A/N: Content warning: Graphic depictions of violence.
Madara watched as the Fuma patrolling the grounds made another pass around the old building that the enemy MC currently occupied. The man failed to notice the Uchiha hidden away in the oppressive darkness and the thick tree line beyond the building.
The dark haired male spotted three more Fuma out front of the building smoking cigarettes and chatting among themselves, unaware of the fact they were cornered.
Madara's eyes flicked over to one of the windows of the old, derelict municipal building left over from before Konoha expanded. Although the windows were closed off by thick curtains, he still spotted a hint of movement inside.
He glanced back towards where he knew Sasuke, who was acting as spotter, lingered. This time, he was finally greeted with the signal he had been waiting for for the past thirty minutes: a rapid flashing of a flashlight.
The sign that meant that the Senju were finally driving down the dirt road that lead to this Fuma safe house. The sign that meant Madara only had a minute to accomplish what he needed to do.
Madara used his own flashlight to signal back to Sasuke that the message had been received. The elder Uchiha patiently waited until the patrolling Fuma, armed with a shotgun, rounded around the edge of the building. The Uchiha quietly drew the serrated knife he had stowed away in the sheath on his belt and emerged from the darkness. Moving on silent feet, he approached the man from behind.
The Uchiha grabbed the man by the forehead, dragging his head back so he could sink his blade deep into the man's neck. Before the man could cry out and alert his companions, the point of Madara's knife breached the barrier of skin with a muted pop, severing his windpipe and tearing through the vital artery and vein in his throat.
The Fuma releasing a desperate, strained gasp as his hands shot to his neck in shock. The enemy biker fought against the unyielding hands around his throat as Madara removed the blade with a long squelching noise.
The Uchiha covered the Fuma's mouth with his free hand, muffling the gurgles and coughs as the man uselessly tried to cover his mortal wound. Breaths of air that should have entered and exited through his mouth and nose made a sickening frothy noise as they forced their way through his wound.
In a final moment of understanding and in one desperate attempt at either gaining his revenge or warning his comrades, the stranger reached for the shotgun hanging uselessly from his shoulders. Madara dropped his knife, the blade's fall muffled by the grass below their feet, as he quickly covered the trigger to the Fuma's weapon. The man's hands, soaked in blood, slipped across the leather of the Uchiha's gloves, his grip too weak and his skin too slick to fight him for his own weapon.
When the man wobbled precariously on his feet, the Uchiha dragging him backwards so he could lower him to the ground silently. The man trembled, his hands finally falling to his sides uselessly as he lost consciousness. Blood continued to pour from the wound in his neck as his heart continued to pump uselessly, the flow growing more sluggish with each passing second.
Madara released the dying man once he released his final breath, laying him flat against the ground as he divested him of his weapon. The Uchiha recovered his blade from the grass, wiping it and his blood soaked gloves off on the dying man's shirt.
Only fifteen seconds left.
The Uchiha stood, returning his knife to its sheath and glancing around once before waving to the darkness he had abandoned. Three figures emerged from the shadows, silently making their way to Madara's side.
Itachi, Shisui, and Izumi lined up along the side of the wall, weapons drawn and silencers screwed onto the ends of their barrels. Madara noticed a peculiar sway to the eldest of the trio's steps but ignored it for the moment, too focused on the impending ambush. There was no room for distractions if he wanted his family to make it out of here alive.
He deposited the stolen shotgun into the hands of Izumi who accepted it with a nod. She stashed it across her shoulders, preferring the use of her single handgun. At least now, if she somehow ran out of ammo, she would have yet another backup.
Madara gestured to Itachi who nodded silently in response, stashing his pistol to instead remove a lock pick set from his pocket. He silently tested the back door that the dead Fuma laid in front of before kneeling next to the locked door and beginning his work.
Madara peered out from the edge of the building, noting that the three Fuma out front were still unaware of their invaders or the murder of their companion. He held a staying hand to the trio behind him, signaling that it was not yet time.
He waited patiently, watching from the darkness, as two vans pulled up in the dirt lot in front of the Fuma safe house. He watched as the occupants of the vans emptied out at the same time that more Fuma emerged from the front of the building. He easily recognized the crest of the Senju MC printed on the back of the newcomers' cuts.
Waiting until the Senju and the Fuma began their conversation, he silently signaled for Itachi, Shisui, and Izumi to breach the building. The only thing that enforced that his order had been followed was the near silent click of the door shutting after the three entered.
"And right on time, as always. You Senju boys really know how to run a tight ship," one of the Fuma, a burly man with five o'clock shadow, stated with a grin.
"And girls, thank you," a woman, one of the Senju MC, hissed as she approached with the others of her club.
"My apologies, boys and girls. No offense to the fairer sex."
"Ha! If only you knew what a monster she was," another Senju, this one a man, chortled.
"Quiet, you useless ass. We're here for business, not to stand around chatting," the woman growled, folding her arms across her chest.
"Like the lady says… So, did you bring us anything interesting this time around in addition to the usual?"
"You know us too well. We got in a new shipment of-"
Pop! Pop!
Madara, and every Senju and Fuma out front, whipped around to face the Fuma safe house. The source of the two, notable unsilenced, gunshots.
"What the fuck was that?" the Senju woman from before growled, already pulling her pistol from her waistband.
