I feel like this chapter has a little bit of everything, or that was the intent at least. There should be something for everyone. Also beware that some moments in this chapter are rated 'S' for spicy. If you're not interested in reading something like that, please skip over it when it comes up. I decided to do a little experimentation here.
I also don't think two updates in one month is bad at all for me.
In his relatively young life, Tobirama was aware he had made his fair share of mistakes. What was happening to him now had to be every poor decision catching up to him at once. Well, it was perhaps slightly melodramatic considering he'd survived an encounter with a vengeful Sanna, but nonetheless he was suffering.
As with anything Hashirama had a hand in, he expected there to be chaos. It was almost more of his brother's specialty than the Mokuton, though at first things didn't seem as bad as he was prepared for. The room, a rather large space to begin with, was full of Uchiha and Senju clan members alike, all of them waiting behind Sakura with anxious expressions. "Happy birthday!" She smiled, arms stretching out to usher them in.
Truth be told his birthday was two days away, but it was too late to bring it up when Tobirama suddenly found himself swept right into the midst of the festivities. "So this is what all the secrets were about?" Izuna asked, surveying the room.
"You can't honestly tell me either of you would have come willingly if you'd known." Sakura challenged.
Tobirama took one look at Izuna, who eyed him back. They turned away from each other instantly.
"Thought so," the pinkette concluded with a nod.
A powerful chakra signature fell over him like a shadow. "You're both here now though, so…"
Tobirama quickly ducked out from under the arm before it could fall across his shoulders, rounding on his brother with a reproachful look. Madara happened to be standing just over Hashirama's shoulder, looking bored as he munched on sushi.
"I knew you were up to no good. I just didn't know you were conspiring to do something like this."
"Am I villain for wanting to give my little brother a nice birthday?" He prodded, "You know it's your first one in the village, and so much has changed for the better since last year. It's a blessing in itself to be able to celebrate something so—"
"Frivolous?" Tobirama supplied.
"Momentous," Hashirama corrected. "It's momentous to have made it as far as we all have. So stop fighting me on this."
In a small way...he had a point. Tobirama never dared to think of birthdays with lingering sentimentality growing up, but he had spent every year of his childhood very aware that the odds had been against him reaching adulthood since he first stepped onto the frontlines.
"Was this ever bound to go any other way?" Madara spoke up, no longer preoccupied by food, "You'd be a fool to expect any gratitude. Your younger brother and enjoyment don't go hand in hand to any degree."
Tobirama could think of a few scathing words that did go hand in hand with the way he felt for the insufferable Uchiha; but before he could, a glass was being pushed into his hand.
Naoko Uchiha had smoothly come bearing drinks. Surprisingly, Toka was with her, staring into her own glass hesitantly. "Not today. There's plenty of enjoyment to go around, so everyone had better be partaking."
Huffing, Tobirama looked over and caught Sakura's eyes, but she merely shrugged.
Hashirama gratefully accepted, never one to pass on warm alcohol, taking another glass and giving it to Madara. "This takes me back, you know," he nudged Madara. "Do you remember that time we snuck honey wine down to the river when we were kids? You liked it so much you drank too fast and threw up."
Izuna peered curiously at his brother. "You know, I think I remember that. You came stumbling home, flushed and extremely clingy. I helped put you to bed and made up an excuse to our parents so you wouldn't get in trouble."
Hashirama chuckled, slapping Madara's back. "It makes me wonder if you're any better at handling your alcohol now."
Tobirama watched Madara draw himself up taller, although he still couldn't compare to Hashirama's height. "I think you know the answer to that."
"Do I?"
An ego was a powerful thing, and his brother knew how to manipulate them masterfully all while appearing oblivious. Granted, Madara wasn't a difficult target in that regard.
"Is that a challenge?"
"What's...what's happening here?" Sakura asked as Hashirama and Madara stormed off to find an available spot and a full bottle of alcohol.
"Something that could only end poorly," Izuna sighed.
"Something interesting." Naoko responded at the same time. "They're going to need a judge for this." The woman eagerly followed, perching herself nearby among the people already gathering.
Tobirama knew at that moment the night was only going to get worse from there.
Sakura watched as the Hokage, now tipsy, leaned into the table. His nose nearly touched Madara's, who was swaying forward. The flush was apparent on his pale skin, spreading swiftly down his neck, but he stubbornly lifted a shaky hand for another drink. "No one here would think less of you if you stopped now." Hashirama told him.
"N-no!" Madara shook his head, the eye not covered by his hair filled with defiance. "N-No way. You're not," he hiccuped, "beating me this time!"
"Alright, alright!" Hashirama held up his hands. "I was just offering."
"Should we step in now?" Sakura mumbled, Izuna and Tobirama on either side of her. She felt bad on their behalf. This was supposedly all put together for the two of them to have a chance to talk, get to know each other. But their brothers' sense of competitiveness had derailed that before it had a chance to really happen.
"There's no need. When they get like this, it's best it be allowed to run its course." Toka looked on solemnly, a little disappointment on her face. The Senju woman was always so put together and dignified in public, Sakura was sure that if they weren't friends she would have never seen the slightly more open side she showed in private. She definitely didn't approve of the way her clan leader was conducting himself, but knew him well enough to know it was better not to interfere.
"She's right," Tobirama agreed. "One of them will pass out soon enough. Then we can pretend it never happened."
"I'm bettin' on Lord Madara turning it all around." An Uchiha boasted loudly to one of his friends.
The trio glanced over, but they weren't the only ones who'd overheard.
"Hah! You must be in a hurry to part with your money." A Senju woman moved closer, hands on her hips. "I've had drinks with Lord Hashirama plenty of times before. He can handle his alcohol with the best of 'em."
"Yeah, well then it's a wager!"
Sakura blinked, watching the spectators begin pulling out money and placing bets. "Uh…this feels more like a rowdy tavern than a birthday party now."
"I think that makes it more like my kind of party." Naoko gleefully looked on, still sitting in a chair and watching the two men chug alcohol.
"Hey Madara," Hashirama said above the excited din. "I didn't want to say anything earlier, but if you keep going like this, you're going to run into that problem pretty soon."
"The only problem is going to be...peeling you out of the corner later." Madara spat, "You know how pathetic you are the minute things don't go your w-way…"
"Hmm?" Placing his cup down, the Hokage placed his head between his hands. "Isn't this coming from the man who use to freeze up so badly at just the thought of someone standing behind him when he—"
"You asshole, that was years ago!" Madara roared, his hair fluffing up to a frightening degree. Sakura, very lost, turned to the two younger brothers for clarity.
"Oh, no…" Izuna groaned.
"What?" Sakura asked urgently. "What're they talking about?"
Tobirama's eyes gleamed, his lips quirking as if he was fighting off a smirk, but he didn't answer.
"Remember? All I had to do was stand behind you and it froze up mid-stream!" Hashirama bellowed in laughter. "You were so embarrassed! Then you got angry and started chasing me around, trying to hit me with your 'forbidden water jutsu'."
The redness now covering Madara's cheeks grew even darker, though it was hard to say if it was rage or embarrassment.
Sakura heard a few quiet snickers, seeing several people covering their mouths to no avail. "Is he...talking about what I think he is?"
"Madara's always been pretty sensitive about that…" Izuna spoke through the hands covering his face. "He's definitely going to blow."
"You...utter...bastard," The Uchiha head growled. "I should have thrown you into that puddle of piss when I had the chance."
"You were whipping it everywhere," Hashirama continued, laughing boisterously, "It was pretty disgusting. Then you almost slipped and—"
For someone so intoxicated, no one could accuse Madara of moving slowly. He had successfully lunged across the table and grabbed Hashirama by the front of his shirt in seconds, sending them both toppling crown over heel.
"That didn't take as long as I thought it would. But looks like Lord Hashirama wins!" The woman who had bet on him surveyed the two men rolling around on the floor grappling and then stuck out her hand to the Uchiha she bet against.
He smacked it away with a scoff. "There's no way to determine who won now, they didn't even finish."
"I have to admit though, that was a pretty cunning ploy." Izuna grumbled, shaking his head. "And Madara fell for it so easily."
"Hashirama's especially good at manipulating people in less than subtle ways and still managing to have it work." Tobirama mused.
