Kizashi informed her that an interview wasn't necessary as his friend had agreed to have her as his assistant until he left Konoha for good. Sakura was relieved to say the least; she didn't know a thing about cinematography and would most likely fail at the first question. Having someone else speak on her behalf was a good thing, that 'someone' being her father was bonus. She was to start work in three days' time, until then she had to research on cinematography. The pinkette spent her time holed up in the library devouring whatever scroll she stumbled upon. She read the art behind cinematography as well as the commercial aspect of it. She checked in at the library at 0730 and checked out at 1600 every day. She was going to be the best assistant ever!
She had stumbled upon Hatake-senpai once as she went shopping with her mother at the fruit market. The pinkette had waved at him from the stall which was two spaces away from where he was standing. The jounin had waved back as if it was too tiresome for him to do so but had to do it anyways, holding the small orange book in his gloved hand. Her mother had sent her a look but she ignored it, opting to look a little too closely at the grapefruits. Mebuki didn't ask her on their way home or when they had arrived. Or even the day after. And for that, the Haruno girl was grateful.
Today would be her first day at work. She wore her usual qipao dress and green biker tights. She spent at least twenty minutes in front of her vanity brushing her hair until every strand was in place. She added a little too much hair gel which made her hair look glossier than usual. She had to make a good first impression. Taking her brown sling bag filled with two notebooks and pens, the old ones and the new ones that her mother had gifted her four days ago, the thirteen year old girl left her house at five a.m.
Her boss' office was located in the central business district of Konoha, where there were some expensive-looking high rising buildings. She felt a little underdressed as she passed by men and women wearing formal clothing. Even though there clothes weren't like the Western designs she had seen in the magazines, they were a mixture of Western clothing and their own traditional styles. She had to update her wardrobe very quickly if she wanted to become a business tycoon. Appearance mattered when all you had was words.
Sakura quickly clambered onto the elevator as soon as the doors opened; she was squashed in between way large and way taller bodies. She felt the adults glaring at her as she pressed into their sides. The civilian pointedly looked at her blue shoes.
She had never ridden an elevator before and movement caught her off guard as the elevator began to ascend to the fifth floor where her boss' office was located. It caused her to be nauseous and made her head hurt. She counted to a hundred and twenty before an electronic female voice notified her that she had arrived at the fifth level. Her short legs quickly carried her out of the elevator into the passage and she made her way to the second door on her left after turning right.
The door was brown and was written the number 0203 in a gold underlined italic font. She knocked twice before a slightly alto voice beckoned her to come in. The civilian cursed Makima-san, the woman who tutored her for eight years straight, for teaching her to recognize a person's tune merely by hearing them speak. It felt oddly uncomfortable for her to judge him, considering he was her boss.
The office was neat and tidy, even better than her bedroom which she always praised as the cleanest room in their three-bedroom apartment. Her boss was sitting behind a wide mahogany desk, with different papers scattered across him. A black telephone was on his right, a black paper cup on his left and a pen tucked behind his ear. He was staring intently at a grey folder, a silver watch on his wrist and a bronze ring on his index finger. He wore a pristine looking navy blue blazer and a light blue shirt with a standing collar.
He had faded black hair and several wrinkles etched onto his face, showing how far he was in years. He was probably about her father's age, she surmised. When she cleared her throat, the man looked up from his folder, clearly displaying his bushy mustache and narrow eyes which looked as if they were closed behind a pair of black, small round glasses.
"Asama-san?" she spoke as inched cautiously to his desk. "Ah, you must be young Sakura-chan. Please, take a seat," the older man spoke softly as he gestured to the chair on the other side of the table. Just by those words, Sakura felt at ease with him. She could see why her father would befriend him. "Good morning. My name is Sakura Haruno and I'm twelve years old," she told him as soon as she sat down. "You're Kizashi's only daughter right? He told me how you looking for a job and hoping to learn something new along the lines," he said. She nodded her head in agreement.