Madara grimaced, signaling Obito who lingered with the rest of their strike force in the surrounding woods. He drew the M16 from his back as the muted pops of silenced gunfire suddenly filled the air. The sound of bodies collapsing onto the dirt was quickly followed by the sounds of shouting and regular gunfire.
Madara stepped out from the side of the building, rifle raised. Using the distraction from the rest of his MC's sneak attack, and using a neat stack of metal barrels as cover, he zeroed in on his first target. The rifle in his arms had little kick as he used a controlled burst to dispose of a distracted member of the Senju MC.
With adrenaline pumping through his veins and absolute focus honing his senses, time slowed down around him. The Senju fell to his knees in slow motion as Madara's attention snapped to his next target: another Senju who was raising his handgun to fire upon him.
The stranger pulled off a round right before taking two bullets to the throat and head and dropping lifelessly to the ground. Madara not only heard but felt as the bullet flew past his head, making his ears ring. Unphased, the Uchiha's eyes snapped across the battlefield, evaluating the fight at lightning speeds.
He spotted his club mates emerging from the darkness, the line of Uchiha easily overwhelming the remaining Fuma and Senju. Careful to avoid his clan mates, Madara pulled off one final controlled burst to end the life of a Fuma who tried to raise his gun to fire upon the advancing line of Uchiha.
One solitary Fuma remained, slowly emerging from his hiding place behind a wall of concrete blocks. He held his hands up in surrender, dropping his pistol on the ground as he took a few shaky steps forward.
"Please, just let me live! I won't say anything, I promise, I-" the man began to beg before being cut off by Obito who raised his rifle one final time.
"Of course you won't," Obito stated matter of factly before firing one single round which shot through the Fuma's cheek.
The man fell to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Obito lowered his rifle, his gaze scanning across the field with a predatory look in his one eye.
The rest of the Uchiha converged in a loose circle in front of the building, stepping over the corpses forming neat pools of blood on the ground. Madara's eyes snapped over all of his family members, noting how none of them appeared to have taken any injuries. His gaze lingered on Sasuke, not failing to notice how the young prospect trembled as he stared down at the man Obito had just killed.
Madara's attention diverted to Izuna when his brother scoffed loudly.
"We could have taken him to get more information, you know," Izuna berated as slung his rifle over his shoulder, "You were being too hasty."
"Like this pathetic excuse for a warrior could have given us anything of merit. He would have said anything to save his sorry skin," Obito argued, returning the vice president's glare with one of his own.
"Precisely the point, you idiot."
"Enough," Madara declared in an even tone, immediately putting an end to their bickering, "Izuna, start gathering up the goods. Since they were so kind, we'll borrow the vans not filled with bullet holes for now. And make sure there aren't any Senju hiding in the vehicles. Sasuke. Go with him."
"Whatever you say, brother. Inabi, Yashiro, Tekka, let's go," Izuna replied, waving to the three men who nodded in return.
Sasuke said nothing as he followed his younger uncle. Madara felt a tugging in his chest when he noticed that Sasuke's hands held his gun so tightly that his knuckles were white. His nephew's trembling made him feel sick to his stomach and he briefly wondered if his own father felt this sense of self-abhorrence when Madara or any of his brothers had seen their first battlefield.
He wondered what Sakura would think if she saw this.
Unable to afford the distraction of conflicted feelings at that moment, he mentally shook himself to return to his current situation.
"Obito. You, Naori, and Naka go through and make sure all these bastards are dead... And take their cuts while you're at it," Madara continued, his eyes scanning the field for any sign of movement.
"Not a problem at all," Obito stated, ignoring his rifle in favor of drawing the buck knife from his boot, "We could use some more trophies."
"And try not to make too big of a fucking mess," Madara growled, scowling at his bloodthirsty cousin.
"No promises," the sergeant at arms grumbled in response, already advancing on a Senju who was still drawing in desperate, gurgling gasps of air despite being unable to move.
Madara sighed before turning to look towards the building that he had sent Itachi, Shisui, and Izumi into earlier.
"Kagami, you're with me. We'll go check on the trio. One of them screwed up and someone was able to pull off a round before the time was right…" he stated before muttering under his breath, "And I have a feeling I know who…"
"You got it, prez," the young Uchiha replied, stowing his own rifle in exchange for a much more maneuverable pistol.
"Alright. Let's finish this up."
Normally, the feeling of the freezing wind against his face and the sensation of speed would feel like a balm. A cold ointment on a fresh burn. A calm to the storm in his heart.
As Madara rode now, the once comforting sensations felt more like a punishment. The wind was biting, like pins digging into his burning skin, and the speed brought with it none of the pleasure it normally did.
The city around him was nearly unoccupied at this early morning hour, well before the rising of the sun but far past it's setting. Last call at the bars had ended hours ago and the only people who still lingered on the streets were far from interested in him flying by on his bike.
Madara found himself expressing the same disinterest, taking the same roads he had always taken to reach his home. The streetlights and neon store signs were a blur as he flew down the darkened roads, the locations unimportant as he made his way to his destination. He was far too distracted by the events that had taken place not even a few hours previous to care about his surroundings past avoiding any stray Senju and the police.
Madara felt that he should be happy with the outcome of this battle.
The Uchiha's ambush on the Senju MC and the Fuma MC had gone spectacularly well. None had any inkling that the Uchiha's had known of this deal and their lack of paranoia had lead to his family's overwhelmingly decisive victory.
