Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of it's affiliates.

This fiction will contain dark, adult themes. If that makes you uncomfortable, do not continue reading.

thank you for reading~

M

NSFW

You Are My Fate

Past, pt 12

Witches and Whispers

Uchiha Stronghold
Feudal Japan

"If you think the elders will let this go, you're thoroughly mistaken."

It was the same argument, once again.

"You need another hobby, Izuna. Fretting over the elders like a mother hen when you have a new wife is unbecoming."

A pause.

"I'll take your thanks in the form of a spar, by the way."

Never one to falter, Izuna didn't let his mask slip. "This is not what was agreed upon after father's death. When you became head, we were promised revenge. It's compromising that the elders remember this, yet you do not."

"Our clans will wager war forever if no one puts an end to it. We've secured the western border, I have a heir on the way. Tobirama will be excommunicated. The Senju will not be able to reproduce, sans a child from Mito who has proven to be barren. We've won. What more could their pinched faces be upset about?"

As the sun waned over the rolling hills, Izuna leaned against a tree in the shade, watching his brother warily. "I still don't trust the witch."

Madara loosened his grip on his sword, sweat rolling down his neck. Hair tied up, he secured a threatening look at his brother, sword now pointed at him, "call her a witch again."

His younger brother pushed himself off of the tree, "you've disobeyed them and the council by pushing these negotiations. It's blood for blood. We've spilled ours in this war, which seems to me was procured by you to get your wife back from Tobirama, not about the transgressions the Senju smeared against the villages before the treaty. Need I remind you that you released the rat bastard that killed our father."

That gave Madara pause, his sword still pointed at his brother. If the accusation bothered him, he didn't allow it to show, "what you're suggesting is treason."

Izuna took a step forward, pressing two fingers against the cool blade, "since you've met her, it seems that loss has been our peril. You've lost all sense. It turns out she was deemed valuable being of the Uzumaki, yet you still let a woman's heart speak into your ear at night."

"She does much more than speak," Madara attempted to beguile laughter from his brother. His sword blinked in the setting sun. He refused to get sloppy in this downtime. After the ambush, the wedding — he needed the sun on his back, needed to hear the clanging of metal. With his sword, there was a natural assurance of his life, most times his life only made sense when there was a sword in his hand. For so long his worth was wrought in his training.

It did not phase his brother, who merely stepped away. "There are whispers, brother."

That caused Madara to pause.

Izuna looked around, to make sure the prying eyes in the training yard would not relay their conversation, "some within our clan do not think you're befit to lead. They want the end of the Senju, not allow the opportunity for them to revive. They want Hashirama's head, they know that witch controls your motives."

Fist closed, Madara lunged forward - punching his brother square in the jaw. Towering over him, the sheer force of the hit sent Izuna strewn across the floor. Without hesitation, Madara put his boot on his brother's neck, his sword now touching his younger brother's chest, a feral calm came over him. The black dread made an appearance, the man that controlled an army at his fingertips, "I told you to not call my wife a witch."

Izuna seethed beneath him, his lip curling in an ugly snarl, "I stand by the truth, brother! Their whispers are true! She controls you, as she's done since the day you picked her off that auction with the other whores she belonged to. Only a witch could do the things she can! Her cunt must be sublime, no? They speak on how you've sacrificed a generation of Uchiha for that cunt!"

By now his brother was yelling, crowing with an anger that made Madara bristle.

"-We've made this stronghold a home because you needed her brought back here! You hired the Jashinist to retrieve her. You're a fool if you think we don't know you've made a generation of Uchiha children fatherless, FOR HER!"

Madara dropped down, his fists connecting with his brother's face.

Again and again.

The sickening crunch was the sound of either a knuckle breaking or a jaw being dislocated.

Amongst the blood that stained his hands, a white rage coursed through him.

