I knew this week would be busy for me, because of work. Coincidentally it is also my birthday week, so happy birthday to me. I decided to try to write another chapter and let the chips fall where they may as far as when it would be ready to put out. I shortened it from what I originally planned, but still feel it turned out a decent length.
Madara stepped out of the meeting hall and into a warm breeze that promised an early spring, feeling accomplished. People trickled out behind him, bidding him goodbye with respectful dips of their heads.
Some only met eyes, and he met theirs back, unconcerned with who might have been offended by what. It seemed in his stint of convalescence, there had been murmurs and stirrings. He called the meeting with the intention of taking note of just how successful Maro had been at creating dissension in the ranks.
It also served the purpose of being a strong reminder that he was still in charge, and had no plans to relinquish leadership as clan head. He grew tired of his clansman's games, sitting and waiting for the man to slip up and make a move. Judging by the discussion in the meeting, Maro was just as antsy.
He had something oppositional to say to nearly everything Madara uttered, disguised in the form of a well-meaning difference of opinion, of course. Hitting back with equally eloquently crafted rebuttals undoubtedly gave the room pause. Maro couldn't outmatch him in cunning—at worst they were equals there.
And the Uchiha head could see that fact wasn't lost on the others. They knew better than to let his young age sway them into believing he couldn't meet anyone interested in debating him intellectual blow for blow. He would not be cowed or cornered.
Frankly, he saw it as an insulting waste of his time.
There were so many things he could be doing instead, like hunting with his birds or getting Haruno to take his courtship seriously.
He hated to think that Izuna's dewy eyed, open-hearted approach was superior, but…clearly it was working. Haruno never actually invited him over for tea. He just made a point to…appear when he thought he had the best chance of running into her. At least his baskets were well-received. Although he hadn't been offered a single dish made from the ingredients he dropped off, so maybe he wasn't obvious enough.
As he stood near the clan's largest meeting hall and contemplated the particularities of his approach, an unimposing presence stepped close to him. Not Maro or any of those who might be inclined to lend him an ear. "Truly wonderful to see you well again, Lord Madara." said one of the older members of the council.
Really, he remembered his father muttering that the man was grown when he was just a boy, so there was no guessing at his exact age. But it had to be four times Madara's own. Still, for an old-timer he proved fairly open-minded, hardly ever letting biases cloud his judgement when weighing in.
That, Madara could appreciate. "Thank you." he returned. "Enjoy the rest of your evening."
Deciding he had best get home as well, he finally stepped away from the building, out onto the compound streets where a few who had attended the meeting whispered and lingered.
Other clan members finished their errands for the day, the same man who always sold his chickens' eggs in the market herding them like usual. The same mother fussing at her children as she steered them down the street. The same older kids, fresh from the academy, racing each other home.
It was so similar to when the Uchiha had occupied their own territory, and yet so changed…more serene. People could think what they wanted about him. Madara was very aware of his reputation, that he was considered cold, ruthless and enigmatic by many. Since his first kill, possibly before that and all the way back to birth, he had no shortage of enemies.
But, what he cared for above all else was the safety and well-being of his clan. As long as they could thrive in Konoha, he would do whatever was necessary to protect that. Shame those like Maro couldn't see and share in that vision.
Heavy clouds floated through the dusk sky, making Madara wonder if they would have rain overnight.
All thoughts of the possible change in weather evaporated the moment he stepped in his house. Something was amiss. Izuna shouldn't have been home. He was off brokering a new munitions deal for them in Sora-ku. No sooner had the source of the ominous presence registered than she had sprung at him.
A hand latched tightly to his collar, jerking him into the face of an impeccably beautiful, sneering woman. One he knew all too well. "There are better ways to get my attention." he taunted, "Now I suggest turning me loose if this is as far as you intend to go."
"If I hold tighter, what recourse would you have?" the goddess laughed, "Special eyes may impress other humans, but I'm a dragon, in case you've forgotten."
She certainly had the claws of one. Madara would never admit it, but her grip was starting to hurt, nails tearing his shirt and poking against his skin. "Is that all this was? A reminder of your superiority? How dull."
"Sakura, for reasons I fully suspect not even she knows, tolerates your presence more and more these days. I find you insufferable." Mizuchi spat, finally releasing him. Guarded, Madara put several quick paces of space between them. Though Izuna would be livid over their destroyed house, if necessary he would simply activate his Susano'o. Maybe his ocular powers couldn't subdue her, but if this irate goddess wanted to dance, he intended to give her a memorable one.
"I see," he smirked, "This stems from overprotectiveness. Haruno is her own person, free to associate with whom she pleases. You boasted mere moments ago that you were a dragon, and I am indeed just a man. But…is throwing a tantrum not far beneath your status?"
"Tell me, Uchiha," Mizuchi ground out with the effort to cage her palpable irritation, "How have your nights been? If you've suffered the consequences I suspect from contact with the Well, you might have recently found sleep harder to come by."
The shinobi tensed, hating how her eyes glimmered with knowledge, able to discern him in the blink of an eye.
"What concern is it of yours how I sleep?" he asked, "You're quite meddlesome."
"Do not act coy with me. I know your fate. I've seen it once before." Mizuchi advanced, and in spite of the baser instincts alerting him to the predator behind the pretty face, Madara did not move. "You have me to thank for your brother's life. Me to thank for the information that allowed you to retrieve your memories." Stopping just short of being in his personal space, she grinned sharply. "Of course now it begins. Time will tell what becomes of you…but I am willing to bet it won't be the most favorable for you."
Very few things ruffled him, as a general rule. It spoke to how adept Mizuchi was at being unerringly chilling. A goddess coldly explaining she knew his fate, and that it was not a good one made him wonder if she had set him up all along. "The chance of witnessing my demise certainly seems to bring you immense joy. What do you know, scaly wretch?"
Her smile only grew colder, eyes icing over to match. "You dipped too far down, didn't you? You saw too much. All it takes is a moment of hesitation, or a modicum of doubt, and the Well eats away at you. So, I assume you've already fallen unconscious for a period of time. During which, you saw many memories. Some you recognized, and some you did not. Perhaps you were even able to…interact with people, hm? Is any of this sounding familiar?"
At that moment he saw the children he had spoken to, both seeming much more aware than he was. He hadn't met them again, not even in the deepest fits of restless sleep. "You know what's been happening to me, which means you also know why."
"Think of it, just how many versions of yourself do you believe there are? Only one? You'd be frightfully wrong." The goddess opened her hands, an orb of water resting gently there. As she toyed with it, it took on the shape of a small person. "The you of the present exists simultaneously with many other versions. The you of the past, the you of the future, the you that could have been, and the you that could yet still be...many possibilities form the forked branches of fate." With each example given, she plucked at the water, until multiple people identical to the first floated there.
"By rescuing your brother, and leading you to the well, I presented but one path. As your soul traversed through the countless planes of your existence...you encountered things...images that confused you. What do you presume you saw?"
"You're telling me I traveled through time," the Uchiha deduced, staring hard at the molded water. "I saw various outcomes that have yet to occur."
"Is it sinking in? The Well is special and dangerous for that reason. You fell unconscious and dislodged your soul from its physical vessel from the shock of taking in so many of your memories. As it bounced around, looking for its way back to its proper place`, it flitted between planes." Smashing her hands together, the water became a single glob, bouncing around chaotically. It zipped right by his face, Madara reflexively leaning back as the liquid skimmed his nose.
"Of course none would be the right fit for the you existing in the present. You would be forcibly ejected until you found your way back. That doesn't mean you couldn't temporarily overlap with the consciousness of another version of yourself." The ball of water split itself into two, both orbiting his head.
Madara remembered the initial time, when it felt more like he was living that moment than observing it as an outsider. It was also the only time people had spoken to him directly. Those children acted like they knew him, because they did. A future version of him at least. "Enlightening. I wished to know myself, and the Well made it possible in the deepest sense."
Much as he hated to agree with the bossy, ill-tempered goddess, she was correct that such an opportunity could be dangerous in the wrong hands. What would a man desperate enough to know his fate do to obtain such knowledge? How mad would it drive him to try changing it in vain?
"You explained earlier I wouldn't like my impending fate, but contradicted yourself just now. The road of destiny is a complicated path."
"That is correct." the goddess conceded. Her water dissipated all together, leaving them eye to eye once more. "I'm just that certain that even with so many choices available to you, you will still make the wrong one, Madara Uchiha."
Fire prickled under his skin. She was so nonchalant and smug it grated at him immensely. For a being so haughty, who required assistance from a mortal to do her dirty work, she did not have as much room to talk as she pretended she did. "Proving you incorrect will be easy. It's only fair I warn you now that I'll relish your humiliation."
"Hm." Mizuchi sniffed. "Let us see who commands fate best in the end." Like thread unraveling from a spool, her body transformed into a whirl of liquid, evaporating soon after.
Madara was nowhere near optimistic enough to think he had seen or heard the last of her.