Even more than that, no one in his family had died or taken any serious injuries.
Shisui had taken a bullet in the calf but, luckily, the round had gone straight through and hadn't hit anything vital. The dumbass had shown up to the battle buzzed and had been the one to botch the assault. He had tried to ambush one of the Fuma inside but his attack had missed it's mark and had allowed the Fuma the opportunity to pull off two rounds.
Madara would kick his young cousin's ass for his lack of even half a brain but figured that actually getting shot would do the trick just fine.
It was a good thing that the bullet had gone straight through as Itachi had been able to patch Shisui up just fine. Any injuries sustained during melees such as these could only be tended to by their own. None of them could go to the hospital since the hospital workers were obligated to report any gunshot wounds or similar violent injuries to the police.
The police would catch wind of this massacre soon enough, at least if the Senju didn't show up and clean up first, and the pigs would easily connect the dots if any of the Uchiha had been stupid enough to go to the hospital. If Shisui had needed to go to the hospital, the best case scenario would be him taking the fall for the murder of nearly two dozen people. Worst case, the entire mother chapter of the Uchiha MC could be sent to prison.
Everyone in the club knew that none of them could go to the hospital for any injuries resulting from battle and gladly accepted their fates. They would rather die with the comfort of their brothers and sisters following a battle than have the ones they loved rot in prison for the rest of their lives.
Even so, and even though Madara was furious with Shisui for more reasons than one, he was incredibly grateful that the younger Uchiha hadn't been seriously injured.
An outcome that Madara should have been more satisfied with, along with the outcome of the battle itself.
Two dozen of their enemies, Senju and Fuma alike, now laid dead thanks to their efforts. The goods that once belonged to their foes, an incredibly hefty supply of ammunition and a variety of military grade assault rifles, now took up space in one of the numerous Uchiha storage bases. Guns and ammo that would now work for the Uchiha MC instead of against it.
The corpses of the Senju and Fuma, stripped of their pride, remained littered around the site where the botched deal had taken place as a warning to the Senju MC: That if they attacked the Uchiha MC, they would be returned the same damage tenfold.
Madara would have the stolen cuts dropped off at the gates of the Senju and the Fuma MC with the Uchiha MC crest printed on the box. Not only would this action serve as an even clearer warning to both of the clubs but it would prevent an even harsher retaliation in the future if the Senju or the Fuma decided to take back the cuts of their dead so they could bury the fallen with their pride.
Madara should have been happy but no matter what he tried to say to console himself, he knew that this battle would only lead to even more bloodshed in the future. He remained distracted, too caught up in his thoughts to bask in a victory that would have once felt less hollow.
He was almost surprised when he pulled to a stop not outside of his own home but on the curb of the sidewalk outside of Sakura's apartment.
He gazed up at the darkened window that he knew was hers, every fiber of his being begging him to head back up to her home and get out of this freezing night air. To crawl into her warm bed and wrap himself around his lover's small, soft body. To bask in her calming scent and her affection. To forget any of this had happened that night and to forget about what was inevitably going to come to pass because of it.
Madara sighed as he glanced down at his shirt. Even in the darkness, the nearby street lamp cast just enough light on him for his eyes to pick up the dark splotches of blood on his shirt and the reddish stains on his wrists where his gloves hadn't covered him. Not only that, but he could still feel the grittiness of dirt and burnt gunpowder on his hands and in between his teeth.
He couldn't let her see him like this. He couldn't expose her to this part of his life…
A sense of hollowness overcame him as he twisted the throttle on his bike and left her apartment complex, instead heading towards his own home. His dark, cold, and empty house.
A house that didn't feel any lighter when he burned his blood splattered clothes in the fire pit out back. A home that didn't feel any warmer when he took a scalding hot shower and watched as the blood and grit swirled down the drain. And a building that only felt that much more empty when he crawled into a cold bed where he was unable to fall asleep...
Madara leaned back against the soft cloth couch, his burning eyes slowly shutting as he stretched out. A pair of delicate hands smoothed across his arm, soft fingertips running across his skin.
No matter what he had done when he had gotten home, he couldn't fall asleep. The events of that night continued to play on repeat in his tired mind, not allowing him to get any rest despite the exhaustion dominating his body.
Needing something to distract himself with, he had left his house in the wee hours of the morning and gone to visit the woman whose couch he now laid across.
Madara felt his phone vibrate in the pocket of his cut, the feeling that much more distinct since he didn't wear a shirt beneath the leather. He fished out his phone and cracked open his eyes to tap in his pass code.
Gazing down at the message, he felt his heart drop down into his stomach.
'Hey, where'd you go last night? I was worried when I woke up alone'
Madara felt shame well within him as he stared down at the message from Sakura. A sense of discomfort that only magnified as he formulated his lie.
'There was a problem at the clubhouse that needed my attention but nothing to worry about. I'm sorry I left but you looked too cute snoring with your mouth open to wake up'
'I do not snore! Least of all with my mouth open!'
A halfhearted smile quirked up the corner of his lip as Madara imagined Sakura's furious face. She was so beautiful when she was angry...
'I believe I would know, having actually seen you asleep. You must have really needed the rest, with all your studying…'
'I do not snore, you jerk. And stop changing the subject! You know you could have woken me up'
"Is that that girl you've been seeing?" a feminine voice asked from beside him.
