Founding Love
Chapter Twelve
Sakura was practically swimming in her sweat. Beads dripped down her brow and pooled at her lower back, her hands clammy at her sides. She felt so exposed and open. Her junihitoe was spread wide, her pale legs gleaming in the moonlight, having fallen open in her descent against the tree. The junihitoe was drooping on her shoulders; the layers were loosened in her squabble and she could feel the cool air brushing over her neck and clavicle.
She attempted to close her legs, but only found one working properly from her encounter with the Hyuuga. Cursing her Shishou's luck, Sakura raised a lip in a snarl, angrily trying to cover herself to no avail. She folded her left leg over the other trying to hide her womanhood.
She was so exposed.
Sakura felt vulnerable, an emotion she was not used to as a grown woman. She was used to being a fiery kunoichi- a viper laying in wait to snatch its prey, a wild tigress stalking the forest floors for trespassers, even a fierce ox strong and unyielding.
She wasn't used to being the prey, unused to being stalked and weak. However, here she sat. She was all these things in the moment and she tried to warn the pair of brothers with a particularly low snarl.
"Sakura," Hashirama was the first to break the silence stretching over the clearing.
When her eyes flicked to him, he continued, "Are you hurt?"
Sakura hated the way his eyes freely trailed over her, inspecting her bloodied clothes. She tipped her head forward to glare up at him through her lashes.
"No."
The Uchiha brothers were taking turns glancing down at her, particularly Madara whose spinning tomoes were hovering over her legs.
"Don't lie." Madara lulled, fingers gripping his gunbai in a ready stance.
Hashirama was investigating further from the distance, and she caught him staring down at the crease in her legs. She crossed her left leg farther over, unsure of why the close scrutiny.
"You can't move your limbs, can you?" Madara baited.
Sakura was grinding her teeth. The tension was palpable and she visibly moved her head to avoid conveying the emotion in her face.
"Let me look at it, Sakura." The tone Hashirama expressed was pleading and she forced herself to brave the situation.
"No." Izuna snarled, pushing further into Tobirama. The metal of his sword groaned from the pressure and Tobirama's stance widened to bear the tension.
The Senju brothers were silently communicating, she determined, as Hashirama focused on the battling duo. Madara was subtly moving toward her and Hashirama flicked his attention back to his opponent.
"She isn't going with you, Uchiha." Tobirama said, voice full of anger while he strained to adjust his position, feet jutting beneath his heels.
"And she isn't staying with you, Senju." Izuna retorted, face twisting into a scowl.
Sakura was confused. He didn't like me when he thought I was a Senju, she thought, so what's different now?
"Let her decide." Hashirama said calmly, the wind splaying his hair over his shoulder.
She swallowed a lump down in her throat when Madara stood straighter and inspected her again. Shivers raking down her spine, Sakura glared into his eyes openly.
"She has more value as an Uchiha than as a Senju."
She frowned, "I won't be used as a pawn in whatever game you're playing."
"There is no game." His sharingan was spinning and she felt fear bubble in her chest.
When nothing came of it, she skirted her awareness as best as she could. Feeling no genjutsu, she chewed her lip.
"She doesn't want to be with you. She is ours to protect." Tobirama stated.
The sudden admission had her reeling and she wished she could see his face to gauge his emotions, even if they were carefully smoothed over. Izuna wasn't pleased with the answer though, driving forward with his sword. The two separated and jumped apart- the Senju on one side and the Uchiha on the other.
"She saved our warriors. She is ours."
Madara's baritone voice rumbled in her chest and his words bounced in her head. Is this why he's here, her emerald eyes committed to memory his stance, does he still think I'm some prisoner of war? Some prize to be won? Or is he insinuating something else?
She voiced her opinion loudly, the outburst surprising even herself.
The men were all looking her over and she wished she had the use of her limbs to beat down their misogynistic behavior.
"You would no longer be a prisoner." Izuna started, his own tomoes swirling slowly. "You'd be a part of us."
Madara added, his hand closing around his gunbai tightly as he shifted it to his back, "We do not take kindly to those taking what belongs to us."
She scowled dangerously. "I don't belong to anyone!"
Hashirama was sympathizing with her with his hand held out, but his words said otherwise. "You have to pick. With your skills and status, you cannot go far without assigning yourself a new allegiance. The Daimyo would come for you."
