300 BC Judea
Woman rarely worked in the fields, but it was not unheard of to see a female trailing behind the harvesters, gathering what little was dropped. A subject of charity, such women rarely showed their faces with much pride.
She was not most woman.
Maybe it was because she was such a beauty, or maybe because she was strong enough to carry enough grain for a man twice her size, but for whatever reason, she did not look away when Madara's servant asked her to state her name. She didn't look to the servant, even though he was above a beggar such as herself as far as station was concerned. Instead she looked up to those beautiful red eyes of his as they absorbed ever detail of her from atop his decorated steed.
Her eyes bewitched him and her voice entrapped his soul so completely that sleep would not come to him for two full days, even with drink.
"I must have her," he whined into the darkness of his empty palace, feeling so oddly helpless.
It was weeks before he reigned in the courage to defy the social norms that told him a noble could never marry a servant woman from another country, especially not when she was promised to another. But when he went into his fields, she was not there. The next day he returned to similar circumstances.
The constriction in his chest, as his heart stalled like a lame wheel, tormented him through the night. The pain did no ease when his servant told him his angel had returned to her homeland to marry another man. There would be no mercy for him and his house. The pain only intensified when he learned that she was quite happy with the lucky bastard of a merchant's son.
402 AD Rome
His legion was a wild bunch, not know for their kindness, but rather their efficiency in battle. At their head was the most brutal of them all, a merciless creature of black that killed with the ease of breathing. He was a man many respected, and more feared. The sight of his visage inspired fear, and he thought he relished that.
But, she was not afraid of him. Her Mediterranean eyes of swimming green opened a new world in his heart. He could not easily as he stood at the foot of her temple, under her gaze. The other priestesses had all fled at the sound of his sandals on stone.
"Why have you remained?" he asked, wanting to hear her voice more than her answer.
"Why have you come to the temple of Vesta?" she countered with a raised brow that made the spirits in his belly lift.
He removed his helmet and knelt at the base of the stairs, under her watchful gaze. "Pray dear virgin, grant me favor among the gods in your prayers."
"The goddesses of the hearth shall have little to offer the men of war, I am afraid, good centurion." Her voice wrapped around his spirit and electrified him.
"Then let me pray to you for kindness and favor in your presence. I dare not view any god of stone to be above yourself in my eyes." He loved the way her eyes widened at her blasphemy, but hated how she ran from him.
He should have taken her with him then, stolen her in the night. Leaving her temple that day was the worst mistake he had ever made in his long carrier, and holding her bloodied body after the Gaul raid was the most pain his heart had ever felt.
1180 AD Japan
The haunting figure of an avenging angel silenced the world for a breath before her blade competed its downward journey through the neck of an enemy solider. Her form was superb, beautiful and terrifying in it's flawlessness. No man could hope to compete with that, Madara mused from his place in the mud.
Her savior glanced his way, nodded towards him without speaking. Flicking the stray blood from her short blade, she turned, ready to rejoin the horrifying battle elsewhere, but he couldn't allow that.
"Your name!" he climbed to his feet, ignoring the way his armor weighed him down. "Please tell me."
She held the gaze of his eyes for a long moment before answering. "You are Uchiha sama. My name is Sakura Haruno." She finished with a sharp bow in his direction even though it was not necessary.
His hear sunk as he remembered the name that had never been matched with a face. "Sakura hime? Then you are the daimyo's wife, Pein sama."
Her eyes softened and his anger flared. "Yes," she answered in soft confirmation. That was expected, as their love was legendary. Pein sama would not take another woman as his mistress or concubine, even though his wife waged war beside him, risking the possibility of leaving him without an heir.
"Are you uninjured?" he suddenly asked with concern, seeing red seeping out of her side to taint the peach color of her armor's undergarments.
She waved off his worry as if it were nothing. "It is not all mine. I thank you for your concern, but it is misplaced. Save worry for your own fate."
"Oh, but I do," he chuckled. "If anything were to happen to the Hime, I am afraid our fearless leader would not lead so fearlessly. And that, would not bode well for those who are under him."
She laughed, and it was life bells dancing in the wind. "Well put. I will not die until this war is well won, I shall swear it."
"I will hold you to it."
Sakura Haruno was good on her word, dying of an ill-fated arrow to her lung as they marched into the city with victory beyond dispute. Pein did not collapse, but turned into a much harder man with harsher emotions that would torment him for the rest of his days.
1322 Florence, Italy
The fresco was unlike any other he had the privilege of viewing. The goddess Aphrodite had been adapted to many different styles and various forms, but none so detailed as the one Madara found himself trapped in front of. There was something almost familiar about her beauty and her pride. She was nothing more than a painting, but she seemed so alive.