"No one's really that concerned about them brawling it out," Sakura noted. "So I guess I shouldn't be either." The image the Hokage had painted of himself running away from an irate Madara who was trying desperately to pee on him made an involuntary laugh bubble up. "I guess we should just be glad they didn't resort to solving things like they did as children."
"Yes," Toka stared at the two men with a small frown. "It makes me wonder how Lord Butsuma never caught onto their antics sooner."
"There's no telling what else they got into alone together, but I'd also just as soon not know." Izuna rubbed his forehead.
"I for one am curious…" Naoko held her chin. "But I can hold in my curiosity for tonight. What say we join in on the fun happening over there?" A few Senju had brought instruments, and were playing upbeat music that people had begun dancing to.
"I'll need a partner though," She peered into each of their faces, eyes lighting up mischievously as they landed on Toka, who was deliberately avoiding her gaze.
"No," the Senju protested. "I'm not much for dancing. I've never…"
"No time like the present is there?" Naoko crooned, tugging her by the hand. Toka only had time to shoot Sakura an uncharacteristically pleading look before she was led away.
"Huh, you wouldn't think so because of how unlike each other they are, but they have a strange sort of symbiosis." Izuna said, sipping down the last of his drink.
"I think that's called chemistry." Sakura teased him, "But you're right. I've thought that before too."
"Chemistry," Izuna repeated, a smile finding a home on his lips. "I knew there was a better word for it." Sakura didn't know if it was the alcohol or the atmosphere, but something unspoken passed between them, and she was taken back to that bizarre moment earlier when Izuna almost seemed like he wanted to...wanted to…
His eyes were so pretty, dark and kind. When he looked at her like that, she could almost let herself get caught up in fantasizing and pretend—
"Izuna," Even in the sea of bodies loitering throughout the large room, the single other white head of hair besides Tobirama wasn't difficult to spot. Sakura waved, seeing Jun'ichi carefully making his way to them with his sisters in tow. Being that it was a party for both Tobirama and Izuna, it felt like a good idea to invite people they were close to outside their clans. Knowing that Izuna and Junji could easily be described as friends, Sakura extended an invitation to him.
"Jun'ichi," Izuna's momentary surprise gave way to visible happiness, the two hugging briefly. "It's nice that you could come, and nice to see the girls with you."
"It's been a while," Sakura returned Kikue's eager hug, though she only offered Harihane a friendly look, as it appeared the girl was intent on keeping up her surliness for the time being.
"I didn't really ask to come." Harihane declared, crossing her arms and remaining close to her brother.
"Yes but you didn't put up a fight either," Jun'ichi fondly ruffled her hair.
"Don't do that!" She exclaimed. "I'm ready to go!"
Kikue sang out, dancing around her older sister, "No you're not~" Sakura, Jun'ichi and Izuna laughed quietly as Harihane fumed.
"I'm going to the snack table!" She began to stomp away, only to pause unsurely and turn back around with a demanding glare. "Well?"
"It's that way," Sakura pointed to where a sizable variety of food stuffs was laid out, already being enjoyed by hungry partygoers.
"Fine, thanks." Harihane said, unusually quiet as she trudged away.
"It's been about twelve days since she last tried to escape the academy I'm told." Junji told them.
"Progress." Sakura sighed.
"Kikue's making lots of progress too!"
Although Hashirama had told her about Tobirama making Kikue his apprentice of sorts, seeing how she latched onto him in a hug without a second thought was a little viscerally jarring. Sakura no longer thought of Tobirama as the cold, unfeeling person he tried to portray himself as so often, but she didn't expect him to take Kikue's personality in such stride.
As they watched, the dark-haired little girl pulled out a long piece of red string and began twining it around her fingers. "This is the cat's eye I practiced!" With decent dexterity, she showed them all the pattern she'd made.
Tobirama lifted her hands up by the wrists, a touch of pride in his eyes. "Good." he said, making Kikue's eyes grow rounder and shinier.
"That's not all. Look, look! I practiced this one too!" Maneuvering her fingers again, Kikue made another pattern, this time a star.
"She's been very diligent it every day. She's always carrying that string around." Junji explained.
Sakura wanted to coo at the way Kikue stood taller, happy for the attention.
"It's good to see you're taking the training to heart." The Senju remarked.
"Uh-huh, I am! And there's one more figure I practiced!"
Sakura quickly found herself faced with big, hopeful eyes as Kikue held out her string. "Will you help me?"
"A-alright," she found herself agreeing before she even knew what the little Kaguya intended, unable to say no to the sweet face.
Humming, Kikue stood on her tiptoes and hooked the string around one of Sakura's pinky fingers, then held up the other end toward Tobirama. Puzzled, the pinkette watched her snag his hand and began looping it around his index finger. "I still need more fingers!" She cried.
Looking between his sister and the fingers she held captive, Jun'ichi tried to soothe her. "Kikue….maybe you should just use my hands instead."
"But...I wanna do it this way." She pouted, voice growing slightly whiny. "I'm making the spider's web!"
Sakura had vague recollections of playing ayatori with Ino and sometimes Shikamaru and Chouji in childhood. She was never very coordinated at it, so her younger, less confident self grew discouraged fast, especially when it came to the more complicated patterns. It seemed like that's what Kikue wanted to attempt though, as she hopped up and down next to Izuna.
"Now you, okay?"
Izuna offered his hand without a noise of complaint, patiently letting Kikue arrange his hand how she wanted. All of them shared curious expressions with each other, though when Izuna and Tobirama would lock eyes it turned sour quickly. As Kikue guided their hands through the pattern she wanted to make, they were forced to move closer, Sakura ending up more or less in the middle as the busy child worked. "Almost finished!"
"Except that your hand isn't attached anywhere in the string." Tobirama noticed.
Gasping, Kikue's head shot up as she dramatically clasped her hands to her cheeks. "Oh no!" Wringing her small hands together, she pasted on a wide, wobbly smile. "Uh, I mean….it's not like Kikue completely forgot or anything."
Tobirama eyed his apprentice suspiciously. "Hm,"
"I think you should just finish the pattern. You're taking up their time, after all." Jun'ichi urged with a gentle pat to his sister's back.
"Okay!" Kikue grasped a portion of the string and pulled back to give it the loose shape of a triangle. "Now I need to tug, here…" The light tug moved their hands a bit, but if Kikue's little sigh was any indication it wasn't her intended result. "Pull a bit more like this…." she tugged again, more firmly and accompanied by a worried grunt.
Seeing the little girl quickly getting discouraged, Sakura offered her an encouraging nod, "It's fine!"
"Is it?" Tobirama grumbled, staring at Izuna.
"You can stop staring at me like that. I'm not thrilled to be this close to you either." The Uchiha retorted.
Sakura wedged her shoulder between them before they could literally butt heads. "Will you both stop it? I'm standing in between you."
Kikue gave a sharp pull at the string, stepping back a few paces. Not expecting the surprising amount of force she used, Sakura stumbled forward, Izuna and Tobirama following involuntarily.
Her face was warm and only getting warmer, lips pressing to both corners of her mouth simultaneously. While one set burned hot, the other was cool, almost icy. Between the differing temperatures and the smooth flesh caressing her sensitive skin, Sakura felt like she was rapidly melting to goo.
It was hardly the full on lip lock Naruto and Sasuke had once accidentally shared, but it made her shamefully weak in the knees all the same, just to be 'kissed' by two men at once—these two men in particular.
All three pulled away, dragged from their stupored states by the cheers and claps resounding throughout the room.
"Whoopsie…" Kikue, the cause of it all, twiddled her fingers with a blush, Jun'ichi steering her in front of him by the shoulders. "...I pulled too hard."
Once freed, Sakura cupped her cheeks, stepping back as if lips would magically find their way back to her face again. Tobirama held the back of his hand against his mouth, unwilling to look anywhere but at the floor and his face uncharacteristically rosy. One would be forgiven for assuming he'd imbibed in a few glasses of alcohol that night.
Izuna was staring at her shyly, his own countenance bright pink, hands at his sides. Sakura couldn't hold his gaze for long before she was fighting the urge to hide her eyes. "I...I'm going to go get some water!"
It was the flimsiest excuse she could possibly come up with, but it did the trick. People parted with sympathetic looks or soft whispers about how 'cute' or 'startling' it was as she fled to the other end of the receiving room.
