Between last chapter and this one, I was informed by a very kind reader that this story had been plagiarized. Again. The copy has since been taken down after a lot of pressuring. However I was very disheartened to find it had been posted since April, and that before this reader brought it to my attention, someone else had mentioned in the story's comments that it was a rip-off. I ask that going forward if you see something, say something. Immediately. About any of my fics. Never assume it's too small. Never assume I'd be annoyed you contacted me or that I may even be okay with stolen work that changes small details around or that too much time has passed. I, and any other fanfic writer I know, wants to be informed when they're being stolen from. It's just a hobby for many of us but it can be as thankless as it is rewarding. I have realized much to my shock recently, I've literally been in the Naruto fandom for half my life now (granted I am not that old) and I've seen the rise and fall of a lot in fandom spaces.
I stay because I've met some fantastic people and because I still want to finish my existing stories but theft and infrequent commenting is not how you keep content creators around. It's how you lose them. It's getting tiring to address this every six to eight months when a new case of theft of one of my fics crops up. If you love it so much then read and comment, maybe give me a shout-out to others you think would also enjoy it, but for the love of the gods don't just…take and assume I'd be okay with it. And please don't just passively say something to a copycat but not bring it to my attention if you see they have no intention of taking the story down.
Moving on…
Thank you for all the feedback last chapter and the positive responses. Not only was it just really pleasing (honestly some of you had long comments that absolutely made my night) but it gave me confidence in writing material that reflects the upped rating. That was really only a taste of what could be to come, and it can certainly get a lot…steamier. XD But we'll see. No need to get ahead of myself.
Also, thank you to the one reader that complimented my use of chapter titles. I've been waiting all this time for someone to notice the effort I put into choosing them! Each and every chapter is named carefully and tied directly to the contents therein, or themed appropriately. Sometimes there are even double meanings, in case anyone was wondering.
The air was chilled and stuffy, nothing but cool death creeping down through the thick stone walls. The stray water droplet occasionally slipped from stalagmite over their heads as they traversed further down, multiple footsteps meeting the slippery steps. Konoha had definitely spared every expense to keep prisoners as uncomfortable as possible.
Sasuke's dark eyes moved to the shadows behind his splashed on the wall. There were some among the village elite that would have him spend his days here instead of allowing him to come and go as he wanted. But Naruto was never one to sit back without meddling, and secretly, he was grateful this time.
"Watch your step, milady," One of the Hokage's escorts said, his voice echoing in the cavernous space. "You'll find the ground gets even slicker and more uneven the further down we go."
"The warning's appreciated, but," Tsunade sighed, "I've split a battlefield or two in my day. I should manage."
The party had arrived at the lowest cell block, apprehension high. A prison guard took the lead with the Hokage following behind and Sasuke at her side. Karin, who had been uncharacteristically silent up until then, dashed forward, her arm brushing his. "Are you holding up alright, Sasuke?" she whispered.
"Fine."
"Well I never expected Konoha to have a facility like this." Her head swiveled around, glancing at the scattered prisoners who leered out at them from behind the small windows in their cell doors. Once they had caught sight of the Hokage, a few became rowdy, calling out threats or demanding release, but the group didn't spare them another glance. "Makes the one they took me to for interrogation look downright cheery." she scoffed.
"You should be used to this, shouldn't you?" It likely came out more callous than intended, and Karin grew silent.
They had nearly reached the end of the block before she responded. "The thing is you never really get used to this environment. You just tell yourself you do."
"This is it."
"Open the door," The Hokage snapped, impatient. The guards scrambled to obey and the heavy metal swung back with a rusty scrape. Inside the small, dark cell was as cold and musty as the rest of the prison. A solitary figure sat hunched inside, lang black hair covering nearly his entire face. Sasuke took a moment to observe how pitiful he was, a hollow cough in his ears as the man straightened.
"Ah," the voice rasped, "The Leaf finally shows some hospitality. Visitors, eh? How very sentimental to see not only a dear old friend, but my favorite student and one of my greatest experiments."
Karin glowered, clenching Sasuke's arm protectively. He let her be, knowing she had to be fully aware just who of the three of them required the most protecting.
"Don't get used to it." Tsunade said, holding out the scroll in her manicured hand. "Does this look familiar?"
Orochimaru lifted his gaunt face. Narrow gold eyes focused in on the sealed scroll Sasuke had personally retrieved. His ashen skin was so unhealthy in the dim lighting of the cell, even with the First Hokage's DNA in the body he'd possessed, he was a breathing corpse. The interrogation masters of T&I had no doubt relished having one of the village's oldest enemies to work over. Prison had not been good to the sanin.
Whisked away shortly after the battle along with Kabuto, it was only recently Sasuke had learned that the once proud snake sanin was even alive. If the half-life he was granted could be considered any sort of life. "That old thing? Why, Sasuke, wherever did you find it?"
"Exactly where you keep all your other half-finished, dangerous schemes." Karin retorted, her eyes no doubt burning with venom.
"I take it this is no coincidence?" he clicked his tongue. "No one ever stops by to say hello. No," Gold eyes shined keenly. "This isss…a request?"
"Call it a demand." Tsunade corrected. "You've got nothing better to do, and holding off on your execution this long has been contingent upon you helping us cycle through as much of your research as possible." Sasuke admired the way she didn't beat around the bush.
"My, my Tsunade…no warmth at all for an old friend." He sighed, feigning disappointment. "Though I should have known better when you did this to me." He lifted a bony arm, pushing his sleeve aside with some effort due to the cuffs biting into his wrists, and showed them a rectangular seal branded into the underside of his forearm.
"You always did love to leave your mark." Tsunade mocked. "Ironic, I guess." Rolling her deceptively dainty shoulders, she moved on, "Onto business. Under close supervision you will finish that jutsu, at all costs, no later than the end of the month."
"Hm," Orochimaru craned his neck in thought. "That's an incredibly complicated jutsu based upon a theory not even I completely understand. Scraps I gathered from here and there across the globe in my travels." Smirking, he licked at his fangs. "This is about your apprentice, no? Sakura, was it? Desperation is a lovely shade on you, Tsunade."
Unamused, Sasuke's strike was swift, his arm pressing hard into his former master's windpipe. "Can you do it? Or should I cut you down here?"
Wheezing, his eyes rolled down, eyeing the arm guard settled against his throat. "The pupil...has finally…become the masss-ter…" He lifted a hand to clutch Sasuke's sleeve with a slack grip. "I trust…I'll have the…proper accommodations?"
"Whatever you need." Tsunade's tone was curt. "For the time being."
"K-Ka-Kabu…"
"We'll get you your pet," Karin grumbled. "But this had better work. I'd hate to be you once these Konoha folks get their hands on you if it doesn't."
Feeling satisfied the negotiations were complete, Sasuke let up. "He's on borrowed time either way."
The empty cups were piling up, though she tried to organize them into some semblance of neatness. Faintly, something sounded off in her brain, telling her perhaps she'd indulged enough, that she would regret it later.
Sakura sucked her sticky fingers clean and looked down into the shiny jelly of the half-eaten anmitsu, and she couldn't for the life of her figure how this could be so wrong, when it made her feel so good.
Besides, the alternative was really…just as bad, if not worse, for her health. She rubbed her thighs together and bit her lip, remembering like she'd been remembering for the past few nights. 'Shishou…' she mentally whined. 'Shishou, I…I'm sorry!' And she shoveled in another bite of her favorite comfort food.
It was the dead of winter, and more than once she'd woken up flustered and in a cold sweat, tangled in the sheets of her futon and gasping desperately for breath. The details of her dreams may have been blessedly fuzzy, but Sakura didn't need them to know that this time, it was very different from when she had been visited in her sleep by thoughts of destruction. The only imminent threat she was facing now, was the havoc being wreaked on her poor, unprepared body.
Blood rushed hot in her veins, keeping what felt like a near permanent flush on her face, all the way down her neck. The combination of heat and cold made her feel miserable, and she'd barely been out of her house in the last handful of days. The odds of seeing one of them was entirely too high. The only thing pushing her from the security of her dwelling was the need for food and some fresh air.
Sakura took the most optimal paths to where she needed to be every single time, choosing hours when she knew they were least likely to be in the same places. She got what she needed and she booked it back.
Was it pitiful? Yes. Could she keep it up forever? Absolutely not. But, she reminded herself, she didn't have to. Just long enough for the embarrassment to blow over. How could she look the Hokage (shishou's grandfather) in the eyes, when she'd seen—shamefully maybe even ogled—the most intimate part of him?
Sakura huffed, picking up the pace of her sweet consumption. Usamaro watched her curiously from across the table. He bent to sniff at a mostly empty cup, his eyes closed in inspection as he licked it several times. "What was I supposed to do?" she asked. "It was right there. It…It was so big!" She tossed her spoon down and smacked herself in the forehead.
'Oh, no!''
Just like that her mind took her back to the hot springs, letting her relive her out of body experience in vividly colored detail. It wasn't as if seeing a shirtless man was anything new, but if she'd thought sleeping between the Uchiha brothers on the return to the mainland was bad for her heart, seeing all of them soaking wet had been near-pulmonary arrest inducing. Then, Lord Hokage had climbed from the water and Sakura didn't need a machine to know her heart flat-lined.
Every time she'd viewed male genitalia it had been from the pages of a textbook or during a full body exam, in which case her mind had been clear and focused on her duty. Nothing felt anything less than strictly clinical—to feel otherwise during those moments would have made her a terrible medic.
