Chapter Text

Prologue

Sometimes I wonder if happiness is just a brief pause between chaos.

A breath.

A moment of stillness that never lasts.

Chapter 1

I spent the last three years pretending everything was okay. Smiling when my boss insulted me, nodding when co-workers whispered behind my back. Telling myself I was lucky to have a job, even as I broke down quietly every night.

But now... it’s done.

Sakura exhaled slowly, a shaky breath that felt like her first real one in years. Her finger hovered for a moment before finally tapping “Send” on the email.

Subject: Resignation Letter

It was over. She was free.

She let herself collapse onto her twin-sized bed in her modest apartment, her heart pounding, but not from anxiety—for once, it was relief.

“I actually did it,” she whispered to herself, a half-laugh escaping her lips.

The silence of her apartment wrapped around her like a warm blanket. She stretched out, hair splaying across the pillow as her favorite Taylor Swift song played softly in the background. The weight of the toxic workplace—the slander, manipulation, the narcissistic boss who used kindness as a weapon—finally began to lift off her chest.

She smiled.

Then—ding.

Her phone screen lit up. A notification from the credit card app.

"Monthly installment for your designer bag is due. Total: ¥87,000."

Her smile dropped. “What the—oh, crap.”

That pink Gucci bag.

The one she bought impulsively after her bonus, telling herself she deserved it, that it was different from all the other pink things she owned.

Because that’s what people called her—Pink Girl.

It wasn’t just because of her hair—she’d been born with pink hair. But somehow, pink had always followed her everywhere: a pink phone case, pink helmets from her days delivering food as a part-timer, pink sneakers, a pink water bottle, pink stationery, pink lipstick shades, even the pair of pink Hello Kitty socks she was wearing now to warm her toes. She even had a pink toaster sitting in her tiny kitchen.

Pink had simply become a part of her—whether she meant for it to or not.

Sakura sat up in bed, hugging her knees. “I really need another job. Fast.”

The phone buzzed again. This time, her mom.

She groaned but picked it up. “Hi, Mom.”

"Sakura! You just got home from work?" her mother asked cheerfully.

Sakura hesitated, eyes darting to the resignation email still open on her laptop. “Yeah… Just got back. Long day.”

"Poor girl, working so hard! Listen, your grandma and cousin Kurenai are visiting this week from Kobe. You should come by! Mirai really misses you."

Her heart tugged at the mention of Mirai, Kurenai’s daughter. Sakura adored that kid—she was like the little sister she never had.

“I wish I could, Mom. But I’m swamped. My boss has me working on so many projects... I don’t even get proper breaks anymore,” she lied smoothly.

"Oh no! Still? That company of yours is crazy. Well, if you can’t come, at least send Mirai a birthday gift, okay? She’s been asking about you every day!"

Sakura nodded, even though her mother couldn’t see her. “Of course. I’ll send her something special.”

Then came the part she dreaded.

"Also, Kurenai says she knows a young dentist. Handsome, responsible. She thought maybe you two could—"

“Mom.” Sakura cut her off. “We’ve talked about this.”

"You’re not getting any younger, sweetie. You’ll be 30 before you know it!"

Sakura closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Bye, Mom.”

She hung up and let the phone fall onto the bed beside her.

“Great. Now I’m single, jobless, and about to disappoint my entire family.”

She sighed and lay back down, pulling the blanket over her face. The glow from her phone teased her again.

On impulse, she downloaded Tinder. “Ugh, why not.”

She swiped through profile after profile lazily—guys holding fish, guys with suspiciously cropped ex-girlfriends, gym selfies, shirtless bathroom pics.

“This is so dumb,” she muttered, tossing the phone aside. “Scammers, cheaters, and catfish—who even finds real love here?”

She turned off the bedside lamp and wrapped herself tighter in the blanket.

“I’m never gonna meet the right guy, am I…”

Then she dreamed…

She wasn’t in her room anymore.

She was wearing a high school uniform.

“What the hell?” Sakura blinked, confused. The world around her shimmered like a VHS tape on rewind.

Suddenly, she was kneeling on the ground.

She looked down—there was ice cream on a pair of polished designer shoes.

“Wipe it!” a chorus of teenage voices jeered from somewhere above.

Her heart pounded. She looked up.

There he was.

That same face. Pale, striking, with jet-black hair and onyx eyes that looked straight through her.

Sasuke.

Behind him stood his usual crew: the red-haired girl with sunglasses practically glued to him, the smug boy with silver hair and a lazy smirk, and the Frankenstein-sized one who stared blankly.

“Do what you have to,” Sasuke said coldly.

Sakura’s blood boiled.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pink handkerchief—grandma’s gift, hand-sewn. With trembling hands, she began to wipe the edge of his shoe.

Wait.

She stopped.

“NOPE.”

She stood up. Then, without thinking, she yanked his leg, sending him toppling backward.

“Whoa—!”

His friends caught him just in time.

Gasps and boos erupted around her.

Sakura threw the handkerchief at his face.

“Clean your own damn shoes, you donkey booger!”

Laughter. Outrage. Chaos.

“I’m a 28-year-old independent woman, and I’m not afraid of some teenage prince wannabe!” she shouted, arms raised.

“And for the record, I almost did break your leg. Be grateful I didn’t!”

She stomped off, fuming, as the world swirled like a watercolor painting behind her.

Reality Again

Her alarm blared.

Sakura shot up in bed, drenched in cold sweat. It was 11 a.m.

“Crap. I forgot to feed Poppy.”

She scrambled out of bed in her bra and underwear, tugged on a T-shirt and shorts, slipped into house slippers, and darted to the kitchen.

Her tiny white poodle barked impatiently, spinning in frantic circles.

“I’m so sorry, Poppy! Mommy had a nightmare about that stupid guy who used to bully me at high school.”

The dog yapped again.

Sakura poured food into the bowl, then sat on the floor beside her furry companion, heart still racing.

“…Was that really just a dream?”

Because somehow, it felt like something had just… started.

- To Be Continued -

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

After a quick shower, Sakura emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her hair. She plopped onto the worn-out sofa in her tiny living room and poured a bowl of cereal, eating absentmindedly while scrolling through job listings on her phone.