"I'm only here for two weeks before I have to travel to the Land of Snow but I hope you can learn a few things. i don't actively take part in cinematography but I'm the manager of a well-known actress, Yukie Fujikaze," the older man stated. He watched her intently, waiting for her reaction. None came. "Do you know Yukie Fujikaze?" he asked as he looked at her curiously. "Unfortunately, I don't," she replied with a sheepish smile. This Yukie person had to be important and Sakura felt ashamed for not knowing her.
"Hmmm, I'm quite surprised that you don't know her. Do you know Princess Fun then?" he asked. "No," she replied. Asama leaned back in his chair a little, looking off put. "Your father said that you read a lot of books, newspapers and magazines included. I thought you'd at least know the character she played in her movie," he spoke. Sakura could see that he was beginning to doubt her, the light in his eyes a tad bit dimmed when she said she didn't know Yukie.
"I do read books but I focused on medicine, history, mathematics, geography and ninja arts. I don't watch TV much but when I do, it's usually documentaries," she admitted. The dark-haired man looked at her for a long time before he let out a long sigh. "I suppose it's a good thing that you don't know Yukie-san then. It saves me a lot of trouble of having to deal with a fan," he said as he took off his glasses and wiped them with a black cloth.
"Let's do this then. I'll spend the next two days evaluating you and see if I can hire you. I need someone who is very competent, very intelligence and obedient. I'm sort of an assistant to Yukie-san but with our workload in the coming weeks, I need an extra pair of hands. Hopefully, by the time I have to leave, the paperwork would have eased off a little bit. Do you understand what I'm saying?" he asked her with a stern look on his face. Sakura nodded diligently.
Asama looked at her intently before a smile broke out on his face. "Good. Let's get to work then. I'm in urgent need of a coffee with only two sugars and lots of milk, no cream. There's a little café in the second floor where you can buy. After that, I need you to sort and arrange these documents in their chronological order, the pink one by dates, the red one by names and the orange one by QR code number. Then, I need you to buy me some scrolls and bond papers then take my suits to the dry cleaners at the corner, just after Hanamaru Avenue. Oh and also……"
By the end of forty-eight hours after meeting Sakura, Sandayu could say he was more than impressed with Sakura. Though she walked slightly slower than expected of her age and lacked physical strength, she made up for it in intelligence. The girl was a walking dictionary. He had asked her to write a document to the Ministry of Environmental Affairs, Ministry of Arts and Culture, and Ministry of Civil Relations asking if they could shoot one of their scenes in the village. The letters were short, precise and spot on, even better than he could have wrote.
And so he hired her. He thought he was pretty generous with her and when he paid for the last two days, Sakura's reaction and exclamation of "it's too much!" showed that he was indeed generous. She deserved it, the little petal. He could see why Kizashi suggested her for an assistant. If it weren't for the fact that he was leaving Konoha in a week's time, Sandayu would've had her for a long as possible. He also gave her notes on cinematography, the little bits he had gleaned off from Director Mikano. He ought to introduce her to the crew soon and maybe meet Yukie in person.
Perhaps, he'd bring her along to the Land of Snow and then come back with the Konoha shinobi accompanying them after finishing the shooting for the movie. He could do that least for her.
Once again, Sakura was grateful to her father for befriending Asama. She was also grateful that she was his daughter and was given such a golden opportunity to learn. It was a gazillion time's way better to learn practically than read books. As much as she loved to read, she had to admit; practical was a lot better than theoretical. And Asama was very kind and generous to her. He was also a slave driver; the man worked her to the bone more than she had ever done. She mentally berated herself for not giving enough attention to physical education at school. Between running to the second floor at breakfast and lunch and taking his suits from the dry cleaner's which were almost on the other side of the village, her legs could handle so much before giving out.
But she enjoyed working for him. It pushed her out of her comfort zone. With the money she was being paid, she hoped to buy a camera and a desktop, finally putting into use the knowledge she had acquired. Though Asama mentioned that he was a manager for a famous actress, she hadn't met the actress in person or even any of the casting crew or the director or whatnot. Perhaps she hadn't impressed the manager enough. She hoped that she could meet either one of them before her time was up.
