CHAPTER 2

The announcement of the royal raffle swept across Nippon Koku like wildfire. Billboards of His Lordship's face dominated the city skylines—his sharp, brooding features becoming a symbol of hope, intrigue, and newfound admiration. The once distant and cold king was now plastered across social media, magazine covers, and public spaces, his silent, broody image drawing in the attention of women from every corner of the kingdom. His image had been mysteriously protrayed, and now, as the raffle approached, the women of Nippon Koku buzzed with anticipation.

The streets were filled with chatter, and in every café, market, and gathering place, the same conversation played out: Who would be the lucky commoner to marry the king? The royal publicists had sold the idea perfectly. What was once seen as an outlandish spectacle had now turned into a beacon of opportunity, a chance for the people to feel closer to their monarchy. The vetting process was designed to be seamless, easily accessible to the public, and structured to make everyone feel like they had a shot at destiny—though in truth, the palace maintained tight control over every detail behind the scenes.

And no one was more excited than Ino Yamanaka.

"I know I'm going to nail this!" Ino declared, her voice bright with confidence as she glanced over the crowd of eager women gathered outside the government building where the initial vetting was taking place. "I mean, come on, who else stands a chance?" She flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder, grinning as she admired the billboards of Sasuke looming overhead. "I'm practically royal already."

Sakura Haruno, standing beside her, crossed her arms and gave her best friend a dry look. "You're being ridiculous, you know that?"

Ino rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh please, Sakura, where's your sense of fun? You're going to go through the process anyway—you might as well try to enjoy it!"

Sakura sighed, looking up at the same billboard that had captured Ino's attention. His Majesty's face, stern and solemn, gazed back down at the public. To her, it was just another reminder of how detached the monarchy felt from people like her, though she had been a huge fan of Sasuke's predecessor. It was a sad thought to behold that this entire folly was taking place to deviate from Itachi's illness - it left a bad taste in her mouth. But today, she wasn't here because she believed in some fairy tale of becoming queen. No, she was here because Ino had practically dragged her out of bed that morning.

"I just don't see the point," Sakura muttered, shoving her hands into her pockets. "It's a spectacle, Ino. They've already decided who's going to win, and it's not going to be me or you."

Ino huffed. "You are such a pessimist! This is exciting! Imagine if one of us wins—your whole life would change overnight. I mean, you're smart, you're beautiful—"

"—and completely disinterested in this circus," Sakura finished with a half-hearted smile. "Besides, I've got other things on my mind."

Ino raised a brow. "Like what? Same old boring job, same old clients? Psh, come on! Live a little!"

Sakura bit her lip, not liking the fact that Ino's words had hit home. It wasn't that she hated her job. Nutrition was important, and she'd done well in her studies—she even had a minor in political sciences, where she and Ino had met, competing fiercely for the best grades. But deep down, she knew something was missing. Her real passion was medicine, but now, at 27, she felt like she'd missed the boat. She didn't have the courage to chase after it.

"Yeah," she said quietly, "like that."

Ino softened her voice. "Forehead, you know you could still go for it, right? Medicine isn't off the table."

Sakura shook her head, dismissing the thought. "I'm too old, Ino. You don't just pivot into medicine at my age. Besides, I've got a decent job—why throw it away on some pipe dream?"

Ino frowned but didn't push the subject. Instead, she looped her arm through Sakura's and dragged her forward. "Well, you're here now, so you might as well see it through. Who knows? Maybe you'll be the dark horse in this race."

Sakura chuckled despite herself. "Yeah, sure. A commoner queen with a degree in nutrition. Sounds perfect."

The vetting process had been rigorous and relentless, but now, it was reaching its most crucial stage: the political interview. Sakura sat in a room with three other participants, each of them visibly nervous as they waited for their turn. The atmosphere was tense, the air thick with anticipation, but Sakura's feelings were a mix of exhaustion and annoyance. She hadn't come here to win—she wasn't even sure why she was still going through with it, except that Ino had dragged her this far.

Some prissy looking dude called Neji Hyūga sat at the head of the panel, alongside several other palace officials. They exuded an air of quiet authority, all watching the participants with discerning eyes. Neji's gaze swept over the group as he read from a list of questions. He had been tasked with overseeing this part of the vetting, and his sharp, aristocratic features made it clear that he wasn't here to entertain half-hearted answers.

The first woman, a tall brunette who Sakura had noticed had spent most of the day smiling nervously, was called forward. Neji asked, "What do you believe is the role of the monarchy in a modern constitutional system?"

