Dancing Dawn Ch 18

So.

The prodigal daughter had returned.

When he had first laid eyes on the little dancer, it was as if he had been brought back in time almost twenty years. That silhouette, that grace, that pink hair haunted his memory, particularly since nine years ago. The past and his actions nipped at his heels constantly when he had his guard down, and it always took effort to escape his demons.

Demons of his own making, certainly. But success without sacrifice was not truly success.

His only regret was that his plan was foiled at the last minute by that damnable eccentric.

He was only looking out for the company. Ninja Records was Sarutobi's dream, certainly, his baby. But he didn't build it alone. He'd had support, several people who came to his aid in all sorts of ways: scrounging up financial support, scouting for talent and managers, technicians and engineers, lawyers and assistants, on and on, everything one ever needed to build a successful international record label. He had helped in that endeavour.

But again, success didn't come without sacrifice.

It was too bad Sarutobi was a stubborn fool. An old stubborn fool now, but he'd always been stubborn. Adamant, some would say, steadfast, but he knew better. He knew Sarutobi, and knew the old chairman of Ninja Records didn't have what it takes to keep the company thriving.

He didn't have what it takes to push the company forward; he lacked the ambition, the gumption, the balls, to sacrifice. He worked himself to the bone, figuratively, but when it came to making hard choices he was too soft. And too proud.

So, having a stake in the company, it made sense that he himself would make those choices instead. He had the ambition, the business savvy, the necessary ruthlessness that Sarutobi lacked to make Ninja Records great. He understood sacrifice, even if it meant sacrificing himself. Greatness, after all, had a high cost. But this was bigger than him, bigger than anyone including the obnoxious talent they represented, so he would do what was necessary.

He had been foiled once, twice if he counted how that pathetic husband of Emiko's had whisked away their daughter before the soil had even settled around his dead wife. The brat had been of little consequence then, but she, being the spitting image of her mother, had potential use.

Her father had been prudent to leave as quickly as he had, to where even his spies could not easily find him. He zig-zagged around the world, travelling across the ocean and by all sorts of transportation, paying cash, so tracking them had been… challenging, and demanding of patience. But it paid off. Sort of.

By the time his eyes had located them, too long had passed and they had managed to settle in the United States, far away from his influence. Rather quickly, but that was a benefit of being a businessman – friends in the right places. This he knew from experience.

His shadows may have spotted the Harunos, but they could do nothing. Figuring that what was left of the family was helpless, and useless at that point in time, he called back his spies. That eccentric madman may have lost his prey too, for if they were beyond his reach they were beyond his, but he had others, others that he himself might need to make use of as well. So his spies were given new missions, and only once in a while did he send one back across the Pacific to check in on the little family.

The last few years he had been negligent, having given up almost all hope that he could get near them in time to put his plans in motion. For some reason, only the father had returned to Japan, always sporadically and never for long. But, whether by chance or design, the daughter never returned.

Until now.

How fortuitous that the brat had grown to be just like her mother. In looks, she could've been her sister, but also a talented dancer? Almost a perfect carbon copy. And around the right age too. A little younger, perhaps, than when Emiko had entered the fold of Ninja Records and both his and Sarutobi's good graces. There might be some legal challenges, especially as her father would not doubt interfere again, but if he timed everything just right, his plan could work.

The gods certainly seemed to favour him, as not only was she just like Emiko in every way that counted – even if her eyes were her father's, green eyes were exotic enough to add an extra favourable element – but she had made contact with his company. Both Akatsuki and Team 7, if the report in his hand was accurate.

Which it always was.

As he ran his thumb absentmindedly over her picture, taken as she was shopping with her two friends – the Hyuga heiress and the Spanish ambassador's daughter, no less, it seems her father wasn't the only one who knew how to make the right friends – he pressed a button on his teleconference phone on his desk.

"Sir?"

"Get me the reporters," he said to his assistant.

"Which ones, sir?"

He paused for a second. This one was a small decision, in the grand scheme of things, but oh, the potential it held for large consequences. People so easily overlooked seemingly small choices. Easy didn't always mean safe; he had learned a long time ago and having harnessed that insight is what made him invaluable.

Calling the local newspaper made the whole thing too tedious and serious. Konoha needed a real jolt, not some reporter's bland take. But a scandal magazine would destroy this girl, and he needed her, so that was off the table. He needed something in between – a reliable source that would take a juicy scoop but not over dramatize it to publish it. A small article in a semi-legitimate, dependable reporting source with a large enough subscribing base to catch the eye of a few would be ideal, to slowly plant the seed of intrigue and spread it at a more sedate pace.

"Just the local town magazine. That Shiranui fellow will do."

"Yes, sir."

While he waited for his assistant to make the call, he placed the file on his desk and gazed out the window of his office, rubbing his chin. Perhaps waiting for so long had been for the best. Yes, his plan, born anew from the ashes of that day when the accident happened, was slowly taking shape in his mind's eye, and it was even better than the original. Ninja Records had grown since then, its success spread over the world like wildfire. And the little dancer was already acquainted with the ones behind it all. She seemed to get along with them, in fact.

Perhaps this time things will go smoothly.

He was sure that detestable madman was aware the girl was in Japan, so he'd have to keep a closer eye on her this time. It would be a shame if she, like her mother before her, slipped past his fingers like a cruel mockery.

Unlike that man, though, he had a secret weapon. He discovered it on accident, but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He turned his attention back to his file, shuffling some papers with a flick of his wrist to gaze distractedly at the image behind that of Emiko's daughter and her friends. He lifted the photograph to his eye level, regarding it quietly as his mind kept planning and putting pieces in place.

"Genma Shiranui is on the line, sir."

"Thank you. Shiranui-san, it is a pleasure to talk with you again…" he began, setting down the picture of Naruto Uzumaki and Sakura Haruno as he started to set his plan in motion.

Figures it would take a pandemic to get me to update haha

I was having some issues developing the plot, so I brainstormed and wrote everything down. Great! Then I lost it. Drat!

So as this story progresses it might change as I try to piece together my plot from memory but hey, if we're all lucky I might find that plot again, but it can still change even then. So anyway, hope you enjoyed!

Published Mar 30, 2020

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Wow! Hope you're all staying safe, stay strong!

AA