Founding Love

Chapter Seven

Sakura was bathing in the sunlight, the heat warming her pale skin and the breeze drifting daintily by, shifting the material of her kimono. The corners of her lips tilted upward in a small smile and she envisioned the greenery of the forest around her.

She had been bound for what felt like hours now with the blindfold securing her lack of sight. She still counted though the amount of paces it was from their last stop. 27,143, she thought, estimating some of the paces between the lengthy jumps. Sakura sighed inwardly.

Planning her escape had been hard.

Frowning, she edged her fourteenth plan into a skeletal foundation. Based on the chirping and the rays of sunlight hitting her, she knew they were still in the forest. Westbound to be exact, she gauged, tilting her head into the sunlight. Yes, definitely westbound. The sun is always behind us and has been steadily shifting above us instead.

With the wind whipping gently around her, she shifted in her captors hold, ribs aching as she rearranged herself on his hard, unyielding shoulder plate. She preferred Izuna's shoulder as it was softer, but she hated how tight his grip was. She knew without looking that there would be large purple blotches of bruises on the back of her thighs from him. Madara, though uncomfortable from her standpoint, was much more confident and lax in his hold. His gloved hands were firm, but not gouging into her legs.

Sighing loudly, Sakura redirected her thoughts.

If they were heading westward, then she could assume they were still within a day's worth of travel from the encampment. The brothers had packed seemingly light enough to be in no shortage of supplies, but yet with enough perhaps to last should something arise. Both had an ample amount of weapons, more than necessary, and she had determined this based on the summoning scrolls and the clinking of metal which would ring through her ears.

Being so close to the border though, they were packed in case they were to be ambushed.

Sakura prayed it would happen.

Reflecting on her history lessons, ones she had quickly passed over while in the academy, she judged that the warring clans were currently only limited to two other foes for the Uchiha- the Senju and Hyuuga.

Her senses flared to life at the thought. If it were Senju, then she could easily slip into their hold with the distraction and prey upon the supposed gentle heart of their clan head. Hyuuga on the other hand would be uncharted territory. She could slip away, but then she would have to worry about facing another untrustworthy clan. One of which she knew would slaughter her before asking questions. Outsiders were never welcome

She relaxed her sudden rise in chakra when she felt her captor's hair begin to bristle. Sakura chastised herself. Stay cautious, girl. She sucked on the back of her teeth. They aren't developed sensors. Yet.

She grunted when his shoulder bounced harshly into her abdomen.

Growling, she flicked her tickling hair over her shoulder away from her neck. "Watch it."

The man didn't respond, and she turned her head as if to appear over her shoulder down at him. She could feel the way his own mane shifted, and she sensed he was tilting to glance back at her. Her brows touched together in a strong furrow.

He jostled her again sharply, and a cat like hiss escaped her snarling lips.

His shoulders quacked beneath her body. He was mocking her again, an alarming pastime he had picked up over the past day or so, and she gritted her teeth and squirmed angrily. The older Uchiha clenched tightly in warning on her legs, and she stilled. After a moment's pause, his fingers released their scorching grip.

Sakura blew a long steaming breath from her nose and forced herself to focus on the sun's rays on her cheek. Her ears perked when Madara commanded his brother.

"Izuna, scout ahead and send the messenger hawk."

"Right away."

Madara paused, her body abruptly jerking on his shoulder. Her bound hands tried to clench at his backside to steady herself, but her fingers scraped against the cool armor. She listened attentively to Izuna's feet scratching against the bark of a tree and the rustle of the leaves to know he had taken to the treetops. Sakura heard nothing then. The silence of the forest masking his departure.

Now it's just us, she gulped down a pang of fear and anxiously fiddled her fingers to touch along the plates. The nervous habit helped to ease her bubbling anxiety.

They stood like that for what felt like a dream.

The bird chipped above, and the forest became alive again. She could hear the sparrows singing and the wind rustling the overhead foliage. Lower to the floor, she could hear the scurrying of some small animals, their little excited squeaks and feet scratching at the grass.

