AN: I use the terms fiancée/wife and fiancé/husband interchangeably in this story since Madara and Sakura are so in love and devoted to each other that they already consider themselves married in their hearts (and by everyone surrounding them).

Content warning: graphic depictions of violence.

PS with a small spoiler: if you don't like my name choice for my MadaSaku baby and/or where I'm obviously going with it, keep it to yourself because I don't care :) Bless everyone who sees it and gets pumped like I am, I cherish you!

The familiar thrum of the motorcycle beneath Madara did little to quell the constant dread which festered within him, steadily growing alongside a grim acceptance.

The deserted road he drove upon cut through the forest surrounding the city, the winding road slowly becoming less and less maintained as he drove further and further away from the city. Izuna sat on his own bike beside him and Obito followed loyally behind in an unmarked van as they rode towards the setting sun and their destination - a hidden location far passed the city and deep into the rural outskirts of the country.

As they rode, he had watched, unseeingly, as the familiar sights of the city made way to the unmarked warehouses that bordered the town, some of them the club's own properties. The warehouses had made way for factories then the farms until the scenery surrounding them settled on the untamed forest their city was named after.

Even with the scenery being just as beautiful as it was the first day he rode down these winding pathways as a teenager, his mind was distracted by far more pressing matters: The war between the Uchiha and the Senju was about to come to a head.

The days filling the months following Sakura's attempted abduction had been filled with arsons, assaults, robberies, abductions, torture, murder, and death. After the assault on Sakura - the club's doctor and his fiancée - and his family's returning attack on the Senju, the fighting had escalated to the point of no return. Nothing could stop this war from finally coming to a bloody end once and a final, decisive battle was about to take place.

Madara had once thought that he could bring peace between the clubs, that he could finally put an end to the generations long blood feud that had left hundreds of corpses in its wake. Looking back on it now, he couldn't understand how he had been such a fool, how he could have ever believed that he and Hashirama could put an end to the bloodshed with peace.

It had been nothing but a pipe dream, the fantasies of children better left in the past. He couldn't force peace if no one wanted it. Even still, the realization of this inevitability filled him with a crippling shame. Hashirama had believed in him, his family had believed in him, Sakura had believed in him… and he had failed them all.

If he couldn't bring an end to the war with a peace treaty, he would do it the only other way he knew how. To protect his family, his wife, and his unborn child, he would abandon the promise he had made to himself nearly thirty years ago. To keep the people he loved safe, he would eradicate the Senju MC.

Any mercy they had earned from him had been lost when they tried to kidnap his pregnant wife.

Sakura…

Through it all, through the worsening of the war and through his darkening depression as he began to plan for a massacre, she had been his rock. Madara thought of how they had just been to her obstetrician not even a week previous and how they had finally found out the sex of their child: a girl.

He had been thrilled to discover that he had been correct in identifying the sex of their child, as Uchiha were apt to do. He had been unable to gloat at this confirmation since seeing their daughter on the screen of the ultrasound had his vaunting words lost to overjoyed tears. He had been grateful for the elderly doctor giving them a smile and their privacy, allowing him and his wife to share their happiness and their tears with no one but their unborn daughter as an audience.

The only moments of light he had in his life was when he was with the woman he loved and their child growing in the safety of her rounded belly. Everything else had been nothing but death and despair. It took him hours to catch up the tally tattooed on his arms with the corpses at his feet.

He found that his hands were more often stained with blood than cradling his fiancée's belly. He wanted to change this, desperately. He wanted to support her like she needed. He wanted to be with her like he needed. More than anything, he wanted to keep her safe. And he would accomplish this by wiping out the Senju in this final, upcoming battle.

Before they could make their move, however, they needed the funds to do so. While they already had an impressive stockpile of weapons and ammunition - they were a club that specialized in running guns - they needed more. They needed to outfit not only his chapter but all of the branches of the club if they wanted this country wide massacre to succeed.

More than that, they needed the money and the favors required to bribe - or coerce - the proper officials into keeping everyone out of jail. The attack would take place in one bloody night and he knew that the world would not fail to notice the eradication of the Senju MC.

