19. Country Mouse

Rating: E

Verse: unspecified, Madara-lives, post 4th War AU. Continuation of prompts number 1 and 2.

Idea: me

Had the streets been also so narrow when they had built them first? He'd learned that there was a destruction recently, maybe they had been rebuilt this way afterwards? Madara looked around – no, the streets weren't really that narrow - it was that the buildings were so high that they were creating this impression. And the overflowing advertising plates and rollers and flags hanging everywhere, cluttering the view. And the people. People everywhere. You couldn't simply walk, there was always someone directly in front of you. You needed to move with the stream, as if in a river, and once your movement deviated from the general flow, people would stomp on you. That was very, very annoying.

But the girl, Sakura - as he learned in the restaurant when the waiter referred to her with this name -was navigating the streets and crowds with ease.

Madara looked sideways where she walked besides him with energy and in the same time grace in her step. 'Sakura-sama', the waiter had called her. She had laughed in embarrassment at the title, as if unaccustomed to it, but still... to even offer such title to a girl this young...?

"This way," she said and took a turn into one of the side streets. Thank gods. The shops in the last part of the main street had lights of the color Madara couldn't describe. Poisonous was coming to mind. Only 'poisonous' was a fitting description. Toxic green, yellow and pink. If those were commercials, Madara really failed to see their point. The commercials should attract the customers. With those lights one could scare the enemy troops off. Or at least freak out the horses.

A relative darkness of a side street was a relief to Madara's eyes. He wondered if without the Sharingan he could dodge a simple kunai now, so desensitized his eyes were. Lights as weapons. Yes. He should remember that.

"It's on the other side of the city," said the girl in a way of explanation, "but the walk is really nice, through the park. I just moved in and I'm over the moon about this little place of mine."

City? When have this village become a city...?

She was correct, the park was indeed very aesthetically pleasing. Madara wondered how much resources went into it, and on which military goal they were not spent... The thought was irking, so he pushed it away.

"So why did you choose that place?" Showing some interest wouldn't hurt. Madara was very out of touch with social interactions, but showing interest in other person's life was a common courtesy. Something he didn't have much use for in the cave. And until now they talked mostly impersonal topics. Somehow, at the beginning of the dinner, the conversation took a turn to chakra nature properties and its influences on body structure, and off they plummeted happily into the rabbit hole of theories and speculations. The girl was a surprisingly stimulating discussion partner. From in between the lines Madara figured out that she was a medic and a very knowledgeable one, a one that dabbled a lot in research.

But on the street their conversation broke and now the silence was palpable between them. A bit of courtesy wouldn't hurt. As far as he remembered, women liked when men paid attention to their affairs, however small and pedestrian they usually were.

"Have you moved out from another apartment? Was something wrong with your previous one?"

"Well, I moved out from my parents..."

Oh, that young...

"And what made you chose that, hmm.. faraway location?

"Hahaha, the prices? And it's a modern building, so I thought it's a wise choice... Smaller chances that something will break, and I will have to invest in repairs. I wouldn't really have time to deal with that. Actually, here we are." She stopped and pointed forwards.

They stood in front of the tallest and ugliest building Madara had ever seen. It was... rectangular. And, if that oppressive light of the streetlamps was doing any justice to it - completely grey.

"Uhm... thank you for walking me home. You really did have to..."

"I've told you already, that there are certain conventions that should be kept in every situation."

The girl, Sakura, wiggled a bit as if anxious. "Would you like to... ehm… come in?"

Madara suppressed the urge to arch his eyebrows. He wasn't expecting such forwardness. He rather thought that taking her for a proper dinner would somehow balance out the, admittingly very crude, treatment from the midday. A courtship in reverse order. He wasn't expecting a follow-up.

The girl opened the door pressing a combination of numbers on a rectangular, silver board of sorts. When she stepped inside, he found himself following. The girl (Sakura, Sakura, he should really switch to thinking about her by her name. Especially if he was about to fuck her for the second time the same day) looked at him from behind her shoulder. She bypassed the stairs and walked up to a small metal door. Unpleasant, artificial light was glowing through the window in the middle of it.

