Author's note: I apologize for such a long wait for this chapter. I really wanted to get this up for Sakura's birthday, but better late than never! Thank you for everyone that have continued to supported this story. For those that are new, thank you for joining us!
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of its affiliates.
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Twitter: Spring_Delilah
M
NSFW
TW: Dissection/Angst
Lust for Life
Happiness is a Butterfly
Sweat gathered on her forehead, an intense focused perpetuated the room as she carefully stitched the skin of the dead pig. It was gross, and…Gruesome. Most people would have flailed at the sight — she didn't have time to think with Tsunade watching her. Midterms were here, the school semester was nearly halfway over — part of her couldn't believe the first year of her apprenticeship was going by so fast. It was still her first semester here, yet part of it felt like a lifetime since she left the simplicity of Konoha. At the very least, after next week — there would be a calm in her workload. Until then, her classes preoccupied nearly all of her time.
"Watch your finger! Don't hold it like that," Tsunade corrected her, voice hardening. Sakura stopped, readjusted her hands, and took a small breath to collect herself.
"Go on."
Her hands went back to her stitches. Calmly, quietly — she stitched the poor animal.
This was usually reserved for the upperclassmen, so as a freshman it was a miracle her shishou was allowing her to do this so early.
"Next year your classes will require you to complete dissections of animals, I'd rather you be ahead of the rest."
And thus she walked into the room with a dead pig.
Hours must have passed when she was finally done. Tsunade put an affectionate hand on her head. Exhaustion crept on her eyelids, her history exam was this afternoon — she stayed up until an ungodly hour studying before deciding to sleep. Madara-sensei was a stickler for exams, mentally preparing them to write an essay as their midterm. The dissection came as a surprise for their training today, and it felt like all of her energy was consumed by the practice procedure.
"You did good." Tsunade eyed the sutures along the pig's abdomen, her face giving nothing away.
Tsunade moved back to the table, prepping for cleanup. "You have a test today, correct?"
Sakura took off her gloves, satisfied with her work for the day. Reaching into her pocket for her phone, she checked the time — a large part also hoped to see a message from Tobirama.
Nothing.
Ever since he received the call from his wife, their messages were few and far between. They were both busy with midterms, Tobirama kept profusely apologizing. The only time they were able to hang out was when they were in his office while he was grading papers or tests. She studied silently at his table in a comfortable silence. After — she blushed at the thought. The bruises on her knees didn't help extinguish her want for him . Which is why she chose the longest pairs of socks. So instead of panicking like a love struck girl, Sakura sent him a good morning message, hoping he would have a good day.
"Sakura!" Tsunade snapped. The apprentice snapped her head upward, blinking back her thoughts. "I swear, you've been so air headed lately. I'm assuming it's because of your midterms." Another pertinent pause. Her mentor eyed her knowingly, seemingly looking right through her timid demeanor.
"I'm sorry—"
"Or is it that cocky son of mine?"
Sakura's heart leapt into her throat, a painful cold sweat prickled her skin. Her voice failed her, did she know? How could she know? They've been so careful. Did he tell her? No, he wasn't divorced from his wife yet. Even then, telling Tsunade was another beast of a problem they weren't prepared to tackle. How? How? How? Sakura didn't know how to respond, "wh-what do you mean, Tsunade-shishou?"
The older woman rolled her eyes with an exasperated huff, "because he told me. I understand you don't know him well yet and you're a smart girl, but don't let that spoiled brat do anything stupid." She pointed an accusing finger in her direction.
Her stomach lurched, she was going to throw up. "I-"
"If he gets you pregnant, I swear on any god that's out there I'll kill him. You have a bright future, I'm not letting him ruin that for you."
Now a furious, hard red covered her face. Her head felt light, "Shishou!" Sakura finally sputtered, "I w-won't get pregnant! I promise! I would never…! I-" How did she know?!
The velocity and nervousness of her voice set back her mentor, a sympathetic frown marred her face, "…Ok, I'm sorry. It's just that I really care about your future as a surgeon. You have a lot of talent, I don't want that to be wasted on a mistake. Just…" another pause to breathe, "be safe, please. Itama is a bit of a lady's man. Who knows what that kid is up to, but he really seems to like you."
