Chapter 4: Juxtaposition

Hinata rummaged through her bag and took out her favorite pen. She was just starting to scribble some notes when the staff from the imperial office finally walked in.

A man, long-haired and handsome in a navy blue suit, strode to the front of the room and introduced himself.

"I'm Shikamaru Nara. Thanks to all of you for coming on such short notice." His sharp eyes scanned the crowd. "Obviously, with funeral preparations for Madara-san still on-going, this was hastily put together. We appreciate you all coming on such short notice. We wish this wasn't the case, but since things are as they are, this is the best we can do in this situation."

Hinata looked around and saw that there were a lot more people who'd shown up. She recognized some of the other photographers and felt a buzz of self-doubt flicker through her. But she squeezed her fists and felt again the calm that surrounded her whenever she started to doubt herself and her abilities.

If anything, the knowledge that she was going to compete against these skilled photographers fired her spirit.

"So I'll get straight to the point—"

There was a commotion when the door suddenly burst open and a couple walked in. The person in front bowed and waved elegantly, then smiled at everyone charmingly as she tucked long blond hair behind her ear, her lovely emerald eyes glinting with apology.

"I'm so sorry, everyone! I didn't mean to interrupt. Please continue," she said breathlessly, the melodious lilt to her voice making the other men in the room suddenly sit up straight to observe her as she hurriedly took the closest available seat.

The room was suddenly abuzz.

Ino Yamanaka, the uber-popular fashion model who had nothing to do with today's event, was here. Which meant that her companion, the other half of the couple—who was trying unsuccessfully to discreetly follow her in—was none other than the photographer who was always associated with her name.

Naruto Uzumaki.

Hinata glanced at him impassively, her nose wrinkling. Already, him walking in late to this event raised her professional hackles. She knew she herself was not the most punctual person in the world, but at least she knew how to keep time. Showing up early was something everyone had to do in this business—especially when it involved the imperial family. Granted, she'd only arrived five minutes earlier than them, but at least she'd made it to her seat before the doors closed.

She gazed at him breezing into the room haughtily. Face impassive, he offered a quick, shallow bow of apology to everyone for the interruption.

Her lips pressed together with irritation.

Not even a verbal acknowledgment for the disruption?

Wow.

Apparently, regular rules didn't apply to gods like him.

Normally, nobody interrupted an information session run by the imperial staff. To her, the fact that they were even allowed into the event this late, past the time it was supposed to begin, smacked of special treatment.

Her nose wrinkled with distaste. Must be so nice to be the son of the governor. Her gaze shifted to that girl named Ino. And a pampered model.

She thought Uzumaki would sit down, too, as his partner had just done, but he didn't. Instead, Hinata surveyed him coolly as he took slow, long-legged strides away from his girlfriend and moved towards the side closest to the wall. He ignored everyone else and folded his arms, stood against the wall, and kept his eyes averted to avoid making eye contact with anyone in the room except Shikamaru Nara upfront.

Hinata's gaze became even more dismissive. Hmph! What an ego. Obviously, he thought he was too good to sit amongst mere mortals.

She glanced at the woman, the model who had turned her head and was smiling apologetically at him. He shrugged, but there was a small smile on his face.

Hinata unscrewed her face when she realized she'd probably been cringing and internally gagging when she'd observed them being so lovey-dovey with each other.

She shook her head and forced herself to concentrate. No matter what, she mustn't let others distract her from this very important opportunity.

Unfortunately, though, her eyes kept straying to the figure standing stiffly by the wall.

The model winked at him, which made him press his lips together.

Seriously, though. This was a professional seminar, meant for serious photographers. Why would a person who works primarily in fashion even come to this? And who brings their girlfriend to an information session for a potential job?! Hinata, irked, thought. She observed him silently, noting how incredibly put-together he was despite his casual attire of dark pants and light blue button-down shirt.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, finally dismissing him from her mind. Hinata turned her attention back to Shikamaru Nara, who had nodded at them and was now continuing, addressing the reason why everyone had assembled at this hotel conference room this morning.

"Again, thank you all for coming." He glanced expectantly at somebody beside him, who proceeded to dim the lights in the room as the projector screen lowered from the ceiling. Shikamaru clicked a button and the first slide came on. Photos of festivals appeared before her on the screen. She recognized the Nebuta one held in summer in Aomori. The next slide featured images from the Tanabata Festival in Sendai, the subsequent one, the Snow Festival in Sapporo in the winter. As each slide came on, various pictures from festivals all over Japan flashed before the seated crowd.

"Maybe you can already sense it?"

His question was answered by silent nods.

"Good. As you can see, these photos indicate the theme of this year-long competition to determine the next imperial photographer. We want you to focus on Japanese festivals to show us a sample of what you can do—if you become the next imperial photographer."

