A/N: I noticed that there aren't so many MadaSaku fics out there. I'm embarrassed to admit that I'd discovered the pairing only recently. I initially though about writing a time travel fic, but after consideration, I'd thought it troublesome. And most works featuring Madara/Sakura involve that sci-fi phenomenon. I am no good with summaries, but I do hope you give this one a try. Again, if you don't like the pairing, then you are obviously on the wrong page. Here goes nothing...
Zero
Spring.
The cherry blossom trees were in full bloom, showering everything with its pink petals. What was normally a beautiful sight seemed to mock her, a spiteful reminder of the cruel ephemerality of life. Today was no different from that day.
"Ne, Sasuke, I really did it this time, didn't I?" Sakura smiled wanly, sitting down on the mausoleum floor. A solitary tear streaked her cheek as she placed a bouquet of white roses beside his tomb.
It took her an entire year to finally visit his grave. She had no right to be near him, to be in the presence of anything that remained of him. Her friends and family told her otherwise, but she knew it was her fault. The blame was hers to bear.
"It's you who couldn't make it this time," she muttered softly. A muffled sob escaped her lips. "I won't bother asking for forgiveness; I don't deserve it. For what it's worth, happy third anniversary, my love."
Minutes turned into hours, and the concrete grew colder against her back. The sun had long since set. Perhaps she was overstaying her welcome. She cast a longing glance at the edifice that housed her beloved's body. Focus and determination reigned in her eyes as she sped away from the cemetery.
An emergency was abruptly shoved in her face before she could even set foot in the hospital. "What have we got here?"
"Broken ribs. Collapsed lungs and a ruptured spleen," the policeman reported.
Sakura touched the man's bleeding forehead while maintaining her brisk pace. "Has the family been informed?"
The uniformed officer shook his head. "Unfortunately, we've found no identification on the victim. HQ is running through the database as we speak. Until then…"
"All right. Ultrasound, X-ray, 12-chem, type and cross-match. We need to drain the lungs and spleen." Sakura calmly issued orders as her subordinates began working on the operating table. She'd managed to drain the punctured organs and stop the bleeding. The patient's vital signs were stabilizing slowly but surely.
She was denied a moment's respite, as another stretcher came rolling into her view. She hurriedly followed the team of medics as they rushed toward the adjacent operating room.
"Okay, let's ge—" She froze, her eyes being the only part of her capable of movement. The scalpel slipped from her trembling hand, clamoring at its landing.
"Sakura-san?"
Noting the surprise and urgency on the other surgeon's face, the pink-haired woman snapped out of her trance. She cursed mentally and retrieved another scalpel. Not now. You swore it wouldn't happen again, she reminded herself.
"Arterial lines set. Tubes, now."
"Request for three units of O neg."
"Heart rate 110-210. Blood pressure 95/55 mmHg. We've sterilized the wound."
"We'll be needing more than that. TEE confirms a foreign body in the left atrium."
Sakura faced the patient once more, letting out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. It was a boy, no more than ten years old. Despite the age difference, the striking resemblance was plain. Blue-tinted ink fringes that greatly contrasted his pale complexion framed his elegant visage. A strong jaw paired with an aristocratic nose, artful eyebrows bordering what she discerned to be heavy-lidded eyes, thin yet somewhat full masculine lips...all of these screamed 'Sasuke.'
Were the gods inflicting the punishment she so deserved? Or was this a chance to redeem herself? Convincing herself that the latter was the correct answer of the two, she proceeded to removing the shrapnel.
Red flooded her vision. Blood. Blood. Blood. She was exercising utmost carefulness. As she'd learned firsthand, a single misstep could, no, will lead to death. And she cannot afford that. After performing a transverse incision in the apex of the left atrium, she successfully extracted the bullet lodged in his heart. Remorse filled her as she set aside the invading object. For someone so young…to sustain such an injury? It was beyond heart-rending.
"Running sutures."
"Blood pressure lowering. Heart rate still elevated."
The other surgeons started clearing out of the room, giving her smiles and congratulatory words. She sighed in relief. He didn't die, unlike Sasuke. She saved him. She actually saved him.
"I wonder if they're related," she mumbled absentmindedly as she watched the rise and fall of the unconscious boy's chest. Had her and Sasuke's union borne an offspring, this was probably what it would look like. She decided that the child would inherit her eye color. Pink locks like hers might be a tad severe. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes once more. She instantly lamented her train of thought. ''How silly of me,' she chided herself.
Without realizing it, she had fallen asleep on his bedside.
ѻѺѻ
He woke up to the rhythmic beeping of medical apparatuses. He immediately registered the smell of antiseptic, the bare walls, and the catheter jutting out of his wrist. The anesthetics are wearing off, he mused as piercing sensations came in scintillas coursing through every cell of his body. Shifting his posture on the hospital bed, he noticed something strange about his proportions.
The nurse's reaction to his awakening confirmed his suspicions. He clenched his teeth and growled under his breath.
"How is he?" a feminine voice said. A woman with pink hair burst through the door, looking for all the world as though she'd cured cancer. He lifted a brow as she neared him. 'Does she know who I am?'
