Dressing in her own clothes would have soothed a little of the anxious energy that radiated from her. She avoided looking in the mirror as she touched the soft kimono that had been delivered.
After waking, she craved to continue laying there in the hospital bed as if it would save her from the inevitable.
She turned to face the wall next to her bed and her eyes settled on a dark blue box resting on the table. It was like a cruel joke, as she had already known where it had come from. That particular shade of navy was reserved for the main branch of the Uchiha clan.
Now, as she lifted the soft fabric from the box, instead of pleasure, it only filled her with dread. Once upon a time, she had wished for the moment she would wear such a kimono. The moment she would be staring into the eyes of a different Uchiha, then Sasuke's stunned face from the last battle flashed before her eyes. The Uchiha fan embroidered over the heart of the delicate item in her hands stared back at her mockingly.
She exhaled a slow deep breath as the hospital gown slipped from her shoulders. She then pulled the kimono from the box, knowing the moment she donned it, her fate was sealed.
A soft knock broke the silence followed by a demure voice, "Sakura-san?"
She turned to face the door, catching a glance of the red obi still laying in the box beside the dark sandals.
"Can I come in?" Sakura almost laughed, the cruelness of the universe. The voice was gentle, she had heard it before during dinner with her teammate's family. It belonged to none other than her teammate's mother… Her future mother-in-law.
Mikoto took the lack of reply as acceptance and slowly opened the door. She met Sakura's unsure eyes, before glancing at the box on the sink.
"May I help you with the obi?" She asked, already moving towards the box. Sakura's eyes met the floor, before she nodded in assent. Mikoto stepped in and lifted the crimson obi. Sakura turned to face the wall, unable to hold the older woman's gaze.
Mikoto encircled Sakura's thin waist in the silken fabric, as she tied it tight and lifted the sandals to the floor. Sakura didn't move, holding her breath to steady herself. "I chose it," Mikoto paused, "I hope it isn't too much." Sakura slid her feet into the sandals and turned in Mikoto's direction, "Thank you, Uchiha-san."
She refused to look up. To acknowledge the way Mikoto was treating her like a fragile doll when she felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter.
"I'm here to escort you to the Uchiha Hideout," Mikoto said, extending her hand out to Sakura. Sakura stared at the outstretched hand for what felt like an eternity.
She placed her trembling hand into that of the quiet matriarch before she began the death march to the location of the sealing.
To say that it was terrifying would be putting it lightly.
The fear that seeped into her from every direction had her reflexes kicking into fight or flight mode. Every fiber of her being was screaming to her, "There is danger!" She would not allow them to take pleasure in the fact that she was mere moments from breaking down.
Mikoto cast one last silent glance at Sakura as they entered the main area, as she led her by hand into the underbelly of the beast.
Fugaku stood in the middle of the room before a pale altar that may have been ivory at one point but was marred with stains of undeniable origin. She could only imagine the pain that had occurred here, the screams still echoed in the walls that surrounded her. Those same walls felt like they were pressing in, she was suffocating from the claustrophobic feeling that she was trapped.
Sakura swallowed the urge to scream, to cry, to thrash and fight her way back out to the surface, but she would not give them that. She had already sensed the surrounding watchers, knowing that the elders had insisted upon being present. White candles made a wide circle around the altar, only barely staving off the all-encompassing darkness that she was growing to fear.
Mikoto gently removed her hand from Sakura's as Fugaku extended his hand, dark eyes menacing in the flickering light. He was the Devil and this was her gateway to Hell.
She straightened her shoulders and proudly lifted her head, taking confident steps towards the altar. She made sure her shoulder hit Fugaku's as she brushed past him, stepping up to the altar.
She would not meet his eye, nor the elders, they would not see her cry. They did not deserve it.
Sakura took a seat upon the altar, facing away from Fugaku. Mikoto stepped up behind her, assisting her in loosening the top of the kimono. She brushed Sakura's long pink hair over her right shoulder, gently pulling the fabric of the kimono aside to expose the back of her left shoulder.
Sakura's nails bit into the flesh of her palm. She would not give them this, she didn't ask for any of this. She did this to protect him. Those who break the rules are scum, but those who abandon their friends are worse than scum. She repeated the phrase like a mantra, the only thing to cling to. The sound of a scroll unraveling behind her fading away.
Nothing would have been able to prepare her.
She tried not to think of the words "burning", "searing", or "flesh." She tried not to think of the excruciating pain. She tried to grit her teeth and bear it, but it was too much.
The elders watched silently as the dark tendrils crawled like vines, snaking their way from the scroll Fugaku unrolled. The black swirls crawled up Sakura's back, leaving white-hot pain in their wake. Desensitized faces allow her screams to leave them unaffected.
The swirls culminated on the exposed back of her shoulder, spiraling into themselves. Mikoto unraveled an aged scroll she had retrieved from the end of the altar and laid it across Sakura's lap. She pried open Sakura's locked hand before placing her bleeding palm onto the paper, next to many other crimson prints. Sakura locked eyes with Mikoto as her Sharingan activated and began to spin.
Nothing would ever compare to the pain. There had never been a moment in Sakura's life that had left her so tormented. The rush of agony caused her body to shut down and she prayed to whatever god allowed her some semblance of relief. She collapsed into Mikoto's waiting arms, as Mikoto knew she would. The older woman began stroking her soft pink hair before whispering, "This will only make you stronger." Even she did not know if this was a promise or a threat. As the candles were snuffed out around the sacrificial altar, a perfect Uchiha fan appeared on the back of Sakura's shoulder.
The first time her eyes fluttered open, her entire body felt like it had been dragged over coals. Her chakra began flowing through her body, trying desperately to heal the ache. This wasn't her home, this wasn't her room, this wasn't her bed. She turned to the side and placed on the floor next to her was a cold cup of hibiscus tea. She struggled to sit up, fingers brushing against the side of the delicate cup.
She drank it greedily, anything to quench the ache in her throat. After that she laid back, head still spinning despite the healing her body had so kindly kicked into the process of.
The moment she closed her eyes, the darkness consumed her again.
The second time she awoke, she felt weak, but felt better. Her body had been cycling chakra through to heal any wounds while she slept. Which left her chakra levels not nearly as full as she hoped. The smell of hibiscus tea was there again. She turned to see the cup from before, this time steam drifted lazily from the top.
Her body registered his presence the same way prey recognizes a predator. She instinctively stiffened before looking up to meet the dark watching eyes.
He sat so still, so straight. He then sipped from a cup that resembled the one next to her, regarding her with expressionless eyes. His entire being screamed "Apex Predator," and he had been watching her for who knows how long. Her throat went dry as she began to tremble.
The corner of his mouth turned down for a fraction of a second before he carefully schooled it back into a blank face. "Drink," he commanded, eyes never leaving her.
She glanced back down at the cup, then back to him.
He exhaled the breath he had been unintentionally holding, "My mother will bring you dinner soon."
Sakura just watched him, trying to take in her first real interaction with her soon-to-be husband.
"Tomorrow we will begin your training," was the last thing he said before he disappeared.
All that was behind was an empty, now cracked teacup.