Izuna sat with his tingling lips pressed together, fingers tapping restlessly against his leg. He watched Sakura practically run to hide on the other side of the room, and his heart sank a little. That hadn't been what he was planning. One minute he was content just to stand close to her, and the next minute thanks to Kikue's slip up, his lips were pressed against the side of her mouth.
She was speaking with Naoko and Toka, but she wouldn't so much as glance in his direction. Sakura was a sentimental girl, that much he knew. A girl that kisses meant something to. He wasn't sure if it even counted as a real kiss, and if it did, he wasn't so sure he'd want Tobirama's lips on him either, but it was all an accident.
Jun'ichi had jogged off with Kikue to console her, as she blubbered on and on about being sorry in spite of Izuna saying it was okay.
Gradually, everyone returned to what they were doing. Eating or talking or dancing to the instruments. Senju and Uchiha alike were content in each other's company, many mingling civilly. That, at least, was a success.
But Izuna had found himself a seat against the wall and hadn't budged since.
It would be just his luck that things grew weird between them after all the courage Izuna had been working up lately to show her how he felt. Cool glass nudged at his cheek, and he tilted his head to see Madara, appearing a bit more sober, offering him a drink. Izuna sighed, accepting it, though he wasn't sure if he'd feel any better when he got to the bottom. His older brother sat down beside him with Hashirama appearing to take a seat on the bench next to his friend. Tobirama found a spot on his brother's other side, evidently having been dragged out of whatever corner he slunk off to. The four of them sat silently for a beat, soaking in the atmosphere around them.
They had done a good job decorating, Izuna noticed absently. The high ceilings were decorated with paper streamers, the decadent amount of snacks, including some desserts he could see several children gorging themselves on, and the burning candles strung throughout the room giving off a milky, vanilla fragrance. "Well…" Madara cleared his throat, sipping from a glass of hot tea that seemed to be doing the job of returning him to his senses. "You can die saying you've kissed a woman."
"Go to hell," Izuna grunted, finally sampling his alcohol. It warmed the back of his throat as it slid down, smooth. Senju honey wine was truly something else.
"That's pretty insensitive, Madara." Hashirama shook his head in disappointment. "Our younger brothers are gentlemen. I'm sure they feel the weight of stealing Sakura-san's first kiss and want to make it right."
"Do not drag me into this." Tobirama growled from his brother's other side. Though the wine went down so nicely, it gave the younger Senju's baritone a rougher quality.
"How do you know if that was Haruno's first kiss?" Madara asked, "I'd say without two sets of lips pressed together it doesn't count anyway."
"It's just the impression I got," Hashirama mumbled, sloshing the amber liquid in his glass around before knocking it back. "Sakura-san has a...certain quality." The tanned man paused to think. "How do I describe it? She's very open with her emotions, but also guarded. It makes me think she's not keen on letting anyone get close to her...not like that at least."
"What are you up to, anija?" Tobirama demanded with a leer.
Izuna was as suspicious as his childhood rival. It sounded like Hashirama had been putting some thought into Sakura and how it was possible to be close to her on an intimate level.
"It's not me you should be asking. Madara's the one who breaks into her house routinely."
"You what ?" Apparently, no one had bothered to inform Tobirama, who looked as delighted with that information as Izuna would expect. "What business could you possibly have there, Uchiha?"
Ignoring the hostile tone, Madara leaned back and regarded the fuming man in near boredom. "That's between Haruno and I." Assessing Hashirama's brother, he added, "Don't think it's escaped notice how much you're trying to cozy up to her now. I thought you had so much contempt for her before, but now you address her by first name."
"What was it you just said?" Tobirama's lip curled, "'That's between Sakura and I'."
"Enjoy having access to her while it lasts. It's all going to go away…" Madara announced, grinning darkly. "When she becomes my woman."
Hashirama pressed an arm into his younger brother's chest in the knick of time, because Tobirama looked one minute away from going for Madara's throat.
"T-Tobirama...you can't make a scene at your birthday party!" Hashirama tried.
"You should've thought about that before you invited him along—before you planned any of this actually." Tobirama shrugged off his brother's grip. "His interest is clearly nefarious."
Izuna had noticed the same thing his brother had. Tobirama and Sakura were growing quite close, and that was definitely attributed to the adventure they had been on together. Izuna couldn't control who she chose to associate with, and he could imagine the hell anyone who tried would have on their hands.
All he could do was remain a constant presence in her life, show her why he was the best choice. Madara was his brother, but...he wasn't willing to simply stand aside so easily. Never mind if either of the Senju brothers took an interest.
"That's just your personal history with Madara talking."
Whether suddenly mellowed by the alcohol or simply finding physically resisting futile, Tobirama settled long enough to take a deep breath. "You don't have all the facts." he muttered.
"Oh?" Hashirama arched a curious brow. "Which are?"
"I hate him."
"I hope you aren't too surprised to find the feeling to be mutual." Madara shot back breezily.
Izuna was starting to regret freely imbibing in all the alcohol. He was getting a bad headache and the back and forth wasn't helping.
So, Sakura choosing that moment to pluck up her bravery and walk over, holding a package in her hands, was par for the course at that point in the night. His luck hadn't held so far, why would it begin to now?
Sakura felt stupid the more she thought about it. What was there to freak out over, two attractive men accidentally putting their lips to her skin? It wasn't deliberate, so it didn't count. She had unflinchingly delivered life-saving mouth to mouth to her male teammate and never given it a second thought. Yes, it was a much more dire situation back then, but if she had come through that alright, this wasn't outside the realm of what she could handle.
Talking to Toka and Naoko helped her steel herself to head back over. They were pretty understanding, knowing her feelings about her small attraction after girl's night.
It made it easier to get it together and face them. She hadn't given Tobirama his gift yet after all, and it wouldn't be fair not to take the opportunity presented to do so. She'd already given Izuna his, and was pleased to see him making use of it.
She'd spent a little time fretting over if the inro's design meaning made it too intimate, but hastily decided she wouldn't overthink it. Ivory, she was told by the shopkeeper, was popular. But the kunoichi wasn't a fan of how it was obtained, so she opted for the less commonly chosen material of agate. It was pretty, durable and unique. The inro itself had five draw-like compartments, each rippling in various colors from black to sea foam green.
The cord attached to the netsuko was royal blue, a color Uchiha favored. Instead of having the netsuko made in the shape of an animal, she wanted it to be something more personal. After mastering the Dragon State, Sakura found she sometimes would shed the odd scale.
It didn't hurt, and she had saved several just because they fascinated her. They were so lustrous and sharp and they actually came from her! Finding one of the pretty silver scales tinged a vibrant, fluorescent red in the light, she had it encased in a small rectangular chunk of clear resin to serve as the inro's netsuko. Not sure if Izuna would understand, Sakura had taken it one step further, writing the words she was too shy to tell him in person. After all, it was a bit sappy.
" I was pretty lost not that long ago, but you were one of the first people who reached out a hand in friendship. You're always reliable and encouraging. Even when I struggled against the blights and couldn't control the Dragon State, you were there trying to steady me. Thank you."
Sakura hadn't wanted to say more in fear it would be uncomfortably mushy, but she had to let him know how much she appreciated him and his friendship. After she attacked him, tried to kill him, he could have run his blade through her to defend himself. It would have been perfectly justified. Instead he risked his life to find her in the murky darkness of her head, until she found the willpower to break free. To be trusted so fully made her heart twinge a little, but Izuna didn't need to know that.
Four pairs of eyes were locked on her the minute she began walking over, sending a shiver down her spine. Sakura held it even straighter to compensate, mentally running through what she should say.
Madara looked ready to throw out a—no doubt unnecessary—comment, only for the Hokage to anticipate and intercept. "We should go. We never did find out who could out drink who."
"It's a fixed competition." Madara scoffed, "It always is with you."
"That's not true," Hashirama replied, "But if you'd feel more comfortable trying something else, I haven't arm-wrestled you in ages."
"Fine. Try not to gloom up the atmosphere too badly when you lose." They stood in unison, walking off with Hashirama's arm around Madara's shoulders as they looked for somewhere to start.
It was easy to see how that could get exhausting. They were like Naruto and Sasuke as genin, but somehow worse. Down to the two younger brothers, Sakura held out the package in Tobirama's direction. "I...wanted to give you this. Sorry I didn't earlier, but Reira told me you raise koi, so I hope you like it."