But in such a setting there was nothing to keep her mind from noticing, in a less than professional fashion, that the penis she was viewing had a distracting vein leading almost to the head. No medical facts to draw her attention from the vague thought she'd had that closing one hand completely around it would have been hard. That…that it was hard, beaded in water like the rest of him.
Sakura choked, patting her hand to her chest and shaking her head vehemently. She would not go down the path of no return. She refused! Each of them had been attractive in their own ways. The years of battle that had produced men with toned muscles quite evident.
Acknowledging that in the privacy of her own head meant nothing. She hadn't even been the only one looking! Naoko was leering harder than her. And, Sakura wasn't positive, was sure she must have been kidding herself, but at times she swore their eyes zeroed in on her, too.
The moment when her towel's knot had come loose and her breasts had been exposed to the cold night air for those agonizingly long seconds, she was thinking Tobirama had seen, though he turned away just as quickly. The thought that he of all people would view her as a woman was probably the most ludicrous.
Nevertheless, the heat rushing down to pool between her legs hadn't really abated, and until it did, Sakura was avoiding anyone who could be directly responsible for making it worse.
So what if Ino would have laughed at her, urged her to just take care of it and get it over with. Maybe urged her to find someone to do that for her. A shudder prickled along her spine. It was out of the question, anyway.
She wasn't from this time. She couldn't afford to…to find someone, even if it was a one-time arrangement. That wasn't how she saw it happening, more to the point. The fact that the images kept playing in her head for so long made her feel guilty enough. These weren't ordinary men, and one in particular would go on not only to be a legend, but to have a granddaughter who was a legend in her own right. Even young, unmarried and handsome, Sakura felt the self-loathing creeping in.
Whether or not finding the bottom of a dessert bowl made her feel better or not, it was the route she was going with. The one that could scratch the itch was too turbulent. Troubled waters.
Ignoring the slight grumbles of complaint starting to arise from her stomach, Sakura lazily lifted another bit of anmitsu to her mouth. Let the spoon sit on her tongue, in no rush to pull it out. Someone knocked loudly on her front door, and she figured it might be Toka, maybe Yurine.
Both had been by to see her, to rant their own feelings about what had happened the other night. Toka apologized profusely, vowing to punish everyone involved in ruining what was supposed to be their stress-free evening.
Sakura had told her there was no need. Honestly, she wasn't sure how much the Senju was listening.
Untucking her legs from under the table, she got up with a stretch, debating on whether or not she was in any state for company.
Her hair might've been a little on the tangled side since she hadn't done much with it after rolling out of bed. But she was bathed and dressed and if Toka or Yurine could see her nearly bare, they could see her with some anmitsu smudged around her mouth.
Usamaro sprang from the table once he saw her on the move, anxious to beat her to greet the new arrival. Sakura scooped up her bowl on the way past, logically knowing she didn't need more but still wanting to have a few more bites.
She barely blinked as she opened the door, raising her hand in greeting and then taking in the sight of people she least expected or wanted to see standing anxiously in the frame. Eyes bulging out of her head, the spoon dropped from her mouth and, heart thudding, she closed the door with a slam harder than intended.
'This…this is really going too far!' She'd never imagined that after everything she'd tackled, this would be what she finally lost her sanity to.
"No…No one's there…" she rubbed at her eye and pulled the door open more carefully. Contrary to what she had told herself, people were there. Sakura sputtered incoherently and shut the door again. Usamaro looked up at her and hissed quietly, apparently tired of almost having the wood shut on his whiskers each time he poked his head out.
Sakura really couldn't be bothered with her cat's feelings when she was experiencing a personal crisis. Sliding down the sturdy wood, she sank to the floor and set the bowl aside. Usamaro nudged hard at her cheek, but when she didn't flinch he went chasing after what was left of her anmitsu.
'Why are they here?! I went two days without seeing them. Oh, but today is…' she racked her brain to make sure this was the correct date. It was. Normally today would be her weekly check-in on Madara. No matter how awkward that situation still was, she'd made a commitment as a med nin.
But Sakura tended to go in the early evenings, and it was barely lunch time, never mind sundown. Plus, Madara hadn't been on the other side of that door. In this case, that would have been her preferred visitor if she had to see any of them.
A lighter knock above her head had her craning her neck back. "Is this…is this a bad time?" Izuna's voice asked, unsure.
Naoko's laugh followed. "It seems like the two of you are a bit of an unwelcome sight." The woman's usual easy manner took some of the edge off. With her ear so close to the door, it sounded like she'd added at a whisper, "On the other hand maybe you're both too welcome of a sight…"
"H-Hold…" Sakura paused at the squeak in her voice, clearing her throat. "Hold on," she said more clearly, pushing her way up on shaky knees and then pressing her body flat against the wood. A few steadying breaths and she was as ready as she would ever be.
Stepping back, she opened the door again. Naoko rested most of her weight against one side, cocking her hip with a smirk. Izuna's face was openly concerned. And Hashi—Lord Hokage peered up at her anxiously, not meeting her eyes with a wide smile as he normally would. "Fine day for a visit," Naoko said.
Sakura swallowed, bobbing her head without really listening. What the three of them could be doing here, together, still alluded her, but she'd already slammed the door on them twice. Three times might just make it personal. "Do you want to come in?" she asked, feeling a little braver.
"I will," Naoko immediately trotted forward, brushing by as she fluffed out her hair and stepped inside. "Boys?" she called, quirking a brow.
It was funny the way Izuna and Hashirama both fumbled, apologizing under their breath to each other as they tried to enter at the same time. With some maneuvering and a few more apologies both men got in, and Sakura let the door swing closed more gently than the previous times.
Stepping back, she allowed them to get their bearings. Naoko surveyed the table, still littered with cleared bowls, nodding to herself. "Impressive."
"Ah," Sakura's cheeks heated. She toed away the bowl she'd sat on the floor. "It's…well it's been so cold, and anmitsu is my favorite, so I—" It sounded lame even to her ears but not one of them said anything about it. "It's a mess, sorry, but come sit down if you want to."
"Thank you," Izuna found a cushion and plopped down at her table as if he were oblivious to the mess around him. Usamaro immediately dashed over, his whole body vibrating with impressive force as he rubbed his head under Izuna's chin.
Sakura wanted to smile, in spite of her own conflicted feelings. It was nice to see the love affair between man and cat was still going strong. "Nice to see you too, Usamaro," Izuna indulged the cat's quest for attention, cupping his little face in the palm of his hand.
Hashirama, tall and broad and in a very thick kimono, sat down carefully, glancing over as Usamaro and Izuna got reacquainted.
Naoko flopped comfortably, perching her elbows on the table. "You know I've never been over," her eyes leapt around at the otherwise neat little space.
"Sorry about that," Sakura mumbled. "I've been a little under the weather the last few days."
"Are you alright?" Hashirama stared at her with deep brown eyes, and for just a second she forgot that her table was in its current state because she couldn't stop imagining him and his brother and the two Uchiha undressed. "Sakura-san if you're unwell, you should be resting." His frown became stern. "Even being a medic, you shouldn't take your health for granted."
She lowered her head, feeling guiltier. He was kind enough to worry…
"He's right," Izuna spoke up. Usamaro had migrated to his shoulders and was quite comfortable there. "We've probably been making you feel put upon lately. You've been seeing to Madara's recovery and Hashirama told me about how you helped the Senju last week as well. I'm sorry that we—"
"No," She shook her hands frantically. "It was nothing serious, and I'm completely fine now." She pasted on a smile Kakashi-sensei would have been proud of—closed eyes and everything—hoping they bought it. "Did you need my help?"
Naoko's smile was charming, and her eyes were too knowing. "Yes, actually. You see our dear Madara's birthday is days away."
Sakura twitched. This sounded eerily familiar…
"This has been a hard year for him," Izuna continued, staring down at the table. "He normally doesn't care for big celebrations, but we all were talking and thought just this once, it could lift his spirits."
"Oh," Sakura tried to refrain from asking some pressing questions, such as how she played into it.
Naoko had her covered, leaning forward with a bat of her beautiful lashes. "You're being recruited to this party planning committee. Short notice I'm afraid," she winked, "but we're seeking you to fill the last seat. What do you say?"
"I…" she babbled, understanding and lost at the same time, "I…w-why me?"
"Well…very few people understand Madara well." Hashirama sighed. "He's a bit complicated like that…"
Sakura certainly couldn't raise objections there. He'd been throwing her into multiple fits of frustration and confusion for months.
"We've noticed though, little by little, that you're becoming one of the people who seems capable of dealing with my brother." Izuna chuckled. Sakura scrunched her nose. "He'd probably never ask, but if something like this occurs, I think he'd want you there."
Sakura drew back, looking Izuna in the eyes with skepticism painted clearly on her face. Madara Uchiha, the Madara Uchiha, would want her at his birthday party? That was quite a jump in reasoning, if anyone asked her opinion, but the trio was so sure of themselves already…
"It's like Izuna says," Hashirama smiled softly in her direction. "Madara has an odd way of showing it, I know…but it's clear enough to us." He motioned to himself and the other two.
Sakura mulled that over. Huh. Could the blunt, often ill-timed 'humor' and temperamental behavior really be his way of expressing civility? Despite reassurances, she doubted it.
"I'm not sure I'm convinced, but if you really feel like I could help, it shouldn't be too hard to make time." Sakura put a finger to her lips, thinking. "I'm supposed to still be doing routine check-ups on him anyway." The shaky laugh that bubbled out gave her away.
"Sentimental pleas aside," Naoko said, "Whatever three heads can do, four can do better, no?"