"Let them whisper!" Madara seethed, mania overcoming him. He laughed when his brother began to go limp. He leaned forward when his brother's face was unrecognizable, "I'll kill anyone that speaks of treasons against my wife and I. I'll stand on a pile of my family's corpses if anyone tries to rebel. The only reason you're alive right now is because we come from the same womb and I still hold the sentiments of our late mother's heart."

When he stood, Izuna lay in a heap on the floor.

Madara turned to leave, let the other soldiers pick him up.

By now a crowd formed, having watched the ordeal with keen eyes.

His clansmen who praised him.

You will protect this clan one day, Madara.

It's a shame you have your mother's heart.

Our name will need to be remembered, do not forget that.

Madara grasped his sword, blinking back the words of his father. He pointed it to the circle of men in the distance that fanned around them, "does anyone else have concerns?"

He turned slowly, poised — like an archangel that emerged from hell, ready to destroy mountains. All of his men avoided his gaze, not wanting to step in line with his wrath.

When no one said anything, Madara turned back to his brother who coughed up blood. Silently, he watched his brother lift himself up, the same harry smirk revealed white fangs through his scarlet mouth, "you'll…regret this one day, brother. When you think you're safe, when you have your babe in your arms — you'll know she was a mistake when everything is ripped from you. One day you will set aside your pride and beg."

The curse made his hair raise, it felt akin to the words the beautiful cloaked woman told him on the night when the storm gutted several trees from their roots and made the walls shake from the wind's ferocity. For a brief moment he imagined impaling his younger brother. Someone must have noticed this, because one on their cousins surged forward, "please stop, Madara-sama. It is hot, Izuna-san is clearly suffering from the heat."

It was a lame attempt.

Without word the clan leader left. Behind him he could hear the soft murmur's of his soldiers. One of the captains signaled the bell, ordering his men to get back to their training.

That night he clawed through his trunks and dressers, searching for the vile the woman gave him. When his fingers touched the cool glass, Madara turned the vile over. It's dark substance churned within the glass. This vile provided him a thin veil of safety. Sakura entered shortly after, a small frown marring her face. He slipped the vile back into it's hiding spot, hoping his wife didn't notice. When she asked him about what happened, Madara waved it off as a spat between brothers. That's all it was. All it could be. Later into the night, his brother's words echoed in his head when he held Sakura close to him, his body curled around her own.

Madara closed his eyes, pressing his forehead between her shoulder blades.

All night the woman's curse imprinted on him.

'You will lose everything dear to you, and will continue until you understand the decisions you make affect a continent. The great houses will fall, and yours will be first. Your family's power has reached too far. There will come a day when you must set aside your pride and beg."

—

The next morning he woke in a sweat, prophecy suffocating him. The crow sat on it's perch by their window, it's wings fluttering in excitement.

After his altercation with Izuna, he spent the day in the library. He sent his best healers to help his younger brother, apologizing to their mother for hurting her youngest son. He kneeled before the alter for his family that night. Praying for the people he lost. His thoughts traversed through the memories of his younger brothers, of his mother and father. Was there ever a time of peace? He supposed yes, there was. His people deserved it, not because Sakura garnered it into his head, but because those talks with Hashirama on the cliffs in the west - their idealistic whims where one day people didn't have to live in fear. They both craved peace after so much war. War plagued their families for so long.

His ideals never changed, the circumstances did.

He held those convictions in his hand since he was a child.

It shamed him to feel guilt over the matter.

Kazuya said Izuna would recover well enough, though he would need dream wine to keep him unconscious, to allow his body to recover. His brother's eminent warnings were something he could not take lightly.

His heart may have changed, but his clan craved war.

Their bloodlust knew no bounds.

In good conscience he could not subjugate the common folk within his ward to starvation. The western rogues were still pillaging and raping — what would be left if he were to continue this war? Though it still poised the issue of the ambush.

