Founding Love
Chapter Eleven
Word had spread swiftly that she was of nobility and of priceless value to whatever clan she originated from. Sakura supposed this was good for her as she often found her new position in power had its rewards.
She was given more freedom to travel the compound, albeit with an attendant at all times and a shinobi guard roaming the edges of her awareness. She also was given beautiful silk kimonos to choose from. All of which were furisode, while uncomfortable in the fall heat and impractical for movement, it was more than she could ever afford on her shinobi salary back home. Most had traditionally long sleeves and more elegant designs, but she was given some without the padding and with medium length sleeves.
Sakura sighed, pulling the sleeves of the furisode in her lap closely to inspect the intricate flower design.
She had prior overhead the gossiping wives discussing what high nobility she supposedly had as this Daimyo's runaway bride. Sakura scuffed when she heard them debating amongst themself if she would become the bride to one of the Senju brothers.
Sakura barely escaped their questioning eyes and gigging murmurs.
But being of nobility had its limitations.
The problem with being suspected of nobility was keeping the air around her stifling. Traditionally, women of status were elegant and poised. None reacting to commentary or debating openly in front of men. Sakura had to control her temper many times and bit her tongue too often.
Sakura was invited every morning for a tea ceremony with the clan head and his respective elders. She hated it for she had to elegantly pose in the kimonos provided with soft smiles and few words while they debated war tactics and politics. Great for intel, yet dealing with the gender inequality was nearly not worth it.
The material was suffocating her and she felt a bead of sweat drip down her spine.
"Ah, Sakura-sama, perhaps you grow tired of this?" An elder man, draped in his own fine kimono, probed with a mocking tone.
Bowing her head and then slightly at her waist, her fingers slipped into the long sleeves of the pale green furisode to hide their fidgeting. Suffocating a groan, she raise a weary hand.
"Yes, Senju-sama. My apologies. I do grow weary." Sakura lifted her head, weighed down by the jewelry decorating her bun.
The old man surveyed her before swiping a hand over the table with a haunting chuckle. "Women," he had scuffed.
"Tobirama," Hashirama called from his seated position.
The younger brother who sat diligently behind his brother, shifted forward, bowing his head in acknowledgement despite his brother not being able to see him.
"Yes." Tobirama answered.
"Please escort, Sakura-sama." Hashirama was pointedly watching her, and she fought the urge to bite her lip. "Perhaps a walk in the garden would liven your spirits."
Sakura bowed low at the waist to the table, keeping her face clear of her relief. She'd take his offer even if her company would be sour.
"Yes, I think that shall do." Sakura sat back up, fixing her eyes around the old croons one last time before making to stand. "Please excuse me, thank you."
She was moving with small tight steps. Back straight, head high, she coached herself as she drew her elbows up and held her hands in the sleeves. Elegant. Poised.
She was maneuvering to the door as the overbearing force of Tobirama appeared to her right. She bowed her head in mild greeting, and she waited for him to slide the door open. Turning around, she bowed low at the waist, elbows firmly held high and her back even to the floor, before practically fleeing the room.
Tobirama was hot on her heels and his aura weighing down on her more so than her formal attire.
When they were out of earshot, she let go of the breath she was unconsciously holding.
"You did well with not baiting them today, princess." Tobirama's remark had Sakura snorting indignantly.
"I do not bait them." Sakura snarled, her temper flaring to life.
Tobirama seemed to have a knack for that.
It began two weeks ago when she first was dragged into the morning tea ceremony. She had taken to being firm in regards to their questions, opting to coyly decline answering or leaving her answers open ended. Hashirama had sat proudly next to her. His hand pressed firmly into the side of her thigh as they sat at the table side by side. The elders pressed, but Sakura committed herself to this lie and refused to budge.
The elders continued to try to coax answers from her about whose clan she belonged to, and when she began to give the family name she had given the brothers before, Hashirama had signaled for her to stop. She had snapped her mouth shut with a strained smile stating she did not wish harm to come to her family, bowing her head low.
The elders were not sedated though and continued to question her. When they started to become antsy and aggressive in their interrogation, she simply smiled down her nose at them, lips thin and eyes narrowed. A prime image of a woman in power.
And that is what rocked the boat.
The elders were beyond angry, and she dismissed herself with the silent comfort of Hashirama's support. Tobirama had been the one sent to escort her. Since then, whenever she made a show of power or made snide suggestions and remarks, Tobirama would later escort her out with a small smirk lifting the edges of his otherwise unreadable expression.
It seems they had a common foe.
Yet that didn't stop his own interrogations of her and he perpetually kept goading her anger into life, testing her willpower.
He would rile her with a demeaning remark or a snippy comment if only to stir the fire in her belly, and when she'd get too snarky with him, he'd deposit her in her room for her to dwindle away.
Each day since then followed the same pattern. Her- challenging the elders, being escorted out and coaxed into a battle of wills with the youngest Senju brother.
Today, she had a feeling he'd be following suit.
