Founding Love

Chapter Six

"I don't appreciate being carried like a sack of potatoes!"

Sakura growled from beneath her makeshift facial covering with the heat of her breath flowing painstakingly so against her skin. She shuffled on the bruising shoulder as best as she could, but found herself limited in what movements she could make with his armor digging into her sternum. She tried to shift her arms in a manner to ease the ache in her shoulders, but had no luck with them being tied tightly behind her.

She growled again.

"Do you hear me?!"

The thick body beneath her grumbled and jousted his shoulder up into her torso harshly. She grunted on impact and wiggled her bound legs to try to hit him unsuccessfully so.

"We have. Now cease your screaming. You're scaring all the game away."

Sakura roared in her own right and swung her upper body back and forth on his shoulder.

"I want down now!"

With her command, he suddenly dropped her. Her weight crashed to the forest floor in a heap, and she groaned into the lush grass pressing along her cheek. Sakura fumbled to roll from her side onto her back, and uselessly shimmied her way into a seated position. She huffed beneath the facial covering and when her breath bounced back she fumed.

"And take this ridiculous thing off me!"

"So demanding for such a small girl."

Sakura tilted her chin high and snarled.

"Yet so feisty for someone in her predicament."

Sakura hated judging the amusement in their voices without seeing their faces. The Uchiha brothers were taunting and teasing her, and all she wanted to do was stare them down, see if they could handle the full force of her glare.

Guaranteed, she was sure they would remain unfazed.

She had come to from her little tussle with the Uchiha brothers to find herself slung over Madara's broad shoulder. Sakura had fought the last couple days to uselessly squirm out of his hold, but his arm was wrapped around her legs, a solid mass of pure muscle, and his hand was settled firmly against the back of her thighs. Sakura shivered at how warm it had felt and the memory of it alone strung a deep chord in her. She had to mentally dislodge herself from that thought.

Madara had refused Izuna's multiple offers to switch being her 'handler', which was interesting enough, but Sakura didn't want to focus too much on it. Perhaps Madara could see how Izuna changed in demeanor towards her or maybe he was more privy to Izuna's thoughts whatever those may be. Regardless, she was not entirely happy about traveling in the forest with the brothers like a prisoner.

But wasn't that what she was? A prisoner?

Sakura had spent the hours traveling pondering the thought. She was definitely given more freedom than most would have precariously thought. The brothers kept her close, always under one of their watchful eyes, and engaged her in banter. She didn't appreciate that either, but what bothered her more was how aware of her they were.

Being watched like a hawk eyeing its prey was an unsettling sensation. One that had her instincts in overdrive, sweat beading down at the column of her spine and her fingers fumbling nervously in her bindings. It made her anxious. The coils in her stomach pitched tight.

While she could predict some banter being used to gather her trust in hopes of her 'spilling her guts', what she couldn't understand was their lack of interrogation or their insistence to keep her around.

Surely by now they would have come to the conclusion she was either trustworthy and telling the truth or that she would have to be tortured for any answers they were seeking. She did not want to encourage that though.

Sakura strained her hearing to attempt to listen in to the mumbling between the brothers. She quieted her ragged breathing and tuned out the rapid beating of her heart.

"-re tomorrow. Fill the canteens. I will set up camp."

Madara had a particular voice. His voice was a deep rumbling which could shake many foundations or one which could settle all nerves. Listening acutely, she found she enjoyed it when he wasn't demanding information or making accusations. Those times his voice was booming and overwhelming like a tidal wave of emotion.

Izuna, on the other hand, was placid and devoid of most emotions.

She frowned at the thought.

Originally when she was first put under their so called 'care', she thought Izuna to be the lesser evil. He was calmer and much gentler. His voice was soothing and almost tender when he spoke to her. Then it was as if a switch flipped in him. He suddenly was volatile and so angry. His words barbs and his tone dripping in acid. I miss that Izuna, she thought, lips thinning.

Thinking back on their conversation when he went to grab her, she tried to place what triggered him. Before she could process the idea, there was a trickle of chakra drifting at the edges of her senses. It was buzzing in her ear and tickling her awareness.

"Senju." The name passed her lips before she could stop herself.

The Uchiha brothers paused in their discussion, frozen in place like firm statues. The forest was quiet except for the soft rustle of the trees in the breeze and the chirping of some birds.

"What say you?" Izuna probed, the rustling of his pants dragging her back to her present circumstances.