Tucking a lock of hair behind an ear, Sakura breathed out, nodding.
Beaming, the dark-haired woman shot up. "Everyone in agreement? Perfect~" Naoko twirled. "I took the liberty of planning how this day should go."
Izuna shifted, uncomfortable. "We never agreed on putting you in cha—"
"If you ask me," she tapped at her cheek. "Finding the right sort of gift will take up the most time." Usamaro stopped playing with Izuna's ponytail long enough to crane his head after her. "When you've finished up in here, meet me outside and we'll get started." Flicking some hair over her shoulder, she left with a confident strut.
"Vivacious as always," Hashirama grinned.
"Right," Izuna rolled his eyes, getting to his own feet. The cat jumped down, back onto the table. "That's one word for it."
Sakura played with her fingers, not sure how to navigate the conversation without Naoko as the buffer. She hated herself for being so self-conscious suddenly, wondering if it was all in her head. The men in front of her were either made of steel or had developed a practiced casualness specifically for situations like this. Either way, they were to be envied.
Pushing herself up, Sakura blinked at them, biting one corner of her mouth. "I should go and put on my shoes."
Izuna sighed deeply, staring over his shoulder. "While you do that, I'm going to go and rein Naoko in now, before she gets out of hand later." Usamaro bounded after him with happy trills, but for the time being Sakura let him go. She trusted one of the Uchiha to shoo him back into the house.
Of course, with Izuna making his exit that left her face to face with Hashirama. Not knowing what else to say, she ducked her head. "I'll be right back!" she all but darted down the hall and into her bedroom.
The minute the door was shut she balled her hands into fists and rubbed them none too gently into her eyes. 'What the hell am I supposed to do now?! I should've never agreed to this.' Sakura glared at the wall, approximately where her front room and kitchen would be. 'Sorry Hokage-sama, it looks like this might be a bad day for me after all. Every time I look at you or Izuna I'm going to picture you nak—'
"Ugh," Sakura wrapped an arm around her mouth and screeched as quietly as she could. "Damn it!" she hissed.
She took her time putting on her shoes, straightened out her futon and moved it into a patch of sunlight streaming through her window, and checked to make sure nothing Usamaro could get into while she was gone was left lying about.
When she absolutely couldn't find anything else to stall over, she grudgingly made her way to meet the others.
Hashirama stepped back, admiring the speed at which he'd managed to tidy up Sakura's kitchen. 'And Tobirama says I can't get anything done,' he smirked. A little of the self confidence fell away as he thought of the pink-haired woman and how obviously anxious she'd been around them from the moment they'd stepped into her house.
They had all been worried, he knew. Two days wasn't a long time, and he'd gone longer than two days without really seeing her since she'd appeared in the village. But this time was different. Two days was more than long enough to figure out when he was being avoided. And he wasn't the only one.
Toka was still cold toward him, muttering under her breath and shooting him nasty looks. He had nightmares about finding senbon in tender places that severely reduced the chances of the Mokuton being passed on. Right now, he was…keeping his distance from Toka, but he knew she'd been by several times to see Sakura.
Reira would ask about the visits and she'd coolly mention that Sakura had been keeping different hours of late. Figuring out why didn't take the "less than two brain cells" Tobirama swore he didn't have.
It stung, imagining whatever friendship had slowly been sprouting was quashed in the early stages. Hashirama couldn't say he blamed her. Getting that up close and personal with someone she was still getting to know might have been too awkward to overcome.
Embarrassing as it was, it also wasn't the first time he'd been compromised. Only the first time with those outside his immediate family. That likely meant the way he was able to brush aside a great deal of his own humiliation wasn't how others would handle it. It definitely wasn't how Sakura was handling it.
For over a month the plan had been for he, Izuna and Naoko to throw Madara a celebration even he could enjoy. Then, last minutely Naoko had cheerfully suggested asking Sakura if she'd accompany them. Neither Izuna nor he expected her to say yes. Surprisingly, though, she had. But the discomfort on her face was plain to see, and knowing he was largely responsible made it all the worse.
Hashirama sat down at her table and traced a finger around an empty bowl that still clung to the sweet scent of the treat that had been in it. 'For a petite woman she didn't have any trouble eating her fill.' The revelation of Sakura's enormous sweet tooth was both unexpected but fitting. He couldn't say he didn't find it cute, if not a little concerning.
Slumping forward in defeat, Hashirama rested his chin on the table. 'How do I fix this? It's horrifying enough to not know if or when Toka will come charging at me…'
Stewing over not so obvious solutions was how she found him. Sakura came poking her head around the corner like a young rabbit deciding whether or not to leave her warren.
Hashirama sat up to give her the same smile he'd given Mei-san as a child when he wanted her to believe he'd be on his best behavior. Sakura blinked slowly, frowned a little, seemed to calm herself, and stepped forward. "Sorry about the wait. Oh," She had noticed his hasty tidying, and her pink mouth popped open. "You…you didn't have to, but thank you."
He stood to his full height, a head above her. "Don't mention it." he assured her. "Tobirama's harping on me about being organized constantly. Last minute cleaning up is how I tend to compromise with him."
Her shoulders loosened, if only just. "I'm guessing he wasn't exactly impressed by the state your office was in after we finished repotting your bonsai."
"No, no," Hashirama rubbed his neck. "I mean at the time he wasn't pleased. I got an earful about not respecting the 'dignity of a space meant for governing'." He decided against telling her that his reaction to the smell of the mulch was pretty similar to how hers had initially been.
Sakura cracked a smile, and his optimism soared. An opening presenting itself! Maybe finding his way back into her good graces wouldn't be as complicated as originally thought. "He hasn't found anything new to scold you over since then?"
Hashirama flinched involuntarily. "He's not…speaking to me actually." If Toka's mood had been an unpredictable storm on the horizon, Tobirama's was an all-out blizzard. An angry sensor-type was disturbing when they committed to being as frosty as Tobirama had been.
Hashirama had lost track of the number of times he'd walked into a seemingly empty room, not feeling the presence of a single soul. Only to have Tobirama burst into existence behind him, slamming a stack of paperwork down under his nose and wearing a face that was oh so transparent. Hashirama could see at least ten different ways his brother wished he'd die just by looking into those chilling red eyes.
It was the same reason so few people outside their parents and Mei-san had wanted to handle Tobirama as a baby. At one point there'd been talks of calling in a priest to examine the sullen infant, which ultimately were firmly dismissed.
Sakura cocked her head. "Are you going to be alright?" She had to have seen the fleeting glimpse of fear in his eyes. "He'll come around…won't he?"
"Sure," he stated, not wanting to worry her with the complications of his family troubles. "But we've kept them long enough for Naoko to have dashed off. If they're still outside, we can join them."
Sakura clasped her hands in front of her. "Alright," She moved to walk around him, dressed in a brilliant pea green kimono edged in white. Unthinkingly, he caught her arm, gently spinning her to face him.
A gasp passed her lips as her eyes darted up to his questioningly. Hashirama's thumb caught the corner of her mouth, wiping at a smear of syrup leftover from her plentiful helpings of anmitsu. It had been so natural in his mind. Made more sense in his thoughts.
Retrospect wasn't usually gracious to him anyway. The soft skin under the pad of his finger felt the way he'd briefly thought it would that night. Because in that wet, clinging towel he'd seen her smooth shoulders and her legs and nearly more of her bust than most women he knew would be comfortable showing a man who wasn't their lover. The path of sensation that recollection took him down wasn't one he needed to travel. Not here. Not now.
They drew apart almost faster than two evenly matched shinobi on the battlefield.
"Sakura-san, I'm sorry…"
"Did I really have food on my face this whole time?!"
After an abrupt pause, Hashirama saw the bright smile curling onto his face mirrored on hers, and before either knew it they were sharing friendly laughter.
When she allowed herself to forget about the formalities she felt he was due because of his station, he found they got along well.
"You know if we don't hurry they really will leave us behind." She pointed a thumb at the door, visibly more relaxed. "Naoko seemed like she had a full day planned."
"Izuna has had…varying degrees of success keeping her at least semi-subdued so far."
Hashirama hadn't met Madara's then-intended bride until they were teenagers. In the middle of a particularly chaotic battle a quick, beautiful girl with wildfire in her eyes had nearly poked her spear through his neck.
And then pleasantly introduced herself as Naoko, complimenting him on surviving her frontal assault. It wasn't until later when he would learn the girl, two years his senior, was to be Madara's wife one day. By now, he was well adjusted not only to the destructive style she preferred in a fight, but the spontaneity radiated from the depths of her very being.
"It's not the length of the day we should be worried about," he said breezily. "It's Naoko's penchant for cramming as much mayhem into a limited amount of hours as possible."
"I saw the look in her eyes," Sakura informed him, opening the front door. "I was already worried about that."
Sakura blinked rapidly as she stepped into the sunlight, Hashirama's much larger frame at her back. For a winter day it wasn't as cold and dreary as she'd been expecting, and that meant more people were likely to be out. Thankfully, Izuna and Naoko were standing nearby, although by their expressions they'd been in a heated discussion.
Izuna turned away after a sharp hiss of words and a heated glare. Naoko didn't exactly look pleased, stubbornly holding a disgruntled pout.
Tension had only just broken with the Hokage. She didn't even want to imagine whatever that was about. "Have you thought of any leads?" Sakura asked innocently. Both Uchiha snapped to attention, putting away whatever had them displeased impressively fast.
"It goes without saying he needs no new weaponry." Naoko placed a hand to her hip.