It felt like the pressure of the universe expelled from the room. Itama! Of course….Of course he would tell his aunt about their time in the city. It took her a second to find her voice, but at least she didn't know. "I promise we won't do anything stupid, Tsunade-shishou. I do enjoy spending time with Itama-senpai. At the moment we're just friends…"
The doubt read clear on her face, "either way." Tsunade picked up a scalpel to clean it, the gleam of it caught Sakura's eye, "if he does anything stupid, you better let me know. Understood?"
All Sakura could do was nod her head, "Yes, Shishou."
When they said their goodbyes, the student practically ran out of the room. When the fresh fall air cooled her down, she took the time to breathe. That was close. If she had said anything hinting towards her anxiety in regards to Itama's older brother — the man she loved with her entire heart….it would have all been ruined.
Leaving to her dorm to shower off the smell of decay and sweat, she was sure that a few years were shaved off her her life. She checked her phone once more to see if her sensei texted her back — hoping to relay what was now a close, but funny story. The excitement woke her up, hopefully he messaged her —
Her phone screen gave her nothing once again.
—
Tobirama flicked his cigarette out, tossing it into the trash can when he noticed his bright pinkette running across campus to her history class. The only reason he knew was because she mentioned it in their messages the day before. Her stockings clung to her toned thighs, books pressed tight to her chest. As she briskly walked to make it in time, he noticed the way many of the male student's heads turned as she passed, her none the wiser.
Truly, she didn't know the affect she had on men.
He wanted to text her back, he wanted to pull her into his office and have his name bounce off her lips again. He wanted to bring her home, he wanted everyone to know about them. Want, want, want. Unfortunately, the cruel gods out there saw fit to see him squirm with his indiscretions to his marriage. One phone call was all it took to unravel what he thought was the best decision of his life.
Mei's threat loomed over him.
Tall and large, his head on the executioner's block — his wife's words the blade.
Upon calling her back, he wanted nothing to do with her. He told her to submit the papers, to which she begged, cried for him to forgive her. He stood firm on his decision, yelling at her for abandoning their son. Their call turned into a screaming match, as per usual. She asked for one night, one night to apologize and change for the better. She wanted her family back.
He still said no, until she mentioned Sakura's name.
Sakura's name, and a photo of them at the carnival — his hands in her hair, their faces mere inches apart.
"Where do you want to meet?"
—
By the end of her test, Sakura was one of the last students to finish. The allotted time for the midterm went by breezily enough, she used the entire time to finish her essay and review it, over and over again. Perfectionism ebbed at her. Even when she knew she did her best, her pencil sat beside her paper — her fingers itching to grab it. One final edit…
"Time's up!" her sensei's deep voice echoed in the large room. Of the class, only seven of them were left. When she turned in her test, Madara grabbed her papers — his hand skimmed idly over her fingers.
Taking it as an accident, she apologized — turning to leave. "Sakura," his thick voice stopped her. "Mind staying for a moment? I have something to discuss with you."
The remnants of the last students filtered out of the room, some of them giving her an idle look, a knowing look. There were some giggles from the girls — friends of Karin. She ignored them, facing her sensei.
"Yes, Madara-sensei?" She asked politely.
He set aside the stack of midterms he needed to grade, "how's your apprenticeship with Tsunade going? Considering how austere she is, I'm surprised you've lasted this long."
The student didn't know whether to take offense or not, "she is strict," Sakura murmured off handedly, "but she's like my family. I appreciate her a lot. It's hard, but gratifying work. " A warm smile lit up her face.
Madara raised a poised brow, "oh? Is that so?" His voice trailed off, she knew that he grew up alongside Hashirama and his brothers. Maybe he saw a different side of her in their youth, "you really know what to say, like a poised little bird."
Now she was extremely confused. Tilting her weight from foot to foot, she wondered if she was in trouble, or if he had suspicions about Tobirama and herself. Nerves bubbled her stomach.
He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, a smirk on his face. "No wonder he likes you."
