The Last Ones Standing
Chapter 11
AN: The Last Ones Standing got its own trailer! It's spectacular! Thank you so much kotoffeya! If you haven't seen it already, please, go watch it on kotoffeya's tumblr (pasting the link doesn't work)
When she woke up the next morning, Sakura's first reaction was panic. What had she done? What now?
Over the course of the day it became clear that the answer was: apparently nothing. The entire day long she watched Madara. What was he thinking of her now? She had an impression that he was avoiding her, as much as it was possible with the lifestyle they had. They travelled across a large patch of the continent - terrain was mostly bare, when not rocky then grassy. In the southernmost part of the landmass the plains were rich in large, herbivorous animals, but Sakura barely registered the details.
Madara wasn't talking to her more than it was necessary. She wasn't sure, but the closer she was observing him, the more she had an impression that her was annoyed, angry even. Would he talk to her more on regular days? Would he look at her more, stand closer, sit closer? Or was she just imagining? She didn't know. Since she deemed him a teammate and not a danger, she stopped paying attention to what exactly he was doing. He was just around. But now, plagued with her insecurities, she read the worst into his silence.
Was he angry with her? Why would he be? She thought he would appreciate her courage. She tried to act sober and adult about this thing, just as he told her. It wasn't easy, but it worked, and for a moment she felt damn proud of herself.
She thought he would also be.
But maybe she was only imagining things.
Afternoon passed and Sakura realized that entire day long she didn't think even once about the hopelessness of their mission, about the ticking clock, about her inadequate efforts.
Not even once.
She was too preoccupied by the thoughts about last night.
When they lied to sleep, she put her bedroll next to his. He didn't protest, and Sakura's heart swelled with relief. Maybe he wasn't angry. She slipped into his embrace, but before she drifted off, she remembered. She remembered the sensation. The touch of his hand between her legs. The orgasm.
Suddenly, she wished he wasn't there. She wished for a privacy to sneak her hand between her legs and seek her own release. But he was there. Sakura chased those thoughts out of her head and closed her eyes.
The next day she was bothered. She kept having flashbacks to how it felt.
Touch. Touch of not-her-own hand. Not knowing how and when it will come. Not being able to anticipate what was she going to feel next. The excitement rising until it was unbearable and then beyond this point.
So unlike from everything she had experienced so far.
Not that her experiences were rich. Or normal, she supposed.
Before, long, long time ago, before everything went down the drain, she had such thoughts. They started some two years after Sasuke left the village. In the evening, in her bed, on the verge of sleep, she would imagine scenarios of getting him back. Those day-dreams had started when the fresh wound of Sasuke's defection superficially closed (until then all she could do was to cry herself to sleep). When she started her apprenticeship with Tsunade-sama, Sakura dared to hope again. There were hundreds of scenarios. Her and Naruto invading Oto hideout and winning him back. Them crossing paths with Sasuke on a mission. Sasuke returning on his own, having realized his mistake.
With time, different kinds of scenarios appeared – Sakura venturing across Sasuke alone. Pleading with him to come back. Convincing him with her promises of love.
In her daydreams he would always come back to Konoha. They would be team once again – train together, do missions, hang out… He would walk her home. How many times did she imagine their first kiss? Under moonlight, at the threshold of her house. In a back alley. It her room, when he came to seek her help battered after some fight with Naruto.
She imagined them sleeping in a tent on a mission – Sakura always in the middle to avoid fights. How she would find Sasuke's hand and guide it to her chest, let him touch her breasts – the greatest show of trust.
She must have been fourteen or fifteen when she discovered that those daydreams made her wet down there. And that when she pressed, there was pleasure to be found.
And then, finally, they found him in reality. Seeing him in Oto's garb, standing high above, against the sun Sakura thought her heart would explode from love and fear in the same time. He looked so distant, so changed. He rejected them, but she still hoped.