"There's nothing that could ever replace his gunbai, is there?" Hashirama mused. "In tandem with the kama of course."
Sakura wondered why none of them appeared fazed by the attention they were receiving as they walked. She focused on not meeting anyone's eyes, instead staring at her naughty cat, who had decided to follow them around. But eyeing Usamaro's fluffy, cute tail didn't change the fact that she still felt the crowds pressing in.
It was to be expected really, what with the fact that she was walking alongside the village leader and two members of the Uchiha clan, both of them wearing the family crest in plain sight on their clothing. 'And me…plain old Sakura.'
Anxiety crept up like an obnoxious old acquaintance. For half her life she had spent more time around important people than most without a noble lineage could boast. Her friends and teammates, her sensei, now this. Sakura occasionally wrestled with feelings of inferiority, but it had been some time since those old insecurities had paid her a visit. Now suddenly, out in the open with so many strange faces peeking curiously, here she was again.
A woman dragging her child mid-tantrum crossed their path. Unfocused, Sakura lost her balance and stumbled, only for a warm hand to seize her by the bicep and pull her upright. "Careful," Breathless, green eyes met black and she granted Izuna a shaky smile.
"I'm okay."
"Are you sure you're up for this?" Izuna pulled her around two flustered men who seemed to be arguing, one of them pointing down to a cage he was holding full of pigeons.
The memory of how they'd met on a crowded street shortly after she'd arrived came to mind. Sakura had been lost, anxious, fresh from battle and filthy, but Izuna had smiled warmly at her, and the unexpectedly friendly encounter had been grounding in a way.
Following that train of thought, Izuna had been there for her constantly since then, always willing to do what he could to help. Always a friend. In any small way she could, Sakura wanted to return the favor. Even if that meant helping him give Madara, someone she still wasn't quite sure if she truly liked, a memorable birthday experience.
"Definitely!" Sakura fist pumped, barely suppressing her signature "shannaro!"
"The burst of passion is appreciated." Izuna teased, and Sakura wondered if she'd overdone it. He began to guide her to where she could see Hashirama and Naoko up ahead and waiting. They had no choice but to pause, though. Hashirama was half-surrounded by adoring villagers while Naoko stood off to the side, fully enjoying herself.
"What can I say?" Sakura shrugged, "I'm serious about gift giving." On a case by case basis, but Izuna had no use for that information. "B-Because you know whatever you give someone…when they look at it they'll think of you forever,"
"That's true enough," Izuna spoke above the noise of the street. "My parents hardly ever gave us gifts as children,"
Sakura frowned.
"Well…" he went on, "Not in the traditional sense. Most of what we got were 'character building experiences' as they called them. My brothers and I just thought it was a way to make us do chores and get us to believe we were being rewarded." A small smile touched his full lips. "Regardless, to this day when I see a fresh block of goat cheese, I remember the year we all had to milk the clan's livestock and my father's face pops into my head. You should see the face Madara makes when he smells fresh goat milk."
Without warning, Sakura let loose a high-pitched laugh that surprised even herself. Cheeks red, she clapped both hands over her mouth. Izuna didn't seem to mind. He looked…relieved.
"So it did make you laugh," his expression softened further. "If that hadn't worked it would've been awkward, I'm not always the best with casual humor."
The thought struck like a direct hit from a rogue jutsu. Izuna had been worried about her since they'd shown up on her doorstep. He was trying to make her feel relaxed, and it was working.
No matter the awkwardness lingering from the hot spring fiasco, or the time before that when she'd been him get carried away and stab his brother through, spending time together felt so right. That in itself was scary.
"Thank you," she spoke at a hush, but the way his lips turned up, she knew he'd heard.
Izuna bumped her with his shoulder gently. "I'd say we should rescue Hashirama but he seems to be enjoying his adoring public if you ask me."
They moved in closer, right up behind the people who had the other two members of their group surrounded, just in time to hear one of the Hokage's boisterous laughs. Sakura had to concur; he definitely looked like he was having fun.
Sunny weather aside the air was still nippy enough to give everyone pink faces and, if they were wearing open-toed sandals, cold toes. Yet no one was bothered by any of that, too busy basking in the light of Hashirama himself. Two children, one small and sitting atop an older boy's shoulders, offered him something pale orange and round. The tall man stooped forward and held out his hand, letting the child gleefully drop a fruit into it.
"A satsuma orange!" Hashirama exclaimed, examining the unbruised skin. "One of my favorites in this season." He took the time to pat both of them on the head fondly, and they ran off through the crowd, giggling.
"He really knows how to make an impact on people," Sakura found herself saying aloud. There was just no end of good will from the villagers toward the Hokage. Really it was only natural. If everyone loathed their leader it would be a sign of an unsure political climate and cause for concern. But again and again, as Sakura had watched Hashirama interacting with others, she'd seen how treasured he was, and how he treasured those around him just as much.
Izuna made a noise of agreement above her head. "Hashirama possesses the kind of spirit that wraps you in its brightness. It's…hard to look at directly, but also hard to resist wanting to be close to."
Sakura canted her head, just watching.
"It's always nice to see the village flourish no matter the season," the brunette was saying. "Take care and stay warm everyone," he waved, politely dismissing himself, and as the crowd of people began to shift and part, she and Izuna rushed forward to get closer.
Naoko had also been quietly observing, but she greeted them with a genuine—if Sakura was learning to read her correctly—smirk. "Welcome back." The way her eyes trailed up and down the both of them made her feel uncomfortable about whatever was running through that head of hers. "You look much looser. The talk was a success?" she leered.
"Naoko," Izuna glared. "Please stop with the unnecessary amount of innuendo." Catching Sakura's eyes, he added, "We're in broad daylight."
She shrugged, looking as if she wanted to make one of her usual quips, but mercifully thought to spare them. "If we're finished here then I think we should finally get down to business,"
"Me too!" Sakura perked up, not really because she was that enthusiastic about Madara getting the perfect gift so much as she'd do anything to steer conversation away from where it'd been headed, and keep it in safe territory.
Satisfied, Naoko motioned for them to follow her, taking the lead. "First up, let's take a look in the artisan area. The man could do with some new lacquerware."
ASiT
Sakura let her hands hover above an exquisite tea-ware set, wanting to touch, then thinking better of it and lowering her hands. While she was aware of the craft she hadn't paid a great deal of attention to it before, and she was starting to think that was a real shame. The things they saw as they perused the shop covered floor to ceiling in lacquered items, were quite fascinating.
On several shelves to the immediate right upon entering, there were lacquered animal and religious statues depicting deities. Sakura shied away from the area with a cringe when one of the shop owners happily listed off the gods and goddesses they had made idols of.
Strategically placed around the medium-sized space so that guests could study it without tripping themselves, was lacquered furniture. Rich blue cabinets with shiny handles she suspected were real gold stood proudly on display. There were a variety of accompanying pieces of black lacquered furniture with intricate gold trimming that featured carefully detailed murals across them.
Some of finely dressed people fishing on beautiful red bridges. Some of innocent family meals. A few of colorfully patterned koi or autumn leaves floating across what was clearly a still river.
Each new design impressed Sakura more and more. The prices, however, made her gulp and inch away nervously. She definitely couldn't afford to purchase anything she might accidentally damage with her inhuman strength. There was one piece she couldn't help but touch though, a bar cabinet she thought had to be the best looking of the entire collection. It came up just past her hip, so gold and sparkling it took her breath away. There was a wide rectangular drawer underneath the top, and a vertically split door directly beneath that. Both had a carefully fitted black framing, the tiny curved knobs delicate and silver.
Most eye-catching, was that the top and every side of the furniture featured some different scene. The flat surface featured bamboo so artfully rendered she could nearly smell it. Somehow the thin body of the plant was a distinct enough color of beige to stand out from the gold. The front drawers were covered in pink and white lotuses, appearing as if they'd just bloomed.
To say she was enamored was a small understatement.
"Look at this one, Izuna," Naoko called out. Izuna was staring at a lacquered cat statue with glowing eyes, but reluctantly turned away to go to the older Uchiha.
"Madara collects it, if you can believe that."
Sakura jumped, just a little, as Hashirama popped up beside her. He had a bad habit of doing that, she'd recognized. Never seemed to think for even a second it was unsettling.
"I can see why." she said honestly. "Everything in here looks like it could be in a daimyo's palace."
"What amazing praise, miss! Thank you!" A blushing woman fanned herself as she rushed by with tools Sakura could only assume were to work on another piece.
Hashirama considered the particular cabinet she'd been admiring. "It's certainly opulent enough." He considered. "The Senju have a sizable collection too, and it's displayed at different gathering points in the compound."
Sakura didn't speak on that for a moment. Somehow, she often forgot just how wealthy clans such as the Hyuga, Senju and Uchiha were. Growing up alongside children from said clans, she had come to view them as peers and herself as their equal. But, in terms of wealth, their stations were far from the same, and now she had confirmation that generational wealth stretched as far back as the Founders era.
Clearing his throat, he murmured so only she could hear, "I wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable,"
And she wholeheartedly believed him. Hashirama had hardly proved to be the type to flaunt that above others. He was a Hokage of the people, after all.
"I guess I was just thinking about how amazing it is that large clans accrue so much wealth and pass it on through generations." she replied, looking him in the eye so he knew she wasn't upset. "I still don't really know a lot of things about how clans actually operate internally, and the acquisition of money is one of those things." She shifted nervously from one foot to the other, worried he might find her too nosy.
