CHAPTER 10

Month 4

Sakura's lessons had been rigorous from the start, covering everything from diplomacy to tradition, but nothing quite prepared her for her first session with Shikamaru. Known for his laziness as much as his brilliance, Shikamaru had stayed mostly behind the scenes, yet he was the one who had shaped so many of Nippon Koku's decisions from the shadows. Today, however, Sakura would see firsthand why he was so indispensable to Sasuke and the kingdom.

The room they met in was nothing short of a strategist's command center—maps, news clippings, screens filled with data about Nippon Koku's image in global media. Sakura felt a surge of curiosity as she stepped in, but also a nervous tension, knowing this wouldn't be an ordinary lesson.

"So," Shikamaru began, leaning back in his chair with his usual air of indifference, "ready to learn about curating the perfect royal image?"

Sakura raised an eyebrow, already suspicious. "Can anyone actually teach me that? Isn't an image supposed to be... well, real?"

Shikamaru's lips curled into a smirk, as if he found her comment cute - unrealistic. "Real is a matter of perception," he drawled, sitting back in his chair. "In the public eye, perception is reality. You can't be real, Sakura—not in the way you're thinking. Everything you do is filtered through the public's gaze."

Sakura leaned forward, intrigued despite herself. "So, all of this," she gestured to the screens around her, "is just to make me look better to the public?"

"Not just to look better," Shikamaru replied coolly. "To make sure you are the queen they want you to be. You, but tailored. The people don't need to see all of you, just the parts that reinforce the image we want to create."

Sakura folded her arms, already feeling some resistance rise. "And what if I don't want to play into those expectations? What if I don't want to hide parts of myself?"

Shikamaru didn't even blink. "Then you lose. The public can't accept what they don't understand, or worse, what they don't respect. You can still be yourself—but only the version that aligns with what the kingdom needs. You control the narrative by choosing which parts of yourself you show."

Sakura scoffed lightly. "So I'm supposed to be real, but only in a way that's calculated?"

"Exactly," Shikamaru said without hesitation. "There's power in that. Public perception isn't just about them liking you—it's about maintaining authority, influence, and stability."

Sakura leaned back, thinking it over. She understood what he was saying, even if she didn't like it. "So, basically, being queen is just one big performance."

"Partly," Shikamaru admitted. "But it's not just about performing—it's about strategy. Think of it like a chess game. You show certain moves to set up others. Every public appearance, every word you say, builds the image. And that image holds power."

Sakura tilted her head. "I get that public image is important. I'm not naive enough to think I can just be myself completely. But there has to be a balance. I want people to relate to me, to see me as one of them, not just some untouchable royal."

Shikamaru's gaze sharpened, impressed by her insight. "And that's exactly why you were chosen, Sakura. You're a commoner. You represent something the nobility never could—relatability. But we have to be smart about it. We'll emphasize that part of you, but only enough to connect with the people. Too much, and you risk losing the authority you'll need as queen."

Sakura narrowed her eyes at him, something clicking in her mind. "So, that's why you engineered the raffle, isn't it? It wasn't just a fairy tale—it was a calculated move to make people think the monarchy was connecting with the commoners. You made it look like fate when it was really just... a chess match."

Shikamaru smirked, clearly enjoying this verbal sparring. "You're sharper than I thought. Yes, the raffle was strategic. It made the people feel like they were involved, like they had a say in choosing their queen. But the reality is, we needed someone like you—someone who could bridge the gap between the palace and the people."

Sakura tapped her fingers thoughtfully on the armrest. "But why me, specifically? There were plenty of other women in the raffle."

Shikamaru leaned forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Because you're intelligent. You're adaptable. You're not just here to stand by Sasuke's side—you're here to help shape the future of the kingdom. Your background, your connection to the people, and your ability to think critically... that's why we chose you. You bring strategic advantages that the council, the people, and even Sasuke's opposition can't ignore."

Sakura stared at him for a long moment, absorbing everything he'd said. It wasn't the answer she had expected, but it made sense. She had always suspected the raffle was too neatly packaged, but now she understood the full extent of it. She was chosen for her strengths, her intellect, not just because of her commoner status.

"So," she said, leaning in, "what else do I need to know about playing this chess match?"

Shikamaru gave her a rare, genuine smile. "Now you're thinking like a strategist."

Their conversation shifted gears as they began to strategize over her public image. They discussed which facets of herself could be emphasized—her intelligence, her resilience, her care for the people. They also talked about how to maintain the delicate balance between relatability and authority, ensuring that she could connect with the public without undermining her role as queen.

"What about using publicity as a tool, not just to make people like me, but to actually get things done?" Sakura asked, intrigued by the possibilities.

Shikamaru nodded, clearly pleased with her thinking. "Exactly. Public perception can be a weapon. You can use it to sway public opinion on political decisions, to gain leverage in negotiations, even to challenge outdated traditions. The more the public trusts you, the more you can push for real change."

Sakura smirked. "So, it's not just about smiling for the cameras—it's about wielding influence."

"Precisely," Shikamaru said, moving his knight on the chessboard. "Every move has a purpose."

Sakura's eyes flicked to the board. "Then let's see how well I've learned my lesson."

The chess match became a reflection of their conversation, each move carefully calculated, each piece representing a facet of strategy and power. By the time the game ended, Sakura felt invigorated, her mind buzzing with possibilities.

Shikamaru leaned back, a smirk on his face. "You're better at this than I expected."

Sakura smirked right back. "Guess you'll have to up your game next time."

Later that week, Sakura found herself confiding in Sasuke about her lesson with Shikamaru. The two sat in his private study, the warm glow of the late afternoon light casting shadows across the room.

"I think I might've actually enjoyed that one," Sakura admitted, a small smile playing on her lips. "We played chess and sparred over strategy. It made me think differently about all of this."

Sasuke's expression remained stoic, but Sakura noticed the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Shikamaru doesn't praise easily. If he's impressed, it means something."

Sakura leaned back in her chair, a satisfied sigh escaping her. "I like the mental challenge. It made me feel like I'm... contributing, you know? Like I'm not just here to follow rules, but to actually make a difference."

Sasuke nodded slowly, his gaze steady on her. "That's because you are. Don't underestimate your role here."

A warmth spread through her chest at his words, and she smiled softly, instinctively falling into formality. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

But before she could fully settle into the practiced routine, Sasuke's eyes flickered, a barely perceptible shift in his expression. "In private," he said, his voice low and measured, "call me Sasuke."

The words hung in the air between them, a subtle command wrapped in intimacy. Sakura blinked, caught off guard. She hadn't expected that. The weight of his name felt strange on her tongue, a line she hadn't yet crossed. She had been drilled to refer to him as "Your Majesty," to keep the walls of formality intact. But now, here he was, breaking those walls down with just a few words.

"Sasuke…" she repeated softly, the sound of his name unfamiliar but powerful. It wasn't just a name—it was him, standing before her not as a king, but as a man. The simple act of saying it felt more intimate than anything else they had shared, even more than the hug.

For a moment, the air between them seemed to shift, growing heavier with a tension neither of them fully understood. It wasn't awkward, but charged, electric. The space between them felt smaller, more significant. Saying his name out loud, looking him in the eye as she did, was something entirely new. And somehow, it felt deeper than she had expected—more vulnerable.

Sasuke held her gaze, the smallest flicker of something passing through his eyes, though his expression remained composed. "That's better," he said quietly, as if the act of her saying his name had unlocked a new level of understanding between them.

