title At the Wisteria Tree
summary When the beginning is the end
pairing madasaku

"I would not have you see what I become."

She remembered the pain ripping through her chest. The anger and sorrow hot as it filled her throat. Her fingers curling into the front of his clothes as she sobbed.

"Forgive me, my love." His last whispered words to her carried her through the darkness of her dreams. Until she was buoyed up and up. Arms and legs limp as she broke the surface of those ever-cresting waves.

She gasped as she drank down the cool air for the first time. The moonlight that spilled in through the windows blinded her. She pressed her palm to her temple. As a high-pitched noise pierced through her ear. Just the one on the right side. And if she focused hard enough, she could almost make out the sound of a voice in it. But like all the other times, the pain faded. The sound fading with it.

An unfamiliar name lingered on the tip of her tongue. But the harder she tried to remember it, the more quickly it slipped from her mind.

Drawing her knees up to her chest, she took a deep breath.

Soon, she couldn't remember what had woken her in the first place. A bad dream? Maybe even a good one. Rubbing her hand along her cheek, she wondered why it came away wet with tears.

"You doing okay?"

A clipboard clattered onto the table. Dragging a hand through her hair, Sakura lifted her chin.

"Yeah, I'm good," she answered. She smiled when Ino reached out to pat her on the shoulder.

"Drinks after?" Ino suggested.

"Please. This project has been so stressful," she grumbled. Ino's hand gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"Yeah. The client's almost as picky as you," Ino teased. Sakura glared at her.

"Don't look at me like that. You're a nightmare when you want to be."

Squinting, Sakura considered that. And then she tilted her head before she gave a reluctant nod. "Okay, yeah. You're right."

"Cool. Now let's go get wasted," Ino declared. She slapped her palm against Sakura's before she pulled her out of the room, down the hall.

Sakura ran her hand down the craggy bark of the massive tree. When she reached up to touch the flowers, she thought she heard a whisper. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a shadow. It disappeared around the trunk.

"H...hello?" she called, tilting her head to follow the movement.

"Don't look!" a voice growled as hands whipped through the air to shield her eyes.

Sakura started but held still. The hands that covered her face were warm but rough. Slowly, she reached up to touch them, tracing her fingers up the wrists, tracing the jut of bony knuckles. She heard a sharp exhale behind her. And then, just as slowly, she traced the other way, past the wrist, over the cold metal of what felt like a bracelet. No. A... maybe a shackle? And then down the smooth fabric that whispered over itself.

"Does it still hurt?" she heard herself ask. Even though she had no idea what she was saying.

"Please, stop looking for me. I beg you, my love." He didn't answer her question.

"I'm not trying. I just keep finding you," she answered.

When Sakura blinked, she was staring at the ceiling of her studio apartment.

"Weird," was all she could think to say.

"What's weird?" asked Ino, standing in front of the microwave. She scratched her stomach as she watched her instant oatmeal slowly revolve.

"Uh..." Sakura said, rubbing her hands over her eyes. Tenting them over the bridge of her nose as she tried to think.

"Can't remember," she sighed.

On most days, Sakura could be found in her workshop. The temperature was the same whether it was winter or summer. Neat rows of glass bottles lined the walls with the white labels facing out.

The only thing that changed was the combination of fragrances that filled the room. And that all depended on the demands of that particular client.

Some days, Ino walked into what smelled like an orange grove. Other days, a woodsy, earthy smell drifted into her nose. Some scents were strong, others more subtle. And if she asked, Sakura could immediately rattle off a list of all the components that created each combination.

"What about Chanel No. 5?" Ino asked one night over Chinese food. Sakura finished slurping up a long noodle before she screwed up her face to think.

"Hm...Rose, obviously. Ylang-ylang. Jasmine. There's some sandalwood and patchouli in there. Vanilla, definitely," Sakura thought out loud.

Sakura could close her eyes and conjure up a thousand fragrances in her memory. She could even tell the difference between a synthetic and natural scent. She could identify the different brands of the perfumes and colognes of the men and women she passed on the street. Some were more pleasing than others. But there was just one smell she couldn't capture. No matter how much she mixed and stirred. No matter how many new samples she acquired.

It just wasn't the same.

Sakura opened her eyes. She was blinded by the sight of those violet flowers again. Clustered so tightly together, dripping lovely and soft from sagging branches.

"Where are you?" she wondered.

Darkness fell over her eyes again as he covered them with his hand. She turned her head, the tip of her nose brushing against his wrist. It was a nostalgic scent. One that also managed to be sad, if a smell could carry sorrow.

"Why are you here again?" he sighed.

She felt a smile creep over her face. "Should I leave?"

She wasn't surprised when she felt his other hand tangle with hers. Fingers twisting together as naturally as if they'd done it hundreds- no, thousands of times before.

