Summary: There comes a time when you eventually stop looking under the bed for monsters, because you realize that the real monsters are from within. For Sakura, she had known it since the time she gained a small sense of satisfaction from destroying ant hills and bird nests. It wasn't until she met Madara that the monster within her began to stir. He was her Joker as she was his Harley Quinn.

Pairing: MadaSaku

Rating: Mature for violence and possibly future lemons

Word Count: 2,796

Harlequin

"Dementia; damnant quodnon intelligunt / Madness; they condemn what they do not understand."

— Anonymous

Chapter 3

The weekly sessions with the shaggy haired madman that had turned into daily sessions were becoming tolerable for Sakura. The little game that they shared were not at all daily—that would have been too tiresome—but they were at random times throughout the week. Many people who saw them interact outside of her office when she would welcome and release would have thought of it was a one-sided attraction mainly from Madara's end. He was not afraid to ridicule himself like the one time he had asked for her number when Sakura bid him farewell and sent him off with nurses to be taken back. Of course, she would always ignore his comments, questions and flirtation outside of her office.

On the inside, it was much different. The atmosphere was often thick with intimate questions and responses. It was almost like an intimate war zone of questionings and answers being catapulted back and forth cleverly. So far, no one had emerged victorious nor had neither of them lost. She would admit, some of his thought-provoking questions would rile her up for the entirety of the day after their sessions to where she would ask those very same questions to her close friends on her rare days off.

"Aren't you going to eat Forehead?"

"I already ate before I got off work, Pig." Sakura hummed, staring at a small gathering of seemingly civilized children at the park who were arguing who had their turn next onto the swings. Today was one of the rare days she got off of work early and for once, she was thankful for the break. She didn't realize how much work had consumed her until she stepped out of the psychiatric ward and into actual public places filled with sane people, such as her friend next to her.

"Suit yourself," Ino shrugged, pale blue eyes glimmering as she bit into her avocado sandwich. "So what's next on your list?" she spoke, mouth full of food, but had the decency to cover her mouth.

"Excuse me?" viridian eyes flickered back into focus and locked eyes with baby blue. The children had settled the swing debate over a game of rock-papers-scissors. How civil.

"You already have so many certifications for so many job positions. You have a ridiculous amount of majors and minors for someone your age, and now you've started something new again—psychology was it?" Ino swallowed, wiping her mouth. "What's next on your list after psychology?"

The thought perturbed Sakura as unsettling. She always had feelings of unease after letting go yet another subject after completing all that she had to know of the topic. However, her thirst and desire for knowledge was too great to hold her back. "I think this might be the one I'll be sticking with," Sakura grinned.

She received a flat look from her friend. "Bullshit," Ino muttered, "You said that after med school and having a successful year or so working in the top hospitals. Then you just dropped it, like all your other jobs—you finished vet school, law school—hell you took a fucking philosophy class, Forehead."

"Philosophy is interesting," Sakura defended.

"What the hell do you do with a philosophy major anyways? It's useless in this time and age," Ino snorted, taking a large chomp into her sandwich.

"I had fun learning it though," pink eyebrows rose up, "Out of everyone, I would have thought you would understood me best."

"I do," Ino sighed, her shoulders sagging. "I just don't want you to become so overloaded with work. It seems like each job you have makes you drift more and more away from us, Sakura. I'm just worried."

"Don't be," Sakura gave one of her reassuring smiles. They had this same conversation several times. She knew what to say and how to avoid further discussion. "I still call you, text you and email you, right Pig? We have our monthly meetings anyway. I still meet up with Naruto, Sasuke-kun and Kakashi every month as well. I know my limits more than you know."

The scheduled beep from Ino's sleek silver phone interrupted before Ino could retaliate. It meant their short meeting time was over. The blonde haired woman was just as busy as Sakura, and just like the pink haired girl, she also made room in her schedule to be with her childhood friend. Through pursed lips, Ino muttered after shutting off her scheduled reminder, "Promise me you will call more often… I shouldn't have to worry over you like this."

"Then don't," Sakura grinned, waving at Ino, signaling their dismissal and parting of separate directions. This scene was familiar to Sakura. It always happened. They would grab lunch together during their rare days off, have light nonsensical chatter over their lives which eventually led to Ino's always complicated love-life, and then it would end with an enjambment of one-sided worry and concern. It did not bother Sakura as much as it should have. How very sane indeed.

