Founding Love

Chapter Five

Sakura had been sitting outside meditating on the porch. For hours. Completely undisturbed.

She reflexively glanced around through slightly parted lids to confirm that tad bit of information.

Finding no one was still shocking, and she shrugged her thoughts from her to straighten her spine and settle her shoulders down. Breathing in deeply, she held her breath before releasing it slowly. She did this a few more times before her mind trotted back to her original thought process.

Who leaves their prisoner alone for hours, she thought with a grimace.

She shook herself mentally and groaned when her back slouched and her fingers drummed against her knees. Snapping straight, she clenched her teeth together in an attempt to steady herself. Breathing in deeply once again, she aimed to hold her breath longer before releasing it slowly.

Seriously though, why hadn't anyone come to check on her, she thought.

Thumping her fists on her knees, she huffed and recentered herself. Breathing in much deeper and dramatically, Sakura held her breath long enough for her lungs to scream at her before releasing it in a rush.

"Where is everybody?" She blurted abruptly, pink brows furrowed.

"Don't worry, princess, you're being babysat."

Sakura jumped and skittered to her feet before twisting around to see Izuna and Madara in the distance leaning nonchalantly against the framework of the building. Sakura shook her head and angrily dropped back down to her meditative pose. She huffed indignantly once again and knocked her knees trying to fold them under her in a ladylike manner. She straightened her back again and whipped her hair over her shoulder before shifting into a breathing rhythm.

"She lacks the manners of a noble clan. Surely she is a Senju." Izuna's muttering filtered through her inner musings and her eye twitched.

"So the Senju wouldn't be lying. Perhaps there is a first for everything." Madara's rumblings had her growling in her throat.

Breathe in, hold for five, and breathe out slowly, Sakura thought clenching her jaw tight. Sakura's temper was stirring quickly and she tried to ground herself, but found herself listening intently to the brothers.

"Then they will come for her bringing the heat of battle, undoubtedly."

There was a long pause, and she leaned in discreetly to better tune in.

"Then we will not disappoint."

"But what if-"

Sakura fumbled in her inner ramblings.

Firstly she was confused on why their assumption would be that she was a Senju. She had been trained by a formidable one, but they wouldn't have access to that information. Not once did she give away any intel or any present with any suspicious activity which could attribute to her being Senju related. She couldn't recall the Senju having any distinctive physical traits, but gauging between how different Hashirama and Tobirama looked, she supposed she couldn't rely on that. All had various different chakra controls and levels. Her healing ability could be her connect to the clan, but depending on just how far back she had been thrown in time, Hashirama may not have even had the knowledge or control yet to take on healing capabilities.

Secondly, why would the Senju clan claim her as one of their own? She had never met the clan prior to her engagement in battle. So why would they protect her? Or better yet sentence her to imprisonment knowing she was not actually involved? Sakura was drawing blanks and she scrambled to address her memory of the few moments with the clan. Hashirama seemed genuinely concerned for her, but it was in passing and not a reliable instance.

She had more questions than answers, and she couldn't deny how that could pose a problem for the Uchiha. She mentally berated herself for getting lost in the heat of battle upon her unwelcome and unusual arrival in this era.

She frowned.

"Stand."

Sakura dipped her head back to glare up at the older Uchiha. When had he even approached? His immense presence was overwhelming suddenly, and she bitterly stood under the weight of his chakra bearing down on her. Izuna shifted behind his brother, his own presence slightly unpleasant.

Since her last encounter with the brothers a few weeks ago, she had hardly seen them. Her handmaid though had taken it upon herself to deposit Sakura in the garden or the clearing behind the dwelling daily. Sakura made a habit of meditating and storing her chakra in her seal. She would then stretch and practice basic taijutsu to busy herself and retrain her muscles.

It was relaxing, but the first week or so she was constantly on edge. Fear darted along the edges of her mind thinking she would be attacked or reprimanded. Part of Sakura had a growing anxiety if she had stepped out of line for disciplining that child or if she would be punished for speaking so frankly to Madara. Nothing of the sort had come yet, but Sakura remained vigilant and as pleasant as she could be with the few people she interacted with considering her circumstances.