"I can't stand the thought of you all alone in this place," she said. The words felt familiar even as they left her mouth.

"I would not have you see what I become," he whispered. And somehow, those words were even more familiar. They filled her with a strange, twisting feeling.

"You always do this. You know it won't last," she sighed.

And she was awake again. Blinking against the sunlight. Wondering why, for just a moment, why everything around her seemed tinged with soft purple and the fragrance of something sweet.

"Wo-w." Temari drew out the syllable as Sakura sat down across from her. Sakura flipped her hair over her collar as she shed her coat. Temari reached out, making a grasping motion. Sakura handed over her arm, letting Temari lift her wrist up to her nose to sniff.

"That smells amazing," Temari declared. Beside her, her husband leaned over to get a whiff.

"Yowza," Shikamaru agreed, lifting his sunglasses on top of his head.

"Sell me a bottle of that," Temari requested.

Sakura picked up the menu. "This is still in development. You'll have to wait," Sakura told her as she flipped through the salads and pastas.

"Better yet, just come work for us. We'll pay double what Ino pays," Shikamaru suggested.

Temari slapped his arm. "We can't afford that. Don't lie to her," she scolded.

Despite being on the receiving end of a lecture, Shikamaru stared at Temari. Adoration shining in his eyes. His face so soft that Sakura almost felt embarrassed to see it. And it tugged at something in the back of her mind. Like a memory buried in a blind spot. No matter how hard she dug, she could never seem to find it.

That night, the silver-purple of the wisteria tree filled her dreams. Sakura closed her eyes.

"I won't peek," she assured him.

Stretching her arms out, she waited. Just the whisper of the tree branches swaying in a non-existent wind. And it occurred to her then, like it had all the times before, that it was silent here. No birds, no insects. Not even the cautious croak of a frog.

His hands slipped over her eyes. But when she twisted around, she felt his hands go limp. She pressed her face against his chest instead, listening to the thunder of his heart. Taking in that smell again that she could never remember outside of these dreams. She gripped the back of his shirt, suddenly a little angry.

"It's getting worse," she scolded him.

"Forgive me."

"You're such a fool," she sighed. Her hands tightened on his shirt. She felt his hands rest on her lower back, hugging her a little closer.

"My fool," she then added.

His heartbeats grew heavier. More insistent. Beating like angry war drums.

"Please stop looking for me. I'm begging you, my love," he pleaded.

"No," she answered, almost smiling. "Never, ever."

It started as little things. Just a slight ringing in her ears. The doctor assured her that it was due to stress and recommended melatonin to help her sleep at night.

But the strangest thing was that she could almost hear something in that ringing. Muffled and smothered deep somewhere in that noise. A voice that she would know anywhere yet could not remember. And more than that, there was a strange fragrance that haunted her. No matter how much she experimented, she could never get it quite right.

All fragrances had a combination. Mossy, earthy, floral, fruity. All it took was the right number of drops to evoke a memory or a place. Vanilla and fruit mixed with almond brought in the memories of homemade cookies. Rose and sandalwood made people remember their mothers putting on their makeup in the morning.

"I don't get it. What's wrong with this? It smells great," Ino said, lifting the dropper to her nose.

"It's not right," Sakura mumbled. She rubbed her hands over her face, letting out a sigh.

"What's it supposed to smell like?" Ino asked. And Sakura knew that she was just trying to be helpful.

"I... I don't know. I can't remember," Sakura admitted as the ringing returned to her right ear. Just high-pitched enough to make her wince.

"Do you remember?" she asked him. She didn't even remember the beginning of the conversation. But she was wrapped up in his arms again. The wisterias brushing against her cheek and hair. The heavens and all the stars blocked by the fluffy petals that sagged down to the ground.

"Of course I do," he answered. His voice was filled with so much pain. She knew it was her fault, but she wasn't sorry.

"You can't avoid it forever," she warned him.

His arms tightened around her. She felt his chest hitch. It felt hot against her cheek. His fragrance filled her nose and her mouth. Swept down her throat, expanding her lungs.

"I can fix this. If only I had more time. I can... I can..." he whispered.

Her chest ached at the brokenness of every syllable he spoke. This was not him. This was not how he was supposed to be.

"I'll find you soon, my love. Wait for me," she promised.

When she opened her eyes, again, Sakura found them overflowing with tears. Her hands grasping at thin air.

"Ouch!"

"You alright?" Ino asked, looking up from her files. She found Sakura standing at her work station, her left hand twisted around her thumb. The rose she had been working with lay abandoned on the counter. Bright red droplets oozed up from the gouge the thorn had left in her skin. The ringing rising and rising, filling her ears, piercing her head with the pain of the whispers that rose with fervor.

Ino plucked some tissues out of the box as she walked over to her. But when she handed them to Sakura, there was no reaction.

"Hey. Sak," Ino said, waving the tissues a little.

