Blurred Lines
part vi

The burn of hard alcohol seared Sakura's throat as she pounded back a shot of whiskey. Her glass clinked loudly against the counter as she set it down with more force than necessary and she grimaced against its strong taste before her gaze sought out the bartender again, only too ready for another shot. The effects of the alcohol were already raging through her system, making her feel light and fuzzy around the edges, but it did little to help her mood. Or her temper.

She was angry – beyond furious – but rather than take her fury out by doing something more productive and healthy like a responsible adult, she had marched herself into the very bar she used to frequent with her old partner and ordered a shot of cheap whiskey, something – anything – with some kick. That had been half an hour ago and though she'd had enough alcohol to mostly impair her motor functions, she hadn't had enough to cool her simmering anger.

Tapping her nails obnoxiously against her glass in the hopes to capture the attention of the man behind the bar, Sakura glanced up at the television screen above her only to still her impatient fingers as a preview for the nightly news interrupted the sports game that had been playing. Even without the sound, the familiar picture of her agency's deputy director was enough to let her know what they were reporting as she felt her chest warm with renewed vengeance.

"Another?"

"Yes," Sakura said sharper than she intended, her gaze still glued to the screen.

Normally she would have apologized at being so short with someone who was not the source of her irritation, but she just couldn't bring herself to say the words as she read the caption below the news anchor: 'Deputy Director Danzo dies at age 74'.

It was only because the information hadn't been fully released to the public that it didn't say 'murdered'. The high-ranking member had been found dead in his home earlier that afternoon from what had been originally believed to be a self-inflicted gunshot wound. They would have ruled it a suicide if not for the fact there had been a calling card on the table next to him – quite literally. A single, clean business card had been left behind with nothing written on it; only a picture of a tradition Japanese fan – the symbol of the Uchiha Clan.

Sakura had no doubts Madara was behind the act, that he had ordered the assassination if he had not orchestrated it himself, and the concept that he had struck her agency left her furious, among other things. It seemed that perhaps she didn't know him as well as she had thought she did.

An unconscious glare settled upon her face as the bartender topped off her shot glass again. She reached for it immediately and, just like the rest, threw it back quickly with a slight hiss before she dropped the crystal back onto the bar top as loudly as before. Her finger traced the rim as she stared without seeing at the empty glass, inwardly debating whether she should head home for the night or continue to drown her anger.

Her decision was made before she even fully asked herself the question.

Casting her gaze down the bar, she sought out the bartender again as she felt someone slide into the seat next to her. Absentmindedly she side-glanced at them only to grow rigid as she recognized that mane of silky hair, the aristocratic features, and those eyes of volcanic glass. Madara. Her anger roared.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she spat.

"I came to see you."

"You have some nerve showing your face after what you did today."

He was unfazed by her venom. "The events of today are exactly why I'm here, Sakura," he said calmly. "I need to speak with you."

She scoffed lightly as she suppressed the urge to swing her fist at him. She wasn't entirely sure she was sober enough to make contact and so she purposely cold-shouldered him as she resumed impatiently tabbing her fingers against her glass, her expression murderous. "I don't care what you have to say," she hissed. "Get out of my face before I put a bullet through yours."

Silence briefly met her words as she felt his gaze pierce through her. She could feel him studying her, observing her; then he spoke, his tone that of genuine surprise: "Are you drunk?"

With a roll of her eyes, Sakura turned back to him to match his mildly stunned expression with an annoyed one. "I am in a bar, not that it's any of your concern."

"Of all days to get plastered," he murmured with an impatient sigh. Then he took a deep breath – whether to calm himself or press upon her to importance of his appearance, she didn't know nor did she care. "Sakura," he began, his voice full of forced patience, "I need you to listen to me very carefully-."

"No, I'm not doing you any favors," she interrupted, her expression hard and unforgiving of both him and herself. "You think you can just stroll in here like we're on the same team or something, but we're not. You have your side and I have mine," she said harshly. "I've done enough for you. I should have said no when you asked me to arrest your brother-."

She wasn't given the opportunity to finish her sentence before Madara grabbed her by the arm in a firm grip and dragged her off her stool. It was the first time since she'd entered the bar that she'd stood and now that she was back on her feet, she realized just how intoxicated she was as she was dragged away from the rest of the bar patrons and into a more private, side hallway.

