Edo, 1615 A.D.
In the age of the Edo Dynasty in Japan, a princess named Sakuyahime graced the world with hair as exquisite as cherry blossoms in spring. Her unparalleled beauty captured the hearts of men far and wide, sparking fierce competition for her affections. Yet, Sakuyahime, ahead of her time, harbored a deep desire for a life beyond the confines of a conventional marriage. She yearned for independence, rejecting the submissive role expected of a wife.
On the day of her arranged marriage to the most handsome prince in the Japanese peninsula, Prince Ninigi No Mikoto, fifteen-year-old Sakuyahime hid in her wardrobe to escape the dreadful union. She vowed not to marry any man, even if he were the most handsome man on the entire planet.
As Sakuyahime hid in the wardrobe, the approaching footsteps of her mother and servants made her heart race. She pleaded with the gods to save her from her mother's wrath, angered by her daughter's attempt to escape the preordained marriage.
"Oh, God, please help me," Sakuyahime prayed silently as her mother's shadow approached the wardrobe.
"Sakuyahime, I know you're in there," her mother called out loudly while pushing the sliding door of the wardrobe. Unfortunately, her mother's strong intuition led her to discover Sakuyahime's hiding place once again.
Sakuyahime should have disguised herself and fled the palace at midnight to avoid her mother's discovery and the forced marriage at such a tender age. However, this plan was not easy, given the tight security in the palace, making it difficult for her to elude the guards who were likely instructed by her mother to prevent her escape.
"The wedding has been all arranged," her mother scolded, pulling her stubborn daughter out of the cramped wardrobe.
"Please, gods. Please get me out of this," Sakuyahime cried desperately in her heart.
"You turned down the jeweler," her frustrated mother continued. "You turned down the grain merchant. You turned down Emperor Nakamikado's food taster," she ranted, expressing her anger.
Rolling her eyes, Sakuyahime sighed.
"There's only one man left who'll have you: You'll marry Prince Ninigi no Mikoto," her mother asserted, narrowing her eyes at her daughter. "If not, his troops will annihilate our entire family because he is known to always get what he wants!"
"No, Mother. No!" Sakuyahime shouted, freeing herself from her mother's grasp. "I don't want to marry a man I don't love!"
"But he's a prince and the heir to the Uchiha clan's throne," her mother retorted angrily. "You can't just cancel his proposal!"
Sakuyahime groaned in frustration. "Forget it!" she snapped while folding her arms.
"You forget it!" Her mother scowled in anger.
"Mother, I don't want to settle down!" Sakuyahime retorted in frustration. "I want to do things and invent things!"
"You can't even read!" her mother countered loudly.
"Well, it's because society forbids me from learning to read and only allows me to sew!" Sakuyahime retorted.
"I want to try things that nobody's ever tried before," Sakuyahime asserted. "I want to fly."
"Sure," her mother responded with a mocking tone.
"And I want to smoke and tell your father to go to hell!" her mother retorted.
"My daughter, if I thought we women could in any way change anything, don't you think I'd encourage you?" her mother's tone softened as she held her daughter's hands, trying to make her see things from her perspective. However, she suddenly shook her head. "No. Don't. These are the times we live in!"
"Mother, there's got to be a better way!" Sakuyahime pleaded desperately. "Please, gods. Please help me find it," she cried, taking a deep breath.
"Sure, the river is overflowing," her mother scoffed, bewildered by her stubborn daughter's thoughts. "There is a wheat shortage. The emperor has hemorrhoids," she continued with a scornful tone.
"The gods have bigger things to worry about than you!" her mother exclaimed, stomping her foot.
"Whatever. I'm tired of arguing with you," Sakuyahime said resignedly.
…
In the dressing room, Princess Sakuyahime appeared busy as her female attendants worked on applying makeup. During the makeup session, the attendants couldn't help but gossip about the most handsome prince in the world, Ninigi no Mikoto, who was to be betrothed to Sakuyahime.