Something new creeped then into her daydreams then. There were no longer happy returns. There were only accidental happenstances. And when those happened, Sasuke would look at her differently, with dark passion she had never seen before in his eyes. He would grab her, pin her to the wall. Demand that she proved her love.
She would come, oh so quickly, to those daydreams.
Then he had killed Itachi. And he hadn't come back. With every new report about a next crime he committed, another portion of Sakura's hope was dying.
Until she couldn't daydream anymore. Until it only hurt.
It lasted so long; too long.
When Sasuke showed up on the side of Allied Forces Sakura's hope awoke. He fought side-by-side with Naruto - teammates, friends, brothers again. Even when they disappeared with Kaguya, Sakura could still hope. For brief couple of days, she felt that her daydreams were possible again. She had other things to take care of back then – like immobilized, but still alive Madara - but she sensed that capacity in her again.
And then it was all gone again. Gone for more than a year. It went non-existent.
Even before the Fourth War Sakura wondered how would this aspect of her own self have developed had her life taken a different path, one that didn't feature a permanently absent Sasuke. Would she cherish this part of life? Would she be comfortable with it? Would expressing herself in this area come naturally to her? She suspected that the answer to all those questions was a 'yes'. But it was only a guess – she shielded herself mentally from each and every interaction with opposite sex.
Until yesterday. Until she was forcefully confronted with someone else's very present sex life. Of which she apparently was somehow, involuntarily, a part. Hearing it was a shock, as if she was pushed into water. Maybe not necessarily cold water, coming to think about it… Maybe into hot water. As if all that had been buried away just needed a trigger to re-surface.
She never thought it possible - her body first reacting like that, and then playing along so easily…
And it turned out to be so different from her daydreams. Her daydreams were about Sasuke. What he did, how he acted, how he touched her. And it all wasn't real.
Yesterday was real. And it was about how she felt. She could recall so sharply the touch between her legs, the foreign touch, not hers. The rush of adrenaline and heat on her cheeks, and speed of her pulse. How her entire world narrowed down to the place between her legs. And how it then exploded, exactly from there.
That was beautiful, that very moment.
And even now, already two days in the past, it was still giving her repose. Finally, finally her thoughts were occupied by something else than the despair she was submerged in. It was like a breath of air to a drowning man.
She wanted more.
Should she ask him? Could she even? Will she find courage once again?
"Can we do it again?"
Madara looked at her as if she just grew a second head.
"Uhm, or rather… can you? Will it be a problem?"
His look didn't get any less bewildered. "I think that it might be a problem."
"Why?" Sakura's throat clenched. He never sounded so stern. Almost as if he was controlling an outburst of anger. So, she was right about him being upset!
"We shouldn't make a habit out of it. Once was enough. Actually, it was much more than enough and I can only hope that no irreparable damage has been done."
"Irreparable damage? What are you talking about?!"
"Incorporating such type of interactions changes the essence of any relation. Look at us, at what we've built together. No false modesty: we are a good team. We work well together, we tolerate each other presence without bigger problems, we complement each other. Do you really want to jeopardize that?"
"No! Of course not! But why would it jeopardize our relationship? We care for each other in so many ways. I touch you every evening when I heal you. You touch me every night when you hold me to sleep… It would be just another form of caring…"
"Feelings can get involved and then things can spin out of control. Think about the mission we have ahead of us…"
"Feelings? Who said anything about feelings?!" Sakura waved her hands in front of herself defensively. "I won't start imagining stuff, you can trust me! I know that you think I'm too immature and emotional… But I won't. I promise."
Madara looked to the side and for a long time didn't turn his head back. When he did, he was considering her with narrowed eyes. "Are you really in such a need?"
Sakura fiddled with her fingers. "Not really in need. It's just… When you were doing that, I stopped thinking about everything else for that moment. My thoughts disappeared. All of that," she waved her hand around, "wasn't there anymore. No dimensions hopping, no tree, no people trapped in cocoons. No my friends stranded gods know where. Or long dead. For a moment I forgot everything. Maybe… maybe it helped that it was so dark, but there, in that shelter, only your touch existed. And I could forget everything. I just want to… forget again."