Her world felt off-balance and she stumbled as Madara stopped her to spin her around. Her back hit the wall with some force, but she quickly met his smoldering gaze with a glare. "Do not forget who you are dealing with, Sakura."

His dangerous tone sent shivers up her spine, but she didn't flinch away from him. "As if I could ever forget," she hissed. "You've wheedled your way into my life, manipulating me and pretending to be…" she trailed off, unwilling to name the term she had been warring with herself over for some time. "I don't know…and for what? So you could assassinate my agency's second in command and turn to me for help?"

Madara took a step towards her, his larger frame further trapping her against the wall, and effectively caging her around him, but she refused to acknowledge the way her body warmed in both fear and something else entirely as his tailored suit brushed against her and his familiar scent intoxicated her already hazy senses. With his proximity, she didn't miss the way the edges of his expression were hard in anger, but there was a shadow of something behind his gaze that was far darker and her breath hitched. She was suddenly only too aware of the fact she was unarmed, her gun left at home.

"I may have done much in my time, Sakura, but I never manipulated you into believing I was someone I am not. I am a murderer and a dangerous man, and if you chose to overlook that then that is of no one's fault but your own. But I did not come here to discuss your internal dilemma."

He stepped away from her then, allowing some distance to fall between them and she quietly released the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. Slowly Sakura pushed herself off the wall, her gaze never wavering from his, before she ran her fingers through her tresses, both in an attempted to smooth down the locks and to shake the small tremor in hands. "Then what do you want, Madara?"

His hard gaze softened fractionally, but she could still feel the irritation radiating from him as he spoke: "Your honored deputy director, Danzo, was not as respectable as everyone believed him to be. He was planning a coup, intent on dismantling the task force designed to target and eliminate illegal arms being smuggled in and out of the country."

Sakura crossed her arms as she shot him an irritated and doubtful look. "And why would he do that?"

"For the same reason anyone does: money and paid loyalty," Madara answered, his tone strained as he suppressed his impatience. "He was looking to gain friends in some not-so-friendly places to assassinate key political leaders that had the ability to thwart his attempts to gain power."

"To gain power," Sakura repeated. She was still very much aware of the alcohol coursing through her system, but she cocked her head at him as she pretended to be far more sober than she actually was. "Danzo was a Deputy Director of one of the most important and influential agencies within this country. He was already powerful."

"Not more so than the Director," Madara supplied.

"And you think he was going to have Director Sarutobi Hiruzen, one of my agency's most successful leaders ever, assassinated?"

"I do not think; I know. I have irrefutable intel."

"What intel could you possibly have that is so credible-." She stopped abruptly as the pieces clicked together. She suddenly felt more clearheaded as her earlier suspicions returned and a heavy weight settled in her chest as she stared back at Madara. "You did kill Danzo, didn't you?" she asked quietly.

Madara was unfazed by her direct questioning. "He had information that I required-."

"So you tortured it out of him and then put a bullet through his head," she provided, her voice low.

His eyes were darker than the midnight sky as he observed her silently. She could sense his impatience and frustration simmering just beneath his cool expression and her heart began to hammer out a hard rhythm against her ribs as his gaze pinned her in place. "You seemed to have no objections to my actions before," he murmured quietly.

Sakura immediately tensed in defense. "Orochimaru was a kidnapper and murderer," she hissed.

"And Danzo was a corrupt politician and traitor to his country."

"Then what do you care?" Sakura retorted. "His crimes have no effect on you or your organization-."

"On the contrary, it does," Madara interrupted sharply. "Because the very criminals Danzo was aligning himself with, are people I cannot afford to have power or leverage within this country."

Against her wishes, Sakura felt herself grow curious. She tried to fight back her questions, her interest, but the words slipped off her loosened tongue before she could stop herself, "You're the leader of the Uchiha Clan; your criminal empire is known on every continent. Who exactly is capable of threatening your family into action?"

Her question hovered heavily in the air as Madara's eyes narrowed menacingly. Even in her intoxicated state, she could feel the dangerous waters she was wading into, but if there was one thing she had learned in her experience with dealing with Uchiha Madara, it was if one wanted answers, one could not back down no matter how much he redirected or threatened.

And so, she met his murderous gaze evenly and eventually, to the relief of her pounding heart, Madara relented. "There is another 'criminal empire', as you so termed it, in the west run by the Senju Clan. We have been in conflict with them for many decades. It was their leader, Senju Hashirama, that Danzo was attempting to align himself with and had they been successful, not only would your agency have fallen into the world of corruption, but my clan would have been forced into war as well."

