Chapter 5
Sleep that night was close to impossible when all she wanted was to return to the archives room and binge read everything her ancestor had to offer. Instead, she tossed and turned, sighing irritably as her mind imagined scenarios, just as it had been since discovering their family was actually once a clan of healers.
After internally debating whether she should or not, Sakura had ultimately decided that demanding answers from her father was not the way to go about things. Chances were, he knew next to nothing about their ancestor's tragic life due to the scrolls being written in an ancient Uchiha code. All her father would know about their history were the stories from scaremongering elders who wanted them to remain powerless civilians. And, due to being a scaremonger himself, Sakura didn't doubt his tenacity (perhaps even viciousness) to destroy said scrolls in order to protect their almost entirely civilian family. If others learned the truth, how many of her relatives would want to become shinobi, or despise their parents for refusing their wishes as children?
Sakura was aware that she was probably being way too paranoid and looking into it all too deeply, but for the time being, it was undoubtedly best to simply keep her mouth shut. At least until they knew the truth about her ancestry.
Gods, what if she was somehow related to Uchiha Madara? Forgetting about being the weakest Uchiha alive, Sakura couldn't help but to think it was kind of… Well, amazing. Going from believing she was from a weak civilian family to having the blood of a man feared throughout the nations running through her veins. Not just distantly related to the anyone in Uchiha Clan, but one of the most powerful patriarchs to have ever lived, one who only the Shodai Hokage could stop.
When she finally drifted off to sleep, red and black eyes awaited her, encouraging Sakura to further investigate the history of her family. They never faltered in their watching her, catching any movements she happened to make. She couldn't recall how they got there, or who they even belonged to, but when she awoke, Sakura's mind was made up.
She had to find Shisui.
Well, she found him. But he refused to give in, much to her annoyance. And that annoyance transformed into full-blown outrage when he and his sparring partner rounded on her at her intrusion, almost making Sakura regret her quest for more answers. While she was used to Shisui ambushing her with genjutsu, she'd never actually sparred with him in such a way – never with Itachi, either.
"C'mon, Sakura-chan," Shisui goaded. "As intriguing as these scrolls are, you can't become a shut in in the hopes of reading them all – you still need to train."
Barely ducking in time for his partner in crime to whirl on her, attempting a pin, Sakura was quick to put more distance between them, her features pleading with them both to lay off her for a minute or at least until she caught her damn breath. Of course, they didn't and to ask for as much was asking for the impossible – they were Uchiha, the strongest of their clan. They didn't take breaks or shortcuts.
"Shisui-sensei," she whined with a tinge of desperation, tucking and rolling out of the way of his kick. Then she was forced to lunge to another safe patch of ground, pouting the whole time. "This is hardly fair!"
"You rudely interrupted our spar," was all Itachi said.
"I'm afraid that cannot go unpunished, Sakura-chan."
Squealing suddenly as the once hard ground dissolved into mud that clung to and wrapped around her ankle, attempting to drag her below ground, Sakura's hands expertly slapped together in the release seal, just in time for her to catch the fist aimed for her face.
They were humouring her, of course. Sakura knew they weren't using even a fraction of their strength (wouldn't do so even when fighting individually against her), but it still caused adrenaline to rush through her veins, prompting her almost violent rush forward. Even if it didn't come close to being a warmup to them, it would still push her to her limits and hopefully appease her sadistic sensei.
Damn it, and she'd thought Kakashi was the hardass.
"Fine," she snapped and clenched her fists. "But after this, you're translating the next part to that scroll!"
There was no confusion on Itachi's part regarding the scrolls and it didn't surprise her in the slightest, as he was someone who was somehow always clued in on everything going on around him (well, except for the night Sasuke left the village, for he'd been just as heartbroken and shocked as the rest of them). Sakura couldn't help but wonder what he thought about them, though. Did he believe she could be a descendant of Uchiha Madara? Was he also intrigued?