A year ago he would have completely eradicated the Senju. He did not fear the afterlife with his decisions, he knew hell would welcome him. Which is why he made a promise to use whatever time he had left in this life to make Sakura happy.

To keep their child safe.

A string tugged his attention towards Sakura who was curling her wrist — tendrils of sapphire emitting from her fingers.

The crow and Madara watched her in tandem, intrigued.

By the lightness in his bones, the tattoos slapped across her pale skin, and the silence of the world — he knew she was practicing with her power. He watched her much like the crow. Unabashed. Beguiled.

"Your brother is right. I am a witch," Sakura said calmly when she noticed he was awake. With pregnancy her skin glowed, he noted.

Madara shifted upwards, lips a thin line, "how do you know about that?"

She paused, the green sapphire blowing out like a stolen flame, "if these walls could talk, they would. I'm married to the most powerful man in Japan. Everything you do is scrutinized. Hidan joined me in the library and told me what happened this morning…" Sakura stood to pace across the floor until she faced him.

"Your brother…He hates me still, doesn't he?"

"Fear not of my brother, he's a fool."

"Yet he speaks truth. Am I not a witch? The women of Kanazawa were deemed mystics, which is why they've been subjugated for so long. It's why they always went into hiding. They took the only protection they could get when they traveled to the Uzumaki lands. I hear it…In the halls, in the way your people look at me like I've stolen something from them."

A feigned silence ensued.

Before she could speak again, Madara cornered her against the wall — his hands braced against either side of her.

"They only know of your affiliation with the Uzumaki. Your village was safely harbored until the western rogues bit back on that land. You may have the marker of the Kanazawa women, yet those old tales are only told by fanatical wet nurses and decrepit elders."

She chewed on his words, "your people wonder. What if…"

"Let our people wonder." He cut in.

"-You are now the matriarch of the Uchiha clan. You're like nothing they've seen before." Even now, with the morning rays of light filtering through the room, it highlighted the freckles peppered across the bridge of her nose. Her hair was growing long once again, full and thick.

Madara allowed himself the reprieve of inhaling her scent, "perhaps you are a witch, because you've taken me body and soul." His hand skimmed down the length of her body, he began to nuzzle her neck — ghosting his lips across her chin. His other hand skimmed across her growing belly, a whimpered groan pulled from him. The fact that she was growing their child made him painfully hard.

A tightness in his loins made him jerk against her.

Sakura stopped him, an agitated scowl on her face, "we need to talk about this. I can sense…It feels like something is wrong."

With pleading eyes, his wife looked up at him — she bore through his soul with those damnable eyes. Madara let her go from the wall, a frustrated sigh dousing his erection.

"What ails you, darling?"

Sakura turned towards the window, the crow cocked it's head, cawing loudly at her. "Last night you were mumbling in your sleep. You carry shadows with you in regards to the clan. With peace on the horizon there should be no reason your brother is still willing to fight a war that's already won."

He milled over telling her the truth of the matter — of the prophecy that plagued him. Ever one to notice body language, he looked down at her hand that lay protectively over her belly. He refused to put further stress on her or their child. Since she came back, he promised to keep her safe. This information would only ail her. He would shield her from the madness in his clan.

"Izuna claims there's whispers of descent amongst the men in my clan. He thinks that since he's now married, it gives him right to speak above me. I've been too lenient on him for too many years."

"You don't believe him?"

"There will always be whispers. If I worried about the will of each man questioning my decisions, I'd put myself into an early grave. My father ruled this clan with an iron fist. He didn't lose sleep over the decisions he made. It's best they remember I am my father's son."

Some of his earliest memories were of his father bidding the execution of treasonous family members. Or excommunicating those from the table that were deemed to be an annoyance.

At the mention of his father, he catalogued the way her body went stiff.