As he took the box from her, pulling the string holding it shut, Sakura watched with bated breath. They had gotten closer recently, but she still wasn't sure if what she got him was something he'd like. But when he pulled out the midnight blue hand-made haori from its wrapping and held it up to see better, there was an appreciative gleam in his eyes.
Sakura released her breath, mentally congratulating herself. It was a beautifully made overcoat, three plump orange and white koi outlined in gold on the back, and the Senju clan crest sewn small but noticeable at the nape of the garment's neck. "Thank you, Sakura." Another of his rare little smiles made an appearance, making her feel just as flustered as she had been the first time she saw it. "This is an excellent gift."
"You'll have to try harder than that!" Hashirama crowed, bringing attention to he and Madara sloppily arm wrestling much to a nearby Toka's exasperation.
"Stop tensing your arm!" Madara barked.
"That's the whole point, my friend." The Hokage giggled, "I can't make it easy on you,"
"They'll never stop, will they?" Sakura questioned, suspecting she already knew the answer. Naruto and Sasuke tended to keep going unless she or Kakashi intervened, but usually they had to let the silly competition play out until both of them were worn down.
"In my experience, no." Tobirama and Izuna answered as one. She expected them to trade annoyed scowls, but they only sighed tiredly when they met eyes.
"I suppose this strange experience has served its purpose." Tobirama said.
"You mean you no longer want to kill me on sight." Izuna guessed. "Likewise."
An awkward pause passed between them, and Sakura stood ready to witness another brawl should one break out. "Is a personal truce appropriate for this situation?" Tobirama asked.
"I think so," Izuna stuck out his hand, and when Tobirama took it the whole room broke into cheering, though in reality they could have just as easily been rooting for the fact that Madara appeared to have emerged victorious, thus signaling the end of the shenanigans. Or so everyone hoped.
"You let me win, didn't you? Your arm suddenly went slack!"
"I wish you'd make up your mind about what you want," Hashirama pouted as Madara insisted they needed a true, deciding round.
"Yes…" Tobirama eyed their older brothers in exasperation Sakura was sure extended right down into his bones. "Perhaps we've had more in common all along than either of us recognized."
Izuna downed the rest of his wine. "It looks that way." They glanced at her, then back at each other before the pinkette could decipher the hidden message.
Sakura smiled, glad at least something positive had come from the strange night. "I'm glad you two aren't going to follow their example."
"You must be joking," Tobirama sounded so affronted she had to laugh.
"I think they're down for the count, at least. The real burden is going to be getting them home." Izuna nodded at a strangely heartwarming scene. Having finally tuckered themselves out, Hashirama and Madara were curled next to each other on the floor, fast asleep.
Someone scuttled over and dropped a blanket over them, and to Sakura's amusement they both cuddled into it.
"Leave them." Tobirama stated. "They deserve the headaches they wake up to, and each other."
A hand grasped at her ankle, stroking upward across her bare skin. Sleepily, she opened her eyes a crack, the warm weight of the palm stroking her leg all the way to the top of her thigh making her skin pebble. So slow and methodical, the stroking turning into a pressured rub that eased tension in her calves and thighs she wasn't even aware she had.
Just as her eyelids were drooping shut again, the gentle massage lulling her back to sleep, a second, slightly cooler hand touched her other leg, easing it to the side. Confusion beginning to pull her away from unconsciousness, she began to sit up, able to make out the sight of a blurry figure crawling closer, heat emanating off a body that slotted itself between her sprawled legs.
"Wha…?" She murmured, rubbing at an eye.
A slender finger came to rest against her lips. "You don't have to do anything but relax."
Two large palms pulled her in close by the waist, heat prickling up her spine to the nape of her neck as they slid under her loose shirt. The touch lingered at her sides, rough fingers pressing into her supple flesh, feeling lovely despite doing very little. The digits moved deliberately, taking their time dragging her shirt away from her body until the fabric was up to her shoulders, and then unceremoniously slipped off and discarded.
Although she valiantly refrained from trying to hide her body, it was too late to do anything about the prominent flush spreading as hands mapped her skin. There was a soft, masculine chuff of satisfaction as she gave herself over to the touches. She would have expected to feel bashful or hesitant, but maybe the confidence he exuded was catching. "I've been wondering something for a while…" he said, half-lidded gaze falling to her lips. He was supporting himself above her, but their chests brushed with every breath, and she could smell the heady spice and male musk clinging to him. Just a little more and his lips would descend on hers, something she was anxiously anticipating.
"What?" She asked, unable to hide the note of impatience from her voice.
A shaky gasp escaped as the owner of the second set of hands she'd forgotten about got closer. She only had a split second to wonder what he was planning before she was lifted and situated against a solid body, strong thighs encasing her. Unlike the unrushed pair of hands that had been on her seconds earlier, the second pair found her breasts and set to work rubbing at the undersides, letting sure thumbs tease the tips into stiff peaks.
Lips pecked the side of her neck, gently nuzzling. "You're always so pretty, but even prettier like this, ready for us." A second voice sighed.
Her head lolled almost all the way over, if not for a commanding grip on her chin, forcing her to meet intense eyes. "How long you were going to keep running from this?" He didn't wait for an answer, claiming her mouth in a kiss that could have seared the hairs off the back of her neck.
Reflexively, her hands reached up, falling onto his broad shoulders and pulling him closer, his tongue stroking at hers. A deft suck and she was whimpering into his lips, dexterous fingers moving from gripping at the top of her leg to moving towards her inner thigh.
Getting an idea what he wanted, she let her legs fall open even further, arching into the digits now plucking idly at her nipples while a hot mouth alternated between nipping marks into her neck and soothing the rougher nips with a laving tongue.
His touch ghosted through her curls, sinking wetly into her core at the same moment the teeth nibbling at her neck bit down harder. An involuntary spasm wracked through her, and she squeezed down on his fingers with a breathy moan. "You're sucking me right in. And you're already dripping," he pumped in and out several times before removing the digits to show her the strings of arousal on them, "...wet."
She could only pant, eyes dilating as he slipped them into his mouth. A sly hand snaked between them, wasting no time in slipping through her heat with ease.
Besides them toying with her, nothing much had happened, but she already felt pressure in her lower stomach. The hand, glinting with her juices, lifted past her face. She felt the hum as much as she heard it, taking the fact that she could feel his imposing arousal pressing against her from behind as a sign that he enjoyed her taste. A slick thumb pushed between her lips, the syrupy flavor meeting her tastebuds.
The stimulation was almost too much to bear, a hand scratching at her scalp, another pinching her nipple red, and a third stirring her up inside while she sucked her juices off the thumb of the fourth without prompting.
It was delicious, it was torturous, it was… "Only the beginning." he promised.
ASiT
Waking up didn't happen gradually so much as with a jolt. Sakura nearly banged her chin, wondering when she had rolled onto her stomach. It wasn't her normal sleeping position, and as she began rolling to her side, the tell-tale damp stickiness between her legs alerted her to her first problem of the morning.
"Are you kidding me?!" Crying out in frustration was really all she could do, faced with a situation she couldn't exactly fight her way out of. She noticed the sharp feline eyes of Usamaro lazily blink at her as he yawned, communicating with soft meows.
Either her cat was telling her she was overreacting to something pretty normal, or that it was too early to be so loud. "Sorry," she apologized. Moving from her stomach to her back, Sakura sat up, keeping her thighs clamped together. It didn't ease the ache or the obvious wetness. If anything it made her more aware.
Cradling her head in her hands, she took a long, deep breath, blowing it out after silently counting down. After several more, the pinkette felt a little more able to think rationally.
The party was three days behind her, and she had run into the men several times since then, however briefly, while going around the village. The interactions weren't awkward, but something was...different, though she was likely just imagining it.
Yes, they had been a little more prone to touching her as of late, but they were just shoulder pats or finger brushes. Tobirama sometimes stood closer than strictly necessary, but no one was doing anything inappropriate—Madara liked to push the line more than the others though and Izuna's odd behavior when she gave him the cookies was probably a one off.
Things had been...normal enough. Mizuchi hadn't come calling yet, and Sakura still felt like she needed to wind down from the last crazy mission the goddess threw her into, so she wasn't complaining. Relaxing in the village with a little extra vigilance suited her just fine.