"Yes, it's Sakura," he replied simply.
"Hmm…" the woman hummed in response, her fingertips dragging down his arm.
'I'm sorry, hellcat. I'll make it up to you tonight. How does curry and a pirated copy of the new action flick that came out sound?'
'Maybe I can forgive you… Even though you're such an outlaw, pirating movies'
Sakura's words felt like a punch in the stomach. She teased him, saying he was an outlaw, but if she knew the truth… If she knew he had killed three men that night…
She would never forgive him.
'I'll see you tonight. Have a good day at work'
'I can't wait. I love you'
'And I love you'
Madara tucked his phone back into his pocket with a sigh, finally giving the woman next to him his full attention once again.
"All done, dear," the woman stated, gazing down at her work with a smile.
Madara's eyes drifted down from the gray haired woman sitting beside him to the three brand new, crisply tattooed bands around his bicep. As always, the rings were perfectly symmetrical, matching the others flawlessly.
"Thank you, Aunt Uruchi. They look as precise as ever," he complimented sincerely, twisting his arm to get a good look at the new rings adding to his tally.
"You're very welcome," the elderly tattoo artist replied with a warm smile as she used a wet cloth to gently clean his newest tattoos.
As Uruchi went about cleaning up her tattooing supplies from the coffee table in her living room, Madara shucked off his cut just long enough to pull his long sleeve shirt back over his head. He pulled his cut back onto his shoulders, the weight of his phone in his pocket bringing with it the same shame from before. He sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose before fishing out his wallet from the opposite side.
"Same as usual?" he asked, already counting out the cash he needed to pay his aunt.
"Same as usual," she replied, accepting the bills from her nephew and setting them on her coffee table.
Before Madara could stand to leave, Uruchi spoke once again, "But before you leave…"
"What is it?" he prompted respectfully, sitting back down on the edge of the couch.
"Now, I've told you this a dozen times and I'll tell you a thousand times more… You be careful out there. And you do good by our family," she instructed in a firm voice as she finally removed her gloves with a snap and dropped them into the trash with the rest of her used supplies.
"Of course. I promise that I am. And I will, as I always do," Madara promised sincerely.
Uruchi patted her nephew on the cheek with a warm, almost motherly smile.
"Good. And one last thing."
"Yes?"
"You need to hurry up and marry that sweet pink haired girl before she runs off!" she instructed, laughing when Madara grinned and shook his head, "Women like her only show up once in a lifetime, especially for people in a family like ours. Don't waste your chance while she's here with you now."
"I'm trying," he replied honestly, his hand reaching up to rub the spot where he knew his new rings were now inked into his skin.
Uruchi frowned as she took in her nephew's troubled expression. When she set a gentle hand on Madara's knee, he met her gaze once again.
"You're a good man, Madara. You're only doing your best to keep us all safe. You're the best president we've ever had, at least in my lifetime," she started, drawing a surprised look from the younger Uchiha.
"Aunt-" he started.
"Hush now, sweet boy, I'm not done. Now, if she loves you, if she truly loves you… Then she will be able to see you for who you are and not just what you do."
"I…" he paused for a long moment, feeling overwhelmed by his aunt's wise words, "Thank you… I hope she will."
Uruchi smiled warmly, patting Madara on the knee before finishing cleaning up her supplies.
The maelstrom in Madara's mind had yet to calm when he finally found himself in front of Sakura's door that afternoon, a bag of curry from a restaurant downtown hanging from one hand and his other raised to knock on her door.
The weight of his actions late that previous night weighed heavily on his shoulders. The lives he had taken in cold blood and the dull burn on the new ink in his skin. The sight of Sasuke's trembling as his nephew stared down at the corpses littered at their feet. The thought of what Sakura's reaction would have been if she saw him sink his knife into that man's throat.
Madara lived for the fight. Ever since his first brawl as a young boy, he loved the thrill of a fight. He dedicated a portion of his life to pursuing the martial arts and the excitement never dimmed even after decades of battles. Even the first brawls he had taken part in as a member of the club had felt like fire in his blood. The sights, the sounds, even the taste of his own blood was exhilarating.
His favorite past time first lost a bit of its luster, however, when he first beat a Senju to death with his bare hands. The thrill of the fight began to lose its remorseless excitement when he began to leave bodies in his wake.
Madara found that taking lives left him with a deep sense of bone chilling dread. He could never shake the feeling that whatever lives he took would one day be taken back from him in the form of the lives of those he loved.
And he had yet to be wrong. Each band tattooed around his arms could be tied not only to the life of a foe but to the life of one of his own family members.
The wild haired man had always been able to put aside what he felt in order to do what he needed to protect his family - even if it felt as if every thing he did to protect those he loved just afforded them more graves in the clan plot - but now, when he thought of what the woman he loved would think, the sense of dread and incredible wrongness was unable to be abated.
Madara's thoughts tumbled mercilessly in his mind, a riotous mess of duty, hopelessness, and self deprecation, as he knocked on Sakura's front door. He closed his eyes for a long moment, trying to soothe his burning eyes, before he took a steeling breath. He hoped that he could hide his discontent even if he couldn't hide the deepening bags beneath his eyes.
His gaze snapped up to meet the eyes of his lover as she opened the door. As she greeted him with the love struck smile she saved only for him, he felt as his mind became suddenly and blissfully silent. All of the dark thoughts, the fears and the guilt and the hopelessness that had been plaguing him, washed away as if taken by a tide.