Poppy, her cream-colored toy poodle, barked at the door with growing urgency.

“What is it now, Poppy?” Sakura muttered between chews, still scrolling. Her screen showed nothing but “Entry-level positions… Must have 5 years experience… Minimum GPA 3.9… Bilingual in five languages…”

Ding-dong.

The doorbell rang.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” she called out hoarsely. Her voice still raspy from sleep, she shuffled to the door and opened it.

A mailman stood there, slightly startled by her dishevelled appearance.

“Mail for Haruno Sakura,” he said, handing over a small stack.

“Thanks,” she said, grabbing them.

Her eyes scanned the envelopes. Electricity bill. Internet bill. Credit card bill. Apartment rent due in one week.

“Oh fuck—Jesus Christ,” she cursed under her breath, accidentally out loud.

The mailman blinked in surprise.

“Sorry, just woke up!” she added with a forced smile, closing the door as quickly as politeness would allow.

She backed into the kitchen counter, her breath hitching. The paper in her hands suddenly felt like bricks. The nausea started first, then the dizziness. Her pulse quickened. Palms turned clammy.

Poppy barked loudly, circling her feet like a siren.

“It’s okay. It’s fine. It’s… not fine,” Sakura mumbled, her voice cracking. “I need a job. ASAP.”

She poured herself a glass of water, gripping the counter until her hands stopped shaking. Slowly, she began to regulate her breath. She crouched down beside Poppy, who had dropped her favorite yellow duck toy at Sakura’s feet.

“You’re a genius, Poppy,” Sakura whispered with a weak smile, rubbing her little face.

Suddenly inspired, she lunged for her phone and found an old contact.

Naruto Uzumaki. Her childhood friend. They hadn’t talked in years.

She typed out a long message:

"Hi Naruto, this is Sakura. Long time no see! How have you been? Sorry to bother you, but do you still work at Newman Company? I’m currently looking for a job—particularly in PR. If you know of any openings, would you mind letting me know? I’d really appreciate it."

Sakura hovered over the "send" button.

Ugh, no. She couldn’t just text someone out of the blue asking for help like this. How pathetic. She deleted the message and chewed her lip.

But the pile of bills stared back at her from the counter, unbothered by her pride.

She looked at Poppy, who stared back at her with a weirdly understanding look.

“You’re right,” Sakura sighed. “What do I have to lose?”

She rewrote the message, this time adding a playful 😝 emoji to make it seem more casual—and hit send.

To distract herself, she turned on her laptop and started watching Love Actually. Poppy curled up at her feet with her yellow duck plushie.

Not five minutes later, her phone buzzed.

It was Naruto.

Hey Sakura! Long time no see! I thought you’d forgotten about me. Haha, good thing I never changed my number. About Newman—I’m not in HR, but I can ask around! I’m out of town for work right now, but I’ll check next week.

Then a second message popped up.

Also… I’m getting married next week!

Sakura choked on her cereal.

“Married?!”

Meanwhile, she was unemployed, broke, and freshly resigned from a toxic workplace, barely holding it together. Life really knew how to rub salt in the wound.

Another message arrived.

"Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier—I figured you weren’t interested in my life anymore. You never even accepted my friend request on SNS 😭

Anyway, say hi to Aunt Mebuki for me! I attached the wedding invite."

She clicked on the attachment.

There it was: Uzumaki Naruto & Hyuuga Hinata.

Sakura’s jaw dropped.

“Hinata?! The shy girl from high school?!”

She suddenly remembered that one summer night when the three of them had gone to the local festival together, watching fireworks explode over the river. Now here they were, getting married.

A smile tugged at her lips.

Hinata would look stunning in a white gown. And Naruto in a tux… kind of adorable.

Then—bam—the groom’s face in her mental image morphed into that arrogant, cold-eyed rich boy from her high school nightmare.

“Nope. Not this again,” Sakura groaned, shaking her head. “Get out of my brain, you smug prick.”

She snapped back to reality and typed a reply:

Wow! Congratsss, Naruto! I’m so proud of you. You have a great job and now you’re marrying a great woman! Wishing you a lifetime of happiness. Hope to see you soon.

She almost added “Please pray I get my life together,” but deleted that part.

He replied quickly:

Thanks! By the way, where do you live now? Can Hinata and I visit you sometime?

Sakura froze.

She glanced around her cramped apartment—the peeling wallpaper, the flickering light, the stacked Amazon boxes she still hadn’t recycled.

"Umm… I’m sort of living “nomadically” right now. Planning to move soon, so probably not a good time for visits lol 😅 "

Naruto replied again, “Nomad? What are you, a caveman? 😂 Also FOLLOW ME BACK YOU DORK. It’s been three years!”

Sakura laughed. “Fine, you idiot.”

She tossed the phone onto the sofa and slumped back down.

“Great. Now I need to find a dress for this damn wedding…”

She opened Instagram and finally checked her long-neglected friend requests. She took a grim sort of pleasure in blocking all the fake-smiling snake co-workers from her old office.

Then she gave in to temptation.

She checked Naruto’s feed.

Disneyland. Universal Studios. Bali. A luxury cruise in the Caribbean. Paris. London. Berlin. Perth.

Sakura’s heart sank.

She had never even left Japan.

She glanced over at the trophy shelf—debate competitions, academic writing awards, student leadership certificates—and felt a dull ache rise in her chest. None of it had led her anywhere. She had once dreamed of becoming an ambassador, or even a diplomat. But then Japan’s economy tanked just as she graduated, and jobs in foreign affairs disappeared like smoke. She had failed the national exams, been rejected by every fellowship, and ended up wasting three years in a toxic office that almost broke her.

Sakura leaned down and scooped Poppy into her arms.

“What do you say, Poppy? Walk time?”

The little poodle wagged her tail furiously in approval.

Sakura smiled. “Okay then. But first, let’s find your leash.”

- To Be Continued -

Chapter Text

Hello, my lovely readers,

I appreciate you all so much for reading my fictions. I just realized that since I’ve been uploading multiple fics in one day, the reach for this particular story has become stagnant. It no longer appears in the ‘updated chapter’ section, which may lead to less engagement and fewer new readers.