Something shifted in his face and she knew she won. He will agree. Sakura disentangled herself out of her bedroll and stalked closer.
"How?" he asked and his voice was rasped.
Sakura shifted closer, moving on all fours from her mat to his. She uncovered his legs and slipped between them. Madara looked at her and he was so focused, that she suddenly felt very uneasy. She was rarely finding herself so much in center of his attention.
She quickly turned and propped her back against his chest. This way she won't have to look at him, and he won't see her face. It was embarrassing enough now that the fire was giving off some light. She was sure she will be making strange faces, and she couldn't bear someone seeing it.
"Maybe like that?" she piped.
No response. He wasn't happy about that and the longer he took no action, the more uncertain she felt. But luckily, he moved, she didn't have to physically drag his hand like the last time. He put his palm over her crotch, not really touching much, but rather resting it against it.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
Sakura nodded with rare enthusiasm. "Of course! And I'll try to be quick about it," she added.
His palm molded to her womanhood. She was wearing only her underpants and an oversized T-shirt, as per usual to bed, so the sensation was very different from that time before when she had three pairs of trousers on. For a short moment Sakura mortified. She could feel the tips of his fingers on her lower lips, between them. The thin fabric of underwear wasn't much of a barrier. Everything was so much more intense. Suddenly so very personal. She could feel his fingers, each and every of them, grazing at her folds, moving them apart, stroking her… Maybe it was a bad idea in the end.
And then he slid his palm a bit higher, so that his middle finger was exactly on her clit. Sakura yelped and almost jumped.
And immediately clasped her mouth with both hands.
Madara rubbed small, lazy circles around her bud. "Is that good?"
"Uh-oh…" Her breathing sped up. Suddenly there was not enough oxygen in the air. She will get crazy if this continues. His finger was sliding so easily, too easily… She glanced down and saw the fabric drenched to the point of near-transparency. She almost gasped at the sight – it was… it was so erotic. His finger was moving around her center, strumming and flicking her bud. She couldn't stop looking - it was mesmerizing. A new wave of excitement swelled inside her, demanding something, something more…
"Go faster. Please," she pleaded not knowing what else could help. She leaned more into him. He was warm and gave her something to brace against, and it was helpful. His finger tapped a faster rhythm.
"Like that?" he asked.
Sakura could only nod. She jutted her hips trying to respond. The tension was rising. At some point the sensations became so overwhelming that she had to clench her eyes shut – even though it deprived her of the view. She just had to; it was a reflex. She hid her face in the crook of her elbow and rode the wave of pleasure as it came crushing at her. The orgasm hit her before she could even anticipate it.
She rolled to her side of the bedroll and extended her arm towards him, indicating for him to lie down. But he only mussed her hair.
"Sleep. I'm going to stay up for a while longer."
"Why?"
"Not sleepy."
She curled herself into a ball under her three blankets, covered her head leaving only a small opening for air and drifted away. For a moment all was good.
When she woke up some time during the night, she found a distinctive lack of Madara on her left side. She turned around – the fire was burning, clearly freshly fed. Madara was lying on the other side of it, facing away from her.
He must have cast a silencing jutsu first, and then summoned a spare bedroll. Sakura blinked, suddenly awake. Why would he do that? Why would he make such an effort only to sleep away from her? Was he upset? But why? She thought she explained her reasoning.
He looked upset. She didn't know how could she tell that someone was upset just by looking at his back. But she knew she hated looking at people's backs.
When she was younger this sight used to bring out a sense of rejection. As she grew it started to provoke her anger. Now, the way he was lying, slightly curled inwards, and turned away from her… It was sad. Deserted. Lonely.
