Disclaimer: Naruto and its characters do not belong to me, they belong to Masashi Kishimoto

-Chapter Five-

Growing Older

Sakura didn't quite know what to say to that. Tobirama had cried in her arms not that long ago and that's when she realized that strong men weren't always so. At times they needed someone by their side to be there for them. She knew her brother had needed for her to keep silent. He constantly wanted to be the resilient one and didn't wish for her to point out his moment of weakness.

Hashirama on the other hand wanted to be worried over. When he was really sad he coveted being coddled because no one really ever gave that to him. Butsuma made sure that even their mom wouldn't baby them, which only created 'weak-kneed' men.

Madara was a whole nother beast in this regard. He would despise being pampered and silence wasn't what he needed. If he decided to show weakness in front of someone willingly, then it was something he wanted to at least acknowledge. Not point out bluntly, or even for them to show they recognized it as sadness, but to show that he was heard. What he really wanted was to be cheered up, not to be let to wallow in gloominess.

So, Sakura did something she learned from Hashirama which she had become quite good at. She trolled. "You have other friends?" She spoke with her very best skepticism tone.

His head jerked up so quickly, he was surprised he didn't get whiplash. He stared up into green eyes, thought they should be brown, and nearly smiled. While he hadn't noticed it before, he realized that both Hashirama and Sakura had a propensity to poke fun at him. He liked to react angrily to it, but he did enjoy it. It was the quickest way out of a slump he knew of.

Seeing that he was breaking out of his mood, the girl smiled at him. "Do you want to talk about them?"

Not really, except at the same time he really did. There was no way he'd ever be able to mention Hashirama in front of anyone else around him. She was the only non-Uchiha he knew. In the end he couldn't control himself and told her all about the idiot he once called a friend. He was careful to never reveal who he was or give too many clues that could lead back to him. Though he might have omitted other details also. Like how he'd been bested in stone skipping by the fool.

Sakura didn't need to know silly, useless information like that.

This went on for a while, as he had over a year's worth of meetings to discuss with her, but neither of them moved from their position at the front of the entrance. Finally, he started to get close to where Hashirama and he parted ways, and their conversation hit a lurch. "We just…" Without even realizing it, remembering those intense emotions brought his sharingan to the surface.

So caught up was he in trying to figure out how to explain how their friendship broke apart, he didn't even notice the change. Or see Sakura leaning in to get a better look at his red eyes. "We just differed too greatly." Differed by a clan name.

When he glanced up to see her reaction to all this, thinking she was probably too young to really understand any of it, he was surprised to discover her inches from his face. Along with that, he recognized that he had unconsciously activated his dojutsu.

Madara knew his eyes would be blood red and terrifying for a little girl. Especially if she knew of the Uchiha and their legacy, which everyone did. Civilians even taught their children to be weary of anyone wielding the red eyes of death. The Uchiha weren't on good terms with anyone. Without even meaning to he had scared her away.

Well, that would have been the normal reaction, but Sakura didn't get frightened. She even stared right into his eyes, sending a shiver down his spine. Only a short while ago did he achieve his sharingan, but all his life every non-clan member he met was petrified of accidentally seeing his eyes. Before his eyes had ever bleed red he was ostracized for the simple chance that it might happen. It was hard to buy things when merchants weren't even dare look at you.

For this tiny little slip of a girl to dare gaze into his eyes, with a stimulated sharingan no less, was shocking. And enthralling. She didn't stop there either.

Reaching out, Sakura cupped her hand around his cheek, leaning in even closer. His eyes looked different than Tobirama's, but no less safe. There was a black Tomoe inside which her brother didn't have. She'd never seen an eye like this before, one with a design inside of it. It was very…

"Pretty."

Without thinking Madara suddenly let his gaze wander over the child in front of him, taking in all the information the sharingan was willing to provide. It was easy to see why he hadn't noticed its activation at first. Sakura was devoid of chakra until she had touched him, then her system lit up. Not as brightly as everyone he had seen while wielding it before though. Hashirama had looked like a firework, bursting with energy.

The little peasant before him was the exact opposite. She barely consisted of any energy at all. Scanning her form he swiftly found the cause. The area of her brain was completely bare of any chakra. There was a void there that her energy seemed to be draining into.

Although he'd never looked at a civilian before with the sharingan, he was sure this wasn't normal. There was too big of a difference compared to a shinobi. A big empty space inside someone's head was unusual, but he had no reference to refer to. For now he'd have to leave it alone.