"The Daimyo's bride," Tobirama began, red eyes mulling over her, "a fierce warrior princess sedated by the few words of a handful of men. How uncharacteristic."
Sakura bit her tongue sharply holding back the sneer. "And yet you, second heir to said clan, can barely get a word in. How characteristic."
His red eyes were piercing her and she raised her chin higher defiantly challenging him to rise to her bait. He didn't displease.
His pale hand was encompassing her chin and twisting her head at an uncomfortable angle, sneering down at her. She held his gaze as he backed her into a pillar. Her back arching to keep from scraping the wood. He loomed over her and she could feel the heat radiating off his body even through the layers of her kimono.
"I've seen you fight and I've seen your soiled hands on the field. Don't be coy with me." He spit, his white hair flaring around him, the red markings on his face sneering at her.
Sakura refused to cave and sneered back at him as well, stepping onto her tiptoes to keep the pressure off her neck.
"What princess fights with such monstrous strength?" He breathed out, his nose brushing over hers.
Sakura nearly whimpered in excitement. She knew she was playing a cat and mouse game with the younger Senju brother, but she wouldn't fight the urge to placate him. He was dangerously close to unraveling her mystery, she knew, yet the idea of keeping him guessing had her veins pumping liquid fire through her.
It was a dangerous game. Perhaps they were fooled, but he wasn't going to be easy to convince.
She whispered heatedly, "A warrior princess."
A nearby giggle breached their cocoon and Tobirama was no longer enveloping her vision. Sakura saw in her peripheral vision two handmaids dancing around them to slip further down the halls. Great, more fuel to the gossip fire.
Tobirama was moving away and Sakura smirked to herself, rearranging her attire around her. Setting off to trail at a pleasant distance from him, Sakura nearly laughed at his stiff posture.
As they passed the garden, Sakura paused watching the light breeze drift over the flowers. Admittedly, as much as the guilt buried in her surfaced, she felt an immense relief as Tobirama kept his suspicions to himself.
A shinobi like him would be hard won, and she pleasured herself in tasking it to herself to do so.
Hashirama was delightfully easy to keep the illusion up with. Even though he had proposed the idea, she had assumed he may have questioned it himself if he were to reflect back on their encounters. So she had batted her eyes at him softly, brushing his arm gently when he had first told her he would have to share her so called title to the clan elders. He had softened and opened like a flower, hands cupping her shoulders pronouncing his word of protecting to her again.
And she played him like a fiddle.
He was a man of his word, fending off the elders' questions with his own declarations bravely. Sakura just had to pose the part.
Guilt had swam in her several times, but her survival instincts were overbearing and much more important.
Sakura began moving again towards where she found Tobirama watching her like a hawk. His trained eyes scanned her features, and she prayed nothing passed over her face while in her thoughts.
"Tonight," Tobirama bit, teeth flashing under his thin lips.
"Tonight," Sakura whispered scandalously, raising a hand to mockingly cover her mouth.
Tobirama was grabbing her forearm and circling her to her room.
"Tonight is an important celebration ceremony. One of which you'll be required to attend." He was spinning her too fast, and she could barely keep her balance in the restraints of her kimono.
"What celebration?" She sputtered, falling back into the hard planes of his chest while he guided her to her door.
"Hashirama will be announced as clan head."
She frowned, taking small steps to prolong the conversation as he reached around her to open the sliding door. "Isn't already the clan head?"
"No." Was Tobirama's rushed answer.
He was pushing her inside. Swirling to him, Sakura gathered the material of her kimono in her hands. Opening her mouth to inquire more, she paused. His frame was blocking the entirety of the door frame and she struck by how handsome he looked in the morning light. The rays highlighting his white hair and shimmering on his skin.
"Be ready. I will send a handmaid to you when it is time." He barked before closing the door.
Sakura growled, fisting the material of the kimono in her hand before galavanting to the desk. Sliding the shoji window open, she listened to his fleeing steps and she groaned at the thought of having to wear an even heavier kimono.
Instead, she opted to sweep the foreboding sensation in the pit of her stomach.
Blinking into the sunlight, she etched the image of the garden in her mind before sitting on the desk to lay against the window pane. Rolling her eyes, she scratched at the base of her neck and rubbed it gently to ease the tension growing there.
She paused. She could hear the rushing footsteps and the chattering of some individuals.
They're up early today, Sakura thought, smiling brightly. Dipping forward, she watched a small girl jump into view, merrily dancing over the floorboards.
"Sakura-chan!" A small girl shouted, running as quick as her small legs could carry her.
Rounding the corner, Sakura spied a teenage boy rushing after the dainty child as he scolded the girl, "It's Sakura-sama, dobe!"
Sakura laughed as the girl kept her pace, arms held high, brown hair floating behind her. Sakura lifted her own arms to grab the small girl as the girl lunged at her.
"Good morning, Emiko-chan." Sakura cooed, lifting the five year old high in the air.
She giggled, the sound brilliant and bright, and Sakura giggled with the little girl. Her cute button nose scrunched as Sakura swung her lightly in the air before setting her on her feet.