As expected of the pair of them, they didn't allow her to go on the offensive and Sakura was forced to give ground until her back bumped into a tree and she spun around it just as Itachi's knee slammed into the air where her stomach had once been, pushing away desperately so that they could resume bullying her backwards. At one point, it felt as though her arms were permanently stuck guarding her face and neck, the bruises already forming due to their relentless strikes.
"I'll make a deal with you, Sakura-chan," Shisui called out while she was too busy trying to create distance from Itachi. Much to her frustration, she chose the wrong moment to rush forward (believing she finally had a chance to go on the offensive and make him back off) and became victim to his assault as he caught the back of her vest, spinning her ruthlessly until Sakura's back smashed into the ground, winding her. "Due to how busy I am on missions, Itachi will step in from time to time to decipher your ancestor's scrolls."
"That…" Struggling to breathe and contain her urge to cough, she had to pause in her retort. "…not a… deal."
He appeared before her cockily, with a hand resting on his hip and a smirk on his lips. "Aa. I guess it's not."
Exasperation had her demanding, "What… then?"
Shisui crouched over her, his arms settling over his knees. Had it been anyone else in that position, Sakura normally would have lunged for the weak spot, ramming a knee up into his groin, but it was Shisui. Chances were, he'd already seen it coming.
Raising an eyebrow at her like he could see it already, all humour dropped and he watched her attempting to regain normal breathing before speaking, warning her, "First of all, you're going to drop the bratty attitude."
She pursed her lips.
She was so not a brat!
He held out his hand to her, tugging her into a seating position. "In return for parts of the scroll, you have to train under myself and Itachi."
What? Was he going senile in his old age? Wait, how old was Shisui again? "I already do!"
Itachi was the one to help Sakura to her feet when Shisui merely stood up without her, green eyes narrowing on her sensei in confusion. He was already working on her with genjutsu whenever they had spare time, and the rest of her week was usually overflowing with Tsunade's lessons and work experience in the hospital. Even if she wanted to study further under both Uchiha men, where the hell was she supposed to find the time for that?
"True, but Itachi believes it would be prudent for you to learn some of our signature moves."
She looked to him in shock, heart stuttering. Her? Doing fire style? "Eh?"
"Regardless of whether you are a descendant of Uchiha Madara's, you are tied to our clan and I have no doubts your ancestor learned much while running alongside him," Itachi told her simply. "I find it is only fitting you should be able to do so, too. To acknowledge the connection between us if nothing else."
Wait, did that mean…?
She turned on Shisui without hesitation, her accusation loud and annoyed and making him burst into carefree laughter. "You've both already deciphered the next part!"
An unhappy frown developed on her features when he stepped forward and pulled a clump of who-knows-what out of her hair, smirking. Gods, she didn't even want to look at it, since just catching it out of the corner of her eye made her cringe.
"You can't intimidate me when you look like this, Sakura-chan, although you have made for an entertaining training session."
Training? Training? "You guys tag-teamed a genin. That's hardly training for either of you."
Amusement flitted over Itachi's features, alongside a faint trace of melancholy that had Shisui almost inaudibly sighing, gently steering her attention away from him. For that, Sakura was selfishly grateful, because she knew exactly where his thoughts had headed and for once, she wasn't caught up in her helplessness over Sasuke's desertion of their village and bonds.
"Don't worry, I will speak with Hokage-sama about joint custody of you," he taunted lightly before easing a real concern of hers by adding kindly, "Your training as a medic will always take precedence, Sakura-chan and I will do my utmost to ensure that none of this interferes with it. I still remember your goal and promise to Naruto-kun."
Next time, I'll be stronger!
Next time, I'll help bring Sasuke-kun back!
Damn it. There was the raw unbearable pain she hadn't wanted to feel and Sakura could tell it was beginning to show outwardly, because they each looked to her with understanding and sadness.
"This way…" Itachi eventually managed to murmur to her, his sigh weighed down with his internal agony. "This way you can give my foolish little brother hell for leaving us behind."