Sakura bit her lip. Should she go to him? Probably not, if he purposefully set up his sleeping place over there. Plus, he could be sleeping already, she could never tell from his breathing - it was always so regular and soundless no matter day or night.
Had that, what she asked him to do, offended him somehow? Did she force her way into some personal sphere he didn't want to let her into?
Or… Or was he feeling used?
Blood rushed to Sakura's cheeks, out of shame this time. Of course! How could she fail to recognize that! How selfish, how blindly egoistic from her!
'I'm the worst person in the world! How can I be so callous, so blind to other person's needs?' Sakura wanted to bang her fist against something hard. Or, even better, bang her head. Which she couldn't – at least she shouldn't interrupt poor man's night rest. 'I am blind, deaf and dumb! He gives me everything, whatever I ask. No matter how unreasonable I'm being! And I never give anything in return! I just take him for granted…'
Now she wanted to cry. For the first time since months, she wanted to cry not because of stress mixed with grief, but because she felt sorry for what she did. She didn't cry. It would have woken him up.
The next day wasn't jolly. The bad consciousness weighted heavy on Sakura. And shame. She felt as if she had failed as a companion, as a partner, as a decent human being.
Luckily the camp that evening, eleven dimensions away from the cold mountain world - which they deemed checked, was a normal one again – no voids, no demanding external conditions. Just a dark plane, already almost boring in its emptiness; and their campfire. When Madara lied to sleep, she circled him around, and instead taking her usual place closer to the fire, she slipped into his bedroll from behind. Snuggling to his back, she wound her arm around his waist. It was awkward, he was indeed a bit too big to comfortably hold him this way.
"What are you doing?" asked Madara trying to twist around.
"Don't you want to be held as well?"
Madara laughed. "It's the bigger ones who hold the smaller ones, not the other way around."
"But isn't it nice?" Sakura reinforced her grip.
"It is." Madara patted her palm that was splayed against his stomach.
Sakura took a deep inhale. Last time she had taken an inhale so large was when she had seen the cloud of Sasori's poisonous gas approaching. Now it was the time to jump. Cold sweat trickled along her spine.
Another inhale. Just to push this moment a bit further away in time.
No.
No more being scared.
"I was thinking…" started Sakura. "I was thinking and I came to a very sobering conclusion." She swallowed. It will be the best to tell him exactly how she felt about it, not hiding anything. "That you do so much for me, and I never return… any favours." Silence was his response and Sakura giggled nervously. "I'm such a child, I know! And I'm sorry! But I realized now, and I'm ashamed, and I'm so sorry. And I was wondering if it would be alright if I… returned that favour from yesterday?"
Madara extracted himself from her embrace and Sakura's nervousness only increased. "I know, that still makes me one favour down, but…"
"Forget it."
"Why?"
"If you want to speak about it in such terms then consider this a gift from me."
Sakura sat up. "No! You got it all wrong! I didn't mean to sound so mercantile! I just don't know how to talk about it!" Sakura wrung her hands into her hair in frustration. "I have no clue, but I'm at least trying!" She bit her tongue at 'in contrary to you'. She didn't want him antagonize him any further. "I just want to do something nice for you! It was nice for me, so I just wanted that you also feel good?" She paused. An option that haven't occurred to her earlier sprouted in her mind. "Or… Or doesn't it feel better with another person? Like, with me? Do you think it won't be nice with me?!"
Maybe that was it. Maybe that's why he didn't want that sort of contact with her. Somehow, inexplicably, it hurt. Was she really so inadequate in his eyes? So much beneath his standards? Well, what else could have she expected, she was a fail, always a fail… The pattern of the blanket lying across her lap started to get blurry.
Some of those thoughts must have shown on her face, because Madara sat up rapidly. "Snap out of it," he said sharply. "I've never said anything like that."
Sakura blinked. Two, until now only half-formed tears got their final shape and rolled down her cheeks. Madara bit down a curse.
And took a deep breath. "I don't think it won't be 'nice' with you. Just the contrary, in fact. But I don't want that you force yourself to do something you have absolutely no desire to do."