Everyone had the occasional bad hair day. Sakura had more than her fair share over the years, but this…
It was her fault, really. She had been rushing in the market, wanting to finish her shopping up. The pinkette agreed to meet Izuna at the Uchiha compound for time at the lake—a pleasant surprise, since she thought he was still out of the village. Now she was running late, having run back home to change clothes and wash her hair several times.
Whatever had splashed all over her when she bumped into another shopper carried a tangy, pungent odor and left a heavy, slimy texture in her hair that became unbearably crunchy even as she dashed home. The smell had lifted, thank whatever deity currently didn't want her dead.
But the funny texture? Sakura wanted to weep. What if it never came out? Sheering off all her hair to start again would be awful. As minutes ticked by with her fighting her tangled hair and Usamaro looked on in sympathy, the kunoichi was beginning to get desperate. The last thing she wanted was to stand Izuna up, but could she really allow him to see her in this state?
Fighting evil gods was no problem, but sorting out her hair appeared to be beyond her capabilities. Sakura tossed down her brush, sweeping her hair up into a sloppy bun and securing it with a scrap of ribbon tied tight.
It would do for the time being. After visiting Izuna, she would go find one of her girl friends and hope they had a solution.
Frankly, Sakura had not counted on the wave of self-consciousness that fell on her shoulders to be out in the street. Despite knowing her paranoia was to blame, it felt as if everyone she passed was looking at her hair in astonishment or disgust.
Even when she reached the compound, the pinkette could barely look the sentries at the gates in the eye. The closer Sakura got to reaching the lake, the more doubt surfaced. Izuna was her friend, and always ready to extend his understanding. Still, it embarrassed her nevertheless.
The day was at least pleasant, spring having made it clear that it was there to stay. The drafty days, chances of snowfall and slow reawakening of nature was nowhere to be found this year. Sakura hoped Mizuchi knew what she was doing, upsetting the delicate cycle of the seasons and all.
The clear lake lapped at the dock gently, birds flying from nearby trees with songs warbling from their throats. It was so perfectly scenic Sakura forgot all about her woes, basking in the calm. Allowing a smile to raise her lips, she scanned the view for the Uchiha she had come to meet. There was only one person staring out over the lake, hair toyed with by the breeze, and it was not Izuna.
Ice froze up in her veins at the unpleasant surprise. "You seem to run late more and more often, Haruno."
"Madara." Sakura deadpanned. "I don't need this today."
Obviously Izuna had grown tired of waiting and left, not that she blamed him. She was tardy first. "I would say it's quite discourteous to keep someone waiting and then leave immediately upon arriving without hearing them out."
Sakura stopped to toss a suspicious glance over her shoulder. "What are you saying? Izuna's the one who invited me."
Sighing, the Uchiha head crossed his arms, "Izuna is off attending to clan business in Sora-ku. I'm the one who summoned you. What ever gave you the impression that it was my brother?"
Pulling out the message, Sakura let her eyes skim over it again. It was a normal invitation to meet in the afternoon at the Uchiha compound's lakeside. The writing was definitely Madara's, now that she took a closer look. And there was no signature, but she had assumed.
"This doesn't…sound like you." she defended, growing flustered as he arched a brow.
"Not every action I take is designed to antagonize you."
"Funny how you claim one thing, but go about things in a way that kind of feels like the opposite." Sakura shook her head. "I don't know why you'd invite me here, but this is cryptic." Actually, it was pretty serene, and with the right person it could have even felt romantic. That person being Madara changed the context entirely.
"I decided because you often tolerate me being in your space, I could bring you into mine." he explained.
"This isn't your house."
"Had I invited you to my house, and you arrived to find we were alone together, no doubt you would have accused me of trying something suggestive."
Well, Sakura agreed he had a point. "That's because you usually do try something suggestive.
She watched his shoulders drop. "Consider this a break from that pattern. Just as simply as you've changed your hair."
A hand immediately flew to her head, Sakura's cheeks coloring as she realized in horror Madara of all people had seen it.
"I'm going home!" she blurted, unable to come back with a witty retort. The pinkette considered herself fast, but in her panic, Madara was quicker, seizing her by the wrist before she was able to bolt.
"Haruno, I don't think I'll ever fully understand your erratic behavior." The impatient huff that left his lips blew warm air directly into her face, making it heat further. "We've seen each other in far less decent states. This is only hair—"
"Easy for you to say," she pulled away, grumbling. "W-wait, why are you bringing up those times when we..." No, Sakura just wanted to ride out her bad hair day alone. She couldn't handle Madara being Madara. "Just forget it!"
As she turned to make her exit, saving whatever face she could, arms snaked themselves around her from behind. Sakura hardly had time to turn and yell when the next second they were transported indoors. Breaking out of the shinobi's grip, the young woman spun on him with fire in her chest. "What's the big idea? I already told you I'm going home, so why bring me here?" To prolong her suffering? To tease her?
"It's unlike you to run." Madara noted. "If anything you would at least stay to castigate me. Has your appearance really effected you that greatly?"
"You wouldn't understand." Sakura said. In the grand scheme of public humiliations, a bad hair day was far from the top of the worst. Madara was still the last person she wanted to witness even this small insecurity, given his penchant for pressing her buttons. That he hadn't take the opportunity to do so in some way yet was surprising.
In one deft move, Madara had snatched her bun loose, leaving her messy hair to fall in its shameful, tangled clumps. "Hey!" Having had enough, Sakura swung, only for him to avoid the blow at the last minute.
"Everyone has had to tame unruly hair before, Haruno." Madara rolled his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic." Of all Uchiha to be calling her dramatic! Grasping her wrist again, he began all but pulling her from the front room and down the hall. "Come along."
"Let go!" she hissed, alarmed.
"Do you want this fixed or not?" he returned flatly.
Curiosity getting the best of her, Sakura stopped resisting just long enough to be tugged into a bedroom.
Madara had been speaking with utmost sincerity when he told Haruno he didn't understand her erratic moods. It seemed no matter the topic of discussion, he managed to rile her up. It wasn't always intentional. Mentioning the change to her hair was to let her know that he paid attention. Women normally liked it when men noticed the little things, or so he had thought.
It occurred to him only when Madara was close enough to see how embarrassed she appeared, that maybe the abrupt change in hairstyle wasn't to draw attention, but the opposite.
Haruno would try and kick him if she could hear his thoughts, but if anything Madara found it fortuitous. Here he had been prepared to create an opportunity if one didn't present itself. It looked like there would be no need.
"Is this...your bedroom?" Haruno whispered. Madara paused in his collection of the needed items. This was her first time seeing his private quarters, and while he would have preferred it to be under more interesting circumstances, he was pleased that she sounded impressed. He kept everything orderly—regardless of what Izuna said about how he was only neat when it came to his bedroom and nowhere else in the house.
His futon was made, the hand-carved furniture and one-of-a-kind paintings could rival the cost of a sizable dowry in price, and his gunbai hung in its place on the wall as well, ready for use anytime. Haruno stopped in front of a particular picture. The family portrait his parents commissioned years earlier, the only image he now had of when they were all together and whole.
Madara was taken off-guard by the appearance of a frown, the pinkette's eyes glittering remorsefully. "They were so young." He stood behind her, able to vividly remember that day and how impatient they had all been as the artist painted. Of course there were breaks, but all Madara had been thinking about was how long it was taking. He had complained to his brothers, who also lamented that none of them could go out exploring through the woods until it was over, because their mother had forbid it.
A smart move, in hindsight. Five young boys were hard enough to corral for a portrait, but five messy young boys with torn clothes and dirty faces who had romped through the forest and climbed trees would have made the process take even longer. If he had fully grasped how fleeting their time together as a band of brothers would be, the Uchiha was sure he would have found even the most mundane moments were special.
"They were." he said, joining Haruno in staring up at the young faces forever frozen in time. Madara wasn't sure why she had such interest or radiated deep sympathy, aside from the fact that she had a known soft spot for children.
"Izuna told me a little that day you both had the hunting competition."
Ah, yes. If Izuna would share about the loss that pained them both with anyone it would be Haruno. "And you want to...know more?"
She rubbed her arm. "I know there's no reason to tell me..."
"Sanna was the true middle child." Madara motioned to the round-eyed boy in the portrait. The only one of them with brown hair, which he kept in a small braid pulled to the side of his head. His younger self had arms wrapped around the shoulders of Izuna and Sanna. "From the start, the troubling times we lived in were unsettling to him. He often cried after battles; the bloodshed made him sick to his stomach. You could say that he was the gentlest of us all."
Sweet Sanna, who cried witnessing a snake kill and consume a frog. Sweet Sanna, who became dizzy whenever their father took them riding on Shinta's back and always had to hug someone. The mysterious circumstances of his death would forever haunt them. Clearly, he had met his end at the hands of an enemy, but one who felt enough responsibility to lay the body where it would be discovered. One skilled enough to sneak in and out of their territory, possibly even ambush his brother while he was alone?
Now Sanna, the twins and their mother rested side by side eternally.