Instead he smiled, a thoughtful glint in his deep eyes. "That's a lengthier story than I could tell in a lacquerware shop. Toka might explain it better. I'm told the only concern I seem to have with money is how I can gamble it away."
Sakura's heart stuttered, reminded of the strange story she'd been told during her last visit to the Senju compound.
Hashirama read her expression and pouted, "I always win it back twofold." Sakura quirked her brow, amused. If that were true and his luck was infinitely better than her shishou's, then how would he feel about knowing he had a descendent known in gambling circles as the Legendary Sucker?
Before she could inquire a little more about that hobby of his, they heard steadily rising voices that had them both turning in concern.
"Absolutely not," Izuna said flatly. Naoko was holding a very intimidating mask out in front of her, showing it to him.
Sakura shivered. It was the traditionally ugly face of a demon, wide crazed eyes, sharp teeth, drooping ears and wicked tusks. Stony silver instead of the ordinary fierce red though.
"This would hang well over the mantle, you have to admit that much." Naoko narrowed her eyes and dared him to disagree.
"There must be hundreds of things to choose from here, and you find that to be the most tasteful piece you could pick?" Izuna hissed, waving his hand at the oni face. Peering at the shop owners who were looking on, lost, he offered them a more polite smile. "It's beautiful craftsmanship, of course," he complimented. "Only…"
"No need to explain, son," The older mustachioed man shook his head. "I made the blasted thing and sometimes when I walk in early to open up shop and it's still dark out, seeing it scares me senseless."
"I always thought it was sort of handsome," The woman who had passed by with the tools cupped her cheek and tilted her head to stare at the mask head on, "In a morbid sort of way."
"My thoughts exactly," The Uchiha puffed her chest out in pride.
"It's still too hideous to display above the mantle." Izuna drawled. "We'll find something else. Something that doesn't make anyone who looks at it feel like they're in danger of getting dragged to the underworld."
Sakura could feel her palms starting to sweat. Not very long ago they had all been engaged in a fearsome life or death battle with the God of Death. Izuna couldn't have forgotten that any more than she had. Maybe…maybe what Naoko didn't realize was that the memory was all still just a little too fresh? Too close to the surface? She began to wonder if she should speak up in Izuna's defense. But then how much did Naoko know about that mission?
And really, that was assuming her guess was even correct. It could also just have been that, as had been pointed out several times already, it was a very repulsive mask, and looking at it every time one walked into a room would be all the more stomach turning for the realism.
"Tch," Naoko scoffed, only clenching her fingers tighter around the ornate decoration, "Izuna-chan, you're not intimidated by this are you?"
"Not really," he replied. "But all things considered I don't think he'd appreciate the reminder of the sticking face incident."
A glance toward Hashirama gave her the sense that he was just as clueless as she was. Whatever they were referring to was inside information between the two, like a secret. But even if they kept it between themselves, they at least seemed to be over the worst of their arguing.
Naoko's twinkling eyes shone with recognition and she carefully put the mask back where she'd gotten it. "Understandable. The panels then?"
Izuna nodded once, firm. "It should be your present to him."
Sakura watched them go back and forth, noting the dynamics at work. Far from what she'd glimpsed between Naoko and Madara, the relationship she shared with Izuna appeared much less…complicated. More than anything the two reminded her of siblings, sometimes mixing well despite their differing personalities, sometimes engaging in heated debate.
Hashirama patted at her shoulder as if he understood exactly how she felt. "They get like this sometimes." he whispered.
"Couldn't help but see it," Sakura sighed. "I feel like we really weren't even needed here."
Hashirama chuckled. "Not this time." He glanced around secretively. Naoko and Izuna were speaking to the shop owners together as if their disagreement had never happened. The kunoichi in particular was making lots of hand gestures while Izuna nodded along with every other word she said.
"You've seen by now how Uchiha can be. They run very hot about nearly everything. Fighting, hobbies, opinions, love… For those two, they formed a bond a long time ago over the person they care about most. And I guess somewhere along the line I was allowed to join in that circle, once they decided I met their standards." he joked. "If I had to speculate I'd say this is you being officially pulled into the fold, Sakura-san."
For all her intelligence, Sakura wasn't sure if she was really comprehending. "F-Fold? You mean like a club?"
Hashirama hummed, mulling it over. "More or less, in an unofficial capacity."
In the way it almost did, the pinkette's brain seized on information that stood out to her. "You said their bond comes from someone they care about most…and someone they think you care about enough to let you be in this 'club' too. That means…"
"Welcome to Team Madara." The Hokage gave her a goofy thumbs up. "Be glad you didn't have to prove yourself through any initiation." The glazed dismay in his eyes told her he was revisiting an uncomfortable place. "That was a bad week…"
Sakura sputtered, then blanched. It was just a further confirmation of what she'd decided months back, or possibly even longer ago than that—the Senju, the Uchiha, all of them were somewhere on the spectrum of certifiably insane.
Daylight was dwindling away when Sakura returned home, pondering over her day. Usamaro brushed at her ankles, meowing persistently. Smiling down at her furry companion, she lifted him into his arms for the cuddling he wanted walking down her quiet street.
After being dragged from one shop to the next by the trio, and then having Hashirama insist they should stop and recharge with a meal (which ended up being some very satisfying beef and vegetable skewers), Sakura couldn't say she was surprised by how quickly time had passed by.
Naoko had her lacquerware gift, and though he didn't physically buy anything, Izuna said he knew what he was purchasing for his brother, too. Hashirama explained he'd keep brainstorming ideas and get something the next day, and Sakura supposed that meant she'd need to go back out and join them as well.
The ground crunched beneath her feet as her shadow stretched just behind her. Admittedly the whole affair was even stranger than the last time she'd gone gift shopping for a birthday. And call it obligation, but if she was seriously expected to attend the celebration thrown for Madara at the compound, showing up empty handed seemed unacceptable.
Outside her quaint house, Usamaro hopped down from her arms, and Sakura stopped to wave at an elderly couple who lived across from her and seemed to be enjoying the outdoors on their front porch, hands interlocked. She seldom saw her neighbors as busy as she'd been, and part of her felt badly about not being more polite and introducing herself. But there were more important things, such as getting home. Back to her real home.
Palm splayed against the wood of her door, she stiffened, eyes narrowing at the thick, roiling aura she could feel from inside.
Usamaro picked up on her body language, going rigid with sharp feline eyes locked dead ahead. Animals were incredibly perceptive, and her cat proved that again and again. Not wanting to startle her neighbors by bursting into her own home swinging, she bid them one more sweet smile before casually entering the abode as if nothing was wrong. The second the door shut was another matter, though.
"What do you think you're doing here?!" She hissed, stabbing a finger in the direction of the Uchiha at her chabudai. By the looks of it, he was right in the middle of a light snack, and the stare he gave her was one of utter boredom.
All the cold and tiredness Sakura had been feeling completely melted away. It was replaced swiftly with bone-deep contempt. Not enough to stir the dragon's fire but plenty enough to make her quake and her chakra crackle.
"The real question," he said, calmly nibbling at the end of a piece of fresh bread that she could tell had come from her own bread box. "Is where have you been? We've had the prior arrangement of you coming to the compound for weeks."
Sakura's spiteful retort died on her tongue when she heard the low, ferocious growl of her cat. He was stalking forward, hair raised and eyes dilated. The yowl was his only warning, and then the cat was charging at Madara with impressive speed, claws out.
Completely unfazed, Madara leaned to the side and the irritated Usamaro flew over his shoulder. Not to be discouraged he was quick to land on his feet and pivot, hissing. Sipping the tea he'd also taken the liberty of fixing himself, Madara eyed the animal lazily. "How fitting that you keep such a savage cat as a pet."
Marching over, shoulders hunched forward and fists balled, Sakura glowered down at her very unwelcome visitor. "You might not remember Usamaro right now but it's obvious he remembers you."
Taking her agitated pet from the floor, she subtly rubbed chakra into his back, hoping to soothe him if only because she didn't feel like explaining to Izuna how Madara lost an eye. It took some hushed whispers and firm rubbing to calm the puffed cat down, but eventually Usamaro had at least put his claws away. "You know it's rude to just barge into someone's house when they're not home and eat their food—is that…is that my kirin mitsu from Sekai?!"
Sakura hadn't even got around to tasting the rare and exotic treat, wanting to put it aside for a special occasion. Now she stared down in mounting anger, noticing the two pieces of bread Madara had were slathered liberally.
Flicking his eyes to follow hers, he took another bite of the stolen food. "It's better than you'd expect coming from a place as backwards as that."
Sakura let Usamaro jump down when she was afraid she would start squeezing him too hard. The cat scuttled to the edge of the room, into the shadows of the corner not touched by the fading natural sunlight with a parting growl in the Uchiha's direction.
She felt like doing some growling of her own. "You shouldn't be here," The urge to flip the entire table was strong. She'd saved enough mission pay to replace it, and the simple tea set she had. Seeing Madara covered in tea and jelly and indignity would be sweet reward enough.
Sighing as if she were just too simple to understand, he rose, coming around the table to look down at her. Sakura half-thought about reaching for her concealed kunai and slashing without warning. "We had a deal. You seemed keen to abandon it today, and I can't leave my recovery to chance. I intend to be fully healed in body and mind by the end of winter."
Still not over the fact that Madara had the audacity to sample her rare jelly before she could, the face she gave him was a sour one. "I visit in the evenings, at my leisure." She spat. Really she'd only been doing the favor for Izuna, who she considered a friend. As she'd told him during their last tense conversation, her feelings toward him were very much undecided. But doing things like this made it easy to remember why she'd been cursing his existence for months. "There was no reason for you to break in."