…

Everything about her intrigued him just as much as Sakura was interested in Madara, though she may not show it like he had several times. It was obvious that the older shaggy haired Uchiha held a growing desire for the pastel haired psychiatrist. Everything about her seemed so imperfect and bothersome that made his mind jerk and twist in different science-fiction angles and degrees and yet, there were undeniably perfect features about her that drove him over the edge. The way how only one of her delicate eyebrows rose slightly higher than the other, the strand of hair that always seemed to stick out of her normally perfectly combed hair, her slightly crooked pearly white smile and her pale slender fingers that always had blue or black ink coating the sides of her hands from writing all day.

She was an enigma, a puzzle he wanted to solve and present to the world.

Madara smirked, staring up at the familiar egg shell white ceiling of her office. He had broken out of his tiny room, unbound himself from the straight jacket they often put him in and walked right into Sakura's unlocked office. He had heard her leave for an early lunch break a half an hour ago, and was anticipating this unexpected visit to catch her off guard and surprise her. Unfortunately, he was the only one inside. He may as well take the opportunity to glance around.

The pictures on her desk became familiar to him—especially the one with three other people. Hatake Kakashi, the officer that arrested him months ago, was in leaning slightly over a younger version of Sakura, both of his large hands placed on a blonde haired boy who was a striking image of Minato, and then the other hand was placed on his stoic younger cousin, Sasuke. He raised an eyebrow and glanced back down at the younger version of Sakura. There were no bags under her bright emerald eyes, her pink locks much longer than they were now and her skin sun-kissed. There were no imperfections in this picture other than the men surrounding her.

Quickly flipping the picture down onto her desk so he no longer grew distracted, he swiftly maneuvered to behind her desk to discover the meticulous neatness bestowed before him. Papers were stacked and labeled neatly next to each other opposite of the computer screen, colorful sticky notes placed next to stacks of pencils and pens organized in a tiny container and her small calendar off to the corner where it was left untouched. The temptation to mess it all up made Madara grin evilly, but will power and maturity took over. Instead, he decided to only tilt a couple of the papers, misplace a few of her favorite pens and tear out two random months off of the calendar—just to see if she would notice.

"What's this?" he grinned devilishly, picking up a tiny journal that he often saw her recording in. Opening up, he began to read out loud to himself the contents, "Let's see… 'Dark, long hair with maroon eyes. Often stares at once space during sessions. Not willing to relay more information than he has already. Very predictable—' Excuse me?" Madara glared down at the page. Was he that predictable? Flipping through the journals and skipping the ones that were not about him, his eyes landed on the most recently updated page. Maroon eyes flickered in delight that she had recorded all of his questions that he had managed to ask her as of yet and even bothered to record every detail of his behavior and response.

The scribbled mess on the more recent pages was a vast contradiction to her much more neat and outlined notes from before. Just like herself, everything contradicted. The less she actually thought, the more she seemed disorganized and messy. What a large contradiction to what her life must be.

Glancing up quickly at the time, he muttered to himself that he was beginning to overstay his welcome. He was hoping to catch her before the nurses began to check on the patients as they did every three hours of the day. Placing her journal back in its proper place, he left the room that seemed untouched at first glance.

…

"You entered my office recently." She stated, looking bored as she always did. The two of them were in their normal sessions with her sitting in the cushioned rolling chair across from Madara who began making himself at home by putting his feet up on the low glass table that separated the two. When Sakura arrived back, the first thing she noticed was the unnatural mess and disarray of her desk. It was normally clean and tidy however everything was at an angle and messed up. Strangely, she found pleasure reorganizing everything and replacing the god awful cat calendar that Naruto had given her.

White teeth showed, "And I see you have rearranged everything." Inside, Madara was silently raging at her quiet and unaffected demeanor. Was he really that predictable as she says?

"How was your day?" Sakura asked, not looking up as she titled her journal with the date and usual details regarding Madara's unchanged physical appearance and predictable behavior.

"How was your day, darling?"

