Day 19: Clan Traditions/Secret Relationship

The fabric of the trench coat clings to his body, keeping him warm in the brutal Konoha winter. His black leather shoes tap the sidewalk as he hurriedly weaves through huddled crowds, his broad shoulders a few inches above everyone else he eagerly passes. When his assistant reminded him of the ring appointment earlier in the day, he begrudgingly cleared his afternoon. His family is strict, very set in their ways; the Uchiha take marriage seriously—whoever they choose to live the rest of their life with is ultimately an extension of them, representing them to the fullest degree. Being one of Konoha's eight elite families, their traditions are still just as important today as they were hundreds of years ago.

He hustles by a small flower shop; the sliding door decorated in red poinsettias for the holidays—perhaps a nice bouquet will make up for their situation—women like flowers, right? He approaches the sliding door and sees a woman behind the counter with pink hair; her facial expressions are animated as she talks to an older gentleman about various flowers and their meanings. He walks around the cozy shop, the bouquets on display are elaborate and plush, simple, and unique; why has he never stopped here before?

Someone clears their throat, his head whips to the side and her petite frame stands in front of him; her green eyes rival the wispy green sprigs in the bundles of flowers displayed throughout the shop. She smiles at him, nodding towards the festive red and green bunch. She picks it up, bringing it towards her nose to smell the fresh berries and leaning, feathery sprigs. She leans it towards him, and he moves his body towards it, the expensiveness wandering around in his nostrils—not that money matters though, he is an Uchiha after all.

"It's simple and festive. The owner of the shop put this bouquet together just for the holidays. A perfect gift if you're headed to a dinner party or if you need a little 'umph' for a first date." She looks up at him through dark eyelashes, he can't tell if the pink on her cheeks is from some sort of makeup or not, but it hasn't left since he laid eyes on her when he walked in.

"I'll take it then." He coughs, realizing he's been staring at her. She nods, quickly turning away and disappearing into a back room. She reappears a few moments later, dark crimson tissue paper in hand. She motions for him to follow her towards the counter with the cash register; she silently wraps the bouquet and finishes it off with decorative twine and a blank card.

She makes small talk and the normally unapproachable and private Sasuke Uchiha, youngest son to Fugaku, the current CEO of Mangekyo Enterprises and Mikoto, one of the most famous actresses in Konoha during her heydays, replies with more than just a signature Uchiha 'hn' and a straight-lipped glare— with her, he nods and makes direct eye contact. The press would find it laughable though, how he and his brother turned out; being born into a family that required at least a few social skills, they ended up very much reserved and impassive. One could blame their parents' status; the paparazzi and tabloids documenting their mother's every move even her life while she was pregnant with both of them and their father's constant need to entertain execs across various industries to uphold the Uchiha name however the true cause of their well-mannered and reserved personalities falls back on Madara Uchiha, the CEO of Mangekyo Entertainment and the Uchiha Patriarch.

"Well, whoever you're getting those for will love them." She tucks a strand of pink hair behind her ear.

"Hn." He grabs the flowers off the counter, picking up the receipt as well. He looks at her once more, admiring her plump cheeks and dazzling green eyes before leaving the shop and facing the harsh cold again. As his feet take him to his original destination, his mind lingers on the woman in the flower shop. Her left hand carried no ring, which is hard to believe, perhaps she doesn't date. 'She's too beautiful to not too.' He thinks, 'Surely men approach her, women probably too.' He arrives outside two glass doors, the light inside reflecting off white walls creating a golden, illuminating effect. He pulls a door open and is greeted by his brother's back; sleek, long, black hair falls down his back.

"Brother," He turns around, his broad shoulders rivaling his. "Glad you could finally make it, seeing as it is your appointment." His tone laced with annoyance and a smidge of impatience, though he shouldn't be surprised by his little brother's tardiness.

"Got sidetracked." He shrugs off his older brother's sly comment, used to his passiveness since they were boys.

"Well, let's get started then?" His brother flags down the family's salesman, an older gentleman who has helped their parents buy expensive gifts throughout their marriage and their lives. A watch for his father, earrings for his mother; when money doesn't matter the gifts get smaller the longer the relationship is (at least that's what his older brother used to tell him.) The man brings over a white cone, silver rings showcased beautifully, sparkling in the light. The shapes of the diamonds vary; round, pear, princess and emerald—all of them gaudy and disgustingly ostentatious.

To his surprise and boredom, they spend about an hour discussing rings—the different cuts of diamonds and a slim band for the actual wedding—because no matter how long he tries to push it off and delay it, the wedding will come, and he will be at the end of the aisle.

"Thanks, Itachi." He looks away from his brother as they leave the shop, the appreciation he has for his older brother crawling across his pale skin in the form of a rosy, pink color. The barely shorter, older Uchiha looks at him, a small grin resting on his slim face; he's a spitting image of their father Fugaku.