Sakura felt her heart beat faster, not from nerves, but from the sheer intimacy of the moment. This was no longer a conversation between a queen-in-training and her king—it was something else. The formality they'd been wrapped in for months had dissolved, leaving only the two of them, more real than they had been before.

She smiled again, but this time it was different—softer, more genuine. "Thank you... Sasuke," she said, her voice quiet but steady.

The silence that followed was thick with a quiet intensity. Neither of them spoke, but they didn't need to. The connection they shared in that moment was enough, unspoken but understood.

And in that instant, the world outside the room—protocols, responsibilities, and the ever-watchful eyes of the court—faded away, leaving just the two of them, bound by something stronger than mere titles.

Sakura's lessons with Mikoto and Izumi had become a staple of her daily routine, each session reinforcing the weight of the crown she was to wear. The dynamic between them was formal, respectful, and carefully measured. Despite the warmth that sometimes crept into their interactions, the formality never wavered. Sakura always addressed Mikoto as "Lady Uchiha" and Izumi as "Lady Izumi," keenly aware of their positions in the royal family and the protocols she had been drilled to uphold.

Mikoto, with her gentle but firm approach, focused on the nuanced aspects of being queen—hosting dignitaries, managing the internal court dynamics, and the unspoken art of influence. Izumi, on the other hand, offered a more pragmatic view of the role, drawing from her own experience as the wife of the former king. She stressed the importance of emotional intelligence, understanding the weight of palace politics, and how to subtly steer discussions in her favor without stepping on toes.

"My Lady," Lady Uchiha said during one of their last sessions, her voice calm yet filled with authority, "you've come a long way. You've mastered much of what's required, but the hardest lesson is yet to come—managing the expectations of others. The kingdom will look to you for more than ceremonial duties. Your role in overseeing public welfare programs will be critical."

Sakura nodded, feeling the weight of her words. She had learned a lot in these lessons—how to host state dinners, engage with foreign dignitaries, and navigate the complex web of palace social circles. But it was the responsibilities outside the palace walls that interested her the most. Overseeing public welfare programs—a task that had both excited and intimidated her—was where she knew she could make a real difference.

"In Nippon Koku," Lady Uchiha continued, "the queen plays a significant role in maintaining internal stability. The programs you oversee must not only serve the people but reassure them that the crown has their best interests at heart."

Izumi, always more direct, added, "And these aren't just charitable initiatives for show. They affect the kingdom's stability. For example, the education reforms Itachi pushed forward—those were more than just public policies. They cemented his reign because the people felt their children's futures were secure under his leadership."

Sakura nodded again, thinking back to the research she'd done on past programs. Education reform was one area she felt she could contribute to. She had seen firsthand, in her own schooling and career as a nutritionist, how a focus on real-world skills had been missing.

Sakura nodded again, reflecting on what she had learned through her own experiences. "In my schooling," she began thoughtfully, "and even in my career as a nutritionist, I noticed something missing. The focus was always on academic achievements or physical health—subjects and facts. But there wasn't enough emphasis on preparing people for real life, especially when it comes to emotional resilience."

Lady Uchiha tilted her head, listening intently, while Izumi raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

Sakura continued, her voice growing firmer with conviction. "We teach people how to stay physically healthy, but what about mental health? What about coping with stress, anxiety, and all the pressures of modern life? The lack of attention to emotional well-being in our education system creates gaps in how people handle everyday challenges. And that's where I think we can make a difference."

Izumi's gaze softened with approval as she responded. "Mental health is something that affects every facet of society. You're right—if people can't cope emotionally, it impacts their productivity, their relationships, even their physical health."

Sakura leaned forward, her hands moving expressively. "Exactly. I've seen it as a nutritionist—clients struggling with their physical health because their mental state was neglected. Addressing mental health, teaching coping strategies, emotional intelligence, and offering support systems from an early age... it could create a more resilient society."

Lady Uchiha regarded her thoughtfully. "It's a bold approach. The kingdom hasn't prioritized mental health in the same way it does other public health initiatives. But that's precisely why it could work. It's a gap in our welfare programs that desperately needs attention."

"And it doesn't have to be huge, sweeping reform right away," Sakura added. "It could start with integrating mental health education into existing health programs, perhaps focusing on schools and workplaces. We could create community support systems, easily accessible resources for counseling, or workshops on stress management. It's about being proactive, not just reactive."

Izumi nodded, her smile more pronounced now. "I think you're on to something. This could be your unique contribution, something that will differentiates you as queen."

Sakura felt a surge of confidence, her earlier doubts fading. "It's something I truly believe could help the people of Nippon Koku. And if we support emotional well-being, we're also building a stronger, more stable society in the long run."

Lady Uchiha gave a small nod of approval. "You're thinking about the long-term effects—how these programs will support the kingdom's internal stability. That's exactly what a queen must do."

Izumi smiled, her gaze warm. "I like that you can see beyond the immediate tasks at hand. Mental health isn't just a policy—it's part of the kingdom's future. And I'm glad you'll be the one to bring it to life."

One of the most unexpected lessons - more a meeting or a test; a one off that left Sakura reeling in its aftermath - came from none other than Orochimaru. When the request came for Sakura to meet with him, she was uneasy. Orochimaru had a reputation—not just as a brilliant mind, but as someone who operated in the shadows, often employing questionable methods.

Orochimaru's contributions to Nippon Koku were both cutting-edge and controversial. As one of the leading figures in the kingdom's advancements in technology and medicine, his work had propelled the nation to the forefront of innovation, but not without raising eyebrows. His projects often danced along the edge of ethics, merging biotechnology with medical research in ways that both fascinated and unsettled the royal court.

His expertise lay in genetic engineering, pharmaceuticals, and technological innovations aimed at enhancing human potential. Orochimaru had been instrumental in developing advanced prosthetics for injured soldiers and civilians, cutting-edge medical treatment devices, and even experimental regenerative therapies that were said to blur the lines between medicine and augmentation. These projects had kept Nippon Koku competitive on the world stage, especially in the arenas of biotechnology and medical innovation. His contributions had bolstered the kingdom's military medicine, improved the healthcare infrastructure, and advanced its scientific diplomacy with other nations.

However, where her now mentor Tsunade focused on practical and ethical advancements in medicine, Orochimaru's methods leaned toward experimentation, unafraid to test boundaries in pursuit of scientific greatness. He had also been deeply involved in AI-driven medical research, developing systems that could diagnose and treat complex conditions, even before they presented symptoms. His overlap of technology and medicine was key to Nippon Koku's global influence in the tech industry, where his work had made the country a leader in medical tech exports and healthcare innovations.

Yet, Sakura's lesson with Orochimaru wasn't about simply learning from a genius. It felt more like a test—a challenge designed to push her beyond the comfortable teachings of Tsunade. Tsunade had always emphasized the holistic, ethical approach to medicine, whereas Orochimaru's focus was far more clinical, even cold.

The moment Sakura entered the dimly lit room for her lesson with Orochimaru, she felt a wave of unease. Orochimaru stood in the shadows, his assistant Kabuto nearby, the air around them almost oppressive. It wasn't just the room that made her uneasy—it was Orochimaru's reputation. He was revered for his brilliance, but also whispered about for his methods. His work had always carried an edge of danger, and his presence had a way of creeping under her skin.

