(RECONSTRUCTED)

Summary: There comes a time when you eventually stop looking under the bed for monsters, because you realize that the real monsters are from within. For Sakura, she had known it since the time she gained a small sense of satisfaction from destroying ant hills and bird nests. It wasn't until she met Madara that the monster within her began to stir. He was her Joker as she was his Harley Quinn.

Pairing: MadaSaku

Rating: Mature for violence and possibly future lemons

Word Count: 2,650

Harlequin

"We stopped checking for monsters under our beds when we realized they were inside of us."

—Unknown

Chapter One

There is only so much the human body can withstand before finally breaking, its spirit leaving only an empty corpse with nonfunctional organs and parts. Uchiha Madara knew this very well, and it intrigued him to finding that specific limit of the human body. But of course, every experiment requires a subject—a living human, which was why there was a muffled whimper in the center of the brightly lit room. And after every experiment, there is always repetition of the same experiment again, and again, and again.

It wasn't too difficult to get his hands on a new subject every time. He knew plenty guinea pigs due to his high status in the Uchiha Corporations as well as his high political status. However, every time he convinced one of his lonely coworkers for dinner at his home, there were a few conditions he always had to look out for. For instance, his subjects must be healthy and fit. There were occasions where he accidentally nabbed a sick person. When that happened, he would have to go through the trouble of drugging and dousing them with alcohol and dumping them back on the streets for the police to find a 'lowly drunk bum' screaming in the early dewy mornings. He could easily kill them, but watching them squirm under his gloved hands while he drugged them with hallucinogens was almost equally pleasing.

His lips twitched up slowly in a mischievous smile as he ran a hand through his messy dark locks, maroon eyes flickering towards his subject before turning the stereo up on the wooden table. "Hush now," he held a finger up to his lips and slowly turned to the frightened subject tied up against a wooden chair with dark stains and spots. The subject didn't dare move, dark eyes widening and stilled like an animal caught in headlights. The barbed wire that Madara had bound him with cut deeper into his flesh each time he even let out a labored breath from his nostrils. "This is my favorite song."

Loud orchestral music blasted within the soundproof room as Madara walked towards his bound subject, his steps barely made a sound as Verdi: Requiem Dies Irae grew louder and each horn reached the peak of the crescendo. The man stiffened and bit back a scream, his mouth gagged by a clean rag in contrast to his bloody, sweaty self. Madara's grin widened at the sight.

…

"Why did you do it?" a soft yet stern voice echoed in the room, short petal pink hair framed the psychiatrist's heart-shaped face. Despite this innocent girlish appearance, she was anything but.

Just like how the human body can withstand so much before falling apart, Haruno Sakura found the human mind much more interesting with how it reacted, responded and how it was always changing. She had been offered plenty of positions in the top hospitals in many cities and even countries after showing prowess in the medical field a year after earning her doctorate, however she never took them. Her main interest was in studying and learning more.

This was something many of her close friends and past coworkers could not understand—and neither could she. Her thirst for knowledge about the humankind was startling and almost ravenous. There was never a moment in her life in which she never questioned, why? She could almost always answer the question herself, but the only person she never understood was herself.

And thus after her learning of the human body was over, she had taken a quick switch over to psychology, which in turn landed her a small temporary position working the top psychological hospital that housed the most criminally insane patients.

Her current patient slouched lazily on the cushioned couch, arms and hands free from restraint during his psychotherapy sessions. She believed that if her patients were bound, there would be no trust between doctor and patient—and she craved that bond with every patient before severing it and deeming them sane or insane; fit for civilization or unfit.

Sakura watched cautiously with a bored expression over her blank notebook. All that was written so far was the patient's name and physical description. The rest have yet to be filled out.

She attempted to take a different approach, "You know the human mind interests me." Foreign eyes finally looked at her direction, catching the glimpse of curious viridian eyes staring at him dead on. She continued, "Haven't you always wondered, 'why'? Why is the sky blue? Why do we yawn? Those are all physical things. You can answer physical things, but you can't answer the metaphysical. So," she clicked her pen twice before setting it down on the small table next to her before giving her patient a sickly sweet smile, "I'll ask again… Why did you do it?" She didn't expect him to answer this difficult-to-answer-question. She expected him to squirm under her judgmental eyes like all of her other patients.