They needed to make arrangements to amass the funds required to purchase the instruments of their genocide.

For the past couple of months, they had been doing just that, rapidly stockpiling the funds and the supplies they needed to make their purchase from the most powerful criminal organization in the world: the Akatsuki.

The final deal they needed to arrange before they could make their purchase and plan their extermination laid down the dirt road that him, Izuna, and Obito finally pulled off of the road to turn down.

At the end of the overgrown road was a gate - the only opening in the sprawling, iron fence which surrounded acres of property. A steely haired man in dress clothes leaned against a black sedan parked on the other side of the gate, a cigarette perched between his lips. Upon seeing their approach, he took one last hit off of his smoke before flicking it to the ground where a dozen cigarette butts were piled. Stubbing out the cherry with the heel of his oxford, he unlocked the gate and swung it open for them, allowing them to drive through.

Looking in the side view mirror, Madara caught sight of the man locking the gate behind them before stepping into his vehicle. Pulling ahead of them, they followed him down an weeded driveway which led to a distant farmhouse. Circling around the back of the large but seemingly abandoned home, he guided them to a barn where three people waited for their arrival.

As they parked in front of the open barn, Madara immediately spotted the familiar, scarred face of Danzo Shimura, the leader of the Shimura Syndicate. The elderly man glared out at his approaching guests with his one functioning eye, the other covered with a dark gray eyepatch that matched the color of his suit. He stood with a cane in one hand although, with his strong stance, Madara suspected the man had little need for it aside from as a weapon. Three similarly dressed men stood behind him - members of his organization - all of them wearing dress clothes in various, muted colors.

The Shimura Syndicate had been around for nearly as long as the Uchiha MC and, while they had functioned in the same city for years, they rarely interacted. While the Uchihas found themselves more interested in dealing with the outlaw populations of the cities they operated in, the Shimuras readily involved themselves in the political affairs of their country. Despite the Shimura's interest in gaining influence through legal means, they still had great need for the violence that gave them a leg up in back room deals and in dispersing opposition to their climb to power.

Despite their differences, the relationship between the Uchiha and the Shimura was solid enough to where business deals such as these were far from out of the ordinary. Madara and Danzo had met a handful of times in the past, the differences in their lifestyles evident in every interaction but their claims to power leaving a wary respect between them both.

Madara and Izuna shut off their bikes as they stood, the sudden loss of noise making the silence surrounding them all the more deafening. Obito followed suit after parking the van behind them, the bitter Uchiha stepping out to lean against the side of the vehicle and watching intently as the sedan parked a short distance away.

Danzo stepped forward to greet them, his attendants staying silent and unmoving at his back.

"It's been a considerable amount of time since our last meeting. I trust the drive out here was uneventful?" he began, nodding to Madara.

"As always. Although it would be considerably easier for all of us if you chose a closer location," Madara replied, crossing his arms across his chest as Izuna came to stand at his side.

"It isn't exactly comfortable to ride near a van filled with barrels of that shit," Izuna groused, scowling deeply.

"Ah, you have it then? All of it?" Danzo questioned, glancing over at the van which Obito still leaned against silently.

"Only if you have our part of our arrangement," Madara returned.

Nodding once, Danzo looked back at his attendants. With a tilt of his head, one of the men behind him - a young man with ink colored hair and pale skin - smiled, the curve of his lips bringing with it a tide of unease. Turning on his heel, he strode into the open barn, disappearing into the darkness.

Another man, this one with charcoal colored hair and large sunglasses, stepped forward, walking towards the van.

"You won't mind if I have my aide inspect the goods first?" he asked even as the man continued towards the van, unconcerned with Madara's consent, "Simply to assure you've brought us the correct products, of course."

Izuna scowled at the passing stranger but Madara remained stoic, his sharp gaze pinned onto Danzo.

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you," Madara growled, his hackles rising at both the overt display of disrespect, the sensation of a stranger at his back, and something else, "Does your attendant even know how to identify what we've brought?"