So, I’ve decided to delete many of the parts and update the fic weekly instead. It’s not because I care about statistics or engagement numbers—I truly don’t—but because I’ve worked so hard on this fic and its plot development for almost two years, and I genuinely believe this story deserves more love and attention.

When I first started, I wasn’t very familiar with how AO3 works, so I didn’t really know how to play the game.

For those of you who have already binge-read the fic up to Chapter 21, I want you to know how much I appreciate you, and I’m truly sorry for any inconvenience this may cause.

I’ll leave the first three chapters up for now, and I’ll continue with regular weekly updates moving forward.

Once again, thank you so much for your support.

Warm regards,
Felicia

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

That night, Sakura had the dream again.

It started the way it always did: suddenly, she was back in high school. She blinked, confused, as she found herself sitting at her old classroom desk, dressed once again in that stiff navy-and-white uniform she thought she'd never wear again.

“What the hell…” she muttered, looking around.

Everything was too vivid—the chalkboard, the posters peeling off the wall, even the dust particles floating in the late afternoon light. It was lunch break, and the classroom was empty. A strange, quiet hum filled the air.

Then—tap. Tap.

A harsh tap on her shoulder made her flinch.

She spun around. “Oh, you again?!”

There he was—him. That smug, arrogant prick from her past, standing tall with his arms crossed and that stupid smirk plastered across his too-handsome face.

“Of course it's you,” Sakura groaned.

Could this be her subconscious warning her about something bad about to happen?

"You're seriously sleeping during break?" he snapped in a cold, perfectly polished tone.

She scowled. “It’s my break. I’ll sleep if I want to! Who the hell put you in charge of my life?”

Sasuke cocked his head. “You should spend your breaks outside. The weather’s nice today.”

Sakura narrowed her eyes. “Well, I don’t want to be outside. Especially not with you.”

He smirked again, but this time, he covered his mouth—poorly. She could still hear the amused huff escaping his lips.

“What did I ever do to make you hate me so much?” he said, almost teasing.

“I’ll stop cursing you when you stop bothering me,” she snapped. “Leave me alone, Uchiha Sasuke!”

His brow twitched. “Wow. Full name? Bold of you to call me that out loud… deliveryman’s daughter,” he sneered.

He hadn’t meant to say it. Not really. There was something else in his voice—something Sakura couldn’t quite place.

“You camel dung of a human!” she barked, rising from her chair. “I’m out of here.”

But before she could storm off, Sasuke grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward the hallway. Sakura struggled, but he was too fast. Too determined.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Let go!”

Suddenly, the hallway dissolved around her, and in the blink of an eye—

She was standing on the baseball field.

Helmet on her head. Bat in her hands.

“What the—?!”

A group of students in their gym uniforms stood around, watching gleefully.

“C’mon, loser! You’ll miss for sure!” someone shouted from the sidelines.

“Trash!” another chimed in.

Sakura clenched her jaw. “I hate all of you.”

From the crowd, a shrill voice called out, “Do your best, Sasuke-kun~!”

It was that red-haired girl with the glasses—Karin. She bounced up and down in her cheerleader pose, making no secret of her obsession with Sasuke.

Sakura’s eyes swept the crowd.

Naruto and Hinata stood in the back, watching her with worried expressions. Sweet, rich kids. The only two who ever treated her kindly. But even now, they couldn’t help her.

Because Sasuke had threatened them—rumor had it, he could get anyone expelled. His family was that close to the school director. No one dared to defy him.

“Look out, Sakura! Ball incoming!” yelled a silver-haired boy—Suigetsu—from the dugout, pointing.

She turned just in time to see Sasuke hurling the ball straight at her.

Panic shot through her body. She swung the bat in a blind, frantic motion.

CRACK!

No, wait. THUD.

She missed.

The momentum knocked her off balance, and she collapsed in a graceless heap onto the dirt.

Laughter erupted like thunder.

“She sucks!”

“BOO!”

“Sasuke’s the GOAT!” the girls squealed. Karin clapped enthusiastically, practically bouncing on her toes in excitement.

Sakura stayed on the ground, her cheeks burning. “Shit. Shit. Shit,” she hissed under her breath.

Just as she was about to stand up, a hand appeared in front of her.

Not Naruto.

Definitely not Naruto. He wouldn't dare.

She looked up.

It was Sasuke.

His hand was outstretched toward her, waiting.

Her eyes widened in disbelief.

“You think I’d accept your help after all that?” she snapped, slapping his hand away. “No way in hell.”

She stood up on her own, brushing the dirt from her knees, wincing at the scrapes.

“You bastard. Monster. Prick,” she spat as she limped away.

Sasuke’s expression didn’t change. Not at first.

But then—just before she turned fully away—she saw it.

A flicker. A shadow of something real in his eyes. Sadness? Regret?

Longing?

Sakura blinked.

Wait… what?

Suddenly, the dream shifted. It was like she wasn’t herself anymore—but instead, a camera, floating behind Sasuke. Watching him stare at her as she walked away.

Watching the way he bit his lip.

The way his shoulders slumped.

The way he whispered, “Why do you always run away from me?”

And just like that—Sakura jolted awake.

Her heart pounded like a drum. Sweat clung to her skin, and her sheets were tangled around her legs.

1:11 a.m.

Of course.

She stared at the ceiling, trying to calm her pulse.

That was the second lucid dream in a row. And about the same person. Why? Why him?

She hadn’t thought about Uchiha Sasuke in years. Not seriously. Sure, his name came up in jokes. A ghost from the past. But now he was haunting her dreams like some twisted prophecy.

Was this the universe warning her about something? Was her burnout triggering some kind of unresolved trauma?

She shook her head and grabbed her phone from the nightstand.

Fine. Just to get it out of her system, she searched: Uchiha Sasuke on Instagram.

There it was.

uchiha_sasuke97

Private account.

Profile picture? A photo taken from behind—him standing at the edge of a lake, staring out across a horizon that was definitely not Japan.

Just his back. His dark hair. That familiar silhouette.

“Geez,” Sakura whispered. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

She stared at the follow button.

Should I?

“Nope. No way,” she said aloud and tossed her phone into the nightstand drawer like it was cursed.

She pulled the blanket over her head and groaned.

“Please. Just let me have one dream where you don’t show up.”

