IV.

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It was Monday afternoon and a frustrated Sarada was sitting in her office. She was supposed to be finishing up her article on the tennis tournament or at least making some progress on the outline for her cover story, but instead, she kept having to shake herself out of Boruto related daydreams.

The way he talked in that smooth voice, his impossibly blue eyes, and the sly way he snuck up on her until they were breathing the same air. When he was around she couldn't even think straight. No man had ever consumed her thoughts the way he did and she was beginning to resent him for it.

With a frustrated groan, Sarada picked up her pen and scratched off another idea from the uninspiring list in her notebook before slumping back in her chair.

Caffeine. That was what she needed! A nice hot, mocha latte would surely clear the fog that was clouding her usual creativity.

Sarada stood up, closed her laptop, and slipped her arms into the sleeves of her coat. On her way out the door, she stopped by Mitsuki's office. "I'm running to go grab a coffee, you want to come?"

"Sure," he nodded with a smile and followed behind her.

The pair stepped out of the Kaminarimon Publishing Company headquarters onto a busy downtown street full of salarymen bustling around between meetings. Sarada shoved her hands into her pockets as they headed a few streets over to her favorite coffee shop.

"How's your article going this week? You're covering that big football game, right?" she asked. The friends conversed about their assignments and Sarada told him about the mini interview she scored with Shikadai Nara.

Mitsuki politely opened the door for her and the moment she stepped inside the rich scent of coffee beans brought a smile to her lips. They stood in line, and as Mitsuki pursued the menu, Sarada found her dark eyes gravitating toward a shelf lined with celebrity gossip magazines.

"Do they have almond milk here?" Mitsuki asked and Sarada tore her gaze from the tabloids like she had just been caught doing something naughty.

But apparently, it wasn't quick enough, because she still saw his name mentioned in one of the little blurbs on the cover.

"Oh yeah, they do," Sarada nodded, as she resisted a frustrated little pout. She was feeling a bit irked that her one attempt to escape any Bolt Uzumaki-related thoughts was foiled so easily.

He was legitimately haunting her.

When she sat back down at her desk, Sarada opened her laptop to a new browser window and typed 'Bolt Uzumaki' into the search bar as she repeatedly reminded herself it had nothing to do with that stupid tabloid. She was just doing more research for her cover story.

But if that particular article just so happened to pop up, she should probably read it. But only because it was a part of her job to keep up with other coverage about him!

Sarada rolled her eyes after reading the short piece about him having dinner with this girl he was rumored to have some on-again, off-again relationship with.

She hated that she even cared.

No. She didn't care. She was just curious. And now her curiosity was sated, and she wasted five minutes of her life.

Sarada swore these stupid tabloids would turn any minuscule event in a famous person's life into news as if there wasn't real and important shit happening out there.

But then a thought struck her. All those shallow articles about Boruto boiled down to one thing, his admirers took a rather keen interest in not just his accolades on the track, but him as a person.

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