"Not true. I want to."
"But not in a way a man would wish a woman to want."
"That's not up to you to decide. There are many ways of wanting. When my friend goes on a long mission and I water flowers in her apartment, I don't do it because I freaking love watering plants! I'm not crazy about the act of filling the can with water seventeen times over, believe me. I do it because I care for my friend and I want her to have her flowers alive when she comes home because it will make her happy. Not the act of watering!"
"With these matters, the entire point is about wanting to perform the 'act'."
"But when it's not it doesn't make it any less valid!"
Madara only shook his head.
She wasn't getting through with her argumentation. If anything, she was digging herself only deeper. Sakura bit her lip - she needed another approach. "You cannot expect me to want something that I don't know," she said finally, looking him straight into the eyes. "Just… let me try. I care for you. I also want to do something for you sometimes…"
She grabbed the edge of his blanket and slowly pulled it away. He didn't protest, so she took it for agreement.
"So, how do I do it?" Her heart was racing, but she could do it. She was just scared because she didn't know how. Once she learns it's gonna be easy. She wanted to do it. "How do I start?"
She put her hand to his crotch. The hard outline was there. Instinctively she wanted to jerk away, but she held her hand down. Nothing to be afraid of. She could justify being afraid if one was about to lose her virginity. All those deliberations about how it would fit inside… She knew it would, she was a medic but Sakura could imagine that when facing a… challenge directly those thoughts could get disconcerting. But she wasn't about to lose her virginity. There will be no real interaction between her and this part of his anatomy. So who cares how it looks like and how it feels like?
He would be hurt if she showed that she was disgusted. Anyone would feel hurt. And if she showed she's afraid, he would tell her to stop, because he was overprotective like this. She just needed to push through the instinctual resistance and once she gets familiar, it won't be a big deal.
She palmed him more and got a better idea of the shape.
For her it felt good when she pressed rhythmically, so she did the same, as far as unfamiliar shape allowed it. "Is that ok?" She looked up. He didn't look very happy, rather concentrated, if anything. She must have been doing something wrong. "No? Then you have to tell me how, I really have no clue!"
"It won't work with clothes on…" said Madara under his breath.
Sakura moved her hand away as if she touched a snake. She didn't mean to, but she did.
"A stronger grip is necessary, and clothes would chaff me raw. That would get painful at some point," he added in a way of explanation.
"Oh gods, I'm so sorry!" exclaimed Sakura, tightening her fingers on his thigh. "Did I hurt you?!"
"No. I only said that it can get painful at some point if you go on this way. So far," he added, "it was actually quite pleasant."
"Really?" Corners of her mouth lifted up on their own. Something bloomed in her chest – a mixture of relief, ambition to get it right, and a genuine desire to do something nice for him. She pressed her hand against his crotch again and took a deep breath. If that's how it's done, then be it. "Then, take it off." She pulled at the waistband of his trousers.
"Are you sure? You really don't have to…"
"Take this off," she said with air of finality.
She wasn't quite prepared for the view. Sure, she saw men naked, on multiple occasions. Just never… so erect. But that's how it went, right? Nothing to be freaked out about even if it looks rather peculiar. "So. How do I do it? I touch you, as you touched me?"
"You need to grab it and move your hand up and down."
"Oh. Alright." Sakura wrapped her fingers around the shaft. Warm. With skin softer than on any other part of him she had touched already. And she had touched a lot. She slid the her palm up and down, not really holding him. So far so good. She reinforced her grip. It was so stiff, she concluded; it gave a surprising amount of resistance. Well, that was only to be expected, Sakura mentally berated herself.
Madara covered her palm with his and pushed them gently down. The skin slid down and angry red of his head peeked out. Sakura held her composure. She maintained the grip and moved her hand up, this time without his prompting. He let go and planted both hands behind himself.