"My family grew up in war, my ancestors have passed down their thrill of it. For generations we have not known but small bouts of peace. If I don't come to negations and put a stop to the madness within my clan, it will never end. They will soon come to find out that peace is what we need." Once upon a time he craved the chaos, the blood. With a child on the way, he wanted to create a world that would harbor safety for the kin of his clan. If there was one thing Izuna had the right of — too many Uchiha lives had been lost to the Great War.

His explanation seemed to placate her, for now.

"Then what of the dreams you've been having? You were in a cold sweat last night." This time she walked up to him, hands cradling either side of his face. As he towered over her, he kept his hands to himself — allowing her to excavate his soul. From here, he could see her love for him — how it made her eyes shimmer in concern for him. He leaned into the softness of her palm. Gently, he cradled her wrists in his hands. Madara didn't like to keep things from her, but this was not the time to tell her. Distracting, soft kisses pressed against her inner wrists, eliciting a small gasp from Sakura.

She blushed then, "please tell me—" He placed a kiss on her forehead, her yin seal flaring approvingly.

When he began to kiss her neck, her concerns weakly died, succumbing to soft cries. Her tattoos became a brilliant dark purple, his love for her igniting the match of her power.

The conversation ended when he lifted her up and set her on the bed.

Madara spent the early morning feasting on his wife's cunt.

—

Senju Manor
West end

The claws of dawn reached across the valley floor, sweeping across the wild landscape that the Senju prided themselves on. Light peaked over the mountains, waking the birds so they could begin their morning songs. In the dusk of dawn, an omniscient fog settled over the manor, perhaps reflecting the mood of it's inhabitants.

Tobirama Senju toyed with the pink ribbon in his hands.

Before his father's shrine, he sat on his knees on a tatami mat — bowing, praying for answers from previous generations. Soon, he would be stripped of everything. His name, his birthright, his family.

'Father, I ask of you to please guide me — tell me what I need to do.'

Before, the answers were there in his grasp.

Since he woke up along side the main vein that connected the east and west, it felt as if something important had been stripped of him. He couldn't place what it was, or why it gnawed at him in his dreams. Although his body has healed from his imprisonment, his mind became a shadow without the sun.

Nonexistent.

In the deepness of night there's a waterfall, there's a woman moaning atop of him, and there's a starlight of pink.

"Tobirama," Hashirama greeted.

The younger brother did not turn to look at him. He swept his eyes over to the windows, revealing the sacred land they grew up on. Even within the shrine of their home, the lake called to him. Likes to likes. When he wasn't forging a war path with his brother, he spent his time there. Nothing could tell him why.

"I figured I would find you here." A large hand gripped his shoulder, the comfortability between brothers couldn't soothe him, not anymore. Hashirama got on his knees beside him. He lit one of the many candles decorating the table.

He remained silent, and didn't have to wait long until Hashirama sighed, "we were able to broker peace negotiations…I still can't fathom why you would send a squad to ambush Madara and his men."

This same conversation.

As if the blistering heat weren't enough, the humidity was gathering sweat along his neck, "I saw an opportunity to kill the man that took Itama away from us."

"You will kill us all with these dangerous thoughts," Hashirama warned, "I should have locked you away in the dark cells for going against my command. How does that fare with our soldiers? Having a younger brother that disobeys him and costs more lives!"

It was rare when his brother got this angry.

"This war is already lost," Tobirama lamented, staring forward — still hoping for an answer from someone.

"It's only lost once we're dead."

The white leopard bristled, "do you really think Madara and his men will stop at my excommunication? They're blood hungry savages! They'd rather kill themselves than see us alive, and you know it."

Two brothers faced each other, haggard and ravaged by a war that sucked the soul out of them. Without the bridge, the war would have already been lost. It was their only saving grace. Madara's wedding and recovery afforded them enough time to reinforce their strength. Yet, that also meant the Uchiha were allowed the time to heal.

"Once upon a time — Madara and I shared a common vision for the world. His father and brothers corrupted that vision, but I have hope it's still there. I would like to believe that negotiations this time will put an end to this tragedy that's plagued our land."