He deactivated the dojutsu and Sakura actually seemed disappointed. He couldn't get over how amazing that was. There was no way he would let her go now. She'd become more than just a pet.

Nervousness started to overtake the pinkette as Madara's stare only appeared to have intensified without its redness. To calm herself she pulled out her stuffed rabbit from her waistband, where she'd stored it to crawl inside their hideout.

The motion drew the teen's attention. At the sight of the dirty toy, he tsked. It was still filthy. Every time he saw her she had it with her, usually in her hand but always within reach. He'd realized it was very precious to her.

Last time, by the river, she recoiled when he'd tried to take the rabbit and he hadn't tried again. Still, there was no better time than the present.

"Do you trust me?"

Sakura bit her lip and blinked up at him. Of course she trusted him, Madara hadn't given her any reason not to. They'd been friends for what seemed like a long time and he had been nothing but good to her. The answer was very simple. She nodded her head yes.

The black haired boy leaned even closer, making sure she saw his hand moving towards the stuffed animal. "Will you let me help you clean that?" It was a test to see just how much the kid trusted him.

The little girl tightened her hold on her possession, unsure. This was the toy her mama gave her, the one she carried around since her death. It cheered her up when her brothers weren't around to do so, which was a lot. Lately she couldn't even bring herself to let it out of her sight. She thought if she did it would disappear just like her mama. Giving it up would be like handing over a limb.

Madara wouldn't take it though, would he? It was just for a cleaning and she'd have it right back. There was no need to worry. Looking up at him, she pushed the rabbit into his hand and he seemed to freeze as if he was shocked.

"That much, huh."

His eyes went from the toy back to her face then he reached towards her until his hand cradled the back of her neck. She didn't even bat an eye at the vulnerable position. There was no question that he could snap her neck so easily. Maybe he should have been worried that he often thought about how simple it would be to kill her, but it was just the way of the shinobi. Always checking others for a moment it would be possible to kill them with the least hassle. It was a switch that was hard to turn off.

Frankly, Madara never had someone willingly being this open with him before. Even Izuna kept himself reasonably defended against sudden attacks when he was with him. It was a habit that they couldn't change. This feeling of someone voluntarily putting themselves in this position for him was empowering. Like he had the whole world in his hand instead of a child's neck.

Along with that came another emotion, one he couldn't recognize but it felt similar to a rush of battle lust. He shifted slightly, feeling a tension in his groin. Whatever it was he'd ignore it for now.

Standing up, with the stuffed rabbit in hand, he turned Sakura around so she was facing the exit. "Let's go to the river." After knowing both of the clans hung around there, neither would go there again for fear of an attack. The place would be practically abandoned from now on.

Once they were there the young Uchiha took his time washing her prized possession. The dirt came off it in waves in the beginning. By the end it was back to its naturally white color. The child squealed in delight when it was returned to her.

After that, they sat at the edge of the river together in silence. That was how it usually was between them, never really speaking too often. Except now Madara didn't really like that very much. He wanted to understand her better.

"Why a rabbit?"

Startled, Sakura glanced up at him. "I was afraid of them. Mama didn't want me to be."

Of all the things to be afraid of the boy hadn't thought rabbits would be anywhere near the top of the list. What a highly unusual fear. Now that he was thinking of questions he came across one he was a little disturbed he didn't know the answer to. "How old are you?"

Grinning, the girl threw up a hand with four fingers lifted. "I'm this many."

He raised an eyebrow. "Can you count?"

This rattled her but she got a stubborn look on her face. "A course I do." Bringing up a fist, she took her thumb out, "One." Her index, "Two." Her middle finger, "Three." Her ring finger, "Four." Then she stopped, staring at her hand in concentration as she lifted her pinky. "…seven."

"Wrong." He flicked her on the forehead in punishment, but was happy she knew at least this much. People of her status tended not to even know numbers during their childhood.

Glaring up at him, she growled out in a fashion very much like his, "I'll learn."

From then on he always asked her all kinds of questions, from what her favorite color was to why the sky was blue. Madara liked questioning her about things he knew she wouldn't know the answer to. What he hadn't expected was for her to always come back with an answer sooner or later.

After messing up the number system, she was able to count to twenty by the next week. From this he gauged that his assumption of her as a family-less peasant wasn't true, she had someone who taught her things. She probably had a merchant for a father, which was better. Merchants could even become rich given the right resources. They were probably just suffering hard times right now, as most people were.