Then came this, in the midst of her trying to move beyond the angst generated by eyeing up people who were off-limits, her subconscious decided to supply her with one hell of a slap in the face to remind her that the attraction was still there, however repressed.
Fantastic.
Sakura tossed her head back and groaned, knowing Usamaro wouldn't hold it against her. What was she supposed to do if this went on? Sure, she was a teenage girl who sometimes had needs. She knew it was natural, everything was functioning properly and she shouldn't hold it against her brain for straying into naughty territory from time to time. But it had been a while since she'd felt anything so strong.
The first time she had ever dared to touch herself was shortly after the genin team placement. Something about seeing Sasuke, knowing she would continue to see him without the obstruction of the other girls in class watching like hawks, had just excited her so much, and before she knew it there was an unfamiliar ache in her nether regions.
A few exploratory touches found her underwear damp, and a little more awkward rubbing did the trick. From then the aches had come and gone, and after doing some reading (her specialty) and finding it was pretty common, Sakura dealt with the urge whenever it arose.
After Sasuke left the village, it just...didn't feel right. The aches didn't disappear but she felt guilty. Guilty enough for not immediately abandoning her feelings for the boy who left her and more importantly, put Naruto in such a critical state, and guiltier still for any pubescent lust that bubbled up sometimes.
In time, she had started sneaking her mother's romance novels, trying to replace the image of her crush with that of a faceless, chiseled guy from the book. Sometimes it worked, and sometimes Sakura fell asleep with a pillow pressed tight between her legs, frustrated and throbbing.
She had never had an erotic dream though. She couldn't remember faces, or even who those voices belonged to, but Sakura had definitely dreamt of being pleasured by two men at once. Just when she vowed to tamp down any budding attraction that could cause issues later, her treacherous mind decided to ignore all reason and indulge anyway.
There was no telling who the identities of her dream men were, or if they had identities at all, but something had to be responsible for the risqué direction of the dream. The pulse between her thighs had her rubbing them together, a cautious hand sliding under the hem of her yukata. It was so tempting to just...touch herself, find a quick release and pretend it had never happened. Usamaro didn't seem likely to gossip about it to the other neighborhood cats.
Closing her eyes, Sakura got comfortable, ready to try conjuring a steamy scenario between herself and the conventionally attractive male lead in the last romance book she had read.
His muscular arms would drag her closer, his mouth would claim hers with surety, his deep eyes would shine with lust and his intoxicating scent of grilled fish would put her…
Cracking one eye open, Sakura looked over to see Usamaro standing with ears erect and nose in the air, eyes glued to the door. "Do you smell that too?" she whispered.
As the cat began meowing in hunger, pacing by the door, Sakura realized she did indeed smell fish cooking. There was a chance one of her neighbor's was making breakfast with their window open, but unless one of hers was also open, how was the smell getting in? It was so near, it could have been coming from her own kitchen.
Curiosity and caution were beginning to cancel out any lingering lust and frustration, Sakura fixing her clothes to the best of her abilities and getting up. The smell was even stronger in the hall, Usamaro whining, almost salivating at the mouth as he nosed his way out the door.
Sakura crept silently, following the scent to the room it appeared to originate from, her jaw nearly dropping.
Madara Uchiha was nonchalantly cooking by the looks of it, tossing Usamaro a small piece of simmered fish when he wandered closer. Despite the way the animal usually behaved around the Uchiha, the peace offering seemed to make him tame, as he scooped it up and darted off to enjoy it by the window.
Sakura, for one, wasn't getting over his appearance so easily. More accurately it was his actions that were throwing her off. He broke in more than she wanted to admit, and as of late he had even taken to leaving foods, seemingly a hint that he expected her to cook at some point. In all the times of eating or leaving her food, this was a definite first. Was it possible she was still dreaming?
"Isn't this earlier than your usual?" Sakura queried.
Madara finished plating rice and fish together in a bowl before acknowledging her. "No fervent demands to know how I got in?"
"What's the point?" Sakura used the heel of her palm to wipe any remaining sleep from her vision. Nope, he was still there. "You've made that your thing, as much as I still hate it. ...Since when did you cook?" Come to think of it, she hadn't had fish in the house, as of yesterday. Not only had he broken in for the umpteenth time, but he'd brought fish with him with the intention of using her kitchen to cook it.
"I'm a man of many talents, Haruno." he informed her seriously, putting out the cooking fire. "Some I seldom show."
Sakura let her inquisitive nature win out, getting closer and continuing to watch, dumbfounded.
"I was taught from an early age," he sighed. "It makes no sense to learn a skill as important as hunting and not know how to prepare your game."
"I...guess that makes sense," Sakura agreed. "But that's outdoorsy and this is domestic."
The lopsided smirk on the man's face was nothing if not amused. "What you're saying in so many words is that it doesn't suit me."
"Right!" Sakura readily agreed, smacking a fist into her palm. "You're too brutish and...you!"
Madara shot her a look, unamused. "What are you insinuating?"
Sakura pursed her lips. "Hold on, why are you making breakfast here?"
Wielding fish and rice on the end of some chopsticks, the Uchiha had turned and shoved it into her mouth in one fluid motion. "A question that stupid doesn't suit your vast intellect."
The kunoichi wanted to tell him off for being so rough. She could've choked. But first she'd have to put aside the fact that the food was actually...decent. Secretly, maybe even good.
Snatching the bowl away, Sakura leaned against the counter, fixing him with a look of suspicion just so he didn't think he was in the clear.
"You're telling me you broke in this early in the morning to cook me breakfast?"
It was unlikely, absurd, ridiculous and strangely thoughtful (which meant either Madara had another bump to the head she had to examine or this was an imposter). "Saying it with so much doubt ruins the kindness of the notion," he tsked.
Sakura had another bite, ignoring him.
"Hm…"
Feeling a pointed stare, Sakura glared from over her bowl. "What? You're feeling gentlemanly enough to make me breakfast, but rude enough to stare while I eat it?"
He leaned a bit closer, Sakura leaning away in turn. "Slept well, Haruno? You're looking pretty haggard."
Smoothing a hand self-consciously through her messy hair, the pinkette found her appetite disappearing. In one way or another, Madara would find a way to bring down the mood. "Excuse me for not looking put together first thing in the morning in my own house."
"I think you're misunderstanding," he sidled closer, staring down into her face with a cocky grin. "You look deliciously…" he pulled at her yukata, and Sakura realized it was hanging almost all the way off one shoulder until he'd fixed it, "disheveled. I'm finding myself fonder of it by the minute."
All she had in the absence of her failing wits—why did this man always manage to do this to her?—was the bowl clutched to her chest, preventing him from pressing flush against her. Her eyes narrowed challengingly, "You wouldn't look any better if you always had certain people pushing their way into your space and confusing you. It's like you don't even care when you make me…" Sakura drew a sharp breath, freezing in abject horror.
It was too late; Madara's tight grip pulled her in by the hips, face bearing down on hers so closely she was sure he could taste her breakfast. It didn't deter him in the slightest, his eyes gleaming and determined. "When I make you what, Haruno?" The bottomless deepness of his voice, taunting her, made Sakura curl her shoulders to her ears. She really, really hadn't meant to say what she almost said.
Button-lipped, Sakura refused to incriminate herself any further. Madara was the absolute last person who needed to know.
His grip didn't ease, only traveling further up from her waist until he had hold of her arms. "Even if you won't say, do you really think I can't guess?" he laughed, his hot breath brushing her warm face. His nose barely touched her neck, and she heard him inhale. "From this close, it's impossible not to know."
Her legs felt close to buckling, and in spite of half of her rioting against it, the throbbing started anew, reminding her of the need she had never taken care of.
"Hah. You're misreading things as usual." Sakura denied, sounding far more confident than she felt. The press of the counter against the middle of her back wasn't a concern. If she needed to, the kunoichi could flip him to the ground with minimal effort, and yet the situation had her paralyzed. By fear...no. By something much worse—anticipation.
"Am I now?" he mocked, "I concede that you're a more enigmatic woman than I'm used to dealing with, but this time, I doubt that's the case. At least, not in this moment."
"Not in any moment." Sakura corrected stubbornly.
