Disclaimer: Hahaha, I wish.

Also, in case you were wondering, MultiSaku means there's going to be several love interests-including quite a few who aren't listed on this fic's profile. But enough about future stuff, let's focus on the present and this chapter!

Chapter 1

It was 87 degrees outside. Sakura didn't need a thermometer or an app to tell her. She could feel it in the oppressiveness of the heat, in the way it filled the air around the closed windows as though it were trying to break in. From her place on the floor, Sakura stared up at the closest window. Like all the other windows in the house, it was covered with several wooden planks that only let in thin slivers of sunlight.

The entire house was an axe murderer's dream come true. A rickety staircase, creaky, debris-covered floors, and doors that squealed like being opened and closed was torture. Of course, Sakura scoffed to herself, of course she'd be drawn to a place like that. It's always the creepy places.

She sat up, craning her neck a little, to drink some of her water. It wouldn't do her much good to wear it. Satisfied, she set the glass aside and resettled herself so her sweatshirt once again propped up her head. Her fingers drew shapes on the wooden floor beneath her. If she angled them just right, Sakura could see the chipped remains of her purple glitter nail polish.

Sakura was the only human in the house. But that didn't mean she was alone there. Bees had taken residence in the attic. Termites left deep scars in the woodwork. And there were mice upstairs.

They lived up in the second floor closet at the end of the hall. If Sakura closed her eyes, she could hear their tiny paws pattering against the ground as they hurried around their kingdom of a nest, minding the termites and the bees. When the mice got hungry, they would take trips through the hole in the far corner of the closet down into the pantry.

It was hard to say why the hole was there. Or, better yet, how the hole came to be. Maybe it was those termites, maybe it was an unhappy spouse trying to get revenge before finalizing a divorce. Maybe, though, it was just the house's way of refusing to support humanity anymore. A quiet resistance, one the house refused to end. Even now, after its last owners were long gone and its foundation was crumbling. I will die on my own terms, the house seemed to say.

But houses were just things.

Sakura frowned, feeling that fluttering twinge within her chest. It pulled at her skin, like a wound attempting to scab over. Pulling and pulling and pulling. Fluttering and fluttering. Sakura gritted her teeth as the sensation intensified. Instead of curling in on herself, she pulled out her phone to check the time. The sun was going to set soon.

It was almost time.

In another realm, one that was both far and close from Earth, the trees were screaming. They didn't scream in the way beasts did, with mouths wide open. Trees didn't have mouths. But the trees had roots and branches and thick trunks. And so these trees curled inward, tearing up the ground as a sign of rage and pain. And as a warning to any foolish enough to get too close.

Even through their uproar, their pained screams, another cry of pain rang out. And it was this cry that drove the trees to cry out as well. It was this cry that made the trees twist their branches and trunks, to rip up their roots and rattle the earth, in an attempt to curl around what sounded like a tormented beast. Their master.

The cracks made by the branches and the trunks and the roots as they tried to pull in close revealed glimpses of a man collapsed on the ground. His fingers dug into his sides, tearing at the fine robes that adorned his body. He was blind to everything around him. Blind to the fresh smell of dirt. Blind to the ground that trembled beneath his crouched form. Blind to the snap and crack and groan of the trees as they circled him, trying to find what was hurting their master.

Hashirama was blind to it all, to everything except the hunger.

Eat. Feed. Kill. He roared as the pain peaked, and the trees drew in closer. He needed to stop this…this, whatever it was that tormented him, that consumed him. The hunger had always been there but never like this. Before it had been a tickle of an ache. Something he could endure as he tended his plants and his territory. But now, like this, it was different. It had to stop, Hashirama needed to make it stop.

He slammed his head against the ground. Over and over. He was unaware of the blood that trickled in his eyes and the pain that came with it. There was only enough room in his mind for this pain. It needed to stop. He needed, needed….

Dig.

Hashirama panted, chest heaving and revealing glimpses of skin that crackled like bark. Saliva dripped from his mouth as he stared with glazed, unseeing eyes at the blood that covered his hand. The pain jarred him again, and, with a roar fiercer than all the rest, Hashirama ripped open the ground and the barrier that separated all realms, tearing down, down, down. Because that was why he was here. Something was causing him pain.

Something hiding beyond his sight that only he could feel.

It was there, at the edge of the pain, taunting him. He snarled and continued to rip the earth apart, even as he fell. He was getting closer to the source of his affliction. The air rippled, bouncing back as Hashirama left his realm far behind him. He didn't notice, didn't care. Because he would destroy it, crush it, devour every inch of what afflicted him.

The ground rattled as he landed, feet-first. Here, it was here. He—

"Wow."