Tobirama glinted his eyes, refusing to believe the poetic words his brother spoke, "he almost died last time negotiations were brought forth, they won't allow him to come again without killing one of us."

A silent rage broiled within Hashirama, he stood suddenly. "If you weren't as addicted to vengeance as that clan — this war would have been over with! I could have brokered a better life for you! I wouldn't have to worry that the Uchiha will kill my wife! Now I have to come to terms that I will no longer have a brother or a heir!"

The words slapped him.

Tobirama remained planted on the floor, his jaw so tight it felt like his teeth may break.

Unlike their ancestors they could not afford to lie. The lies from the past sowed the path for the Great War. Hashirama was a man of his word, the Uchiha and especially Madara knew this. As irate as Tobirama felt, this was solely his fault. His hateful ambition caused this.

Slowly, he raised himself from the mat.

Time seemed to slow down, in another life he would have felt his heart break. Not now, not when he couldn't remember the true loss that seemed so far out of reach, "then I'll leave on the 'morrow." Against all of his bad decisions in life, this choice would benefit them all. "Once I'm gone, you and Madara will reach an agreement. I-"

Hashirama grimaced, neither were able to speak.

Words didn't befit the situation.

So instead Hashirama pulled his younger brother into a bear hug, holding him tight.

"In another life, I pray we're brothers again."

Tobirama pulled away first, simply nodding. He was never a child of many words, and a man of many less. With a brother that spoke for the lot of them, there was no need. Even now. Their mother always keyed him to have the biggest heart, which he attested heavily with. He grabbed at the pink cloth, wondering it's significance.

His brother rubbed at his forehead, "I still don't understand how you've forgotten her."

"Madara Uchiha's wife, you mean."

"Her name is Sakura…"

"….You loved her. It's why that lake calls you. You guys did not have much time together, but some people never get to meet their soul mate. In that respect, I find that you are luckier than most men."

That blank spot in the void of his memory flickered like the birth of a fire.

Until the wind swept it away, throwing dust over his attempt to reach it.

"Would I have wed her?" Tobirama wondered, fingers clenching onto the pink ribbon.

His brother took his time answering the question, mulling on the right words. "I believe you would have given her the universe."

"Would she have done the same for me?"

Hashirama gave his brother a knowing face, "I think she already has."

'Please, Tobi.'

He whipped around, it felt as if the voice were in his skull. The wind blew through the shrine, clanging the wind chimes around them. The remaining Senju brothers stood still. They held their breath as the wind flickered the candles, beckoning them to listen. That voice…The voice that called to him in his dreams. The same voice that begged for his forgiveness. He spun around, the chimes continuing to fiercely echo around them.

Was this his answer?

The voice put shadows of a face into his mind, projecting pink and starlight.

Or perhaps it was their mother, lost long ago to to the wars their family sought to win. Tragedy followed this family like a curse, it still felt like his brother's body lay warm under the ground. Yet again, the thought of those bastards stealing their younger brother from them irked a blind rage for the Uchiha.

He would kill him.

Hashirama could easily decipher the train of thoughts coursing through his head, "I will further plead for your return with Madara. Once the treaty is signed, you need to stay safe somewhere, Tobi. Take what you need to find happiness and safety, understood?" No longer the jovial, insightful man that loved to gamble with his comrades, this version of Hashirama reminded him of their father.

Fearful of this being their last goodbye, Tobirama Senju gave the slightest tilt of his head before he left the shrine.

And much like when he was younger, he never listened to their father.

—
Uchiha Stronghold

The aroma of hot tea wafted into the air, spilling the scent of mint and honey. Sakura pressed the cup to her lips, appreciating the aerial view on the hill that over looking the compound. A scenic view of plush grass and arching mountain ranges ranged for miles ahead of the two women milling about the hillside.