She turned her head, pink locks tickling her exposed collarbone where her kimono dipped open, and she swallowed thickly.

"Can't you feel them?"

There was a pregnant pause and her awareness of the trickling chakra stilled to a small hum. She focused harder with her mind's eye. She could feel two of them, massive and heavy, pulling along her presence.

"What do you speak of?" Madara seemed cautious and angry all at once.

Her blindfold was ripped off her face, and the setting sun gleamed through the tree branches above causing her to blink rapidly to adjust. She stared up into Izuna's stoic face, but could see the hesitance spilling in his dark eyes.

"There's two of them." Sakura gulped when Izuna grabbed her face, pressing his fingers into her cheeks. His own face dipping low as he bent over to assess her.

He scuffed. "No one has been following us. I've checked. Your Senju friends aren't here to help you."

"I told you they aren't my friends! And they aren't my family either!" Sakura spit out, anger rising in her chest. "And they are there! I can feel them."

Madara had stayed a few feet back, his body though turned towards the two of them. He seemed to be analyzing their interaction, but he was shifting his eyes about in a slow, steady sweeping motion as if he was trying to see what she felt.

"Izuna, check the perimeter before filling the canteens."

Izuna made an unapproving noise in his throat. "You can't trust them."

"Check the perimeter." Madara stated again, his voice dropping several octaves.

She shuttered. Izuna released her face and jumped into the trees to scout the area. It was a wash of relief sagging in her shoulders, however, she straightened immediately. She was left under the immense pressure of Madara. Her fingers played with the tall ends of the grass as she attempted to ground herself.

Why did I even say that, she thought bitterly. She wasn't sure if she did the right thing or not by alerting the brothers of the Senju, but if it meant they would trust her maybe she could work herself out of this situation entirely.

"He doesn't believe me, does he?" She muttered unused to the silent brooding of the older Uchiha.

"You claim you are not Senju, but that is not what they say." Madara began moving, a predator in his own right. Muscles taught and strong. From her place on the forest floor, she could see the ripple of tissue beneath his attire making her mouth go dry.

He was slowly stalking around her, and Sakura had to shift uncomfortably to keep him in her line of sight.

Sakura frowned and bit the inside of her cheek. "What did they say?"

His aura was powerful and thick as his chakra pressed around her. The trickle of chakra was no longer her focus. Her fingers plucked the strands of grass out aggressively. Sakura was fidgeting, anxiously trying to decide if she should break the binds or not. If she were to, she would have to come to blows with both brothers. If she opted not to, then she could try to build on some level of trust. Neither options were tangibly good for her.

"They say," he circled around her, stepping closer in towards her as he completed his circle. "You are a distant member of the clan. Not immediately related, but moreover a clansmen."

"Why would they say that?" She bit out. She snapped straight and tried to shift onto her knees, the rope around her ankles rubbing raw into her skin.

"Why would they?" Madara repeated hauntingly.

"Well, I'm not. I already told you that." Sakura chewed out, teeth flashing between pink lips.

"Why would they say otherwise?" He challenged, hair whisking around him.

Sakura huffed. "I don't know. But I do know, I'm not related to them."

"Izuna doesn't believe so, and you can tell how much he hates Senju." Madara's lip was curling upwards as he continued his slow trek around her again.

"Izuna doesn't know who I am!" She was ready to snarl and snap like a tigress backed into a corner, her own version of claws flashing behind her with curling hands.

"Then who are you?"

"I'm Sakura!"

"What affiliation do you have?"

"None!" She grit her teeth together, jaw grinding painfully. "What more do you want to know?"

"Who trained you?"

Sakura faulted in her opposition. She took an unsteady breath, anxiety clawing in her chest with her thudding heart, and she dug her knees into the ground. He paused in his circling, fingers grazing the top of his short sword. She followed his movements with trained eyes, and her muscles bunched under her navy kimono.

"Why did you fight me?" Madara pressed, face contorting into a smirk, hair flowing wildly behind him as his chakra whisked about.

The grass crunched underneath his black sandals and his armor clinked slightly against each plate. The wind rustled his navy pants, distracting her momentarily before she redirected her focus on his face. Sakura stretched her sore fingers debating on breaking her bindings while she still had a chance. Gulping down her nerves, the pinkette strained to keep her head above the turbulent waves of her emotions.

"And what if I was Senju?" she cautioned, bile rising in the back of her throat as she desperately tried to buy time until she could solidify her story.

"Then I would have to kill you."