"Not only is he handsome, but his highness, your future husband, is also a sculptor," said one servant while applying a rosy hue to Sakuyahime's cheeks.
"True. It's said that his sculptures can resemble real humans very closely!" chimed in another servant, combing her hair.
"Unfortunately, from the rumors circulating, he's also a cold-blooded killer. I can't believe those merciless hands can carve a sculpture!" remarked another servant, carefully applying lipstick to Sakuyahime.
"Is that so?" Sakuyahime asked with a hint of skepticism, biting her lip.
She then slammed the fan she was holding onto the dressing table with force, startling her servants simultaneously. "I will make sure that this weirdo won't dare to lay his hands on my face, or I will send him the most powerful curse, making his face so hideous that he won't dare to show it in public!"
...
"Princess Sakuyahime has arrived!" shouted one guard standing near the door, holding his spear, as the girl, now perfectly adorned, entered the pavilion specially prepared for her and her prospective husband to have some privacy to get to know each other.
"Please leave," Sakuyahime commanded the female servants who were trailing behind her.
The girl was momentarily stunned as she observed the figure of a tall man standing with his back to her.
"Oh, so this is the sculptor," Sakuyahime thought in amazement because even from behind, the man's figure appeared exceptionally charming.
A moment later, Ninigi no Mikoto turned around, causing Sakuyahime's heart to beat wildly.
"W-what is this feeling?" she panicked, holding her left chest that felt uncomfortable. "Ugh, why do my cheeks feel like they're on fire? Is this because of the makeup my handmaidens applied?" she pondered while holding both of her cheeks.
"Sakuyahime, huh?" said the prince with a monotone voice and an indifferent expression.
"I just want to make sure you're not a freak who enjoys peeking at women's underwear," Sakuyahime retorted suddenly, surprising Ninigi with her audacity.
"Well, my arrival here is actually to ensure that you are as beautiful as people say," replied Ninigi coldly. "Sadly, the sculpture I carved is much more beautiful than your face. Quite disappointing."
"In that case, just marry your sculpture!" snapped Sakuyahime with irritation. "Why did you bother coming from afar just to propose to me!"
To Sakuyahime's surprise, Ninigi chuckled softly. It was the first time for him to find a woman so boldly taunting him like this.
"That's because my father arranged our marriage, and I cannot refuse if I want to ascend the throne," Ninigi responded nonchalantly. "By the way, I heard you are also skilled in sewing, is that true?"
"Yeah, that's right. Because I'm not allowed to do anything other than sewing, cooking, and giving birth to children," retorted Sakuyahime.
Ninigi chuckled again. He was amused to finally find someone who could make him laugh for the first time.
"But this is not the end of everything," said Sakuyahime, looking into Ninigi's eyes intensely. "I will make sure I won't end up just like this."
"Oh, really? Hm, such extraordinary confidence from someone who can't read at all," sneered Ninigi sarcastically. Unconsciously, his heart raced when their faces were so close.
"Whether one can read or not is not a measure of someone's intelligence, Your Highness," Sakuyahime asserted with fiery eyes. "If you are truly a talented sculptor as people say, I want to see you sculpt a statue that looks like me."
"So, is this some kind of marriage requirement?" Ninigi asked with a teasing grin.
"You could say that," replied Sakuyahime nonchalantly.
"Very well, my future wife. I will create a statue so similar to you that people won't be able to distinguish between the real you and the statue," Ninigi said arrogantly.
"Alright, we'll see," Sakuyahime said with a disdainful smile.
Suddenly, to Sakuyahime's surprise, Ninigi embraced her slender waist, bringing them even closer. Sakuyahime felt as if her heart would leap out of her chest.
"I will make sure you fall in love with me forever, Sakuyahime," Ninigi whispered right into Sakuyahime's ear, causing both of her cheeks to turn even redder, resembling boiled crabs.