Hot tears pricked the back of her eyes in her frustration and her teeth grit. "Why?"
His brown eyes were warm when he shifted his stance to appear more relaxed. She could tell he was uncomfortable though based on the muscle tensing in his neck and the way his stance remained wide. They were squaring off with a semblance of familiarity. How many times have they done this?
"Picking would mean war between our clans. We won't give up so easily." Madara goaded, his chakra beginning to whirl.
Tobirama bristled, his chakra reacting to the enemy, rising and spinning. Hashirama grabbed his brother's shoulder as if to stifle the energy in him. Sakura felt herself choking on an abrupt thought. 'Picking would mean war between our clans.'
The clans would be fighting indefinitely. She could see the pride in each of the brother's faces and she leaned back into the tree with the realization- how long will they continue to fight? How else would the clans forge an alliance? Konoha would never exist if I picked a side. What would happen to my Naruto, Sasuke, Sai if Konoha didn't exist?
Sakura stared into the silent canopy of the forest and she unconsciously shook. How can I protect my loved ones if I've already messed this up so much? She exhaled with a dejected hiccup.
"But do we really have to? Can't we work towards peace? Haven't we seen enough?" Hashirama begged. He opened his arms wide, brows arching as he addressed Madara.
"You took what was guaranteed ours, Hashirama." Madara bit, his gloves crinkling into fists.
Guaranteed? Hashirama's face turned tense and Tobirama's shoulders rose higher up. Madara caught her questioning gaze and his lip curled at the corner.
"Did they not tell you, kunoichi?" Madara's mocking tone had her flinching as she sought truth in Hashirama's face. "When you attacked me, they gave you up as my prisoner to end the battle."
Sakura's face was contorting and she shook her head violently. "Absolutely not! They wouldn't do that!"
She felt a disbelief quake in her as Hashirama's face darkened, his face unable to meet hers. Tobirama remained stoic. His tellall was his finger flicking on the hilt of his blade, his knuckles burning white.
"Hashirama-" she called, voice quivering. "Is it true?"
His silence sealed the truth and nausea swam in her. Look at how easy they were to give me up, she seethed, forcing the image from her head.
"Why did you come back for me then?" Sakura cracked. "You were following us outside the encampment and then you were there when it ambushed. Why go through all that trouble?!"
Sakura's gut was churning and she felt her hot tears wetting her lashes. Blinking them away hastily, she attempted to remain strong. She struggled to sit straight against the rigid bark of the tree to glare menacing at the Senju brothers, her hands unable to grip the blades of grass beside her.
The brothers gave no answer and she thought she saw guilt overwhelm Hashirama. His shoulders visibly sagged and he drooped. Sakura nearly sympathized with him, but the pain was real. She shouldn't have trusted them. They were shinobi even if they were the founders of her home.
"Sakura, please," Hashirama begged from a distance. "I'm sorry."
Sakura sat awkwardly, her leg cramping and skin profusely sweating. She tried to imagine what she would do if she was in his position. She vaguely thought she would have the same moral standards to not blatantly use someone; however, she knew he made a better choice for the sake of his clan.
She was angry, but she would not fault him entirely.
"Sakura, let me look you over."
He was attempting to appease her, to rebuild the trust in their makeshift relationship and she shoved the idea down. It was overwhelming and she wasn't sure what to do or who to believe. Her predicament was unreal and she was having a hard time coping with the revelations.
She still needed to make a decision. One for the better good of Konoha.
Swallowing her pride and pain, she closed her eyes, nodding her head. She could hear his light footfalls, and she startled when a matching set followed. Her head was spinning and she barely managed to open her eyes to see Madara mirroring Hashirama's approach.
They were sizing the other up, taking hesitant steps and cautiously staying far enough from the other. Sakura snapped her teeth to garner their attention and regretted it when their scrutiny reflected on her.
Hashirama crouched to her left, roving over her petite body with brown orbs. His hands hovered, unsure of what to do.
"If I was a man, would this have ever been an issue?" She murmured, catching them off guard with her question.
The four looked uncomfortable and she was grateful for her sex for once since entering this era. Flicking her pink fringe from her flushed face, she sighed attempting to roll her numb shoulders.
"What do I need to do?" Hashirama begged, hands glowing a soft green as he brought his chakra to the surface.
She gulped down her nerves. "You need to apply your healing chakra directly into the points in my chakra system."