Sakura suddenly understood why Madara had left a calling card with Danzo's body, but whatever reply she was preparing was cut off abruptly as the swinging door at the end of the hall was pushed open. A waitress came through with a stack of plates on her arms, obviously just having come from the kitchen, as she walked down the hall and towards the rest of the bar. She nodded politely at them, obviously uncomfortable with having interrupted their private conversation, and it suddenly struck Sakura that they looked more like an arguing couple than a federal agent and notorious criminal discussing national security.

The thought made the uncomfortable weight on her chest return and she leaned back against the wall for support as nausea briefly overcame her. It felt like she couldn't breath as her emotions twisted and knotted together behind her ribcage.

"Is any of this true?" Sakura asked quietly after her sickness passed.

Madara's gaze returned to her as the waitress disappeared into the bar and she took some comfort in finding his expression unreadable; it was more bearable than the cool anger. "Yes. However, Danzo was just as stubborn as was rumored and he was unwilling to admit to everything," he explained, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

She froze in shock before she felt her rage warm again. "Are you telling me that you not only murdered my agency's director, but you did so without evidence?"

"You will come to find in the criminal world, Sakura, that word-of-mouth is the only evidence needed. It is how we survive," he told her indifferently.

She felt a large lump settle in the bottom of her stomach. His obvious lack of remorse shook her to her core and reminded her for the first time in months exactly who Uchiha Madara was and what it was that he did. She didn't know when she had come to have such a romanticized perception of him, but it felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over her head and she was seeing her whole world clearly for the first time since she could remember.

Swallowing thickly, Sakura held up her hands as though trying to give herself a physical barrier. "You should not have come to me," she said, shaking her head slowly. "You should have left me alone."

"Sakura," Madara sighed.

She tried to step away from him as he reached for her, but in her intoxicated and distressed state, she stumbled. She felt Madara wrap his hand around her upper arm to keep her upright, but she only attempted to jerk away from him again, wanting nothing more than to keep her distance, and he pulled her towards him until her back collided against the wall once more.

The moment her world stilled, she snapped her eyes opened to find Madara was all but pinning her down. His chest was pressed flush against hers as his face hovered inches from her own, their breath mingling. She could feel his body heat soaking into her as the noise of the bar faded and her world narrowed until it was just the two of them.

Her heart hammered against her ribs and her skin broke out into goosebumps as she realized just how intimate their position was. She could feel every inch of his body where it pressed into hers, from their thighs to their chests. His hands were warm against her arms and a pleasured shiver raced up her spin as he trailed his fingertips from her shoulder and up her throat until he cupped her jaw.

Gently he angled her face up to his as his thumb swept across her cheek in a soft caress. There was a softness about his expression and a tenderness in his gaze she hadn't seen before and she closed her eyes as he slowly bent his head towards hers–

"Don't," she breathed, her voice that of the barest of whispers.

Madara froze but she didn't dare open her eyes.

"Please…don't."

A lifetime passed before she finally felt his grip loosen before it disappeared completely. She thought she felt his fingertips trail across her jaw a fraction of a second longer, but with how tightly wound she was, she couldn't be certain and it was a moment more before she finally cracked her eyes open.

Madara was standing only a step away, his expression and gaze void of any emotion as he watched her, silently waiting for her to make the next move. She was nearly shaking as her emotions twisted and warred within her, but her gaze was unwavering as she made her final decision.

"I can't do this anymore. I'm done."

There was no tremor nor quaver in her voice as she spoke. Her words came out strong and unyielding even though they were quietly spoken, and for a long minute, she believed Madara was going to say nothing as his dark, fathomless gaze bore into her.

Then he nodded, his expression indecipherable. "Very well. Be careful, Sakura," he murmured gently. "You may come to find that, perhaps in some instances, we are on the same side."

There was no tone in his voice, only his smooth tenor as his obsidian eyes kept her pinned to the wall. He seemed to be studying her, attempting to come to terms with something she didn't know but after a long, silent moment he nodded politely at her before he stepped away and gracefully made his exit without a backward glance.

She watched him go without a word, watched his familiar figure disappear into the crowd until he was visible no more, but even then she did not return to her stool as she tried to convince herself the pain in her chest had nothing to do with Madara; that her heart was not breaking. Her heart was not breaking.

Her heart was not broken.

tbc…