Sakura glanced at the open notebook on her desk as she was seated in her bedroom. Her bedroom was painted in a cream color with several posters about animated characters stuck on the walls. She ought to remove those. Her bedcover was a deep maroon in color, with a teddy bear and dinosaur and several other toys she had as a kid. She had to remove those too. They were too childish and unbecoming for someone who wanted to become a prominent figure.
She hadn't slept on her bed ever since she made a decision to become a business tycoon. She spent most nights bent over her desk devouring as much information as she could about the business sector of Konoha and all the villages as a whole. She often dozed off seated there and woke up with the sun, not even having enough time to take a bath before she had to go to work. Asama wanted her at the office by six a.m. sharp.
On her notebook, she had written down a list of things to do during the weekend. Her boss gave her a half day on Saturday. Sundays were free to her. And today was Saturday. It was in the afternoon, she had finished work a while ago. The pinkette hadn't managed to visit the Uchiha graveyard in a long time and she had holiday work to do before school resumed in three weeks.
Ugh, school.
In as much as she was a nerd, she didn't like going to school. Sure, she liked the books and having someone else explain to her than try to understand herself. What she didn't like was the stinky breath when one of the male teachers leaned too close to her as they went over her work or the classmates who made sure to avoid her like a plague and the senior students who made fun of her hair color and picked on her about the size of her forehead.
She could skip grades. If she focused more than usual and aced her exams, she could skip two grades and be done with school in a year's time. She wrote down the goal in her notebook.
She also had to see Sukea and Genma again; they provided her information with a ninja's perspective. But she wasn't sure if they would be at Asuna's Pub. There was another bar which was frequented by shinobi more than often, the Rusty Kunai. They had to be there, right?
Mizuho found herself at the Rusty Kunai. She had checked Asuna's Pub for the unlikely duo but they were nowhere to be found. Plus the pub had a little less than usual customers this time hence she decided to check out the Rusty Kunai. Chances were she might not even see either one of the men but at least, she had to try. Today, she was dressed in a red loose t-shirt which was styled almost like a kimono, the sleeves, that is. A white sash was wrapped around her waist so that the shirt wasn't too baggy. She finished the attire with a pleated skirt that reached just above her knees and wore her usual blue shoes. Donning a pair of fingerless gloves and wrist guards, the civilian left her home.
She decided to use makeup that made her look more mature, more grown up. Even though when you became a genin, you were as good as an adult, Sakura didn't want to be asked way too many questions especially if she wasn't able to answer them. She just hoped that whoever she met today would not question her age as Genma and Sukea had done.
The Rusty Kunai, to be precise, was rusty. The place was small and dingy, with poor lightning and dirty but it was packed to the brim. One thing she was grateful for however was the anonymity the bar provided. Since it was always full with bad lights hanging overhead, everyone somehow blended in with each other.
Well, everyone except her.
"Mizuho!" she heard Genma's voice over the loud chatter of the shinobi present. She craned her neck to the left and saw the older jounin making his way over to her, pushing through the masses. The petite civilian waited for him to come to her. "If it weren't for your ridiculous pink hair, I wouldn't have spotted you," he greeted her with a grin. "I figured," she replied dryly.
He took her to his table where three other males were seated. A flash of silver her caught her attention. It was Hatake-senpai. She forced herself to look as neutral as possible. Hatake-senpai didn't know that Mizuho was Sakura's alter ego. For the umpteenth time, Sakura cursed her distinct pink hair, wide forehead and green eyes. No one in the entire Land of Fire or even in all the elemental nations had such features. Not to mention, she hadn't bothered to wear a wig to cover her hair. Her makeup did little to hide the fact that she was Sakura if Hatake-senpai was a good sensor and be able to recognize her signature little chakra signature.
"Hello, my lovely friends. This here is Mizuho, my newest best friend," he introduced her as he plopped her into the seat beside Hatake and took a seat next to the man wearing a green jumpsuit under the standard jounin vest. "Isn't she a little too young for you?" a deep voice asked. The man who had spoken, another jounin perhaps, had his beard and sideburns connected together. He had a tan complexion and a cigarette between his lips. Mizuho made at face at that.