"Let's take the elevator," she said opening the small door, "It's the seventh floor and the view is to die for, but I'm not the greatest fan of our staircase, you see," she added as if in a way of apology. "It doesn't have any windows that you can open and it kind of smells in there…"

The space inside the chamber they stepped in was claustrophobically small. Madara didn't mind being in such close quarters with her, but the prospect of being closed up this way with some stranger… To make things worse the cabin started to move up. He thanked the gods that the girl was too busy digging in her purse to notice his face expression. He wondered how would he catch up on all those modern inventions without making a display out of his ignorance. Maybe he could genjutsu some bystander tomorrow and had him brief him in into all those idiotic technologies? Or to make it quicker – maybe he could just dig the victim's brain…?

The cabin stopped and the girl walked out, completely unphased. With a short click of the keys, she unlocked the door. He followed.

"So, there it is," she said with her hand still on the button she used to switch on the light.

He long didn't feel so out of place anywhere. Last time was on Daimyo's court not long after the village's foundation. There, the obnoxious decadency seeping from the walls that had been pissing him to no end. Here, it was almost the contrary. The space felt too small, too cramped. They barely fitted in the corridor and even the ceiling was too low.

Sakura must have perceived the vibes coming off from him, as she gestured at the balcony. "It is tiny, I know, but look at the view!" She switched the light off, grabbed his wrist and pulled at it. Madara smirked - apparently darkness was emboldening her. Not that she was lacking boldness to begin with.

He let her guide him through the room onto the balcony.

And he had to give it to her - the view shocked him. The sheer scope of the city Konoha had become... Lights everywhere, sprawling left and right from the Hokage monument rising directly in front of them, entire breadth of the city apart. The faces of village leaders were illuminated, each of them in a different color. Maybe there were some perks of not being elected as Shodai thought Madara looking at Hashirama's face illuminated by garish, grass-green reflectors.

Over the edge of the cliff, a row of buildings similar to the one that held Sakura's apartment stood overlooking the city. The roads like bright veins spread from the centered formed by Hokage Residence. Even the clouds on the sky were tinted orange from all the glow.

"And? How do you like it?"

"Well… Aesthetic appeal is a subjective thing, and I would lie if I said that I find it beautiful. But it is certainly impressive. And," Madara squinted, "if you forget that this is a place that people have to inhabit, and forget how it used to look like before... If you look at it purely as on forms, shapes and colors – then, yes, it is beautiful."

The lights below flickered in hundreds of colors, reflecting from the leaves still wet from the evening's rain. They stood in silence until Sakura started to rub at her forearms and step from one foot to another. Madara turned his head examining her behavior.

"Uhm, I'm a bit cold," she explained herself.

In response he stepped into the apartment. He could manage its unpleasant ambience somehow. He stopped in the middle of the room and looked around. Where should he sit? In meanwhile Sakura seemed to notice the issue as she turned uncertainly around and, glimpsing repeatedly at him, walked up to the bed. Strange bed. Why would someone design a bed with legs? Wouldn't a normal futon suffice?

She sat down on it as if on a chair – well, that was definitely a use for such a bed – and patted the space next to her. "You can also sit here… If you want, of course…"

Well, he wanted. For a moment he thought about just turning her around and ramming in her, but that he had done already. Now there was no hurry. He would undress her slowly, unpack her like wrapped-up gift, lie her on that bed and play with her a bit. Discover all her reactions, find all the spots that made her squirm, make her reveal all the sounds she could produce… Oh, he would take his time, he thought approaching the bed. Sakura looked up at him.

Still standing he unbuttoned the first two nobs of that foreign-looking shirt she was wearing. He tilted his head – her skin was probably milky white but in that strange light seeping through the window it seemed bluish. He put one knee on the bed. Girl's hands moved towards his belt, but he pushed them away. If he wanted to go as slow as he imagined, then any additional stimulation would be contraproductive. Opening her shirt further he goaded her to lie down as he lowered himself on the mattress.