The footsteps behind him stopped, the familiar noise of a van door sliding open sounding shortly after.

"I would hope so. If he was such a worthless chemist that he couldn't recognize the components I need for my explosives then I would have had him killed years ago."

Danzo's casual mention of having someone killed just for not being useful to him made Madara's stomach roll in revulsion. The people who followed Madara were not his servants but rather people who shared the club with him. Precious family members who he would do anything to protect. The fact the man cared so little for those who served him made him sick.

"One big happy family," Izuna sneered in open disgust.

"I don't need them to be happy, I need them to serve their purpose. No one will stand in the way of me and my ascent to power. I will change this world for the better," Danzo answered, unphased by their revulsion, "Whether it be enemies within or outside of my syndicate, anyone who I deem to be a hindrance will die."

Madara's eyes narrowed, the hidden meaning in his words and the situation around him leaving him on high alert. His sharp gaze flicked across the field to the steely haired man who lingered next to the sedan, the driver's door open. He looked to the open barn, the young man from before still lost to the darkness within. Finally, he looked to the man with a shock of orange hair who lingered behind Danzo, the man meeting his gaze for just a moment before looking away. At his attention, the man flexed his fist once, anxiety in the subtle movement, before forcing himself to relax.

Something was wrong.

"Shimura, sir! Everything is accounted for!" the voice of Danzo's attendant called out from behind Madara.

Danzo smiled and, when he did, Madara was already moving.

Pulling a pistol from his coat pocket with lightning speed, Danzo drew on Izuna and pulled the trigger. The sound of a gunshot cracked the air between all of them, the deafening sound marking the beginning of a flurry of activity on the new battlefield.

Shoving Izuna out of the way of the bullet, both him and Madara dropped to the ground in a heap before rolling out of the way and beginning their sprint towards the cover of the van. As they ran, they drew their own pistols, firing blindly behind them and scattering their sudden foes. One of the stray bullets hit the chemist who had been trying to run away, the man stumbling and falling to the ground with an expletive as a bullet pierced his chest.

Danzo unloaded a few more rounds in their direction as he too ran, the sound of bullets hitting the dirt following behind them as they made their retreat passed their bikes and to the safety of the van. Glancing behind him Madara caught sight of the man next to the sedan reach into the vehicle and withdraw a rifle, the sound of automatic gunfire filling the air just after they ducked behind the van. Taking cover behind the wheels, the man shot a few controlled bursts beneath the undercarriage.

"Pain in my fucking ass," Obito hissed before a bullet pierced through his prosthetic leg, the only part of him visible beneath the skirt of the van, "Son of a bitch! Sakura is going to be pissed at me for that!"

With a scowl that twisted his features, Obito threw open the passenger door, ducking beneath a fresh hail of bullets to reach beneath the seat. Pulling an uzi from his hiding place - a large banana clip jammed into the receiver and duct taped to a second magazine - he tugged on the bolt, loading the machine gun with the decisive sound of metal on metal.

Madara, already knowing Obito's unspoken plan, pulled a spare magazine from his pocket and exchanged it for the empty one in his pistol. Pushing down on the slide stop, the slide shot forward and locked into place, loading a bullet into the chamber. Beside him, Izuna did the same.

Listening to the sound of scattering footsteps, Madara tried to pinpoint exactly where his enemies were taking cover in preparation for Obito's next move.

Reaching over the hood of the van with his uzi, Obito unloaded a full clip, the sound of rapid gunfire drowning out all sounds in the clearing as he sprayed the battlefield with bullets. As he removed the magazine from his automatic weapon, flipping it over and jamming the full clip taped to the opposite side into the receiver, Madara and Izuna bolted around the sides of the van.

"You better not have hit my bike, you asshole!" Izuna yelled, already pulling off a few rounds into the barn where they were both certain both Danzo and the dark haired man were hiding. Holes popped up in the metal siding of the barn, letting in beams of dim, warm light.

Madara's eyes snapped over to where the man with the machine gun had been, finding him slumped over against the sedan, both his corpse and his vehicle filled with bullet holes. Glancing over to the downed chemist from earlier, he saw that he too was dead, a pool of blood rapidly growing around his body.