"When Izuna and I agreed to put the bloodied history of the Senju and Uchiha to the side for the chance to help form this village, Sanna wasn't far from our minds. The twins were also part of that consideration, ultimately. Koya was opinionated and carefree. He had his own way of doing things. Not even being scolded as frequently as he was stopped him from finding mischief. Kamin was soft-spoken in comparison. Always at peace when he was with us, in nature."
"I'm...I'm sorry." Haruno offered, oozing sincerity. "None of them deserved that."
"This era has only ever offered one of two fates for its young: to fall from the nest and be dashed against the rocks below in a grisly end. Or a cursed fate that can feel worse than death...surviving to continue the cycle that destroys innocence and breaks spirits."
Haruno gulped so hard, the sound of it rang in his ears. There had always been something strange about the woman in a way he couldn't place. Eyes that held undoubted untold secrets, and the kind of grit that could only be forged from hardships, and still...The shadows of the death and destruction he had caused dogged his steps.
It was impossible to reach adulthood in a time such as theirs and not find oneself carrying that baggage sooner or later. Haruno's aura was the exception, in a way he couldn't place. Maybe it was another reason why he wanted to keep her close, inexplicably drawn in like a moth to a flame, all while trying to consume her for himself. "This isn't the time to speak of such things, evidently. You're beginning to quake."
Haruno looked down at her arm with a gasp. "No I'm not." she retorted. "Your eyes must be the ones that are unsteady."
Madara used his foot to slide a zabuton across the floor, watching it stop in front of her feet. "Let's put it to the test."
Haruno blinked down at the cushion, eyes slowly moving back to his face. "I still don't understand what you want to do or how you think you can fix...this." She held up a tangled piece of hair in dissatisfaction.
Kneeling near the zabuton, Madara set down the comb and two containers he had brought out. "Explaining would take time that could be spent fixing your problem."
The suspicious glint didn't leave her eyes as she slowly took a seat. "Fine," she huffed. "What now?" Madara wasted no time closing the space between them, spreading his legs on either side of her body, her back to his chest.
Predictably, Haruno reached around and whacked him. "This better not all be to do something weird! I'm only going to warn you once." Staring down at the top of her pink head, he snaked one hand into the strands, gathering it with a sharp tug. "Ouch!"
"Haruno, shut up and let me focus." He opened the first jar, which contained rice paste and mineral extracts. Slathering his hand in it liberally, he began smoothing it into her hair before she had time to voice another protest.
"T-That's cold..." she shivered, scooting away slightly. "But it smells...kind of nice."
Madara personally always thought it smelled like the strong tang of herbs. Though being a medic he supposed she would enjoy it. "This will help soften whatever you've managed to dip your head in."
"I didn't dip my head into anything, for your information."
"Really, Haruno. Own up to the mistake. Everyone's done unfortunate things for vanity." By this time, Madara had managed to lather her whole head in the paste from scalp to the very ends. She might not have noticed, but her shoulders weren't as bunched and twitchy.
"Are you stupid?" she snapped. "I said didn't do this to my own head! I...ran into someone at the market and I don't know what this is but—"
"Rushing?" he interrupted. "And why, pre tell? Because you thought you'd be meeting Izuna?"
Haruno brought both knees loosely to her chest, curling one arm out on top of them. "When you're meeting your friends don't you want to be on time?"
It really all just depended. Madara hated to feel stood up; anyone who had an audience with him should be flattered enough to present themselves on time. On the other hand, he had made Hashirama wait on more than one occasion for reasons that boiled down to 'just because'. The whining that proceeded his casual indifference to punctuality wasn't really worth it, though.
Haruno really was so devoted to his brother. They were friends, as she put it, but nonetheless they had a connection that only continued to grow. Something snaked its way through his chest, unfurling like a poisonous blossom that caused irritation to the touch. Jealousy was too simple an emotion to describe his feelings.
Contrary to the innately possessive nature of the Uchiha, he wasn't so concerned that Izuna occupied a place in her heart. Madara told himself long ago he occupied a comparable amount of space in her head. Someone sparing a thought, even if it was to curse your name, was a thought spared regardless.
And having her direct all her negative emotions at him was nearly euphoric in the beginning. Controlling someone's rage was just as powerful as controlling their affection. It had all been fine, before he lost his memories. Haruno stood by him then, no matter what reasons she gave for doing so or how much she dismissed any type of sentimentality being involved.
Being around Haruno stirred things he wasn't familiar with. Madara had never wanted more from anyone who shared his bed than the heat they could offer him in that moment. Hearts being involved was strictly prohibited. Some had claimed to have fallen for him, asked him for more, but them misconstruing the terms of the arrangement was never his concern.
To think his own emotions had become so foreign to him lately, he had actually gone to Naoko of all people...
"So..." Naoko rolled the apple around between her palms, the fruit heavy, ripe, and hypnotizingly red. "You can't have come just to hear about the mission."
Madara stopped inspecting her house plants and focused on the way the apple moved back and forth between her hands. "I'm offended. I can show an interest in the lives of others."
"Yes but," Naoko took a slow bite of the apple, the loud crunch making the room feel smaller. "How often do you?"
Madara laid his hands on the table, their faces level as Naoko kept at her nonchalant snacking. "The same question could be posed right back at you."
"I'm nothing if not invested in the lives of those around me," she grinned, cheeks bulging with chewed fruit. "It's why I make it a point to be so observant." Sucking off some juice that had gotten on her thumb, the kunoichi regarded him with a knowing tilt of the head. "Now, why don't you tell nee-chan why you really came?"
Madara crinkled his nose. He was starting to think Naoko was the wrong person to approach on the matter. Yes, observant though she may have been...she could never resist needling. But as far as female friends went, she was more or less the only true one he had. "Not to be cooed at and sat on your knee."
"I never offered my knee." Naoko stuck out her tongue, winking. "My ear is more appropriate to the situation."
"Hmph...then tell me, why would a straightforward woman dislike straightforward tactics?"
The woman polished off her apple, balancing the core on the tip of her finger. "Madara...you can't possibly be asking what I think you are?"
"I told you I didn't want you cooing at me."
"I never agreed to such a thing." Naoko gushed. "This is momentous. You, Madara Uchiha, are actually interested in a woman? Enough to come to me for advice?"
"Enough," he cut in warningly.
"I won't tease, but you have to understand that it's unexpected. Neither of us really ever seemed interested in relationships. But back then we had other things on our minds. I can't say for certain what's brought about the shift in you, but I would have to guess it's someone with pink hair and quite the fiery attitude."
"If you're aware I'm speaking about Haruno, then answer my question." he pressed, becoming impatient.
Naoko sat back, smirking in delight as she rubbed her chin. "Now, now...that attitude is exactly why you haven't gotten anywhere. 'Straightforward' you say? Let me guess—that includes frequent drop ins without actually admitting that you like being around her. Possibly including use of her things without permission because the only way you're sure will get her attention is by irritating her. Lastly, always finding some way to posture and mark your territory like a threatened tomcat. Am I warm?"
Madara hated Naoko sometimes. Truly. He could have never married her; she would have driven him to insanity with her uppity observations and their accuracy within the first week. "I do not posture."
"It sounds to me like you're not being very straightforward about anything." Naoko deduced. "Unsurprising, given it's you."
"Is there a point to all this other than amusing yourself at my expense?"
"Can't I be helpful, and bully you a little while?" she fluttered her lashes pathetically. At his deadpan face, she straightened. "I'm getting there..." Massaging her temple, her beautiful face grew thoughtful. "You know, passion doesn't solve everything. Especially as far as true, lasting relationships are concerned. In your case, actual courtship."
Madara huffed, "I never said my interest in Haruno extended that far."
"Oh? But then why else would you be here, speaking to me about it?" The triumphant light in her eyes shifted to something softer, gentle even. "You never wanted my opinions on how to keep any of the women you spent the night with. You're far from that with Sakura, and yet here we are. So isn't it about time you made up your mind to approach this earnestly? Embrace that you could be falling—"
"I need to better sort my feelings, in short." Madara summarized. Naoko's astute nature meant that occasionally what she said held grains of true wisdom, if one could endure all the awkwardness to glean it.
"Ah, there's hope for you yet." She tittered, back to her teasing. "In spite of all the might she displays, Sakura is also delicate in many ways I take it you never noticed. Probably because you were so focused on what you drew you in—her fire. Underneath that, though, is a very emotional girl guarding herself against what I can only guess is pain she's trying to keep in the past."
Madara may not have been as insightful on matters of the heart as Naoko apparently was, but he knew she could do more than 'guess'. She knew exactly what happened to Haruno.
Choosing not to address that for the time being, he cleared his throat. "If only you could use your intuition for good and not mischief all the time."
"I make no promises." Naoko replied. "I must say, if I didn't know any better I'd say it sounds like this little chat is something you plan to take to heart."
While his longtime friend had essentially stripped away every layer and mystery surrounding his emotions, the Uchiha head wanted to stubbornly hold tight to the illusion of not having them in the first place. "Don't get so cocky. Your own romantic future remains as tumultuous as mine."