Fast as a sudden summer rain, Madara had his hand tangled at the back of her head, the other firmly holding her hip again. "It's not advised to let me ruin you," the Uchiha rasped, tongue wetting his lips. The unmistakable crimson of the Sharingan cut right through her. This was serious. He was serious. "However, if you consented, I would gladly—"
Mustering up the last of her inner strength, Sakura raised a fist, bringing it down on the crown of his head the way she would bop at an incessantly ringing alarm clock. Madara recoiled, loosening his hold enough for her to slip out. The only rebuttal she heard was a pained noise, his eyes returning to their normal black.
She shoved the bowl into the hand that wasn't cradling his head. "Thank you for the breakfast, but it's too early for that kind of propositioning." She pasted on an overly friendly smile, praying he didn't notice her hands shaking. The crinkled eye smile she adopted from her former sensei made it hard to see his reaction.
Not waiting for a response, Sakura walked right around him, passing a very confused, once again alert Usamaro. Traitor. One taste of simmered fish and he completely forgot to back her up. She had one hand on the doorknob before she realized two very important things; one of them was that her yukata was more disheveled than ever, straining nipples visible.
Clearing her throat, she motioned to the door. "This is my house." Sakura explained calmly, as if she hadn't almost dismissed herself and left him in her kitchen. "So you should be the one to go."
There was no other attempt to get handsy again, no parting shot at how he had clearly gotten under her skin so effectively. Just a dazed, slightly bemused Uchiha leaving.
Sakura slammed and locked the door behind him—for what little good locks did—and came to the conclusion that she absolutely had to do something drastic, or she was going to have a hard time keeping her dignity intact.
The sky was a bright blue, cottony clouds drifting serenely through the endless expanse. People of all ages roamed the streets, visiting stalls or entering business establishments. The air was ringed with the fragrances of takoyaki and sunshine, crackling with the vibrancy of the crowds.
It had been years since she had chased her mentor down to her old haunt, but Sakura knew the city well, even if it was her first time visiting nearly eighty years in the past. She had arrived in Tanzaku-gai.
It was a popular place for anyone seeking entertainment, plenty of things to do for adults, festivals for families, and historical sights for the history enthusiast. Sakura had never come to slack off or cut loose, dutifully collecting Tsunade before she could be run out of town whenever she found herself gambling in Tanzaku and then escorting her grumpy shishou back home. Who would have ever thought she would take a page from the Godaime's book and wander Tanzaku in search of her own excitement?
'It won't be for long.' Sakura reasoned, soaking in the bustling atmosphere. 'Who knows when I'll head off on another life or death journey. I should enjoy this time while I can.'
She had already gotten permission from the Hokage, simply requesting a day or two off and emphasizing that this time it was for relaxation purposes, and that she wouldn't be traveling far. He hadn't pressed her to specify her destination, holding back any curiosity he might've had and simply sending her off by bidding her a safe, fun time.
Sakura had Tanzaku-gai in mind the minute she stepped foot outside Konoha, asking Reira and Kagami to look after Usamaro and keep him out of trouble (and from following her) while she was gone.
Now here she was in the crowded, unpaved streets of a city brimming with things to do and places to explore. The best part was the sense of anonymity she felt, even with her hair setting her apart as usual. There might be a face or two from the village around—though so far she hadn't seen any she recognized—but Konoha shinobi in her time usually traveled to Tanzaku-gai with the express purpose of having a good time, so unless the intent was to join your fellow ninja in revelry, it was common courtesy to look the other way when spotting someone you knew in the tavern or the gambling parlors.
Sakura deliberated on what to do first; she had brought enough money along to afford just about anything that might catch her attention and to stay the night if she chose, intent on spoiling herself.
Being in the village was too chaotic and confusing for her poor, overtaxed brain. She didn't want to think about the ramifications of her titillating dream, Madara's blatant proposition or anything else involving the men who had her out of sorts. If she could squash it here and now before anything came of it, then everything was still fine.
She could still focus on her goal of going home, not have to spend the rest of her life in a giant puddle of guilt over finding shishou's grandfather handsome and charming or thinking that Madara Uchiha, the man who had nearly brought the world to its knees and plunged it into inescapable illusion, had some qualities that balanced out his arrogance, bluntness and obsessive tendencies in just the right way as to make them almost...tolerable.
That was was to say nothing over swooning at Izuna's kindness and support, or marveling at how easy it was to be with him (as a friend of course), or finding a surprisingly kindred spirit in Tobirama when it came to their dedication to research and noticing he was softer than he wanted to let on.
No! All of it could just go away here in Tanzaku, where there was no need to think about them and what they meant to her emotions and desires.
Sakura passed by several stalls, all selling interesting wares from protection charms to elixirs supposedly able to cure broken hearts, increase charisma and regrow long gone hair. Enthralled people probably new to town and awestruck stopped to watch a demonstration. Tanzaku hadn't changed much over the years in that it had always had everything. One could pick their poison and then easily find ten versions of it.
'Maybe I should get some souvenirs.' Sakura mused.
She was trying to decide what would be good and who she would get what for, when someone gripping her arm nearly had her swinging blindly. Taking a glance at who'd grabbed her made her so glad she had better control over her reflexes today.
A young woman only a few years older than herself was clinging to her, red in the face and out of breath. Her russet hair was in a ponytail, fringe clinging damply to her forehead. She had several heavy-looking bags dangling from her arms, and one look down revealed a bulging, swollen belly that was hard to miss.
"Sorry, I'm so sorry!" She tried to bow, but as expected, her movement was restricted. "I got a little dizzy there and just reached out for the first thing I could to keep my balance. If I go down now I don't think I'd be able to get back up."
"Don't worry about it." Her inner medic nin emerging (it was never far from the surface), Sakura frowned. "You're pale and shaking. You might be dehydrated," Wanting to offer support, she placed a gentle hand to the woman's back.
"That was on me for underestimating how slow I'd be," the young lady sighed, slouching. "But I'm all done shopping and nearly home now. So I'll be urgh," she tried to hide her little flinch with a bright smile of determination, "fine soon."
"I don't think I like the sound of you trying to go on in the state you're in by yourself. You could collapse." Sakura shook her head.
"But home's just around the corn—"
"Then let me walk you there," Sakura insisted, "It'd really keep me from worrying. I can take some of these too," She began easing the heaviest bags from the woman's arms without waiting for consent. Once she had transferred them to her own arms, Sakura was amazed the young woman hadn't been dragged forward. While they were no trouble for the kunoichi to manage with her strength and all the endurance training she had endured, an average civilian would have no doubt gotten tired after a short ten minutes. That was tenacity for you.
"Oh! You're too kind...I'm such a nuisance," she cupped a hand to her cheek in worry. "Troubling a stranger. And I bet you're here visiting too. I promise not everyone in town is so needy and helpless."
"You're not needy," Sakura said sternly, "this is just a job that needs an extra set of hands. And don't worry about it affecting my trip. There's plenty of time for sight-seeing. Now, just lead the way."
A shy, appreciative grin brightened the woman's whole face. With her wide amber eyes and the slight gap between her front teeth, she looked so wholesome, so cute. The glow of pregnancy she was wreathed in only added to the cuteness of her appearance.
The house she was guided to was large and well-maintained. Sakura stepped inside as her tired guide sat down in the first available chair she spotted when they walked into the front room. "Oh, home at last." She cheered quietly.
"That was a twenty five minute walk. You said you lived right around the corner," Sakura accused lightly, setting down the packages.
Shrugging sheepishly, the woman reached into one of the small bags Sakura had allowed her to carry and rummaged around until she brought out a small package. The top was ripped open, a happy squeal leaving her as she shoved several little cookies into her mouth at once. "Well if I," she chewed, "tell myself it's right around the corner then it makes the trip seem easier. I try to look on the bright side when I can." Setting the opened box in her lap, she waved. "I'm sorry for having you bring me all the way home and then being rude. My name's Keiomi Honda."
"I'm Sakura Haruno, it's nice to meet you."
"Sakura-chan, how pretty." Keiomi gushed. Rubbing her belly, she looked down at it fondly. "I hope I can come up with something as beautiful."
Staring around at the parts of the house she could see, Sakura wondered how Keiomi had been managing all on her own, assuming she lived alone. She'd spotted stairs around the corner, and a kitchen in a place so big would be a hassle to clean all on its own, never mind anywhere else in the house.