This couldn't be the same forest that Konoha had hid itself in, could it?

Sakura beat down the drums of curiosity and wonderment. Even more so, she beat down the recognition to save herself from the sharp edge of pain as the idea of home struck a fine chord in her.

Konoha couldn't have been built here.

A loud squawk overhead startled her. She jumped unexpectedly and a wave of embarrassment crashed through her when her captor clutched onto her shaking legs. Her unseeing eyes darted about behind the blindfold, and she tried to locate the sound. The hawk, she thought as it sounded again piercing the air, its overhead.

"I will give you one warning, and only one." The timber of his voice broke the magic of the forest around them. Sakura shuttered.

"You will do exactly as I tell you without question. And if you dare try to flee or defy me," he punctuated this statement with a sharp grab at the tender flesh of her thigh, his fingers curling harshly into her and she hissed again. Hot tears leaked at the corner of her eyes drenching her lashes. "Do you understand me?"

Sakura nodded in haste, the pain shooting up the nerve in her leg in a lightning quick form. Her legs clenched together tightly and she grew rigid, back arching and fingers clawing at his red armor. Her nails scraped along the worn plates with enough force to make divets.

"Do you understand me?" He drew again. This time his hand spread across the back of her thigh, long fingers dipping in between her legs to grab her right thigh entirely and he squeezed harshly.

"Yes!" She blurted eagerly, her thighs pressing closed still to stop his assault.

She momentarily thought of crushing his hand between her legs, but thought better as she heard more rustling from behind her. She released the tension in her legs as she listened to a small whistle from thirty feet away. The pitch reminded her of how close the other enemy was.

Madara's hand relaxed as her legs separated, and she felt mildly rewarded when his fingers ghosted along the bruised flesh shooting a wave of heat upwards, her stomach clenching in quick assertion to the motion. One which would have been more pleasant had she not been mortified by who had done it.

They were moving again, slightly slower than before, and her shaky hands tried to find purchase again in his back plates. She became startled, lost in her thoughts, when Izuna's voice rang out close by.

She hadn't realized how close he had come.

"There's been some more developments in the encampment. They don't look too good." Sakura blanched at the worried tone in Izuna's voice.

"Hn." Madara acknowledged, the sound so deep her abdomen rippled in response. Sakura fought squirming.

"What will you do?" Izuna pressed, voice low as to conceal his worry. Sakura strained to hear, unconsciously tipping her head closer to the source.

"I will assess it once we arrive."

Sakura's mind raced. What developments? Why am I even here? She dropped the ideas of her escape plan and pieced together a new puzzle. War had its consequences and perhaps that's why she was being brought to the encampment. Clearly Izuna didn't want her there since the beginning, but it had to have been something important enough that the clan head would see otherwise. What could Madara be thinking?

Instinct drove her and she realized soon enough as the scent of burnt skin and ash clashed into her nostrils. Her nose scrunched when the air grew thick and the wind rushed by without hindrance. They were entering a clearing, one perhaps big enough to house a small army, she proposed. She had lost the sounds of the woods around them as it became replaced by the clanging of metal and shredding of material. She could hear the heavy murmurs of a crowd, deeper throngs of men's voices, and Sakura could hardly stop her muscles from tensing.

But what alerted her more was the tightness of Madara's shoulders drawing up. The shoulder plate pressed into her abdomen and scrapped under her rib cage. She took a sharp intake of air, and struggled along the plates to keep from slipping. His hand was replaced by his arm, a steel band against her thighs just above the back of her knees. His hand coiling around the front of her left leg closest to his center.

The aura around him shifted and became nearly suffocating in its weight. Sakura's own hair stood on end, and a shiver trickled down her sore spine to be replaced with a stifling heat. She could feel the bristling of his chakra, a molten lava coursing through him, and she was being scorched as it rose to beneath the surface of his skin. He was being precautious and was showboating it seemed, and even then, she knew he was shifting into what a clan leader was to be poised as.

What their clan leader was.

Strong and unyielding. A scorching inferno.