The scritch scratch of the pen halted and pink eyebrows raised in the unsymmetrical way that made Madara's spine tingle. Was that how he was going to play at it for the day? "Mimicry is the lowest form of admiration and flattery, but I do appreciate your poor attempt at wooing me."

He could tell she was not up for playing their usual games. "Then let me ask you a real question."

"Madara-san," Sakura sighed, "I already said—"

"Why do you strive to achieve perfection?"

Silence permeated the atmosphere. He looked up to see Sakura in deep thought, actually thinking about his question for a second. For a few minutes, he may have felt as if he actually won this game of theirs. He finally asked a question worthy enough of stumping her.

"Perfection is not attainable," Sakura answered, "But if we chase perfection, we can achieve excellence." There was that glimmer hidden behind her tea green eyes that eventually faded out. She was being mentally worn out after a scolding from her friend Ino recently. The conversations they held always ended the same, however this time it was different. Sakura just didn't have the time and patience to deal with Ino as often as the blonde haired woman would have liked. In no way was she in a mood for dealing with Madara, but protocols and rules must be followed.

Madara continued eager to light that fire in her eyes once more, to see her growth and hunger for digging into the human psyche. "So then you aim to achieve excellence?"

"Uchiha-san," Sakura glared at the man, her patience was running thin. If he was aiming to annoy her then he was crossing over way passed the boundary line reaching far into her frustration. "I am warning you to not test me today; maybe some other day, but not today."

"Why so serious, Sakura-chan?" Madara's smile began to grow into almost a maniacal one. She was so tempted into pushing the tiny emergency button under her desk to alert security, but her hubris and pride would not allow her to. At this point, she would have given up in this game of theirs and have him sent off, but with him? Never. She would not allow him the satisfaction of winning. He continued, "I thought you loved these games, Sa-ku-ra."

"Not today," she retaliated. "Now sit back down before I call in security."

"Such a bluff," Madara snickered, having the courage to glide his way closer towards Sakura who began to sit stiffly. "You should know that I wouldn't buy it. So why even try to begin with? Didn't you say so yourself Dr. Haruno? That I'm so predictable?" he leaned over and whispered into her ear.

So he found her observation journal. A tiny smirk pulled at Sakura's lips—No. She cannot fall into his little play. She understood that he was purposefully provoking her with this close intimacy. As he had said, she believed he was predictable just like all human beings she had come to meet. "It is because you are so predictable that I refuse to play this game with you today." She waved him away, creating a small distance between him and her as she stuck her nose back into her journal, scribbling down more into her journal.

"Am I that predictable?" he asked again, this time with a seriousness façade that made Sakura almost want to laugh.

"You speak your mind. It's obvious and you become predictable after the first few sessions," she explained to him. "You steer away from questions that make you uncomfortable with ambiguous answers followed by similar questions aimed towards me to hopefully drive off the topic about yourself. You hate talking about yourself as surprising as it is for someone as 'high and mighty' as you appear to be. You're like a house cat that claims he is a lion."

Madara could only stare blankly at her for what seemed like the slowest minute anyone could ever experience. Every sentence she spoke, words following after each other made that spark in her being ignite even further to where all he could see was a blaze in viridian green. Her features seemed more prominent and the imperfections were more vivid than before. It irked him—everything about her did. Her short pastel hair, that strand that never seemed to stay down, the now porcelain complexion and ink smeared hands bothered him, but what drove him over the edge was that blazing fire in her eyes.

"So," Sakura muttered, looking back up at him with the tiniest of smirks gracing her lips, "if that is an acceptable explanation for you then I believe your time is up."

She thought he would have gotten up and left, or that he would have asked another question or replied with a witty remark like he always predictably did, but instead he was doing something absurd. Surprisingly soft skin grazed against hers as he captured her lips with his.

"Was that predictable, Sa-ku-ra-chan?"

I hope I'm not rushing things… I was so caught up with updating my other fanfiction that I completely lost touch with this one until I decided to reread the first two chapters (the only two chapters). I'm loving the support for this, and I hope that this chapter has satisfied many of you. The suspense and tension will be back in the next one, I promise you! As you can see, Sakura is beginning to mentally deteriorate and what better time to take advantage than now for Madara?

Reviews are loved and cherished!