The twelve year old boy, a kid known as Eiko, was pouting with his hands curled around his sketchbook and utensil pouch. Sakura waved kindly to him and his pale skin flushed a pretty pink hue.
"Eiko-kun." Sakura called, waving him over as she hugged the small girl to her chest, "Come here."
He grumbled under his breath and scowled again, feigning a disinterest. Nonetheless, he came over with a pout. His brown eyes zipping around in a fashion Sakura came to know as his own version of scouting. Sakura chuckled, he always was friendly with his affection when no one was there to see it.
"No one is here besides us, Eiko. Come." She held the girl closer to run her hand over a particularly ticklish spot on the girl's side.
Emiko squealed delightfully trying to squirm away. Sakura held fast before releasing her to grab at the shy boy's arm. He huffed but let her hug him to her. His face brewed pinker.
"Neh, Sakura-sama! Please!" He scowled, brown brows furrowing together, struggling in her embrace.
"Oh hush," Sakura batted at his protests, gathering him in for a tighter hug. "I haven't seen you in two days. Where have you been?"
Emiko was bouncing on her bare toes, arms waving over her head.
"Mama finally had the baby!" Emiko announced with a large grin.
"Oh! That's awesome! You both must be really excited. What did she have?" Sakura finally released the boy and he stumbled away with a grunt.
"A baby, silly!" Emiko was jumping up and down in place, brown pigtails flopping with the movement.
Sakura laughed and Eiko groaned.
"She had a girl." He sighed, rubbing his head with the utensil pouch.
"You must be delighted, Eiko-kun." Sakura teased. The boy fused some more, holding his belongings to him tightly.
"Sure, if that's what you call it." He huffed.
"Sakura-chan, can we go play with the koi?" The little girl asked while hopping closer to the garden.
"We can watch them, Emiko-chan. Fish don't play, silly." Sakura lightly brushed the girl's bangs from her face.
Sakura absolutely adored the siblings. Laughing, she stood from her seat and exited the window to the little girl's happy laughter and the boy's dramatic sigh. Grabbing the girl's hand and the boy's shoulder, she guided them into the garden.
Emiko was darting around the pond, chatting amicably about her new baby sister and how she couldn't wait to show "Chizu" the pretty fish. Eiko huffed, sitting in the grass spreading out his brushes and paints.
Sakura smiled genuinely happy.
Two weeks ago, she had been in her room, boredly counting clouds when the girl had come sprinting down the porch with the sketchbook in her hands. The older sibling followed suit, chasing after her vigorously. Startled, Sakura had leapt up and out the window scaring both children in the process. Since that moment, the children had come every day in the mid-morning and Sakura found her unlikely companions to be the highlight of her day.
She dreaded when they would have to leave in time for lunch.
So, here she sat on the large stone near the koi pond listening to the exaggerated tales of the little girl with the brother adding in his two cents while drawing. Oftentimes, Sakura wanted to peak over his shoulder to see how great of an artist he was, but he was shy, tipping his work away from her.
"Sakura-chan, you look so pretty today." Emiko said with a cheeky grin, her gapped tooth smile friendly.
"Thank you, Emiko-chan, so do you." Sakura pinched the girl's cheek lightly.
"But Sakura-chan, you always look so pretty." The girl whined. "I want to look like you!"
Sakura shushed her, holding her cheek gently. "Hey now, I think you're always pretty. I'm jealous of you."
The girl beamed before running laps in the grass around the pond.
"She's right, you know." Eiko murmured, buried in his sketchbook. His tongue poked out as he concentrated harder.
"Mm, what do you mean?" Sakura turned facing him in the sunlight.
"You're always pretty." He flushed, glancing up at her before shyly turning away.
Sakura studied him for a moment, gauging his response with an open mind.
"May I see what you're drawing? You never show me." Sakura asked, taking a keen interest in his work.
Eiko paused, looking up at her before glancing back down to his work. He nodded, adding a few strokes to the page, and then getting up to come closer. She waited patiently for him, Emiko dancing with a butterfly in the background, and he shyly approached her.
Sakura took his sketchbook from him, careful not to ruin the picture, and gasped at the picture. She was looking at herself seated in the garden, wind playing in her hair and the sun beaming down on her. Sakura looked stunning, the color of her kimono highlighting the shade of her pink hair, her smile reflecting back to her beautifully.
"Eiko," she murmured.
"I know. I'm not that good." He muttered, glaring into the pond with his hands fisted at his sides.
She grabbed his bicep, forcing him to look at her. Sakura smiled, eyes watering.
"No, you're not good." She mentioned, fingering the skirts of the page. "You're excellent."
He paused in his self doubting muttering and blinked at her. Sakura brought his chin up and smiled widely. "Do you really think I look like this?"
Eiko was shyly rubbing his head against his shoulder, and Sakura nudged him to get him to speak up. "Yes."
"Thank you." Sakura whispered, heart soaring as his did.
The mood ceased when the old woman came into Sakura's peripheral. Sakura let go of his arm, handing back his work to him and gathered herself up. She pushed Emiko towards her brother, hand firm on the little girl's back.