Sakura paled at the thought. Sweat began to bead on her brow and her hair stood on straight end when he started moving in his slow tantalizing pace, fingers dragging along the hilt of his short blade.

"Or I could keep you as a token of battle." Sakura couldn't turn to follow him, fear curling her toes and churning her stomach.

"You wouldn't dare."

His chuckle was unsettling and she could hardly breathe when his calloused hands brushed through her long locks, smoothing through tangles and knots. She stood still, heart thundering in her ribs. His body hovered over her backside, the heat of his breath brushing the crown of her head, but the coolness of his plate armor piercing her clothing. Her skin broke out in goosebumps.

"But I could. All is fair in love and war." Madara whispered, his rumbling reply sending chills down her spine and an unexpected heat to pool in between her clenched legs.

"But there would be no love." She choked out.

"But there would be no love." Sakura could hear the sharpness of his short blade leaving the scabbard. The shrill sound ringing in her ears with his reply.

Sakura jerked when both her bindings dropped, shoulders slumping forward from their prison and her ankles slipping apart. She let out a gasp of air and whipped her head around to see Madara stepping away from her to double back to the center of the clearing they were deposited in.

"There were none, Madara." Izuna was suddenly back, kunai being shoved back into his pouch. "Exactly as I suspected."

"We'll remain on high alert for now." Madara began settling in, the sun's last streams of light behind him, lighting him in an unearthly glow.

Sakura had sat in her spot for quite some time, unable and unwilling to move. She hadn't expected the night to fall so quickly nor the brothers to move in coordinating fashions to prepare for the night. They had set a small fire in the center, embers burning bright and casting shadows along their faces.

Sakura had watched closely and numbly as they each divided up portions of meat for the evening, the smell of charred flesh burning her nostrils. She hadn't taken any as it sat in front of her, her nerves too jumbled for her to risk upsetting her stomach. She hadn't made a noise, not even a peep, when the brothers seemed to inch closer. Perhaps her mind was playing tricks on her, Madara's words from earlier playing through her head.

Curiosity peaked when both brothers set to studying her.

"Where are you taking me?" Sakura mused, her soft words coating the night's warm breeze.

Silence stretched between them, and Sakura, not used to such thick silence, struck bravely again. Her chin tilted upwards a tad, and she longingly stared into the blazing flame.

"Why are you keeping me?"

"Prisoners don't get to ask the questions." Izuna responded, fingers curling into a fist in his lap.

Madara was more lax though, perhaps tongue loose from their earlier exchange. He was leaning up against a tree, one leg stretched before him, the other bent at the knee where he propped his arm up on. His hand was spinning a kunai, long fingers slipping around the blade as it passed in each loop.

"We are headed to an encampment on the outskirts of our territory." He supplied, thick hair tumbling in waves over his shoulder as he cocked his head to the side to better gauge her.

"Why?" Sakura cringed as the corners of his lips turned upward slightly.

"You do ask too many questions." His tone was lighter, almost hinting at a tease.

"If you answered, then I wouldn't have to ask so many." She retorted with a snap, mind running rampant.

Izuna made a disapproving noise on the other side of her. He crossed his arms across his chest, hands clenching in the fabric of his black shirt.

"I don't trust Senju with any information. You've received more than enough, so be grateful." Izuna grumbled, his own hair ruffling in the evening breeze.

"I'm not Senju, regardless of what you may think." Sakura's attention flickered back and forth between the powerful brothers. "I don't know how else to prove it to you."

The brothers shared a look, one she couldn't quite place, and one she wasn't sure she wanted to understand or analyze. Confusion swam through her though as the set of brothers kept combing over her. She rubbed her wrists timidly where the binds had scratched the skin raw.

"That shall be proven yet." Izuna's cryptic answer had her cringing further.

There was an unease waivering over them, and Sakura tried her best to mask her own tension. She sighed, laying down onto the cool earth with her back to the Uchiha, her arm curling under her head to cushion herself. She rubbed a worn hand over her face, and tried to think of easier times.

Her brain wasn't wired in such a way however as instant memories of Sasuke and Naruto flooded her tension wrought dreams.

What was worse though was the unexpected dream she woke up to.

Sakura was in the heat of battle, sweat dripping down her chin, blood fresh on her palms, and the wind rushing around her form as she weaved through waves of kunai and shuriken. She dodged several before dipping down to the ground to roll out of the way of a particular nasty explosive. Sakura jumped up, heaving as she threw a chakra laden punch to the ground, shattering rock jutting up as a lithe, muscular body jumped into the sky.