"Yes..." she shrugged. "But you don't see me mourning the loss of someone I haven't even won over yet. That'll be the biggest challenge with Sakura—convincing her to accept this. The entertaining side of things will be if you can get out of your own way long enough to do it." Naoko allowed herself a full on snicker. "As I've said, you're you. You probably didn't make the prospect of being stuck with you sound appealing."
Having heard enough, Madara decided to dismiss himself, Naoko getting up to stretch. "Since I'm here...how was the mission?"
She grinned lazily, "Oh, you know. I may have had a hand in destabilizing a budding tyrannical regime."
Naoko's involvement in the overthrow of the daimyo aside, she wasn't completely wrong. Izuna had said much the same, warning him to be sure he knew what he wanted first before trying to convince Haruno.
Combing through the long tresses started to become more manageable, Madara following the teeth of the comb with his fingers to be sure he had thoroughly dislodged the smaller knots. Soon, Haruno's hair was taking on a healthy shine, and he hadn't even applied the second product. The Uchiha thought he heard a nearly silent sigh of contentment slip from her lips, but didn't comment.
"You actually seem like you know what you're doing." She half-turned, reaching up to finger a section of hair he had just groomed. "I can't remember the last time my hair looked and felt so glossy."
"Believe it or not, you aren't the only one who cares about being well-groomed. As much time as I spend in the woods, having a routine like this is essential." Madara paused to pour a carefully measured amount of oil into his palms, beginning to smooth it into her scalp.
Haruno made a noise she couldn't quite muffle in time, squirming against his chest. Madara couldn't resist, leaning into her ear, "Comfortable? There's no need to hold back on my account."
Deliberately scraping his nails against her scalp, he listened for the breathy sighs that came out under her breath. Madara knew with all the practice he had maintaining his own hair, his hands were deft. All the knots had been worked free, the gritty texture having given way to the silken feel of clean hair. Essentially, he was done. But, he couldn't help but take his time, seeing how Haruno responded to his ministrations.
She was putty, no longer paying attention to how she let her weight rest against his chest. "Alright, you should be finished now, right?"
Sharp girl. Pleased with his progress and not wanting to push it, Madara extricated himself from her back. "Eager to get some fresh air? You're looking a bit breathless, Haruno."
Clambering to her feet, the pinkette turned away, placing a hand to her warm face. "It's not like I ever know what to expect when it comes to you." she retorted. "Is this what you meant when you said you wanted to repay me?"
Something about her naïveté struck him with warmth, his lips curling coquettishly. Did she really have such low expectations of what manner of repayment he could come up with? Well, convincing her would just have to begin now. "Far from it."
While the somberness of winter suited him just fine, Tobirama had to admit that he was enjoying the early blossoming of spring. This year was unlike previous ones, where he had little time to spare for the changing seasons, far more concerned with what the enemies next move would be. There was a time when snowfall wasn't a beautiful frozen wonder from the sky, simply an element to be mindful of as they trekked about on a campaign.
Similarly, nature's awakening was an event to be privately considered from within his study. Tobirama liked the cherry blossoms, and that his koi were more active with the spring sunshine on their backs. But he could never stop and dwell for long, unlike Hashirama, who always watched the seasons come and go with vocal admiration.
Rustling from the foliage to his right proved his abilities to be as accurate as ever. A small body stumbled out, tripping with a squeak. Yes, yet another change from the previous year. He now had...a pupil of sorts.
"When I said the first lesson was punctuality, did you think I was just being witty?" he asked. Kikue Kaguya snapped her head up, tucking it down just as fast under the weight of his disapproving frown.
"I'm sorry! I got lost!" she panted, hands on her knees. At least part of why she had her head lowered appeared to have nothing to do with humility.
"We should also work on your stamina. This is a relatively short distance from the village." Tobirama noted, reaching into his pocket. "Never mind that for now. We'll begin immediately." Kikue came a little closer as he withdrew the main tool he would be using to train her for now: a length of red string. "What do you think I'll have you do with this?"
Her round face scrunched in consideration, the little girl even going as far as scratching her hair. "Um...will Kikue have to learn to tie knots?"
"That's at least partially the point." The Senju hooked the string around both his thumbs, carefully forming an intricate shape, gradually adding more of his digits to support it. "Do you remember what I told you to do before leaving on my mission?"
The little Kaguya nodded enthusiastically. "You said to visualize what Kikue's chakra does when it finds people on its own!"
At least the child had been paying attention. There was nothing worse than an inattentive student. Tobirama made a noise of acknowledgement. "Correct. And?"
A crease appeared in her brow. "Kikue tried, but..." she balled her hands into fists. "It was too hard! It was like this..." she waved her hand around, "Then like this..." she snaked the other arm through the air and wiggled her fingers.
"I suspected that would happen," Tobirama had come prepared, in fact. The concept of chakra itself was easy enough to teach. Just not asking a child to perfectly picture it moving outwards and bouncing back to send them an accurate picture of the terrain and expand their senses. "I thought using this concept would make it easiest for you to grasp." He showed her the string web he created. "This is a game called ayatori. Do you know the objective?"
Kikue's eyes grew rounder than he thought possible, her mouth falling open confidently. Tobirama waited until the pause stretched awkwardly into a pregnant silence. It was then he noticed the Kaguya becoming a little blue in the face. "Breathe!" he snapped.
She took a deep gulp of air. "Sorry!" she smiled. "Kikue got so distracted trying to remember, she forgot!" The tip of her tongue poked out sheepishly. "Anyway, I don't know that game after all."
It was just his luck, to get saddled with an airhead... "Right. Then focus. This is a visualization of your chakra, understand? Everyone's sensory abilities work in slightly different ways, but with the same root principle. Imagine this is yours. This pattern here."
Kikue peered down at his hands, which he held under her nose. Tentatively, she placed one finger in the center of his string, feeling how taut it was. "Spider's web?"
"It can be looked at that way if you'd like. A spider locates trapped prey from the vibrations as they land on its thread. You are the spider, attempting to locate anyone within range of your web."
"Ohh!" An excited gleam took over Kikue's face. "Kikue understands now!"
"Good. This formation is known as a cat's eye. You see, when played by oneself, this is a perfect task for someone learning to control their sensory skills. I'll transfer this to your hands now. Don't break the pattern."
Orbs bulging with focus, Kikue watched as Tobirama let his hands hover above hers, noticing the slight tremble as she concentrated. Smoothly placing her fingers in the string, he waited for her to try mimicking the position of his own. Her clumsy attempt only held for under a moment, and then the pattern was broken, the string a tangled mess. "Mm...I m-messed up..." Her lip began trembling, the shinobi taken aback to see tears beading in her milky orbs.
"It's nothing to shed tears over," he grumbled. "I didn't expect you to be successful on your first attempt."
"B-But...this is the part where..." she sniffled, wiping her nose on her arm, still holding the mess of string, "tou-san would punish me."
No stranger to all kinds of 'corrective punishment' in his youth, be it for falling short of his father's expectations or because something else had put him in a foul mood, Tobirama felt an instant connection involuntarily forming. "Punish...you?"
"Yes," her small voice cracked. "In the Black Cells."
The man stiffened, memory vivid on what their reconnaissance team had learned about the Kaguya some time ago. The Black Cells were an infamous method of torture for the clan. Deep underground, where no light could ever hope to reach, the clan stored prisoners in heavy chains. The rooms, if they could even be called that, weren't big enough to stand or turn. Hardly big enough to sit. Adults were broken simply from the lack of contact, left to rot without food, water or sunlight until the Kaguya saw fit to remove them, often half-crazy by then. To place a child in those conditions...his own daughter. Yoshiro Kaguya was truly a sad, moraless excuse of a man without reproach.
"Did that happen often?"
Unable to look him in the eyes, Kikue shrugged noncommittally. "Whenever Kikue...messed up or couldn't win a spar. B-But only ever for a day at a time!"
"There's no point in trying to soften that experience." A harsh sigh whistled from between his clenched teeth. How could he ever have thought that she wasn't as traumatized by her upbringing as any other child of the era, Kaguya or not? "Failure is never going to result in any such punishment. The point of all this is to give you a better grasp of your abilities. Nothing more."
"Really? So I can try again?"
"You won't progress at all if you don't." Tobirama reasoned, his tone measured and calm. Inside, he was already making notes of how he would work with her in the future, mindful of what might cause her to wilt and what might bring up her motivation. Patience was also going to be crucial.
"Ok, Kikue's ready now!" She held up her hands to him, and he slipped his fingers in the places where the string had become tangled.
"We'll try this again. Together." Tobirama again explained what he had done, adding that when two people played ayatori, the objective was to keep making new formations without a mistake or running into a 'dead-end', at which point the game would be over. They went over cat's eye, again and again, until she was relatively okay at it. There were still hitches, mistakes that were easy to exploit. But Kikue took to it well, overall.
After an hour, Tobirama was able to sit back and watch her try 'cat's eye' on her own. Once he was sure she had the hang of it, they could move onto the next phase. Pushing chakra into the string and watching how it dispersed.