"I know, it's a lot of house for little old me, right?" Giggling, she pointed to her stomach. "Maybe not so little anymore, but…my darling's away. He's a very successful merchant. He travels the world." She explained proudly.
"But you're so close…" Sakura winced.
"He'd be here if he was able, but he's halfway across the world, out at sea on a merchant ship right now. The waters have been stormy lately." Keiomi wrung her hands distractedly. "I get a letter every so often." Attempting a brave smile, she added, "You're right about one thing. I'm due any day now, and I know it's realistic that he may not make it home in time but, I want to have hope, you know?"
Sakura could see the clear love Keiomi had for her husband just by the shine in her eyes. Even though they were far apart, she was waiting patiently for him to return. The pinkette wasn't sure what she would do in the older woman's position, but she admired her nonetheless.
"Anyway, I've kept you this long, at least let me…" Keiomi got up with some difficulty, the cookie box falling to the ground. Sakura rushed over before she could try and pick it up, "offer you something to drink and a snack."
"It's fine, really." Sakura gave her the box back, finding the crumbs stuck to her face adorable. Keiomi just had a certain quality that made her feel like a little sister she wanted to look out for. "I bet it's been a long day for you. Get something to drink and rest."
"Well I won't say no to putting up my feet and taking a nap. This little one has been very active at night." She explained. "Do you think you'll be in Tanzaku a while?"
"Um," Sakura shrugged a little, "The plan is to relax here for a few days." At least until her wayward libido was under control.
"Great! So I might see you again?" Keiomi clasped her hands together, pouting cutely.
Sakura scratched her cheek. "S-Sure,"
Keiomi's smile grew so big, she felt the inescapable urge to blush.
After making sure Keiomi would stay put for the rest of the day, and that she was properly hydrated, Sakura resumed her journey for fun. The residential district of the city wasn't far from where she'd been, but to get back she had to pass a swath of businesses catering to adult entertainment.
Tanzaku had always been a more open place than traditional towns; residents didn't have many of the hang ups about red light districts and the like that other places did. So long as the businesses were regulated and ethical codes were adhered to, no one batted much of an eye. The barkers were out in full force, trying to usher people in off the streets.
It was too early for a stiff drink, in Sakura's opinion, so she had no interest in stopping by a tavern. She could get something to eat, seeing as it was an hour or so past lunchtime and…
"Hey there, a new face!"
It hadn't occurred she was the one being addressed until a man practically jumped into her path. Sakura tried to keep her smile polite and walk around him, but he only stopped her again. Eye twitching, she forced out a 'polite' hiss. "Excuse me…"
"Sorry, sorry, this won't take long!" He placed a hand over his heart. If she had to guess, he had to be pushing forty, dirty blonde hair slicked back underneath a bandana, an opened vest exposing his bare chest and pants stopping at his calves. He wore a multitude of rings on his fingers and a medallion dangled from his neck. It was hard to determine what color his eyes were, thanks to the shades over them. "I just couldn't help but notice your arresting beauty…"
Sakura reddened in the face, not necessarily because she was being complimented, but because she had a feeling his eyes weren't on her face. Deciding a change was in order, Sakura had visited the same seamstress who designed her battle attire and fixed the alterations Mizuchi made to the replica. The woman and her daughters were happy to make more clothes for the kunoichi who had paid them so handsomely the first time.
Sakura liked the versatility of their designs, clothes with pockets and shorter than the normal yukata but still modest enough not to draw attention. The red outfit she was wearing could be slipped on similar to the battle dresses she used to favor. It was sleeveless like the second iteration of her old dress, long in the back and cut like shorts in the front.
There was a diamond cut revealing the top of her cleavage but nothing extreme, the area from her shoulder blades to her upper back also on display thanks to the square cut. Sakura found it comfortable and modern, figuring in a forward thinking place like Tanzaku-gai it wouldn't really turn heads.
A bit of a miscalculation apparently. "It's polite to look someone in the eyes when speaking." She glowered, and he jumped back a little, having been caught.
"Please, I didn't mean to be rude. It's only...your looks are so unique. I would've noticed had I seen you before. I help recruit for this business," The man pointed upwards at the building with a pointed roof. "We offer travelers company from beautiful ladies like yourselves and—"
"I'm going to stop you right there before I get angry," Sakura held up a hand, her tone clipped. "I'm just visiting and I don't have an interest in keeping the kind of company I'm sure you're talking about."
"You'd be treated very well!" He tried, still refusing to step aside, "if you'd like to come inside and speak to the manager, perhaps we could work something out, hm?"
Sakura always hated these types. Words had no effect on them. They always thought they could offer some oily promise and a woman would change her mind. Her elbow found its mark in his abdomen, and he doubled over, going down without even a cry. There'd be an ugly bruise for days to come.
"Next time, when someone says they're not interested, they're not interested." Hand on her hip, she strutted past him, leaving him to pick himself up from the dirt.
Although the encounter was mildly irritating, it was Tanzaku-gai, where such businesses ran in broad daylight, so it wasn't surprising, and Sakura was confident in her ability to handle herself. She was willing to put it out of her mind and prioritize having a good time, but as it turned out, she had caught more than one eye.
Along the way to the restaurants, several more barkers tried to convince her that she would be a perfect fit at their exclusive clubs, paid well and treated like royalty. Every time she shot them down, growing more irate with each successive attempt.
By the time she'd stomped away from that area, Sakura thought she'd need several pitchers of water to cool down, 'Just because a girl's young, alone and makes herself look nice, it doesn't mean she's looking for that type of attention. ' she scowled. 'What's it take for them to get the picture that I'm...eh?' Passing by a sizable gambling parlor, one that must have been pretty exclusive given the guards at the entrance, Sakura thought she caught sight of someone familiar through the window. But it couldn't have been. Really, what were the odds of it being—
Creeping back, she glimpsed through the open window in time to hear a very familiar, lively laugh.
Reeling, the pinkette let out a loud gasp. "Hokage-sama?!"
Half the room turned her way, including one equally shocked Shodaime.
There were two things Hashirama always seemed to have a knack for: raising plants and playing card games. The latter was a discovery that came from general curiosity. As a boy he would sometimes stop and watch men and women in the clan placing small bets on card games. At the age of twelve, he'd meekly asked if he could try it for himself.
They agreed, partly because he had been hanging around for a while and partly because he was the clan head's son, under the condition that he not inform his parents they were imparting any such wisdom. It wasn't a hobby a kid really needed to pick up, they explained.
Nevertheless, pick it up he did. Hashirama soaked up the rules fast, faster with every new game they taught him. It wasn't long before he was playing—and winning—the majority of the time against people who had been cutting decks since his father was small. "I think we may have a serious problem on our hands, boys," one of the men he'd summarily defeated in four consecutive games remarked. "We've turned our young Lord Hashirama into an insatiable card player."
Everyone laughed, Hashirama smiling in pride.
"Seriously kid, if we were betting against you in a real game, we'd be out some serious money by now!"
It wouldn't be until the ripe age of seventeen that he got to put his skills to the test against players from outside the clan. His father and Tobirama were away on diplomatic business, he was bored and left to his own devices. After the last diplomatic trip where he had spoken out of turn (according to his father), calling the nobleman they met out on his criminally high taxes waged against the struggling civilians in his territory in order to afford to hire the Senju as mercenaries, he was left at home.
"It's not right," Hashirama had argued on the way home, sporting a quickly darkening bruise from the slap across his cheek. "He wants to hire us, but almost everyone in his territory is destitute or on the verge of poverty. Taking money from him would be taking money out of their pockets."
"That is not our concern." Butsuma snarled. "When will you get these asinine ideals out of your thick head?"
The noble had taken offense at Hashirama's outburst and retracted the offer of an exclusive contract with the Senju. It was hard to find Butsuma Senju in anything resembling a good mood at the best of times, but it had been a while since he made his father this livid.
