CHAPTER 4

Sakura Haruno sat cross-legged on the floor of her tiny, cluttered apartment, leafing through the latest issue of a medical journal. The low hum of the city outside her window was a distant comfort, but inside, her world was a quiet space of herbs, books, and scattered papers. The small, sunlit room was a reflection of her life—modest but full of meaning. Shelves lined the walls, packed with a curious blend of genres: political science texts from her university days, medical and nutrition books she referred to for work, and a few well-loved fiction novels, their spines bent from countless re-readings.

Her work as a nutritionist was steady. It wasn't glamorous, but she liked it. Every day from nine to five, she met with patients, helping them tailor their diets for better health. Sometimes, she worked in a private clinic, and other times, she partnered with local hospitals for consults. It wasn't the dream career she'd once imagined for herself, but it paid the bills, and there was something deeply satisfying about seeing her patients improve their lives. Plus, it was nice to have a steady paycheck at the end of each month—a small comfort in the grand scheme of things.

When she wasn't working, Sakura enjoyed experimenting with nature's offerings—making healing concoctions from herbs she'd read about in old medical texts. Her apartment was filled with tiny glass bottles and dried plants, their scents mingling in the air. Today, she was trying out a new blend, something to help promote relaxation. But her mind kept wandering, drifting back to the strangeness of the world outside her cozy home.

As she carefully poured a few drops of lavender oil into a small bottle, there was a sudden knock at the door. Sakura flinched, nearly spilling the oil. Visitors weren't exactly common, especially unannounced ones.

Setting the bottle aside, she wiped her hands on her apron and made her way to the door. When she opened it, a man in a pressed suit stood before her, his expression formal and serious. In his hand, he held an envelope stamped with the royal insignia.

"Miss Haruno?" he asked, his tone professional. Sakura nodded, confused and slightly on edge.

"I'm here on behalf of the Royal Council," he continued, holding out the envelope. "You've been selected as one of the final candidates in the Queen's raffle. Congratulations."

Sakura's heart stopped. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of the words. Final candidate?

The man stood patiently as she slowly took the envelope from him, her hands trembling. "There must be some mistake," she murmured, but the man simply tipped his hat and turned to leave.

The door clicked shut, leaving Sakura standing in the middle of her apartment, staring down at the envelope in her hands. The royal insignia glared back at her, cold and unmistakable.

"This can't be happening," she whispered to herself, sinking onto the couch. She dropped the envelope on the coffee table, as if touching it too long might burn her.

For a moment, she just sat there, staring at it. Her nine-to-five life as a nutritionist had been fine. Predictable. She didn't want anything more. Becoming the queen? It wasn't just far-fetched—it was absurd. She loved the quiet simplicity of her life, her job, and her little herbal experiments in her apartment. Being thrust into the spotlight was a nightmare she hadn't even thought to fear.

As the panic started to rise in her chest, she reached for her phone and quickly dialed the only person she could think of—Ino.

"Ino, I—I need to talk to you," Sakura stammered as soon as Ino picked up, her voice barely holding back the flood of panic.

"Sakura?" Ino's voice was bright and cheerful on the other end, completely unaware of the storm brewing. "What's going on?"

"I made it to the final round of the queen's raffle." The words tumbled out before she could stop them.

The line went silent for a moment. Then Ino's voice broke through, high-pitched and incredulous. "Wait. What ?"

"I know!" Sakura groaned, pacing her apartment, glancing back at the unopened envelope on the table as if it were a ticking bomb. "I mean, we entered as a joke, right? I thought I'd get eliminated in the first round, but now I'm apparently one of the final candidates!"

Ino's reaction wasn't what Sakura had expected. "Wow, Sakura, that's… amazing. You're one step away from being queen!"

Sakura stopped pacing, her heart still racing. "Ino, I don't want to be queen. I never did. I only signed up because you begged me to."

There was a pause on the other end, and when Ino spoke again, her voice was a little colder. "Yeah, well, it looks like the universe had other plans, huh?"

Sakura froze. "Ino, are you… upset?"

Ino let out a sharp breath. "I don't know, okay? I mean, I wanted this, Sakura. I've been dreaming about it. And now you—" She stopped, but the frustration in her voice was unmistakable. "You didn't even want it, and here you are, getting the one thing I've been hoping for."

Sakura's heart sank. "You know I didn't ask for this! I signed up because you were so excited about it, not because I thought I had a chance. I'm terrified , Ino. I don't want to be fucking queen. I don't even know what that means ."