"Come on now. You two must be going. Your mother must be worried." Sakura cooed.
"Aw! No fun." Emiko cried, pouting as her brother grabbed her hand.
"No running!" Sakura scolded as Emiko tried to pull away from her older sibling.
The two were seen off and Sakura exited her little haven to approach the old woman. The woman nodded, opting not to speak, before nudging Sakura to the bathing room. Sakura sighed, hoping she wouldn't have had to get ready this early.
Sakura washed quickly, as she had grown to understand the old woman was not a patient one, and dried fast before setting to her room in a simple yukata. The old woman sat before her moisturizing Sakura's face with cold, wrinkled hands and set to get ready to paint Sakura's face.
Sakura leaned back, "Please, no oshiroi."
When the old woman scowled, Sakura elaborated, "The white powder makes my skin break out in hives."
The old woman nodded, placing down the brush before picking up another brush. Sakura closed her eyes and let the woman set her makeup. Once she finished, Sakura tried to locate a mirror, but the old woman was moving quickly, too quickly.
Now had Sakura thought the furisode was difficult to wear, she was sorely disappointed. The junihitoe was barbarically impossible. The twelve layers of kimonos were light individually, but massively heavy once she had slid them on.
The old woman, who never gave her name, helped Sakura fasten each layer tightly to her lithe form. The first layer was a cream, the next a coral, the following a maroon, and the fourth a pale pink. It altered similarly with various patterns until the outer shell of the junihitoe was a pale pink with sakura blossoms spanning the kimono. Holding together her layers was cream obi, the obiage the coral, and the obijime matching the maroon layer.
Lifting the heavy attire, Sakura was grateful she had already slipped on her socks and geta prior to dressing. She was sweating profusely, adjusting her long sleeves to lay away from her body. She froze when she glimpsed the old woman frowning deeply.
Stealing herself for another long bit, Sakura inwardly rolled her eyes. The old woman was skirting about her, tugging at her long hair to pin it to her head. Sakura flinched when the woman pulled a piece too harshly. Soon her fringe was left, a few short pieces in the back slipping free of the bun.
Just when Sakura thought it was over, the old woman began pinning several kanzashi with long gold tassels to her hair and beading in small silver ornaments. Feeling the weight of the ornaments and the tassels bristling along her exposed neck, Sakura's jaw clenched.
I can't wait for this to be done, Sakura thought with a sneer.
Soon enough the preparations were done and Sakura was given a small hand held mirror. Sakura blinked stunned. Her lips were painted a traditional red. Her lids dusted in a shimmering pale pink and lined black to match her tinted black lashes.
Sakura felt stunning and blinked several more times at her reflection to ensure what she was seeing was really her. Sakura parted her lips and released a small breath slowly.
Even at the traditional festivals in Konoha, she never wore such elegant and rich attire. She never envisioned herself to look like such royalty, and yet she was.
Sakura gave the mirror back to the old woman, nodding lightly in her thanks.
And soon, Sakura was made aware of the time. A knock at her door had her bristling and rushing to stand. Slow, Sakura, slow. She moved to steady herself unused to the weight nor the unstable shoes. Don't bend too far forward!
Sakura bowed to the old woman as she slid the door open. When Sakura rose, she met the mesmerizing red gaze of Tobirama. Sakura blushed under his scrutiny and bowed to him as well as he stepped aside, his zori slapping against the wooden porch.
She mulled over his attire, admiring the blue hakama and matching kimono underneath his long white haori. She vaguely wondered if Hashirama would look as handsome.
She paused unsure of why she thought such a thing. Banishing the thought for the meantime, she carefully stepped forward to meet Tobirama.
"You look lovely." She said, tipping her head in greeting.
"Hm." He grunted, hands in his sleeves.
She moved beside him awaiting his direction. Sakura watched as he pulled a fan from his sleeve, holding it out to her.
"I assume you don't have one." He presented her with the long, gold trimmed fan and her stomach fluttered.
"Thank you." She nodded, taking the piece from him with nimble fingers.
Sakura opened the fan to inspect it and admired the floral design. Closing it shut with a snap, she raised her chin and grasped each end in her hands. Tobirama began moving, pace slower than what she knew his normal gait to be, and she followed a moment after him, judging each step carefully.
They walked in silence, Sakura too focused on treading lightly and on breathing shallowly to avoid feeling suffocated in the weight of the material. The old woman was behind her adjusting the length of the last kimono to trail at a decent distance. Sakura flicked her gaze over the old woman who seemed full of life, and Sakura briefly wondered if the woman enjoyed these sorts of things.
The distant booming of drums had Sakura jerking in response and Tobirama was looking over her instantly. Swishing her fan open, Sakura hid her blush behind it coyly praying he didn't see her reaction.
When he made no comment, she fanned herself soothingly and continued forward. Soon she could hear the distant beat of the drums and growing chatter. They weaved through the compound before heading to leave the dwelling. Tobirama paused stepping off the porch to reach his palm up in offering.
