A/N: I apologize in advance for any grammatical/spelling mistakes in this chapter, the previous one and the coming ones. Unfortunately, English isn't my first language. Thank you for the lovely comments, it really gives me motivation to write more.
Warning! There is harsh language in this chapter.
P.S: Each scene differs in time and setting.


Sakura had been just putting her dress on when Oshiro slammed open the door.

"Dammit boss!" Ino screeched from in front of the vanity, where she had been busy powdering her nose. "Have you ever heard of knocking?"

The rest of the girls - some also in similar undressed states – murmured in discord. The newcomers tried to duck behind each other, arms crossed in a last desperate attempt at modesty. The girls who had been around longer, including Ino and Sakura, maintained their composure and continued getting ready. They were used to this derogatory behavior by their boss.

They were objects, after all. Simply tools to make money. Their opinion was insignificant.

Just like they were oblivious to his shamelessness, Oshiro was oblivious to Ino's baby blue eyes glaring in his direction.

"What are you looking at?" he barked at a group of girls standing frozen in their vests, staring at him. "Go get ready! We haven't got all fucking day."

They complied immediately.

Sakura took advantage of the commotion to quickly slip into her black cocktail dress, fastening the straps and adjusting the tight fabric so that it hugged her curves perfectly. If even a little thing was out of place, Oshiro would be displeased.

And when Oshiro was displeased, well, he put all his effort into ensuring that the workplace was hell for the offender.

"Yamanaka, where's Pinky?" She heard him demand. Sakura narrowed her emerald eyes.

He's been on my case the whole day. Something must be up.

Oshiro had a particular disliking towards Sakura and, as long as he wasn't in his sadistic moods, he pretended she didn't exist. It was probably because, unlike the other girls, she wasn't an extraordinary beauty or had an exquisite body - sue did not seem like an immediate asset.

But she was sturdy and could handle odd jobs around the place. Throwing out the trash, cleaning the tables, mixing drinks, giving first-aid – leave it to Pinky.

And she was what Oshiro begrudgingly called 'street smart'. She could easily size up guests on the first meeting and entertain them as well as the ever-popular Ino Yamanaka could.

Ino shrugged in response to his anger-fueled inquiry, turning back to the mirror to complete her makeup.

"Pinky!"

"I'm here, I'm here." Sakura stepped out from behind the screen.

Oshiro's squinty eyes trailed up and down her figure for a second before he walked forward to grab her arm. "Come with me," he ordered shortly.

"But it's my shift at the bar counter." Sakura replied stiffly.

"Fuck that. Leave it to Yamanaka." He commenced dragging her out of the dressing room.

"Me?" Ino gasped in horror. "But I just got my manicure done! What if I chip it?"

Oshiro grunted, clearly the last person who cared.

"But Boss…" Ino whined, pouting.

Sakura quickly escaped from his grip and said hurriedly, "I'll be out in a minute. Just let Ino do my makeup first." She had understood now that she would have to entertain soon. And guessing from Oshiro's impatience, it must be an important guest.

Oshiro grumbled, muttering curses under his breath as he went to wait outside.

"Sorry, Ino," Sakura said as the blonde leaned forward to brush silver eye shadow across Sakura's eyelids.

"What are you apologizing for, Forehead Girl? You know I'm always glad to do your ugly mug."

They muffled their laughter before Oshiro could hear them.

"No, I meant my shift. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Oh, please," Ino said dismissively. "I was just being dramatic. The guys are always cuter at the counter." She grimaced. "On the downside, they're probably alcoholics…"

"No, I really mean it. I'm sorry."

"There! All done." Ino turned her shoulders so that Sakura could see her reflection. As always, Ino had done the most in the least amount of time. Pink, glossy lips, eyes accentuated with eyeliner and eye shadow, skin glowing with a muted radiance. She looked like the perfect mixture of innocence and mischievousness.

Sakura smiled at Ino through the mirror, squeezing the hand resting on her shoulder warmly.