"Did I truly break in though?" He spread his arms out to the side with a small smirk.
"Yes!" She sputtered, heat rising up in her breast at the casual arrogance of it all. "How can you not see that letting yourself into someone's house when they're not there is wrong!" Sakura couldn't help but stamp her foot to punctuate her point, a scroll falling off the wall.
"You didn't have any special seals to keep out intruders. Any shinobi worth the title could have done the same," he dismissed.
Sakura flushed. She'd only removed her seals because she'd gotten used to this version of the village and come to trust the people, for the most part.
Her neighborhood was peaceful, and she knew that while she was away on missions children like Reira and Kagami and Chisato came and played with Usamaro. She wasn't how adept any of them were at seal-work, so she opted to not bar them entry.
They were reliable children so far and she hadn't come home to anything out of place yet. This, though, was a grown man being impatient who didn't understand the sense of violation entering someone's home without permission brought on.
"It's still not an open invitation." she seethed. "You still should have waited until I came to you."
"When you deviate from the schedule how am I supposed to know if it'll still happen," he accused, somehow managing to look convinced it was all her doing.
"I have a life outside of catering to your every medical need," Feeling defiant, Sakura let her hands settle down on her hips. There was an ember of heat that sparked up in his eyes, but it was gone so fast she could've imagined it.
"Congratulations," Madara sneered, taking his tea from the table again and drinking more. Despite all but chugging it, even that action looked graceful when it came from him. Sakura squeezed her eyes shut tight and then massaged her temple. She didn't want to compliment him in any small way, "You have a life. You've managed to avoid being pitiable by only a small increment."
This was an old song and dance routine they fell into, Sakura acknowledged. The same music and the same steps. She should have been better at not rising to the bait. She wanted to be. But no one she'd met in the past got under her skin the way Madara Uchiha could.
To think, only an hour ago she'd been dragged out because his birthday was coming up. She had been told she was fully recognized as a member of Madara's inner circle. Sakura didn't want that distinction. It came with more problems than benefits. Worst of all, it came with Madara himself. 'Return to sender,' she thought. "Are you really….provoking the person who has access to your internal organs?"
Setting the now empty teacup down, Madara paused thoughtfully, but if she expected he'd ever reflect on his actions and come away apologetic she was sorely mistaken.
"You have access to more than those, Haruno." The ember was back, growing into something stronger. Sakura swallowed, her skin pebbling as it rose. "As long as you're acting as my medic, my whole body is yours." He snatched up her hand, pressing it to his stomach. "So I expect you to take care of it." The velvety husk of his voice near her ear made her weak in the knees.
She squawked, words not coming out right. Her first instinct was to draw her hand away from the warm, hard muscles that she could feel underneath his shirt. She'd been doing such a good job of forgetting about his role in the state she'd been in after the hot springs.
While she hadn't gotten the eyeful of him she'd seen of the Hokage, water dribbling down pale flesh, the deep navel and the veering lines beneath it…had all been within sight.
Her fingers twitched, and she noticed a distinct lack of wrapping. "The gauze…"
Madara lifted his shirt without hesitation to show her the neatly sewn flesh, without even a sliver of a line where a gruesome injury should have been. "It was Hashirama," he growled. "That pushy bastard managed to heal me after all."
Sakura nodded slowly, bringing her gaze up to his face as soon as possible. "He did good work." She said, hoping he didn't notice the slight crack of her voice. "You shouldn't have any more issues if the Hokage himself treated it." Her eyes dropped to glance at her hands, and she removed the one touching him post-haste. "There's nothing left for me to do. He's incredible."
"Incredible?" Madara repeated, a trace of disbelief in his tone.
"His skills as a medic and his fighting abilities are the stuff of legend." Sakura clamped her mouth shut before she could slip. Madara eyed her strangely. "So I've heard."
For reasons unknown to her, he scowled lightly, his shirt falling back in place as he let it go. "He's a bubbly fool that forces help on others. Stubborn." Staring dead into her face, he made a sound of appraisal. "It makes sense now,"
Sakura could feel her face heating up, knowing she'd been insulted again. But even if it was an insult, he had indirectly compared her to Hashirama, and that wasn't a bad thing in her mind. Getting to know him as the man and not the myth, he wasn't…exactly what she'd been expecting, but that was better. Now, he was human.
Sakura rolled her eyes, and when they landed it was on the spot behind him. Her table. Madara's abandoned plate of bread and jelly sat innocently. The previous mess of bowls she'd had stacked there were gone, something she'd only just noticed.
"I couldn't very well eat in the middle of your mess." he explained. "My skin was crawling at the thought of someone sucking down that much dessert in one sitting." Sakura gasped, offended, when he stared pointedly at her (flat) stomach. "If I wasn't convinced before, that would be ample evidence that you are a touch inhuman. At least as far as appetites go."
"Get out!" She yelled, motioning to the door. "If my eating habits bother you so much, stop showing up unannounced and it won't be a problem." What did he know?! Occasionally she had trouble over indulging in moments of weakness, it was true. But she was a med-nin! If anyone knew the importance of diet and exercise and what the body needed to thrive, it was certainly her.
She preached it to Naruto, and even Kakashi-sensei, often enough. Ironically Sai was the only one who listened to what she told him the first time. Wrangling Team 7's nutrition was neither here nor there, though. Madara Uchiha had some nerve.
"A touchy topic." A mischievous grin curled at his lips. "Fine then, but I still have every reason to be here." His face slid back into a more stern expression. "You chose to take responsibility for my head injury, or have you developed amnesia of your own?" he goaded.
Sakura's eyes drifted to the top of his head, still covered generously in thick, inky hair that fell down his back in a mane of spikes.
Here and now, with Madara's arrogant taunting and lack of boundaries, he wasn't much different to how he'd been before the fateful twist the mission had taken. Sakura couldn't say she was relieved over the reemergence of this side of him. How things appeared on the surface and how he was still grappling with his missing memories in the recesses of his mind were two different things, and she knew that.
"If you were here because of that, you could've said something way sooner." Finding she no longer had the energy to stand, Sakura plopped down at the chabudai and Madara followed suit. She glared as he reclaimed his (stolen) snack without missing a beat and began chewing.
"It should have been obvious," Madara replied, sucking blue mitsu from his thumb. Static crackled through her head as she took in the care he used licking the digit clean. The weather outside notwithstanding, sweat was gathering at the nape of her neck. Sakura hated this, and she had no one to really vent to about it. Ever since the hot spring disaster it felt like she was hyper-aware of all of them. She couldn't tell if they were as effected as she was or if she was all on her own. She didn't want the answer either way.
"There's no rushing this, Madara," she said, managing a tone of absolute professionalism, if not tinged with just the hint of exasperation. "If you want the truth, it hasn't been very long and you're making solid progress, giving facts. People with your condition can go on for much longer without recovering anything. Sometimes they never do,"
He stopped eating, the air of nonchalance falling away like a silk curtain ripped away. There was a stressed tightness in the troughs beneath his eyes, his lips stilled. So subtly a blink would've missed it, his eyes widened. "What are you suggesting? I'm at the mercy of time? That I may have to accept my memory being in tatters for good?"
Sakura would be lying if she said she didn't feel anything for his predicament. It was Madara, but amnesia had made him vulnerable in a way most people didn't appreciate being. "I'm saying every instance of amnesia I've ever seen has been different, and I'd sleep easier if I didn't make promises about things I have no control over."
He frowned bitterly at her, and she frowned right back. "It doesn't mean we have to stop trying. The exercises I've been doing with you and the ones you do when I'm not there are vital, but slow and steady does it. There's no magic solution. I can't just put my hands on you and heal it."
Again, Madara's eyes flashed. Differently this time, though. Sakura saw an emotion that was far from ambiguous. Hope. It was enough to soften his face considerably. She'd never thought Madara Uchiha could look…innocent. She didn't have time to silently question what had put the optimism in his eyes, because he started speaking with confidence, "It might be out of your power, but not out of a higher power's."
Her mouth fell open a little. "I…didn't take you as the prayerful type."
"Haruno, stop playing naïve." he countered, leaning in. "We've both witnessed incredible events on that island. Your goddess was responsible for partially restoring my memories so that I could join the fight,"
Mizuchi and Madara had shown up to the battle simultaneously. She hadn't put much thought into it then, the heat of the clash already underway. But the simple explanation provided that Mizuchi had just gone in and given him back what he needed to know…could it really have been so simple the entire time?
Sakura sat stunned speechless. "The merit of this idea is clearly coming to you now." The Uchiha appeared a little too smug with himself, all because he'd thought it up first. "I want an audience with your deity."
The finality with which he spoke snapped Sakura from the endless loop her thoughts had spiraled into. "What?" she chuckled, disbelieving.
Mizuchi was hardly as forthcoming to her about answers as she should be half the time. There was always some riddle to work through first, always some argument and prying and frustration. Sakura was almost used to it, the odd rapport she and the dragon goddess had. But Madara was another story.
He was an outsider in that hard-won, tentative bond. She couldn't see the ever-capricious deity giving Madara his memories back because it was a nice thing to do. Not without a struggle. "H-Hold on a minute. You don't know Mizuchi like I do. She's very particular about what she expects and unpredictable."
"So is Naoko." He shrugged minutely. "And I nearly married her."
Sakura groaned. "Naoko isn't an ancient being who could slaughter a clan in an afternoon!"