He was becoming the fire itself and it matched perfectly the picture her mind was creating of the encampment, of what he was said to be in the history books.

Sakura could practically feel the heat of their gaze on her as the pair entered, and she knew Madara noticed as well. His own arm on her legs beginning to squeeze the thick muscle. As he began to dive deeper into the unpleasant scent of ash, the murmurs quieted around them. The clanging of metal halted and she could hear the shuffling of fabric and heavy footfalls. Their boots scuffed to halt, and Sakura imagined them forming a line to become presentable to the Uchiha head.

These were definitely soldiers, all of whom were clearly paying respects to their immovable leader. And she just happened to be trapped in the center of it all.

"Izuna," Madara rumbled. Sakura could feel his head jerking ahead, the muscles of his neck bunching.

She assumed the younger of the two was already moving ahead when Madara slowed to a stop. Her breath stopped with it, and the anxiety pooling in her stomach started to churn thickly.

His arm loosened and his other hand pressed into her lower back. She could feel the heat of his touch through the layer of kimono. Her skin was alive, bristling and warming around her. She shook momentarily as it prickled along her core, and her nerves began to fry. No, she thought.

Sakura tilted her head up and back determined to remain strong under the immense pressure knowing the people around them were watching like the hawk circling above them in the forest. Sakura's own fire stirred in her belly. She fought this leader of theirs, and she'd be damned to be swallowed by his fire.

She promised herself to remain as strong as the flame. The fire of Konoha was stroked in her at that moment. She would not befall her sense of honor. So as he lowered her to the ground, her body running along the front of his armor, Sakura stood tall on her sore legs ignoring the ache in her stomach and along her back. Her hands were clenched tight and her wrists were raw from their bindings, but she dropped her arms in front of her squaring her shoulders as if nothing was wrong.

Sakura was a proud kunoichi and she'd present herself as nothing less.

He spun her around quickly. Without her sight, she became disoriented and dizzy. Nausea swam up and bile started to rise in her chest. From either her anxiety or the quick motion, she wasn't sure, but she swallowed it down fast.

Madara moved quickly to shove her in front of himself, but he was never too far. She could feel his scorching heat licking her backside and she pushed herself forward with no fear of what was in front of her. Her sandals scrapped the ground and she cursed the Uchiha bastards for not giving her her attire back.

His heavy hand was suddenly pressing in her shoulder to stop her from trailing ahead and he guided her another few paces before stopping her. She could feel him reaching around her, and she tensed immensely, fighting her instinct to flinch away. He was moving her again, her head brushing what felt like a tarp.

Sakura froze once inside. She could smell the putrid stench of infection and blood. The metallic notes were easy to pick up and she surmised it was a lot of blood. Too much blood. Sakura frowned.

When Madara stepped up behind her, she could hear the rustling of the tarp falling in place.

She was in a medical tent, she assumed.

Her assumption was clear as the blindfold was ripped from her, but the horror before her eyes was not anywhere what she expected.

Sakura gasped, hands flying to cover her open mouth at the onslaught of children. Children! They laid on bloodied cots covered in stains of various shades. Shades of red through brown. How many have bled out on these cots. Biles rose again in her throat and she fought the urge to gag.

Her emerald eyes dipped over rows and rows of them, of all different ages and conditions. Fear and anger gripped her throat, her fists shaking. Without thinking, she broke the bindings at her wrist with a snap and dove for the closest cot. Some older shinobi pitched forward, but she diligently ignored them.

"What happened? How could you-" Sakura scrambled for words as her fingers ghosted over the groaning boy. Her medic intuition scrambled to assess the damage and she let her eyes shift to the boy's. His was squeezed shut, sweat beading down his brow.

She turned sharply to glare at Madara. "He can't be more than four! Four!" She was screeching indignantly, all her anger that was building up over the past several weeks came crashing in tidal waves.

"How could you send them to war?!" She was shaking fiercely, hands fisting at the material of the boys' hakamas.

"They are able body shinobi." Madara did not even seem fazed.