There seemed to be a collective hush as the assignment was slowly revealed.

"The Crown Prince wants you, as photographers, to take this opportunity to impress him with the pictures you'll take at each event."

Despite her absorption and excitement for this event, Hinata found it hard to concentrate on what Shikamaru Nara was saying because her eyes would sometimes stray over to Naruto Uzumaki. She told herself he was hard to miss because he was standing so tall.

Some instinct, though, told her that this particular photographer was going to be her main competition.

She knew about him, of course, and had even seen some of his non-fashion photographs. In their line of work, everybody had heard of everyone.

And she would even painfully admit to herself that she liked his aesthetics. His photographs had always been praiseworthy, his use of background, the lighting, the spareness of props, the way he captured people in intimate poses and showing them in a different light. It reminded her of the way the legendary Annie Liebowitz captured her subjects in her photos. He was very detail-oriented and careful with the posing, if he asked them to pose at all.

Oh, but the next slide blocked out all thoughts of Naruto Uzumaki because Shikamaru Nara was now in earnest explaining what they were hoping to accomplish with the kinds of photos they were expecting from everyone. He was going over the rules and how each round was going to be determined.

"The Crown Prince wants to emphasize the democratic process of this contest. This competition is open to everyone, from amateurs to professionals, students to retirees, housewives to breadwinners. And with that in mind, too, you will be showing your skills to the entire Japanese public. Since everyone will be vying for just one spot, the fight will be fierce."

By some miracle, Naruto kept the blush off his cheeks even as he quietly died with embarrassment while he stood off to the side. He desperately wanted to hide, but he could feel everyone's attention on him despite the presentation being given by Shikamaru Nara. Every furtive glance, every surreptitious peek at him indicated that the people in the audience knew who he was. He was doing his best to blend in with the wall, but he knew it was impossible. He'd known it as soon as they'd rudely interrupted the imperial staff when they'd walked into the room despite it already starting.

He hadn't meant to be late, but Ino had insisted on joining him today and it had taken her forever to get ready. By the time they'd gotten their taxi, Naruto knew that they were going to be late and they wouldn't be able to slip in quietly as he'd hoped.

Seeing the doors to the room where the information session was being held already closed made him stop in his tracks and turn around, ready to give up. Obviously, this was a clear sign that this wasn't meant for him. This was as far as he could go.

He was about to head back home, but Ino had known he was giving up and had prevented it. "No! You're so close, you can't leave now!" she'd hissed.

Then she'd flashed a sweet smile at the sentinels at the door, which charmed them enough so that they opened them for her even though they weren't supposed to. She then grabbed Naruto's arm and forcefully dragged him inside, causing the dreaded dramatic entrances that never failed to make him shudder—especially when he was the one making them.

Acute embarrassment prevented him from voicing the apology that had been waiting to spill from his mouth for disrupting what the man in front of the room was saying. The startled, staring eyes of everyone froze him, making him clam up in panic. If he opened his mouth now, he knew he would stutter and make this whole thing even more painful for everyone. It was best to stay quiet and not say anything at all.

Once inside the room, even as he felt all eyes focused on them, he just decided to go with the flow. It was too late to hide now. Since Ino had unhelpfully grabbed the closest seat for herself, there was no way he could unobtrusively fade into the background. And the one available seat left was all the way across the room. He would rather die than cross the room and draw everyone's attention just so he could go sit over there. Instead, he chose the lesser of the two evils and stood where he was.

Luckily, because Ino was who she was, everyone was more focused on seeing her there at the event instead of seeing Naruto Uzumaki in the room.

Shikamaru Nara nodded at them both and proceeded to explain the rules of the competition.

"To keep everything fair, everyone has the same assignment. It's simple, really: festivals, five of the biggest in Japan. Focus on photographing whatever aspect you want. Since the coronation of the new emperor is meant to be a celebration of life and continuity, we want you to capture the spirit of the tradition and gaiety that usually happens at festivals."

"Ooooh, so basically the crown prince wants party shots?" a female voice suddenly quipped. "He's so paripi!"

Naruto gasped with unexpected laughter. He turned his head to try to catch who'd said the joke, but in the darkness, he only saw grins being hidden and shaking heads.

He peered more closely into the back, where everyone had been gazing, but he had to turn respectfully back to Shikamaru's face when he spoke again.

Shikamaru was still smiling as he acknowledged the joke. "You're right, of course, because in essence, yes, the crown prince likes to party," he said in response to the interruption. "You could call him paripi."

Everyone laughed—this time undisguised.

"To those of you seriously thinking about entering the contest, I recommend recalling the feeling of when you were all budding photographers, not the jaded old slags you are now."