And somehow, miraculously, she fell asleep.

That night, Sasuke didn’t return.

- To Be Continued -

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

The next few days of Sakura’s post-resignation life blurred into an uninspiring cycle of TikTok scrolling, impulsive snacking, and half-hearted job hunting. She’d apply to a couple of listings, then reward herself with three bags of potato chips and a marathon of “Love Island”— all while waiting for Naruto to send her information about any openings at Newman.

At some point, she stood in front of the mirror and frowned. Her skin looked dull. Her cheeks puffier. Her T-shirt — one with a giant Taylor Swift graphic on the back from the Reputation tour — now fit a little too snug around the midsection.

“This is not who I am,” she muttered to her reflection. “I’m not... unemployed potato-girl. Not yet.”

Poppy, her cream-colored toy poodle, tilted her head from the couch, as if agreeing.

Sakura sighed, tugged her hair into a messy bun, threw on shorts and the oversized hoodie, and clipped the leash onto Poppy’s collar. “We’re going outside,” she announced dramatically. “A walk. Fresh air. Mental stability.”

They headed toward the nearest park in lazy strides. The sun peeked through the clouds, and there was a warm breeze that smelled faintly like cinnamon waffles from a food truck nearby. It was... not bad.

Just as they were nearing the park gates, Poppy suddenly started barking uncontrollably toward a thick patch of bushes.

“Poppy! Stop! What are you doing?!” Sakura hissed, trying to tug the leash back. But her dog was frozen, hackles raised.

Curious and a little alarmed, Sakura crouched beside her. “Okay. Stay here. Mommy’s gonna check.” She crawled toward the bushes, brushing aside some leaves—

And there he was.

A black German Shepherd stood stiff among the brush, barking back at her with confusion and maybe a little fear in his amber eyes.

Sakura froze. “Hey... It’s okay,” she whispered. “You’re a good boy, right? It’s okay.”

He didn’t lunge, so she slowly reached into her hoodie pocket and pulled out a dog snack.

“Treat? You want a treat?”

The shepherd hesitated — then gently took it from her fingers, his tail giving a cautious wag.

“There you go,” she cooed, relieved. “You’re not a stray, are you? You’ve got that well-fed look.”

The dog barked once, softly, as if in response.

Sakura chuckled. “Right. Let’s get you outta here.”

She took hold of the loose leash still clipped to his collar and guided him back toward Poppy, who was still barking like she’d just witnessed her mother betray her.

“Poppy, calm down!” Sakura snapped.

Poppy growled in protest, completely ignoring Sakura’s scolding.

Sakura bribed her with another treat. “Be a good girl, okay? We’re just helping him find his owner.”

Poppy huffed but munched on the snack anyway.

With a sigh, Sakura resumed walking, leading both dogs toward the dog park. “This is what we get for trying to be a good person,” she muttered under her breath.

But just as they reached the gate, a voice behind her — deep and panicked — rang out:

“River!”

The shepherd’s ears perked. Then in a flash, he bolted.

“Wait— hold on!” Sakura shouted, trying to hold on to the leash — but it slipped through her fingers.

She sprinted after the dog, heart pounding. “Come back here!”

River darted straight toward the direction of the voice, and for a moment, Sakura thought she saw someone — a tall man — crouch and scoop the dog into his arms.

She skidded to a halt.

The man’s back was to her. He was tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a black long-sleeve shirt. His dark hair tousled perfectly like some kind of effortless shampoo commercial. She squinted, a weird sense of familiarity creeping in. Wait... Do I know him?

But just as she stepped forward, a group of joggers passed between them. She waited for them to clear—
And the man was gone. Just like that. Vanished.

“What the hell...?”

Sakura stood in stunned silence, blinking at the now-empty stretch of sidewalk.

Did I just imagine that?

A bark snapped her out of it.

“Poppy!” she gasped, realizing she’d left her own dog behind near the entrance.

She spun and raced back, heart in her throat.

There was Poppy, still exactly where she’d been — barking, anxious, but loyal.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Sakura whispered as she scooped her up into her arms. “I didn’t mean to leave you. You’re my one constant. My baby girl.”

Poppy licked her chin as if to say, You better be.

As she hugged her dog tightly, Sakura glanced back toward where the man had disappeared. Her thoughts were spiraling again.

She’d just seen someone oddly familiar. Even his figure rang some strange bell.

But most unsettling of all — for the second time that week — she couldn’t shake the gnawing, ridiculous possibility that her past wasn’t done with her yet.

...

A few days later, Sakura found herself in the middle of what she dramatically dubbed her unemployment arc, now featuring: wedding panic.

Naruto’s wedding was fast approaching, and she was currently drowning in a pile of clothes on her bed—none of which she liked. Sakura groaned, tossing aside a wrinkled purple gown with a huff. “Ugh. Everything I own looks like it came from a clearance bin in 2013.”

She glanced at the corner of her room where a small stack of designer shopping bags sat accusingly. Especially that one. A Gucci bag she’d impulsively bought on a “treat yourself” whim before quitting her job. She hadn’t even paid off the ¥87,000 instalment yet.

Sakura let out a frustrated puff of air and side-eyed a couple of hand-me-downs from her mom—vintage, yes, but not in the trendy way. “I am not showing up to Naruto’s wedding looking like his aunt.”

A loud rumble from her stomach broke her internal fashion meltdown. “God, I’m hungry.”

She stomped into the kitchen and yanked the refrigerator door open. Her expression fell.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” she muttered.

Inside: two sad eggs and a lone sausage.

“This is pathetic.”

Left with no other option, Sakura cracked the eggs into a pan and tossed the sausage in beside them. As they sizzled, the smell wafted through the tiny apartment.

Poppy, her loyal but greedy poodle, immediately came trotting over, barking at her feet with her tail wagging.

“Girl, seriously? You just ate five minutes ago!” Sakura scolded, frowning.

Still, she sighed, scooped out half the scrambled eggs onto a tiny plate, and placed it on the floor. “Fine. Half for you. Half for me. One egg left for dinner. Yay, budgeting.”

While chewing on her minimal lunch, Sakura checked her mobile banking app. Thankfully, she still had enough in savings to cover rent, bills, and a few essentials for a little while longer—but definitely not enough for a designer gown to wear to an extravagant wedding.