Finally, he looked towards where he thought he had heard footsteps while behind the van. He spotted a hint of movement behind an air conditioning unit, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

A poor choice in cover.

Unloading a few rounds into the outdoor unit, there was a sound of anguish, nearly hidden by the cracks of gunfire. The orange haired man slumped over in the dirt in an unnatural position, his own handgun falling out of his hands as he twitched uselessly.

Madara's gaze snapped over to the fields behind the barn, his attention suddenly drawn by two sets of headlights in the distance, lighting up overgrown field as they rapidly advanced.

"Reinforcements!" he yelled, shoving Izuna towards his bike as he ran to his own.

"Obito! We need to get the fuck out of here!" Izuna yelled as he ran to his bike, hopping onto the back with expert ease and shoving down on the kickstarter, "And you're paying for the holes in my bike!"

Obito, having hopped over the passenger's seat and into the driver's side, leaned out the window and filled the barn and the area surrounding it with bullets, giving his club mates the cover they needed to safely get on their motorcycles. Madara kick started his bike, the engine immediately roaring, but it took Izuna a few more kicks before his injured steed sputtered to life.

Turning the key to the van, the vehicle spun up, headlights flicking on and lighting up the darkening field. Throwing his uzi into the passenger seat, Obito took off first, kicking up dirt and stones as he sped away. Madara and Izuna followed directly behind, Madara unloading a few more shots into the barn to prevent Danzo and his lackey from taking a shot at his family's retreating backs.

Twisting the throttle on his bike, he raced after them.

Using the van as a battering ram, Obito blew through the locked gate, forcing it open and creating an escape route for Madara and Izuna. Izuna flew through first, his bike backfiring a handful of times but remaining true, and Madara was directly behind.

The trio peeled out onto the paved road, all three Uchiha easily reaching triple digits on their speedometers as they fled from their would be assassins and the darkening horizon.

Adrenaline stilled rushed through his blood as Izuna flew off of the freeway, finally slowing down to a reasonable speed as he approached the road leading to the clubhouse. His bike faltered as he continued onwards, nearly dying, before lurching forward and continuing down the road.

That homicidal junkie was going to pay for the damages to his ride.

He had lost Obito and Madara once they had hit the freeway, all of them having cleared the backwoods stretch of land in little more than minutes at the speeds they were going. He had thought it was a stupid idea to get onto the highway with a truck and a bike riddled with bullet holes and breaking the speed limit by more than double but his brother and Obito were hardly ones to concern themselves with stealth.

Izuna could admit it was better to be on the roads for as little time as possible lest someone call the cops.

Pulling up outside of the clubhouse, the engine of his bike died immediately, sputtering out. Looking down, his eyes narrowed at the bullet hole in his gas tank, the pungent smell of gasoline filling the air around him. Glancing around, he didn't bother to wait for the club prospect to finish opening the gate for him, instead pushing his way through the small opening they had already made.

"Close it but stay on your toes, the enforcer is coming in hot," Izuna called out as he walked his bike into the lot, knowing that Obito should be behind him any moment. The less time that bullet riddled van spent within the public eye, the better, night time or not.

Not to mention the conspicuous vehicle was filled with barrels of the raw, stolen materials needed to manufacture explosives. Obito would never get out of jail if he was caught.

The young prospect nodded sharply as they shutting the gate behind him, Izuna pulling up behind some trucks to hide his bike. Looking around as he forced down his kickstand and finally began to catch his breath, he was surprised to find that Madara wasn't already here.

Sighing deeply as he finally allowed himself to relax, Izuna stood from his still leaking ride and walked the short distance to one of the picnic tables set up outside of the clubhouse. Sitting on the edge of one of the tables, he reached into one of the pockets of his cut, searching for his hidden flask.

That was way too fucking close. They had very nearly lost their lives. They were dealing with enough with the war against the Senju growing worse every day and now this?

Those Shimura dogs were going to pay.