Ino's voice was quieter now, but the hurt was still there. "It just feels like you got something I wanted so bad, and you didn't even care. It's hard, Sakura. I want to be happy for you, but I can't help feeling… left behind."

Sakura sank onto her couch, guilt gnawing at her. "I never wanted this, Ino. You know that. I'd trade places with you in a heartbeat if I could."

There was another pause, then Ino let out a long sigh. "I know. I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have snapped. It's not your fault, and I know you didn't plan for any of this to happen."

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their words settling between them. Eventually, Ino spoke again, her voice lighter. "Well, let's hope you don't make the final cut, right? Just show up for the ceremony and then get out of there."

Sakura smiled weakly, the tension between them finally easing - just barely, though. "Yeah. Let's hope."

Later that evening, Sakura sat at the kitchen table in her parents' house, the royal letter tucked away in her bag. The comforting smells of home filled the air, and her parents chatted as they moved about the kitchen, blissfully unaware of the bombshell she was about to drop.

Her mother placed a bowl of food in front of her, smiling. "So, how's work? Any interesting patients lately?"

Sakura bit her lip, feeling the letter burning a hole in her bag. She took a breath. "Actually… I made it to the final round of the Queen's Raffle," she blurted, the turmoil of feelings inside her tummy making her feel like she'd throw up soon.

Her mother froze, spoon halfway to her mouth, while her father turned slowly to face her, a look of shock etched across his features. "The Queen's Raffle? You ?"

Sakura nodded, trying to keep her voice steady. "Yeah. I didn't think it would happen, but here we are. I'm one of the final candidates."

Her mother blinked, then let out a breathless laugh. "Sakura, that's… unbelievable. I mean, you signed up for fun! How did this even happen?"

Her father shook his head, still processing. " You ? In the royal raffle?"

Sakura nodded, her throat tightening. "I didn't expect it either. I'm hoping it's just for show. I'll go to the ceremony, and they'll probably pick someone else."

Her parents exchanged wide-eyed glances. Her mother reached out, squeezing her hand gently. "Well, whatever happens, we're proud of you. But honestly… I hope they don't pick you. This royal stuff is so far from what we imagined - sounds like a lot of work"

Sakura let out a shaky laugh. What an easy way to capture what she couldn't even put into words - a lot of word. "Trust me," she said tremulously, "I feel the same."

Dinner that night did not sit well in her stomach.

The grand courtyard of the palace had been transformed into a stage fit for royalty. The press had set up their cameras at every angle, broadcasting the event live across Nippon Koku. Rows of velvet ropes lined the perimeter, and an enormous crowd had gathered, buzzing with excitement. The candidates stood in neat lines, waiting, their names in a bowl ready to be drawn one last time. Every face in the crowd, every camera flash, every cheer—it all felt like a dream, a surreal blur that Sakura was trapped inside.

She was in the final round. The final round of the Queen's fucking Raffle.

How did this even happen?

Sakura's heart pounded in her chest as she stood among the other remaining candidates, trying to make sense of her place here. She'd gone through the vetting process like everyone else, but she had always thought of herself as an outsider—a background figure. And now, she was standing on a stage, being paraded in front of the kingdom, with the possibility of becoming queen . She could barely process it. Nervously, she fdgetted with the hem of her best dress, feeling inadequate as the rest of her peers on stage preened in beautiful outfits, perfectly made updos and smiles that seemed designed to enchant. Her face felt like it had been injected with botox and she feared the kind of smile she was giving out might be freaking people out. She took shallow breaths, afraid of being too open, hoping that this thing would end soon so she could go back home and sleep for three whole days and leave this nightmare where it belonged - in the past.

Behind her, she could sense the presence of the media, their cameras fixed on the stage, their lenses zoomed in on every flicker of emotion. The energy in the courtyard was palpable. In front of the stage sat a sea of spectators, among them her parents, Mebuki and Kizashi, who had somehow managed to find a spot in the front row. Their faces were a mix of pride and disbelief.

Ino was also there, seated not too far from her parents, her usual confidence and brightness tempered by the weight of the moment. Ino had tried to put on a brave face for her, but both of them had discussed this possibility—had rationalized it, really. They'd convinced themselves that if Sakura made it this far, it wasn't because she had truly won, but because of the spectacle her selection could create. Publicity , they had called it. Sakura had even suggested that they might have picked her out of mockery for her comments during the political interview.

She'd told them that the entire raffle was a strategic move by the monarchy, a way to manipulate public sentiment. Maybe this was their way of proving her wrong, of dragging her into the spotlight as if to say, See, you didn't know everything after all.