There were a few chuckles.

"Keep in mind that you'll be judged on the quality of your photos. Take your time and really show us your best work. You have a few months to impress us with your portfolio. What would you want the people of Japan to see when they look at your photos? If you got the chance, how would you present the new emperor to the people?"

Naruto saw most of the people nod in agreement and understanding.

"Judging will be voted on by the public, both online and in print through newspapers. Each round, after the photos are sent in to us, the pictures will be displayed to the public. The photographers with the lowest votes, unfortunately, will get eliminated fr—"

"Reality competition show format?" interrupted the same smart-ass from before. "What is this, The Voice?!"

More laughter erupted and again, Naruto peered into the back, but still the identity of the speaker eluded him.

Shikamaru laughed. "Sure. But in you guys' case, let's call it The Lens."

There was appreciative laughter and even clapping at Shikamaru's witty comeback. When the crowd settled down, he continued, "After you've taken your photos, pick five of the ones you think are the best and send it to us. This will be all done anonymously, each of you will be assigned a number, determined by the order of when you get your application done. A month before the final decision, the top twenty, those who make it to the final cut, will have their portfolio displayed at Tokyo Big Sight, where people can choose to come to view your work in person."

There was buzzing from the crowd. The exhibition center was the largest convention center in Japan, used to hold international events attended by hundreds of thousands of people. It was a great opportunity for the top contenders to display their work.

"And of course, throughout it all, the crown prince himself will anonymously participate in the voting—but that won't necessarily mean that his choice will automatically be the winner." Shikamaru pierced his audience with a meaningful look. "Again, the people's choice will determine the next imperial photographer."

Naruto felt the enormity of that statement, the fleeting nervousness he felt probably resembled what his mother always experienced during elections.

"Let us know your decision by the end of the week if you want to join. There are lots of forms to be filled and contest rules to read through. If at any point you decide you no longer want to continue, you can always drop out at any time."

Shikamaru turned off the projector and the lights came on again.

"That's it. That's your assignment."

As if it were simple.

But Naruto knew it wasn't. With such an open task, the freedom to go in so many directions came with the same risk: there were equally so many ways to mess up in this competition.

"Any questions?"

From his peripheral vision, a woman in the back immediately raised her hand. "Nara-san? Are we getting reimbursed—even a teensy little bit—for expenses we spend on the competition?"

Naruto didn't look at her, but he felt the rustle of disapproval from everyone. He also recognized the voice as the same person who kept interrupting Nara with the wisecracks during his presentation.

A few people groaned under their breaths. He thought he heard somebody say, "Such a crass question to ask a member of the imperial staff!"

Then another person muttered, "What idiot brings up the topic of money to something like this?!"

Shikamaru squinted and peered into the back of the room, then his brow cleared when he saw who had asked the question. His smile was polite. "Unfortunately, Hyuuga-san, no. You will be responsible for all your expenses."

The woman chuckled. "Thank you for answering that and being upfront, Nara-san."

Hyuuga?

Naruto stiffened, recognizing the name.

A memory flickered vaguely in his mind.

Something about lions, and Africa, and a horrible accident.

Curiosity made him whip his head to look at the woman.

She was still smiling at Shikamaru but she must have felt everyone's disapproval because she snorted and aimed her next statement at the occupants of the room. "Oh, come on, spare me your contempt! You all were thinking the same thing. At least I had the balls to ask."

She swept everyone a disdainful glance one more time and then turned back to Shikamaru with a grin. "I figured it didn't hurt to ask you about the expenses."

"Yes, of course."

Naruto kept his eyes on her even as other photographers asked questions. He should really pay attention to what was being said, but he just couldn't focus. Nobody else was compelling enough to grab his interest like her.

Because his memory was suddenly clear.

That was her.

Hinata Hyuuga. The wildlife photographer.

Three years ago, Hinata Hyuuga had been mauled by a lion on one of her wildlife shoots but had miraculously survived it.

It had been in the news while he'd been on a business trip in Chicago, shooting a cover for Harper's Bazaar. When he'd gone back to his hotel and heard the reporter mention a Japanese person encountering an animal attack in Tanzania, he'd straightened up and stared as the screen rolled out images of a tranquilized lion and a hunter holding a huge gun. Eyewitnesses from the Masai Mara tribe had described the lion's jaws clamped around the victim's neck and the number of people it had taken to save her life.

His heart started pounding just thinking about it—surviving such a brutal animal attack.

Holy shit.

The resilience to not only live through that but to come back. Respect for Hinata Hyuuga glimmered in his eyes.

Naruto was suddenly glad that he was standing because from his height, he could clearly see her.

She was sitting in the last row at the back, dressed in black jeans and a long-sleeved turtle neck, both hugging her body and leaving no room for imagination. Her long dark hair was bound in a tight braid that hung over her front.