"Of course," muttered Sakura.

"Huh?"

"It was... this. This was missing," Sakura whispered. Her eyes fixed on the blood that flowed from her finger now. It dripped onto the counter. Onto the bright green stem of the guilty rose.

And the smell of the blood filled each of her breaths. She closed her eyes. She could see the fluffy wisteria waving in the breeze. The way the petals seemed to glow with ethereal light. And the shape of his lonely silhouette standing under that tree. Waiting for her.

The scents combined all at once. Earth, bark, rain, wisteria.

And blood.

She opened her mouth to call the name she could now remember. The name that had been hiding in those whispers all this time.

"Madara."

"Sakura, what are you-"

Before Ino could finish her question, Sakura was enveloped in golden tendrils of light. And then she was gone.

The gate to the Well of Souls was locked. As it had always been.

Somehow, she knew that she was right on time.

Sakura held her hand up. The bars of the gate buckled, crumpling inwards. They twisted until the chains binding them snapped, sparks flying. And after she stepped through, the bars righted themselves. The links of the chains coming together, like they had never parted in the first place. With each step, the darkness receded. Crawling away from each of her footsteps, as if fleeing her presence.

Up ahead, she could see the glow of the wisteria tree. Ancient and young all at once. The blossoms never withering, petals falling and scattering only to rise back up to their places. The branches swaying in a silent wind.

"Madara."

The curtain of the wisteria parted for him. He peered out at her past the glowing flowers. The golden manacles on his wrists jangling together with each of his movements. Dark movements fluttered behind him.

"I begged you not to look for me. Why are you here?" he spat. Face contorting as the chains on his ankles jerked him back when he strayed too far from the tree.

"Have I ever listened to you before?" she laughed, taking a step toward him instead. He retreated back under the cover of the wisteria tree. Eyes the color of blazing flames as he turned them away from her.

"It was said long ago, Madara," she went on as she ducked past the flowers. He stood with his back to her.

"When the serpent who guards the Well of Souls breaks free from his chains, it is the beginning of the end," she recited. She drew closer. When her hand touched his shoulder, Madara flinched away from her. She grabbed him by the chain instead. The gold felt cold against her palm.

"As he breaks his bonds, the serpent will shake the foundations of the world tree. He brings forth calamity. The sun will descend to the lower levels of the underworld. The moon and the stars turn their faces from the world in pity of its destruction."

Madara finally looked at her when she touched his cheek. His eyes too bright.

"It's time to go free, Madara," she told him.

"I didn't want you to be here," he spat. Teeth gleaming white and sharp as his lips pulled back.

"Why?"

"I'm the monster that destroys the world," he hissed.

A smile softened her face. She cupped his face in her hands, laughing a little at how he stooped so that she could reach.

"And I'm the monster that frees you," she reminded him. She drew him in for a kiss. Lips lingering and soft. The fragrance of the wisteria unbearably sweet.

"You love this world," Madara mumbled against her mouth.

Eyes still closed, she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck.

"The beginning and the end are one in the same, my love," Sakura assured him. She kissed him one last time before she let her hands slide down his shoulders, trailing down his arms, to his wrists. The manacles melted under her touch. The gold dripping down his wrists and fingers. The chains around his ankles dissolved just as quickly.

Then the world erupted in flames. The wisteria tree blackening and crackling as the heat engulfed it. The bark splintered as the delicate purple flowers dissolved into soot. He razed and he thrashed. A howl ripping through his throat as he watched the world crumble all around him. All the while, the flames burned hotter and hotter, blackening the mountains as they sunk into the seas along with the sun.

And when the flames had finally died down. When all was silent. He heard the footsteps crackling through the soft blanket of ash that had descended on the barren world.

Madara lay huddled on his side. HIs throat raw, his limbs heavy.

"Is it done?" he asked, needlessly.

"Yes," Sakura answered, just as needlessly.

She lay down in the ash beside him. Resplendent and smiling as she laid her hand over his cheek.

"You can rest now, my love. You've done so well," she murmured. Despite the weariness that weighed his limbs down, Madara moved his head, his forehead touching hers. Tears spilling from his eyes as he finally let them close.

"This time, we'll make something beautiful," he promised her.

"We always do," she answered.

"You know, legends say that the world is made from the bodies of the gods," Ino remarked. Sakura looked up from her book, blinking.

"What?"

"Yeah. According to the myth, the oceans come from their blood, the mountains from their bones. And according to one myth, the world is reborn every millennium. How crazy is that!" Ino laughed at the absurdity of it all.

Sakura turned her head to look out the window. For a moment, she saw long branches dripping with purple flowers. When she blinked, they were gone. A soft ringing in her ears echoed faintly. Carrying a whisper of something that she couldn't quite understand.

"...yeah... How weird," Sakura mused, chin in her hand.