"We're not like that," she spoke as she sent the man a pointed look. "Aww, and here I thought we were best friends," Genma said with a pout. "You can't have a grown man as your best friend unless he's your relative," she replied. "Then you must be really young then if it makes you uncomfortable to have me as your best friend," the senbon user told her. "Come to think off it, you never did tell me your age," he said as he looked at her with a questioning eyebrow raised. Panic rose up in her.
"My age doesn't concern you. Same way you haven't told me your age is the same way I won't tell you mine," she gritted out with a glare. "I'm 26 by the way," Genma said. That meant he was fourteen years ahead of her. "And I'm old enough to be in a bar sitting with a bunch of grown men," she snapped. "Does that satisfy your curiosity?" she asked as she began to feel a vein throbbing along her forehead.
"Maa maa, leave the kid alone. It's not like it's the first time seeing a teenager in the bar. All of us here were drunks by the time we were fifteen," Hatake-senpai stated beside her. "I'm not a drunk," she grumbled under her breath.
"The bearded hunk over there is Asuma, son of the Sandaime. The one sporting the jumpsuit is Guy. Beside you is Kakashi," Genma said, ignoring their earlier spat. "Nice to meet you," she said with a light bow. "It's an honor to meet Genma's youthful friend! I am Might Guy, Konoha's Green Beast! The power of youth lives on!" the green clad man exclaimed with a thumbs up. Mizuho was almost blinded by his smile. Plus how were his eyebrows so thick?
"Pleasure to meet you Guy-san," she retorted with a smile of her own. "I have to say you're a lovely young lady, your smile is so bright like the afternoon sun after a heavy storm, very youthful indeed," Guy spoke in an almost-shout. The man seemed to have a liking towards youth if the inclusivity of the word after every two seconds in almost every sentence was anything to go by. "Uh, thanks?" she retorted, not quite sure whether to feel grateful that he liked her seemingly sunny disposition or be freaked out that he almost sounded like he was flirting with her when he's double her age. "She's like Sakura," the silver haired ninja spoke beside her. Mizuho froze and turned to look at the man stiffly. Surely, he hadn't figured her out by now, right?
"I mean the flower, Sakura no Hana. Pink hair, remember?" he said with an eye smile as he gestured to her head. "Thanks for pointing out the obvious," she grumbled as she turned up her nose away from him with an indignant huff. Was he teasing her? Maybe, but it was not funny. "Aww c'mon guys. I just introduced you to my new friend and all you're doing is to make her feel uncomfortable," Genma spoke from beside her as he sneered at Guy in particular. "Well, she's being secretive about something that's an open secret," Asuma replied as he blew out a puff of smoke. "It's not a secret if it's out in the open," Mizuho snapped with an icy glare.
"I just think you're a little too young to be here, especially here with us guys," the tanned man retorted with a glare of his own. "No one's forcing you to be here," the pinkette sneered at him. "And no one asked you to be here kiddo," Asuma mimicked her. "I remember a certain someone inviting me here. But since you were so kind to make it clear that my presence is unwarranted and ridiculous for you then I'll take my leave."
She shot out of her seat and stomped away from the group. She was feeling furious. Ugh! The nerve of that jounin! With his stupid beard and stupid cigarette! And his stupid tan which looked more natural than artificial! She ignored Genma's call of her name and frog-marched out of the Rusty Kunai into the cool night. It was probably around ten. Her parents would be at home asleep. Good, she didn't have to explain to them why she was out at night dressed the way she was.
"Maa, I thought all flowers were supposed to be soft and pretty. I guess some are poisonous and could kill you."
Sakura almost jumped at the sound of Hatake's voice beside her. The older jounin was walking at a leisurely pace beside her. Even though her short legs were moving quickly, his longer strides covered the distance by half the time. "Well, roses have thorns. If you touch them wrongly, you get hurt," she replied. Hatake chuckled beside her, nose deep in that stupid Icha Icha book he was reading. Sakura's temper flared at that but she decided to keep her mouth shut. She didn't trust herself not to insult the man and all his ancestors before him with swear words her mother thought she didn't know.