Hanabi Hyuga kept her cards close to her chest, never revealing too much. Lately she was much more quiet, normally she flitted around the compound with the glow of happiness radiating off of her. Sakura noted that she was a kind girl, though that vault of happiness seemed to be sealed.

Since her husbands altercation with his younger brother, Sakura saw to it that she make more friends within the clan. What harm could it bring? Hanabi and herself crossed paths fleetingly, with shared smiles and a deep bow from the Hyuga heiress. A gentle wind caressed their cheeks, allowing the two women to take in the refreshing scent trailing up from the citrus plants down the hill.

Although her dreams consisted of Tobirama Senju, Sakura was determined to fix what she could here. That morning Madara, Izuna, and many of the close clan members went on a hunting trip to boost moral. It had the added benefit of bringing the men closer together. Which allowed Sakura with ample opportunity to make friends.

I'm no witch.

"Are you feeling any ailments with the baby?" Hanabi tested the waters of conversation.

"Other than some nausea, I find that pregnancy has been kind to me thus far." Sakura smiled fondly down at her belly, feeling stronger than ever in her womanhood.

"You two will make lovely children," Hanabi mused longingly, "I hope I can bring Izuna many sons, and soon."

Sakura chuckled lightly, blowing on her tea to cool it down, "I assume he's been quite eager."

This brought a fierce blush to the younger woman's cheeks, "sometimes I need to fight him off…" her voice trailed off, as if the lightness in her voice was stolen from her.

It perked Sakura's curiosity. She set her tea down, hands folded on her lap within her kimono.

It may be the memory of seeing Izuna's battered face that subdued her, "I know our husbands may not see eye to eye sometimes," Sakura mused, "but I do hope we can be friends. Other than Mira…I find myself rather lonely."

Which was true, her days consisted of varying intervals of journaling, gardening, healing at the village, and spending her time with Madara. Very much unlike her time of training or traversing back to the east. For a moment in time, she was an independent woman, not a forlorn princess kept to a castle.

Hanabi became hesitant, as if the rumors her husband planted within the compound swirled within her head, "Mira?"

"My handmaid, though I prefer to use the term friend."

That piqued the Hyuga's interest, "so the rumors are true. I hear your kind to the servants. That's not normal for the matriarch of the clan. I once heard Izuna mention you remind him of Marise-sama."

Marise…

Sakura remembered the clan matriarch arrived her first summer with Madara in a flurry of robes and raven hair. She remembered pale, milky skin and a button nose adorning the woman's face. Most of all, she remembered the dark, purplish color of her eyes, truly becoming a raven-esque beauty.

The enigma that was Madara's mother passed by the concubine quarters what felt like an eternity ago. On that fatefully dreary day, Tajima forbade Madara to ever host the thought that they would have a future together. He threatened to forsake his titles and pass them on to Izuna. The anger of that day shook the Uchiha compound, all servants bowing their heads low to avoid the wrath of any figureheads.

The news reached her before Madara's newfound anger did. When she tried to stifle her tears, a polite knock came to the door. Half expecting it to be one of the other girls, her heart plummeted to her stomach when the matriarch of the Uchiha clan swayed into her room. Sakura dropped to her knees in a low bow, half-expecting to be beaten or called a witch. Surely, she would be sent away. "M-Marise-sama!" She would probably be told to pack her things and be passed onto the next clan, or killed.

Instead, Marise came close to her and got on her knees. "No need for such honor, we're both simply women, no?"

Tear streaks stained on her cheeks, Sakura went rigid when Marise gently scooped up her hands to draw her forward. They were now on an equal level on their knees. This was unheard of. "I apologize for intruding like this…I know you've probably heard through the doves here about the future involving my son and yourself."

Lamely, all Sakura could muster up was a nod.

"Even though it's not a favorable outcome, I would like to thank you for warming my son's heart, I can clearly see he cares for you."

A pit in her stomach coiled at the thought of her catching them lounging among the cherry blossom orchards.