Sakura was so annoyed by her mistake during her encounter with Madara that she asked her father for a tutor. Someone that could teach her the things she wanted to know. Butsuma hadn't wanted to give in at first, he was always taught that females didn't need to know such things. Knowledge wasn't how a woman got married.

In the end, just to get him to concede, Hashirama had to point out to him that besides her title as his daughter she didn't have much going for her. Men didn't want a women with a weak constitution. They would want her to bear them sons and their mom, with her physical weakness, had been an outlier in having given birth to four strong sons.

If Butsuma wanted her to find a husband he should give her the chance to be knowledgeable so she would be able to offer him something, regardless if it was considered feminine or not. With heavy reluctance, he decided to abide by her wishes.

Years passed like that. Madara and Sakura grew closer and closer until it seemed all of his time away from battle was spent with her. While he loved Izuna, they exhausted their tolerance for one another during the moments they were out in the field.

Going to their hideout also allowed him to be away from his father who was only getting worse, forcing his younger son to follow in his footsteps. He'd done his job good to, Izuna now truly hated the Senju. It made him feel free from it all when he was with the innocent girl, so he kept increasing the minutes and hours he was together with her.

On the other hand Hashirama and Madara clashed in battle many times. Soon their fighting outshined their fathers', using the frontline as their personal playground. No one dared get between them. Tobirama and Izuna fought by their sides, keeping the other's little brother out of their way. It wasn't child's play though, the two younger men would fight just as fiercely, if not more so.

Before any of them knew what had happened, eight years went by in a flash.

From the roof of the clan leader's home, Tobirama watched Sakura sneak back into the compound yet again. At eleven his sensing abilities were amazing but at nineteen they were now far superior compared to back then. Yet he still couldn't sense her.

He'd accepted that she was an abnormality, but for someone who could sense so much it made him uneasy. Hashirama was suddenly at his side, watching their sister navigate her way to the house. "Have you ever followed her?"

The white haired teenager felt he was being needled for what he'd done long ago. He shook his head, it didn't feel like much of a concern when Sakura was younger. She always came back unharmed and with flowers. It hadn't seemed like she went very far. Now things were different, the fighting between the clans was worse than ever.

"We should probably talk to her about staying close." They flashed back inside the house so that she wouldn't see them watching her.

The next day, before Sakura could head off to wherever she went, the brothers confronted her. "Sakura, Dear." Hashirama called out to her when she tried to leave the breakfast table. The pink haired girl's shoulders hunched in. Her brother only called for her in that manner when he wanted something.

Turning back to him, she noticed Tobirama was also looking at her. She stared into his red eyes until they started to jerk about. When she was younger and didn't know it was something he couldn't control, she would get angry at his lack of eye contact. Now it felt normal to her, just a part of Tobi.

After learning what was happening, if they were looking at one another and it started to happen, she'd keep her position while waiting for it to be over. That way they could resume eye contact and he wouldn't be left behind.

She didn't wait for that now, feeling like she wasn't going to like what required the both of them to be here to talk about. Her eyes went to her older brother, the clear leader of whatever this was. Tobi took control of many things but when the brunet wanted it he could tame his brother with just a look. It was obvious he felt like he should be the one to open the topic instead of his younger sibling. Which most likely meant it was a sensitive matter that the more insensitive one of the pair might not be able to handle with the proper care.

It was amazing to see how far he had come from that little kid she remembered from so many years ago. She remembered coming home that night Madara first showed her his Sharingan, happier than usual. He'd treated her like a real friend, more like an equal. Not even her siblings bothered with that.

When she finally arrived at the Senju compound, her arms were filled with flowers. In her joy she may have plucked too many. To get rid of some she offered one to everyone she came across. No one was surprised, she'd done this kind of thing quite often. Many of the clan members called her the flower child.

They were happy to see her fully out of her depression from her mother's passing. Hopefully they would see her play with her brothers around the compound like she used to, now that they were back for a few days. She always lit up the place with her charm.

Wanting to get back inside the house without her father noticing, she sought out the window to Hashirama's room. Her own window had been blocked off for as long as she could remember. So going through her brothers' was her only option. While Tobirama's room was closer to her own, she normally used Hashirama's since Tobi was known to be a tattle tale.

To reach the window she had rolled a log under it a long time ago. Her brother had become used to her climbing through it. Though most of the time he wasn't there to see her do it.

That night Hashirama was actually inside, but she didn't notice at first. There were no candles lit to offset the setting sun so the room was dark. She'd made it about half way to the door when she heard her name called.