…

The muffled screams grew louder over the decrescendo of the music as it ended. Sweat had mixed in with the subject's blood that flowed freely down every little deep cut that been made on his body. The barbed wire had cut deeper into his wrists, torso and ankles to the point where the pain was beginning to feel numb.

Madara frowned, "You're filthy."

He hated dirt, filth and anything bumpy, dusty or sticky. Obviously, his experiments forced him to overcome this hate, but every once in a while his cleanliness overrode his desire to shed more blood. This was one of the few moments.

His nose wrinkled as he turned to grab a now bloodied rag and a bottle of an unknown substance before turning back and grinning madly. "I'll help you clean up those cuts." The tortured man's eyes widened further if possible and shook his head quickly as he saw the bottle of lemon juice. The Uchiha frowned at his action, "You should be thankful I'm doing this for you. I'm just trying to be courteous…"

He poured a good amount of the citric acid onto the bloodied cloth before dabbing it gently at the subject's open wounds only to hear the muffled screams increase in volume. A light sizzling could almost be heard when the acid touched the wounds. The dabbing became rougher and eventually turned into malicious scrubbing until the skin around the wounds was rubbed clean off and raw.

Madara gave a small chuckle and looked at the pathetic shaking man before him, "Simply filthy." He dumped the rest of the bottle onto the now soaked man, emitting a loud yell through the man's covered mouth as the burning liquid seeped into his wounds.

All he could smell now was the citrus permeating the air instead of the previous metallic blood. It was almost floral-like.

…

The session had been almost over and Sakura wasn't surprised that the man revealed nothing to her. Typically, these things took time and unlike the patient in front of her who continually stared at the clock, she had patience. All she could do at the moment was take down notes of his behavior from his left foot silently tapping to his constant staring at the clock and a picture Sakura kept with her in any of her offices.

The picture consisted of her and her closest high school friends: Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke and their consistent homeroom teacher for all of their high school years, Hatake Kakashi. Even after high school and going their separate ways, they still made time to meet up at least once every month to catch up. The more she stared at the picture, the more she saw the similarities between Sasuke and her patient. Both had defining facial features—thin eyebrows, serious eyes and annoyingly jagged hair.

"Do you know him?" she asked curiously, pointing at her stoic friend in the picture with her pen. She wouldn't be surprised if he did know Sasuke. They were blood-related after all.

Silence ensued and he finally looked away from the picture, thinking deeply before changing the subject, "The man that I killed," he said with no shame, looking up at Sakura again and grinned, "He was my friend."

Sakura chose not to write this fact down. She was afraid that if she broke eye contact with the insane prisoner in front of her, she would lose the progress she had with him now. Silently putting down her pen and clipboard, she switched her crossed legs and folded her hands together. "You were friends with the victim, so why did you do it?"

"I was bored."

She concluded that this patient and Sasuke had very similar smirks, only the patient's smirk almost reached his eye.

…

Loud police sirens halted in the background as police shuffled themselves into the dark household, guns in hand as they silently knocked down every door to find the rooms practically empty with little to no furniture. It wasn't until they followed the strange and strong aroma of citrus up into the attic where they found the victim and murderer.

"Drop the weapon and put your hands up."

Madara just grinned madly, maroon eyes scanning all six policemen that aimed their guns as he willingly dropped the bloodied and rusted knife. The clitter-clatter made some of the policemen jump. The Uchiha slowly put his bloodied hands up in the air and let out a cackle, "I guess you caught me red-handed." Unfortunately, none of the policemen chuckled at his dark pun.

At this, a silver haired policeman quickly took the opportunity to slam the laughing murderer into the ground and quickly handcuffed him. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything said can and will be used against you in the court of law." Madara only chuckled at this, maroon eyes glancing up into the officer's single visible onyx eye, his other being covered with a dark eye-patch. He then turned his head from the ground to see his subject rubbed raw from the citrusy scrub he had done, the deep cuts still visible and apparent as well as the cleanly cut off toes and fingers that lay neatly on the blood soaked floor.

"Hatake-san," a dark haired and bushy browed man walked up to the two of them before announcing, "We were too late." Madara smirked at this, staring at the dead corpse. Was it the dismemberment that caused his death? Perhaps it was the pain? He would never know unless he tried again.