Ok, so that's how it went. Nothing difficult. She repeated the up-and-down motion couple times more. She even dared to squeeze a bit harder. When he didn't protest, she picked up the speed. Some minutes later she realized that all that time she was biting her lip and her heart was racing like crazy.
"Like this? Does it feel good?" She had a hunch she was doing it right, but hearing a confirmation wouldn't hurt.
Madara didn't say anything for a while. "It feels better than my own hand, that's for sure."
Sakura would have swore she just levitated a centimeter above the bedroll for a split of second out of the pride she felt. She pumped stronger.
"It's going to be soon," said Madara and he sounded tense.
"Uh-oh," acknowledged Sakura and kept up the speed. She was happy to hear that – this strange movement was putting strain on her wrist. Along with relief, a wave of new fascination hit her. How will it look like? She focused all her attention on him, and, even though she thought it impossible, her heartbeat sped up.
"Lean back," he grunted. "You know that it's going to come out, don't you?"
"Of course, I know!" exclaimed Sakura in indignation. But her knowledge was entirely theoretical, so she supposed it was prudent to be careful. She edged a bit backwards.
Just in time. Milky fluid erupted from his member in three sharp bursts and splashed all over.
Sakura stared at the splatters on his shirt, thick enough not to be absorbed by the fabric as they were dripping down. At sticky fluid trickling down her fingers. She must have been starting for long seconds, until she finally managed to put two thoughts together. "Is it always so much of it?" she asked, blinking.
"No. Usually it's less."
"I think… I think you need to wash it." Sakura pointed to his shirt. She turned around and, discreetly wiping her hand against the ground, grabbed a scroll. Unsealing into third level, she retrieved a fresh shirt. "Here." She put it across his legs. At least there it was still clean.
Madara tugged himself in and took off his shirt. He made an impression as if he deliberately wasn't looking at her.
Sakura's heart wasn't slowing down. Did it go alright? Or was he upset again? "Are you embarrassed?" she fired the first question that came to her mind.
Madara turned his head and looked at her with a curious smile. "Yes. Actually, I am."
She wanted to curl into the herself and disappear.
"I think I haven't felt embarrassed for a good half of a century or longer," he continued. "So, that's quite refreshing to feel it again."
Sakura breathed out.
"Are you?" he asked back.
She nodded feeling her cheeks getting even redder than the must have been already. "Horribly embarrassed. But I'll survive. As long as I know that I did an okay job…?"
"I have no complains," said Madara overly seriously.
Sakura snorted at the joke.
As they lied down to sleep, it was Madara who fell into sleep first. Sakura was mesmerized – she never witnessed it before! Held tightly by him, she could pinpoint exactly the moment when his consciousness switched off – the minute relaxation of all the muscles, as if his body fell from a tiny cliff, and she was there to catch him. She stayed awake until the fire burnt out, just listening to him breathing.
It was his own utter stupidity that put that avalanche into motion. What had come onto him that he decided honesty in such a matter was even an option? Why did he lower his guard so much around her?
It was all his doing.
But at least she looked less unhappy now. Last couple of days she actually acted quite cheerful.
He hated himself on the first day, swore he would never repeat it. And when she came to him again, he caved in. She looked so miserable; he couldn't bear looking at her. She told him it brought her reprieve, made her happy. Something he did made her happy. Maybe it was wrong, surely it was wrong, and surely it was unwise, but… it made her happy.
If it would help her to keep going, he could be doing that, he had rationalized.
And then she came to him again, that time with this preposterous proposal. And she managed to get her way again, with those emotional blackmails of hers. Madara was seriously questioning his sanity. Why couldn't he deliver a better resistance? But seeing her physically recoil from his words when he tried to reject that insane idea was too much for him. She looked as if he had hit her; like a dog that had been kicked too often – he couldn't bear seeing her like that.
And he couldn't deny – after all this tension he also needed some release. And what she delivered, mixed with all the sentiments he felt for her – was a closest thing to a loving act that he had experienced in a century. Or maybe ever.