As Madara returned her smile, he finally relaxed, releasing a tension in his shoulders that he hadn't even realized he had been holding.
Just being in Sakura's presence for only a few moments had been the only thing that had brought him any comfort after a night filled with violence and death. His home, which had felt dark, cold, and empty, held nothing to the warmth he felt when he was with her.
Finally being with her again, finally gazing into her emerald eyes again, felt like coming home.
"Hey," Sakura greeted sweetly, snapping him out of his stupor.
"Hello, my hellcat," Madara purred as he stepped inside, dropping the bag of food on the inside of her door, immediately forgotten.
He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up as he pulled her into an embrace. She laughed aloud, her giggles sounding like music to his ears, as her toned legs wrapped around his waist and her arms around his neck. He couldn't wipe the smile from his face as he gazed up at the woman he loved, so overwhelmed by the sudden feeling of weightlessness and peace.
Sakura dropped her forehead against his, a wide smile stretched across her lips. Her dainty fingers threaded into hair, his eyes sliding halfway shut in satisfaction. When their lips finally met in a tender kiss, his entire world narrowed until only she occupied his thoughts and attention.
A place where he decided he desperately needed to show her how much he loved her.
Madara wanted, needed, to be close to her. To bask in the warmth of her body, the softness of her skin, the scent of her hair. He wanted to make her feel as good as she made him feel.
He wanted to feel warm after a day of feeling nothing but cold.
Sakura could sense the sudden need in his kisses and didn't shy away from it, instead returning his increasingly insistent kisses with her own. Their greeting kiss rapidly escalated into something more, their lips moving against each others' passionately. When he stepped forward to carry her to her couch, she had already kicked shut her front door.
He gently laid her down against the couch, his arms caging her against the cushions as her hands threaded into his hair. He fought against his immediate desire to just push aside her shorts and panties and take her. He wanted this to be more than just finding pleasure in one another, he wanted to show her how much he loved her. How much she meant to him, how incredibly lucky he felt having her… how much he would miss her when she left.
When the Uchiha ran his tongue across her lips, the small whimper that escaped her made him want to growl and bite. To sink his teeth into her neck and pull a bruise to the surface of her soft skin. To leave another mark on her, claiming her as his own for as long as he could.
Instead, his large palm reached up to cradle the side of her face, his thumb sweeping across her chin to open her mouth. Her short fingernails dragged down the nape of his neck as he pressed his tongue between her lips, her own greeting his.
Sakura's thighs tightened around his waist, pulling him closer to her center and unintentionally digging his handgun into his lower back. The sudden reminder felt like a blast of freezing water and sent a chill through his body.
Before Madara could think further on the night before, the hopelessness he felt when he thought of how to end this pointless war and the fear of losing more of his loved ones in the future, he broke their kiss to pull away from her and sink down between her thighs.
Sakura gazed down at him with half lidded eyes, confused, as she tried to catch her breath. His broad hands slid up her thighs and beneath her shirt to settle on the dip of her waist, pushing up the hem of her top as he went. He pressed his face against the warm skin of her soft belly, taking a deep breath to ground himself to her once again.
When he began to press lingering kisses to her stomach, his lover sighed in satisfaction and arched against him. The feeling of her powerful muscles moving beneath the skin under his hands as she arched brought him entirely back to her.
Madara's kisses spanned from hip bone to hip bone, his lips lingering on Sakura's lower stomach as selfish fantasies refused to be ignored.
As he slowly dragged her top upwards, he meticulously pressed gentle kisses to every inch of revealed skin. Her soft, breathless moans and her fingertips brushing his ebony bangs from his face had him focused on nothing but her.
When he revealed her breasts, his hands sliding over her soft mounds, he was thrilled that his lover rarely wore a bra. He could immediately wrap his lips around one of her rosy nipples, his tongue running across its peak. Her moan was heated as he teased her sensitive bud, her blunt fingernails dragging across the skin of his scalp.
Madara groaned against her breast, sucking on her nipple and running his tongue across the delicate nub once more before repeating the same attention on the other. Sakura arched against him, desperate to get some friction against her needy core, as he slowly stoked her arousal.
When he pushed up her top that much farther, she grabbed the hem and pulled it the rest of the way off. When she stretched far behind her to drop the unimportant piece of cloth onto the floor, he sunk down to nuzzle the taut skin of her stomach. She sighed in bliss as he brushed his lips across the tender skin of her stretching body, his ebony hair tickling her skin as he went.
The Uchiha's hands slid down her sides, marveling at the softness of her skin, until reaching her shorts. His fingertips teased the skin beneath the waistband of her shorts as his lips continued to tease her soft stomach. He continued his reverent treatment of her as he slowly pulled down her shorts, his lover lifting her hips to help him.
Instead of pressing his teeth into her tender skin, instead of escalating into a baser excitement, Madara's affections were nothing but tender passion. Gentle, exploring hands meticulously stroked and cradled her soft body. His hair brushed across her skin as he mapped her body with his mouth.
It was a tenderness that continued to draw soft cries and whimpers from his lover. When his fingertips finally hooked around the hem of her panties, he could already smell Sakura's heady arousal, sending a rush of blood to his painfully straining length.