"I think they picked me out of spite - to make an example out of me," Sakura had muttered to Ino earlier, pacing nervously in her apartment. "I called them out for using this raffle as a publicity stunt. What if they're choosing me just to show me that they're not ?"

Ino had thought about it for a moment before shrugging. "It's possible. But that doesn't mean they're serious about making you queen. Maybe you're just here for the show, and then they'll pick someone else at the last minute. A placeholder, you know?"

Sakura had clung to that logic—had needed to. After all, how could she actually be the queen? There were so many more suitable candidates, women who had the grace and upbringing to step into such a role. She had convinced herself that she was only here as part of some grand plan to save face. Once the real winner was chosen, she'd go back to her life, her nine-to-five job with its steady paycheck and manageable chaos. She liked her life as it was. The thought of trading it in for the pressure of something completely unknown and unforeseen made her sick to her stomach.

She scanned the crowd again, searching for something to anchor her as the final names were being prepared to be drawn. Her parents sat together, Kizashi with his arm around Mebuki, both of them looking utterly dumbfounded by the spectacle. She'd told them earlier in the week that she didn't expect anything to come of it, that they shouldn't get their hopes up. But now, seeing the awe and worry on their faces, Sakura realized that they were just as overwhelmed as she was.

I'm not going to be chosen. They wouldn't actually pick me, she repeated in her mind, trying to calm the rising tide of panic. She wasn't queen material. She wasn't like the other women standing beside her, polished and poised. She was just Sakura, with her herbal remedies and her books about nutrition, her simple, quiet life that she didn't want to give up.

But then, there was Sasuke Uchiha.

She hadn't seen him at first, hidden in the shadows near the stage, watching the proceedings with that same impassive expression she'd seen in countless photos. His Royal Highness, His Mahesty, the cold and distant prince, now king. She had no idea what he thought of her—or any of the other candidates, for that matter. In truth, she didn't know much about him at all, except for the rare glimpses of his life that the media allowed.

When she was younger, she remembered the frenzy surrounding him—how tabloids had speculated about his personal life, how he was a mystery that no one could quite unravel. There had been rumors, once, that he might even be gay, and she had laughed about it with Ino at the time, half-jokingly mourning the loss of another "pretty boy" from the pool of eligible bachelors. But beyond that, Sasuke had always been a figure wrapped in layers of distance. Even now, standing just a few meters away, he felt more like a myth than a man.

Sakura had spent nights poring over old articles and gossip columns about him, doing late-night searches on her phone, trying to piece together the enigma that was their new king. She'd asked Ino what she knew, though Ino's knowledge was mostly superficial. There wasn't much to find—he was notoriously private, with little about his personal views or true character making its way to the public. And yet, here she was, standing on the verge of becoming his queen.

Did she want this? she asked herself for the thousandth time. The answer was complicated. Part of her recoiled at the thought of losing her freedom, of stepping into a role she felt woefully unprepared for. But another part—the tiny, quiet voice she barely acknowledged—wondered if there was something more. Could she stand beside Sasuke, this man she knew so little about, and make a difference?

The announcer's voice broke through her thoughts, clear and booming as he reached into the bowl for the final name. The air was thick with anticipation. Each name that wasn't hers left Sakura more and more convinced that she had been right—she was only here as a placeholder, someone to add to the spectacle before the real queen was chosen.

But then, the announcer unfolded the final slip of paper, his voice ringing through the courtyard - called out the final name; her name..

"Sakura Haruno."

The world stopped.

Sakura's heart felt like it had leapt into her throat. The crowd erupted into applause, but it all sounded muffled, distant. She blinked, trying to process the words, but her mind refused to catch up. Her name. Her name had been called. How could this be real?

In the front row, she saw her parents, their faces frozen in disbelief. Her mother's hand was clasped over her mouth, while her father just stared, wide-eyed. Ino, sitting not far from them, gave her a strained smile, her eyes betraying the same shock Sakura felt in her own chest.

Sakura couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Her gaze, instinctively, found Sasuke in the shadows near the stage. Their eyes locked for the briefest moment, and everything else seemed to fade. His face was unreadable, his expression as cold and stoic as ever, but his eyes—dark and intense—held her there, frozen in place.

For a second, she wondered what he was thinking. Was this all part of his plan? Had he seen her coming from the start, or was she as much a surprise to him as she was to herself? Whatever the truth, there was no denying the weight of this moment. She had been chosen. This was no mockery. This was no placeholder.

They picked me.

Her life, as she knew it, was about to change forever. And standing there, with Sasuke's eyes on hers and the world watching, Sakura realized that fate had little to do with it.

tbc

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