puppets in the corner, and Sakura suspected the presence of a Jacuzzi hiding somewhere. No wonder the man never took breaks.

"But I hardly got a thing out of them."

"It shows that Bob Herris is up to something, and that the raven haired guy you saw is helping him."

"I don't know about help," Sakura muttered. "He let the girl go."

"How kind of him! Shall we nominate him for the Nobel Peace prize?"

"…Very…clever, boss."

Kankuro laughed. "I know, right? The Nobel Peace prize…ahem. Seeing as you've already done so much on this," he said, "why don't I give you another project? You won't have to stay in that depressing camera room."

"Tempting, but I might miss my favorite show," Sakura said. She didn't even get to watch one person in the elevator.

"Whatever that means, Miss Haruno," Kankuro cleared his throat again and sipped some of his "apple juice."

"May I ask what the project is?"

"No. You will either take it or leave it."

I will stop the elevator you're in one day, and make you beg for mercy, Sakura glared at her boss.

"Well? Neither of us is growing younger."

"Tch," Sakura took a big breath. "Alright, I'll take it."

"Good choice, Miss Haruno," Kankuro curled his lips. He opened one of his drawers and took out a file. "Let's go over the details, shall we?"

- -

The Rosemary was the best restaurant in Le Grand Hotel. Set on the 80th floor, it overlooked most of the surrounding buildings, and the view at night was no simple beauty to describe. There are twenty tables – five for two and the rest are for four, but once ten of the tables are occupied, no extra people are allowed in. The Rosemary was also known as the only place in the hotel that didn't allow animals. With eight waiters, it offered great service, and not one guest was ever neglected. Each table held various magazines, books, and newspapers to choose from when a guest is waiting for food. Attached to each chair was an iPod with a fresh pair of earphones and a multifarious music library to appeal to all types of guests.

The tables have a distance of three meters in between each other, blessing the people with privacy, tranquility, and space; they will have plenty of stretching room while ordering their meal as well. Though expensive, the level and taste of its culinary goods were beyond compare. The recipes were created for the mouths of the richest, and the owner plans to keep it that way. That day, however, The Rosemary's tightly shut gates were open to a woman who was not quite rich – Haruno Sakura.

I can't believe this, she thought as she paged at her surroundings. She was in The Rosemary, a place made out to seem like it wasn't for mortals. The color theme was purple, making her feel as if she was getting her fortune told. The soft, gentle piano music in the background added some more to the mysterious aura. Sakura believed that even if she were just there for an omelet, she would take hours to finish it. There were heavy curtains covering parts of the large windows in case someone didn't want too much sunlight.

Merely four tables, including hers, were filled; a waiter told her that people preferred to see the city at night. One man was sitting across from her on the other side of the restaurant. An old couple and their son were sitting by the windows. Two tables to their left, and perpendicular to Sakura's table was her target: Bob Herris and Uchiha Sasuke, whose full name was found on the guest list to the 60th anniversary of Macs Inc. There she was, sitting in the left corner of the pinnacle of restaurants, watching the two men eat their lunch. Sakura was asked to snap pictures, record conversations, and write detailed descriptions of the encounter, including a list of what food they were ordering.

Soon, Kankuro, soon, she narrowed her eyes as she typed away on her phone. "No one will suspect that you're keeping a log of the men's movements if you do it on your phone," her boss had said. "It'll look like you're one of those people who can't seem to stop SMS-ing."

"The subject is unable to hear the objects' conversation at the moment," she typed before putting it down for a break. She used one hand to grab her cup of tea and the other to scratch her hair, or rather, her wig. Despite having told Kankuro that Uchiha Sasuke never saw her pink hair, he still forced her to put a pile of red on her head.

She watched the two men – Sasuke faced her – point at items on their menus and their waiter jotting down the names. Sakura gave a wave to her waiter, who nodded and approached. "Are you ready to order?" she asked, winking. Kankuro had requested the waiter to cooperate with Sakura's work.