Sakura fiercely stomped back the tears, expression attempting pitifully to harden with her resolve. "Right!"
The return to the Uchiha camp was so unbelievably swift she wondered whether she had passed out during the travel, although the continuous aching of her body reminded her that wasn't the case. The boy carrying her was simply that fast.
It was impossible to remain ignorant to the attention they received upon arrival, just as she was unable to meet the suspicious gazes that lingered on them as she was taken straight to the medical tent. It was obvious mere seconds into being there that she stood out sorely – having pink hair amongst a clan where everyone had dark hair warranted the attention, she supposed.
She knew from the moment she entered the tent what it was. It was a far cry from what she was used to, but the stench of alcohol to cleanse utensils with and the sight of piles of freshly cleaned bandages told her all she needed to know. In her clan, they held no real need for bandages or operating utensils – their chakra was capable of healing any wounds and the elite of her clan was even able to cut through skin and muscle with chakra scalpels. Sadly, it was not a technique she had the chance to learn yet. Or ever, she supposed.
Her rescuer didn't leave her in all that time, rather choosing to remain standing at the entrance of the tent with his arms folded across his chest and chin dipped, his gaze lidded, though she wasn't entirely sure whether she found his presence comforting or unnerving. Yes, he saved her life, but she couldn't say as of that moment if she was grateful for it or not. A great part of her wanted to join the rest of her clansmen, even though it meant the extinction of the Haruno Clan.
It wasn't until the man she presumed to be the patriarch entered abruptly that he straightened, growing more alert. The only reason why she presumed him to be the patriarch was due to the menacing aura surrounding him, the kind that alerted others to his presence before he even spoke up to announce himself. Had she not been so lost in her grief and overwhelming longing to join her clan, perhaps she would have feared him more in that moment.
"Name?" was the first thing he said to her.
"Haruno Mao, sir," she responded politely, trying to hide her wince when the barely skilled medic wrapped her burns too roughly.
As others in her clan had always suspected: the skills of medics in other clans were severely lacking – some even dared to say they were teetering on the edge of being downright medieval. In what world did a medic slap on a bandage after merely cleansing a burn with water? Where on earth were the medic's ointments? Mao wished she could complain, but as she'd thought earlier, to complain about how one was being rescued was churlish and she knew her parents would be ashamed of her for it.
Dark eyes were fixated on hers for the longest time, and she could feel her rescuer watching closely too, the combined attention making her acutely aware of her indecency as the medic continued to wrap her stomach. No, they were not looking at her in the way the attackers had the women of her clan, in fact they never looked away from her gaze, but the mere notion of them witnessing her in such a way was…
"What happened?"
Mao swallowed at that, only to become mindful of her uncomfortably dry throat as it burned in response, undoubtedly from smoke inhalation. Still, she would have to persevere, she thought to herself.
"I am unsure," she replied honestly, quietly. The horrors she had witnessed were blaringly painful, though simultaneously, impossible to process. "They attacked so fast – much too fast for a clan of healers to follow. Even my father and brothers were unable to…"
Her rescuer's eyes narrowed fractionally, brows coming together for the briefest of moments until they smoothed out.
"Was your father the patriarch, Chiharu?"
Despite instinct telling her not to, she shut her eyes at the sound of his name. "Yes, sir."
There was a muttered curse, followed by, "Madara. Explain to me what you saw."
"Carnage," came his seemingly simple, but disgustingly staggering response. Mao could not bring herself to open her eyes for she was much too busy attempting to remain in control of her breathing. "It seems she is the only survivor."
"Were there any traces?"
"None, that I know of. I found it prudent to bring the last Haruno healer here, rather than allowing her to fall into an enemy's hands."
"Your team?"
"As you already know, Izuna returned to relay the news to yourself. The rest of our team are thoroughly searching through what is left."
There was no use in hoping that his team found more survivors – Mao already knew everyone was dead. She had searched for as long as her body could carry her, calling out to her clansmen despite the smoke filling her lungs, but each time there was no answer. All she saw were body parts, blood and devastation.
