Chapter 3
Sakura Haruno stood outside the towering glass skyscraper of Uchiha Enterprises, her breath fogging slightly in the morning air. She clutched her plain black tote bag tightly, staring up at the monolithic structure that practically screamed wealth, power, and impossible expectations.
She was about to walk into the lion's den.
Her parents had been thrilled when she told them she'd landed a job at the Uchiha Enterprises. "Our Sakura!" her mother had exclaimed, wiping her hands on her apron before pulling her into a flour-dusted hug. "Working for the Uchihas! What an honor!" Her father had nodded along, his quiet pride evident in the way he'd promised to make her favorite hot pot for dinner that night.
They didn't know, of course, that Sakura had applied for the position out of sheer desperation.
The Harunos owned a small, unassuming restaurant in a quiet part of the city. It wasn't glamorous, but it was theirs. Sakura had grown up in the kitchen, helping her parents wash vegetables, fold dumplings, and tally receipts. It was a simple, honest life, and her parents had been happy to stay within its modest boundaries.
But Sakura had never been content with "simple."
Her fascination with medicine had started when she was seven years old. A documentary about open-heart surgery had been playing on the TV in the restaurant's tiny back room, and Sakura had stumbled across it by accident. Her mother had tried to shoo her away, scandalized by the sight of the surgeon lifting a patient's heart from their chest cavity, but Sakura had been transfixed. She didn't see gore—she saw wonder. The intricacy, the precision, the sheer brilliance of the human body laid bare.
From that moment on, she wanted to be a doctor. But dreams, she quickly learned, didn't come cheap.
Her family couldn't afford med school, and student loans were out of reach thanks to some bureaucratic nightmare involving their restaurant's inconsistent income records. So instead, she'd earned a diploma in Corporate Governance—a practical, affordable option that she didn't love but could live with—and started hunting for jobs.
When she saw the Uchiha Enterprises job posting online, she'd hesitated. The requirements were intimidating, and her qualifications felt laughably inadequate. But the salary was too good to ignore. She'd submitted her CV on a whim, fully expecting it to be deleted before anyone even glanced at it.
What she hadn't expected was a call two weeks later inviting her for an interview.
Itachi Uchiha had been intimidating but polite during their meeting. His questions had been probing, his gaze sharp, and Sakura had left the interview certain she'd blown it. She'd been honest—she wanted the job for the money, plain and simple—but maybe honesty had worked in her favor. She wasn't sure why he'd chosen her, but when the offer letter arrived, she hadn't wasted a second accepting it.
Now, as she stepped into the pristine lobby of Uchiha Enterprises, her heels clicking against the polished marble floor, she reminded herself why she was here.
Save enough to get into med school. Keep your head down, do your job, and stick it out.
Her first encounter with Sasuke Uchiha was everything she'd expected—and worse.
"Your résumé is underwhelming," he said, barely glancing up from his tablet.
Sakura's hands clenched slightly around her notebook, but she forced herself to remain calm. "I'm here to learn your expectations and meet them," she replied evenly.
His dark eyes flicked up, assessing her like she was a problem he needed to solve. Or eliminate.
"My expectations are high," he said.
"Good," she replied. "That's what I anticipated."
The moment she stepped out of his office, her calm façade cracked. Her heart was pounding, and she had to grip the edge of her desk to steady herself.
Okay, Haruno, she thought, inhaling deeply. You survived round one. Now comes the hard part.
When Sasuke handed her his double-booked schedule and demanded prioritization in ten minutes, Sakura had panicked.
Nine minutes later, she'd managed to pull it off—but only after sprinting to Suigetsu from CRM and begging for a quick rundown of which clients were the most critical. Suigetsu had given her a skeptical look but rattled off the necessary information. She'd barely made it back to her desk in time to email Sasuke the revised schedule, praying she hadn't made any glaring mistakes.
When Sasuke challenged her decisions, she thought for sure she'd be fired. But she forced herself to explain her reasoning calmly, hoping her logic would hold up under scrutiny.
It did. Somehow.
The Yokohama proposal revision was a nightmare. She had no idea how to navigate the company's shared drive, so she'd spent ten precious minutes Googling tutorials on file management systems. When she finally located the reports she needed, she realized she didn't understand half the legal jargon. A quick detour to Jūgo's office solved that problem—he'd patiently clarified the terminology, though he'd raised an eyebrow at her lack of familiarity.
When Sasuke reviewed the revised proposal, he gave a curt nod. No feedback, no complaints.
Sakura exhaled slowly, relieved but exhausted.