Sakura, stunned by his kind gesture, placed her hand in his. His hand curled around hers as she stepped down on shaky legs. His blushing cheeks didn't escape her emerald eyes, and she nodded playfully with a small smirk.
He scuffed jerking his head away to block her view. Sakura giggled behind her hand and followed his lead once again.
Soon Sakura spotted the glow of the lanterns in the evening sun and a large forming crowd. Many people wore stunning kimonos, faces painted and hair done up. She could spy children playing with their fox masks, their echoing laughter filling her ears. Her stomach clenched at the sight, hoping to catch the sight of her two lovely friends, but she shook it off as homesickness.
The two appeared, feet kicking up the gravel announcing their presence as they came closer and soon people were turning at their arrival. Sakura kept her posture even and her steps small. She vaguely imagined how women of prominent clans were to be presented, only having dealt with those of similar status of Ino.
She cursed her luck.
The atmosphere changed upon their arrival in the village center. Everyone turned in hushed awe. Sakura could feel the sweat running down her spine and her jitters coming to life as it seemed the entirety of the clan focused on her. She was minutely grateful for the short termed class back in the academy, and took small breaths of the Autumn air to ease her nerves.
Tobirama seemed unaffected to the naked eye; however, Sakura caught the tick in his neck as he paced beside her guiding her to a center stage. The lanterns cast a soft glow to the stage and she could barely make out the several faces of the clan elders seated forming a semi circle around Hashirama.
Her breath hitched.
Hashirama wore layers of rich greens and cream kimonos, his long haori a stark white. His tanned arms were hidden away in the folds on his lap and his dark brown hair was slicked back. His passive face brightened at their arrival, mouth twitching as if he wanted to smile.
Her heart matched the beating taiko drums, and she could hear the sounds of a koto and biwa. She was sweating more than normal suddenly, mouth dry and anxiety beginning to spread from her head to her toes.
Tobirama and her stopped in their approach to the stepped ahead of her to bow at his waist. Sakura raised her elbows even to the height and width of her shoulders, arms hidden in her sleeves and she bowed her head. Pausing for added effect, she waited until she could see Tobirama rising to a standing position in her periphery before she copied him.
She raised her chin again waiting for Hashirama's nod of approval, arms lowering to her side. Tobirama stepped up first onto the raised stage before turning to her, hand lowered to assist her. Sakura, remembering to stay poised and elegant, took the step on stage without his aid. She swore she saw his mouth tighten when he retracted his hand.
Now what, she thought watching as Tobirama sat behind his brother to the right of Hashirama. She waited, eyeing the places left open unsure of where to step, and then she caught Hashirama's right arm shifting. She chanced a glance at his warm eyes, and saw a minuscule flash to his right.
Right it is, Sakura adjusted her body to follow Tobirama and she sat upon a plush pillow with her legs folded under her uncomfortably. Dear Lord, this is going to be long.
Drums banged louder and louder until it came to a halt at the hand of one of the elders. He signaled for the crowd to quiet. It died into a hush and people pressed closer to the stage to get a better view as the elder stood to begin the ceremony.
Sakura fought the stiffness in her back, keeping her back aligned in a straight line, shoulders pressed back. Throughout the beginning of the ceremony, Sakura fought the pang of her stomach cramping. Settling it as nerves once again, she inwardly groaned, biting her tongue as the elder droned on.
Sakura opted to fidgeting with her fan, but when she caught a small boy in the front mimicking her she stopped. The ceremony dragged on.
Many elders spoke of honor and morality. The tales of battles won and Senju pride were woven together. At first, Sakura listened with rapt attention, but as the evening grew later and the sky darker, Sakura fought the urge to yawn.
Eyeing a child doing so, she mentally shook herself.
She couldn't openly disrespect the Senju brothers, especially considering their hospitality. Her stomach cramped and she flexed the muscle hoping it wouldn't growl in hunger. Now that would be embarrassing.
The evening ceremony began to conclude with the oldest elder, a weathered old man with a walking stick, stepping forward with a head ornament with the clan symbol etched into the metal. Hashirama, who had been silent during the whole practice, bowed low with his forehead pressing into the wooden stage.
Sakura envied him as he straightened momentarily for the old man to place the ornament on his head. The crowd erupted into cheers, rice and paper confetti blowing into the sky. The drums began again, and Hashirama stood proudly.
In her own awe, she had leaned forward. Her fan fell with a crack against the wood, and soon she was scrambling to pick it up when several people, the Senju brothers included, fixated on her. Sweat poured down her back, and she nodded slowly in appreciation of the new clanhead.
Hashirama's glittering eyes widened and then narrowed as he smiled. Her breath hitched at the sight, his teeth broadly showing and his lips separated wide. He made a handsome sight and she was envious as he returned that smile to the crowd.
He raised his arms to quiet the cheering, and once it settled, he began his own speech.
"Today marks a new era. An era where we aim for peace and prosperity. As Senju, we have a duty to our people and to the people of the world who need us. May our children no longer die in battle and may they become strong in our image. May our generations to come grow old and live fulfilling lives."