Orochimaru smiled, his eyes glittering with something unreadable. "So," he began smoothly, "I hear you've been enjoying your... recreational lessons with Tsunade. A woman of great renown, no doubt."

Sakura felt a flicker of discomfort at his tone. "Yes, she's incredible. I've learned so much from her."

"Indeed," Orochimaru said, his smile widening in a way that was anything but reassuring. "Tsunade and I were once peers, you know. Both leading voices in the medical field. But while she chose a path of healing and restraint... I took a different approach."

Sakura swallowed, her heart beating a little faster. She'd heard about Orochimaru's complicated relationship with Tsunade—they had once walked similar paths, but now, they couldn't be more different.

He waved a hand toward Kabuto, who brought over a tablet with a series of complex medical scenarios. "Let's see how much of her teachings you've really absorbed. Shall we?"

Sakura nodded, steeling herself. The scenarios started off manageable—diagnostic puzzles, treatment plans for complex conditions. But soon, Orochimaru began throwing in challenges designed to make her uncomfortable. Ethical dilemmas, scenarios with morally gray choices, pushing her to consider solutions that felt cold and detached from the human element.

"What would you do if the only way to save a patient involved experimenting on another?" Orochimaru asked, his tone deceptively calm.

Sakura blinked. "I... would look for alternatives. You can't justify saving one life at the cost of another's autonomy."

Orochimaru's smile never faltered, but his eyes narrowed slightly. "And what if there were no alternatives? What if it was the only choice, and time was running out?"

"I'd still find a way," Sakura insisted, her voice growing more confident. "Medicine isn't just about the outcome. It's about doing what's right for all involved."

Kabuto smirked from his place in the background, adding, "Sometimes doing what's right isn't always what saves lives, Sakura."

Sakura met his gaze defiantly. "That's why we have ethics in medicine."

Orochimaru tilted his head, his eyes glinting with something dark and unreadable. "Tsunade has taught you well, then. But life isn't always that simple."

Sakura's discomfort had been mounting throughout the lesson, but it reached a peak when Orochimaru posed yet another twisted ethical dilemma. She straightened in her seat, her frustration bubbling over.

"I don't understand," she said, her voice firmer than before, "what any of this has to do with being queen. This feels less like a lesson and more like... some kind of test. Why does this matter?"

Orochimaru's smile barely faltered, but his eyes gleamed with a sharper edge. "Ah, My Lady, you're thinking too narrowly. The role of the queen isn't just ceremonial—it requires a breadth of understanding in many areas, including oversight of the kingdom's most critical projects."

He leaned forward, his voice softening in a way that felt almost predatory. "You may not be directly involved in medicine, but understanding the ethical dilemmas and power that come with it is essential. People like me operate within the shadows of progress. The queen must know what's happening in those shadows."

Sakura stared at him, feeling a chill creep down her spine. His words made sense on the surface, but the way he presented them felt wrong. Dark. Orochimaru was reminding her, in no uncertain terms, that the kingdom's power didn't just rest on traditions and appearances—it also depended on the advancements happening behind closed doors. Advancements he controlled.

She clenched her fists under the table, her voice tight. "I understand the need to be aware, but this still feels... off. You're testing me on things I don't plan on overseeing. I'm not going to be a scientist So, again, what is the point?"

Orochimaru's smile widened, but his expression remained unreadable. "The point, my Lady, is to open your mind to the possibilities you may not see yet. A queen's power isn't limited to her public image or diplomatic engagements. Sometimes, true power lies in the knowledge of what goes unseen—and how you choose to manage those who wield it."

Sakura held his gaze, refusing to flinch, but the feeling of unease only deepened. Orochimaru wasn't just offering her a lesson—he was subtly reminding her of the influence he held within the kingdom. She didn't need to be a doctor or a scientist to realize that unchecked power like his could lead to dangerous places.

Later that evening, Sakura sat alone, her mind spinning from the strange encounter. What had that lesson even been? It didn't feel like it had anything to do with preparing her to be queen. Orochimaru's challenges seemed more like a manipulation—a way to keep her off-balance, to make her question the very boundaries of what she thought she knew.

As she thought about it more, something nagged at her. Maybe it would be good for someone with moral soundness and medical knowledge to have oversight of Orochimaru. It wasn't enough that he was brilliant. His brilliance needed a check—someone who could evaluate the ethics of his projects, who could hold him accountable. She wasn't a doctor, but she had learned enough to recognize that letting Orochimaru have full reign over his work was risky. Dangerous, even.

Sakura shuddered at the thought of Orochimaru, unchecked and unchallenged, steering the kingdom's medical and technological advancements. It wouldn't do for someone like him to operate without oversight, especially when his projects could blur ethical lines as they did.

As unsettling as her lesson had been, it had sparked an important realization. She didn't have to master the field of medicine to see the importance of watching over those who did. The kingdom needed advancements, yes—but it also needed safeguards. And perhaps, that was where her role could come in.

Orochimaru's words echoed in her mind: "True power lies in the knowledge of what goes unseen—and how you choose to manage those who wield it."

Sakura resolved to ensure that she would be the one who managed it.

A few days later, Sasuke convened his inner circle for one of their regular strategy meetings. Around the table sat the kingdom's most trusted minds—Shikamaru, Naruto, Neji, Tenten, and a few other key advisors. The air was thick with purpose as they each prepared to update Sasuke on their respective domains. State affairs were in full motion, and with the wedding looming, the weight of their duties had only intensified.

Naruto was the first to speak, his tone laced with energy. "The negotiations with the southern territories are moving smoothly," he began, sliding a few papers across the table. "We've managed to secure better terms for trade, especially with agricultural exports. The people are on board, and the media's spinning it in our favor—no protests, no backlash. Everyone's happy."

Sasuke nodded thoughtfully. "Good. We need those alliances solidified. The south controls key shipping routes, and keeping those open will stabilize the entire region. Push to finalize the deal as soon as possible. We can't afford any delays."

Naruto grinned, clearly pleased. "Consider it done. I've also started working on a public address to emphasize the economic benefits of the deal. We'll make sure it's framed as a win for the people."

Neji, always calm and composed, shifted in his seat. "On the security front, our latest intelligence reports suggest no immediate threats from neighboring states. However, we've seen an increase in border skirmishes in the northern provinces. Small insurgent groups, nothing too organized yet, but it's something to keep an eye on. We've dispatched additional patrols to those areas, but we may need more resources allocated if the situation escalates."

Sasuke glanced at Neji. "I want a detailed report on those skirmishes. Make sure the defense forces are fully equipped and prepared. If it becomes a pattern, we'll need to act swiftly. We can't let any internal instability grow."

Neji nodded sharply. "I'll have the report on your desk by the end of the week."

As the meeting progressed, Tenten spoke up, her focus always on logistics. "The infrastructure projects are moving ahead, especially in the capital. The renovations for the upcoming wedding are on track. We're also working on expanding the public transportation system, which should help with the influx of tourists and dignitaries expected for the event."

Sasuke's gaze shifted to Shikamaru, who had remained characteristically quiet. His job was never about the day-to-day details, but rather the bigger picture. Now, he finally spoke, his tone lazy but sharp as ever.

"The public perception of you, Your Majesty, has changed dramatically since the raffle," he said. "Before, they saw you as distant. The stoic king, unapproachable. But the raffle? That made you look relatable. Human. People love the idea that you're taking a commoner bride—it's a fairytale to them. We need to play off that."

