Day Six: [theme: elemental] tidal / ocean / storm / haunted / forest / island / nature / night

A/N: AU where the shinobi world slowly died off, taking their technology with them, chakra becoming redundant and rarely used, and the main characters being reincarnated multiple times. Not yet a modern AU though. Kind mid-1800s if you want an estimate of technology. Also, Sakura is kind of a pirate. Because why not.


Haruno Sakura cursed as she skidded across the ship deck. The storm of the century was currently raging, and, stupidly, she ordered her crew to set sail. Now most of them were dead and the few clinging to life were probably not going to survive the night. Oh, she'd never hear the end of this if she survived. She could just hear Sasuke's smug 'i told you so'.

"Captain!" One of her crew shouted. Sakura turned to look at them. A large bolt of lightning struck the ship and then it was creaking and groaning and breaking apart, launching her over the railing. Sakura screamed as she sped towards the water. Then she hit the water and pain exploded in her head, sending her unconscious.


He was like fire and ice; rage and calm; the danger in the dark. He'd been banished from his homeland for comitting the act of attempting to murder the Fire Country's King, his once-friend Hashirama, and was forced to inhabit an abandoned island in the middle of the ocean. He wouldn't have minded if the island was tropical. But this island was covered in a large, ominous, forest that was almost constantly shrouded in dark mist, and the winter lasted for most of the year. The overall temperature year-round was freezing. It had been many years since that day. He would be around ninety now, if his calculations were correct, yet he he still looked the same as he did all those years ago. Barely twenty-five.

He was lonely. And he hated it. It had been close to seventy years since he'd seen another person. Why is it now that he craves the presence of another? A shiver jolted through him and he tugged his fur coat closer to his body. With a few dexterous twitches of his fingers, and a sharp exhale, the firewood before ignited. It wasan old technique that he'd taken from the royal Uchiha scroll room, mere days before he'd been exiled. His shining red eyes stared deep into the fire, the tomoe of his Sharingan (another ancient Uchiha technique) spinning lazily, memorizing each flick of the flames.


She washed up on the shores of the island one stormy night. The rain was freezing as he picked his way through the debris of what must have once been a beautiful ship, towards the flickering, alive, blue glow of the woman. He bent next to her and brushed her soaked, pink, hair out of her face. A large bruise covered most of her face and her expensive looking clothes were ripped, cuts and gashes littering her form. His Sharingan spun as he pressed his fingers lightly into her chest, channelling his chakra into them, eliciting a soft gasp and a sputter, water running down past her lips. He scanned over the debris, looking for more survivors, and, finding none, gently lifted the pink-haired woman up from the drenched sand. He gave one last glance around before stalking off into the surrounding woods.


Sakura slowly rose to consciousness. She cracked open her green eyes. Soft footsteps padded across wooden floors, and she turned her head to look. A man was crouching next to her. He had long spiky black hair and his eyes were bright red and had odd, comma like, shapes in them.

"You're awake." He said, his deep voice sliding over her like velvet. "Good." He grabbed her arm and carefully began unwrapping scraps of fur tied tightly to her. "You were heavily injured and may have a concussion." He lifted a hand and his fingers glowed green. "My medical techniques are not very strong, unfortunately." He ran his glowing fingers down her arm and Sakura's eyes widened when she noticed a few of the minor cuts were sealing shut. He patted her arm lightly and rewrapped the furs. He shifted a bit and reached for something just outside her vision. "You must be thirsty." He brought a cup to her lips and she drank the warm, sweet tasting liquid greedily. Soon the cup was empty and he placed it on the floor next to him. "My name is Uchiha Madara."

"I'm Haruno Sakura." She struggled to sit up. "What was that thing you did, with the glowing fingers?" He curled his fingers.

"I merely used one of the Ancient Shinobi Arts, known as medical ninjutsu." Sakura's jaw dropped as he snapped his fingers and made a spark of fire appear. Madara smirked and stood, moving towards the fireplace. Sakura watched, entranced, as he twisted his hands into odd shapes. He sucked in a breath and let out a stream of fire.

"Wha...what...?" He grabbed the firepoker and moved the burning wood around a bit.

"That was the Katon: Gokakyu, albeit a much smaller form." He turned to her and she could have sworn that the commas in his eyes were spinning. "Perhaps, when you are healed, I shall teach you a few techniques." Sakura's eyes widened.

"R-Really?" He shrugged.

"There is not much to do on my island." He locked his eyes with hers, his Sharingan tomoe circling hypnotically. "Sleep." Her eyes slowly closed.


She washed up on the shores of his domain one stormy night. His Sharingan shifted patterns as he watched her rest. She would remain on the island with him. The new circles in his eyes spun as he spiked his chakra into them. Just a little incentive to stay. He chuckled. Forever.