Madara sat up to remove her shorts and panties from her toned legs, soon returning to the space at her center. He pressed worshiping kisses to the delicate skin of the inside of her thighs, the scent of her arousal making his head spin.
It took a moment for Madara to become aware of Sakura's small hands tugging at the leather of his cut. He immediately obeyed her silent request, abandoning the strip of leather over the back of her couch. For once in his life, he was glad to have the weight of it off of his back if it meant he could feel her hands against his skin.
Sakura pulled him back down by his shirt to meet her, pressing their lips together once more. Her small hands smoothed down his chest and slipped underneath his shirt. Her lips and tongue passionately moving against his and her hands tenderly roaming across the planes of muscle of his chest felt like devotion.
He reached up to grab the nape of his shirt, breaking their kiss just long enough to pull his shirt off. Their lips immediately returned to each others', neither willing to spend a moment longer than needed separated from each other.
Madara's hand sunk between their bodies to find her core, his fingertips pressing between her delicate folds. He groaned deep in his throat when he felt how wet she was, her feminine passage nearly dripping with her arousal. He pressed one of his long fingers into her channel, his digit easily sliding deep within her. She sighed against his lips, her hands grasping his shoulders as she arched into his hand.
He added a second finger into her soaking passage, both fingers easily sliding in and out of her. He ground his palm against her clit, his lover dropping her head back against the cushions to gasp for breath. He took advantage of her exposed throat and pressed his lips to the tender flesh.
"Dara, please…" Sakura whimpered as he teased her clit.
Madara pressed one last open mouth kiss to her throat before sitting up to rapidly unbuckle and unzip his jeans. His painfully hard member bounced free from the confines of his pants as he tugged down his jeans.
Sakura reached between her thighs to wrap her soft hand around his length. He sucked in a breath and bucked into her hands as she began to pump his already weeping member. Her fingers tightened around his length, teasing the head of his swollen length. Her thumb swept across the tip of his cock, smearing the bead of precum there, and sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine.
He toed off his boots and dropped his jeans, handgun and all, onto the floor behind him. Grasping her muscled thighs in his broad hands, he easily lifted her and hooked her knees around his shoulders. She continued to massage the head of his member as she pressed her sopping folds against the base of his cock. His lover moaned aloud when he ground his hardness against her clit, her arousal slicking the underside of his length.
Madara pulled back to position the head of his member against Sakura's opening. He slowly sunk deep within her welcoming passage, relishing the feeling of her soaking channel greedily accepted each thick inch of his hard member. Her mouth fell open in a silent cry, her hands desperately grasping his thighs as he filled her to the brim.
He groaned as he fully hilted himself within her, his hips flush against hers and the tip of his member pressing against her inner barrier. When he finally began to move, sinking in and out of her tight, hot passage, she released pleasured gasps that made his length twitch within her.
Madara's hand sunk down between her thighs to rub circles around her clit with his thumb. Sakura moaned desperately as his thumb pressed against her most sensitive nub, her hips bucking against his and her thighs tightening around his shoulders.
He wanted to sink his cock into her deeply and roughly, to succumb to the impossible and animalistic desire to try to breach her innermost barrier and fuck her deeper than anyone ever had, to fill her deepest and most feminine place with his seed.
Instead of pounding into her, the Uchiha maintained his gentle and passionate thrusts. His thumb continued to rub circles around her swollen clit as he grasped her toned thigh in his large hand. As he filled her over and over, he pressed lingering kisses to the inside of her knee hooked over his shoulder.
This was the most gentle and passionate they had ever had sex. He didn't want to fuck her, he wanted to make love to her. Wanted to show her how much he loved her with his body.
"Ahh, Dara… this-this, ah..." Sakura cried out breathlessly, meeting his gentle thrusts with her own.
"Tell me, love…" Madara purred against her thigh, gazing down at her heatedly.
"You feel so good, oh gods… I'm not, I..." she whimpered, her hands desperately grasping at his thighs.
He could feel her orgasm building around his penetrating cock, her walls tightening around him as if to pull him even farther within her passage.
"You have no idea what you do to me..." he groaned against her skin, referring not just to her power over him with her body but what she made him feel. How she had effortlessly distracted him from the darkness of his life.
Madara's thumb increased its pace circling Sakura's clit although his thrusts into her did not waver. She came with a broken moan, her fingers desperately grasping to his thighs and arm for balance in the face of her pleasure. Her inner walls rhythmically squeezed around his hardness, her passage nearly gushing around his length.
He groaned deep in his throat as he felt her orgasm, knowing that if he just fucked her hard for a few moments that he could easily cum within her sopping channel. Instead, he continued to drag out her orgasm, his thumb slowing but not stopping as he pleasured her nub.
When Sakura's walls stopped clenching around his member, signaling the end of her first orgasm, Madara pulled his legs off of his shoulders. He wanted to be even closer to her, to feel more of her soft skin, to feel her hands against his body, to taste her lips again.
Her legs wrapped around his hips, allowing him deeper passage within her folds, as he pressed lingering kisses to her throat. His hips rolled against hers, pressing against her clit with each thrust he filled her with.
"Dara…" Sakura keened, the desperation in her voice drawing him back up to her.
When their lips met again, it was nothing but passion. Lips and tongues moving against each other so lovingly, bodies and hands sliding against one another so perfectly, that Madara knew he would never stop loving this woman. He would remember this moment with her until the day he died.