Naruto, sitting across from him, nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! People are eating it up. The whole 'reluctant king finds love' narrative—it's a dream come true for the media. But we have to be careful. We can't let it look too staged, or they'll turn on you. Right now, they're rooting for you, but that could change if we're not smart about it."

Tenten, always focused on logistics, pulled up a list on her tablet. "The key here is balance. We need to present both of you to the public, but in a way that feels natural. The first appearance can't be too grand or over the top—it has to be genuine. The media has already picked up on how much they love Sakura as this relatable figure, and we need to show that you two have real chemistry. No stiff, formal appearances."

Neji, sitting more composed, added, "It's important to remember that while this is about winning over the public, the council will be watching closely too. They're still divided on the idea of a commoner becoming queen, and some of them feel slighted by the way the raffle was handled. If we present Sakura as more than just a figurehead—as someone who can hold her own beside you—that will go a long way toward solidifying support internally."

Sasuke listened carefully, absorbing their input. They were right—before the raffle, he had been seen as cold and unapproachable. But now, the tide was turning. Sasuke's rise to the throne had been marked by skepticism. He wasn't Itachi, the beloved king everyone had adored; he was the quieter, more withdrawn younger brother who had spent years avoiding the public eye. His stiff, almost aloof demeanor had only fueled the public's reluctance to accept him. But the raffle had changed that. The entire event had been carefully orchestrated to shift the narrative around him, presenting Sasuke in a different light, and it had worked. Now, they had to figure out how to build on that success, especially with Sakura soon to be presented as his future queen.

Still, he had to be strategic. They couldn't afford to let the public think it was all for show, nor could they allow the council's doubts to fester.

Shikamaru broke the silence again, his voice as smooth as ever. "The public loves a good story. We've already got the foundation—reluctant king, relatable queen-to-be—but what we need now is the next chapter. We need to start planning your first public appearance as a couple. A soft debut, something that doesn't feel too orchestrated but gives them enough to believe in this union. I'm thinking a charity event. Something with a strong humanitarian angle. It plays to Sakura's strengths, shows her caring side, and it'll remind the public that you're more than just a ruler—you care about the kingdom's people."

Tenten nodded, glancing at her tablet again. "That could work. We've already set up some partnerships with education and healthcare organizations. Something that focuses on public welfare would be ideal. We could have Sakura visit one of the programs before her official debut, maybe get some footage of her interacting with the people, showing her natural empathy."

Naruto grinned, leaning forward. "You're thinking big, Shikamaru. I like it. But we also need to make sure that the chemistry between Sasuke and Sakura feels real. The people are going to want to see you two together, not just standing next to each other like statues. A charity event is good, but maybe we find ways to have you two interact more—maybe a joint speech or a moment where you're seen working together, like touring a facility. The public loves that stuff."

Sasuke remained silent for a moment, his thoughts turning inward. The public's perception of him had always been a complicated issue. He wasn't like Itachi, whose charisma had made him instantly beloved. But if the raffle had shown him anything, it was that strategy could shift even the hardest opinions. This first public appearance with Sakura would be critical, and it had to be perfect.

"Shikamaru, the charity event is a good idea," Sasuke said, his voice even. "Let's move forward with that. But it has to be done carefully. The focus should be on the cause, not on us. If it feels like we're making it about our image, it'll backfire."

Shikamaru nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Understood."

Neji, who had been quiet for a moment, spoke again. "It's also important that we prepare Sakura. She's done well in her lessons, but she's never been in the spotlight like this. The media will be watching her every move. We need to make sure she's ready for that level of scrutiny."

Sasuke agreed. "Start preparing her for the event. I don't want any surprises."

Shikamaru smirked. "She's a quick learner, Sasuke. I've been keeping tabs on her progress. She'll be ready. And more importantly, the public already likes her. We just need to give them more reasons to."

As the meeting wrapped up, the team began discussing the finer details—the logistics of the event, how to handle security, and the media's involvement. Sasuke listened carefully, but his mind wandered briefly.

The plan was sound. The people were already warming to the idea of him marrying a commoner, and this event would be the perfect way to solidify that connection. But still, as the prospect of their first public appearance as a couple approached, Sasuke couldn't help but feel a small twinge of nerves. The public had embraced the story of their union, but there was still so much he didn't know about Sakura.

Would they really have the chemistry needed to pull this off? Would the people see through it if they didn't? Or, more importantly... would it even matter?

He pushed the thoughts aside for now. There was no room for doubt. This was a calculated move, and it had to work.

"Let's get it done," Sasuke said, standing up and signaling the end of the meeting.

The real work was about to begin.

Month 5

The weeks leading up to the event were a whirlwind of activity. Sakura's schedule became even more grueling as she underwent additional training to ensure she was ready for the pressure of being in the public eye. Mikoto and Izumi had already instructed her in the finer points of etiquette, but now the focus shifted to media training, public speaking, and learning how to manage the subtle but critical balance of appearing both regal and approachable.

Shikamaru had set up a series of workshops with a media consultant, who taught her how to control her facial expressions, respond to reporters, and project the perfect image. "The people want to see the real you," Shikamaru had explained, "but they also need to see the queen-in-training."

Sakura found herself practicing her smiles in the mirror, learning how to exude warmth without appearing too casual, and rehearsing speeches until they felt natural. She was also made to prepare herself in front of a camera, ensuring that her body language would be just perfect.

In the week before the event, Sakura's team became more micromanaging than ever, but she didn't mind - she liked that she might be overprepared, knowing everything by heart would give her muscle memory, which would leave smaller room for mistakes. As preparations reached their peak, the most nerve-wracking part of the ordeal approached Sakura - the session she was about to have with Sasuke. It wasn't just any session—this was their one and only joint practice for the event. Sasuke's calendar was jam-packed, and despite their biweekly meetings, he had been forced to cancel one recently due to an important event. That had left Sakura feeling disappointed and a little unsettled. Their meetings, while often formal, had been an unexpected comfort. It felt strange to realize how much she had started to look forward to them, to that quiet time where they could talk and—perhaps unintentionally—begin to understand each other.

Moreover, the session today wasn't just for practice; they were here to take their official portrait together. It would be the first image of them as a royal couple, one that would be used across all media outlets to introduce Sakura to the kingdom ahead of the charity event. The stakes were high, and the pressure hung in the air like a dense fog.

Sasuke arrived before her, already standing in front of the ornate backdrop the photographer had set up. He looked as regal as ever, tall and imposing in his perfectly tailored black suit. His expression was serious, almost stern, and it was clear to Sakura that his mind was elsewhere—likely still on the council meeting he was heading to afterward. There was a certain tension in his posture that made her feel nervous.

She stepped into the room, her gown sweeping behind her as she joined him. It was a stunning deep red creation, chosen to contrast with his darker attire. The gown hugged her frame in all the right places, but despite its beauty, Sakura felt self-conscious, as though the weight of all the expectations was weighing down her shoulders. This wasn't just any photoshoot—it was about making a statement to the kingdom and the world.

The photographer gave instructions, but the awkwardness was palpable. Both Sasuke and Sakura stood stiffly, their bodies too far apart, their expressions too rigid. It didn't help that Sasuke had slipped back into his more formal, stoic demeanor. Sakura, despite her efforts to appear poised, found herself unnerved by his distant energy. The charge she had grown used to feeling in his presence was there, but it was overlaid with a tension she couldn't shake.