"Return to their camp and collect all valuables, assuming it has not already been looted," the patriarch ordered of Madara, his tone grave. "Gather anything this child will need to continue on her path to becoming a healer."
How…
How could she possibly…?
Opening her eyes, she found Madara already looking her way, his dark gaze unreadable as he assessed her broken, dirtied features.
"Are there any belongings in particular you require?"
Any possessions seemed so horribly inconsequential, for she would much rather have her clan than material objects. Alas, that was agonisingly not possible.
Hand coming to her collarbone, she murmured, "My father… He gifted me a necklace for my birthday – it is a Sakura pendant and is an heirloom passed down to the daughters of the patriarch. I believe I lost it during the struggle."
Madara nodded and left without another word, shockingly taking an unbelievable amount of the strength she had left with him.
"Rest, Haruno," ordered the patriarch.
"Forgive me, but what am I to do now?" she couldn't help but ask, heart sinking.
"For now, you are to focus solely on recovering. We will discuss your next steps once you are healed."
"I feel so bad for her," Sakura mumbled with a sigh, leaning back against a tree trunk.
Reading the tragic past of her ancestor was much easier when sitting outside, the open space of the training grounds combined with the gentle breeze and sounds of the forest behind her, aiding in relaxing Sakura when it all became too much.
What must that have felt like? She couldn't help but allow her mind to wander into such dark territory. How helpless had Mao felt after losing her entire clan? To suddenly be surrounded by what sounded like an uninviting clan that was an ally to her own, though still shrouded in a bloody past and present that had no intentions of changing? If the Uchiha clan wasn't exactly welcoming of outsiders in her own time, how had they reacted to her presence in an era filled with war and battles for territory? Or was her being a medic a bonus in their eyes?
"Would you like to take a break?" questioned Itachi from his reclined position against the same tree, except he was to her right and facing a different direction to herself. Due to the girth of the trunk, their shoulders didn't even come close to brushing, but his presence was still felt and appreciated. "We can work on jutsu for a while."
"I think…" Inhaling deeply and once more feeling thankful for the fresh air, Sakura shut her eyes, grip tightening on the scroll. "Could we talk for a short while first? I feel a little…"
She couldn't find the right word that best described how she was feeling, as everything that came to mind sounded grossly inadequate. All Sakura could do was shake her head, just barely managing to suppress the shudder running up her spine.
"Of course," Itachi responded gently, much to her gratefulness. "Shisui shouldn't be too long with lunch."
It took several long moments to find a topic to discuss, as many of the ideas that came to mind ran the risk of running into dangerous territory that would no doubt depress the hell out of the pair of them. She couldn't risk that, not when they were already exploring such a tragic history that continuously turned her stomach.
Sighing once more, she spared a glance over her shoulder at him, watching as he considered the wound up scroll in his grasp. "Yesterday, Shisui-sensei mentioned that your clan would be thrilled to hear I'm a descendant of Madara's – obviously, I know already that he was being sarcastic, but it got me wondering. How would they react?"
He hummed thoughtfully at that, gaze distant. "It is difficult to tell. The clan disowned Madara despite his being patriarch, for they believed he was guiding them down a self-destructive path. Many wished to step away from fighting for territory, and he was trying to drag them back into such ways."
That was a part of Uchiha Madara's history that they weren't taught in the academy. The most they learned about him was the treaty that was set up by him and Hashirama, then his destroying the treaty when the other man was made Hokage, and he wasn't. Iruka seemed to enjoy telling the class the story of their battle, for it was a good opportunity to express the importance of the Will of Fire and how it came to be, in terms of their village.
"The others?" she asked.
"Others happened to be devout followers of his and found some inkling of sense in his beliefs of their being ostracised and subdued, especially after Nidaime-sama created systems such as the police force."