Tobirama eyed him, as if warning him to consider his next choice of words carefully. Hashirama always appreciated his brother and all the ways he tried to cover for him when he could, but there were some things his heart never let him remain silent about. "If we don't do something then we'll never break this cycle!" He pushed back. "More generations of children are going to suffer, more adults are going to be greedy and exploitative until—"
"Do you really think that us refusing to work for him means they'll just give the fee they were going to pay back to the people?" Butsuma spat, arms crossed. "No, it'll fall into the hands of some other clan, one without a stupid, simpering clan heir who'd turn down good paying work because of morals. The Uchiha for all we know! We are shinobi, Hashirama. This is how our ancestors survived as nomads for generations."
"It doesn't have to be that way anymore," he said quietly, shoulders slumping in defeat. It didn't matter how many times they had these arguments, his father's mind never changed.
There was silence, followed by a quiet tsk of disappointment. "The blessing of the Mokuton is truly wasted on you." His father sighed. "If it wasn't for your brother, I'm sure you'd run the clan to ruin chasing your idealistic convictions after I'm gone."
So, the next time they set off to secure a contract to provide mercenary services, Butsuma took his fifteen year old son and left his eldest behind. Hashirama didn't particularly care. In fact, he'd been waiting for such an opportunity for some time.
Packing enough food, water and restocking his weapon's pouch, he set off on a day's journey to a small village at the edge of Senju territory. It didn't boast much, but it was somewhere he had been to plenty of times before with his father and brothers.
Butsuma told them the people were so hospitable because they were so grateful for the protection the clan provided, but sometimes Hashirama wondered if it was more like emotional duress.
Yes, they were 'safe' in that they never got plundered by rogues, being so close to such a powerful shinobi clan's land, but they got dragged into conflicts whenever equally strong clans like the Uchiha came to their borders waging war. Plenty of civilian lives from that village had been lost as they were caught in the crossfire.
If they turned him away, Hashirama wouldn't hold it against them. But when he traveled into town and found the gambling parlor, one of the main draws for the village economy, he was greeted just the same as any other patron. Playing against new opponents (and still winning) was exciting, and though he had come prepared to place bets, he never accepted the money from his opponents, instead forfeiting what he had wagered directly to the establishment. Of course the parlor's owner found it very….baffling, but welcomed his continued patronage from then on.
Since then he'd traveled to many parlors, but somehow never the one in Tanzaku-gai. After the eventful night of celebrating Izuna and Tobirama, the Hokage decided he needed more opportunities to relax. He was on schedule with everything. His paperwork was seen to. The village was safe. Now was the time to enjoy himself, or so he reasoned.
Finding the biggest and most exclusive parlor in town was simple, and he was waved in with respect when they learned Konoha's Hokage had chosen to do business there.
The first game he played was renju, one of his favorite board games due to the fact that whichever player picked the Black pearls was always handicapped. For this reason, Hashirama always chose the Black set, and this time was no different. His opponent thought he was simply being gracious to the fact that he was a visitor, but it was more that he liked the thrill.
There was a rush from starting at a disadvantage and still overcoming that to achieve victory. He betted modestly in the first game, not wanting to seem too cocky. It had been several years since he'd played, and for all he knew he could be handed a loss. After all, odds were against him. Due to the amount of time it'd been since he played, he won narrowly in the first match. Though by the second, it felt like some of his old instincts were returning, and Hashirama was more confident and creative in the maneuvers he pulled off. The pot had gone up at his opponent's insistence, and when he won the whole thing with some precise moves, the man's eyes almost bulged from his skull.
After renju was sugoroku, and his opponent was a nobleman's wife who was particularly talkative in regards to her three precious cats. She also had a son, she mentioned offhandedly. While she prattled on, she never lost sight of her strategy, and Hashirama had to wonder if it was a clever distraction to engage him in deep conversation.
He continued on, telling her about Bukkai, the cutest bonsai imaginable, and the way it had flourished in a relatively short time. Lady Shio was a fierce opponent, but that only pushed Hashirama's own desire to win into overdrive. By this time quite a few spectators had gathered to observe, some even abandoning their own gambling to do so. Bets were placed, a noblewoman up against a shinobi village leader proving to be a formidable matchup.
Smiling and focused, Hashirama paid them no mind. "You're very good Lady Shio."
"Thank you dear," she smiled. "The life of a noblewoman at times is ridiculously dull. I learned games to pass the time, and I do think I've gotten good at several."
"I'd agree. Your strategy is interesting. I haven't really been able to guess ahead to what you're planning this whole time," Hashirama chuckled. "That being said, I think it's my win."
"Oh," she looked down at their pieces, eyeing them from this way and that. "So it is." She parted with her money without fuss, congratulating him on winning fair and square and giving her a more interesting match than her husband's staff.
When he moved on from board games to select a card game to play, he had a small following that eagerly settled around him, and a bevy of waiting challengers. It was refreshing. People tended to get...scared off by his winning streaks. After a while they stopped wanting to play against him, no one eager to be out a tidy sum of money.
But here in Tanzaku-gai, gamblers lived for high stakes and low odds. If one of them could triumph against a consecutive winner it would only speak more to their own skills as competitive gamblers.
He was watching the dealer cut the cards for a game of ochoi-kabu when a loud gasp drew his attention to the window, a pink head and wide green eyes coming into view. "Sakura-san?" he whispered, abandoning the game immediately. No sooner had he gotten up than she ducked away from the window. Undeterred, he rushed to the front of the establishment and out the door, grateful for his stature when it stopped the kunoichi in her tracks.
"Ouch," she rubbed her sore nose, squinting up at him through one eye. "H-Hokage-sama, I didn't expect to see you here."
"Likewise!" Hashirama was grinning so widely his cheeks hurt, but he couldn't help it. "But since we're both here, why not join me?"
I don't know where to start with this chapter but I hope it was the rollercoaster of emotions I intended it to be. I think the important takeaway in that party scene (aside from all the Founders kind of shading each other and the HashiMada duo being absolutely ridiculous) is the significance of the red string. Now, if anyone is familiar with Eastern mythology or perhaps a bit of a romantic, you may have heard the concept of the "red string of fate" trope...meant to signify people are bound together by destiny, usually fated to become lovers.
Kushina tells Naruto that when Minato came to save her, she saw her hair as a red string of fate that tied them together from then on. Some people may think of those tied together by the red string as...soulmates. Kikue may have not been trying to play matchmaker (she just wanted to show her sensei a neat trick she learned), but everyone is aware of where the pairing(s) are headed as far as Sakura and the guys are concerned.
I know some of you like the idea of Jun'ichi being with Sakura too but sorry, may want to let that thought go. I think four love interests is enough for this story considering that's already a lot to contend with. I also happen to have written Jun'ichi as a character on the asexual spectrum, and while I know very well asexuals can still experience romantic attraction, Junji is intended to be a demisexual and I think he likes Sakura, but not in that way.
What else? I have talked before about the way I interpret Sakura's feelings towards her sexuality based on how it's portrayed in canon. She does have pervy thoughts from time to time, which most of us would say is normal. On the one hand she gets upset with Naruto (and herself) for falling victim to his sexy jutsu pranks. On the other hand, even as young as 12-13 she scolded Naruto for trying to pee in front of her in the Forest of Death but thought to herself that if it was Sasuke, she probably wouldn't mind. So these kinds of thoughts were already present.
That being said, I think the hang ups she'd (realistically) have about romance and liking/lusting for Sasuke (the whole reason she thought she had to kill Sasuke herself was not only to take the burden from Naruto but to 'punish' herself for continuing to like him despite everything he'd done), might just affect not only her self worth as far as what she thinks she could bring to a relationship but also things like views on masturbation as a necessary shame at times. But with Madara coming in hot, you have to wonder how it'll play out later when everyone starts turning up the heat on her. Notice he did mention consent though—I definitely don't plan to write anything where any of them coerce Sakura into things she doesn't want to do.
Even if they ask to totally wreck her, it would be with permission. ;)
And because I like making Sakura unlucky, of course she flees from one spicy situation to end up spending time with yet another love interest. I've wanted to write HashiSaku having a mini adventure for a long, long time. This is not their official arc, but I think people wanted more HashiSaku and more importantly I wanted it, so there it is. Next chapter has lots more of Hashirama and Sakura adventuring through Tanzaku-gai. HashiSaku ftw.
I am eager to know what everyone thinks about all the pulse pounding moments happening, but I advise readers not to get so swept up in them they ignore the fact that the rug could be pulled out from under everyone's feet at any time, knowing me. XD Thank you for reading—until next time!