…
Much like Emperor Shah Jahan, who constructed the Taj Mahal in homage to his beloved wife, Queen Mumtaz Mahal, Prince Ninigi gifted a sculpture of his own creation that strikingly resembled Sakuyahime on their wedding day. Despite the arranged nature of their marriage, Sakuyahime harbored no regrets, having found genuine love in Ninigi, someone who comprehended her dreams and even taught her to read. Unfortunately, this enchanting love story took a dark turn, typical of the Uchiha clan's penchant for betrayal to secure power.
Ninigi's opulence and the freedom he bestowed upon Sakuyahime stirred discontent among those holding conservative beliefs that opposed women reading or managing significant freedom and wealth independently. Exploiting this dissatisfaction was Madara Uchiha, an elder of the Uchiha clan, who harbored ambitions to seize the throne from Ninigi, even before his birth. Madara orchestrated false rumors, leading Ninigi to resent and exile his own brother. These unfounded allegations claimed Ninigi's brother sought to assassinate him to usurp the crown, all masterminded by Madara himself.
Madara skillfully manipulated public opinion with rumors of Ninigi and Sakuyahime's perceived extravagance, funded by the people's taxes. This triggered a violent coup resulting in the deaths of numerous innocent citizens and Ninigi's loyal troops. In the end, Madara's forces besieged the palace, capturing Ninigi, Sakuyahime, and their loyal followers, intending to execute the young couple.
"Any last words, young man, before this sword claims your worthless head?" Madara taunted Ninigi before his vast coup forces in the palace courtyard.
Battered and bruised, Ninigi weakly pleaded, "Release my wife."
"Huh," Madara scoffed, "I nearly mistook her statue for your wife. Thankfully, I found where she's hiding."
Pointing to a soldier in black, Madara's forces forcefully dragged out Sakuyahime, her hands bound, and mouth gagged. They callously tossed her bloodied and battered body before Ninigi.
"My wife," Ninigi gasped in disbelief at the sight of his injured spouse.
"Anata," Sakuyahime whispered, helpless.
"Do you think your sculpted statue can deceive me, you inexperienced brat?" sneered Madara, seizing Sakuyahime's neck and pulling her closer. "Now, any parting words for your irritating wife, my grandson?"
Seething with anger, Ninigi growled, "Release her, you bastard!"
"What can you do now?" Madara laughed triumphantly. "All your troops and followers are dead. You have no one left to defy my commands!"
"Madara Uchiha," Ninigi snarled through bloodied lips, "If not in this life, I will kill you in the next!"
"Huh, if only that were true and not just a myth," retorted Madara, tightening his grip on Sakuyahime's throat. "If there's nothing else you wish to say for this little girl, I'll behead her first before I get to you!"
"No! Sakuya! Sakuya!" Ninigi yelled desperately, his bound hands rendering him powerless to save his wife.
Sakuyahime could only weep, accepting her fate as Madara dragged her to the execution site. Madara removed the gag from her mouth, letting her sobs be heard by everyone.
With a heavy heart, Ninigi could only gaze at his ill-fated wife with tear-filled eyes.
"This is the end of our revolution!" Madara proclaimed, raising his sword, followed by his loyal forces. "We will eradicate symbols of disorder and submission, ushering in an era free from curses!"
"Long live Madara Uchiha!" shouted the coup forces, raising their swords in unison.
"Alright, sweet girl, any last words for your pathetic husband?" sneered Madara.
Sakuyahime looked dazedly toward her husband, who continued to scream her name desperately.
She shed tears as she said, "I swear, in the next life, I will find you again. Thank you for everything."
"Sakuyahime!" Ninigi shouted hoarsely as Madara's sword swung down, severing the head of his beloved wife.
…
Tokyo, 2017
I jolted awake from my serene slumber, thanks to that darn dream haunting my subconscious lately, for reasons unknown. Meanwhile, my alarm clock decided to unleash an ungodly racket. Fortunately, I resisted the urge to launch it against the nearest wall, opting for keeping it intact.
Dragging myself out of bed, clad in nothing but boxer shorts, I embarked on a leisurely stroll toward the lone bathroom in this cramped ground-floor apartment.
