Sakura stayed quiet throughout their questions, letting Madara answer them as best he could. She didn't even know where to begin, and the truth sounded stranger than fiction. How were they supposed to say they were technically adults from another world? There was no way for them to really explain that, so instead, Elrond and Glorfindel were subjected to Madara's twisted truth. Because the best lies were always rooted in that. Though Sakura was fairly certain neither elf was fooled in the slightest. She could almost sense the aura of scepticism radiating from them as they let Madara continue weaving his tale.

Neither of them called Madara out though. They listened quietly. Patiently. Her brow furrowed, and she peered at the two. Why were they so patient and calm? She didn't understand – then again, it was more the shinobi part of her which hated being lied to. They didn't seem to have any shinobi there, though elves on the whole were freakishly quiet – she had found that out the hard way.

She was still frowning over dinner, her side still pressed against Madara's as they ate together. "I'm glad you're awake," she said, savouring the creamy soup she was guarding from her idiot's grubby hands. "It was boring without you."

"And you had no idea what to do it seems," Madara remarked between mouthfuls. "Otherwise they would have never figured out we're like them." He sniffed, glaring at her but Sakura had become practically immune to his cute glare. Not that it took much effort, given his tiny, adorable face. Even if it was set into a grumpy frown more often than not.

"It's not my fault my hood got knocked off while I was saving your backside from becoming wolf chow," she muttered bitterly, remembering how weak she was in that body. Especially with her inability to use chakra or her weird mokuton on command. It frustrated her to the point of making her want to rip her hair out.

Madara huffed. "I thought they were searching for a vessel, according to you and your weird nightmares," he said, setting the tray down on the bedside table as they finished with it.

Sakura blinked. "You believe me now?"

"No," he said flatly. "Though I suppose considering the possibility isn't out of the question," he mumbled, adjusting the pillows behind him so he could sit up more comfortably. Sakura snuggled up next to him, pulling the blankets up as the door clicked open, revealing Glorfindel's familiar figure. His hair almost looked like it was glowing with the light from the corridor behind him. Ethereal. That was the word to describe him, especially with the way he unnerved her. Though that was just her shinobi instincts screaming at the unnatural trust his very presence generated.

"Is there anything else you need?" he asked gently, collecting their tray.

Sakura shook her head.

"Books," Madara said, startling her all of a sudden. "I want something to read."

"Please?" Sakura tacked on the end, elbowing Madara gently in the ribs to remind him of manners because these people were taking care of them now, when they didn't have to.

"Don't elbow me!" Madara hissed, clutching at his side.

Sakura scowled at him. "Be polite then, idiot," she grumbled.

Madara scoffed.

Sakura rolled her eyes, blinking as she heard the quiet chuckle before Glorfindel left the room. Her cheeks reddened, remembering that they were no longer by themselves in a scary world. Ever since they had entered Imladris, uneasiness had faded, and Sakura had felt more content. It was comfortable there.

She only hoped Madara felt the same.

Sakura glared at the ground, pouting as she sat on the steps outside the library. It was where Madara was, buried in books as he read through the library with a terrifying ferocity. Something had consumed him while he was recovering from his injury, and now Sakura always knew where to find him – in the library. Even when Elladan and his twin, Elrohir, came to help entertain the pair of them they couldn't pry Madara away from whatever reading material he had his nose buried in.

Her shoulders sunk, and she chewed on her lip, ignoring Elladan as he stared down at her in worry. She had been quiet the past few days, nursing a small ache in her chest at Madara's lack of communication with her. All he talked about was finding a way to get home. He didn't want to talk to her when all she apparently did was try to discourage him.

"You've got plenty of time," Sakura reminded him, grabbing at his arm as they hurried back to their room. They were children for whatever reason, and their race was completely different. Sakura didn't quite understand all the differences of elves compared to humans, only that they had pointy ears – and every single one was unfathomably pretty, especially the ellith. "And it's important to rest sometimes."

Madara shook her off, a scowl painted on his lips. "Says the one who's resting all the time," he muttered, storming into their room, door slamming shut behind him with a loud thud.

Sakura stared at the ground, shoulders slumping. She'd gotten too comfortable there. Tears built in her eyes. They stung, like always. She's been a crier – always letting her emotions out through her tears rather than anger like Madara. "I don't know what I'm doing either," she muttered to the closed door. It wasn't like she'd been thrown in an entirely new world without rhyme or reason – or even a seal to explain why she'd wound up there.

Just a voice telling her it was time she came home.

Something Madara was determined to ignore in his quest for answers. Because implying she came home meant there might not be a way back. She was the link that had brought them there, and she knew deep down it was connected to her strange secondary personality.

Inner had been able to kick out Ino when she invaded her mind. Ino had even asked what she was. Her shoulders fell even further.

The door creaked open. "Are you coming in or what?" Madara grumbled, glaring at her from the doorway.

"Coming," she mumbled, feet feeling heavy as she plodded inside.

"Madara," she spoke, voice quiet in the stillness of the night as she stared listlessly at her side of the room. "What are you going to do if you can't find anything here?"