Hashirama blinked, jolting as though he had just been doused by cold water. He realized he was standing, although Hashirama couldn't remember getting out of bed that morning. His robes were torn as though he transformed at some point. It also felt like drool, or something equally sticky and disgusting, was smeared over the lower half of his mouth and chin.

A pang of pain stopped him from wiping it away. Hashirama brought a hand to his forehead. Blood smeared across his fingers when he pulled them away. Did he…he hadn't hit his head getting out of bed again, had he?

He looked up from his hand, wincing at the rawness of his throat (He certainly wasn't sick, and he couldn't remember screaming). It was only then that he realized that he was no longer in the forest he called home. The air smelled of rot and mold and the wood that surrounded him felt brittle and was covered by a layer of paint. A den of sorts, probably for one of those "new age" ink-wielders. There was hardly light in the space, save for a strange blue light across from a young woman who held it.

She sat on the ground with her back against the shelter's wall. Pink hair framed a tired, pale face as green eyes stared unblinkingly up at him. He winced, feeling a twinge of—something under the weight of her stare. Those green eyes-not an ink-wielder then-shined in the artificial sunlight, like leaves in the summer sun. He….

Want.

"Who," Hashirama rubbed his throat then tried again, "Who are you?" Despite his late brother's claims, Hashirama was not a fool. The pain that began to plague him decades ago had recently gotten worse. While he had never injured himself before—or destroyed his clothes—he was well aware that it was only a matter of time before the moments when he blacked out increased. He was only fortunate enough that no one was fool enough to enter his territory. The thought of the tragedies that could have occurred soured his stomach.

This young…creature was involved. That was the only way to explain why now, after so many years, there was no sign of the pain that came and went.

"Sakura." The woman, Sakura, replied, running a hand through her hair. Hashirama found himself following the movement with his eyes. Small fingers, small figure, small bones. Just what was this strange creature? One of those fae of the other realm, perhaps? Tobirama would have known, were he still alive. "It's technically my fault you're here."

Hashirama raised an eyebrow, "'Technically.'" He couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice, dabbing at his chin with his sleeve to wipe away the drool. Great Gaia, that was drool. "You make it sound like someone else is responsible."

Want.

"My great great great grandmother got cursed by this guy she refused to marry," Sakura responded blandly. The blue light's glow gave her a glassy sheen. "I guess he wanted her to draw in monsters so they could rip her apart, or, you know, whatever struck their fancy. She dodged a bullet there, if you ask me." She sighed, as though mildly inconvenienced by the whole ordeal. Were it actually true.

"Unfortunately," Sakura went on, "the man was just as horrible at magic as he was at being a decent human being. The curse missed her, skipped over a few generations, and hit me instead." Her lips twitched into a bitter smile. Hashirama found he disliked how it looked on her. "I'm a real monster magnet."

Want.

Hashirama blinked. "You're taking this rather well." But he knew that was a lie, could see it in the dark circles that lined her eyes, in the way she slumped against the wall. Hashirama wasn't sure if the poor creature could make any other expression besides the pained countenance she wore. "I take it I'm not the first," He added instead.

Sakura shook her head slowly, as though the motion was too much for her. "You're definitely one of the more polite ones." She took another look at him and grimaced. His face burned. He felt much like a child getting scolded by his mother. "Looks like the curse did a number on you. Sorry you had to suffer through all of that."

She was so young, the realization erasing any lingering feelings of self-consciousness. Even from where he stood, Hashirama could sense her fragility. Where he had centuries of life—and even more to come—her lifeline was so faint. She only had several decades of life left, and they would be fraught with beings who—

"I'm sorry as well." Sakura stared at him. He'd seen flowers the same shade as her eyes, had cultivated them so they could grow and fill the world with their vibrancy. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Wait for sunrise." She got to her feet, setting the light down. Hashirama made a move to follow her, only to find he was trapped in place. A circle of white grains, almost like white sand or snow, surrounded him. "When it comes," Sakura threw a bag over her shoulder that was nearly thrice her size, "go home. You won't feel any pain from now on."

"Wait—" Hashirama reached for her, and the barrier stopped him again.

"The barrier will hold you there in the meantime." She paused at what Hashirama realized was the exit. "I left you food, water, a blanket, and some bandages. If you don't cross back over at sunrise, you'll have to wait until the next sunset to try again. I made sure there was enough room in there for you to lie down too, but I wouldn't recommend sleeping. You might have a concussion. " Her voice was even, but Hashirama saw the shadow that crossed her face. Felt something within him crack at the way her eyes glistened for a moment from unshed tears. "Thanks for not eating me."

And then she was gone.

Want.

Thanks for reading~