Chapter 1: Aftershock

"Who shot that arrow in your throat?
Who missed the crimson apple?
It hung heavy on the tree above your head."

-Red Wine by The Hush Sound

Madara

Aftershock, it is a feeling of revelation, when adrenaline crashes and an event catches up with you. I've had the feeling once or twice, realizing after a long sleep what I did the night before –none of it having anything to do with getting drunk, mind you-, and then having to wake up, greet the morning and wash the blood from my hands and move on. I didn't allow Sakura to feel the aftershock, I gave her medicines, let her sleep through the days and had the blood and dirt washed from her body. When she awoke, she was caught in the last stage: moving on. Either way, when I first saw her emerge from her rooms she looked so horridly broken.

Fighting back tears. Pushing people away. So delightfully human of her.

The death of her lover had taken its toll upon my kunoichi –really how did that no fun stoic find such a devoted lover?- to the point where I must take matters into my own hands. I hired maids, ones who wake her in the morning, make sure she eats and dresses, and sends her on her merry way into the village every morning. I'd often see her walking aimlessly around; looking around the falling country she'd inherited. My kunoichi had a kind sort of heart, seeing all this death and decay would take its own toll then she'd wake up and take action.

She had the power to fix it. Willpower, however, we were getting there.

She had started redeveloping a habit of it walking, stopping and healing a willing civilian, or young ninja, with minor injuries. Then she started asking about the hospital, then she was informed it was falling apart and more people were dying and then. . .I had Sakura back in her game.

My plan had worked, I'd finally had someone to talk to, but still she was devastated over Itachi –big surprise. This also prompted her to stay on my good side because of our deal. No insults were thrown my way, no little fits (only big ones when I really ticked her off) she was still my work in progress.

Sasuke shifted on the mattress on the floor, the traditional Amegakure morning, cold and dark, and peaked his dark eyes open to look around.

Everything around us was dark, secluded. Sasuke sat up and looked around cave, running his fingers through his hair he tried to recall yesterday's events. His emotions played so easily across his face, when it hit him. His own aftershock:

He'd killed Itachi.

A slow, satisfied smirk crossed his lips and I found myself smirking as well, if he'd no problem getting his hands dirty with the blood of his own brother, then he wouldn't mind the little tasks I had set up for him and my dearest Sakura. But, for what Sasuke seemed to think, for him it was all over now, he'd avenged his clan and the traitor was dead.

Then his expression changed and he looked. . .puzzled. Another painfully annoying detail stuck in his mind. I saw his thoughts as clearly as he was thinking them. Something had gone wrong during his short lived victory. With the last blow someone had called out to Itachi. . .someone with pink hair. . .

He covered his face with his hand and stared into the darkness.

Images of Sakura covered in Itachi's lifeblood danced across our minds. Her screams, her cries, her pink hair stained red, her soul visibly broken in her eyes.

Sakura. . .The very thought of my kunoichi in such a state –proud, strong Sakura covered in her comrade's lifeblood crying- was almost enough to cause a wave of gooseflesh over my body. It didn't seem right, like a nightmare, unnatural, something that didn't happen.

But it did and now we were all paying the deadly consequence for Sakura's talented lying skills and my even deadlier plans.

"You know you're lucky," I said and Sasuke's head swiveled in the direction of it to see me –nothing but a dark figure with an orange mask covering a face most would die to see.

"What?"

"I said you're lucky that I'm in need of your assistance. Or else, I would have killed you for breaking Sakura-hime's already severed heart." I withdrew a kunai and knelt beside him before beginning to tend to his injuries.

Let the games begin.

Sakura

I will love him.

Respect him.

Help him.

Until death. . .

Protecting fidelity. . .

I swear. . .

I sighed heavily, letting the motion pull down my shoulders and the corners of my mouth. For some reason wedding vows kept repeating in my head. . .maybe it was because I'd never say them, or because of the fact I'd learned them the day I first went to a shrine with Itachi.

There was a shrine here in this village too, but it wasn't the same. The architecture was all wrong, the crumbling walls, the non-chaste priest. I'd already set a project forward to repair it, changing the style completely I'd chatted with the architect on traditional and new styles. It'd look much more like the one in Konohagakure if I continued redirecting this. They demanded a statue of me be built in it too. . .I allowed them.

But next to the shrine was a small cluster of graveyards, most of them new, but one caught my attention and held it in place. It was a smooth marble slab protruding from the earth bared his name and, under it, his body. It looked an aweful lot like Chiyo's back in Sunagakure, but the sight made me want to break. . .

Uchiha Itachi was chiseled into the stone by Kisame.

I feel no peace from the sight of it. The villagers wonder why I come by so often, but I don't care. Amegakure has a theocracy government –they view me, their leader, as a god come down to save them all. Even Madara, even though he was rarely here, was viewed as a deity.