"There has to be," he muttered back, sounding so very tired.

Sakura felt guilt stirring in her gut. She should be helping him. She should want to go home and be reunited with Naruto and Sasuke… But she didn't.

"What if you can't find anything because the answers you're looking for don't exist?" she asked, almost shivering at the deadly silence that fell. It felt like something might snap. It felt dangerous. Filled with a dark black loathing, and a ceaseless obsession to chase those answers.

Uchiha did always like to obsessively chase something, whether it be a dream to kill someone or bring about world peace. Even if Madara was a dummy and couldn't understand that peace would be a lie. The trees had told her all about it, spoken to her throughout her childhood.

The trees there didn't talk to her at all.

They were asleep.

She liked it there anyway. She liked the sense of peace, and Madara, for all his chasing of that same peace on their old world, didn't seem content with just that. She didn't understand it. She didn't understand anything anymore.

"Shut up, brat."

Sakura sighed. "Love you too."

The words felt emptier than ever.

The pastures were green, flowers crowning raven black hair which fluttered in the slight breeze. She felt like the forest. She felt like life. "Your words have power," she said, scooping up a mound of dirt, holding it out to her. "You can feel the seed there, can you not?"

Her hands reached out, excitement flooding through her as she felt the budding life there.

"Bring it to life," she instructed, glimmering green eyes boring into her own. "That is your first task."

Her mouth opened on command, lyrical words floating from her lips, filling the air around them as she began to sing.

And the forest bent to her word and will.

Sakura hummed happily as she made her way to the library on a full stomach – having just finished breakfast where Elladan and Elrohir greeted her joyously. It was an oddly nice change from Madara's gruffness. Still, Madara was hers – she decided that a while back, and it was up to her to keep an eye on him even as he toiled away in the library. Searching for answers she wasn't sure he would find or like. "Madara!" she called, feet thumping against the flooring as she hurried over to his usual spot.

Grey eyes glanced up at her flatly. "I'm busy."

"Got anything you want me to read?" she asked, wandering towards the stack of books he had collected under the careful eye of the elf who minded the library. Erestor, Sakura tilted her head as she looked over at the other elf. He was a scholar, or so the twins had told her when they had been speaking about Madara and the library.

They joked that Madara would become one too at the rate he was going. Though Sakura had seen the worry in their eyes when Madara was mentioned. Something was eating away at him. His obsession with returning to what he believed to be their home. Sakura wasn't so sure it was anymore.

Elflings weren't meant to coop themselves up in musty libraries all day. Though it wasn't all that musty in the room thanks to Erestor. They were meant to go out and play, like Sakura had sort of been doing.

Though she wasn't any good at playing.

Instead, she had started to use it as a way to build up her strength and stamina – whether it be by running about, varying between jogs and sprints as she escaped her particular minders for the day, or by pulling her tiny little body up and down on tree branches.

They never let her climb very high though, much to her own annoyance.

"Go out and play, Sakura," Madara said, turning back to his books without even a glare or a hint of gruffness to his words. Just emptiness.

"But I want to help—"

"Leave," he ordered, not even bothering to glance her way again. "You'll just get in the way." Because she wasn't sold on the idea of going back to that world of chakra-infused madness.

Sakura blinked, forcing back the tears which automatically wanted to fall at the sting of his rejection. But she wasn't some tiny child, no matter what her appearance suggested. "Madara—"

He looked at her then, something misted in his eyes. "Get lost."

Sakura stared at the ground, feet barely making a sound as she trudged back out the way she came from. What had it been in his eyes? Her shoulders fell, heart aching ever so slightly as she closed the door to the library behind her, feeling what must have been characteristically weepy by that point as she wandered listlessly through the halls.

It was meant to be her and Madara there.

She wondered why he couldn't just relax. Why he couldn't let go when everything around them in that world seemed so much better than before. He had been alone before—

'Alone and desperate,' Inner whispered, and Sakura looked up from the ground at the sound of her suspiciously quiet Inner. 'And desperate people do stupid, desperate things.'

Sakura blinked.

It felt like a warning.

A dark cloud before the storm.

Sakura shook her head, shaking away the bad thoughts as she patted her cheeks. More of a slap if she was being honest. "Right," she said, trying to channel some of the endless cheer Naruto had always seemed to radiate. No need to dwell on Madara… he would adjust at his own pace.

They didn't need to go back to a place which had only brought them both sadness and hate. The good times hadn't outweighed the bad for either of them – or so she thought.

She didn't want to go back.

That was the decision she had made. She hoped Madara would understand… and that he would stay with him – because she had come to love his grumpy arse. Though she would never ever admit that fact out loud. He had cared for her there, even if he said it was only because she was his clue to… going back.

Lost in thought, she wandered through the halls, wondering what to do when she bumped into someone. The first old person she had actually seen there. His hair was grey, face craggy and weathered with age. She hadn't seen him before in her life.

So why did he feel so familiar?

Sakura blinked, lips moving before she could think. Inner's doing, she realised as the word slipped from her lips. Not a word. A name.

"Olórin."