"You too are captivated, cousin?" Shisui commented, approaching his mute family member. "You are not the first."
"Who is the model?" There was no room for idle chatter, only urgency.
Shisui shrugged. "I know not her name, but the artist has already wooed the poor woman so senselessly. No riches or finesse I, or yourself, possess could ever sway her. Believe me, I have tried."
"Where?" Madara turned to stare at his cousin with such urgency, the youth was concerned.
"It would not be wise. She is won and the world we live in would no be one you would wish to drag such a goddess down into." As if for emphasis, Shisui pulled back his soft white robes to show the blades he hid for precise assignations. "We are devils and she is an angel. No not confuse the two."
But Madara would not listen, and obtained the address from a street boy. From a distance he saw the divine in motion as she moved about the streets with a smile on her face. Her husband, a pretty red haired boy, emerged from their humble dwellings to greet her with a kiss Madara envied.
"Leave her be," his cousin whispered from the shadows, too well hidden to be spotted from any figure below them on the crowded streets. "There will be others."
But there were no other women like her; only other times with her in their many lives.
1790 England
He had hated such parties, but before the hour was up, he began to reassess his position on such affairs. He spied her across the room, dressed in the prettiest smile as her friend was whisked away by another officer in bright red.
"Hold this," Madara told his brothers son, passing off his half finished wine glass without another glance. Itachi raised his brow, but remained silent as Madara crossed the room to where she stood beside another finely dressed gentleman.
They had not been introduced, but her reputation preceded her. No other could be the village beauty of this little backwater hove of a town.
"May I have this dance, fair lady?"
She turned with a dazzling smile to take in his appearance, memorizing the details to memory, before accepting his outstretched hand. "Mr. Uchiha," she purred in a laugh that made the room light.
The flirting steps and moves of their dance failed to fully convey his interest, but those good manners he had been brought in kept him from spilling his heart to the angel that seemed so perfect in front of him. Her hands fit too nicely into his own and she moved to gracefully to match any other man.
"I feel as if I have known you before," he mused, as they came together among the complex steps.
"I dare say that would be a poor excuse to start a conversation on. You shall have to try harder if you would like me to reply when on the dance floor," she coyly supplied, smiling in spite of herself.
"Are you sure we have never met before, in London perhaps? I often visit Bath on holiday when the sun become too warm for Kent."
She laughed, eyes closing in giddy joy. "No, I am afraid. Unless you have visited Cranford before, you have never met me, Mr. Uchiha. You must try harder to entertain me."
"You have the most beautiful eyes."
The song stilled and the dancers all settled into their rows before lowering into bows and curtsies. When she lifted her eyes, there was not the enjoyed glimmer he hoped to see. She was pleasant to him, the rest of the night. But, he knew when he took his hate and coat that her heart was not his, and his forward praises had only served to deter her.
Itachi was the poor soul who was stuck with his uncle when he heard the news from Bleak House. Two vases and a table did not survive the revelation.
"I make ten times what that low life could ever amass. What does she see in him when I made my affections so appropriately apparent? She knew I was…and yet…" Madara stalled and then sank into his chair, letting the paper with her name next to the clergyman's fall to the floor.
1939 Hamburg, Germany
He watched her ankles snap and jump away from one another as she swung her arms down and around before tapping backwards in time to the beat the big band was blaring. Her eyes were bright and her smile brighter as the swing music choked the room with forbidden pleasure.
He swallowed, shaking a bit as he reached for his drink, only to find it already emptied. He cursed, replacing the empty glass. He really didn't think it was odd he was there when he couldn't very well dance to such loud music, because she was there. He wasn't a stalker, (he wasn't) but he would admit to be an ardent admirer of the girl he had discovered only weeks ago.
They had talked twice since then, but she had waved to him from across the dance floor while she waited for someone to dance with. He wished it could have been him she was waiting for, but her little Nazi boyfriend with the too long blond hair was the fellow she fancied.
The blond kid was the one twirling her and tossing her about like a bird in flight, never knowing just what a precious angel he possessed.
"I hate him," Madara grumbled, tracing the rim of his glass with his forefinger. "What the hell is so good about a creep like him anyway. So what if he can dance?"
"You could always try to learn," his brother Izuna offered, playing with his own, half finished glass. "I am sure she would dance with you then."
Madara just groaned. "No she wouldn't. You can't see how beautiful she is. She's a love to the eyes, and I'm just a…well I'm no officer, that's for sure."