As I descended the stairs, sporting a casually draped towel over my shoulder, I was met with the sight of Naruto—my college-era apartment mate—already donned in a spiffy suit, merrily whistling while taming his golden locks before a massive mirror in the living room.
"Oi, dobe!" Naruto hollered, adjusting his suit, "How's my appearance now, huh? I'm acing that interview today!" he declared with unwavering confidence.
I rolled my eyes, "Good luck, idiot. Hope you're not failed again."
"Don't underestimate me, Sasuke! This time, I'll nail the job, and I won't owe you money anymore!" Naruto retorted, brandishing his comb my way, "And I'll propose to Hinata soon!"
"I'm in awe of your boundless self-confidence, idiot," I replied nonchalantly, "Anyway, I'm off for a shower!"
"Heh, from any angle, I'm leaps and bounds ahead of you!" Naruto argued, persisting, while resuming his hair-combing, "I'm way more handsome and intelligent. No longer single! Whereas you, huh, no girl wants you because you're so rude!"
"Bla, bla, suit yourself," I lazily retorted, strolling into the bathroom.
"Remember, moron! Lay a finger on my toothbrush, and you're evicted!" Naruto grumbled, offering a warning.
"Just so you know, I claimed this apartment before you! Don't act like you own the place!" I shot back with irritation, "And I'd never touch your toothbrush or anything of yours. Just the thought grosses me out!"
"Sasuke! You!" Naruto grumbled, nearly launching his comb my way, "You're still the same old pain!"
I chuckled disdainfully, closing the bathroom door.
…
And here is where I've been working for the past year, a mannequin manufacturing factory in Shibuya. Not a bad job for a sculpture art graduate like me.
"What would you say if I told you, you get more beautiful every day?" I whispered, mesmerized by the beauty of the mannequin I created. I ran my fingers over every perfect contour of her face, stopping at the tiny curve of her lips.
Whether I was completely insane or something, I leaned my ear closer to her lips, as if listening to a whispered secret, even though nothing of the sort was happening. "What was that? Arms and legs?" I exclaimed, pretending to be surprised, "God, how thoughtless. I'm sorry."
Honestly, if this mannequin were truly alive and whispering in my ear, I might have dropped dead from a heart attack on the spot.
I rushed to the section with hanging arms and legs, grabbing a pair of limbs for the female mannequin. Carefully, I attached the legs and arms to her body.
Slowly, I combed the pink hair of the lifeless object before me, ensuring that the strands didn't cover her perfectly carved face.
Look at this masterpiece I've created. Uchiha Sasuke, you are indeed a genius.
While I was smiling to myself, admiring my creation, suddenly, my grumpy and chubby boss appeared in front of me.
"Boss! Hi!" I stammered, still in shock.
"Great. I was just coming to see you," my boss snapped with narrowed eyes.
"You know, you could get the dummy of the week award, Uchiha!" he continued loudly, hands on his hips.
"Yeah, she turned out pretty real," I said, praising my own creation, slightly puffing my chest.
"I wasn't talking about her!" my boss snapped angrily, glancing briefly at my mannequin.
I tried hard to swallow my saliva, "What do you think? It only took me six days," I said, trying to impress my boss with a grin, "I could turn out three or four a month," I continued, attempting to convince my boss.
"You're supposed to knock off three or four of these a day, Uchiha!" my boss berated. I tried to avoid his spittle raining down on me. "Now, get back to work!" he scolded again in annoyance.
"What about quality, boss?" I pleaded desperately while trailing my angry boss like a puppy. Oh, I rarely couldn't live without this job, or that dumbass Naruto would not lend me a single penny and make me homeless by kicking me out.
"Style and grace. These things take time," I continued, still begging for my boss's mercy.
"That's it! You're fired!" snapped my boss, pointing angrily at me.
I sighed loudly, "Fired? Okay, but can I finish her? I'm a sculptor. I'm trying to be a sculptor, and she's my work of-"
"Beat it!" my boss interrupted me before I could finish my words.