"They are children!" Sakura could feel the hot angry tears pricking at the back of her eyes. "Children don't deserve this! What kind of monster sends children to war?"

Madara was looming forward, his chakra boiling around her, and she could feel the weight of it pressing down on her. Her own chakra was bubbling beneath the surface and her temper was only fueling it more. Her jaw snapped shut and she sneered at the man.

"Children don't have the luxury of staying sheltered. They learn to kill or be killed." Madara was fuming. Sakura could see the tension riding his shoulders and his own hands were fisting at his sides.

The tension was thick and she could cut it with a knife. Izuna stepped behind his brother, his own face stoic and harsh. She snarled like an angry beast, whipping back around to focus on the boy.

She cooed softly to him, the medic in her tender. She surveyed the damage by gently peeling away the opening of his navy kimono. Blood had seeped through the bandaging around his abdomen and she gently stripped it away with calloused fingers. The child had been penetrated in the abdomen by some sort of long blade. She squinted at the bruised skin. It wasn't jagged or tattered, but it was deep. The stench though had her cringing.

She gingerly whipped the back of her hand over his sweating face and whispered, "It's going to be ok, son. You will be alright. Stay strong for me, ok?"

Sakura called over her shoulder. "I need two basins of water, some washcloths, and some thread with a needle."

Hearing nothing, she turned her head over her shoulder to glare menacingly at the gathering Uchiha. "Now!"

Some jumped at the commanding tone in her voice, and a few darted their eyes between her and Madara. She locked gazes with him and dared him to defy her orders.

"Do as she says." She twisted back to the boy as the men clambered around her.

Sakura darted her gaze over the room. "Who is the head medic here?"

Izuna spoke then. "There is none."

"Then who has been taking care of them?!" She fumed, rolling the sleeves of her navy kimono up and tucking her legs in a more comfortable position.

One older man stepped forward, his wrinkled hands clenching tightly the two bowls. Sakura sized him up, deeming him somewhat worthy as he brought them to her side. She searched his own eyes momentarily.

"Organize them based on severity of wounds. I want all of them cloistered in groups so I can tell who needs tending to first. Anyone under the age of 12 is to go first in those groups, understand?"

His nod was satisfying enough.

Sakura thought back to how she handled the fourth shinobi war medic tents. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She was going to hate herself.

"I need you to listen closely. I will need as much antiseptic as possible." At his questioning look, she ground her teeth together. "I'll make a list of herbs needed. Have someone fetch them as quickly as possible and bring it to me. I'll show you how to make it, but you'll need to share it with everyone, so I'll leave you responsible for teaching the others. I then will need you to assign any able hand to cleaning the wounds while I start making my rounds."

Sakura grabbed his arm, forcing him to look at her as the gathering Uchiha became standoffish.

"I don't care how much you fucking hate outsiders and I don't care if you don't like taking orders from a woman, but you'll do as I say if you want to save their lives. Got it?"

She steeled her gaze and forced as much of her anger into her face as she could. The old man nodded vigorously and she took the time to shift her piercing gaze into each of the men's faces. One by one, they either nodded or looked away.

"Now go."

She didn't care to check to see if they were following her orders, and she blatantly ignored the Uchiha brothers in favor of cooing to the boy again. She dipped a cloth into the basin closest to her to clean the wound. When the boy moaned and tried to turn away, she could hear the men shifting closer to protect him. When her hands glowed green, she could hear one particular man begin to protest.

She tuned them out and began knitting the wound closed while cooing gently to the boy. "It may hurt a little bit, but you're doing great. It's almost over."

She forced more chakra into him, and the little boy shifted uncomfortably. She dipped a hand into the basin gathering it into a bubble that she pushed into his abdomen. He shook and screamed out, the sound vibrating around them, and that's when Madara's hand grabbed her arm.

Startled out of her meditative state, she looked into his glaring red eyes. Sakura's lips thinned into a pressed line.

"I won't let these children die here."

Madara's hand squeezed her forearm tightly.

"He'll die if you let the infection spread. I need to do this."