"But…"
Frowning, Sakura rolled up the scroll and carefully handed it over to Itachi when he reached over his shoulder for it, keeping it with the original. To protect any potential secrets from being exposed, they were both to remain with either Itachi or Shisui at all times. The decoded version couldn't even return to the archives, just in case.
"Wasn't that the whole reason why Madara left?" Sakura questioned naïvely, frown deepening. "I mean, I know it's not the same as being Hokage, but surely being given a position of power like that appeased them?"
"You would think," he murmured.
Weird, she couldn't help but think. So, Madara was disowned for wanting more power and disliking being brushed aside, in a sense, then as soon as the clan was given a position of power, they believed they were still being ostracised? Was she missing something? How the hell did they work that one out?
"Back to your question," Itachi continued before she could ask any further questions, silently telling her that it was possibly a touchy subject and leading Sakura to briefly wonder if he felt the same way as Madara's followers. "Those who follow Madara's beliefs may very well leap at the chance to have someone from his bloodline lead the clan back into a position of power. They may even manipulate you into taking such a position, despite your not possessing the sharingan or any qualities of an Uchiha."
Sakura's eyes widened comically, and she swiftly spun onto her knees to face him directly, snapping when she saw the teasing glint in his usually composed eyes, "That's not funny, Itachi-san!"
He cracked a small smirk, completely unperturbed by her closeness or disbelief. "The chances of that happening are slim, bordering on non-existent."
"Don't tease her, Itachi," came the sudden chuckling of Shisui as he rejoined them. Dropping to the tree opposite his cousin, he settled the bag of food between them, their outstretched legs parted like some kind of barrier. "Or torment me, for that matter."
"Torment?" she repeated.
Sakura shuffled closer to the food, watching as Shisui took three containers out of the bag alongside packaged chopsticks. It smelled delicious, the tantalising scent almost enough to take her mind away from the horrors she'd both read and heard.
"Well, it would certainly create a great deal more work for me," he informed her in a light tone. "Especially considering I would no doubt have to step in to save my student like a good sensei."
What Sakura wanted to say was that she didn't need saving, that she was growing stronger now and could fight for herself and her own freedom. However, she wasn't naïve enough to believe she could go up against Uchiha – not yet anyway. There was no telling how powerful they were, or whether their sharingan possessed any mind altering techniques like Shisui's did.
"As I was saying, the chances are basically non-existent," Itachi continued in a more reassuring tone, ensuring to meet her eye to get his point across. "Not only because the majority outweigh those few, but also because I don't see my father willingly stepping down as patriarch."
"And we all know how stubborn Fugaku-sama can be," Shisui threw in.
Wait, so if Madara and his lineage were the rightful leaders of the clan, then what did that make Itachi and his family? Clearly, by that point, Itachi was the rightful heir – or was he? Would the appearance of a blood relative of Madara's strip him of that right? Sakura resisted the urge to pull her hair out. She'd never been any good with those kinds of situations or following positions of power when it was all askew in such a way.
"Try not to stress over it too much," Shisui told her with a more caring tone. He handed her the lunch he'd picked up and she sighed heavily, prompting him to say, "Itachi and I agreed that we wouldn't share any findings unless they catastrophically impact the clan. Even then, I doubt if the findings would go any further than Fugaku-sama and Mikoto-sama."
Not stressing was easier said than done when her mind was filled with paranoid thoughts, all lingering about potentially being manipulated into taking charge. What if they tried that? Yes, she didn't possess the sharingan or any other Uchiha qualities like Itachi stated, but they could always force her to marry, couldn't they? What if they thought the potential of Madara's blood running through her veins too good an opportunity to pass up?
"Sakura-san," Itachi called out gently. "On the off chance something does happen, you have our word that we will not allow anything to happen to you."
That was… definitely more reassuring, Sakura allowed with a shaky sigh. She nodded her thanks, trying her best to ignore the uncomfortable twisting of her stomach when she caught sight of the scrolls next to Itachi.
A/N - For anyone who's wondering, the name Mao means dance of the cherry blossom!
Thank you to everyone who's been supporting this story so far!