By the time the Hyuga representative called, Sakura was running on sheer adrenaline. She'd barely skimmed the lease agreement before answering the phone, relying on quick thinking and improvisation to handle their concerns. When she hung up, she slumped in her chair, her nerves frayed but intact.
Sasuke didn't say much to her for the rest of the day, which she took as a small victory. He hadn't fired her yet.
As she typed up notes for the next day, she thought back over everything she'd done. To Sasuke, it probably looked smooth, professional, effortless.
In reality, it had been anything but.
Still, she'd made it. Day one was done.
Now, she just had to do it all over again.
By the time Sakura arrived at the small park near her apartment, Ino was already there, perched on a bench with a convenience store bag at her side and her legs crossed elegantly like she wasn't sitting in a public space scarfing down rice balls.
"Late on your first day?" Ino teased, holding up a triangular onigiri as Sakura approached.
"Don't even start," Sakura groaned, dropping onto the bench beside her. She tossed her bag onto the ground and slumped forward, her head in her hands. "I'm a walking disaster."
Ino tilted her head, her blue eyes gleaming with interest. "Ooh, bad first day? Spill."
Sakura glanced sideways at her. "Do you want to hear about my day, or do you want to hear yourself analyze it like some wannabe psychic?"
"Both," Ino said cheerfully, tearing open another rice ball. "C'mon, I'm a professional now. Doctor Yamanaka, at your service."
Sakura snorted, digging into the bag of food Ino had thoughtfully picked up for her. "You've been practicing for, like, five minutes."
"Five glorious minutes," Ino replied, brushing a speck of rice from her blazer. "I had a session with a new client today. Early twenties, crippling imposter syndrome. I had to stop myself from going full Oprah and telling her, 'You get validation! You get validation!'" She mimed throwing glitter into the air.
"You're ridiculous," Sakura said, laughing despite herself.
"Maybe, but I'm good at it," Ino said with a wink. "She walked out looking less like a deer in headlights and more like a deer mildly confused by a streetlamp. Progress, my friend. Progress."
"Good for you," Sakura said, popping open a bottle of tea and taking a long sip. "Meanwhile, I spent my first day being shredded into pieces by my boss."
"Wait, what?" Ino sat up straighter, her eyes narrowing. "Explain. And don't leave anything out. I want to analyze this in excruciating detail."
Sakura sighed, peeling the wrapper off her onigiri. "Okay, so first, imagine the most beautiful man you've ever seen."
"Done," Ino said immediately. "Continue."
Sakura rolled her eyes. "Now imagine that beautiful man has the personality of a malfunctioning robot that's also kind of a jerk."
"Yikes. That bad?"
"That bad." Sakura took a bite, chewing thoughtfully before continuing. "Sasuke Uchiha—yes, that Uchiha—looks like he walked out of a designer catalog, but he's impossible. He basically told me my résumé was garbage within five minutes of meeting me. Then he handed me his double-booked schedule and told me to fix it. In ten minutes."
Ino winced. "Oof."
"And don't get me started on the rest of the day," Sakura said, gesturing with her onigiri. "Construction proposals, schedules, tenant issues—it was like getting thrown into a storm with nothing but a paper umbrella."
"Did you cry in the bathroom at least once?" Ino asked, a teasing lilt in her voice.
"I didn't cry," Sakura said firmly. "But only because I didn't have time. I was Googling half the things he asked me to do while running across the office trying to find people who could help."
Ino gave her a sly grin. "And you still pulled it off, didn't you?"
"Barely," Sakura admitted. "But he was unimpressed. Completely stone-faced. Like I didn't just perform an administrative miracle."
"That's a win," Ino said, nudging her with an elbow. "He didn't fire you, did he?"
"Not yet," Sakura muttered, though her lips quirked up slightly.
Ino gave her a knowing look. "You'll be fine. You've got grit. More than anyone I know."
Sakura glanced at her friend, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "Thanks."
"Anytime." Ino leaned back, folding her arms behind her head. "And if he gets too unbearable, just tell him his aura's out of alignment. That always throws people off."
"Noted," Sakura said, laughing.
By the time Sakura got back to her tiny apartment, she felt lighter. Dinner with Ino had been exactly what she needed—a reminder that even when the day seemed impossible, she had people in her corner.
She set her bag down, stretched, and gave herself a pep talk in the mirror.
"You survived day one," she told her reflection. "You can survive tomorrow too."
And with that, she climbed into bed, ready to tackle whatever Sasuke Uchiha threw at her next.
tbc
no, i do not want to make this visual - stop sending me spammy messages.
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