Pulling out his flask from his pocket and unscrewing the lid, he was lifting it to his lips when a flash of color caught his eye. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, he held out his hand, his eyes immediately widening at the smears on his fingertips.

Blood.

Izuna patted himself down, concerned that the adrenaline of the fight and the ride had masked any pain from an injury he had yet to notice, but found there was no wounds on him. Even lifting his shirt to check the old wound on his stomach that Sakura had stitched up months ago, he found the injury that had already become a scar was fine. He hadn't touched any of the corpses they had left behind. But he had touched...

"No…" he whispered.

Dropping his flask, the metal container bouncing off of the wood table before hitting the concrete with a clang, he reached into his opposite pocket and ripped out his phone. Rapidly tapping in his passcode and tapping on a familiar name in his phone book, his heart began to pound in his chest.

Madara realized that he didn't feel right while he way racing down the freeway.

He had lost Obito and Izuna near the beginning of the highway, more skilled than all of them at the task of bobbing and weaving between cars at this absurd speed. Not to mention his bike hadn't been damaged in the fight with the Shimura, the engine beneath him still roaring true as he flew down the paved road.

As he shot down the freeway, he found his reaction time was slowing. His weaving around the vehicles which appeared to be stopped with how fast he was traveling grew sloppier. His vision was getting blurrier as if he didn't have his contacts in. His breathing came heavy and quick from something more than the adrenaline rushing through him.

More than anything, a stabbing pain in his gut had come from nowhere and continued to get worse and worse.

Knowing that he would kill himself before any tails from the Shimura could in his condition, Madara pulled off of the freeway and sped through a darkened business district. Coming to a stop outside of a closed laundromat, he parked beneath a flood light swarming with thousands of buzzing insects.

His stomach now screaming in pain, he reached down to delicately touch the source of his agony. Immediately hissing in pain at just the slightest contact, he pulled his hand back, only to find his fingertips coated in blood.

Hazy confusion filling him, he reached down once again, this time lifting up the edge of his shirt, the wet cloth sticking to his skin. His blurry gaze locked onto a hole in his abdomen, the wound draining a thin, continuous stream of blood down his stomach which had already soaked both his shirt and the leg of his jeans. The blood - his blood - dripped down the seat of his bike, disappearing into the maze of his engine before dripping to the ground beneath his feet.

He had been shot.

Madara stared down at the unfamiliar wound, confused, for a long moment, his muddled mind struggling to understand the wound piercing his abdomen. He remembered he had been shot once before, the bullet having shot clean through his bicep and leaving nothing behind but an agonizing pain and rage at the shooter. It had been nothing like this, this strange numbness and confusion which accompanied a screaming pain that made his head spin and his heart race weakly in his chest.

He felt wobbly, the ground beneath his feet feeling unsteady despite knowing it was solid below him. When he pushed down his shirt and looking back up to the road before him, his vision took a moment to catch up with his movement, a wave of nausea coming with the change in perspective.

He had lost too much blood… There was no way he could just stitch this up and put a bandage on this. He briefly wondered if Sakura could save him, like she had for Izuna. He had been shot too, nearly in the same place, after all.

Madara was briefly able to hold out hope but with how much energy it took just to pull back out onto the street and speed his way towards his and Sakura's home, he didn't think even Sakura would be able to save him from this. With how the world teetered around him, familiar roads and signs turning into a maze he struggled to understand let alone navigate, he wasn't even sure if he'd survive just this short ride home.

His strangely fluttering heart clenched in his chest as he twisted the throttle, trying to find a safe middle ground between the speed he needed to get home in time and the reaction time he needed to get home at all. He weaved around cars and in his own lane as the blood loss continued to take its toll, muddling his mind and his movement as he struggled to push onward.

He knew that this would happen someday. He knew he was destined to die this way. He knew he would one day join the rest of his family in the mass grave dug by this endless war… He just didn't want it to be so soon. Not when he had a fiancée waiting for him at home. Not when they had a baby on the way. Not when he had finally gotten a taste of happiness…

Gods, he was going to leave Sakura behind. Her and their unborn daughter. He was a father but he'd never get to see their child. He'd never get to hold her in his arms…

He couldn't die yet.