At his questioning glance, she clarified, "It's similar to the acupuncture points."
He frowned at her terminology and she sighed. Unsure of how to further describe it, she searched for another explanation, absently chewing her painted lip. She was interrupted from her musings when Madara interjected.
"I will guide you, Hashirama."
The pair glowered at the other and Madara crouched to her right, the leaves crinkling. His sharingan was spinning faster and she lowered her eyes cautiously to his sharp chin.
"Start at her shoulder," Madara reached out and she hid a flinch as he placed his index and middle finger on her. "Press here."
"Hashirama," she coached. "Draw your healing chakra there, you should feel a pulsation. Give a quick surge of chakra there and disperse it."
He eagerly agreed, bringing his index and middle finger to the exact spot where Madara pointed to. He closed his eyes, brows furrowing and he hummed in his throat.
"I can't feel it." He admitted sourly after a pregnant pause.
Sakura frowned, "You can't?"
He shook his head, and Madara pressed Hashirama's fingers in closer through the material to aid him. Hashirama strained harder, brows furrowing together and a hint of a wrinkle forming, but shook his head.
"Nothing?" Sakura stammered, choking on her surprise.
"Your junihitoe must be blocking his chakra receptors from yours." Madara assumed, inching in closer.
Sakura paled and then flushed immediately. "Of course."
The trio sat strangely close and she felt her heart hammer in her chest uncomfortably. Oh, please no.
"Remove her layers." Madara ordered.
Her eyes widened perceptively wide and her mouth dropped open in protest. Cursing, she snapped at Hashirama, "I swear to Kami if you-"
"I would never!" He bellowed, hands held up in front of him.
"Let him." Madara barked at her. "Or remain vulnerable for however long."
Sakura hated dealing with reason yet she hated dealing feeling vulnerable. She scuffed, sucking on her teeth and biting her lip. She locked a ferocious glare at the duo, daring them to act inappropriately.
Heat waved over her as Hashirama entered her personal space and tenderly loosened her obi. She flushed, feeling the heat coating her neck and face, and she prayed it didn't dip further down. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach when he leaned close enough to smell his scent- warm pinewood. She turned her head away from him as his hair brushed her nose.
Hashirama tugged at the layers of kimonos, loosening each one until the front was dipping lower and the front started to slide. The air was cool against her feverish skin and she was relieved momentarily from the thick attire.
"That's enough." She said, hoping her voice didn't waver.
Madara's hand, when had he removed his glove, was scorching when he pressed his fingers into her left shoulder crossing over her. He smelt like a fire, spicy mahogany and smoke. She gulped, once again coaching Hashirama.
"I can feel it." The oldest Senju licked his lips.
"Do it quick, like a jab with your chakra." She guided, nervously flicking her gaze between the clan heads.
He jabbed her with his chakra, and she felt the nerve stumble to life. She inhaled sharply and felt the tingling of awareness creep into her shoulder. It was like pins and needles as if she had slept on it the wrong way, but she could feel a thrum of light chakra. Oh, it'll be awhile before I can fully use it.
Letting out a shaky breath, she opened her eyes, when had they closed, and she affirmed the sensation was there. She took a minute to adjust before Hashirama began peeling down her kimonos.
Panic set in and she stammered, "No, no! Please, go up the sleeves."
The duo took on the task of holding the sleeves up, the layers heavy and thick. Madara rolled the sleeves up as best as he could before he held it open with one hand to use the other hand to skirt up before touching another bundle of nerves. Hashirama's hand followed, dancing along her skin to meet Madara's fingers. Hashirama jabbed it, proving to be a quick study, and they finished her arm with relative ease.
Her skin was blazing with awareness. The skin bunching and bubbling as their fingers ghosted over it. The hair standing on end and she gulped down her anxiety. It's completely innocent, she told herself, trying to ignore the uncomfortable tingle from the apex of her thighs.
They shifted to the other arm after rolling the junihitoe sleeves down and repeated the same process. Coaxing her hands to flex once they finished, Sakura frowned. Her arms and hands were sore and barely prickling to life. Her arms were too sluggish to move, a result of being blocked for an extended period of time. Fucking Hyuuga.
Sakura shuttered, leaning her head back to rest on the tree when a rather sharp prickle shot up her arms from clenching her hands too tight.