"…I'm afraid his heart may be too gentle for this clan. Izuna…He has the temperament for it. I believe Madara can be that difference in this world…Though fate has a funny way of deciding things, no?"

There, on their knees — Marise Uchiha cupped either side of Sakura's face, "truly — thank you. I think in another world, you two could be together."

Too stunned to speak, Marise stood them both up. The matriarch studied Sakura's face, as if memorizing her. She silently studied Sakura's seal on her forehead, as if she knew the secret Sakura didn't know about herself yet. "I'll speak with Tajima-sama, I believe you're quite beneficial to this clan. There is no reason you should be put out into the wilderness for having a man fall in love with you."

Finally finding her voice, all she could limply muster was a soft, "thank you, Marise-sama."

The older woman smiled, thumbing a strand of her hair, "please don't let this clan kill my son, don't let them kill what I know is inside of him."

Before Sakura could question her further, before she could understand the enormous weight of this conversation, Marise left her.

Which is why Sakura was allowed to stay within the compound. Which is why Sakura hoped that things would change. Which is why Sakura still loved Madara so fiercely, even when his anger blinded him.

Sakura frowned, lips thinned in annoyance at the onslaught of the memory, "it should be. These people take care of us."

Hanabi titled her head, perhaps wondering what memory was conjured after that statement. "I agree."

She switched gears, opening up to Sakura, "It's hard as an outsider to make friends with the women of this clan. There hasn't been an outside marriage in decades, I feel at odds being here most days when I'm not with Izuna-san…" her voice quivered at the end.

Just like her, Hanabi was lonely.

Two outside women fulfilling roles that some women within the Uchiha clan prepped their entire lives for.

It was no wonder the whispers followed them. The harsh glares, the upturned noses that skidded by with as much disrespect allotted without getting in trouble. Sakura chose to ignore it, deciding not to divulge her time in clan nonsense and gossip when her time could be utilized elsewhere.

As the new matriarch, they were less prone to being rude to her now. She couldn't possibly imagine how they were to Hanabi.

"Don't let them affect you. They're jealous…Rightfully so. You're a beautiful woman who has helped bring strength to this clan. You've left your family for this stronghold. I think you're one of the bravest women I know."

The simple words of encouragement lifted the Hyuga's spirits. Hanabi smiled brightly, nearly blushing as she brought the tea to her lips.

Sakura finished with, "you have a friend in me."

What she didn't expect was for the Hyuga heiress to set down her tea and throw her arms around her in earnest, customs be damned, "you have no idea how grateful I am for that, Sakura-sama!"

The girls returned from their tea arm in arm to tour the gardens. They spoke about their childhoods for hours, until the sun started to wane behind the western most mountains. It wasn't until they were corralled into their bedchambers for dinner that they separated, bidding the other a goodnight with a gentle hug. Sakura had friends when she was young, some of the other concubines were friendly with her long ago, but it dawned on her that before Mira, she never truly had a friend. She considered Hidan a companion, though his loyalty could be determined by how many silver coins were involved.

When she returned to her chambers, the familiar crow she decided to name Ton-Ton sat perched on their balcony, its feathers curled back and head tucked towards it's neck to avoid the sharp wind that was rolling in heavy rainclouds. She opened her window to let him in, he perked at attention and hopped over, watching her.

She pat her window sill, keeping her hand out stretched so she wouldn't scare him off.

He entered slowly, notably silent tonight.

Sakura moved away from the balcony to give him space, looking down at her growing belly. Less than four months left.

Then their child would be welcomed to this world.

Silently, she went to her journal — but furrowed her brows when she noticed a letter sticking from her the worn pages.

In proper writing, one simple sentence made her heart stop.

'Witch.'

Author's Note: thank you for reading~
If any of you are still with me, let me know what you think~

I will be writing and posting shorter chapters so we can get this story finished up.