Madara took that news about as well as expected, wide-eyed, and Sakura cursed herself. She hadn't told anyone she knew about Mizuchi's destruction of the Kaguya clan. Enough time had passed that she would have thought news would have spread, though. Calming herself, she pinched her nose, then let it go. "I'll…I'll talk to her. By myself first." With his haughty attitude he was liable to approach Mizuchi making demands that wouldn't at all sit well with a temperamental goddess who wasn't above retaliation.
"Regaining my memories could very well effect the future of the Uchiha clan." Madara leaned back, taking another bite of bread. "No pressure."
Sakura glowered. "Are you done?"
"Is my plate cleared?" he retorted. He reached for the next slice, but Sakura had spite-fueled speed on her side and snatched it out from under his nose, cramming as much as possible past her lips.
Madara stared at her unblinkingly as she chewed, cheeks bulging and a smidge of the refreshing, tropical mitsu dribbling from her mouth.
In hindsight, she'd think about the ramifications of eating something he'd already put into his mouth. But he'd already overstayed his welcome and she needed him gone as quickly as possible so she could think with a clear head.
"It is now," she jumped to her feet.
"Well played," he complimented, lazy admiration on his face.
The Uchiha leaned forward until his chest was flat against the wooden surface, in some strange stretch. Seconds later Usamaro soared over his head, claws outstretched and fangs bared, back for a second sneak attack. Landing in the center of the table, the feline hissed viciously.
Sakura wasn't sure if she wanted to save Madara from the maiming Usamaro was intent on delivering, so she watched the man lurch to the side and out of his spot. The spotted cat leapt down into the area he'd vacated, eyes glowing with contempt.
"He's giving you one last warning," Sakura yawned, the events of the day only just catching up to her. "And so am I."
Madara didn't put up the fight she'd half-expected. He took one more survey of her home and nodded in her direction. "Don't take long to deliver, Haruno."
Usamaro meowed loudly, leaping in and out of the smoke Madara disappeared in.
"I think he's really gone this time," Sakura told him, waving a hand in front of her face and bending down to take the discarded plate. She looked at her reflection, dabbing the jelly from her mouth and licking her finger.
Without the fog of infuriation to stop her from experiencing the taste, Sakura realized how delicious it really was. No one touched her sweets and just…got away with it. He owed her.
A vaguely devious idea sparked to life. Celebrations had sweets. She was already an invited guest. If she went and…indulged in as much as she wanted, it wouldn't be in poor taste at all.
Usamaro stared up at her sullenly, claws slowly retracting back into his fluffy paws. The cat's memory was almost as infallible as her own, and there was no doubt he wanted his pound of flesh.
If Madara ever returned when Usamaro was around and she wasn't he could probably get the drop on him eventually. The cat was crafty, tenacious, and driven by a large amount of vengeance for a small body. However…The Uchiha coveted their eyes, and their leader losing one to a cat wouldn't bode well, would it?
Sakura pouted. She'd have to do…the right thing. 'I definitely have to start using seals again.'
Given the right motivation, mankind made such interesting choices. The majority of them lived in complete ignorance to the fact that those seemingly innocuous decisions had such powerful ripple effects long past their lifetimes. Mizuchi had watched from imprisonment for millennia as humans made a mess of things, and really that should have convinced her wholly they could never learn. But it only served to make the flawed but fascinating contingent called humanity more entertaining.
Freed from their oppressors, the former slaves built monuments to her, their liberator, over the bones of their captors. She hadn't asked them for devotion. Frankly she hadn't set out with the benevolent goal of saving them in mind. She had wanted the blood of the wicked, and in the wake she left grateful people, in awe of her might and starved for someone to supplicate themselves in front of. That being, Mizuchi thought as she sipped from the goblet her handmaids had offered, became her.
Yes, humans were fascinating. Resilient, but creatures of habit. They gave the Kaguya servitude because it was forced. Hardly expending any effort, she had broken those shackles, only to watch them scramble to bind themselves to her instead. Though she had no use for a following, Mizuchi allowed them. Perhaps that was her own arrogance. Time would tell. But it had been so many long, long centuries since she had true worshippers, and now in a short time they were numbered in the hundreds. It was a small but growing faction. They called themselves…
"You there," She lounged against the throne that had belonged to a now-dead man. With just a languid motion of her hand, the young girl carrying a hardy offering of roasted lamb scrambled over, dropping to her knees and lifting the tray. "What is it that you call yourselves again? Remind me."
The girl peered up through loose, shining brown curls, smiling shyly. "We are the Covenant of Dragon's Fire. By your flames you allowed each and every one of us to be reborn." Mizuchi rolled her stiffened neck. "You—"
"It's a bit wordy for my tastes," she said, but she really had no further thought on it. She directed all her attention to the meat offered to her. Mizuchi studied it idly, tapping her chin. What deity had first insisted that humans showed proper deference through offerings of food and drink? They had need for neither. At least not what could be found on earth...
They got all the sustenance they needed from the heavenly realm. Human foods were easy to indulge in, though, and they took the edge off. Mizuchi accepted the mutton, ripping into it. Tender, juicy meat rich on her tongue. Dropping what she didn't want, she waved the girl away.
No sooner did she pad away on slipper-clad feet than the connection tugged at her. It started above her navel and then spread across her entire vessel. She was being summoned, and the goddess thought a bit fondly that she never needed three guesses who.
Alone in the quite of the throne room, she held out her hand, made a circle with a finger, and watched the floating form of an eye fill into existence. Through its pupil she saw her progeny waiting out in the forest, by the river where they'd often meet. Anxiety flowed through the connection, but Sakura worried often.
Rising, Mizuchi stepped through with a flutter of her new silken kimono—hand-made by another devoted attendee—rising up in a twist of water from the bed of the river. Sakura fell back, startled, and the deity withheld a smirk. She had grown tired of simply bursting into being from within the portal of the eye. Sadly Sakura didn't appreciate the creativity of her theatrics.
"You could do that all along?" she asked. Glaring, she put a hand on her hip. "Then why've you been using such a creepy method?!" Thinking better of it, Sakura clamped her mouth shut.
Mizuchi watched on in amusement as the pink-haired mortal shook her head. "No, I stand by what I said the first time." Sucking in a deep breath, she continued, "Stop coming through eyeballs if you've got a less disturbing method!"
"I didn't realize it bothered you so," Mizuchi's eyes couldn't help but drift down near her feet, where a basket filled to the prim with ripe fruit sat on the bank. "And this offering is?"
Sakura glanced down, dropping and grabbing up the basket. "I realized I never really left you offerings or anything, and I didn't know what you liked, but…I thought if it was a high enough quality than it should be alright." Mizuchi skated forward, taking the basket from the lightly trembling hands that held them and sifting around in it. There were oranges, persimmons and even half a dozen pears. None of which could have been easy to come by with the weather. Sakura had certainly outdone herself.
"This is no ordinary gathering of fruit," Rubbing her thumb along the delicate skin of a persimmon, she lifted it to study at eye-level.
Lowering her face, Sakura began speaking at a mumble. "It's all out of season so I went to a little farm village that grows exports in glass gardens."
Her sharp teeth pierced the tender skin, a sweet, tangy flavor overflowing from the matured fruit. "Tricky girl."
Sakura didn't back down, eyes shrewd as Mizuchi devoured one persimmon, then another. "I thought you'd appreciate the effort."
"You are clever, Sakura." Mizuchi began going through the basket, wondering what she should sample next. "Exceptional effort for an exceptional favor…is that not the exchange you were hoping for?"
She nodded, clasping her hands to her chest. "I wanted to come prepared. Ever since that mission, that battle, it's really put a lot in perspective about how dangerous this is getting."
Stepping forward, Mizuchi stretched forth a hand and lifted her face. "I intend to continue to guide you. Your mission is my own after all."
"I appreciate that, because I literally wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you." she reminded. As if Mizuchi could ever forget. She had waited not only for the right time, the strength to choose a human to carry out her goals, but for the right spirit. And peering through the crack of her prison into the mortal realm gave her a glimpse of the state of the world. Sakura's fierce, giving heart was exactly what was needed. "So it might be a little presumptuous of me, but since I'm going along with all this, I figured it'd be okay to ask you something."
Sensing the unease coming from the mortal, Mizuchi dropped her hand from the girl's chin. "Proceed,"
"About what you did for Madara…you said you gave him some of his memories back so he could join the fight. But he still has amnesia," Whether or not she was aware, Sakura's green eyes danced bright with thought after thought. She was carefully choosing each word, trying to coax her toward an outcome that landed in the pinkette's favor.
Her little human was a clever one, always learning and absorbing. "Yes. I gave him back those memories that would make him as formidable as he once was in battle. Nothing more."
"Then you could restore all of the rest?" She queried, out in a rush. Mizuchi felt her fangs scrape her bottom lip as she grinned.
"Is that what this is all for? That proud Uchiha has asked you to appeal to me on his behalf?" Cupping her own cheek in a hand, smelling the sticky juice of the persimmon on her fingers, the goddess continued to smile. "Has he finally learned humility?"
Sakura appeared to be seriously mulling the question over. "A little. But he's also really impatient. He turned up at my house unannounced yesterday," she made a disgruntled face, "It did get me wondering if maybe you could do it."
"I cannot." She said simply.
Sakura gaped, eyes widening, "Just like that? I know it's probably too trivial for you to really put a lot of thought into, but if you do it, Madara would be out of my hair—"
"No." Madara Uchiha didn't deserve someone half as stubborn and kind-hearted as Sakura to help him, Mizuchi decided.