She glanced at Poppy, who was now begging for more egg.

“No, baby. That’s all you get. We’ve got to start rationing your dog food too. Mama’s broke.”

After cleaning up, Sakura knew what she had to do. She grabbed her tote bag, slipped on her beat-up sneakers, and leashed Poppy up. No taxis today—she took the bus to Target to restock her pantry as cheaply as possible. Luckily, her elderly landlord was kind enough to watch Poppy whenever she needed to run errands.

Once she arrived, Sakura grabbed a shopping cart and headed straight for the food section. She tossed in instant noodles, a dozen eggs, two packs of sausage, some vegetables, and a handful of tomatoes. Simple and affordable.

Then she wandered to the pet aisle, eyeing the dog treats. “You better appreciate this, Poppy,” she muttered as she picked out a small bag of chicken snacks.

Just as she reached for the shelf, she heard a familiar male voice from the other side of the aisle, muffled slightly by the neatly stacked products between them.

“Okay, we’ll talk more tonight. I’ll be at Uptown Hills restaurant at seven. Bye,” the voice said before hanging up.

Sakura froze. That voice… it sounded so familiar.

She leaned closer, catching only a glimpse of the man’s jaw and mouth through the gaps in the shelf. Strong jawline. Full lips. And from what little she saw—definitely good-looking.

Before she could piece anything else together, she accidentally bumped her cart into a small boy walking with his mother.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Sakura bowed repeatedly.

The woman scowled. “Watch where you're going next time,” she muttered and walked off without another glance.

Sakura hissed under her breath, “Geez, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

When she turned back to peek through the aisle, the man with the familiar voice was gone.

Could that have been River’s owner? she wondered. The tone, the confidence—it reminded her so much of that deep, velvety voice she heard calling for the German Shepherd at the park.

But then again, plenty of men had voices like that. Podcasters. News anchors. Even that barista she crushed on last year.

Still… she couldn’t shake the feeling.

At the checkout line, as she stood stuck behind five other people with full carts, she caught sight of a tall man in a sharp business suit walking through the glass doors of the store.

Her heart skipped. Was that him?

She wanted to run after him, just to catch a better look—but she was trapped, surrounded by beeping scanners and impatient customers. And just like that, he disappeared into the city crowd beyond the sliding doors.

Sakura sighed and looked down at her cart full of instant noodles, vegetables, and dog snacks. “Great. A mysterious, handsome stranger in a nice suit walks out of my life… while I’m holding twelve packs of instant ramen.”

She shook her head and muttered to herself, “I probably won’t ever see him again.”

But something in her gut told her otherwise.

- To Be Continued -

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

Sakura lay curled up on the couch, cocooned in an oversized purple hoodie pulled over her head, with a pair of Pikachu socks stretched up to her calves. Poppy had been asleep at her feet for a while, probably passed out from eating too much. The TV flickered dimly in the darkened room, playing a rerun of Final Destination 2. Sakura watched half-heartedly, her eyes glassy with fatigue, yet somehow wide awake.

It was already past 10 PM, but the restlessness in her chest made it impossible to sleep. On nights when her anxiety crept up without warning, she found herself turning to horror movies—not because she enjoyed the gore, but because, strangely, they calmed her. Maybe, on a subconscious level, it felt soothing to watch fictional characters go through something much worse than her own life. Misery, when exaggerated enough, became a kind of comfort.

Sakura had long given up on therapy. Talking to professionals hadn’t done much to ease her unease. Deep down, she knew the real work was something she had to do herself: to face whatever it was that kept tugging at her nerves, even though she still couldn’t name it.

She had been bullied since kindergarten—mocked for her big forehead and for crying too easily. That should’ve made her tougher. And in some ways, it had. But it had also made her sensitive, fragile even. People always assumed you grew stronger through pain. What they didn’t realize was that even the strongest people needed safe places too.

She once had Naruto and Hinata as her safe space during high school. But entering college, and then the professional world filled with competition and veiled cruelty, she had to learn to survive alone. There was no real sanctuary left for her now—except maybe her tiny apartment, and Poppy.

Certainly not her parents’ house.

Her mother, for instance, had become obsessed with setting her up on dates with the sons of family acquaintances ever since Sakura turned twenty. The older she got, the more persistent her mom became. It was becoming suffocating.

The reasoning? Simple: her mother didn’t want Sakura to “end up like Aunt Tsunade.”

Aunt Tsunade ran a small hair salon in their old neighborhood. She had once been engaged, but after that fell through, she chose to stay single and focus on her business. Now in her forties, she was independent, beautiful, and unapologetically alone. And still, men chased her. Uncle Jiraiya, their eccentric neighbor, often made grand, awkward attempts to take Tsunade on a date, always ending in rejection. Still, he kept trying.

Sakura admired that woman. But to her mother, Tsunade was a cautionary tale, not a role model.

In reality, times had changed. In modern Japan, being an unmarried woman was no longer a social death sentence. Birth rates had plummeted, and more young people were delaying or avoiding marriage altogether due to financial strain or personal freedom. But still, her mother clung to that outdated fear—that Sakura would end up alone, with no one to take care of her.

Maybe that fear had mutated into Sakura’s own chronic anxiety, passed down like a family heirloom. She sighed and yawned. At least she had Poppy.

She glanced at her sleeping dog and whispered, “Please live a long life, okay, sweetheart?” while gently stroking her curly fur.

The thing was, Sakura wasn’t afraid of being alone.

What she feared was being surrounded by people who didn’t truly see her. And sometimes, being alone was the only place where she could feel whole.

Soon, she drifted off, a light snore escaping her lips.

The TV continued playing, casting light over the room as a news segment began:

“Japan’s leading tech giant, Newman Enterprise, has just launched its most ground-breaking product yet—a triple-fold AI-powered smartphone that can expand into a full-sized tablet. With flexible AMOLED Gorilla Glass, an IP68 waterproof rating, and a 300-million-fold durability promise, the phone is expected to change the market.”

On screen, Newman’s CEO Aruhima Sakamoto appeared alongside his newly appointed marketing manager—Uchiha Sasuke.