Until then he—
He and Kikue both let their attention turn to the spot where a cloud of smoke had gone up. The furry little creature staring around in a daze was very familiar. Too familiar.
"Papa?" Tobirama flinched. He had brought Kikue to train in the woods to limit distractions. How had Arisu managed to reverse summon herself abruptly?
The child gasped, predictably enthused by the arrival of the otter pup. Hands still trapped by the string, she rushed over, vibrating. "A talking puppy!"
Realizing she was being addressed, Arisu met the little girl's eyes, unimpressed with the mistake. "Not a puppy!"
"She's not a puppy."
All it took was hearing his voice and the red-furred pup spun around, now looking as excited as her human child counterpart. "Papa!"
Just as she had all the other times they met, Arisu ran right up to him, hopping onto one of his legs and holding tight. "I missed you." Tobirama let her rub her furry cheek against his pants. "Is this...where you live?"
Either young summons developed much faster than humans, or his tiny admirer was advanced. She had picked up human speech very quickly considering the short amount of time that had passed. Forgoing that for the moment, Tobirama focused on the issue at hand. "Arisu. What are you doing here? How did you get here? You should be back at The Couch."
Her ears turned down, nose quivering endearingly. "But...I wanted to see you. The big otters tol' me to wait my turn. But..."
The Senju carefully dislodged the baby otter from his leg with a single shake. She tumbled to the grass unharmed. "They were right. You're too young to be out on your own. If you'd overshot your mark, you might have wound up somewhere else entirely and been stranded."
Curling in on herself, Arisu wrung her little paws together, curling her tail around her webbed feet. "Sorry..."
From the corner of his eyes, Tobirama noticed Kikue down on all fours and crawling closer for a better look. She reached out a hand as if to touch the cub, but Arisu whirled around, nipping at the small hand.
Kikue wailed dramatically, cradling the hand to her chest.
This was...not what he was expecting. Tobirama smacked himself in the forehead as his new student rolled in the grass groaning. "Stop that and hold out your hand."
Proving as obedient as she had previously been, Kikue paused her theatrics long enough to show him her finger. It was luckily no more than a pinch, the tip a bit red but the skin unbroken. "It'll be fine. Stick it in the stream."
As she ran off, Tobirama tried to think of a good way to explain to Arisu why she couldn't be there just now. Sugar-coating had never been his strong suit though, so he opted for bluntness. "Go home, Arisu. I'm busy."
"Papa, I'm sorry!" she pleaded, tail swishing anxiously. "I just wanted to play. Look what I learned." Stepping back, the otter pup tilted her head back and shot out a very weak squirt of water. Her attempt at a suiton technique.
"I'm not playing. That girl, Kikue is...someone I'm training."
"Yeah!" Apparently having recovered from her near-fatal injury, Kikue came literally bouncing right back over. "Sensei's teaching her all about being a sensor-type!"
"Sensor...type?" The otter repeated unsurely.
"Yes. It's the ability to feel out others from long or short distances. A vital skill for those like us." Tobirama explained, trying to be patient. She was just as much a naïve child as Kikue. Quite clever too, given that she had managed to sneak away presumably unnoticed and pop up just where she wanted to be without being summoned.
"Can I...do it too?" Arisu asked, eyes full of wonder. Some animals were sensor-types, but Tobirama had no idea if it would ever manifest itself in her. In people at least, the predictability was at times tough to nail.
"That's not something I'm capable of knowing. It's innate."
Both Kikue and Arisu stared up at him with big, lost eyes.
"Meaning...it comes naturally over time with some training."
Disappointed, Arisu lowered her head. "Oh..."
"Don't feel bad!" Despite having been nipped once, Kikue took the time to crouch and cautiously pat the otter's head. "You can do something Kikue can't." Puffing out her cheeks, she raised her hands to either side of her face and wiggled her fingers around in what Tobirama supposed was an imitation of suiton in action. Except...he did not look like a blowfish when he performed it.
"Eh?" Arisu was again confused.
"She means you're learning Suiton, which she's unable to do."
"I don't mind if Arisu-chan stays and watches, sensei!" Kikue proudly raised her arm like she was in class.
"You're getting ahead of yourself. I have the final say here." Tobirama scolded. "I don't want you distracted."
"Please?"
All tension between the girls seemed forgotten, both of them begging in unison with the most pitiful pair of eyes.
Tobirama really did not like where this was going.
"Arisu. You're to remain silent during this lesson. Kikue. You're to focus only on my instructions. If either of you fails to listen, this ends."
They cheered, the Kaguya pumping her fist while the otter yipped, tail wagging.
When...had he become so soft?
Sakura just didn't know where her head was at. The whole week she felt off her game, stumbling through one day to the next, trying to squeeze in as much as possible. There was teaching at the academy, helping to organize a double surprise party she was almost positive would end horribly, continuing to study the plant matter from the under with Tobirama, and replaying every recent interaction with Madara to figure out just what the hell was going on in his head, to name a few items on her schedule.
None of those things even began to cover duties related to being a godslayer. It was nerve-wrecking to wait for Mizuchi to pop up with yet another perilous plan to stop the Heavens' advancement toward what felt like an inevitable confrontation. Sakura was keen on training, with or without her wayard goddess mentor.
The more she did, the better chances she and everyone she cared about would survive the fallout of a cosmic clash. The problem was...where she could unleash her power and not worry about endangering lives or leveling mountains? Suitable opponents were also slim to none.
Mizuchi wasn't around, didn't seem inclined to come back around until she was ready. So instead of driving herself up a wall, Sakura chose what made the most sense to her: throwing herself headlong into studying. She and Tobirama were arranged to meet and go over some theories that afternoon. He had experienced her last big showdown and even fought alongside her.
If anyone currently in the village was going to be able to help her strategize, it had to be him. Not that she didn't also trust Izuna, who had contact with a supernatural being for a much shorter length of time. But, he hadn't quite returned from Sora-ku. Naoko told her that he would more than likely be in the village before nightfall, though.
As much as she wanted to talk to him, reveal as much as she was able, it was probably just as well. Sakura hadn't been overly decisive as of late and it was better not to have to choose between who to go to between Izuna, who felt like a friend she could trust with anything, and Tobirama, who always seemed on the same intellectual wavelength.
She also wasn't so sure how receptive the two would be to trying to get to the bottom of things together. Even with her in the middle as a mediator.
Sakura wondered if some of the Senju weren't going to get the wrong idea with how often she kept turning up in their compound. No one seemed to mind right now. If she was lucky they assumed she was a close friend and guest of someone who lived there. The pinkette didn't want to start mulling over what they would assume if she wasn't so lucky.
This time, the young woman found herself knocking on the front door only to be greeted by Mei-san. The aloof older woman spared her a polite nod. "Sakura-san, it's been a while."
"Hello Mei-san," Sakura bowed in respect for her elder. "I have to say I'm a little surprised you remember me."
"Age doesn't necessarily dull the mind if one takes the right precautions." she smirked a little.
"You're right, I'm sorry. I..."
"No need for any of that. Come in."
Sakura mumbled a thank you, taking off her shoes as she entered the spacious main hall. The woman stepped out onto the engawa, drawing the pinkette's attention to the broom in her hand as she began sweeping. "I'll just go meet Tobirama, if that's alright."
"I have no business telling you not to," Mei-san started, "but the boy's not here now. Went off over an hour ago."
"H-He's not?" It was so unlike Tobirama to tell her to come by and then not be around. Did he forget? That was possible, but it just seemed so unlikely.
"Feel free to wait for him in the meditation room. I'm sure he'll be back before too long if he planned on meeting you."
"Me-meditation room," Sakura nodded, not wanting to make trouble by sulking about it. She was already here now anyway.
"Not that way. The other direction, down the hall and just past the inner courtyard and gardens."
Diligently bobbing her head, Sakura pasted on another deferential little smile. "Sorry. I'll be going then."
Tiptoeing down the hall and following Mei-san's directions led exactly where she was told it would. Sakura had never explored this side of the building, always going directly to meet Tobirama. She slid the rice paper door open, but stopped short (something she couldn't help but do often lately), finding the room already occupied.
By the Hokage, of all people.
There among the indoor plants and a peacefully trickling bamboo fountain, Hashirama pressed himself to the floor before lifting up again. His body was straight as a plank, long hair curtaining his face as he did push-ups. Sakura stood dumbly and watched. There was the lightest sheen of sweat visible on his forehead and neck whenever his hair moved long enough for her to see it. And, due to his shirt being sleeveless, every motion of his arms brought attention to his solid biceps. "A-Ah..."
The reason the pinkette was tongue-tied alluded her. 'This is the Senju compound. He has as much right to be here as any other member.'
"Hm?" Likely feeling her stare, Hashirama looked up, but didn't pause his exercising. "Sakura-san? When did you get there?"
Sakura fidgeted, waving shyly. "Not long ago. I just...thought I'd come by to see Tobirama, and Mei-san said I could wait here."