His lover's next orgasm was a slow build and washed over her from head to toe. Her thighs tightened around his waist and her fingers buried into his hair as she came, her lips not stopping in their movement against his even as her body trembled under the force of her pleasure.
Madara finally followed her, overcome by the passion behind the Sakura's affections. He sunk into her as deeply as he could twice, feeling as his own finish built in his belly, before burying himself within her. He kissed her desperately as he finished deep inside of her, his straining member filling her with bursts of his seed as his hips rocked against hers.
Even as the pleasure from both of their finishes slowly waned away, and even as his length slowly softened within her, he didn't stop kissing her.
Madara wanted to enjoy this moment, to live in the moment, as much as he could. He wanted to absorb as much of this as he could, to ingrain memories of Sakura's love, in his mind forever. He never wanted to forget moments like these, moments where he got to bask in her love and her warmth.
He only had so long with her and wanted to be able to remember the time he had with her until the day he died.
"Did I do something special?" Sakura asked breathlessly in between kisses, a sated smile stretched across her lips.
"Giving an old biker like me a chance," Madara answered honestly, kissing her sweetly once again.
She smiled against his lips and, when he finally pulled away, she hummed, "You're so much more than that."
He smiled widely, pressing his forehead against hers as he gazed into the eyes of the woman he loved.
Later that night, after the lovers' finally ate the food Madara had abandoned at her door when he first arrived and after they had changed into their pajamas, they laid together on her couch, wrapped up in each others' arms. A blanket was loosely thrown over them, covering them both and creating a warm space they shared.
His arms were wrapped around Sakura's waist, his check pressed to her breast as she nuzzled the top of his head. Her arms were looped around his neck, her fingers gently combing through his wild hair.
The action flick he had gotten from Kagami played in the background, neither of them paying it any mind as they cuddled. It was still early, the sun having just set, but he could feel himself drifting off to the comforting feeling of the Sakura's fingers carding through his hair and the soothing thrum of her beating heart.
Before he drifted off completely, Madara muttered, "I love you."
Sakura brushed his hair to the side to whisper in his ear, "I love you."
Smiling sleepily, he finally drifted off for the first time in over thirty-six hours.
When Madara woke up that next morning, it was to the comforting feeling of Sakura's arms wrapped around him. They had migrated in their sleep, her head tucked under his chin as she cuddled up to his chest. He held her protectively, her small body occupying the tiny space between his body and the back of the couch.
The biker had never slept with his back to a door, always wanting to have his eyes on the entrance, but now, he slept between her and the door to keep her from any danger first.
Madara nuzzled the top of Sakura's head and smiled against her hair, feeling so incredibly at peace with the woman he loved. He didn't want to wake her, instead just basking in her warmth and in the calm of the room. The calm she brought into his life.
He had never been happier. The storm from the night before still lingered in the back of his mind but he could find his calm in her arms.
Was this what love felt life?
When the Uchiha felt her begin to stir in his arms, he planted kisses to her hairline and pulled her closer.
"Good morning, hellcat," Madara whispered against the crown of her head.
"Mmm, good morning, Dara," Sakura mumbled as she snuggled up to him with a contented sigh.
They laid on the couch for a long while after having already woken up, just basking in each other's warmth and affection. His fingers gently combed through her short tresses and she refused to leave the space against his chest.
When Sakura finally tried to get up, he pulled her back down onto the couch and caged her against the cushions with his arms.
"Where do you think you're going?" he questioned, pressing kisses to Sakura's neck and drawing giggles from his lover.
"Ahh, your stubble is scratchy!" she yelped through her laughter, "Hey, stop it! I have to pee!"
Madara smiled against her neck, pressing one last lingering kiss to her throat before deciding, "Hmm, okay. I'll suppose I can allow you to leave just this once."
"Oh, handsome and gracious?" Sakura laughed, shaking her head in amusement before crawling out of his arms.
While she went off to the bathroom, he finally sat up on the couch and stretched out. He felt as if he had gotten one of the best nights sleep of his life and, when he glanced over at the clock hanging from her wall, he realized that he had slept for nearly twelve hours.
As he stood and rubbed at his still burning eyes, he realized that he had fallen asleep in his contacts again. Deciding he'd just take out his contacts and wear his glasses for the rest of the day, he headed to his old lady's bathroom.
They switched places, sharing a quick kiss as they went. Sakura went to go start that morning's coffee while he relieved himself as well. She returned shortly after and they both brushed their teeth together, him using the toothbrush she had gotten especially for him.
Once Madara finished rinsing and returned his toothbrush to the holder they shared, he fished out the container for his contacts and a spare pair of glasses he had stored in her bathroom.
"Oh no, did you forget to take them out again?" Sakura asked as she began to brush out her hair.
"It's no big deal," he replied as he opened the container and leaned in close to the mirror to try to remove his contacts.
Sakura laughed softly as she watched his discomfort before she teased, "You gotta stop falling asleep in those. You always wake up so miserable."
"I woke up blissful this morning, wrapped up around you. I wasn't leaving you arms last night for this minor inconvenience," Madara replied with a smile as he fished out one of his contacts.
He blinked rapidly a few times as he stored the dry contact in the container.
"Aww, Dara…" Sakura purred, standing on the tips of her toes and silently demanding a kiss.
The Uchiha smiled, leaning over to press a peck to her lips.