The two seated men who flanked her were presumably photographers, too. Most of the people in the room were. But compared to her, they were huge. She sat with one leg crossed over, perfectly settled in her seat looking like a queen—a tiny one. And yet she managed to make it seem as if she was looking down on everybody.

Hinata Hyuuga, however, ignored everyone and everything in the room and seemed to think that this assignment was meant specifically for only her—and not a competition for everyone. Her eyes were blazing with enthusiasm and fervor as she peppered the imperial staff with her questions.

He wanted to continue gazing at her, but that would look too weird so he reluctantly turned his attention back to the front of the room.

But Hinata Hyuuga was still speaking. "And we'll know who the winner is when?"

"Right after the New Year Holidays."

"After Shogatsu, huh?" she murmured. "That's cutting it kind of close? Coronation is in February 23."

"It is, but you're all pros. We believe in the miracles that you guys can pull off." When nobody had any more questions, Shikamaru smiled before he bowed at everyone. "Good luck to all of you."

Then he was off, leaving the room to the excited buzz of the photographers.

Fuck.

The shaft of pain came as a surprise.

She'd forgotten she wasn't supposed to do that.

Dimly, she heard everyone file out of the room, but Hinata, her head bowed, was suddenly finding it hard to breathe as she stared unseeingly at the files in front of her. When she'd suddenly raised her hand earlier, it had triggered the pain in her neck and shoulder from her previous injuries. She'd listened to Shikamaru explain the rules, the perimeters of the competition and she'd been so excited, she'd forgotten to use her other arm instead to ask her questions.

And now she was paying for it, taking shallow breaths while she rolled her left shoulder gently.

"Are you alright?"

A male voice, very concerned.

Hinata swallowed painfully and looked up. It was him. Naruto Uzumaki.

He'd stayed behind and she hadn't heard him. She'd thought she was the only one left in the room when everyone had left minutes earlier.

She blinked and tried to focus. She saw blond hair cut short then bright blue eyes looking back at her.

She nodded stiffly. "I'm okay."

"You look like you're in pain."

She smiled despite the truth of his words. "Oh, don't worry. This is how I normally look. I call it my 'constant constipation' face."

He looked flustered and seemed not to know how to respond to that joke. He cleared his throat. "Uh, okay. Can I do something for you?"

"I'm fine. Your girl's probably looking for you? Shouldn't you leave?"

Incredibly, though, he blushed—a deep, dark shade that was beautiful in its rosiness. "Ino? Oh, she's—"

Hinata glanced up when his girlfriend, with perfect timing, walked back into the room.

"Naruto, are you ready to go? The taxi's waiting outsi—Oh!" she gasped when she saw Naruto bent low to peer at Hinata. Her beautiful face instantly creased into concern. "Are you okay, ma'am?"

"Ma'am?!"

The word was torn out of her in shock before she could control herself. Hinata had to laugh as she breathed out a rueful sound. "Yes, I'm better now, so thanks. Don't worry about me." She waved them away, grateful that she was finally telling the truth. The pain in her shoulder and her arm had faded to a bearable level. "Don't concern yourself with an old lady like me. You shouldn't keep the taxi driver waiting."

The girl called Ino tilted her head, her face still hesitant, but she tugged at Naruto's arm and said, "She said she's fine. I guess we should probably go?"

He nodded at her but he shot one more glance at Hinata. "Are you sure you don't need anything?"

Hinata faked a grin to reassure him and so that they could leave her in peace. She'd prefer to do her suffering alone with nobody watching. "Yeah, no worries! This is usual for me."

After one more slight glance at her face, he bowed and then looked at Ino. "Let's go then."

They turned around and left.

When they were gone, Hinata groaned softly and leaned forward to lay her forehead on the table. But she eventually shook her arm to get rid of the residual pain, the numbness that sometimes lingered. She stayed that way for a few minutes until she felt she was okay. She finally stood up and gathered her things, still thinking of the couple and reversing her earlier opinion of them.

They made a glamorous couple, both of them with bright, beautiful coloring.

They were nice, too, she thought, remembering the genuine concern on both of their faces.

She smiled though.

Ma'am.

She looked down at her black turtleneck and her grin spread. Maybe she should rethink the color of her clothes or something because apparently, they made her seem older than her real age. She wasn't that old. She guessed they were all around the same age. She was twenty-eight and both seemed to be in their late twenties, too? Or if not, then the two might be in their early thirties.

But Hinata closed her eyes and tried to conjure that shade of blue she'd seen a few minutes ago. It reminded her of something.

Then she realized what it was.

Naruto Uzumaki's eyes were warmer and even more beautiful than the ocean.