He may never be able to be the father he wanted to be, but he would hold his wife in his arms one last time. He had to see her one last time. He needed to tell her how much he loved her, how grateful he was that she gave him a chance, how wonderful she was for giving an old man like him a child, how he had been happier with her in this past year than he had been in his entire life.

He just had to reach her. He had to see her one last time. He just wanted to see his wife one last time. His hellcat and the kitten in her belly.

Forcing himself to focus, Madara pushed forward, sloppily shifting his bike into the next gear as he struggled to control limbs which were rapidly feeling heavier and heavier and less and less like his own. He raced down streets that he knew were familiar but that looked alien, haze encroaching on the edges of his already blurry vision. Struggling to not get lost in the neighborhood he had lived in for over a decade, he finally found the home him and Sakura shared.

Pulling up into the driveway, he was nearly unable to cut the engine before he lost his balance and dropped his bike to the ground. Barely able to maintain his footing, he abandoned his bike where it had fallen, instead stumbling up to the garage door and gracelessly yanking the cover off of the keypad.

Unable to make out the numbers but knowing the pattern still, he left bloody fingerprints on the keys as he tried to input the code. It was only on the third attempt that he succeeded, the garage door winding opening and blinding him with the yellowed light within.

Lurching towards the door, he used the wall of the garage to maintain his balance as he struggled to not trip over his own two feet. Throwing open the door, he staggered inside, leaving behind a trail of smeared, crimson handprints as he struggled to stay upright.

Pausing for a moment to catch his breath and to try to focus his vision enough to properly see, Madara found the living room was empty. Using the wall now to not only maintain his balance but to find his way to the hallway, he staggered towards their bedroom in his frantic search for his wife. He knocked over a framed picture, the glass shattering on the ground and his boots crunching the shards beneath his feet.

As he approached the bathroom, he was greeted by the sound of running water, the sudden relief rushing through him so powerful that his fading heart skipped a beat in his chest. Staggering towards the bathroom, he pushed the unlocked door open and was met with bright light and steam. Slumping against the door frame to catch his breath once again - perhaps for the final time, he listened as Sakura hummed in the shower.

She sounded like an angel.

Smiling blearily, Madara dragged himself towards the shower, struggling to put one foot in front of the other and the only thing pushing him onwards being seeing her one last time. Opening the shower door, he stepped inside, careful to not slip or startle her into turning around just yet. Watching as Sakura basked in the warmth of the water, he felt more as if he was faced with a goddess than his wife.

"Hello, hellcat," he greeted weakly as he wrapped his arms around her waist, his voice just as much a struggle to use as his arms.

Sakura immediately jumped in surprise, yelling out, "Holy shit, Dara, don't do that! What the hell!?"

"Sorry… I shouldn't have scared you…" he apologized, closing his eyes and holding her tightly, pulling her back against his still clothed chest as hot water cascaded down them both.

"Ugh, you scared the crap out of me!" she scolded, reaching up to wipe the water from her eyes, and there was a short pause before she asked in disbelief and amusement, "Why do you have your clothes on? Are you drunk?"

"I'm just… happy to see you…" Madara struggled to get out, smoothing his palm across the curve of her belly and praying she didn't notice how his hand trembled. He smiled as he felt a gentle kick against his wife's smooth belly, their daughter happily greeting him and reacting to her mother's excitement.

Sakura laughed and he shivered. Her voice sounded otherworldly; so soft yet so strong, so familiar yet so unusual, so close yet so far away. He was happy to die to the sound of her voice, to die next to the woman he loved. He was happy to have been able to cradle their daughter one last time in the only way he could; while she was still safely nestled within the love of his life.

"You are drunk, huh? Obito or Izuna better have brought you home, you better not have ridden," she chided, him simply humming against her neck in response and desperately trying to hide how he had begun to wobble with the exertion it took just to stand. He hoped she just assumed it was because he was drunk.