The event was a star-studded spectacle, featuring international brand ambassadors like Byeon Woo-seok, Fumiya Takahashi, and IVE’s Jang Wonyoung for East Asia; Shanaya Kapoor for South Asia; Lily-Rose Depp for Europe; Sabrina Carpenter and Austin Butler for the US and Canada; and BLACKPINK’s Lisa for Southeast Asia.

But amid the celebrities, all eyes subtly gravitated toward Sasuke.

When he sat beside Austin Butler, many in the media couldn’t help but comment that Sasuke looked even more striking than the Californian actor. The global pre-orders for the tri-fold phone had already approached 20 million units, despite the $2,800 price tag.

The camera zoomed in on Sasuke as he gave a poised statement in fluent English. And in that exact moment, Sakura started dreaming.

She was suddenly sitting in a manicured meadow, sipping tea from an elegant porcelain cup like some 19^th-century duchess. Everything was peaceful.

Until it wasn’t.

The scene shifted violently. Now she was standing on a golf course, dressed in a ridiculous caddy uniform and struggling to carry a full bag of golf clubs.

“Hurry up, Forehead!”

That deep, familiar voice barked from somewhere ahead of her.

Sakura groaned and stomped her feet in the turf.

Damn it. Not him again.

“If you don’t want to be my caddy today, you better pay for the shoes you stepped on yesterday! Got it?” Sasuke snapped, his arms crossed as he glared at her from across the golf course.

“Oh please! You buy new shoes every day anyway! What’s the big deal?” Sakura shot back, marching toward him while dramatically lifting one foot to display her worn-out sneakers. “Have you even seen my shoes? They're falling apart!”

Sasuke sighed heavily, almost imperceptibly.

The truth was, he had noticed her shoes. Long before anyone else did.

In fact, the only reason he roped her into this ridiculous last-minute caddy job was so he could pay her—disguised as a favor—without hurting her pride. He knew Sakura would never accept money or gifts directly from him, especially given her deep-seated grudge since their first day of school.

But this? This way, she could keep her dignity, and maybe even buy herself a decent pair of shoes.

Still, he kept his usual stoic expression.

“Hey! I know your shoes are falling apart,” he barked again, arms crossed. “But that’s no excuse to walk like a turtle, understand?”

Sakura scowled. “Ugh! You’re so cruel. I’m literally carrying golf equipment that weighs heavier than my entire house, and you have the nerve to—”

“Less whining, more walking,” Sasuke said coolly, adjusting his gloves. “You agreed to do this job for extra pocket money, didn’t you? Every complaint you make is costing you two cents off your pay.”

Sakura muttered curses under her breath.

If it wasn’t for the money, I wouldn’t do this even if the world was exploding.

With an exaggerated groan, she dropped the heavy golf bag next to him.

“Here. Take your precious club,” she huffed, puffing out her cheeks like a sulking child as she handed him one of the clubs.

Sasuke accepted it, quickly turning away to hide the small smile creeping onto his face.

There was something... absurdly charming about her pouty expression. But of course, he’d rather die than admit it.

“And the ball,” he added flatly, trying to suppress the faint blush on his cheeks.

Sakura crouched, fished out a white golf ball from the front pocket of the bag, and shoved it toward him without much grace.

Sasuke positioned the ball on the tee, setting his stance to swing. He focused, lining up his shoulders, gripping the club, eyes narrowed. But something shifted.

Suddenly—

It wasn’t the golf ball anymore.

It was... Sakura’s head.

Buried in the grass, her face frozen in panic as her body was trapped beneath the soil.

“SASUKE! WHAT THE HELL! STOP! DON’T HIT MY HEAD!! SASUKE, I SWEAR TO GOD—!!”

Her scream echoed just as he swung the club.

---

Sakura bolted upright on the couch, gasping for breath. Her forehead was covered in cold sweat, her hoodie tangled around her neck. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she scanned the room in panic. It took a second to realize—

It was just a dream.

A terrible, bizarre dream.

Poppy barked at her anxiously and jumped into Sakura’s lap, her high-pitched yaps filling the room.

She blinked. The TV was still on, humming with static after playing reruns all night.

The clock above it read 9:30 AM.

“Crap!” Sakura groaned, stumbling off the couch, causing Poppy to tumble down too. “This is going to kill my electric bill…”

She rushed over and yanked the power cord from the wall with exaggerated urgency, as if it would reverse the charges. Poppy kept barking, circling her legs impatiently.

“I know, sweetie, I know. You’re starving,” she muttered, still groggy. “Blame your mom who overslept again…”

She scooped up Poppy’s dry food from the cupboard, added a bit of fish oil and vitamins, and placed it into her dish. The little poodle dove in like a wild animal, scarfing down every bite with tail-wagging enthusiasm.

Sakura couldn’t help but smile, reaching out to stroke her back gently. “You have no idea, do you? I’ve been having the weirdest nightmares lately…”

She sat on the floor beside her dog, hugging her knees, her head resting on top of them.

“Why the hell do I keep dreaming about that jerk?” she mumbled. “And why does it feel so... vivid?”

There was no answer, of course—just the soft crunching of kibble beside her and the hum of the fridge in the quiet apartment.

---

Sakura was once again rummaging through her tiny wardrobe, trying for the millionth time to pick the right dress for Naruto's wedding. She had already turned down the alumni reunion invite from her smug college friends—the ones she wasn’t even that close with. There was no way she could show up jobless without feeling utterly humiliated.

She sighed and held up a black dress that looked a little too sultry for a wedding.

"Funny, isn’t it? I turned down a reunion because I’m unemployed, but I’m accepting a wedding invitation from a childhood friend who works at freaking Newman," she muttered to herself with a dry laugh, shaking her head.

At the very least, she hoped Naruto might have some good news about a job opportunity. Still, she didn’t want to get her hopes up. She hadn’t heard a word from him about it lately. Maybe he was just too busy. Or maybe, deep down, he didn’t really care—maybe he just wanted a full guest list to hype up his wedding.

"Stop it," she whispered, shaking her head to rid herself of the creeping negativity.

After tossing aside several more options, her hand stopped at a soft, baby pink dress. Her prom dress. The dress from that night.

The night she would never forget until the day she died.