She hissed as she threw her hands into the signs to create a clone, but her efforts were thwarted when she realized she was layered by a thick genjutsu. Dispelling it quickly, she had enough time to catch the fist of her opponent in her small hand. They exchanged a few blows, fists reeling back to abuse soft flesh, and Sakura felt the rush of adrenaline as his rib cracked from under her clenched hand finally. She dared a small victory 'cha!'.

He grabbed her forearm to her latent chagrin, dragging her closer to him as he towered over her. The energy crackled around the two formidable shinobi to explode in tidal waves of clashing chakra. She kicked upwards, adjusting her body low to her center of gravity to pull the man over her shoulder. She caught the side of his gleaming armor with her leg, and he groaned, but was not moved by her attack.

Instead, he used his weight to crash them both to the ground, dust kicking up around them. She coughed and wheezed beneath him, her body trapped. Sakura tried to wiggle out from under him, but he pressed closer in, dropping his full weight on her petite body.

Fire blazed between them, and she parted her lips to gasp as his hips ran flush into hers. His manhood, thick and long, ground into her womanhood, a rippling sensation of pleasure writhing up. Her spine arched high like a cat, distended nipples rubbing along his clothed chest even through her own torn clothing, and she clawed at the material of his navy shirt. His own hands wound into her hair at the base of her skull, tilting her head back and his forehead dropped to rest on her chin.

A moan ripped from her throat, and Sakura squeezed her eyes shut when his tongue slipped past his lips to draw down her throat pausing on her pulse. Sakura moaned again.

"Madara-"

With a start, Sakura threw herself up in a panic. Eyes blinking into the darkness around the camp, Sakura ran a shaky hand through her locks, and her legs clenched together, rubbing in a delicious way to soothe the pulsation between her thighs.

What on Earth, she groaned. Why, please?

Panting, she caught Izuna moving discreetly against his makeshift post. She flushed when he pointedly stared at her. Even in the darkness of the early morning, Sakura could see the curling of his lips upwards and she prayed it wasn't obvious what she had been dreaming of.

Excusing herself to relieve herself, she stood with wobbly legs, body too tired and flushed to fully function just yet.

"Don't travel too far, Senju."

Sakura glared over her shoulder at him as she stepped into the tree line. "It's Sakura. You used it before, so use it now."

Izuna's cheeks puffed up slightly, as if he was debating on making a particularly nasty retort, but movement from the edge of the camp stopped him. Madara approached, face scrunched in contemplation, and Sakura flushed red. She scurried off quickly hoping to avoid sharing any embarrassing details.

When she came back through the foliage, sunlight was beginning to stream through the overhead branches. It was calm and serene, a feeling of lightness and peace. It amazed her how different this era was in comparison to the hustle of her time, but she relished the moment altogether.

None too surprisingly, both Uchiha brothers were ready to go with their weapons clasped appropriately and both turned towards her direction as if waiting solely for her.

She supposed they were, as she was their only captive audience, but she couldn't grasp the idea of them waiting patiently only for her. Men typically as good looking as the Uchiha brothers hardly waited for anyone.

Sakura gawked at her own mental thought.

Indignantly, she stomped forward trying her best to dispel whatever crossed her mind and whatever was apparently in her subconscious. She refused to think about the inherently good looks Uchiha seemed to have and instinctively how her mind was trapped in some warped sense of humor regarding said handsome men.

Their masculinity drowned her incoherent thoughts as the material of their clothes bunched along taught muscles when they simultaneously adjusted their traveling packs bringing her back to her current situation. Sakura gulped and her fingers busied themselves in their nervous fidgeting.

"We're heading out." Izuna barked crossing the clearance quickly, a cloth dangling from his grip. "Let's get moving."

"I don't need that!" Sakura waved her hands defensively in front of her as she backed away.

"Yes, you do." Izuna snapped, grabbing her flailing arm to yank her into his chest.

Grunting on impact, she defiantly shoved at his chest. They stood wrestling with each other's limbs before he gained control. She huffed, arms pressed into his solid body as he reached around her head to tie the blindfold.

"Don't bind her ankles." Madara commanded, her head jerking up in his direction. "Bind her hands in front of her."

They both froze at the older Uchiha's demand, her forgotten in Izuna's arms. Her heart rate picked up and she unknowingly leaned into Izuna's warmth, upper limbs locked between the space of their bodies.