"Also…" she hesitated. "About that little favor I asked of you…"

Ino blinked a few times before understanding dawned in her blue eyes. "And I thought you were the most practical of all of us." She sighed, shaking her head in disapproval. "You never cease to surprise me, Forehead."

"Pinky!"

Sakura got up hurriedly as Oshiro burst in again to drag her out again.

"Don't worry about it!" She heard Ino shout out from behind her as she followed her boss down the dimly lit corridor. Just as she expected, they were going to the private lounges.

"Who is it?" she asked calmly.

Oshiro sneered. "That's none of your business. All you need to know we're all going to get a lot of money at the end of the day."

That wasn't good enough. She needed to at least have a vague idea of what she was going into.

"Boss."

In response, Oshiro's stubby hand dug into her arm to the point of pain.

"A… VIP."


Naruto's stomach grumbled. For the fourth time that day.

He was standing across the street from a Japanese-style restaurant, looking at the customers eat with a dazed expression on his tanned face. Just as he had expected, the motel owner had kicked him out that very morning and now he was out on the streets with just enough money for one measly bowl of miso soup. Even if he did utilize this money now, he thought dejectedly, he would be back to square one.

So what? His stomach responded. At least you'll have a full stomach.

But then he'd have to work for money. At construction sites and other grimy places.

So what? Udon noodles floating in thick beef stock.

And he wouldn't have a roof to sleep under. Even the free public saunas knew his face and had adopted a strict No Naruto policy.

So what? Steamed mackerel with spring vegetables and rice.

And his only companion would be this grumbling stomach.

So what? I promise I won't be grumbling after some delicious sukiyaki.

A determined glint appeared in his eyes as he stood up straighter and, without a single look back, walked away from the restaurant. He was a grown man who could make grownup decisions and he would prove that today.

Only minutes later, he was seen hurrying back into the restaurant and, though obviously not being able to afford it, loudly ordering seven portions of food for himself. After all, he thought smugly, why wouldn't they give a generous discount to a dashing blonde with ocean blue eyes?

They didn't.


The hallways were dimly lit with old-fashioned lanterns. Brick walls, wrought-iron grills, majestic landscape paintings - Danzo seemed to have been a man of good taste.

But none of that mattered to Sasuke. He walked briskly past them, his mind concentrated on only one thing - the men assembled inside the dining room ahead. Orochimaru matched his every step, an ever-present shadow. Sasuke paused briefly in front of the towering wooden double doors as they parted, allowing him a view inside.

The grand dining table stretched from the one side of the room to another. Candle stands were placed strategically on top at various parts, illuminating the different men sitting around the table. A low hum of conversation had been echoing around that ceased the moment Sasuke walked into the room. In unison, everyone turned their heads in his direction.

Eyes.

Everyone's eyes were on him.

Without a single change in expression, Sasuke walked over to the head of the table. A tall man with long orange hair stood there, a chair pulled out for him.

"Thank you, Jugo."

"Master," Jugo nodded back, stepping back as Sasuke seated himself.

Sasuke looked up at the people who were avidly watching his every move. He slowly took in every face turned in his direction, satisfied that he could recognize each and every face from the data he had collected. Every pawn was within his physical reach.

Perfect.

Out of all the eyes fixated on him at that moment, Sasuke could sense Orochimaru's snake-like yellow eyes the most. Waiting, watching, expecting his next move with a contained anxiousness.

"You may be wondering," Sasuke started. His voice was low, but the sound of it carried well across the dead silent room. "Why you all are here."

A few men stirred in response, someone muttering a "you're damn right" under his breath. Somewhere among them, a man wearing a grey suit pressed a button on his recorder.

"Each and every one of you carry a significant amount of influence in your particular clique. However, you are not gathered here today to exercise that influence." Sasuke raised his chin slightly. "Rather, you are all here as witnesses and messengers."

An uneasy murmur travelled through his audience.

"Witnesses to the crowning of your new leader, Sasuke Uchiha…"

The murmur grew into an excited buzz, as the men began looking at each other with fear and confusion.

"….and messengers of the death of your former leader, Danzo Shimura."