Sakura wasn't sure what convinced him to let her go nor what convinced him to let her continue, but she continued to pull the now dark green bubble out from his abdomen. She dropped it into the ground beside the cot where the distinct smell of puss rose. She continued like this until the boy stopped screaming and writhing in pain.

"If they die, you'll suffer a worse fate." Madara's warning laid heavy on her, but seeing the sheer amount of children across the tent had her heart clenching painfully.

If the kids died, she would suffer a fate worse. A fate of remorse and regret.

She couldn't save everyone, she knew she couldn't, but she'd be damned if she didn't try to.

Sakura dived into cleaning the wound and sealing it as best as she could to preserve her chakra. She began stitching the rest of his wound closed and the men around her watched in sheer awe.

The Uchiha clan then moved in tandem with her, and eagerly began to separate the wounded into the tiers she recommended. It moved quickly and she began stitching holes together and setting bones. She barked orders which were done swiftly and without a hitch. Sakura's heart swelled every time she touched a boy too young, most between the ages of four and seven. The older shinobi took to waiting to be treated, and eyed her cautiously. But that didn't bother her as much as the Uchiha brothers watching her with vigor.

And they should, because war meant not trusting outsiders and she was far from being a clansmen.

Several hours and people later, she looked on at the resting group with a sense of satisfaction. Her bravado was won and her ego stroked at seeing the majority healing well. She had only lost two today as they were too far gone.

She sighed into her sleeve, whipping her own sweat from her brow. She was depleted and tired, but that was nothing in comparison to the wounded.

A movement to her left had her turning to watch the approaching Uchiha.

"Come." Izuna beckoned, face devoid of all emotions.

Sakura gulped down a sudden growing anxiety, stepping forward to follow him. Madara was standing at the opening to the tent, arms cross in front of his torso. His own gaze fixated on her. She paused next to the older man who was dressing one of the younger boys.

He had been a major help, quickly attending to whatever she needed. She had been startled a few times as he switched his sharingan on to study her hands or follow what she was teaching him, but she had squashed her nerves as the time passed.

"They'll need to checked on periodically through the night. Please, call for me if I am needed." She spoke softly, hand resting briefly on his tense shoulder.

His slightly tanned face turned up to her and he bowed his head politely. "Thank you, miss?"

"Sakura." She answered. "Please call me Sakura."

"Sakura-san," he tested, glancing at Izuna. "Thank you."

She dipped her head politely before trudging forward. Izuna was watching with a burning intensity. One which caused her spine to snap straight, and she lifted her chin defiantly as he narrowed his eyes at her.

He didn't dare speak a belittling word to her now. Afar as she could tell, they owed her. Sakura sucked on her teeth. Whatever debt she had was paid, she thought.

As the pair approached Madara, she tipped her head in a slight bow.

"My performance good enough for you?" She snapped under his scrutiny.

"We shall see." Was his cryptic response.

Nonetheless, they were moving from the tent. The sun dipped low into the west as it settled, and Sakura cringed at how quick the time had passed. Despite the low cast of the sunlight, Sakura drank in the surroundings. She had been right. It was a large encampment of shinobi warriors. Some were working on repairing their weapons while others were fixing their banners.

Sakura studied it as much as she could while begrudgingly following the clan head. Izuna was stalking behind her, his body enclosing her close to the body of Madara. He was trapping her in between their bodies, her escape routes blocked. She wouldn't try though. She counted the Uchiha clansmen and doubted she could take them all even if she didn't factor in the brothers.

There's too many, her fingers clenched the fabric of her kimono sleeves. There's nothing I can do now until we're on the move.

Sakura's world felt small suddenly. The realization of her entrapment colliding with her. Her heart began pounding heavily in her chest and she tried frantically to find an escape. As if sensing her turmoil, Madara turned his head,flitted his eyes over her before turning back ahead.

Her stomach was churning again and she nearly jumped out of her skin as Izuna's hand pressed into the middle of her back before snaking up and across her shoulder blades to rest on her shoulder.

Trapped, she swallowed, I'm trapped.