"Now!" the bald, chubby man shouted loudly right in my face. I quickly wiped his spittle off my hand.
Oh, my creation, it seems we have to part ways in a heart-breaking manner like this. Or maybe I'm the one truly heartbroken in this moment.
...
After all these futile attempts to convince my family in Kobe that I'm a sculpting genius on par with Michelangelo, I found myself in the pitiful position of a balloon vendor at the birthday bash of a chubby, spoiled kid who seems to take immense pleasure in mocking my existence.
"There you go. Have fun," I declared, plastering a smile on my face as if I were facing an imminent firing squad, while distributing balloons to the giggling kids around me. "You guys having a good time?" I inquired with feigned amiability, fearing the wrath of the parents in the park if I dared exhibit the typical Uchiha cold demeanor.
"Having fun at the party?" I questioned a brace-faced boy. The lad innocently nodded, and I put on a fake grin, "That's my boy. Here you go," I continued, handing him a yellow balloon.
"Just one second," I sighed, attempting to summon as much patience as I could muster when a little girl tugged at the hem of my shirt, gesturing towards a rabbit-shaped balloon.
"Here you go. Bye-bye," I announced with a forced smile, presenting her the balloon. Little did I anticipate that being a balloon vendor could be this exhausting. I'd willingly opt for homelessness if this is the alternative.
"Want a giraffe for the birthday boy?" I proposed, still wearing the same agonizing smile, as the chubby, spoiled kid stood before me, "A monkey? A pony? A tiger?" I suggested, pointing to various balloons with different shapes.
Regrettably, the chubby boy shook his head with a scowl.
"How about a hint?" I suggested, desperately trying to contain my already thin patience.
"I want the big one, stupid," grumbled the spoiled boy, pouting.
"That's the official Flights of Fancy balloon," I informed, pointing dramatically to the colossal balloon tethered to the balloon cart. "How about a poodle?" I offered with the most exaggerated smile.
"Listen, biscuit-brain, my old man is paying for this party!" grumbled the spoiled boy. Oh no, I definitely wouldn't let myself be beaten up by his knucklehead father.
"One giant balloon, coming up," I declared half-panicked, untying the balloon from my cart.
"There you go. Have fun," I continued, handing the balloon to the spoiled kid. Then, I turned to another boy waiting in line, "Now, what do you want?"
Suddenly, I was startled by the chubby kid's body being lifted into the air. "Daddy!" he yelled in panic.
I reflexively grabbed both of his legs to prevent him from floating further.
"Biscuit-brain, what the hell do you think you're doing?" grumbled his father, who ran towards me. He then roughly grabbed my shirt collar, "Take your hands off my kid!"
I immediately complied with the terrifying tattooed man's instructions, and he frantically tried to keep his chubby kid from floating further.
Unfortunately, my boss abruptly materialized by my side and shouted in frustration, "My balloon!"
He then pointed his finger at me angrily, "You're fired."
…
The next gig was a far cry from the thrilling life of a balloon vendor. Little did I foresee that, even after enduring the hardships of college, my illustrious career would lead me to become a gardener in the sprawling estate of a wealthy conglomerate family.
"Trimming the hedges long, Uchiha?" grunted the homeowner, displaying all the warmth of an iceberg as I feverishly shaped the bushes into hedgehog masterpieces.
"Actually, no," I fibbed, wrestling with each stubborn branch and leaf, wielding my trusty but rusty hedge clippers.
"I'm actually a sculptor," I declared, attempting to enlighten the arrogant billionaire about my true artistic prowess, "But there's not too much work for us these days."
"But who says hedges can't be masterpieces?" mused the homeowner, casually flicking his cigarette butt before squashing it under his foot, as though mocking my leafy endeavors.
"You're fired!" he suddenly bellowed, causing my heart to perform an impromptu drum solo. "Grab your paycheck and scram!"
The subsequent job didn't bring much improvement.