Her breasts were in some form of bindings, but he could deal with that later… He attached his lips to her pulse point and slid his hand under her skirt. Sakura arched into him and mewled. With one hand working relentlessly at her lower parts – though again, not much work was necessary there – Madara set on a journey across her chest with his lips and the fingertips of the other hand. The girl was bending and twisting like ribbon.

Maybe he could make her come just like that? Just with his hands? Would that be an appropriate remuneration for that rough treatment from earlier? Still through the fabric, he circled the thumb around her pearl while sucking at the nipple – half-freed by now from constraints of that complicated contraption she wore on her chest. Sakura exhaled and opened her legs even wider. He was almost lying on her now, trying his best not to crush her under his weight, but she seemed not to be minding it. She kept grinding and arching towards him, into his hands and with every move of his finger he was making her sing prettier.

He kept trying out different rhythms, different ways to touch, until at a certain movement of his fingers she started to pant. He kept going. As he was touching her body only very superficially, he, regrettably, didn't really feel her finish. Only her loud moan and sudden wave of tension going through her body made him aware of it. Well, something to improve during the second round, he thought pushing her underwear to the side and probing her opening.

She was so lax that at first his ministrations evoked no reaction. He plunged his finger deep, as deep as he could and she finally reacted – snapped her eyes open and gripped at his shoulders as if in alarm. He jabbed at her again and she yelped. Satisfied with having her full attention again, he withdrew, added another finger and started to pump.

She shifted her hips towards him and responded, meeting him half-way. It got more difficult to restrain himself now, as imagining his cock in place of his fingers was almost an automatic reaction. Madara was hard to the point of pain. He took a deep breath and to distract himself, he latched his mouth to the girl's ear. All these intricate patterns to explore and trace, and to discover which spot would make her jerk when touched with his tongue – that should occupy him well enough. The girl mewled and twisted for him.

He curled his fingers, trying to drive her to another finish. He could press with the heel of his palm, that would have probably brought a quicker result but he was curious if he, and she for that matter, could manage without it. He tapped a fast rhythm inside her, there, where she seemed the most sensitive. Her heels dug into the mattress. Then they kicked. Good that he was almost lying on her because she would have kicked him. He didn't falter and kept pressing at the same point inside her, determined to draw another release form her. When it came and he felt her spasming around his fingers, he didn't hold it – he ground against her hip seeking some, even most measly, form of stimulation for himself.

She slacked again and he rolled off her. He didn't know what he expected, maybe her curling up and falling asleep, maybe suggesting that he should leave. He certainly didn't expect that she would start to undress him. With slow and sluggish hands, she opened his belt and his robe. She didn't have quite the arms' reach to push it off his shoulders so he helped. Then she made a pause with his clothing and started to pepper kisses all over his chest. No, he certainly didn't expect this kind of caresses, that type of persistence after the two releases that she just had.

Only after she traced his entire front with the kisses, she resumes with the undressing. With some trial and error, she found a way to untie his trousers. He helped her out of her skirt, with the top she had to help him, because that contraption on her chest remained a mystery to him. When they finally lied naked in the dark room with only light coming from city lights reflecting from the clouds, she opened her legs and pulled him into her. Despite all the anticipation built-up through handling her minutes long, he didn't want to go fast. He sank slowly, cherishing every centimeter of her. She was like a scorching liquid around him and under him. He didn't even know if he rocked her or she rocked him, nor how long it lasted. When she fell over the edge again, she pulled him with her as her waves crashed all around him.

He didn't retreat from her, kept lying, covering her with his weight. She didn't seem to mind.

When he hardened again and moved, she barely responded, apparently too tired to participate more. He slipped out of her and flipped her over. Mounting her from the behind, holding her by the nape, he slowly fucked his own essence deeper and deeper into her until his second release found him and mixed with the first. The girl beneath him barely stirred. He rolled off her, gather her to his chest and after pulling covers over them, fell asleep.

AN: I hope you liked it! ;) Please share your thoughts!