A flash of memory surged forward.

She had walked to the podium in disbelief, thinking she'd been chosen as prom queen. It never made sense to her—why would her smug classmates suddenly crown the non-famous, poor girl they loved to mock?

But there she was. Everyone was clapping, even Karui and Suigetsu, the MCs for the night. Well, everyone except Karin, who had nominated herself and was clearly fuming that she’d lost—and worse, that Sasuke, the prom king, was standing next to Sakura.

Karui placed a tiara on Sakura’s head, the crowd clapped again, and Suigetsu took the mic.

“Alright, calm down, everyone! Let’s hear a few words from our prom queen of the year, Miss Haruno!” he called, hyping up the room.

The claps turned oddly expectant, as if waiting for something else.

Just as Sakura opened her mouth to speak, it happened—her real-life Carrie moment. A bucket of red paint flew toward her. But before it hit her, someone jumped in front of her. She gasped.

It was Sasuke.

He had wrapped her in a hug and taken the full brunt of the paint. Gasps erupted across the room. And then, in the most bizarre twist of all—he kissed her.

The first and only girl Uchiha Sasuke had ever kissed.

Red paint dripped down from his jet-black hair to his jaw like blood. Sakura stood frozen, heart racing, the shock of it all sending her into a silent panic attack. The only thing grounding her in that moment… was the kiss.

Back in the present, Sakura snapped out of it with burning cheeks. "Nope," she muttered, stuffing the pink dress back into her wardrobe like it had bitten her.

---

The day dragged. Job scrolling turned into endless doomscrolling, and the funny TikToks she watched were starting to feel more like brain rot.

"Poppy, mommy needs a break. I’m heading out for a bit—just going to grab some beer. I’ll be back in 30 minutes, tops," she said, stroking her dog who was curled up faithfully at her feet.

Poppy whimpered and trailed behind her as she neared the door.

Sakura sighed. "Ugh, fine. You’re coming too. But promise me—you don’t poop inside Lawson, alright?"

Poppy barked happily and wagged her tail as Sakura clipped on the leash.

They strolled down the quiet sidewalk under the dim summer evening sky. Soon, they reached the nearest Lawson.

"Thank you," Sakura told the cashier after paying for a few beers, two-flavor ice cream, and a small pack of dog snacks.

She opened one of the ice creams as she walked out. "You want a snack, too?" she cooed, her voice babyish as Poppy wagged her tail and barked eagerly.

Sakura opened the treat and knelt to offer it. Poppy licked it up with gusto.

"My smart little baby," she smiled, stroking the dog’s head.

Unbeknownst to her, a black BMW had pulled into the lot. A man with dishevelled black hair and a loosened tie stepped out, running a hand through his hair. His handsome face was etched with exhaustion.

"All full now? Let’s go home," Sakura said as she threw the snack wrapper into a nearby trash bin and pulled her hoodie tighter.

"Weird... It’s summer already, but this wind feels like autumn," she muttered, teeth slightly chattering.

Poppy tilted her head in confusion.

"You’re not cold, huh? Of course not. You’ve got fur. I’ve got nothing," she said with a pout, pulling the hood over her head and tightening the leash.

As she and Poppy strolled away, the man by the BMW kept watching her.

Eyes wide.

Like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

- To Be Continued -

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

Sakura hadn’t planned on going out again.

Just three days ago, she had dragged herself to Target to buy instant ramen, some vegetables, eggs, and two-for-one dog treats for Poppy. Yet she still impulsively spent more than she should have—splurging on a new body scrub and face mask that promised to 'detox negative energy’. The irony wasn’t lost on her.

Now she was back to counting coins and squinting at her online bank balance. She told herself it was part of healing—discipline, simplicity, not feeding the capitalist machine. Mostly, though, she was just broke.

So when she ran out of toilet paper, it felt personal.

She tried to hold out—first napkins, then old towels. Then she panicked, realizing she was dangerously close to using her old university hoodie.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” she muttered to no one in particular as she slipped into sneakers and zipped up her hoodie. “I surrender.”

The plaza was only a few blocks away, a cluttered row of discount stores, a 24-hour minimart, and an odd mishmash of food stalls and random services. It smelled like grilled chicken skewers and car exhaust. Poppy stayed behind this time, tucked into her dog bed and still annoyed at Sakura for forgetting her morning walk.

All Sakura wanted was to grab some toilet paper and shampoo—in and out. Five minutes, tops. She passed the takoyaki stand with effort, resisting temptation. She waved off the flier guy offering nail salon promos. She was focused.

Until she saw the tarot reader.

The table was tucked near the escalators, squeezed between a dusty key duplication stall and a store selling retro anime figurines. A cloth in deep purple was draped over the table, weighted by polished stones and a flickering electric candle. Behind it sat an old woman with sharp eyes, silver hair tied back in a long braid, and hands that looked like they had seen decades of truth.

Before she could stop herself, Sakura found her legs moving. Her wallet screamed. Her common sense screamed louder.

“Just one reading,” the woman said without looking up. “First time is free.”

Sakura hesitated.

“You are not here by accident,” the woman added, eyes finally meeting hers.

Sakura sat.

The woman shuffled the cards with steady fingers, then asked, “What weighs on your heart?”

“Money,” Sakura blurted. “And men. And life. And my job. Or lack of job.”

The woman smiled. “Let’s see.”

She drew three cards and placed them face-up.

The first: The Man from the Past — a figure walking away but looking back over his shoulder.
The second: The Moon — shadowy, reflective, secrets just beneath the surface.
The third: The Wedding — two figures holding hands beneath an arch of flowers.

Sakura blinked. Then laughed. “Well, that’s obvious. I’m going to Naruto’s wedding this Saturday—he’s my best friend from high school. Definitely ‘the man from the past,’ right?”

But the woman was no longer smiling.

Her eyes locked onto Sakura’s. And in that split second, it all rushed back—not like a calm slideshow, but like a box she’d taped shut years ago suddenly ripping open from the inside:

She saw prom night—the weird, chaotic moment when Sasuke accidentally kissed her, after splashes of red paint came out of nowhere. His face had been streaked with red paint that looked like blood, and hers had been flushed with confusion and disbelief.