I found myself in a pizza joint teeming with hungry customers. Despite the hustle and bustle, I couldn't help but meticulously arrange each slice of tomato, cucumber, and onion on the pizza emerging hot from the oven. This meticulousness made my pace noticeably more leisurely compared to the other pizza artisans.
"What do you think?" Out of nowhere, my Italian boss with a luxuriant mustache materialized next to me, startling me mid-tomato-placement.
"What do I think?" I stammered, my eloquence temporarily abandoning ship.
Before the rotund Italian maestro could land a slap on my face, I bolted out of the kitchen, unceremoniously tossing my apron like a salad, "I'm fired! Grab my paycheck and beat it!"
…
With a face that could rival a disappointed pufferfish, I revved up my sports motorcycle on the bustling streets that looked as congested as my job choices. Out of nowhere, a black BMW sidled up, and I was practically resurrected from the half-dead state by the sight of Naruto's face protruding from the open window. Beside him sat Hinata, his girlfriend, who appeared as if she was about to witness a bizarre spectacle.
"Hey, moron!" Naruto hollered at jet engine volume, "Where are you headed? Come join us for dinner with the others! Forgot it's our high school reunion?"
"Sorry," I deadpanned, not bothering to reduce the speed of my motorcycle, "I'm really busy today."
"Oh, pulling the night shift at the pizza joint again?" Naruto guessed, chuckling as if he just cracked the joke of the century, "Or delivering FedEx packages?"
"No, of course not. This job is way more challenging than all of that," I lied with a grumble. There was no way I'd admit to that goofball that I was currently enjoying the luxurious life of unemployment. "By the way, you're a driver now?" I shot back.
"Hey, dobe! Watch your mouth!" Naruto snapped, "I'm a junior manager now, can you believe it? And this car is provided by the office as a perk," he puffed his chest with a pride that rivaled a peacock and flashed a mocking grin my way. Then, he turned to his girlfriend with a soft smile, "Right, Hinata, dear?"
Hinata nodded hesitantly.
"Come on, dobe, the reunion won't be any fun without you!" Naruto urged, eyebrows playing a rapid-fire game of peekaboo.
I sighed deeply and reluctantly agreed, "Fine! Just promise to keep your mouth shut during dinner!"
"Yeah, that's my boy! Come on, speed it up!" Naruto exclaimed, closing the car window, and purposely revving up his flashy new car, leaving me trailing behind in a cloud of existential confusion.
Junior manager? How on earth did that airhead land a job with such a prestigious title? Even the fact that he managed to get a job shocked me. I mean, the lazy guy who spent his days napping on the couch while watching baseball games? And now, this slacker suddenly turns out to be more successful than me? What kind of luck is favoring him? And why do I seem to be the sacrificial lamb in exchange for his good fortune?
That night felt like a curse, a sitcom scripted by the universe to mock me. I could have declined Naruto's invitation and gone somewhere alone, but no, I willingly dove headfirst into the abyss of a high school reunion with people hell-bent on judging my life choices.
"Hey, Uchiha, still enjoying the single life?" Sai teased, provoking me to attack my steak like a furious caveman.
"I don't get why some people choose to be single for their whole life," chimed in Shikamaru, with his new girlfriend, Temari, by his side.
"Not only single, he's also a virgin!" interjected Naruto, who seemed to enjoy embarrassing me in public since elementary school.
Laughter erupted.
"I can't believe it, the Uchiha Sasuke who used to be the heartthrob, ending up as a single and a virgin," teased Ino, who used to chase after me since elementary school.
I couldn't fathom why these people were so obsessed with discussing other people's love lives and sex lives.
If only they knew that I was now unemployed, the mockery would never cease.
I sipped on the whiskey in my hand with a face resembling a deflated balloon. Yet, before the trials I was enduring could take a break, a woman with fiery red hair, glasses, and heavy makeup suddenly embraced me from behind, setting the stage for the next act of this tragicomedy.
In the dimly lit atmosphere of the high school reunion, Karin's sultry whisper pierced through my thoughts, causing me to nearly spit out the whiskey I had just sipped.