The pain he had caused her directly, further along in the timeline, she had watched from her prison. Sakura had come through time when the flames of that burn hadn't been doused. Seeing him again so soon had only stoked the anger before. Gradually, she was softening, because Sakura's was a spirit of mercy, even at great cost to herself.
Instead of fighting her, as Mizuchi would have expected, the girl closed her eyes and bit into the flesh of her palm.
"What are you doing?" she asked warmly.
Sakura cracked open only one eye, and it was filled with childish defiance. Unwillingly, she let go of her palm to reply, "I'm going to count down, and if I still feel frustrated when I'm done, I'm just going to dunk my head underwater and scream."
"What an elaborate calming technique,"
"I know when I'm being patronized," Sakura snipped, plopping down on the cold ground. "Why can't you help? What's stopping you this time?"
"Sakura, I can do many things, but each deity has their own unique talents, much like you humans. The mind is entirely too delicate a thing," she sat down facing her. "I suppose I should have put thought into the consequences of only partially restoring certain memories. Of course he would yearn to have them all back. But my powers aren't suited for such a thing. If I were to continue tampering with his head, it's possible I could heal him,"
She gasped, the green of her orbs coming alive. "Or I could damage his mind irreversibly, and there would be no trace of the man you know as Madara Uchiha. There would be no trace of a man at all."
Because she knew her progeny blamed herself enough for some silly reason, she had thought she was being courteous in withholding that information. It hadn't mattered ultimately because she'd found just enough to piece at least Madara's ability to function in battle back together.
"Wait," Sakura looked horrified as the thought dawned on her. "That means when you did it before, you had no idea if it was going to work? You…you could've turned his mind to mush."
Mizuchi wondered when Sakura would stop reacting with such…human naiveté about tough decisions. Never, she supposed. Then, that was what she'd found so endearing about the spunky kunoichi, wasn't it? "I believe war tacticians call it a measured risk. It was an unfair fight, Sakura, and we needed every man."
Sakura placed her face into her palms and moaned. Her fingers split open a fraction, revealing the corner of one eye. "How many more of these unfair fights do I have to go?" her muffled voice came through her hands. Mizuchi gave her a look, and Sakura uncovered her mouth. "You never gave me a time-frame. I've…I've already been in the past way too long, my parents, my friends…they might think I'm…"
"An unfortunate price to pay." Mizuchi wanted to be sympathetic. She understood that by nature mortals were more sentimental than gods. The life of a human was so limited, and their attachments defined them. Deities weren't meant to have such attachments. The bonds one deity formed with another were often so…superficial. Meeting Kaguya, growing to care for and love the human girl as a sister had shown her how much different it could be. "You understand what is at stake by now, don't you? The others will stop at nothing to rectify what they see as a grave wrong. Actions of the magnitude I'm imagining wouldn't spare those you care about further in time."
Something crumpled, and Mizuchi was sorely reminded of how young she was. Sniffling, Sakura rubbed a wrist under her eye. "I…I want to go home."
"Home." The word settled on her tongue like a new food with an indescribable flavor. "Of all the concepts humans hold dear, that one may be the most perplexing of all. Home is physical but also transient for you."
Lowering her arm, the pinkette stared with watery eyes. "You're right, it's complicated." Drawing her knees to her chest, she wrapped her arms around them and laid her chin atop them. "I mean sometimes home is a place, somewhere comfortable and safe where you're settled. Like the village. But it's also people, and memories," she paused glumly. "None of this makes sense to you." she stated. "That's why you're asking at all."
"You have a talent for finding what's unspoken."
"Well," Sakura shrugged. "My first teacher was always saying we should look underneath the underneath. Not that it made any sense to me then. The only thing I was trying to see underneath was his stupid mask." Scooting forward, she watched the calm, undoubtedly freezing water of the river.
"This teacher of yours sounds fairly enigmatic."
"Kakashi-sensei definitely kept us at arm's length for a long time," she agreed with a slow nod. "One of my other teammate's too. He was…" She bit her lip, a tell-tale sign of fighting against nerves, "my first crush." Her laugh was slow and tired. "I told him I loved him. I said I'd leave the village if it was for him."
The goddess wasn't sure how they had moved onto such a topic, but Sakura seemed unable to stop herself, and she felt it only fair to allow her these opportunities to speak her mind, when she asked so very much of the young mortal. "Even during the war I asked him if there was any part of him that still thought of me at all. I don't know what I was expecting. I don't even know if I wanted him to say yes. I just had to know. I was so..." Sakura buried her face into her knees and held it there.
Feeling compelled to act, Mizuchi ran her fingers through the pastel hair. It slid through them like silk, never catching. "Why would you wish to return to a place that holds such painful memories? It may take time, but you have it to spare; why not simply find a home here?"
Sakura's head shot up so fast Mizuchi retracted her hand on instinct. "I can't run away and abandon my whole life just because some parts of it hurt!" Her lips were bright from the cold and her nibbling, and her eyes were wild.
"And I can't live forever in a time I don't belong to. Who knows what would change! Who knows what's already changed! The Kaguya weren't supposed to be here. Madara wasn't supposed to get amnesia. From what it sounds like Izuna's supposed to be d-dead." That sentence came out around a considerable lump in her throat and a misty-eyed blink. "So I'll do what I have to in order to get home, but I know I can't stay. That was never part of the agreement,"
"It was only a thought." She couldn't understand the ire the girl was feeling. She had been adjusting to her circumstances far better than Mizuchi had initially hoped. "You seem to be forming bonds here, and these changes you've made…who can say that they're bad just because they're new?"
"That's beside the point," Sakura ran a hand down her face. "None of this is normal. Every day it feels like a dream. But it's not. Now the longer I stay the more my old life feels like a dream. W-What if one day I wake up and think it is? What if everyone I ever knew thinks I was the dream?" Her voice grew quieter, cracking as she gave freedom to a fear she had clearly been keeping locked deep in her heart. Speaking it aloud was all it took for the dams to give way, and surprised hiccups grew to be quiet sobs.
Wordlessly, she gathered Sakura into her arms, ignoring the wetness falling onto her neck. "I assure you, you won't be forgotten so easily. Not your original timeline, and after the impact you've had, not here."
Sakura drew away, her face tracked by shining trails. "B-But how much time is passing? Are months passing there like they are here?"
"If all goes well, time will not matter." Mizuchi soothed. "If it's what you desire, I can grant you the time you've lost to my mission."
"R-Really?" There was so much hope in her fragile voice, it was painful. "So it'll be like I never left."
"Your changes would remain in effect, otherwise all we've done would be for nothing. But, yes...your absence won't be truly felt."
Sakura climbed from her lap, composing herself right then and there. "I can do this." she whispered.
"Yes." Mizuchi encouraged, "You can." Resting a hand in rosy hair again, she let her cool lips touch the center of Sakura's forehead. "In the meanwhile, destiny calls."
Takeaways here: Sakura has been accepted/recruited (against her will) into Madara's inner circle. The Madara Defense Club if you will. Enjoy those benefits as a card-carrying member, Sakura. But all that really means is Madara now feels comfortable enough to break into her house whenever he feels it's necessary.
Also, yes she's incredibly sexually frustrated here but unwilling to do anything about it besides eat her feelings because she's ashamed over it all. In all fairness to her and her conflicted feelings, Sakura has been in the past just under five months. Not really long enough to completely give her heart away to not one but four people, or even be ready to entertain the idea that she could becoming attracted to people she has told herself are off limits. Give it time!
I also want to thank the speculation of why Sakura's a closet pervert that happened on an old forum, because it served as strong inspiration for the angst in this chapter. Aside from Sakura knowing the future and that she doesn't really belong in the time period she finds herself, thus being reluctant to act on any budding attractions…someone also suggested that although played for laughs Sakura often seems embarrassed and upset that she has a libido. She's open with her feelings toward Sasuke in canon but the forum pointed out any moments where she's caught off guard and aroused (like with Naruto's pervy pranks), while meant to be humorous, she seems to be very angry about even feeling that way. And I just found that whole speculation very interesting and built from there. I also am sort of fond of headcanons involving Sakura having a legit sugar addiction. Food addictions can sadly be overlooked, and in a lot of filler material Sakura can be seen overindulging a bit in sweets. Here she sort of…punishes herself by binge eating her favorite comfort food. So in case you haven't guessed it. Yes, angst ahoy in the future. If you don't think Hashirama and Sakura can be awkward, oblivious, angsting dorks together think again. And if you don't think Madara and Sakura could aggressively banter their way into a passionate but healthy relationship one day, you're wrong. XD
In case anyone is curious, the artisan craft of lacquering items is a very ancient and celebrated one coming from Japan. There are a number of different techniques depending on what you're lacquering and if you look up pictures, many things are incredibly gorgeous. Today, the nation of Japan considers some recovered items National Treasures, they're that precious and beautiful. I tried to do them justice with my descriptions. I feel like Madara would appreciate that kind of beauty. Not to mention bigger lacquered pieces ain't cheap so he shows his rich bitch status just a bit by collecting this stuff.
*Madara's birthday may or may not be covered in depth, depending on how long I decide I want next chapter to be...there's already a lot to fit in before the start of next arc.
It should go without saying that in order to keep trying to squeeze out updates while busy I would like to see the reviews keep coming in. I'd prefer not to say it every update, but if I have to I have to: if you're reading this, then don't forget the most important thing on your end is reviewing as often as possible.
I really want to officially start the arc at ch.40. A lot is coming up for me in the next several months, and how inclined I feel to give my free time over to updates depends pretty strongly on how much reader interaction I'm seeing.