My maids have even taken to dressing me like royalty, though I refused to be too flashy, or wear any of the pretty pink silk kimonos Madara sent from wherever it is he was always running off to. My black ninja dress was mournful, it swallowed me whole, but you could bet it was made out of the finest material. The the leather of my boots were foreign and long lasting. That compared to the villagers, I had the simplest, most wonderful, life.

I lay new flowers on the stone, along with the carving of his name; though I wasn't sure Itachi would want flowers on his grave. . .he'd never seemed like the type of person who would. But either way I'd laid pink water lilies on the top of the headstone.

A cool chill blew through me and I pulled my cape tighter around me –my black and red Akatsuki cape, I'd cut off the sleeves. I ran my fingers through my bangs –the rest of it was pulled into two neat and orderly braids and then a bun the maids had styled it in. I didn't care it kept it out of my eyes.

I don't want to say good-bye. . .and you died before I could ask you something I needed to know. Why didn't you tell me? I pressed my palm to the cooling stone and watched one of the lilies tumble away in the wind. I considered running after it, but let it go. I could always bring more.

"In all my years I've seen may try speaking to their loved ones through their resting places, but you seem to understand that he won't answer your call no matter how hard to plea." I looked behind me to see Madara standing in the shade of the trees languidly, his mask pushed up a little onto his forehead, exposing his smirking mouth and the tip of his pointed nose. All of his face I'd ever seen. It was strange and alluring to see something I'd only could fathom.

Madara and I had most definitely gotten off on the wrong foot. Though he was my friend when he was Tobi, he was my greatest enemy/ally as Madara. He was darker than his false counterpart personality, he was a killer, and he adored me completely.

"Sa-ku-ra–hime–chan~" He teased softly.

The syllables of my name didn't sound right coming out of that mouth.

"You know I liked you a lot better when you were a ditz that talked in third person." I voiced my distress and Madara rolled his pinkish-red eye that stared at me from the eyehole. They always looked like they were bleeding; they always appeared to be colored red like wine.

"And I liked you better when you didn't act so naïve, but I guess we both have our pet peeves, Hime." I waved my hand dismissively.

"Madara, not today." I turned away from his and began walking from the grave back to the shrine. Madara perused after me, though I didn't hear him. I felt his body towering over me before his took my wrist in his gloved hand. His face close to mine.

"Oh, yes today. You'll have to endure me for a little longer Sakura–hime."

I pulled away and faced him. "Don't dance around everything just tell me! What do you know?"

"What I know, future queen?" Madara's voice hit a dark tone and when I looked at him even the shadows seem to cower at the look on his face. "We have much, much work to do if you want to continue your father's façade as a deity."

"What do you mean?"

"Well. . .there are people approaching the village and you've yet to investigate. I'd jump on that, for starters."

Damnit.

Amegakure was receiving money and supplies Kirigakure, though as strange the gesture was the Mizukage was sincere in through his letters and explain the gain of a alliance between our countries.

Madara read over the letter when I was finished. Mist-nin helped move crates from their carriages and handed them off to Rain-nin who'd gathered to help. Elders were skeptic and kept a keen eye on the foreign ninja walking from the entrance and back through to the carts. I'd long called off the dome of water hiding the village so they may enter, but I was just as ready to drop it back down if any one of them were to make a wrong move.

"What do you think, Sakura–hime?" Madara asked, skimming the letter once more.

I glared and snatched the letter back, skimming it myself before tucking it in my pocket. "Seems fishy to me. Everyone knows the Akatsuki resides in Amegakure, this could be a plan to kill us all." I muttered, so that the merchants and nin wouldn't hear.

Madara shrugged. "It is your decision that will make the difference."

I couldn't resist asking. "And what do you think?"

He paused a moment, considering his answer. "Caution is key. Alliances are nice, but they can only last for so long. In the end it's a nation's own power that will succeed when a piece of paper fails." Madara plucked a foreign fruit from a passing box. "Let them send these tokens of peace, let them give you money. The scam of it all will leave us with supplies."

He pushed up his mask again and bit into the fruit, then smiled.

For those who read my stories often, you know I love to put bits of songs before I write. It gives a nice shade of foreshadowing and helps express further emotion to the story. I do love this song too, I just heard it and it has a unique sound.

Yes, we are all very conflicted on the fact that I like to delete and rewrite and revise and re-everything. Oh, and Sakura: she's conflicted also. Trying to move on in her life, but also trying to hold on to the memory of Itachi that she carries with her. It's so beautiful and bloody romantic it makes me want to puke. Anyway, because of my writing style change, and some very heavy reading, I am learning to torture and disect my characters. Such as: giving them hurtles and digging into their minds, find out what makes them weak and abusing it until their screaming

. . .yeah, watch Durarara! the informant broker in the story offers interesting insight on the human mind. Izaya is king! Love the humans! Love, love, love them!

Reveiw me, ciao,

~QueenVamp