"Any time, Sasuke."

His day winds down far too quick for his liking; he would rather be locked in his office hunched over stacks of papers awaiting his squiggly ink marks than share a condo with a woman he can barely tolerate. It's not an ideal situation, but it's expected of him. It was supposed to happen with Itachi, but he already decided Izumi was 'it' for him, so they wed early, and their parents focused on him—a wife by the age of 24. He's been lucky though, delaying the marriage every few months with some excuse either something has happened with the family business, and he needs to take care of it, or they haven't settled on a house to move into directly after the wedding—truth is they haven't even looked.

Because as much as he doesn't want to marry the girl his parents have set him up with, she also doesn't want to marry him. Her blonde hair pulled into small buns, her eyes the same color as the ocean waves he remembers from the family vacations he went on as a kid; she's two years older than him and the sister of a government official in another country, elite at its finest. Of course, his businessman daddy and beloved actress mommy would find someone with just as much status as him, if not more, to be bound and tied with forever— because divorce is not an option to the Uchiha.

He pads over to his bed from his bathroom, grey sweats hanging loosely around his hips. There's a knock on his door, "C'min." He walks to the windows on the right side of his room, the sparkling city lights of Konoha take turns competing with the stars in the sky. The door opens and he can feel her presence standing inside the door; she doesn't step any further recognizing his need for boundaries. "Temari." He turns around and nods at her.

"Your parents want to see us for dinner tomorrow night."

"Did you tell my assistant?"

"Yes."

He stares at her blankly, unwilling to read the room and understand what she's saying outside of the few words she used. He doesn't move an inch, he's not a physical touch kind of guy. She bites her lip, stopping words from tumbling out, and exits his room. He sighs, closing the door behind her. He hates his living arrangement, in fact, he hates his life arrangement, but he can't complain. No, he's an Uchiha. He has all the money in the world and a future that was granted to him before he was even born; people spend their whole lives looking for a purpose and he's privileged enough to have his decided before he's taken his first breath.

The next day follows his usual routine of leaving the condo before his roommate, scratch that soon-to-be-wife, can wake up, staying in his office cradling documents and drinking cup after cup of coffee. It isn't until his assistant knocks on his door and opens it that he realizes it's well into the afternoon.

"You have a meeting with Mr. Nara in 20 minutes." Her glasses hang low on the nose of her bridge, the leather binder in her arm filled with notes and reminders from him; he nods once acknowledging her monotoned words. She shuts the door, and he sighs, spinning in the oversized leather chair. He exhales, looking out the window and down on the bustling city. He looks towards the west, searching for the neighborhood the small flower shop is in. He recalls her pink hair and the warmth she exuded when she spoke to him. She didn't know who he was, or maybe she didn't care, and those few moments were refreshing, palette cleansing.

There's another knock on the door and he whips his chair around, flying out of it and towards the fancy restaurant he's been to far too many times in the past few months. The meeting goes just as he thought it would; the paperwork is almost finalized, and Mangekyo Enterprises will acquire another valuable competitor in the microchip industry. He leaves the restaurant with his trusted lawyer, the two men walking side by side along the busy sidewalk. Two men who could buy half of the city if they wanted, it truly is disgusting how much money and power their families have, and they did nothing to deserve it. 'Pathetic' he thinks.

Shikamaru is a trusted family friend; his father and grandfather working closely with the Uchiha to dominate their respective industries. Mikoto Uchiha and Yoshino Nara frequented the same parties when they were younger and when they both found out they were having babies around the same time, they got closer. Now their sons are in their mid-twenties and well-versed in the family business, and still both very much single.

Shikamaru offers a hardy nod to Sasuke before heading in the other direction; that's one reason he and Shikamaru get along so well. They don't waste their breath saying useless words, instead they get things done. Their relationship has always been like this; the mutual understanding of each other's position in the family business connecting them in ways most could never understand, the pressure to marry and start a family gets heavier every day.

He finds himself walking down a familiar street, the trench coat hanging on to his body blocking out the cool gusts of wind. He approaches the small flower shop; a head of pink hair moves across the floor as an elderly woman with a cane follows close behind. He steps into the warm store, the familiar smell of dirt and fresh plants settle in his nostrils; he relaxes his shoulders, not realizing they were stiff in the first place.

He doesn't know why he's in the shop, what could have possibly possessed him to stroll in, but as he turns towards the door her voice calls out and it's as smooth as he remembers.

"Didn't like them?" She steps towards him, her beige sweater hugging her curves, the maroon skirt and black tights keeping her bottom half warm. Her pink hair is thrown up and pinned loosely to her head with a gold clip, strands falling out around her face. She looks so effortlessly beautiful.