.
"So," started Madara one evening, after a day they made a good progress and the camp was for once in a dimension with actual structure. They even found a stone wall with an overhang to camp under. "How many months from the Tsukuyomi are we now? You do keep track, don't you?"
Sakura leafed through a pocket notebook she retrieved from her pouch. "Something like seventeen-eighteen months."
Madara made a quick calculation. Timing should fit. "So, it should be spring?"
Sakura's lips bent in sad grimace. "Yes. Not that there will be much of spring this year… Why do you bring it up? It only reminds me.."
"Here." Madara fished out a sealing scroll out of the pack. "Unseal it."
Sakura looked up to him. "What is it? What does it have to do with spring?" But she weaved the handseals. A rectangular piece of wood popped into existence, together with a cascade of small wooden pieces. They fell all over her lap as not expecting the onslaught, she failed to contain them.
"Shogi?" She picked up a piece from the ground and rolled it between her fingers. "Is it complete? Where did you find it? In Kiri?"
"No."
"It looks so new. Wait… Did you make it?!"
"Just something to kill time. It was a pleasant diversion and I thought you will like it."
Sakura considered him with slightly narrowed eyes. "I do. Of course, I do! But why are you giving it to me now? And it must have taken you weeks, why have you never mentioned that you're working on it?"
"From what you described birthday presents are supposed to be surprises."
Sakura blinked. "Is it?" She blinked some more. "Is it my birthday present?! Really?! Oh gods, thank you! Thank you so much."
Still holding the board in one hand she flung herself on his neck. Madara patted her back, not really knowing what to do with that sudden proximity.
"Maybe we could play a game or two?" he proposed.
"Sure! Of course! Now we can finally play properly. There is whole set of rules about how you should behave playing, you know? I never bothered when using those paper things, but now we can have some more ceremony around it. That will be a tiny luxury, finally not limiting ourselves to only that what is absolutely necessary."
She sat on her heels and started to divide the pieces. "Shikaku-san was always so meticulous when arranging them. There is a certain order it which you should place then before the game. I'm not sure if I remember, because Shikamaru was too lazy to follow the order, and I mostly played with him. But I think it went like this…" She placed gold generals left and right from the king and started to browse the pile in search for the silver ones.
Shikamaru was a former classmate and a friend, this much Madara knew. "Who is Shikaku?" he asked.
"Shikamaru's dad. Head of Nara clan and the main commander of the allied forces. He's... he was a really brilliant man." Sakura paused and swallowed. "Pity you've never met him; you would have liked him."
"Was he not involved in the battle?"
"He was in headquarters. He was coordinating the troops' movements."
"I see. Then I think I've met him. In a way. That coordinated attack was a thing of beauty."
Sakura nodded and fell silent for a moment. Then she took the piece between two fingers, with a distinctive clicked placed it further on the board and smiled at him. "It feels as it should! The shape and the weight are perfect! Even the sound is correct! How did you manage?!"
Madara shrugged. "I remembered a thing or two from my youth." He tactically omitted the fact that he re-made each piece at least four times over, to get them just perfect. "Let's start, shall we?"
"Yes! Now we can play the game as we should!" Sakura sat up straight. "With the proper ceremony."
The first party he won. It was happening from time to time recently. When her defeat became apparent, Sakura straightened up on her side of the board and bowed. "I have lost," she announced and started to collect the pieces.
The next game she won. It was Madara's turn to solemnly voice his defeat. Admitting to a loss tasted so alien on his tongue – in real life there was always another day, always some back-up plan or tactical lying in wait for an opening to appear. But he found that in front of her he could say it without this ugly pang of anger and shame. "I have lost," he said bowing forwards. In more ways than just in shogi.
AN: Thank you for reading, and please, do share your thoughts with me! There is a lot of development on the shippy field in this chapter - something I believe most people were waiting for - so please tell me what you think about it!