"Closer," the photographer urged, sounding exasperated. "You need to look like a couple. Stand closer together. We want warmth, connection."

Sasuke and Sakura exchanged a glance—one that was brief but charged with unspoken thoughts. The distance between them wasn't just physical today; there was an emotional gulf, too. Despite their growing rapport, there were still walls between them, walls built from duty, expectation, and the sheer weight of their roles. Sakura wondered if they'd ever feel truly at ease around each other, especially when their time together was so limited. She was also starting to have doubts about this event - no amount of rehearsal would overshadow the stiff formality of their coupling and people would definitely notice.

Sasuke shifted, moving a little closer, but it still felt forced. The photographer clicked his tongue, clearly unhappy. "This isn't working," he muttered, pacing around them. "You're not statues, for goodness' sake. Relax. Pretend you're enjoying yourselves."

Sakura let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "This is harder than I thought," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sasuke's lips twitched into what might have been a smile—or at least, the closest thing to one he could manage under the circumstances. "It's not exactly my forte either," he said, the edge in his voice revealing his impatience.

They tried again, but no matter how they positioned themselves, the result was the same: too stiff, too formal. Sakura could feel the frustration mounting. She had hoped this would be easier, that maybe spending more time with Sasuke would make their chemistry come naturally. But with his mind clearly preoccupied, the connection between them seemed out of reach.

Then it happened. As Sakura tried to adjust her stance, her foot caught on the hem of her gown, and she stumbled forward. Before she could fully process what was happening, Sasuke's arm shot out, catching her around the waist. He pulled her close, steadying her, his grip firm yet gentle.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stop. Their eyes locked, and the awkwardness that had defined the photoshoot vanished. In its place was something electric, something real. The air between them felt electric, and Sakura could feel her heart race as she met Sasuke's gaze. There was an intensity in his eyes that she hadn't noticed before, a flicker of something deeper than duty or obligation.

The photographer, ever the professional, didn't miss a beat. He snapped several shots as Sasuke helped her back to her feet, his hand still lingering on her waist, his fingers brushing against the fabric of her gown. Sakura smiled softly, the blush rising unbidden to her cheeks, and Sasuke—who had always been so reserved—looked almost bashful as he let go of her.

"That's it," the photographer said triumphantly. "That's the shot."

The awkwardness returned almost instantly as they stepped apart, both of them avoiding each other's gaze. The photographer, oblivious to the undercurrent between them, continued his instructions, but the rest of the session felt lighter somehow. The moment had passed, but it had left something behind—a shared experience, a spark they couldn't quite ignore.

The charity event had been months in the making—a carefully orchestrated introduction of Sakura to the people of Nippon Koku as the future queen. The stakes were high, and the pressure to ensure its success weighed heavily on everyone involved. This wasn't just about philanthropy; it was about presenting Sasuke and Sakura as a cohesive couple, a united front. The palace's logistics team, led by Tenten and Neji, had coordinated everything down to the finest detail, leaving nothing to chance. Shikamaru had overseen the strategy, ensuring that the public's perception would be carefully curated, and Naruto had taken the lead on making sure the event was framed positively in the media.

The event focused on two causes close to Sakura's heart: mental health awareness and youth education reform. Both were issues that she had been passionate about long before her new royal responsibilities, making the event feel authentic to her. Mental health programs had been severely underfunded, especially in rural areas, and youth education lacked a focus on real-world skills. By placing these causes at the forefront, the palace hoped to not only showcase Sakura's empathy but also her drive for change.

As the royal car pulled up to the venue, Sakura felt a wave of nervousness wash over her. This would be the first time she and Sasuke would stand before the public as a united front. Though their interactions had been growing more comfortable behind closed doors, the idea of performing that chemistry in front of the nation was a different challenge entirely.

Sasuke, seated beside her, was as composed as ever. His face was a mask of calm, but Sakura had come to learn that beneath that stoic exterior, he often carried the weight of his responsibilities heavily. She glanced at him as the car slowed to a stop, and for a brief moment, his gaze flicked to hers. In that quiet exchange, she sensed his own anxiety. Not that he'd show it to anyone else, but it was there—a subtle tension in his shoulders, a fleeting tightness in his jaw.

"We'll be fine," Sakura murmured, more for herself than for him.

Sasuke nodded, his tone quiet but steady. "We will."

As the car doors opened, the sound of cheers from the gathered crowd hit Sakura like a wave. The air was electric, buzzing with excitement and flashing camera lights that seemed to momentarily blind her. The reality of the moment sank in—this wasn't just another public event. This was her first appearance as the future queen, and the entire kingdom was watching. Every movement, every glance between her and Sasuke would be dissected, scrutinized, and analyzed. The pressure was immense, but amidst the overwhelming noise, she found herself anchored by one thing: Sasuke's silent presence beside her.

Sasuke stepped out first, his posture as regal and composed as ever, exuding the quiet strength he was known for. When he extended his hand to help her out of the car, his touch was brief but steady, and Sakura felt a sense of reassurance in that small gesture. She followed his lead, her own posture mirroring his as they stood side by side on the red carpet. They were poised, but there was a stiffness to their stance, as if they were both navigating the heavy expectations that came with their roles.

For the first few moments, it felt like a performance—a series of poses meant to project unity and strength. Sakura's mind raced, trying to remember everything Shikamaru had drilled into her about public perception. The key was to look connected, to exude a natural chemistry that the people would latch onto. But how were they supposed to do that when they were still figuring out their own dynamic?

Sakura glanced at Sasuke, who, despite his stoic expression, seemed more distant than she had anticipated. His focus was elsewhere, likely on the duties he had after this appearance. It made her hesitate, unsure of how to bridge the gap that had always seemed to sit between them. She felt the weight of the cameras on her, the reporters waiting for that perfect shot of the royal couple.

Determined not to let the moment slip, Sakura took a small step closer to him. Her arm brushed against his lightly, a deliberate yet subtle move meant to bring them together. For a moment, she felt her heart race, unsure of how Sasuke would react to the sudden contact.

He didn't pull away. In fact, Sasuke glanced at her, his eyes flickering with a trace of surprise, but he allowed the closeness. Something in his expression softened, just slightly—almost imperceptibly to anyone who didn't know him well. Sakura caught it, though, and in that brief exchange, something shifted. They weren't simply standing together for the cameras anymore; there was a shared understanding that passed between them, an acknowledgment of the enormity of this moment.

As they turned to face the crowd again, Sasuke's hand gently settled on the small of her back—another subtle gesture, but one that created an immediate sense of connection. It wasn't just for show. For the first time, Sakura felt like they were truly in sync, their actions aligned not out of obligation, but out of necessity.

They didn't need to exchange words. The chemistry between them was growing—slowly, but steadily—and it was something that couldn't be forced. It just needed moments like this, moments of shared vulnerability in the face of overwhelming pressure.

Their expressions softened as they faced the cameras together, the formal stiffness fading into something more natural. The crowd responded with renewed enthusiasm, as if sensing that this wasn't just a royal couple posing for photos. They were witnessing something real, something deeper than the pomp and circumstance.

Sakura found herself relaxing into the moment, no longer just playing a part. Sasuke's presence was no longer just an external support—it was becoming a partnership, and she could feel the weight of their shared responsibility lifting slightly with every step they took together.