"She only likes him because she's a nurse, and he's someone clumsy enough to need her help," Madara's brother offered once more, trying to be helpful.
The dark haired man sighed, longingly into his hand. "I wish she would let me hold her like that. If only she would I would never let her go, not for anything in the world."
"You won't be holding onto anything unless you try. Wait till the song ends and then…bump into her on accident or something. Don't whine about it anymore. I don't know how much more I can stand form you."
The brass instruments screamed a climax to their piece just as the whistles blared for the officers to come in and storm the sinful facility that would land more than one person in a rehabilitation camp.
1950, America, North Carolina
"You sure you don't need a ride, sweet thing?" Madara asked from behind the staring wheel of his shiny new 1949 Mercury.
Sakura turned up her nose at the ride and the driver. "I don't take company with greasers, sorry."
"Aww, why not, now?" he asked, keeping his car t a slow enough pace that he wouldn't overtake her or let her pass him up. "I don't bite any, and I'm completely harmless. Besides, it's a long way to anywhere worth going from here. One ride can't hurt."
"My mother would disapprove."
He grinned wide. "Would she now? I won't tell if you won't, love. It could be our little secret."
She stopped on her heel and turned to look him dead in the eye as he stopped his own car. "You are so full of yourself, you know that? Leave me alone already and find some other cheep girl to take on a drive. I'm not interested, obviously!"
"You're so cute when you're angry. You can yell at me some more if you want, I'll enjoy it," he chuckled, resting his head against the wheel while watching her fume and huff about in a familiar way.
It was the best reason to tease her in school outside of science and world history before and after lunch break. He would tease her during that break too, if he could, but as was often the case, his boy buddies wouldn't let him go for hardly a moment. So, he had to make himself content with watching her eat her lunch from a distance. That was okay for a while, until he saw that punk jock Kiba ask her to sit with his friends. Kiba wasn't much of a threat when it came to a mind like Sakura, but his friend Neji was, and the two were having lunch too often together for Madara to feel unthreatened.
"Why can't you just leave me alone? I've never done anything to you or your friends, I stay out of your way as best I can but…" she stopped and looked away from the road where he coasted. She tried to hide it, but he heard it when she swallowed her tears.
He was out of his parked car in an instant, running around so she faced him. She pulled from his hands, but he held her firmly enough to get a good look at her face.
"You're crying. I made you upset."
She chuckled without humor. "You always make me upset, Madara."
"No, please don't say that, love. I never meant to…"
"Don't call me that," she sighed, letting a breath go that was too loud and short for her liking. He could tell by how ashamed she was that being strong was her nature. She didn't break like this very often, and it pained him to know that he was partly responsible for her grief.
"You can hit me if you want."
She looked up at him with wide eyes. "What?"
He grinned rakishly, tilting his head to one side, showing off the best of his face and its beautiful curves. "Yeah, slap me. I'll take it, hell I might even enjoy it from a spitfire like you. Admit it, you want to hit me, don't you?"
She grimaced. "You're a freak, Madara Uchiha. Why would anyone in their right mind want me to hit them?"
"Frankly, love, I would be over the blasted moon if you would just touch me. I'm already dining with the stars tonight because of this conversation, but I always did believe in setting your goals high."
Seemingly lost, Sakura shook her head and sighed, looking up towards the open sky before glancing back at hi eyes without flinching. He probably loved that best about her. How she stared him in the eye and saw so deeply into him. He couldn't explain it well, but it was like they had some history between the two of them. She was familiar looking into him, and he was comfortable with the exposure.
"You are still a greaser and I still think you're crazy."
"Only crazy for you, sweet thing."
"Ugh!" she groaned, wriggling free from his hold and ducking around him. "Get a life!"
He laughed and chased after her, going only as far as a few yards before he stopped to wait by his car. Sticking his hands into the pockets of his loose leather jacket he watched her leave, satisfied with what he had gotten from her, a conversation and the feeling of her hands in his.
He touched his fingers to his lips and blew her a kiss when she turned back to look at him, winking for a little something extra. She pretended to gag and turned down a side path across an open field she was familiar with.
"Awww, she knows she loves it," he hummed, way to happy to act normal the rest of the day.
It was enough to sustain him over the weekend.
But, when Sakura wasn't in Science or world history on Monday, or Tuesday, or Wednesday, he began to sink real low. Low enough to get caught fighting in back of the school with that stupid jock Kiba and his football buddies. He was real sour the rest of the week and unbearable the weekend.
Eagerly, he walked into class the next Monday, only to feel sick five minutes in when their teacher told them his sweet had moved with her family to Virginia.