When Madara's eyes finally slid open, he didn't need to focus his blurry gaze to see that the water going down the drain was tainted with his blood. He prayed she didn't notice yet. He just wanted a few more moments.

Just a little while longer...

"Thank you for giving me a chance… I know you-you deserve more than an old man like me…" he muttered into her neck, leaning into her more than he intended and holding her tightly as he swayed.

"Don't say that. I love you, Dara," Sakura pouted, her hands smoothing across his forearms in comfort, before she teased, "Even if you do come home hammered and scare the crap out of me in the shower."

"You're so perfect, I don't know what you saw in me. I love you so much, I wish I had the words to explain how much you mean to me..." Madara pressed on, desperately searching through the murky waters of his mind for his final words to her.

Her hands stilled in their comfort, her heartbeat quickening under his fingertips. "You're drunk… But I love you too."

His hand swept across her belly once more, trying to memorize the feeling of her skin and the weight of their child within her. "What do you want to name our kitten?"

"What?"

He was sure she noticed his shaking now.

"Tell me her name…"

In his final moments, he wanted nothing more than to know their daughter's name. He couldn't help pick anymore and he was desperate to know the name of their child. The name he would keep in his heart in the afterlife until he could see them both again… If he was even worthy enough to meet them where he was positive they would go.

"We were going to decide together..." Sakura answered, concern seeping into her voice.

"You pick…" he muttered, the darkness behind his eyes seeping from the edges of his vision into the center. The sound of the shower was distorted now, sounding more like static than water, but he forced himself to focus on his wife's voice. He struggled to stay standing until she told him, leaning against her heavily.

The water going down the drain was completely red now.

"I was thinking... Sarada…" Sakura answered, unease open in her tone. Madara huffed out a laugh, a delirious smile pulling at his lips.

She wanted to name their daughter fucking Salad. What a ridiculous name. As if he was one to talk… Sarada was the perfect name. It held pieces of both of their names, pieces of both of them. He'd live on through her, his daughter, his baby girl… his little kitten.

"Sarada… it's… perfect," he whispered, deeply satisfied, as he finally lost his balance.

Slumping against the wall of the shower, his hands slipped away from Sakura. Too weak to catch himself, he collapsed, falling backwards into the tub. Dazed, he looked upwards through half lidded eyes, his bleary gaze finally taking in the mess of blood surrounding him: crimson streaming down the drain, soaking his wet clothes, trailing on the wall leading to the shower… a smeared handprint on his wife's rounded belly.

"Dara!" he heard Sakura cry out although she sounded miles away.

When Madara looked up to her, he couldn't make out her expression but, based on the fear in her voice, he knew it would break his heart. His eyes slid shut, his eyelids too heavy to keep open any longer. As if it was any use with his faded vision. He heard the water shut off and felt warm hands against his stomach, Sakura lifting his shirt to see the wound he knew was still bleeding.

"What happened! Why didn't you tell me!?" Sakura demanded, panicked, "Were you just going to let yourself die in front of me!?"

He wished he could do anything to comfort her. Anything to quell the heartbreak in her tone and the tears he knew would come soon after his heart finally stopped beating.

Even as Madara became more and more incoherent from the blood loss, the pain in his stomach was still sharp and distinct as Sakura put pressure on his wound. He hissed, his face contorting in pain, before his eyes opened one last time to look up at her.

He wished he had the strength to wipe the tears from her face.

The strength it took to keep his eyes open escaped him as the numbness encroached further. He felt a strange tugging near his chest, a tugging that removed an even stranger buzzing sensation from against his skin. He thought he could hear Izuna's voice screaming but it sounded so strange and far away. He could almost make out what Sakura was crying but her voice was underwater.

...this was it...

"I love you- and Sarada… sorry for leaving, for everything… I'll be waiting…" he whispered, his voice drifting off as he lost the last of his strength, "...love… you… love..."

"Dara! You promised- you promised me you'd never leave! Please!" he heard Sakura scream, her voice sounding farther and farther away.

"Dara?! Dara! No, stay awake baby!"

"Please, baby, you've got to stay awake! Don't go, please!"

"Daraaa!"