"Sakura?" Hashirama was pressing closer to her and she could feel him running his cool hand over her bare shoulders. When had it fallen so low, she swallowed while the cool air skimmed her exposed collarbone.
"I can't feel them well enough to alleviate the other point."
"Other point?" He murmured.
Madara clarified for her. "Her right hip is blocked."
Dread set in and she blew a breath out of her mouth to blink into the canopy.
"Why me?" She muttered wanting to run her hand through her hair.
"Sakura." Madara was commanding her attention again and she nervously glanced at him through her lashes. "The longer it is blocked, the longer you may risk having permanent damage."
Her modesty should not have been a concern. She had been trained to handle these situations. She took classes on how to be seductive and immodest, to use her womanly charms to lure men. Sakura knew being a virgin was extremely rare, especially at her age, for her line of work. She knew Tsunade had passed those missions to other women in her academy class to preserve her innocence, but Sakura wished she had never done so. Perhaps this would be easier then.
She had always imagined Sasuke being the one to touch her intimately. She had imagined it would be romantic- candlelit dinner and an evening exploring their passions. She'd be ready and willing to share her life with him. It would be beautiful and magical.
This definitely wasn't what she pictured.
Guaranteed, she knew it wasn't the whole nine yards. It was just two of the strongest shinobi to ever live having to reach up her kimono to intimately touch over her uncovered hip and waist to relieve the pressure on her chakra points. Her bare skin.
Heat was pooling in her abdomen and she was uncomfortably hot suddenly. Her leg squeezed together as her lower abdomen clenched when Madara ran his hand up the top of her thigh without a warning, his long fingers skirting over the inside of her thigh. Hashirama was mirroring him, his hand a second after Madara's with his fingers crawling up the outside of her thigh.
Her breath hitched and both hands froze.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she dropped her head back to lean into the tree, shutting her eyes tightly.
"Just get it over with." She panted, imagining her face to be redder than a tomato.
They were moving again and a string of pleasure shot down her spine, her back arching as Madara's hand molded over her hip bone to the top of her waist. Swallowing a shiver, Sakura sucked in a breath of air to calm her frayed nerves. But when Hashirama's more timid hand came slower over the curve of her hip, she exhaled sharply.
Madara pressed his hand into her waist and she felt Hashirama swipe the junihitoe further open. Oh God, she panicked, they're going to see everything!
Everything came fast.
Her head shot up and in an instant a wave of sensation shot over her hip. She fought back a moan as they made quick work of releasing the pressure points in her right leg, her leg jerked in response. Her right thigh bounced up creating a sensational friction between her thighs, and she moaned loudly in response. Sakura involuntarily shut her thighs around Hashirama's hand in surprise and Madara grabbed her knee to push her leg down, his other hand planted next to her head.
And then they all froze.
Her lips parted and she panted. Embarrassment flooded her and she found her arms were moving on their own accord to close the junihitoe to her chest. She was trembling, burning and flushed, as her leg began to prickle to life with her chakra being released.
It was a rush. Her core wound tight and her legs clamped together, trapping Hashirama's hand near her womanhood with Madara's scalding hand encompassing and rubbing intimate circles on her knee.
Time was moving slowly in this moment as she caught both men hovering closer. Since when did they even move this close, and Sakura could barely think as her senses were in overdrive.
"Sakura." Tobirama called from the distance.
She felt like a mess. A hot, pink mess and she panted harder as Madara's thumb brushed a sensitive spot on the inside of her knee. Slowly, as if she would be pounced on if she moved too quickly, she eased her thighs to slide apart allowing Hashirama to remove his hand.
"I'm ok." Sakura murmured, fully aware she wasn't able to look into either of their handsome faces.
Hashirama was dragging his hand away and her breath hitched as his nails brushed the tender flesh of the inside of her thigh. Madara was unrelenting in his ministrations and she could barely focus.
She had to get away.
And when Madara finally did draw away, she swung her good leg into the ground cracking it in an explosive wave. Dirt flung up around them and a small crater began to form. The men jumped back startled at the attack and she ducked around the tree she was leaning on, groaning as she forced her numb limbs into moving.
Wasting no time, Sakura curled into the underbrush of the forest to scurry into the foliage. She masked her chakra and slipped a layer or two of her junihitoe in random places to distract the set of brothers in their pursuit. Keeping an ear around her, she weaved around the trees, the darkness covering her.
She would not be forced to pick.