"What a coincidence that we're both here for the same reason." Sakura watched his body move up and down, wondering how long he'd been at it. "Tobirama's off training his new student, so I thought I'd take advantage of what a nice day it is to fit in a little light activity. I don't get many opportunities to stretch cooped up in my office most of the day."
It brought to mind how often Tsunade would complain about being stuck indoors on nice spring days. Sometimes her mentor would bargain with the pinkette, asking her for a spar with the excuse of making sure they both stayed in pique condition. After they had worked up a sweat, the Godaime would return to her office and complete her tasks.
Knowing the amount of pressure the position put her shishou under, Sakura couldn't blame her for wanting to cut loose sometimes. The Shodai seemed much the same, if not worse. He was far more of a social butterfly than his granddaughter, and overflowing with energy.
"Well, a break every now and then is good for everyone, but I'm sorry...did you say student?" When had that happened? Tobirama didn't mention anything to her. Which wasn't to say he was obligated to tell her every detail about his life just because they were on better terms, but if he already had plans for the afternoon Sakura wouldn't have minded.
"That's right. I was pretty surprised myself, especially because of the clan." Hashirama laughed brightly. "Little Kikue Kaguya is a sensor-type, and Tobi's decided to help her hone her abilities."
"Oh, that's right! We discovered that when we infiltrated the Kaguya last year. Even Toka was impressed." To think she had been in the past long enough to refer to some events as "last year".
"Whatever Tobirama's picked up on has his interest." Hashirama nodded. "I'm glad to see him making the effort to interact more with the villagers. Taking a child from another clan under his wing, a Kaguya, makes me think he's changed a lot recently."
Sakura thought it was also possible he was just being more open, more willing to show his true feelings. If their time together had taught her anything, it was that Tobirama cared. His experiences made him think that expressing that was a 'burden', but he was learning not everything could be compartmentalized out of existence. A full range of emotions was healthy, and most importantly human.
"I think so too," she couldn't help but smile gently, happy for him.
"You're a good influence on him, Sakura-san. Your firm reproach and gentle touch method is just what he needs sometimes."
"No, no," Sakura tried to dismiss the claim, her face heating. The Hokage really did think too highly of her, give her far too much credit. She didn't know how to handle it. "I've said it before, but singing my praises is unnecessary. I haven't done very much at all."
Hashirama stopped his push ups at last. "Sakura-san," he said, reproachfully. "This again?"
"Well, it's true..." she stated, maybe a little stubbornly.
Hashirama looked ready to debate her on it, but instead grinned. "You know, you don't have to stand there. Plenty of room here for the both of us."
Sakura realized she was still peeking around the door, slowly letting it out of her grasp and walking lightly into the meditation room. "I wouldn't want to be in the way."
"I've been exercising by myself all this time, sprinting, lifting, and stretching. You're not in the way. I could use some help spotting, if you don't mind. It's so pretty out I keep getting distracted."
Indeed, when she paused to listen, Sakura could hear the birdsong through the half-open door on the other side of the room, leading to a back porch. It only served to enhance the atmosphere of relaxation already in the room.
"Spotting, I could help with that." She shifted closer, Hashirama positively radiating excitement as she stopped a foot short of his prostrate body.
"Where did you stop counting?" she asked, kneeling next to him. "I'll pick up from there."
"Five-hundred," The Hokage paused. "Actually, five-hundred and eleven."
The kunoichi barely managed to keep her features schooled, although inside she was gaping. Five-hundred and eleven push-ups? After sprinting, stretching and lifting? Sure, she guessed she could do that too, but she'd be tired. Lee and Guy would be so enthused to have him join one of their insane bouts of training. 'His chakra reserves are enormous,' she reminded herself. 'It's no wonder that kind of activity only makes him break a light sweat. His stamina is unreal.'
"I'm ready whenever you are." Sakura told him.
Hashirama didn't resume his push-ups, though. His eyes flickered to her before he turned his head away, appearing bashful.
"Hokage-sama, is something wrong?"
"Sakura-san, would it be too much if I wanted you to...sit on me?"
"What?!" Sakura fell unceremoniously onto her back. There was no way she had heard correctly! Just no—
"S-Sit on my back, actually!" Hashirama rushed to clarify. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he continued. "What I mean is that I usually have someone spot me that way, and I think it's helpful. I understand how that might have come across...a little too suddenly. I'm sorry."
Placing a hand to her rapidly thumping chest, Sakura let the words soak in. "To...spot you." That really wasn't such a strange concept. She had done it for Kakashi several times when she was a genin, even on occasion after she had trained under Tsunade.
Whenever he was feeling weakened after a long recovery, Team 7's sensei would do push-ups that way to build his strength up. She, Naruto and Sasuke had all done it together once, the blonde fussing at Sasuke and throwing elbows, yelling about how he was "hogging all the sensei space".
It was always an innocent thing, never anything major. In fact Sakura would normally be daydreaming about if Sasuke would one day train with her on his back when they grew up.
Older and faced with the prospect of sitting atop the Hokage, she was more reserved on the idea. What if she was heavy? She had been eating a lot of sweets as of late. All the fighting had to burn through a lot of those calories, but she would still be mortified if he found her hard to lift.
"Sakura-san, that's not possible. I'm confident I could still move fine even holding ten of you."
Sakura clammed up, hand flying to her mouth. "H-How did you know what I was thinking just now?"
"You spoke out loud." he explained.
Stupid! If it wouldn't make her look crazy, Sakura would have slapped herself in the forehead. "Well...if you're sure it's not a problem then I don't mind helping you."
Hashirama lowered himself flat to the floor. Sakura decided to just climb on the way she would with Kakashi-sensei before she could make herself flustered thinking too hard. As he raised his body up, the pinkette noted just how broad his back was, roomy enough for her to draw up her legs and cross them. She gripped her ankles as he went back to his push-ups. The whole time, as she counted in her head, Sakura was also hyper-aware of everything.
The Shodai was as fit as one would expect a ninja of his caliber to be, the power easy to feel from her position dead in the center of his muscled back. The thin black top that clung to his torso had gone nearly sheer with his light perspiration. Earlier she had noticed that the definition of his pecs and even the indentation of his navel was visible from the front. The natural flex of his muscles caused a twinge low in her stomach that licked under her skin like a flame. Until then she hadn't been feeling warm at all. It was such a nice day out, why would she?
Ironically here in the temperature controlled room was where Sakura was starting to get a little flush around her neck. Because the weather was so agreeable, she wore fewer layers. There was no point in the long slip under her yukata when something shorter would do just fine. The issue there was that now her bare thighs were pretty much in direct contact with Hashirama's back. With less fabric between them his body heat was prominent in every place they touched.
"I really appreciate you doing this for me, Sakura-san." he threw out innocently. "Having you keep count makes it much easier to enjoy your company."
"It's not a problem." He didn't need to know his spotter was distracted, and that had it not been for her multitasking abilities—even when in a daze— she would have been completely lost. "I like staring at your back."
"I...don't think I caught that."
Sakura smacked her hands to her cheeks, horrified. Was it true? Yes. Did he need to be privy to that information? No! "I said I like staring out at the back...porch. It's such a peaceful day, I don't mind waiting and talking like this."
"I agree." Hashirama chirped, unaware of how badly Sakura wanted to vanish on the spot. "Tobirama rarely overextends himself. He's very on top of his schedule. But it looks like this time it led to my good fortune."
Conversely, the pinkette was positive the gods she and Mizuchi had angered were cursing her. Drowning her in misfortune.
On that clear, beautiful and perfect day, Sakura got quite the shock, awareness nearly startling her to tumble right off the Shodai.
All the snacks she could fit on the table were arranged just so. Usamaro eyed everything intently, Sakura shooting him a stern expression until he stopped trying to put his paw near the food. No sooner had she finished than someone knocked on the door. She sprinted over, opening it for the first guests without hesitation.
"Sakura!" Yurine flung herself into the pinkette's arms. "We came just as soon as we got your message." Gently patting her friend's back, Sakura broke the embrace.
"Thanks, I know it's short notice but I'm glad you could make it."
"Anything for food—" Yurine glared over at Shikamarin. "For a friend." the Nara amended.
Both of them entered her home, taking off their shoes and the bags slung across their backs. Shikamarin's attention immediately fell to the food, but she at least was polite enough to look to her host for permission. Sakura gestured to the setup. "I put out a few things, in case anyone's hungry."
"If it's not too soon to start helping ourselves, then...those have my name all over them."
"Unbelievable." Yurine whispered, shaking her head. "I thought she'd gotten better but she's still too motivated by food."
"It's fine," Sakura grinned, "There's more where that came from. Help yourself if you want any."
Another knock. This time Sakura moved more calmly as her friends snacked in the kitchen, approached by a hopeful cat.
Susumu offered a timid smile, bowing. "Good evening. Thank you for inviting me over."
"You don't have to bow," Sakura stepped aside, "But come in."
"Um..." Susumu pulled something out of the satchel hanging from her shoulders, offering it to the kunoichi humbly. "I wasn't completely sure what the correct etiquette was for something like this. I brought anpan. I hope that's alri—eek!"