"Hey, handsome," she murmured into my ear.
"Wow, just go for it, Uchiha!" mocked Shikamaru, triggering laughter from the table.
Definitely not. Not this chick who relished tormenting me every second.
I exerted myself to create distance, pushing away from her invasive presence. "What are you doing here, Karin?"
"Well, I suppose this is a high school reunion, right?" she said with a teasing smile.
Suigetsu had accompanied this snake-like woman. He'd been infatuated with Karin since high school. If only this vexing woman would cease bothering me and recognize that there was a guy genuinely interested in her banter now.
"How is it going, Sasuke? Still making mannequins?" Karin taunted with a mocking laugh.
"Definitely not. Not this time," I replied awkwardly. Foolishly, I had chosen honesty about my situation.
"Why the sudden career change, Uchiha? Are you not interested in ogling lifeless statues anymore?" Karin continued to taunt, followed by thunderous laughter.
Maybe this is who I am. A pathetic loser. That is my way of life. It's just—I didn't realize it in high school because of my good grades and some annoying chicks busy praising my face.
Now, in reality, chicks don't care about face at all. What they care about is your status and the money in your pocket.
It doesn't mean I didn't have any money at all. It's just not that much to flaunt to everyone.
And besides, I'm not interested in finding any chicks since childhood; I just like to be alone and in tranquillity from this insanity.
"No. I got fired," I stated firmly while sipping my whiskey.
"Oh, no wonder you jump from job to job, Sasuke," teased Naruto with his obnoxious grin.
"Hm, in that case, may I, as your caring friend, offer you a job that I think is very suitable for an artistic person like you?" Karin said with a sensuous whisper that made my stomach churn. She gently touched my tense shoulder, and I felt entwined by a cobra.
"What kind of job is that?" I asked gruffly.
"Oh, you'll love it, Sasuke! A window dresser for Illustra Department store! Yeah, that is where I work. They need someone young and creative to design their windows," Karin said with a teasing grin.
No. Please. Definitely not Illustra! I bit my lip. There was no way I would share an office with my own brother, Uchiha Itachi. He had been the general manager at Illustra for the past five years, and I couldn't possibly showcase how much of a loser I was in front of my exceptional brother.
"Sorry, but I'm not interested in becoming a window dresser," I bluntly refused. "I'm a sculptor, not a department store decorator with feminine hands."
"Really? You'll regret it if you refuse, handsome," teased Karin, touching my chin and causing me to reflexively move my face away.
"Yeah, I agree with Karin. I think it's a great opportunity for you, Sasuke," chimed in Naruto with enthusiasm.
I sighed deeply.
Suddenly, my mind wandered back to the past, specifically when I was seven years old.
At that time, I was in my father's room and was scolded mercilessly for getting a B in science.
"This is what happens when you play with dolls!" my father bellowed with fire in his eyes while tearing apart my report card.
"They're not dolls, Dad! They're sculptures!" I protested in frustration.
"Dolls, sculptures, it's all the same!" my father snapped. "You're a boy; you should be busy playing with a ball, not shaping wooden dolls!"
I couldn't hold back my tears. Not only did my father mock my intellect, but he also questioned my masculinity, which was incredibly cruel.
"Promise me you'll get an A in all subjects like your brother and practice football like your brother in the future!" my father shouted.
Yeah, my perfect and extraordinary brother. He was also masculine and brilliant, unlike me, who was soft and weak like girls.
"Dad! Please!" I shouted desperately in the midst of my sobs as he tossed the small wooden doll I had just made into the fireplace.
"No more wooden dolls! You're not Geppetto, the creator of Pinocchio! You should be a CEO or a lawyer in the future! Remember that, Sasuke!" my father yelled before leaving his room, leaving me alone in despair.
I cried uncontrollably. Suddenly, my perfect brother, who was always praised by my father, entered the room, and approached me.