As he removed out his final contact, Sakura removed a towel from her bathroom cabinet.
"Leave one out for me too," he asked, her giving him a saucy smile as she pulled another towel from the cabinet.
Sakura started the shower and began stripping off her pajamas, him watching happily, even with blurry vision, as each inch of her soft skin was revealed. When she hopped into the spray of hot water, he stripped off his fish print pajamas and long sleeve shirt to join her.
The first part of their showers was always functional, even if they did often try to help one another just to have an excuse to touch each other. Madara himself loved how her toned body felt slick with soap and Sakura got some strange pleasure out of helping him with his unreasonable hair.
This shower was no different, him helping her soap up just to feel each curve of her body slick with soap. She helped him shampoo and condition his long hair, even helping him rinse out the products from his thick mane. He was even able to shave his face in the mirror hanging in the shower before she took back her razor to shave herself.
Madara stepped back to watch his old lady rinse off, already mostly hard from the feeling of her wet, slippery body against his.
"You are so beautiful, hellcat…" he purred, watching as the soap slid off her soft body in the spray of water.
When Sakura wiped the water out of her eyes, he drew her into his arms and pulled her against his own water slick body. She smiled up at him, sliding her hands up his chest and running her fingers across each ridge of muscle on his stomach and chest.
Madara returned her smile, dipping down to press his lips to hers. She returned his kiss enthusiastically and, when she nipped his bottom lip playfully, he pressed her against the wall of the shower.
"Ah! Hey! The wall is cold!" Sakura yelped, pushing back against him and away from the wall of the shower as her hands came up to grasp his forearms.
When her fingertips settled on the three new bands tattooed on his forearm, he tensed. When her fingertips brushed along the raised skin where the new ink laid, and as her eyes turned to gaze upon the crisp new rings, he watched as her face fell.
"I…" Sakura started weakly before trailing off, running the pads of her fingers across the raised skin of the three new tattoos.
She opened her mouth to speak once more but no words came out.
Madara felt as the mood was immediately lost, the sudden reminder of who he was and what he did feeling like a freezing bucket of water had been dumped on the both of them. She dropped her forehead against his chest, her hands slipping down his arms and falling to their sides.
Madara wanted to say something, anything, to bring back the warmth they had shared. To bring back their carefree interactions from the last day. He had finally been able to put aside what he had done, to stop thinking about this pointless, endless war for the night. To have Sakura despair over his new tattoos, over the fact he had killed three men the previous night, forced him to confront the hopelessness of his life and the fact that this would never work out between them.
Forced him to remember the fact that he only had so much longer with her. The fact that, in the face of her discovery, he might only have a few minutes left with her.
Madara's arms tightened around Sakura, wanting her own arms to reach up and wrap around him once more. He dropped his forehead against the cold wall of the shower, wishing they could go back to that previous night or even this morning. Back to before she had noticed his new ink, when she still saw him as him and not a monster.
Aunt Uruchi's words came back to him in that moment and he wondered if Sakura would see him for who he was or only what he did…
Madara held Sakura for as long as he could, the only thing finally pulling them from the shower being the spray of water losing it's heat. She was the one to leave first, slipping out of his embrace and out of the shower. She dried off her hair before working on drying off her body as he quickly did the same.
He would feel a panic welling within him, fear creeping in from the edges of his mind. He was terrified she was going to leave him right now with how distant and withdrawn she was being.
Madara wasn't ready to lose the woman he was madly in love with yet. Just a little bit longer and he'd be satisfied...
Stepping forward, he wrapped Sakura in his arms from behind, dropping his forehead against her neck. He wanted to show her how much he loved her, how much he wanted her to stay, how happy she made him but didn't know how to say it. Didn't know how to convince her to stay before she said she wanted to leave.
"I love you more than I've ever loved anyone…" Madara whispered against the nape of her neck.
The heavy silence that followed had his heart in a vice. He was terrified of what her next words would be.
Would she tell him to leave? That they were over? That it would never work out between them, that she could never truly love a man like him?
When Sakura finally spoke, she asked a question he hadn't expected.
"Will it ever stop?"
After a long pause of his own, Madara answered honestly, "I don't know."
She dropped her head, her hands coming up to weakly grasp his arms wrapped around her. A shiver ran through her body and it wasn't until she sniffled that he realized she was crying.
"Sakura, I…" Madara started, panic welling within him as she began to cry.
He had never heard her cry and the sorrow taking over her form was something he was at a loss over how to handle. He didn't know what to do or what to say in the face of her tears, only knowing to hold her tighter.
Madara wanted to comfort Sakura but didn't know how. He wanted to tell her that everything was okay but knew that that was a lie. He wanted to tell her he would never hurt her but his own actions were hurting her now. He wanted to tell her to please not run away, that he loved her, that he needed her now, but the words caught in his throat.
"I will never let anything happen to you…" he whispered into her damp hair, holding her tightly as she cried.
A/N: Inabi, Yashiro, and Tekka (the three who helped Izuna and Sasuke gather up the stolen goods) are the three Uchiha who confronted Itachi in the canon universe. Naori and Naka (the man and woman who helped Obito kill off any survivors) are from before the Warring States Era. Naori created Izanami and first used it on Naka after he went mad with power following the use of Izanagi. Uruchi, the tattoo artist, is Itachi and Sasuke's aunt in canon.