"You have to forgive Asuma for his behavior today. He had a spat with his girlfriend earlier and took it out on you," the silver haired jounin spoke. When Sakura turned to look at him, his orange uncensored book was nowhere in sight. "If he wants my forgiveness, he has to come begging for it. It's not like I'm his girlfriend or that I dumped him," she huffed with an indignant huff. "I think a nice lady like you can make an exception for a guy with a broken heart," came the reply. "Please, I don't even know what his girlfriend saw in him to date a douche like him," Inner voiced herself clearly. "Wow, you really took that to heart." Sakura turned to look at him. They were standing under a street lamp.
"Why did you even walk with me? It's not like I know you or something. It's actually creepy," she said as she eyed him up and down suspiciously. "I just wanted to explain my friend's actions and plead on his behalf for forgiveness but it seemed not to work," Hatake replied. Sakura didn't buy it. Her expression said as much.
"And also, you interest me," he added with an eye smile of his single visible eye. Sakura blanched. Surely he couldn't be talking about- He wasn't seriously into her like that, was he? She was only twelve and her body hadn't even developed by much! "That sounds like a dumb pick up line from a cheesy novel," she forced out as she felt that she was about to hurl. Her stomach was doing funny things to her and panic slowly began to set in. Her frantic eyes looked around, searching for an escape route when west came to east. She smacked herself mentally as she had refused to take self-defense lessons two years ago. They would've come in handy today.
"Maa, I didn't mean it like that. I meant to say, what brings a twelve year old kid to a bar full of grown men? Your makeup had me fooled but I've seen quite a lot of ladies to know the difference between a kid and a grown woman. There's a kid you remind me of, same hair color. I just thought you were the same age," the jounin said with an eye crinkle. Sakura let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.
"Thank Kami, I thought you were a pedophile," she wheezed out a she put a hand over her chest to calm her heart which had been beating furiously. "I may read first class literature but I put my lessons into practice when need requires," he said a little too cheerfully. "Please, I don't want to hear it. Don't taint my pure mind," she groaned out as she covered her ears with her hands. Hatake laughed. It was deep and bellowed out like rolling drums, vibrating inside of her like that popular rock band which she had attended their performance once which she liked so much. 'Ew, that's gross,' she was disgusted with her description.
"But on a more serious note, what were you doing there? Do your parents know that this is where you are?" he asked as a look of concern crossed his features before disappearing. "Please don't tell my parents! They mustn't know under all circumstances," she exclaimed in alarm. "I won't if you tell me the truth," he said with a hard gaze. "Would you believe me even if I told you? It seems so wrong to be there with Genma and the others but I have no choice," she spoke, her voice small and lacking the fierceness she had displayed earlier. "I'll decide that when I hear the truth otherwise I'm telling your parents whoever they are," Hatake replied unbothered.
Sakura took a deep breath. She had never told anyone about her plans until now. It felt like exposing her soul to him, letting him know a side of her that she always kept secret. But if she didn't tell him, all her efforts would've gone to waste. "I want to become a business lady, a very prominent one. I want to have the power of a Kage or a Daimyo without occupying any of those offices. Even though I'm not a shinobi or come from a royal family, I want to be someone special. It all comes down to economics. I want to use that to make my place in the world. My parents are merchants; my family has been known for nothing apart from our green eyes since time immemorial. I want everyone to know my name, in every village, in every town. They'll know my name. Not as a villain but someone who made the world a better place."
Sakura hadn't realized that she was crying until she felt the snot and tears on her face. Ugh, she was ruining her makeup. "I'm sorry for crying. I'm such an ugly crier," she said as she wiped her face with her hands.
A warm hand rested itself atop of her pink hair.
She looked up to find Hatake looking at her intensely. She blinked her blearily eyes at him, heavy laden eyelashes making it difficult for her to see him clearly. But she felt the sincerity of his next words more in his single dark eye than his voice.
"I believe you."