"Sasuke," he said with a tone of concern. Well, it seemed like he was only showing fake sympathy because I was sure he must have laughed behind the door while secretly listening to how my father insulted me.
He immediately hugged me, and I quickly pushed him away.
"I'm pathetic, unlike you, Brother!" I burst out in frustration.
"No, Sasuke! You're amazing. Look at this!" My brother suddenly revealed a wooden doll he had hidden behind his back. "With a masterpiece like this, you'll become someone great in the future!"
"No! Don't show that ugly doll in front of me!" I snapped, turning my face away. "I'm a man. Men don't make dolls!"
"Oh, my brother. This is your own creation. Boys or girls, I believe everyone is free to express their art in any form," Itachi said with a smile.
I pursed my lips. His words meant nothing to me.
"Listen, Sasuke. Regardless of who you are, I wholeheartedly support whatever you do. Mom feels the same way. Perhaps Dad will recognize your brilliance one day. So, don't give up, okay?" He uttered these words, swiftly wiping away the tears streaming down my cheeks.
I couldn't fathom my brother. Was he genuinely sympathetic toward me at that moment, or was he merely mocking me?
However, he hugged me tightly again. "I love you, my brother."
It seemed like I had been too harsh in judging my brother. Blame my insecurities that always envied all his achievements.
Still, after all these years, I didn't dare to meet him face-to-face, especially when I hadn't achieved anything to boast about in front of him.
"How about it, Sasuke? Come on!" Karin insisted, shaking my shoulders. "Oh, if you ever change your mind," she paused, taking out a card from her purse, "You can contact me using the number on this business card. Well, sorry, everyone, I can't join this gathering any longer due to an impromptu meeting with my boss. See you again, Sasuke!"
Karin finally left with Suigetsu.
"Sasuke, are you sure you don't want to work at Illustra?" Naruto teased again, nudging my arm. "It's much better than working part-time as a package delivery person."
I sipped my whiskey again and shook my head, "No. Thank you."
Once again, I let my ego win. I certainly wouldn't allow myself to share an office with my own brother.
….
While traversing the solitary night on my motorcycle, a glimpse of a mannequin, a creation from my factory days, caught my attention. Without second thoughts, I swerved my vehicle around and headed toward Prince & Company department store, a relic in Shibuya's history, nearly a centennial, now overshadowed by the bustling popularity of Illustra Department store. Despite its age, the building stood robust and grand as I arrived.
In the display window, amidst the rain-soaked night, I beheld the mannequin with pink hair, adorned in a maroon-red bolero hat and a matching dress, emanating a certain grace. The downpour sent pedestrians into a panic, but I found myself unable to avert my gaze from the mannequin, drawn by an intangible force.
My fingers could only graze the display glass, separated from my own creation. Though I hadn't given her a specific name, her hair, inspired by cherry blossom petals in spring, earned her the title Sakura.
"My God! It's you!" I exclaimed, captivated, and astonished. "I wanted to take you, but they wouldn't let me."
Momentarily abandoning reason, I pressed my face against the display glass, murmuring, "You're the first thing I've created in a really long time that made me feel like an artist."
A sudden jolt of reality snapped me back. This can't be real! Why am I conversing with an inanimate mannequin, soaked, and drenched? My brain must have descended into madness, perhaps relocated to my knees.
"No!" I scoffed, ridiculing my own insanity. "See you tomorrow."
As I turned away from the display glass, a lightning bolt abruptly descended. Fortunately, I remained unscathed on the wet sidewalk.
Then, a woman's voice whispered in my ear, "Thank you."
A shiver ran down my spine as I grasped the reality—no woman surrounded me.
Inebriated from an excess of whiskey or tormented by the stress of aimless unemployment, I pondered Naruto's suggestion; a visit to a psychiatrist might be in order.
Perplexed and alarmed by the bizarre encounter, I swiftly mounted my motorcycle, parked on the sidewalk, and raced through the rain accompanied by the night's lightning, my heart pounding.
Who could be the woman's voice that whispered in my ear?
Could it be...?
- To Be Continued -