An arm materialized from behind Sakura's shoulder, blindly groping for the pan, which Susumu had moved away. "I'll be glad to take those off your hands."
Sakura glanced to the side, Shikamarin standing there with crumbs all around her mouth and a blissed out glaze to her eyes. She held a sesame bun in one hand, already bitten.
"Not so fast," Sakura steered her back to the snacks in the kitchen by her shoulders. "Give Susumu a little space to at least set them down. And don't think you won't have to share."
Yurine tried to act as Susumu's bodyguard while she went to find a spot for the treats. Sakura went to shut the door, noticing it was still ajar, but a manicured hand beat her to it, forcing it open wider. "You weren't going to leave us out in the cold, were you?"
"Naoko," Sakura smiled. "Toka." She noticed the quiet Senju woman over her shoulder. "I didn't expect you to arrive together,"
"It wasn't intentional." Toka mumbled. She shot Naoko a look, as if daring her to say something cheeky. Before the Uchiha could call her bluff, Sakura took matters into her own hands.
"Everyone else is already here," she told them. "Come in and get comfortable."
"Thank you," Like Susumu, Toka bowed, while Naoko took a much less formal approach and ruffled Sakura's hair before joining the others.
Sakura shut her door, sighing in relief. She hadn't really explained in depth why she wanted all of them to come, inviting them as soon as she got home from the Senju compound and asking them to be prepared to spend the night.
They could have easily ignored her request or said no. So it warmed her heart that none of them had given it a second thought.
"It's good to see everyone together like this," Susumu mentioned. Blushing, she bowed to Naoko. "My apologies, I'm not sure we've ever been acquainted."
"Oh," Everyone could see the way Naoko's eyes lit up. "So polite, so cute." It was the kind of expression everyone but poor Susumu knew to be wary of. The crafty woman was on the prowl for someone new to tease.
"Naoko, no!" Yurine and Toka must have sensed the same thing, and some of the intensity melted from the Uchiha's eyes as she laughed.
"It's a pleasure to meet you..." She extended a hand, waiting expectantly.
"S-Susumu," Sakura watched the mousiest of her friends place her hand lightly on Naoko's palm.
"Susumu." Naoko repeated, leaning in close to her face. "Your eyelashes are to be envied."
"Oh!" she smiled, "Thank you. No one's ever told me that before."
Naoko gave the rest of them a pointed look, silently saying 'see? I can play nice.'
"Glad as I am we're all getting along," Toka cleared her throat, "Sakura, would you mind telling us what's going on? I was a little concerned by the urgency in your message."
Yurine giggled, Naoko smirking.
"Is something funny about showing concern?" Toka asked, tone defensive.
"Such a proven leader but still so inexperienced in other areas." Naoko remarked.
"I..." Susumu raised her hand. "don't think I'm sure what's going on either, actually."
Before Sakura could explain and ease any tensions, Yurine took it upon herself with a large smile. "It's obvious, right? Sakura wanted to have a girl's night!"
"A...girl's night?" Toka appeared so lost Sakura felt bad.
"Hmm..." Shikamarin hummed, content to sit at the table and listen. "So that's what this is about."
"Y-You know about it too, Shikamarin?" Susumu peeked over at her, blinking. "You have something on your face."
Shrugging, the lazy girl licked at her fingers.
"It's a night for us girls, like the name suggests." Yurine explained. "We'll eat and chat to catch up. Almost like a lunch date with friends, but at night and we sleep here."
Sakura nodded along, "What she said."
"I see," Toka's brow furrowed as she gave it some serious thought. "I've never done this before. There were very few opportunities to be so carefree in my childhood. And I didn't have many female friends, although I had many comrades who—"
"So you're telling us you're interested, to speed up this process." Naoko slung an arm around the Senju's shoulders.
Twisting away, Toka nodded stiffly. "Yes."
"Then," Sakura was beginning to get excited, hoping they could have as much fun as they had in the hot springs...before things went south. "Let's kick this off!"
"And then he said, we only didn't think you'd be interested because women hardly ever are!" Yurine complained. "What does being a woman have to do with it?!"
Sakura should have known something like this could happen. Everything had been going smoothly. Just like Yurine explained, they ate and they chatted, Usamaro happy to have so many hands to pet him and so many laps to sprawl on. The night was young and full of laughter as they shared funny stories and enjoyed each other's company.
Then, Naoko had revealed a bottle of sake she brought along, insisting everyone should have some. Some turned into more, and well...almost all of them were approaching tipsy now. Sakura had been using her chakra control to flush it out of her system, only allowing herself to feel a hint of a buzz. She wanted to stay lucid for a while longer.
But Yurine wore a prominent flush, and was leaning into Shikamarin's side, recounting how she had been excluded from a sensei's outing by some of her male colleagues from the academy.
"Men can be so...difficult at the best of times." Toka sipped from her cup much more slowly, her cheeks rosy but her controlled mannerisms still in place. Sakura wondered if, like her, she had only been allowing herself to feel just enough of the alcohol's effects to get that pleasant warmth in her system.
"That's why this is just about us tonight." Shikamarin, surprisingly, was a full participant in the conversation. Unlike before, where she slept through most of the commotion at the onsen. Alcohol seemed to do the job of waking her up just as well as food.
"Men have their uses from time to time." Naoko admitted, her long legs crossed gracefully as she leaned on one palm, knocking the sake back smoothly. Sakura envied how if anything, the sake settled under her skin and gave her a glow. Not a drunken flush, but a healthy shine to her pale skin. "Though some days I think those uses are very limited." she finished.
"That's what I'm saying!" Yurine screeched, likely forgetting they were all more than close enough to hear her. "The other day, I was in the market with Kureno, and I asked him to get the fruits while I bought everything else. I thought it was simple enough. But you know what happened?"
They all shook their heads.
"In under ten minutes he came back with vegetables he thought were fruits. He wasn't paying attention at all! So I had to take everything back, you know, buy the right ones." Yurine curled hair around her pointer finger. "But when I went to do that, I ran into Goemon Hatake." She paused to let out a loud groan, pressing both hands to her face.
Sakura perked up. Sure, the name had been brought up when her friends told her about their mission in the capitol. It stunned her to know that her former sensei's lineage didn't start in the Fire Country at all, but with a man who had migrated all the way from Lightning Country. She wondered if even Kakashi knew the circumstances of how the Hatake had come to be Leaf shinobi.
And she wondered even more what kind of resemblance this Goemon, the self-proclaimed legendary gentleman thief, could bear to the Hatake she knew well.
"I thought you said you asked him to come to Konoha and make a case to the Hokage." Sakura pointed out.
"I did, but only because I felt so sorry for his siblings. They've lost a lot and they have a really rare, powerful kekkei genkai. I didn't think it was good for them to live life going from city to city while he stole from his marks. What if one day people found out the connection they have to him and tried to exploit it. Did you know the punishment for being caught stealing in the capitol is still considered a high crime? If the daimyo wants to, he can have whoever he likes publicly boiled alive."
Yurine's face grew more sober with every word. Sakura knew the blonde liked helping children as much as she did. And, having lost her own family to the Kaguya, she probably felt a special connection to two young siblings who were the last of their people.
"Plus...I didn't realize how annoying he would be," Yurine grumbled, taking another gulp of sake. "It's like he's trying to charm me. I didn't ask to be charmed. I may have decided to trust him, but it was only to save everyone. It's not like we're friends. He better not assume we are!"
Sakura, Naoko, Toka and Shikamarin all traded looks as the girl cluelessly continued to rant and drink. Yurine Yuhi, hopeless romantic extraordinaire, couldn't care less about a man who was clearly interested. It wasn't the twist any of them saw coming, but it was pretty evident Goemon was under her skin. For better or worse.
Sakura was beginning to get an indication of what she might sound like when she complained about all the ways Madara pissed her off while continuing to entertain his presence.
"And you, Sakura?"
The pinkette looked up from her half-empty cup at Toka's question.
"Me? What about me?"
"You've been unusually quiet on the topic." Shikamarin added. "I...vaguely remember a conversation like this at the hot springs, but not the details."
"Because you fell asleep!" Sakura reminded her. "Since I got put on the spot before, there's no need for a repeat!" She waved her hand wildly. "There's nothing new to tell anyway."
"Is that so?" Naoko squinted through one eye. "I have a very keen ability to discern the truth. And I sense something being kept from us. Besides, there's no harm in recounting the tale for those of us who weren't there," She pulled Susumu into her side. "Or conscious," Her other arm found Shikamarin's shoulders. "the last time."
'Damn it,' Sakura chewed at her lip. 'What do I say now?' Naoko had to be wrong at some point, right? The whole reason she had summoned them all together was because she left the compound in crisis mode. That might have been dramatic, but it felt like a crisis. A personal one. One thing about her time in the past hadn't changed, and that was her determination not to become attached to anyone beyond friendship.
That alone was hard enough, knowing one day she would never see them again. History wouldn't even make mention of most of the friends she'd made. All that would keep them alive were her memories of times just like this one. It was a cruel truth Sakura had been trying not to think too much on, hoping to spare herself.