The crowd erupted in a roar and the cheering began all over again. Hashirama brought his arms up again and the cheers cooled.
"Let us drink and celebrate a bright future!"
With the ceremony complete, the cheers rang loud and Sakura was amazed at the unity. Is this what it is like, Sakura glanced at the backs of the Senju brothers, to be part of a clan?
Tobirama stood, placing his hand on his brother's shoulder. Hashirama faced his brother and put his own hand on Tobirama's shoulder. Hashirama's beaming smile, heated Sakura's face and she opened her fan to cool herself politely. The brothers turned to her, and she counted down from ten. Standing on numb legs, she forced herself to approach the two.
Bowing, and subtly stretching her cramping lower back, Sakura righted herself.
"Congratulations, Hashirama-sama. Your people are blessed to have you." She said.
Hashirama chuckled, rubbing his neck and waving her comment aside. "Thank you, but it's nothing-"
"Aniki." Tobirama interrupted, scolding him.
Hashirama's laughter had her wishing she was anyone other than who they presumed she was, wishing she could join in fruitfully.
The elders descended the stage, heading in to attend a feast of their own. And the brothers were on the move, following after them. Sakura wasn't sure entirely what she was to do and waited until Tobirama was guiding her to come. She trudged carefully trying to maneuver under the pressure of her attire.
The crowd was dancing and sharing drinks. Children were given trinkets and treats. And in the glow of the lanterns, Sakura found herself peering around, senses tingling and her awareness sputtering. Finding no one else riled, she continued after the brothers to a slightly more secluded garden where a low table was set and various cushioned seats laid.
Sakura waited for the brothers to sit, but she frowned when they left a cushioned seat between them.
"Sit, Sakura, join us!" Hashirama beckoned, patting the seat.
Sakura groaned, seating herself there, uncomfortably pressed between the two with a murmur of gratitude. She elegantly folded her hands in her lap before remembering her manners. Grabbing the bottle of sake, she poured each of them one before serving herself.
They cheered, and she swallowed back the bitter taste eagerly, her tongue lapping at the last drop. Her stomach was churning and she tried to recall when she last ate. Staying poised, she poured each a second round and they began to eat.
She chewed on the pork thoughtfully watching the party. After the meal was finished, people were coming up to pay their respects to the new clan head with low bows and exaggerated shows of status.
Politics, Sakura grumbled to herself, basking in the afterglow of a few cups of sake.
Hashirama directed his interest to her once there was a break in the line. "Sakura, are you enjoying yourself?"
She peaked through her lashes at him over the rim of her cup. She tipped her head in acknowledgment and licked a bit of sake from her lips.
"Yes, thank you." She peered into the evening sky and recalled the last time she had attended such a beautiful celebration. "I thought you were the clan head. My apologies for not presenting you with a gift."
He laughed wholeheartedly. "Nonsense! You shouldn't worry about those things."
"But Hashirama-" Sakura bit, embarrassingly reaching for his arm.
"Do you miss these sorts of things?" He probed, suddenly serious.
Unsure of what he was asking, she mumbled, "What do you mean?"
"Do you miss celebrating with your clan?" Hashirama murmured, searching for her answer.
Sadness swam to life in her and her cup nearly cracked in her fingers. Setting it down, Sakura was unable to bear the weight of his gaze. Fumbling with her fan, she opened it to fan herself.
She did. She missed Konoha.
She missed spending the summer festivals fighting with Ino over who would catch the most goldfish. She missed being dragged into Naruto's favorite ramen stand and she missed scolding Kakashi for reading his smut in public. She missed the long shifts in the hospital where she attended, and she missed teasing smaller genin as the chased cats all over her beloved village.
She missed her precious people dearly, and she doubted she would see them again.
"I do." Sakura finally answered, dejectedly realizing her situation. "And I doubt I'll ever be able to go back."
"I'm sorry." He grabbed her hand, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. "For everything you've lost."
Tobirama's aura was luring her to look at him. He held her eyes for a minute, but the brute force of her realization had her turning from him to watch as more people came to pay their respects. She swallowed her pride and sipped her sake to appease her sorrows.
The solemn moment was gone and she braved a new face at the arrival of some prominent merchants. More people were making their way to the trio, and she reengaged her act, politely greeting the newcomers.
She was warm and relaxed, something she hadn't entirely felt since assuming her makeshift title, constantly aware of who was watching her. Sakura swirled the dark liquid in her cup, bringing it up to her lips to sip on. Eyeing the elder coming, she vaguely recalled him being quite interested in her origins.
Feigning disinterest at his arrival, she exuded as much energy into remaining stoic in his presence. The elder openly stared, and Hashirama cleared his throat drawing the attention back to himself. He bowed to the elder and engaged him in conversation.
Sakura caught the tail end of a marriage remark, but missed the rest as the elder sauntered off. Hashirama's cheeks were pink and Tobirama was scowling, his own cheeks red.