Sakura smiled and flipped through the menu, pausing only to tap her finger at some random dish. "If it's not too much trouble," she said as she pointed at another dish, "could you give me a copy of their printed order?"

"Gladly, Miss," the waiter said, pretending to record what Sakura was pointing at.

"Just in case, send me something cheap so it'd look like I ordered."

"To tell you the truth, there is nothing cheap here, but since it's an exception, I'm sure I can work something out for you."

"Thank you," Sakura whispered and handed her the menu.

She flipped open the phone again; it was 12:45. In another forty-five minutes, The Rosemary would be closing until dinnertime. What could they possibly do? Sakura pondered as she took a newspaper from under the table. From the corner of her eye, she saw that Sasuke was pulling out a folded piece of paper.

"…all set," he was saying to Bob, who accepted the paper.

"And the girl?" Bob's voice was louder. They should be talking about the one from the Leaf, Sakura tried to connect their conversation to the little she knew about them.

"Taken care of."

"You know how to get your job done, don't you, boy?"

"Hn."

He killed her? Sakura let out a small gasp of horror. I thought he was going to spare her…

"L'omelette provençale," the waiter returned and placed the food in front of her.

"God, you scared me," breathed Sakura.

"Sorry, Miss," replied the waiter. "And this is the cheapest."

She stared at the yellow – golden, almost – omelet, with red and green pepper, and sausage mixed inside. It was glowing, and the aroma made her dizzy with pleasure. "I don't think I want to know the price."

"This dish originates from France, but it's been perfected with the touch of the Rosemary chefs," the waiter explained. "Enjoy, and call me if you need anything else."

Sakura took a bite of the omelet and smiled. She kept her ears opened, though. And where is that copy of their order?

"It's hard to trust people when you're me," Bob said, looking out the window. "Even a teenage girl failed me…"

"She simply didn't know the value of life," Sasuke said.

During the next thirty minutes, the two of them rarely conversed with each other. Bob received two phone calls, one of which required him to answer at the counter; Sasuke went to the rest room once, but since the timing didn't match with the phone calls, Sakura didn't think that Sasuke was one of the callers. Unless, of course, he called another person, told him what he wanted to say, and asked the other person to call Bob and deliver the message.

Sakura had finished her food and her stomach was whining. I brought a gun but not a sandwich, she rested her chin in her palm. Oh, happy, happy day. She peered at their table and saw that they still didn't have any food on it. Either the kitchen was too slow or -?

"I'm leaving it to you," said Bob. He scribbled something on the piece of folded paper and passed it back to Sasuke.

"Subject wishes she could see what Object #1 wrote on the paper," Sakura typed; Sasuke read the little message and gave a nod as Bob Herris stood up to leave. She pretended to be indulged with a story on leaking pipes in the Mediterranean while Bob made his way past her, using a walking stick to support him. It didn't make him look any less frightening; there was probably a dagger under the big gold handle.

A waiter soon walked up to the table with a maroon box in his hand. Sasuke opened the box and smirked. Sakura bit her lip, watching him send off the waiter and putting the lid back on. He then stood up to leave.

This was a waste of time, Sakura thought and slouched a bit from disappointment. When the man walked by her table, he threw the box at her. "What the -!" she gasped and caught it.

"For your hard work," he said. Sakura felt her head – the wig had slipped off a bit from the impact. Her mouth hung and her body froze as Sasuke walked away. The waiter who was serving Sakura waved her hand in front of Sakura's face with apprehension. "Miss?"

"…What…"

"The, um, copy of their order."

Sakura snapped out of her trance and pulled off the wig. "It took you long enough," she said and snatched the receipt: there was only one item on it. Afraid of what she would find inside, Sakura removed the lid of the box. She felt her temper rise; it was a plate of freshly roasted pork, the dish that was displayed on the receipt –

He had known from the start.

Author's Note: I hope this chapter was worth the wait! Hehe, and take the time to review, please :)