The woman smiled too widely, clearly rehearsing the lines in her head. "Well, the monarchy should provide… uh, stability. It's a symbol of tradition, you know? Of history, something the people can look up to."

One of the other officials raised an eyebrow. "And how does that translate to governance?" he pressed.

The woman stammered. "Um, by… by ensuring that the people are united behind their king?"

Sakura winced inwardly, not being able to help her inner critique take over. That answer was vague, superficial. She was floundering, and it was obvious she hadn't thought much beyond the romanticized notion of becoming the next queen.

Next was a petite redhead. She was asked, "What steps should Nippon Koku take to strengthen its global standing in international trade?"

She hesitated before blurting, "Increase exports?"

Another official, an older man with greying hair, leaned forward, unimpressed. "And how do you propose we do that, when competition from other major powers is already affecting our trade routes?"

The redhead fumbled. "Um, well, maybe… by investing in more technology? Or lowering tariffs on certain goods?"

The panel exchanged glances. It was clear the woman didn't have a deeper understanding of the complexities involved. She had memorized a few buzzwords but had no substance behind her responses. Sakura thought about how she might answer this question and started collecting all the thoughts bouncing off the top of her head on the single sheet of paper all participants in the room had been provided with; she jotted down diversification of trade partnerships and modernizing trade infrastructures and logistics, clawing on her Poly-Science classes back from college. She couldn't concentrate log, because the next woman was asked another question entirely.

"What are your thoughts on cultural and trade diplomacy?"

Sakura watched the other woman crumble under the weight of her nerves. Like her predecessors, she was floundering, offering shallow answers that lacked depth or understanding. Most of them likely hadn't thought much about governance beyond what they'd skimmed in headlines. Neji Hyūga's face betrayed no emotion as he listened, but his growing disinterest was clear. His sharp, watchful gaze passed over the room, and when he finally called Sakura forward, she felt the weight of that gaze land squarely on her.

Taking a deep breath, she rose and walked to the front of the room. At this point, there wasn't even any tension in the room - they were clearly expecting her to be just as incompetent and lackluster with her answers as the rest of them - good for them, she thought, assessing them one by one. Neji's expression was unreadable, his cold, calculating eyes assessing her before he spoke.

"Miss Haruno," he began, his voice sharp and measured, "in your opinion, what is the greatest challenge facing Nippon Koku's monarchy in the context of its global standing?"

Sakura's pulse quickened. This was her chance. She had spent the entire day frustrated—frustrated with the process, with the spectacle of it all, with the way the monarchy seemed out of touch with its people. She wasn't here to impress anyone, but she also wasn't going to let this moment pass without making her voice heard. Plus, she wanted a tiny little revenge on behalf of her peers in the room, who'd been told they were just following the rounds to submit their names into a raffle, not at all prepared to be grilled about governance, strategy, and trade.

"The greatest challenge facing the monarchy isn't external," she began, her voice steady but firm, filled with the conviction that had been simmering beneath the surface all day. "It's internal. You've spent so much time controlling the people, shaping the narrative, that you've lost sight of how to connect with them. Leadership isn't just about power—it's about trust. And right now, the people don't trust you."

The silence in the room was thick. The other women glanced at one another, surprised by the boldness of her statement. The entire panel was looking at her, almost agape - Hyuuga's unnervingly white gaze remained locked on her, but there was a flicker of interest in his eyes.

Sakura pressed on, her voice growing more passionate as she continued. "This raffle? It's a band-aid solution. Sure, it'll generate excitement, get people talking, but it's not going to fix the real problem. The people aren't stupid. They've been distanced from the monarchy for too long. What they want is transparency—substance, not spectacle. They want to be heard, not managed." Most of us barely know anything of what happened to Itachi - about how he's doing now. Not this farce, she wanted to say, but held back, thinking she might ruffle too many feathers with that statement.

Neji leaned back slightly in his chair, his fingers steepled. He remained calm, but there was no mistaking the challenge in his next question. "If transparency is what the people want, how do you suggest we balance that with the need for stability and control? The monarchy cannot operate without a measure of authority. How would you reconcile those two?"

Sakura didn't falter. "It's not about choosing one or the other. Authority and transparency aren't mutually exclusive. You build trust through honesty. Own the challenges the monarchy faces—both domestically and internationally. Let the people in. Hold open forums, town halls, and give the public a real voice. Let them see that the monarchy isn't just a distant institution behind gilded walls, but something that's actively working alongside them. People want to believe in their leadership, but right now, all they see is a king who they barely know, and a system that feels out of reach."