Sakura blinked and when neither met her gaze, she downed the rest of her cup. Pouring a hefty amount in her cup, she opened her mouth to strike a conversation of her own up, but she was drowned out by a sharp explosion.
The ground shook and she could see a large cloud of smoke from the opposite side of the dwelling. She could hear people screaming, and the pang of dread sat heavy in her stomach. Hashirama and Tobirama were already on their feet, alert and jutting forward, chakra flaring.
She dropped her cup and stood abruptly, grabbing the bottom layers of her junihitoe in her small hands. Hashirama was turning to her, hands on her shoulders as she rose.
"Sakura-"
"Go!" She demanded with a snarl.
Both brothers were gone in a blink, auras swirling around her. Hefting the layers up, Sakura darted toward the fight. Power pumped into her legs. The screaming grew and she dodged families fleeing the fire. Smoke billowed from another explosion, and she weaved between men grabbing their swords and kunai to leap into battle. Several bodies of shinobi scampered in her vision as it swam.
Emiko, Eiko! She scrambled to push her legs fast, but her junihitoe was heavy and wore her down. Her geta scraped against the gravel. Nearly tripping over the body of a man, his lifeless face staring into her soul, she felt her sense of duty spring into action.
She stopped. Ripping open his kimono, she felt about for any weapon. Cursing her luck, she jumped back up to head into the compound. Her head rocking with the amount of alcohol she had consumed. She stamped down the dread and guilt in her stomach, screeching the names of her beloved friends.
She was zooming around corners, pink fringe flooding her vision as she headed in the direction they usually came from but stopped when she saw the old woman holding a wrapped body. It was small and bundled under layers of sheets splattered red.
Sakura's heart nearly stopped. Please, please don't be them.
Sakura skidded to a halt, hands running over the old woman, begging to turn the woman to her to see the bundle. The woman began moving further away, carrying the body with her, and a small hand fell into view.
"The baby." The old woman crooned, her first words were gravely and low as if unused for centuries.
Sakura grabbed the woman harshly. Fear etching over her face. The medic counted in her head, trying to soothe the ache in her chest. Her hand glowed green even as she peeled back the sheets. Bile rose in her throat at the bloodied face of the dead baby.
Renewed vigor, Sakura shoved the corpse into the old woman's arms. "Where's Emiko? Eiko? Where are they?"
She was shaking the old woman, her fear laughing in her face as the old woman blinked up at her. She shook her again.
"Tell me!" Sakura growled, teeth grinding together.
"Come." The old woman was moving quickly and Sakura shoved down her instinct to veer after her.
They were moving erratically into the farthest edge of the village, an unfamiliar section covered heavily in trees and bushes. Sakura kept her kimono hitched in her hands, the thick layers protecting her from the branches clawing at her.
"Please, hurry!" Sakura cried, the high pitches of screams vibrating in her skull.
The woman moved faster, the bloodied baby tight to her chest. Seeing a small clearing ahead, she dipped around the old woman. The trees and bushes parted under her strong grip and she burst through shouting for the kids.
"Emiko! Eiko! It's me, Sakura!" Desperate to see them, she whirled in circles. "Please come out!"
A dark chuckle escaped from behind her and Sakura froze.
It's a trap, her instinct growled, the pangs in her stomach reminding her of the day's events. It's an ambush.
Sakura hiccuped, her mistake clear to her, the glaring truth in front of her. Her hands were shaking and she circled to face the old woman whose skin was beginning to morph and smooth. A henge.
Memories of the old woman moving too fast passed in her mind's eye. The old woman's skin smoothing.
In her place, stood the hunched form of a middle aged man, his skin rippling into deep scars and his mocking laughter crooning. He looked to be average height and build, his black hair and brown eyes standard. The man continued to shift, dropping the lifeless baby to the ground, and he straightened. A nasty scar ran from his chin up the side of his face just under his clouded eye.
Rogue, she breathed with a hiss.
He was laughing still, hands curled around two kunai from a pouch at his waist.
"So you are the Daimyo's bride." He twirled the metal, the moonlight glinting off the surface. "He's paid a hefty price for your return."
She hissed like a cat, skin prickling as he trailed a circle around her.
"Where are the children?" She snarled, moving to keep him within her sight.
"There never was any Emiko or Eiko, princess." He sneered, his mouth revealing black decaying teeth.
She didn't like his answer and she threateningly made a show of bringing her chakra to her hands. He snickered, kunai rotating in his palms. He threw one, planting it in the ground in front of her.
"Take it, princess." He mocked, finger curling upwards, beckoning her to him. "Fight me the same way you fought my brethren in the desert."
"I don't need anything but my hands." She lured, dropping the material of her junihitoe.
He leapt then with a sickening grin and she began weaving. As they danced in the trees, she noted his attire. It was all black, no symbol etched in. He was remarkably quick, but nowhere near as talented as she despite how inebriated she was.
When her geta slipped on the branch she landed on, Sakura growled. He pressed his advantage and she kicked back up into the tree turning at her waist. Pouring chakra into her spin, she flung her geta at him. Her opponent barely dodged and the earth cracked with a resounding boom where her geta splintered the ground.