Taking a deep breath to prepare herself, she met everyone's expectant gazes and drank down the rest of her sake. Without a word, Naoko reached to refill her cup.
"The last time, they," she motioned more at Yurine and Naoko, "Got this idea that I could be hiding feelings for someone."
"We even narrowed it down to someone who's either an Uchiha or a Senju." Yurine squawked proudly.
"Indeed," Toka agreed.
"Is that it?" Shikamarin was munching away at some snack she had pulled from nowhere. "You all cornered her into a coerced confession we can't even confirm?"
"Not at all," Naoko slapped her hands down on her thighs, "Sakura, it's come to my attention that you've spent a great deal of time at the Senju compound and Uchiha compound as of late."
Sakura sputtered on her drink, some leaking from her lips. "Who told you that?"
"Sources aren't important," Toka dismissed, "Is it true?"
"You too, Toka?" Sakura glared, figuring if she had even one ally in all this it would be the constant voice of reason in the group.
"I...can't deny I have a tad more curiosity about it all than I did the last time." The brown-haired woman explained.
"It's not like I'm sneaking in and out through windows or anything else weird," Sakura huffed. "I go to the Senju compound to see Tobirama, and we talk about science, something we have a common interest in. Sometimes if Hokage-sama is around, I'll greet him. That's not unusual at all. Izuna and I have been friends for months. Friends meet and talk. It's not my fault Madara happens to live there too."
"Noted," Shikamarin murmured, stretching and patting at her belly. "She does make a solid case for why this is all circumstance."
"Not so fast!" Yurine threw up a finger. "There's...there's got to be something we're missing!" she whined.
"It's perhaps just a little off topic, but I couldn't help but notice when we arrived that your home is very beautifully furnished." Susumu fidgeted. "And I just...wondered how you made your selections?"
"I can't take much credit for that," Sakura bit into a custard filled anpan, "Hokage-sama picked it o—"
She knew her mistake before she had even finished her sentence. Susumu was so meek, it was so much easier to let her guard down when a question came from her. The others seized onto the information like a feral pack of dogs with a fresh kill.
"The Hokage gifted you all of that?" Naoko sounded genuinely surprised. "How generous."
"And romantic!" Yurine butt in.
"And expensive." Shikamarin had already sprawled out on the futon they set up near Sakura's bed, her eyes closed.
"Good job, Susumu," Naoko beamed. "I knew we would get along well."
"Susumu..." Sakura couldn't believe it. "Did you...set me up?"
"I'm s-sorry!" The herbalist bowed her purple head in shame. "Naoko-san whispered that it would be a good shift in conversation, to loosen things up. I thought I was helping you."
"Your devilry knows no limits." Toka commented, though whereas she would usually sound scornful, Sakura noted that the Senju sounded more impressed than anything.
"So, The Hokage is a generous man in regard to our cherry blossom." Naoko said, without a trace of remorse. "Does that sound circumstantial, Shikamarin?"
"Yes!" Sakura interjected, "He's generous to everyone!"
"That kind of generosity seems a bit more...individually focused." Yurine yawned. The alcohol was catching up with her, her crimson eyes becoming droopy.
"Yurine is correct. I have known him for years." Toka joined. "Not only him, but Tobirama. He's protective of his private space. Hardly anyone is invited into his study, yet you visit it frequently."
"I admit things...shifted since the mission. Being thrust into a number of life or death situations with a person tends to change your views of each other." Sakura said. Usamaro, sleepy and clingy, flopped into her lap, head resting on her arm.
"That's a fair enough point." Toka watched Yurine crawl to join Shikamarin on the futon. "But, be truthful Sakura, have things not being in the process of shifting with...all of them?"
"I don't know what you mean," the pinkette remained stubborn in her denial.
"The Hokage, Izuna, Madara, Tobirama...they're all nice catches." Naoko mused. "How they're all still unattached is a mystery." Her dark, alluring eyes shifted unfairly to the green eyes of the evasive girl.
"Aren't we also all still unattached," Sakura focused on giving her tired cat gentle pets.
"You know, there's nothing particularly wrong with finding four people attractive." the Uchiha blurted out. "Even if it's at once."
"Some people wouldn't agree," Toka hummed, eyes thoughtful on the bottom of her glass. "Although, Naoko wouldn't be wrong to say it isn't unheard of. Attraction is found in various ways all throughout nature."
"Why tell me this?" Sakura rubbed at her eyes. "I never," she stopped to suppress a yawn of her own. "Mentioned I was attracted to anyone. In fact I said the opposite."
"Why else would you call us here, all worked up?" Shikamarin called from the futon.
"The one time you don't drop off to sleep?" Sakura clicked her teeth. "So you all think you can see right through me?"
"You make it easy." Naoko scoffed. Even Susumu nodded. "I've said it before, Sakura, but at some point, there comes a time when you have to prioritize yourself, stop fearing what everyone else's expectations are or how you might not be able to live up to them."
The conversation petered out after that, everyone dropping off to sleep one by one until only Sakura remained awake, curled up on her bed. She called them together because she wanted advice and...she got it. Along with a healthy dose of teasing. After her encounter with the Hokage the day before, she had come to the abrupt understanding that she did think he was attractive.
As was Madara's swagger and his occasional, awkward moments of consideration. She admired Tobirama's knowledge and his conviction, right or wrong. It also didn't hurt that he had nice arms she peeked at frequently when they were trapped in the valley together, and manly thighs she noticed in The Under. Izuna was...everything she had always hoped a boy would be to her one day, sweet and attentive.
Sakura was scared. This...what she was feeling was enough to throw her all off kilter. She couldn't afford to let anything progress on her end. Finding them handsome was one thing, but if it grew to infatuation...if she let herself be that vulnerable and giving with her heart again, anything could happen to it.
Eyes squeezing shut, Usamaro's purrs thrummed in her ears. The hollow sound of her heartbeat in her throat leveled out, but the nightmarish scene playing out in her mind was far from calming. Sasuke's genjutsu. His Chidori ripping right through her chest, faster than her Byakugou could heal her.
Her watery eyes searched his face for any sign of sorrow, wanting to believe that he had done it because he had no other choice. Not even a tick of his jaw, or a surfacing of the slightest nostalgia chipped away at his aloof mask as she fell, deeper down than anyone could reach.
That sensation, that sureness that she would die, staring into the face of someone she once would have done anything for...that would be the consequence of slipping up now. Worse actually. She would be trying to cut her heart into four equal pieces and divide it up to be ruined beyond repair.
A person could not survive four heartbreaks at once, and she would never have to, because Sakura refused to ever let things get that far. Her friends meant well, but they didn't understand what was at stake.
I continue to be grateful I am now able to write scenes like the ones in this chapter, as well as the ones to come. Everyone is coming to grips with their feelings in their own time and in their own ways. Sakura's reckoning upon realizing how serious her love interests are is something I look forward to writing. She's not suddenly in love with any of them, to be clear. She doesn't even see what she feels as crushes. She is basically aware that she finds four men hot at the same time. And we may not see that as a big deal, because honestly it isn't, but Sakura is wrestling with a lot of what if's and what can't be's she's given herself. Cue the angst clouds rolling in.
I felt MadaSaku was overdue for some fluff and slight awkwardness with neither knowing how they really got there. lol
Kikue and Tobirama's relationship as student and sensei will become something that is fleshed out more, and who knows what effects it'll have on the future. You may notice Kikue switches between first and third person sometimes. This is a tick of hers that comes and goes depending on how anxious or excited or serious she is.
And, I don't think things would be complete if there wasn't a little thirst trap Hashirama as a treat. There's a lot more of that in upcoming chapters as well.
Meanwhile, I know I state it a lot but...reviews are the most direct motivator for me. I understand that everyone is in different places right now. But I really do put a lot into trying to get these typed and cranked out. I do my own beta-ing usually, and wrestle with limited free time as a factor in why updates are slow. I know some people really look forward to these updates and it's always my hope that if someone needs an escape be it from a bad day or a stressful work environment or health, family troubles...whatever. This can provide them with an escape for just a little while. I also really get something out of reading your reviews. It feels like the fairest, easiest way to maintain interaction between writer and reader. If you liked something in a chapter, please let me know! Life is tough almost everywhere for almost everyone right now. This pandemic has pushed a lot of us to our breaking points. I definitely understand that being in my field. Hopefully we can come together to make each other's days a little brighter. So if you enjoyed something, I'd appreciate it if you said it. Nothing is too 'trivial' to mention. And dropping a line that says something stuck out to you in a good way is never a "nuisance" to me. I don't mind that English is not everyone's first language. Effort is beautiful in and of itself.
A small addition, I have been playing with Picrew, and was able to make some of my OCs in case anyone is interested in a visual representation of them. Some people have asked me about references because they want to try doing art of OCs they're attached to (I'm over-the-moon flattered) and so I will put up the images on my tumblr more than likely: anoceaninthesun there as well.
Thank you for taking the time to read another of my chapters, and until next time!