He doesn't say anything, instead motioning towards the same looking bouquet. He doesn't know whether she liked the flowers, he didn't ask and frankly, he doesn't care. The girl in front of him nods, touching a green sprig in the bouquet, "How 'bout we switch out the red for white ones?"

He nods.

She makes small talk as she creates a new bouquet full of dark green strings and white flowers. She doesn't pry, instead sharing parts of her life. He finds out she's a nurse helping her friend, the owner of the shop, while she's away seeing family. He takes note of everything she reveals about herself and all her mannerisms like when she bites her lip when she's trying to remember something or when she covers her mouth when she laughs.

And as soon as it started it's over and he finds himself out in the cold wind, wandering back to the office with a bouquet in hand. He spends the rest of day in his office reading over papers and setting up meetings to tour factories; his father finds it's a waste of time, but he enjoys getting out of the office and away from the city sometimes, and the fact that he can still bury his nose in work while doing so makes it that much better.

There's a knock on his door and his assistant stands in front of him, her coat on, bags in hand. "You have dinner with your parents and Temari in 30 minutes. Don't be late." She narrows her eyes on him, hoping her words went through one of his ears. She clears her throat, annoyed her boss hasn't acknowledged a word she said.

He looks up, his left hand rubbing his temple. He nods and she exits without another word; she's worked for the Uchiha long enough to know the men aren't much for conversation. He gets up from his desk and grabs the bouquet, he makes his way to the fancy restaurant his parents had their first date at, the restaurant they make him and Itachi eat at when something big is happening.

He enters the dim restaurant, the white tablecloths and servers parading around in black vests taunt him; whatever his parents have planned has to be at his demise. He finds them in their usual spot, a corner booth hidden away from the public where they can discuss family affairs comfortably, only because they're at his expense.

He forcefully hands her the bouquet and sits down across from his parents, his mother sipping on her usual red wine while his father has his usual gin. Temari sits directly across from his mother, the black dress on her body is one he's never seen before; this can't be good. The waiter stops by their table, and he orders his usual beer.

"Well," His mother starts, looking at the couple in front of her, "How are you two?" The smile on her face is fake, but no one outside the family would be able to tell thanks to her years of acting.

"Hn." Is all he says, avoiding his father's harsh gaze. He has an idea where this is going, and once again he'll make an excuse to postpone the wedding.

"Your wedding is in 6 months. Your mother has the caterer and venue already booked. Invitations have been ordered and will be sent out once we get them in and check them over. Sasuke, you will be married by the end of this year." His father vaguely explains, his eyes packing lethal punches and kicks as he continues, "We are tired of the excuses and so are Temari's family. We've talked to her brothers, and they are expecting their sister to be married in 6 months. The marriage will happen whether you want it to or not. This is final." His father leans back in the booth, sipping on his drink as he burns holes into his son.

Sasuke doesn't say anything, instead, shaking his head, gritting his teeth, and remaining silent for the sake of his inheritance. As the silence settles in and he looks between his parents and Temari on his right realizing there is no budging this time, he gets up from the table and makes a beeline for the exit. He knows his behavior is childish, running away from his obligations and duties as an Uchiha, the reputation of the family rests on him and Itachi, but an arranged marriage is too much even for him. He doesn't know where he's going, but he knows he needs to get away from his family.

He stands outside of a small ramen shop, the warm glow of the lights draws him in, and he pulls open the door. As he steps in, he's met with green eyes, her pink hair in a messy bun on top of her head. She smiles, the bag in her arms as tall as her torso.

"Hey." She greets him, her smile is soft as her red lips push into her pink cheeks.

He nods, his eyes jumping around as he tries to calm himself down.

"Wanna join me?" She takes her bottom lip between her teeth, nervous obvious as she waits for her answer. "As friends." She quickly adds, realizing he hasn't answered yet.

"Okay."

That night changed it all. They share ramen and three too many bottles of soju in her tiny apartment and usually quiet and very closed off Sasuke Uchiha tells the bubbly and very friendly flower shop girl about his life; his older brother and his parents, the arranged marriage he's been desperately running from for years and she doesn't judge, instead she listens as he talks. He hates talking, but realizes he likes talking if she's the one listening.

He learns her name is Sakura Haruno and she's a med student at the university, she graduates next year and will start working at the hospital under Dr. Senju and the more she talks the more he's fascinated with the exciting life she lives and refuses to plan and maybe that's what Sasuke Uchiha needs in his life— maybe Sakura Haruno is his answer to getting away from his suffocating family and all their traditions.

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a/n: late ssmonth23 post but I loved this piece and had to share! This is part 1 of 2! Follow me on twitter /GSatellWrites23