By the time they walked toward the entrance of the event, the media frenzy still buzzing around them, they had settled into a rhythm. Sasuke's hand remained light on her back, and she occasionally glanced up at him, catching the faintest signs of ease in his demeanor. In those moments, they weren't just two people brought together by circumstance. They were a team—a partnership that was slowly finding its footing in a world that demanded so much of them.

As they walked into the event, Sakura felt a renewed sense of confidence. Their chemistry, still in its early stages, was beginning to show. And the public? They were already buying into it, their reactions speaking louder than any headline.

The first part of the event required them to move from table to table, meeting with representatives from various grassroots organizations. It was here that Sakura truly came into her own. Engaging with the attendees, she didn't just nod and smile—she listened, really listened. Each story shared felt like a thread weaving her more deeply into the causes she had come to support. Her questions were thoughtful, probing, and her suggestions showed an understanding that went beyond surface-level sympathy. She wasn't just offering royal platitudes; she was engaging in real conversations about how the kingdom could make a tangible difference.

Sasuke, standing by her side, was less vocal but no less involved. He let her lead, his presence lending quiet authority to everything she said. Though he spoke infrequently, when he did, his words were precise, adding depth to Sakura's warmth. His weeks of research on the policies showed, as he offered specific insights and practical solutions. Together, they struck a balance—the passion of Sakura's empathy complemented by the cool, calculated strength Sasuke brought to the table.

It wasn't just about creating a good public image. Their connection was evident in the way they instinctively adjusted to one another's rhythm. And the people noticed.

One particular moment stood out when a young woman shared her struggle with accessing mental health care in her rural village. As the woman spoke, her voice thick with emotion, Sakura knelt beside her, eyes full of concern. "I've heard stories like yours far too often," she said softly. "We've already started laying the groundwork to make care more accessible in areas like yours, but we need to do more. And we will. I promise."

The young woman looked up, her face hopeful. Sasuke, who had been observing quietly, placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice low but resolute. "Your voice matters, and we'll make sure it's not ignored."

The event continued, with more moments like that—authentic interactions that showed the public that Sasuke and Sakura were committed to more than just photo ops. Their team observed from the sidelines, monitoring the flow of the event and ensuring everything was running smoothly. Each knew that this event was more than just an appearance. It was a test of the new image they had crafted for Sasuke and Sakura as a couple.

The pinnacle of the event came when Sasuke and Sakura were called to give their joint speech—a moment that would determine how the public viewed them as a couple and as leaders of the kingdom. Sasuke, as expected, stepped up to the podium first, his posture stiff but commanding. Public speaking wasn't his strength, and it showed in the way his words, though sharp and authoritative, lacked the emotional resonance needed to connect with the people.

"We stand here today to reaffirm our commitment to the future of Nippon Koku," Sasuke began, his voice deep and measured. "Our progress hinges on two critical areas: education and mental health care. Both are essential in building a resilient society. These new initiatives will ensure that no one is left behind, whether it's in the classroom or when facing the invisible battles of mental health."

His speech was precise, direct, and authoritative—exactly what was expected from a king. But as always, it was missing the warmth needed to stir the hearts of those listening. There was a polite applause when he stepped back, but nothing more.

Sakura took a deep breath before stepping up to the microphone. She wasn't used to speaking to such large crowds, but this was her moment to bridge the gap Sasuke's formality had left.

"Thank you," she began, her voice softer, but with a quiet confidence that immediately drew the audience in. "Mental health isn't just a policy issue to me—it's personal. As a nutritionist, I've worked with countless people struggling with their diets, but what's often overlooked is the underlying cause of those struggles—mental health. So many of my clients were battling anxiety, depression, and stress, and it was taking a toll on their bodies as much as their minds."

She paused, letting her words settle before continuing, her tone more emotional now. "I've seen firsthand how bad mental health can affect every aspect of a person's life. Imagine trying to eat, sleep, or simply function when your mind is weighed down by things you can't control. In Nippon Koku, thousands of people—people like you and me—are facing these struggles every single day. And many of them don't have the resources or support to cope."

The crowd was silent, listening intently as she spoke from her own experience. "I remember one man I worked with. He was a father of three, working multiple jobs just to stay afloat. He struggled with depression, but like so many others, he didn't think he could ask for help. He was afraid of what his family would think, or how it might impact his work. By the time he came to me, he was barely eating, barely sleeping—just surviving. And he's not alone. There are thousands of people who feel exactly like that—like they're on their own in a battle they can't win."

Sakura's voice grew stronger, her passion clear. "That's why our new policies matter. We're not just creating programs—we're making sure those programs reach the people who need them. We're building a network of accessible mental health services, so no one has to feel like they're fighting this battle alone. We're going to have specialists in every region of Nippon Koku, with affordable care options for everyone, and we're working to remove the stigma that keeps people from asking for help."

She offered statistics from her own experience, explaining how studies had shown that better mental health care led to healthier diets, more productive lives, and overall better well-being. "The truth is," she said, "mental health affects everything—your body, your relationships, your ability to work. And when we ignore it, we're ignoring the foundation of a healthy society."

Sakura glanced at Sasuke, her eyes meeting his for just a moment, and for the first time, they seemed to be on the same page. "Together, with these new initiatives, we're going to make sure no one in Nippon Koku feels like they're in this alone. We're going to build a future where everyone, no matter where they are or what they're going through, has the support they need."

The applause was immediate and genuine. The audience had connected with her personal, heartfelt speech, and the atmosphere in the room shifted. For the first time, the public could see that Sakura and Sasuke weren't just a royal couple—they were a team, working to make real change.

As Sakura and Sasuke exited the stage, their team was already hard at work behind the scenes. Shikamaru had set up a real-time monitoring system in the event's back room. Screens displayed social media reactions, live news coverage, and various media mentions. Naruto and Neji were by his side, scanning the data as it poured in.

"Public sentiment is overwhelmingly positive," Shikamaru remarked, his eyes on the analytics. "Sakura's speech resonated. People are talking about her authenticity, how relatable she is."

Tenten grinned, crossing her arms. "That's exactly what we needed. They see her as one of them, and that's turning Sasuke's image around too. The chemistry between them is trending."

Neji nodded thoughtfully, adding, "Sasuke's speech laid the foundation. His authority, her empathy—it's a perfect balance. They complement each other well, and the public is picking up on that."

The data confirmed it. Social media was flooded with positive reactions, praising Sakura's vulnerability and heartfelt words. Many posts mentioned how they felt connected to her in a way they hadn't with the royal family before. Had he been someone more extroverted, Shikamaru may have done a high-five. Since he wasn't, he settled with a satisfied smirk.

Month 6

Sakura sat by the window of her lavish palace suite, staring out at the sprawling gardens bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. Her mind was restless, caught in a web of introspection she hadn't been able to shake for weeks now. It was strange—surreal, even—how her life had changed in such a short time. From a nutritionist with modest ambitions to the fiancée of the king, her path had taken a turn she never saw coming. And with it, something else had crept up on her, something she had tried to push aside but could no longer ignore.

She was attracted to Sasuke.

The realization had been slow, like a storm building on the horizon. At first, she'd brushed off the flutter in her chest whenever they had their biweekly meetings. It was nerves, she told herself. After all, she was set to marry the King of Nippon Koku—nerves were to be expected. But as the days turned into weeks and their interactions deepened, the truth became harder to deny. It wasn't just about his looks, though she couldn't deny how breathtaking he was. It went beyond that, into something more mindful, more profound.