"What kind of princess are you?" He growled, flinging several kunai at her, clearly tired of their charade.
She weaved through the shower of metal, plucking one from the air to spin it back to him. She landed gracefully, her feet much sturdier without her shoes. He fell with a thud, grabbing at his abdomen where she hit her mark.
"A warrior princess." She leapt at him, fist cocked back to knock his teeth out.
His jaw cracked and she smiled pitifully at him as he slumped to the ground. She stomped his head down with her foot, his head grinding into the soil.
"Tell your Daimyo he'll have to try harder than that."
"You can tell him yourself."
Barely having enough time to dip under the flying appendage, Sakura frowned. She thrashed, legs bucking under the weight of her attire, as she dodged a series of jabs. Rolling away, she stood, grabbing at her pained shoulder, sucking in a deep breath of air. When her shoulder grew numb and her arm hung uselessly, she gauged the intruder.
"Who would have thought the Hyuuga would sick low enough to. ally with rogue nin." Sakura mocked, some strands of her hair tickling the back of her neck from where they slipped out.
The Hyuuga stood, crouched in a deep seated pose, his one arm bent towards his body protectively and the other held straight out.
"You have a hefty price," he drew, tone bare of any emotion, "but what your actions at the Uchiha camp sealed your fate."
Sakura clucked her tongue against her teeth. The memories of the children crying in fear, of being ambushed, and of fleeing rode in tidal waves. She would never regret what she did. Against her instinct, she lunged forward and the two began a deadlier dance.
She dodged his skilled hands, attempting to draw out an opening. They continued like this until her patience ran thin. Her fist glew with her chakra and she tore apart the surrounding trees aiming for his brooding smirk. In her desperation, she left herself open and he made a few jabs which locked her already useless arm from regaining its sensation.
Sakura's temper flared. "So you took advantage of the Daimyo's press for revenge?"
He chose not to answer and his silence was demeaning. She retreated a few paces back to grab at the kunai in her prior opponent's abdomen. She yanked it out, blood spurting over her gown. She slashed at the Hyuuga and caught the edges of his long hair.
The Hyuuga dipped under her arm and flung his hands into a flurry of seals. She had enough time to drop and roll away as his Byakugan traced her movement. Sakura's jaw snapped shut as a body fell from overhead. The Hyuuga paused, recognizing his clansme's corpse and he sprung up to avoid Tobirama's sword. He narrowly missed the blade, hands flying into another wave of seals to fight the master swordsman.
Tobirama paid her no attention, jumping to attack the Hyuuga. She focused on drawing her healing chakra to her pressure point when she had the sudden urge to tuck away. Finally agreeing to her instinct, she dropped and rolled. Another Hyuuga brushing the area she was standing in.
Once she was out of the way, she stood, kimono dragging against the ground. Tobirama was focused on the first opponent, his hands weaving into signs to fight the other. The newcomer dashed to attack Tobirama's backside, and Sakura jerked in response.
Leaping to Tobirama's back, she took the brunt of the attack- the Gentle Fist striking her chakra system directly. She felt the sudden absence of the cool flowing chakra from her arms and her right leg where he managed to pierce the points surrounding her hip. Numbness crept in her limbs, but sheer willpower had her raising her elbow with the last of her chakra in the appendage. She crashed it down onto his head. The crack was deep and crushing.
The Hyuuga fell instantly and she had enough strength to roll away to back into a tree. Tobirama finished his opponent easily, his sword running through the Hyuuga and he shoved the body from him. Tobirama turned to her with half lidded eyes.
A whoosh of air left her and she sank against the tree, the bark scratching at her neck. Her left leg was unable to hold her as she realized her chakra network was blocked. Shakily, she counted how many pinpoints the Hyuuga struck and she murmured a curse before subjecting herself to waiting out the effects, her head too dizzy with alcohol to process it much sooner.
He was before instantly, searching for open injuries and she grunted.
"So much for being a warrior princess, huh?" She laughed without mirth.
"Don't be foolish." Tobirama said, the timbers of his voice thick.
He made a disapproving sound when his brows furrowed. Something sat like a rock in her stomach, and she could only watch as he spun in time, sword raised. His sword clanged against the metal of another. The two locked into stance, and Sakura felt her world spin around her.
Izuna stood firmly, sharingan blazing with his blade struggling to push Tobirama's off.
"Uchiha." Snarled the white haired man, shoulders shaking in unconcealed hatred.
"Senju." Izuna spit, teeth flashing back.
They struggled, equally locked, blades sparking from the friction.
The world spun in a rush, and Sakura felt heat pool into the depths of her stomach as the treetops rustled. The bodies of Hashirama and Madara dropping to land across the clearing she made. Both clan heads were taunt, muscles bunched to leap into battle as they faced off.
Swallowing down the lump in her throat, Sakura panted. Her skin feverish as the eyes of both parties fell to her.
"Shit." She breathed.