…

The scritch-scratch of a ballpoint pen against thick paper could be heard as the seconds ticked away from Sakura's clock that lay stationary on the small table. She had begun scribbling furious notes from only a little information that was given away by her patient. She took analyzing seriously and was determined to figure out this patient. His tapping foot had stopped and his constant stares from the clock and picture were now focused on the pink haired woman.

A small alarm went off, signaling that their session together was over for today, however Sakura held a hand up, "Hold on," she muttered and finished with her notes before locking eyes again, "One last question for now…" A spark of interest flickered in her green eyes, "Why did you let yourself get caught so easily?" It was almost like a child asking why they couldn't have what they wanted.

…

The large courtroom was filled with nervous spectators as they glanced every few seconds towards the obviously guilty man who sat next to his lawyer. They were relieved that he was handcuffed and had law officials at the corner of every room and every door and window in case something were to happen. The only person in the room, who didn't appear to be afraid or nervous other than the grinning madman Madara, was his lawyer Nagato Pein.

"You've really let yourself loose this time Madara-san," Pein narrowed his eyes, face scrunched up in disappointment before sighing and seating himself again. The two of them had been long time friends since college when Madara was supposed to give a political speech, promoting some random politician he didn't care for and showed up thirty minutes late with Pein dragging him in after discovering where he should be. Madara only rolled his maroon eyes.

With a slam of the wooden mallet, the court was brought back to the judge's attention as he cleared his throat, "Uchiha Madara, you are hereby guilty of murder but will be deemed as mentally unstable and will be put in special facilities for the criminally insane for as long as necessary until medical professionals specify otherwise."

The entire legal process of transferring him over to a new area was quick and it did amuse Madara to an extent at how fearful others were of him. On the ride over, the driver had to request another personnel in order to keep watch over Madara from the windows the entire drive just to be sure he had not been doing anything he shouldn't be even though he was already put into a straight jacket.

He could have escaped rather easily by dislocating a shoulder or so, but there was no fun in that. He wanted a challenge. The only reason why Pein and the rest of his coworkers had not done anything to help him thus far is because he simply didn't request it.

The time he had spent in the Konoha City Asylum was roughly about only two months in which doctors and psychiatrists had kept transferring him to others out of sheer fear, or other complications. And now, Madara was stuck with a pink haired psychiatrist who was by far the most interesting thing he had encountered since his murder. Her actions were little, barely noticeable but he mentally noted everything from her crossing legs every four minutes to her always clicking her pen three times before use. Her tiny 'why' speech had secretly gotten him riled up inside, finding it harder to control himself from just enclosing his large hands around her tiny throat.

It wasn't that he wanted to harm her—he wanted to experiment. And from the looks of it, she wanted to experiment with him as well with trivial questions such as asking why he let himself get caught so easily. She knew of his capabilities and had no doubt he could easily harm and kill her in this soundproof office. Regardless, she attempted to ask again, "Madara-san—"

"I already told you didn't I?" he muttered, "I got bored."

Sakura raised an eyebrow and subconsciously clicked her tongue in disapproval at his response. She was about to click her pen to write down his repetition until he interrupted her by reaching over and snatching the pen. "Hey!" she glared at him.

Madara couldn't help but keep his amused grin plastered on his face at her green glare. It was obvious she was not afraid of him, and this made him wonder how long it would take for her to drop his case like all the other doctors and psychiatrists have. He stared down and examined the pen closely and read out loud, "Ha-ru-no Sa-ku-ra," pronouncing and enunciating each syllable of her name as if to bother her. It had worked.

"Dr. Haruno Sakura," she huffed, crossing her arms and continued staring at her patient's actions. She was not afraid of the murderer, but she wasn't stupid enough to let her guard down.

"Sa-ku-ra," he repeated and looked up, maroon eyes flickered in interest. "Did you know if you rearranged the letters of your first name you get 'ka-ra-su'?"

"Karasu—crow?" Sakura rolled her eyes, "How morbidly creative. What about it?"

"A group of crows is called a murder."

…

Reconstructed the first chapter. This took a little longer than I thought so I'll probably be reconstructing each chapter a day or maybe two—depending how long it will be. It may not be all that different, but I added more detail for further development of both characters and took out the Akatsuki bit. You'll see why later on.