Sasuke had a way of moving through the world that intrigued her. He was calm, steady, his quiet authority commanding respect without the need for loud words or grand gestures. He wasn't cold, but reserved, a man who kept his emotions guarded but never failed to care in his own, subtle ways. It was the way he had arranged her lessons with Tsunade, the way he made sure she was adjusting to palace life, and the way he never pressured her into being something she wasn't.

She liked him. She liked him more than she wanted to admit.

But it wasn't just admiration anymore—it was something deeper, something that made her stomach twist with both excitement and fear. Sasuke wasn't like other men. He was distant, almost unreachable at times, and yet she found herself craving a connection with him. She wanted to know him, to understand what lay beneath that stoic exterior. And that terrified her. What if he didn't feel the same? What if their marriage became nothing more than a duty, an obligation, without any real intimacy? The thought gnawed at her, leaving her more anxious than she cared to admit.

She sighed and picked up her phone, dialing the one person who always knew how to cut through her tangled emotions. Ino picked up on the second ring.

"Sakura! It's been forever!" Ino's voice was bright and familiar, immediately bringing a smile to Sakura's face.

"Ino, I need your help," Sakura said, her tone more serious than usual.

"Uh-oh," Ino teased, though there was a note of concern in her voice. "What's going on?"

Sakura hesitated, her fingers gripping the edge of the windowsill as she stared out into the garden. "I think... I think I'm attracted to him."

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line. "Wait. To Sasuke? As in, your future husband, Sasuke?"

Sakura nodded, even though Ino couldn't see her. "Yeah. I know it sounds ridiculous, but... it's more than just physical. I mean, yes, he's—he's beautiful. But it's the way he handles things. He's so composed, so practical, and I really... I like that about him. I like the way he cares, even if it's not obvious."

Ino's teasing tone softened, replaced by something more thoughtful. "Well, that doesn't sound ridiculous at all. It sounds like you've caught feelings."

Sakura let out a groan, sinking further into the chair. "That's the problem. I've caught feelings, but he's always so busy. I barely see him outside of official meetings, and even then, it's all so formal. I don't know how to... connect with him. I don't even know if he feels anything for me."

"Well, have you tried figuring out what his love language is?" Ino asked, her tone casual, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Sakura frowned. "Love language?"

"Yeah, you know—how people show affection. Like, you're a gift-giver, Sakura. Remember that ridiculously expensive handbag you bought me for my birthday, even though neither of us could really afford it? That's your love language. Thoughtful gifts. You show you care by giving people something meaningful."

Sakura thought back to that memory, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Okay, but how am I supposed to know what his love language is? He barely talks about himself."

Ino huffed on the other end. "Well, think about it. How does he show you he cares? I mean, he's done stuff for you, right?"

Sakura's mind immediately went to all the little things Sasuke had done since they started this journey together. The way he arranged for her lessons with Tsunade, how he'd adjusted her schedule when things got overwhelming, the quiet check-ins after events. None of it was grand or romantic, but it was thoughtful.

"Maybe... thoughtful gestures?" Sakura mused aloud. "He's practical, you know. He does things to make my life easier, without making a big deal out of it."

"Exactly!" Ino said, her voice triumphant. "So, if his love language is thoughtful gestures, why don't you try doing something like that for him? I don't know—cook him a meal or something."

"Cook him a meal?" Sakura repeated, skeptical. "I don't even know what he likes to eat."

"Well, find out! Ask around. Do something that shows him you're paying attention. Trust me, it'll mean something to him."

Sakura mulled it over for a moment. The idea was... sweet, in a way. A small gesture, but one that could show Sasuke she cared. And maybe, just maybe, it would open the door to something more.

"Alright," Sakura said finally. "I'll figure something out."

The next day, with Ino's words still echoing in her mind, Sakura decided to enlist Hinata's help. The two women had grown close over the past few months, and if anyone knew the subtle details of palace life, it was Hinata.

"Hinata, can I ask you something?" Sakura began, glancing around the quiet hallway as they walked.

"Of course, Sakura," Hinata replied, her voice soft as always.

"I... I was thinking of doing something thoughtful for His Majesty, but I don't really know what he likes. Do you have any idea what his favorite food is?"

Hinata looked surprised at the question, then smiled kindly. "I'm not sure, but I think Lady Mikoto would know. She's his mother, after all."

And so, later that afternoon, Sakura found herself sitting awkwardly in a private parlor with Mikoto, unsure of how to broach the subject. She had grown comfortable with Mikoto over the months, but this request felt... different. More personal.

"What is it, dear?" Mikoto asked, her voice warm and inviting, though there was a curious glint in her eye. This was the first time they were meeting outside of necessity, and Sakura felt quite intimidated. Nevertheless, she took a deep breath, her cheeks flushing slightly and plodded on. "I was wondering... if you could tell me what His Majesty likes to eat? I wanted to, um, cook something for him.."

Mikoto blinked in surprise but then smiled, her expression softening. "What a lovely idea, My Lady. His Majesty loves simple food, really. Onigiri is one of his favorites, and he's particularly fond of tomatoes. Anything with tomatoes, really."

Sakura's face lit up. "Thank you so much! I'll make sure it has plenty of tomatoes."

Sakura stood outside the training hall, fidgeting slightly as she waited for Neji to finish his current briefing session. She wasn't exactly close to him, but if anyone could help her navigate Sasuke's packed schedule, it was his personal assistant. Normally, Sakura would have followed the day's lesson plan to a T, but this time, she had something more personal on her mind.

When he finally emerged, his expression was as focused and professional as always. He caught sight of Sakura, who was clearly waiting for him, and raised a curious eyebrow.

"My Lady? Do you need something?" he asked, glancing at the tablet in his hand.

Sakura took a deep breath, pushing aside the awkwardness she felt. "Yes, actually. I was wondering if you could help me find a small window in His Majesty's schedule tomorrow. I want to... do something nice for him."

Neji's curiosity deepened, though his face remained neutral. "His Majesty's schedule is tight, but I'll take a look. Why, though? What are you planning?"

Sakura felt her cheeks heat up slightly. "I, uh, wanted to make him a meal. Something simple, just to show some appreciation."

Neji's expression softened slightly, though his professional demeanor remained. "Alright, I understand. Let me check." He scanned through his tablet quickly, looking at the intricate puzzle of Sasuke's appointments. "He has a brief break in his private office tomorrow afternoon. You'll have about 30 minutes before he's pulled into his next meeting. Does that work?"

Sakura nodded eagerly, grateful for the chance. "That's perfect. Thanks, Neji."

"Don't mention it. Just... make sure you use your time wisely. His Majesty isn't one to indulge in long lunches." There was a faint, almost unspoken understanding in his tone, but it stayed professional as always.

Once Neji left, Sakura faced the next big hurdle: clearing her own schedule. Normally, she'd never even consider pushing aside her responsibilities—but for this, she had to find a way.

She reviewed her day. There was a protocol lesson in the morning she couldn't skip, but she made the decision to delay her history session to the evening, just this once. After that, she could squeeze in some cooking time before noon. It wasn't perfect, but it was the only way to make this work without completely messing up the timetable.

That night, she tossed and turned, nervous about the cooking - something that wasn't exactly her strength, and the thought of making something for Sasuke of all people only added to the pressure. But she really wanted to do this right, so early the next morning, right after her protocol lesson, she darted straight to the palace kitchens.

