Lovestruck || borusara

II.

Sarada checked the sticky note Karin wrote for her one last time before gazing up at the massive athletics facility. With her bag slung over her shoulder, she wrapped the edges of her oversized cardigan tighter around herself, feeling uncharacteristically anxious as she ventured inside.

Maybe it was because there was a greater pressure to excel given that she was writing a cover story, or maybe it was because she knew she was going to have to try to be especially nice when she already knew she didn't like guys like Bolt Uzumaki.

The lobby area was quiet, void of any other people despite it being midday. Her shoes clacked against the tile floor as she ventured past an overflowing trophy case toward a promising-looking door.

Loud, energetic music assaulted her ears the moment she slipped into the massive room. Small sets of bleachers wrapped around the entirety of a rusty red track. A plush-looking patch of artificial grass sat inside. Dark eyes scanned the room, spotting a blonde man in navy sweats standing on the sidelines, his arms crossed over his chest.

With quick steps, Sarada walked over to him hoping he would be able to introduce her to Bolt.

"Excuse me, sir?" she called as she approached him. But the moment he turned around, her heart skipped and her eyes filled with recognition.

"Hello, and who might you be?" he greeted with a warm smile.

Sarada almost never got starstruck by the athletes she met through work, but her brain seemed to struggle to find words in his presence. "Hi, wow! Hi, Mr. Namikaze Yellow Flash, sir. Wow, it's such an honor to meet you!"

Well, if that wasn't the opposite of smooth.

But it was hard not to be a tad flustered by the most decorated Olympian in Konoha's history. Not to mention even for an older gentleman, he was still really good-looking.

Thankfully, he chuckled like he didn't mind her nervous babbling and replied, "Just Minato is fine. And your name?"

She grew embarrassed realizing he had had to ask twice. "Oh yes, of course, I'm Sarada with Athletics Illustrated, here to talk to Bolt."

"Ah," he nodded before reaching into his pocket and retrieving his phone. He tapped a few times and suddenly the loud music went completely silent.

"Oi! What the fuck?!" a distant voice shouted only a second later.

Sarada's gaze followed the sound across the facility to where Bolt seemed to be running sprints on the opposite end of the track.

"You have a visitor," Minato called.

His attention shifted to Sarada and his initial annoyance at the interruption of his training was quickly traded for curiosity. A moment later, he was jogging in their direction.

"Well, hello there, visitor," Bolt smirked as his blue eyes looked her up and down, not even a little ashamed to be so blatantly checking her out in front of his own grandfather.

"I'm actually on my way out, but it was nice to meet you," Minato told her with a friendly wave.

"Oh no, the pleasure was all mine!" Sarada replied, her cheeks warming simply from his kind and gentle aura.

Her dark gaze followed Minato as he walked away until she heard the sound of Bolt's laughter. Sarada jerked her head in his direction to find an amused smile tugging at his lips. "Are you sure you were here to see me?"

She instinctively scoffed at him. All her background research resurfaced in her memory as if to remind her that she already didn't like him.

But she still had to be professional.