A graying old man named Kakuzo raised an eyebrow, clearly testing her further. "You speak of engaging with the people directly. What role, then, does the monarchy play in governance if you're advocating for such a level of public involvement? Where do you draw the line?"

Sakura met his gaze evenly. "The monarchy's role is to lead, but leadership doesn't mean shutting out the voices of those you're leading. Governance should be collaborative, especially in a system like ours where parliament exists. The people elect their representatives, but the monarchy must be the bridge between those representatives and the long-term vision of the state. You guide, but you don't isolate. If the monarchy listens and incorporates the voices of the people through their elected officials, it will strengthen both your authority and their trust in the institution."

There was a brief silence as her words sank in. One of the other officials, aother stern-faced man with greying hair, leaned forward slightly, intrigued. "And what do you believe is the most immediate step the monarchy should take to restore that trust?"

Sakura didn't hesitate. "Honesty. Stop pretending everything is perfect. Acknowledge the struggles the kingdom faces. Be open about the difficulties with international trade, with balancing tradition and modernity, with governance - with everything that has happened with His Highness, Itachi-sama. People don't need you to be infallible—they need you to be real. Transparency, communication, and consistent engagement are the first steps to restoring that trust."

For the first time, Neji's expression changed—a subtle shift, a glint of something like approval in his eyes. He leaned forward slightly, his voice quiet but pointed. "You speak with conviction, Miss Haruno. But do you believe this is enough? Will these ideals hold in the face of political reality?"

Sakura stood tall, her voice unwavering. "I don't believe they're just ideals. I believe they're necessary. Politics without connection is just control. If the monarchy can't evolve with the people, it will become obsolete. The world is watching, and Nippon Koku needs to show that it's not just clinging to old traditions, but leading with purpose, with transparency, and with the people at its heart."

Neji didn't speak for a moment, his eyes never leaving hers. The room was utterly still, and Sakura could feel the weight of the silence pressing down on her. She had spoken her truth, and she had no idea how it would be received. But she had made her point.

Finally, Neji nodded, a small, almost imperceptible gesture of acknowledgment. The rest of the panel watched her with varying degrees of disapproval. "Thank you, Miss Haruno," she was told quietly. "You may return to your seat."

As Sakura walked back to her place among the other participants, she could feel their eyes on her, but she didn't care. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, adrenaline coursing through her veins, but there was a quiet satisfaction there too. She had said what she needed to say, and whether they liked it or not, she had made them listen.

In the shadows of the room, hidden from view, Sasuke stood with his arms crossed. He had been silently observing the entire interview process, watching carefully as each participant faltered under the pressure. But now, his dark eyes were fixed on Sakura, the words she had spoken replaying in his mind.

Sasuke reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small notebook. With quick, precise movements, he jotted down a few of her key points—her emphasis on transparency, engagement, and the need to balance authority with public trust. These were not the words of someone simply trying to win favor; they were the thoughts of someone who understood the deeper issues facing the monarchy.

As he closed the notebook and tucked it away, Sasuke's expression remained unreadable, but in his mind, a decision had already begun to form. Later, he would bring these ideas to the council and parliament, framing them as his own insights. But for now, one thing was clear.

Sakura Haruno had made an impression—one that he would not soon forget.

By the time Sakura reached the final stage—a psychological evaluation—she was utterly exhausted. The day had been a whirlwind of tests, interviews, and evaluations, each one more invasive and draining than the last. The morning had started with a full medical exam, including everything from blood tests to an uncomfortable vaginal exam that still made her squirm when she thought about it.

Sitting across from the psychologist, her patience had worn thin. Her answers were curt, laced with irritation, and by the end of the session, she barely had the energy to fake politeness.

When she finally stumbled out of the room, she found Ino waiting for her, grinning as if this entire ordeal had been a casual shopping trip. "How'd it go?"

Sakura shot her a deathly glare. "I want to strangle you."

Ino laughed, unfazed, and threw an arm around Sakura's shoulders. "See? I told you it would be fun!"

"Fun is not the word I'd use for today," Sakura grumbled, her body aching from head to toe. "I hope I forget today ever happened."

As they walked away, Sakura couldn't help but feel a gnawing sense of unease—because a small part of her suspected fate might have other plans.

tbc