The kitchen staff eyed her with surprise, not used to seeing her down there. After explaining what she was attempting, they offered some assistance, but mostly let her handle the preparations. The dish she'd settled on was tomato-stuffed onigiri—simple but thoughtful, knowing from Lady Mikoto that Sasuke had a fondness for tomatoes. The hour ticked by, and after some stressful trial and error, she managed to get everything together.

As she packed the carefully made onigiri into a bento box, Sakura couldn't help but smile a little, despite her nerves. It wasn't perfect, but it was hers and she really hoped he liked it.

By the time Sakura made her way to Sasuke's private office, the lunch hour was nearing, and her nerves were running high. As she approached the door, she was immediately confronted by Sasuke's alternate day security detail—the Sound Four.

Unlike the more relaxed atmosphere of his Team Hebi, these four weren't exactly the jolly, teasing type. Tayuya, Kidoumaru, and Sakon all eyed her with suspicion as she approached with the bento box in hand, their posture rigid, their expressions unwelcoming. She nearly wished she hadn't left Kimimarou at the end of the hall for this - at least she'd have some silent support if he were there.

Tayuya blunt as ever, was the one to ask, "What do you want?"

Sakura's heart raced a little faster, but she steadied herself. "I made something for His Majesty," she said, holding up the bento box. "It's just lunch."

Sakon stepped forward, inspecting the box with a sharp gaze. "Everything brought to His Majesty has to be tested first."

Without waiting for her permission, Kidoumaru snatched the box and opened it, hand flexing as he grabbed a piece of onigiri. His eyes were cold as he took a deliberate bite, chewing slowly.

"Well?" Tayuya asked, her tone sharp.

Kidoumaru chewed for a moment longer before nodding begrudgingly. "It's fine. No poison."

Tayuya rolled her eyes but waved Sakura through. "Fine. You're clear."

Sakura let out a quiet breath of relief as she was finally allowed into the office. The door clicked shut behind her, sealing off the tension from the hallway. As always, the room was calm, filled with the scent of fresh paper and ink, the soft light from the windows casting long shadows over Sasuke's desk. He was hunched over a stack of documents, clearly absorbed in his work.

When Sasuke looked up from the sea of paperwork, his dark eyes widened just the slightest bit—a flicker of surprise, quickly hidden behind his usual stoic expression. "Sakura?" he asked, his voice calm, but touched with the faintest note of curiosity. "What are you doing here?"

Sakura's pulse quickened, and for a moment, her words stuck in her throat. She felt uncharacteristically nervous, standing in his office with a bento box in hand. Oh God, what was I thinking? She stepped closer, trying not to fumble the simple sentence she had rehearsed a hundred times in her head.

"I, uh... I brought you something," she said, setting the bento down on his desk. Her hands twitched nervously. "It's... just some lunch. I thought maybe you'd want something homemade?"

Sasuke's gaze shifted to the bento and back to her, the surprise still lingering in his expression, though his face remained unreadable. For a moment, he just stared at it, as if he wasn't entirely sure what to do.

"You made this?" he asked, his voice as quiet as ever.

"Yes, um..." Sakura scratched the back of her neck, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other. "I thought... I don't know. I thought it might be nice, but... maybe you had something better planned, or—" She stopped herself, cheeks reddening as she waved her hands. "You probably had something ordered, or... now I'm just making you eat my plain onigiri, and I'm mortified."

To her surprise, Sasuke's lips quirked up slightly at the corner, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "I didn't have anything planned," he said, his tone dry, as if he found the entire situation vaguely entertaining. "I rarely eat lunch."

Sakura's jaw nearly dropped. "You... skip lunch? Regularly?"

He gave a small, nonchalant shrug, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I don't have the time."

Sakura, the former nutritionist in her, bristled at the thought. "Sasuke," she began, deliberately dropping formalities, her voice gentle but with a firm undertone, "skipping meals is terrible for your health. You need proper nutrition, especially with all the stress you're dealing with. How do you expect to keep up your strength if you're not eating regularly?"

Sasuke blinked, taken aback by her mild scolding. He wasn't used to anyone speaking to him this way—certainly not about something as mundane as meals. His expression remained unreadable, but for a moment, his gaze softened as he studied her. There was something about her concern, so genuine and unguarded, that made him pause.

He didn't reply, and the silence that followed wasn't awkward—it was heavy, reflective, and filled with an unspoken weight. The simple mention of health had triggered thoughts neither of them wanted to say aloud, but both felt deeply.

Itachi.

The shadow of his illness loomed over them both. His condition was deteriorating, and they both knew it, though neither acknowledged it in words. Sakura's concern for Itachi ran deep—she had long admired him, both as a ruler and as a person—and now, watching his health decline hurt more than she could articulate. And for Sasuke... it was a burden that never left his mind, no matter how hard he tried to focus on his duties.

In the silence, they didn't need to speak Itachi's name. The weight of his illness hung between them, shared and understood. There was no need for words.

Without acknowledging the sudden dark cloud hanging over them, Sasuke quietly opened the bento Sakura had brought. His eyes fell on the neatly arranged rows of onigiri, and his brow furrowed slightly, as if surprised by the simplicity of the meal. He picked one up, examining it carefully before taking a slow, deliberate bite.

Sakura watched him like a hawk, her heart pounding in her chest. Every nerve in her body was on edge, waiting for his reaction. She hadn't realized just how much she cared about whether he liked it or not, but now, standing here, she felt like the world hinged on his response.

Sasuke chewed slowly, his expression calm as ever, but there was a flicker of surprise in his eyes as the flavor hit him. Tomatoes. He glanced up at her, curiosity lighting his gaze. He didn't say anything, but the question was clear: How did you know?

Sakura waited, wondering if he'd ask, but when he didn't, she decided to keep it to herself. Let it be a mystery. She had gone through the trouble of asking his mother, but something about revealing that felt too... vulnerable, too much like giving away a secret she wasn't quite ready to share.

Instead, she just stood there, hands clasped nervously in front of her, waiting for any indication that he liked it—or, at the very least, didn't hate it.

"It's good," Sasuke said after a moment, his voice quiet, but the sincerity was clear.

Relief washed over her, and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "I'm glad you like it," she said softly, offering him a small smile.

The silence between them lingered, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It felt... deeper, as if they were communicating more in the pauses than in the actual conversation. The weight of their shared concerns, the looming shadow of Itachi, and the simple connection over a homemade meal—it all combined into something quietly intimate.

As Sasuke took another bite, Sakura watched him, studying his calm demeanor, the way he carried himself with such understated authority. There was something magnetic about him, something that made her heart ache in ways she wasn't fully ready to admit. He was quiet, reserved, and often unreadable, but in moments like this—moments where his guard dropped just a little—she could see a glimpse of the man behind the king.

"Thank you," Sasuke said again, his voice still soft, but this time, there was an unmistakable warmth in his tone.

Sakura's heart fluttered at the sound of his voice, and as they shared one last, quiet moment, she couldn't help but feel that this was more than just lunch. It was something unspoken, something deeper—and though neither of them could fully articulate it, it was there, quietly building between them.

As she left his office, the door closing softly behind her, Sakura felt her heart race. He liked it. And for the rest of the day, she couldn't shake the feeling that, somehow, they had shared something more meaningful than she'd expected.

tbc

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