Sakura brushed the front of her kimono under the intense scrutiny of the brothers to remove the few wrinkles, and she fought the urge to fidget with the hem of her sleeves. Tilting her chin up, she feigned some dignity.

Perhaps if she could convince the brothers that she was of nobility or had some sort of clan stature she would be released. The idea of trying to see her companions again tugged on her heart. Her chest clenched tight. And perhaps if they didn't think she was Senju, then she would fare better.

Sakura narrowed her eyes as the younger Uchiha's lips upturned slowly into a small smirk. The older brother feigned indifference as he brushed past her, and she turned to follow him as the younger brother waved her on. She kept her steps small and light as she closely followed, the younger brother's body heat pressing against her backside like a scalding fire.

She lifted her chin higher as they directed her to a portion of the shiro which she had never ventured before. Some clansmen stood idly by watching bemused as they passed. Most of them bowed low at the waist, and others dropped to their knees to their clan leader. Sakura nodded her head in polite greeting trying to vaguely recall how the typical clan leaders presented themselves in the meetings she attended with her Hokage.

Damn, she scuffed at herself. She wished she had paid better attention then instead of berating clan politics. It certainly would have paid off in this instance.

She heard Izuna snicker behind her and she tossed a glare over her shoulder at him. His charcoal eyes caught it and his smirk widened. She grit her teeth and almost curled a lip up at him in a snarl, but the hard jolt of ramming into Madara's back had her skittering to straighten herself.

Madara was the one now to glare over his shoulder at her and she visibly wilted under his gaze. She reasoned with herself that women in this time were supposed to be timid and shy, not snarling or stumbling fools.

Her head snapped around to see him parting a shoji door. Inside she could see various cushions surrounding a low table. In the corner was a small tokonoma above an equally sized vase. Sakura frowned at the simplicity of the traditional tatami room, and she blinked in response as Madara entered casually.

Cautiously, she entered slowly stepping to the opposite side of the low table. Izuna slid the door closed behind himself before approaching the two himself. Madara sat first, followed closely by his sibling. Sakura feigned disinterest, but berated herself for not being as graceful as the Uchiha when she knocked her knee on the table with a grunt while attempting to seat herself.

Embarrassed, she cleared her throat and rested her hands in her lap. Silence stretched between them for several minutes, and unease had upset her stomach. The brothers made no move to ebb into conversation instead they focused their attention solely on her, and Sakura fought the urge to fidget under their gaze.

The handmaid was a pleasant relief when she entered to present them each with tea. The woman quietly poured them each a generous cup and excused herself. The aroma wafted up gently and Sakura hummed in pleasure. She adored green tea.

She wasn't sure when she had picked up her cup to enjoy the aroma, but she was acutely aware of the brothers staring at her. She cleared her throat again, thoroughly embarrassed.

So much for acting coy, she thought bitterly.

"Excuse me for being so rude." She placed the cup back on its saucer and folded her hands together in her lap again. "I'm sure there is much to discuss."

"How presumptuous of you." Madara spoke, his tone sarcastic and low.

Sakura grit her teeth.

"Thank you for your… kind lodgings and generous hospitality." She bowed her head and waited a moment before slowly sitting straight.

Her stomach had twisted in a tight knot and her skin was becoming warm. Sakura needed to take the edge off her anxiety quickly. Both brothers were looking more and more like predators, and she felt like a cornered rabbit. Heart thudding in her ears, she prayed a show of common decency would save her.

Izuna was shifting on his knees forward beside his brother. He was once a man she would have considered the lesser evil, but as he loomed closer she told herself that no Uchiha were lesser evils.

"Senju are not usually treated so well here, but certain exceptions have been made."

Sakura frowned and swallowed down the knot forming in her throat.

Croaking out, Sakura's fists closed. "Then perhaps it is of good measure to clear my name. I am no Senju."

Izuna was coiled like a snake, his brother though was poised in stoic calmness.

"Then what are you?" Madara asked, questioning undertones hidden in his statement.