2015, New York
He waited, patiently and positively, never allowing his disposition to falter or appear disagreeable to the other present guests. That wasn't hard at all considering the only other members who were still sober were Itachi, Sasori, Sakura, and himself. The red head artist was content to brood in a corner, while Itachi struggled to manage Kisame. Sakura was stuck with Deidara who was a sloppy as ever before passing out on the floor next to Konan.
She laughed and looked up, holding the base of her back like it was sore, even though he knew it wasn't. He caught her eye and tilted his head to the back of the room where the patio was, knowing it was her favorite part of his high rise city apartment.
Stepping over her fallen friends, she grabbed her own glass of sparkling cider, before latching onto his arm and following him outside to enjoy of the city at night.
"God, they're a handful. I can't imagine going through highschool with half of them," Sakura laughed, falling into a cushioned chair.
"Hidan did manage to get his friends into plenty of trouble, but everyone survived," Madara answered, as smooth and collected as ever. He didn't sit, but chose to remain standing close by.
"Oh, I bet. I've only know you all for little over a year now and yet I'm still so freaking surprised by the lot of them every time I come over. You actually amaze me, Madara, being so calm among such chaos."
"One can only try," he murmured over the rim of his own glass before taking a reserved sip. "However, I must admit to the company being far more delightful once you entered the fray. There is less of a headache after they are drunk and I'm stuck talking to the stick up Sasori's ass and Itachi's mood swings."
Sakura hummed, glancing out into the city's landscape with a wonder in her tone. "I am glad I could be of service to you, Mr. Uchiha. I truly enjoy the company of all of you."
The much older businessman paused, studying her tired eyes for a moment before speaking up. "Have you been sleeping well, Sakura? You look tired. If I had known this I would have made you stay at home and rest, rather than come here and bother with our kind."
Sakura smiled, as kindhearted as ever, and shook her head. "No, it's nothing. I've just been having these odd dreams lately. They're kind of bizarre, actually."
"Was I in any of them?" he asked with a teasing wink that could have been flirty.
"You were actually," she answered, bring out a more interested and serious expression from the male in front of her. "I dreamt of you last night, but you were a greaser and you teased me."
"A greaser you say? Was I hott and sexy?"
Sakura couldn't help but go red in the face as she answered. "Yeah, I guess so. You had short spiky hair slicked back and you wore these sick leather jackets all the time, but you didn't dance and sing in public like the movies."
"Thank God for that," he commented with a smile. "What did I do in your dream, aside from be awesome and dazzlingly handsome?"
"You teased me in school, but I think I liked it."
"Sakura, I had no idea you were into that sort of thing," he teased. Madara lowered himself into a chair opposite from her, choosing to lean forward so they were close as well as eye level. "However, now that I think about it, that sounds like something I might have done in my youth if I liked a girl."
The green-eyed girl shrugged, taking another long sip of her drink before going on. "Yeah, well it was a weird dream since I moved away and then died of polio after marrying Itachi, who wasn't related to you in this dream."
"Ohh, now I get it, you have the hotts for my nephew, do you? Fine, I'll leave you two love puppies to it and just drown my sorrows in what is left of the martinis," he joked, pretending to get up and cry.
Sakura protested and tugged on his arm, laughing at him to come sit back down. Forgetting his old seat, he snuggled in next to Sakura on the same seat, throwing an arm behind her to cushion her head. She smiled up at him and he winked. "Comfy, love?"
"I am, thank you."
He swallowed. "Did you enjoy your drink?"
She waved her empty glass in front of him. "It was tasty, thanks. You should have tried some instead of your booze, it tasted fruity."
Almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth did Sakura regret speaking them.
She sucked in a shallow breath as Madara murmured an 'excuse me' before leaning in and tasting her lips. Startled she mewed into the kiss, while he relished it with a pleased sound. All around her the night life hummed with muted excitement.
Sakura was near breathless when they broke away, having moved so that he hovered over her. His eyes were alive and intense as they held fast to her own.
"I…hope you didn't mind, love," he whispered into her hair. "But, I've been waiting to do that for a while now."
Sakura grinned up at him. "I'll forgive you if you do it again."
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.
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Happy Birthday StormDragon666
(This is for her)
I meant to have this uploaded last night but my internet was not working from my computer so I had to put it on a thumb drive and transport it to a different computer, upload the document, and then published this piece from there. Such a bother, I must say. I wanted to do something a bit more silly and fun like my older works, with Sakura being chased around by love sick fools, but I was in a history mood and decided it would probably be better to just get that out of the way and make sure I don't write something huge and expansive again.