She remembered gym class, when he tossed a baseball directly at her head with that maddeningly smug expression, like he knew she’d miss the catch. Which, of course, she did.

She remembered the afternoon he bullied her into being his caddy, carrying his entire golf set under the blazing sun. Her arms had been sore for days. And yet, afterward, he silently handed her a cold juice box. She took it, scowling. He looked away, but she saw the way his ear turned pink.

She remembered him standing behind her during practice, adjusting her grip on the golf club, his hands barely touching hers. Her heart had raced so hard, she thought it would leap out of her chest.

She remembered the school trip to the beach—how she had drifted too far in the water, panic rising in her chest. Then, suddenly, he was there, dragging her out of the tide, muttering something about her being a disaster magnet.

She remembered throwing her worn-out sneaker at his back in the middle of an argument, hitting him square between the shoulder blades. He didn’t turn around. He just sighed. But he didn’t throw it back, either.

And then, clearest of all, she remembered the rain—the stormy afternoon when her umbrella broke, and he appeared out of nowhere to hand her his. “It’s useless anyway,” he had muttered. “You look like someone who suits broken things.” Then he walked away in the downpour.

They had been teenagers. Angry, clumsy, and defensive. But somehow, those moments had etched themselves deep inside her—sharp as glass, soft as memory.

Sakura’s heart stuttered. Her breath caught.

The old woman said nothing. Just watched.

“It can’t be him,” Sakura whispered. “I hated him. He made my life hell. We never even saw each other again.”

The woman gently tapped the Moon card. “Sometimes the past hides what the heart refused to see.”

Then, with a small, knowing smile, she added, “You’ll see him soon.”

---

Sakura stood up abruptly, mumbling a quick thanks. She nearly forgot her toilet paper.

As she hurried back to her apartment, a black BMW drove past—the car that had once been parked outside the Lawson the night she bought beer. The one with the handsome guy behind the wheel.

Back home, she dropped the shopping bag on the floor and stared at the wall, stunned.

“No way,” she muttered. “No freaking way.”

But her heart was pounding, and for the first time in weeks, it wasn’t from anxiety.

It was something else entirely.

Something she didn’t dare name yet.

---

Sakura was still trembling with anxiety when she rushed into her room. Without even taking off her shoes, she went straight to her closet and opened the bottom drawer.

It had been a long time since she’d touched that book.

The one from her high school graduation—bound in navy faux leather, its pages heavy with cringeworthy nostalgia. Inside were photos of her awkward teenage self: greasy bangs, hormonal acne, and a smile that tried too hard. She hadn’t looked at it in years.

She flipped to the page with a folded receipt marking it. Her fingers slowed. There she was—still looking naive and painfully ordinary (some things never changed). Her eyes drifted sideways to the photo of a boy she had furiously scribbled over until his face was all but obliterated in thick, angry pen marks.

Uchiha Sasuke.

Beneath his photo was the quote he had chosen to include:
"The mind is not a vessel to be filled, but a fire to be kindled." – Plutarch.

Sakura bit her lip. A new wave of panic surged through her chest like a glass puzzle shattering all at once—memories long buried clawing their way back to the surface.

It had happened on prom night.

The night she was crowned prom queen—wearing a dress lovingly sewn by her grandmother, expecting nothing more than a magical evening, just like in the movies. But instead of magic, she got chaos.

Red paint had exploded toward her just as she was about to give a speech she hadn’t even prepared. Some prank gone wrong—someone had aimed at her.

Sasuke had thrown himself in the way.

He took the full brunt of it, his expensive designer tuxedo ruined, face streaked in red that looked disturbingly like blood. And in the confusion, the noise, and the flashing lights—

He kissed her.

Her first kiss. Stolen by the guy who had annoyed her more than anyone else in school.

She had panicked—froze, then shoved him away with both hands. He’d stumbled back, landing hard on the stage floor, still dripping paint.

All she could think about then was how ruined her dress was, how humiliated she felt, how angry she was at him for making the moment even worse.

She hadn’t even said thank you.

The truth was, he had protected her. The red paint had barely grazed her gown. Nothing like the soaked, horror-movie mess it could have been. He had spared her that. And she had repaid him with a shove and silence.

Maybe that’s why he’d treated her coldly for the rest of senior year.

Maybe that’s why he disappeared without saying goodbye.

“I was annoying,” she whispered, the words raw as they left her mouth.

She reached out and touched the photo she had once scribbled over in a fury. The ink had faded slightly over time, but the damage was permanent. No matter how many times she tried to erase it—she couldn’t bring it back to how it was.

Just then, her phone buzzed in the pocket of her hoodie. She jumped.

It was a message from Naruto.

With a shaky breath, she slid the book back into the drawer, wiped her tears quickly, and opened the chat.

Naruto:
"Sakura, I just got word from HR—they’re doing a limited selection for an admin staff role in the marketing team.
I can’t help you directly because it’s a fair process, and you’ll have to go through all the steps like everyone else.
But I did put in a good word with my boss to make sure they take your application seriously.
I really believe in you.
Good luck, and don’t forget to come to my wedding! I saved you a VVIP seat 😉"

Sakura let out a small breath. Her chest loosened a little.

Maybe things weren’t completely hopeless after all.

She had been unemployed for a while after college, and though she had survived worse, it still felt like the older she got, the heavier the pressure became. Her anxiety had grown with her—always preparing for the worst, always expecting failure.

She quickly typed back:

Sakura:
"Woww! Thanks, Naruto. I’ll send in my CV right away!
Wishing you and Hinata the bestest wedding ever! I seriously can’t wait. Give her a hug from me too! 😏"

She hit send and tossed the phone onto her bed just as she collapsed onto it herself, arms spread out.

Poppy was zooming around the living room, chasing some invisible enemy and thudding into furniture. For once, Sakura let her mind go quiet.

And then, out of nowhere, a strange impulse struck her.

She thought of the dress.

The prom dress.

Was it still in the back of her closet?

Was it even wearable?

She pinched the soft flesh at her waist and grimaced. “Hopefully it still fits,” she muttered.

But a small, inexplicable part of her wanted to try it on—just to see if it still held a piece of who she used to be.

Or maybe, to see if it could help her step into something new.

- To Be Continued -