Pinky was smiling widely at him. "I see you're awake, kid. How are you feeling?" she asked.
He folded his arms over his chest. 'This obnoxious pinkette,' he thought darkly. He didn't fail to notice the tantalizing glimmer of her seafoam eyes, or the sly curl of her sultry rosy lips. In short, he found her beautiful. Beautiful, intelligent albeit irritating.
"Woman, tell me how I arrived in this facility," he demanded coldly.
She flinched, retreating slightly to the backrest of her chair. Good. Her soft natterings of 'What are the odds...so like him...unbelievable' fell upon his ears. He stared at her incredulously as tears brimmed in her eyes. 'How fragile. Abhorrent.'
To his surprise, her smile remained plastered on her face. "I'm sorry," she giggled while dabbing her tears. "You were found in a car crash yesterday morning. Your...uh, companion is safe, as well. He's in the next room." Her eyes drifted across his petite form and settled on his midsection. "You're recovering nicely from the heart surgery. I hope you're not in so much pain."
"I am grateful," he drawled.
"Just doing my job," she chirped. "What's your name, little boy? Can you tell me who and where your parents are?"
He uncrossed his arms. Little boy? "I'm Madara. If you must know, the woman who birthed me lies six feet beneath the earth. My sire is probably soaking up brine at the bottom of the Mediterranean."
She bit her lip. "Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. Do you have any relatives?"
He answered her with a snort. She seemed not to take his rude response to heart. She leaned closer to his face, making his facial hair elevate slightly. "Madara. You have such strange red eyes. I mean, they're beautiful."
He allowed himself a tiny smirk. People rarely characterized the hereditary trait in the manner she had. Weird. Terrifying. Freak. Devil's spawn. He could care less. Such supposed insults, if anything, were music to his ears, a testament to the terror he inspired. He was feared, he knew that all too well. Yet this woman...
"You're an Uchiha, aren't you?" she suddenly asked.
The corners of his mouth turned up slightly. "Observant wench. Who might you be?"
Insult disregarded, yet again. "I'm Sakura. Sakura Uchiha. Head of surgery."
He smirked slyly. "Uchiha. One of Fugaku or Kagami's sons, I assume."
"You're awfully knowledgeable, for someone your age," she said as she thumbed through her hair in thought. 'Not to mention, a bit disrespectful,' she added silently. "Your speech pattern says richly educated. How old are you? Eight?"
"I assure you, I am a man grown." He glowered at her. The cotton candy brat was beginning to irk him with her insistence on treating him like a child.
"So adorable. Of course you are." She pinched his nose gently. The nerve of this woman!
"When will I be released?" he inquired sharply while pushing her hand away, holding back the urge to uproot all of the hair on her pretty head.
"Tomorrow, at the earliest. You'll need a guardian, though. I'll contact Itachi right away."
He narrowed his eyes. "Don't bother inconveniencing him."
"Hold on a sec," she said to him as she raised her phone to her ears.
"Damned woman," he grumbled.
"Oh, I see. I understand. Thank you so much, Inabi." Sakura sighed and pocketed her phone.
"I told you so," he deadpanned.
She blinked twice. "I'm sorry, you were saying? By the way, looks like Itachi won't be able to get you tomorrow."
He waved off her concern. "He won't be necessary. I can manage on my own."
"No, I can't allow it. I won't let a child wander off alone," she replied with vehemence.
"You will discharge me," he all but commanded. He was a man of patience, but this impudent female was thinning his reserves with ease. She had the gall to defy him and look him in the eye. Her prolonged exposure to her husband, whoever he may be, must have rendered her immune to the Uchiha's heated yet cold glares.
"No," she firmly insisted. "Quit being so stubborn."
His face darkened as the battle of wills continued. "And you'll have me extend my residence in this whitewashed prison?"
She backed away slightly, still unblinking, much to his chagrin. She felt distraught, of course, having to confine the poor child in a place like this. It was necessary, however. Procedures and rules had to be followed. Her eyes then glistened with recognition, and a soft smile graced her lips. "Why don't you stay with me?" she suggested.
He scoffed. "Come again?"
She scrunched up her face, pouting her lips slightly. "Stay at my place. Technically, I am an Uchiha. I'll be your guardian."
"You're an Uchiha," he parroted back to her, a hint of mockery coating his tone.
She brushed away the raven strands covering his right eye. The contact sent a strange tingle down his spine. Curious. Meeting her eyes for the nth time, he glimpsed the unbridled happiness in her verdant irises. Curious indeed.
She glanced at her wristwatch and frowned. Blinding him with her radiant smile, she gave him a peck on the forehead. "I'll be back soon. Behave, okay, Madara?"
His eyes followed her as she exited the room. He chuckled. A warm, genuine laugh, one he hadn't heard in years. The pitch was off due to his underdeveloped voice box, but it bothered him not in the slightest. Perhaps his predicament was not such a terrible one. A childish grin spread across his features. "Sa-ku-ra. You are one interesting cherry blossom."
Fin.
Reviews? Do warn me if my characterizations are going overboard. Constructive criticism, as always, will be very much appreciated.
-Pluie Mauve