Without hesitation she flipped out, flung herself backwards, slamming herself against the wall, hand covering her heart. Her reaction was dramatic but her brother, who was sitting on his bed, didn't respond to it at all. He just stared at her with sad eyes. For the second time that day she comforted someone.

She realized Hashirama was speaking and it broke her out of her thoughts.

"We were thinking that it would be good for you to stay within the compound for a while." By the way she looked at him, he knew this wasn't something she liked the sound of. Petite she might be, but she had the stubbornness of a bull. "The warfare is heating up. It isn't safe out there." All he got was that blank stare of hers, perfected from watching Tobirama.

She did a slow blink for him. "I don't understand what you mean. I'm always in the compound."

"Oh come on, we both know that isn't true."

"Prove it." Cold she might be, but she was a young girl who desired friendship above all else. No one in the compound wanted to play with her for fear of hurting her. They were all sure Tobirama would come to them in their sleep to slit their throats if they did. She was pretty sure the man in question was actually the one who started that rumor. Madara was all she had and she wasn't giving him up.

The white haired teen slammed his hands on the table, standing up. "Stop this nonsense. If you don't comply I'll make sure father knows of what you have been up to."

Angry beyond reason, she pointed up at him rudely and quoted Madara. "Snitches get stitches." Then ran away, leaving them with their jaws hanging open.

"She's twelve, where did she learn that?" It was quiet for a moment, then brown glanced up to meet red. "Though I see you're still a snitch." He promptly ran away, just as his sister did, leaving no time for retaliation.

Sakura hurried away from Senju land, rushing to get to her safe haven. A place no Senju should really be thinking of as safe. It was Madara Uchiha's domain. She'd known the second she'd seen his sharingan that he was an Uchiha. Her father warned her of them, the people who had eyes the color of her brother's. Supposedly, they were meant to strike terror into the hearts of their enemies.

She wasn't scared though, she knew there was no reason to be. Madara was a friend before he was an Uchiha. He wouldn't hurt her.

As the months went on, she started to come to the realization that she couldn't tell him who she was. When her brother finally told her what was bothering him, she found out Hashirama was the friend Madara had given up. All because he was a Senju.

From hints the black haired teen had given she figured out he thought she was lower class. A peasant. While that did irritate her, making her want to show off her real status, she couldn't. So she continued to dress the way he expected a merchant's daughter to.

She was able to wear some nicer things as she told him her family was a bit wealthier than he first imagined, but there would be no fancy outfits to impress him with. Mostly she wore a simple sleeveless red dress with slits on its sides and green shorts.

Madara had also changed his choices of clothing. He was twenty-one now and usually wore a high collared blue shirt with the Uchiha symbol on the back, long enough to cover most of his leg. As of late he carried a gunbai with him. As the years went on his hair got longer and he kept it at waist length, its color a contrast with his pale skin. Her hair had also grown longer, reaching the small of her back, but she liked his far more.

Arriving at their little hidden area, she ducked under the entrance, the hole having grown bigger over time along with Madara. Lying on the porch of a wooden structure he built when she was eight, was the very Uchiha she sought after. He was under the section that a misshapen roof hung over, hiding from the sun.

Smiling, she ran over to him. "Madara!" Her cry of his name appeared to have stirred him, as he turned his head in her direction, but didn't open his eyes. She knew he was faking his sleepiness, once awoken he was hard pressed to fall asleep again for at least a little while. "I have a request."

That made him open his eyes as any appeal from her was rare. He always liked to have spare favors lying around. "What do you need?"

She climbed up beside him on the porch, practically sitting in his lap, then turned those big green eyes onto him pleadingly. He swallowed and closed his eyes, fighting bad thoughts. He wasn't physically attracted to her, her child's body didn't interest him. The problem was the he was attracted to her on a different level, a deeper one. She was kind, smart, and willing to challenge him where others weren't.

All things he would like in a future partner, and while he was sure she'd be physically desirable later in life, currently there was no sexual attraction. Except when she showed the trait that drew him to her the most. Her willingness to submit yanked on his chain constantly. He liked conflict too much to want someone he could walk over all the time and felt nothing when meeting other women who were demure. What he liked was the ability to give in even when they had the skill to fight back.

Sakura knew he would help her either way but she begged instead of giving a general request. He liked that she could put her feistiness down for a period of time. It just about killed him when she did this. At the moment she scooted even closer. Then she asked for something very unexpected. "Can you teach me taijutsu?"

He didn't know he would regret accepting.

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