She lifted her chin and traced back her heritage briefly. She was of no noble or noteworthy clan, and her parents were simple merchants who descended from a village along the outskirts of the Land of Fire. Her heart drummed loud her ears. Perhaps they would listen to this snippet of truth.

"Haruno." She breathed out in a whoosh of air.

Izuna's hand was darting across the table, and before she could wholeheartedly react, Madara was crushing his wrist to a sudden halt. Sakura let out a sharp gasp, and a bead of sweat dropped down the column of her neck. Izuna's features were sharp in contrast to what he had been weeks prior. Sakura wasn't sure what had changed the younger brother, but she wasn't in a position to inquire. All she knew was that he wasn't as gentle as he seemed before.

"You think we would believe that?" Izuna snarled, his tone causing the hair on her arms to stand to attention.

"And who are the Haruno?" Madara slipped in.

Dropping the charade of clan politics, Sakura shook in her seated position, anxiety skyrocketing.

"My parents are mere merchants further North by… six days travel." Sakura fumbled to scratch a life out for herself. "Please understand-"

"No merchant's daughter fights," Madara turned his heated red swirling eyes on her, "like a warrior princess."

She froze. Did they sincerely think she was a warrior princess? Did those even exist? Sakura scrambled through every bit of literature she could think of, and when her mind raced to no conclusion she openly gaped at the brothers. It was a risk she would have to take if they were willing to buy it.

Madara released Izuna's hand who was seething silently. Sakura's tense form dipped back so her full weight rested on her heels.

"Why did you attack me that day?" Madara was leaning forward now instead. His eyes spinning hypnotically.

"I...thought you were someone else." She choked out, fingers digging into her lap dangerously.

"Why did you save my brother?" Madara's palms flattened on the tabletop, his hair wildly falling over his shoulder.

Izuna was prowling forward over his edge of the table, and Sakura leaned further away, her bum falling flat on the tatami floor.

"I thought he was someone else." She could barely hear her own response over the thudding in her chest, and her hands came to support some of her weight as she tried to put distance between her and the Uchiha clansmen. She slid back further, hands bracing her.

"Who did you think we were?"

Madara was pressing forward, a hauntingly strong figure of muscle and masculinity beneath his navy yukata. She was beginning to hyperventilate as he too began to edge around the table, both brothers moved in sync, and she shuffled to free her legs from beneath her.

"I don't-"

"Who, Haruno?" Izuna mocked, stretching his arm to grab at her left ankle.

He quickly jerked her back and the wind was knocked out of her lungs as she fell flat on her back. Frozen like a deer, Sakura barely had time to register just how quickly both Uchiha were hovering over her. Her brain fizzed and her lips parted to try to squeak anything, anything, out but she couldn't.

Panicked, she launched the heel of her palm up at Izuna's shoulder when he dipped in closer, and she kicked with her free leg at Madara who was hovering to her right. Izuna grunted on impact and he dropped her ankle to grab at his wounded shoulder. Madara though withstood her kick, and encircled her knee with his arm before trying to grab at her right arm with the other.

Anger and power snapped awake, and Sakura ripped her arm away. She darted up into a seated position, drawing chakra to her fist, she aimed a punch at the older Uchiha who dodged. She then, satisfied with creating some space, tried to rip her leg away from Madara. He held fast and equally jerked backwards trying to throw her onto her backside.

Thrashing, she turned to her side to use her left leg as her next weapon of choice, but Izuna recomposes to physically tackle her. The weight of his body pressed her uncomfortably onto the floor and she hissed. Snarling, she knocked her head against his and his body slumped slightly to the side and she fought to pull her leg from Madara's grip.

"Let go!" She growled, jerking her weight from beneath Izuna to grapple with Madara.

Her nails dug into the tatami mat, and she pulled her body sharply to face Madara who held firm. As she threw herself at him, fist raised and jaw tight, she made the mistake of catching the sharingan.

Her world spun red, rendering her body to slump forward into his frame. She moaned bonelessly, slipping into a disturbingly quiet sleep.