"Sensei?" She questioned, heart thundering, "…who likes me?"
Madara stood then, his height even taller than her lover. He walked around his desk, leaning against it — his eyes appraising her from head to toe. Sakura felt akin to a mouse under his smoldering gaze. In another world, she was sure her naive heart could have fallen in love with him. He was handsome, tall, intelligent. Many of her fellow classmates whispered how attractive Madara was, girls flocking to sign up for his classes each semester. Unlike Tobirama, he was smug — he knew how attractive he was.
It must have been a shared trait amongst all of the Uchiha.
"Forget I said that," he traced his eyes over her face, "—I kept you here because I need an aid. You're one of the most intelligent and diligent students I've had the pleasure of teaching. Anyone that Tsunade vouches for is someone I can trust. The school allows me to pick an aid, I figured I may be able to get away without one this year, but as you can see…"He motioned to his stacks of ungraded papers. His in class library in the back that was in disarray, and more papers spread half-hazardly throughout the room, "I need the help."
Relief swept away the thunder, "oh." She looked around, weighing her workload, studying, and apprenticeship. Along the way, she started to gnaw on her lower lip, hands clasped tightly in front of her.
"Of course, helping me will give you a ten units towards your upper division classes, as well as two hundred extra credit points towards my class." He sweetened the deal, hoping to sway her into saying yes.
She nearly gagged, with ten extra units she could graduate even earlier.
She could do it.
Often times she found herself bored in her dorm.
"I can help," she perked up happily, smiling up at him — her hair bounced around her in a flutter. "When would you like me to start?"
Madara reached forward, gently grabbing her arm to turn her towards the library, "today. If you can." His chest pressed against her, Sakura didn't notice his proximity, her mind excited on getting such easy units.
With nothing else to do, Sakura set her bag down and listened with careful intent to the instructions her sensei gave her.
Two hours floated by, Madara grading papers — her organizing the books in his library, piles among piles around her. They shared gentle jokes, spoke on their familiarity with the Senju family. After some wholesome conversation, she found out that she rather liked his presence — he was extremely intelligent. An avant-garde with multiple masters degrees. Well spoken in not only history, but literature as well. He spoke of stories he's read, students he's taught, theories he surmised, and where he went to school.
An American school, surprisingly. She couldn't hold back her plethora of questions out of curiosity.
Another hour passed in casual delight. They were in the middle of a laugh when Tobirama entered the room, annoyance clear on his face. He didn't expect to see his prized student in his faux friend's classroom — her cheeks warm from laughter.
"Tobirama-sensei," Sakura chirped happily, waving at him.
Madara sat at his desk, all knowing.
"What are you doing here?" He demanded, forgetting the other party in the room.
Sakura stopped her organizing, setting down a heavy textbook on the table near her, "Madara-sensei asked me to be his aid for the year. I get extra credits and units, so I agreed."
"Is there a problem, Tobi?" Madara casually asked, his shit eating grin stretching from ear to ear.
Tobirama had to play this correctly, "you've never had an aid before."
The history professor shrugged, "with age I've come to realize I need to relent some control and make my life easier. Why not proposition a dutiful student such as Sakura?"
The other professor strode closer to Madara's desk, eyes glinting dangerously. An unspoken rivalry would stand between the two men for an eternity, perhaps multiple lifetimes. If it wasn't vying for the attention of his brother, it was women, if it wasn't women — it was their academic career.
"Now," Madara chided when Tobirama came near, "what brings you to my classroom? Were you looking for someone?"
"I…" in fact, he was looking for Sakura. She didn't respond to his text for a few hours, which was unusual. When Itama came around talking about her once again, he felt the urge to find her. After no response, he remembered about her history test. He should have had a plan in place, an alibi as to why he was looking for her. "I wasn't. Tsunade needs her."
Sakura hummed to herself in her corner, putting the books in their place — organized in the dewey decimal system, oblivious to their conversation.
"Right," Madara didn't believe him, both men watched the student with keen eyes. "Sakura," he called out.
She stopped, turning to face some of the most handsome men she ever bared witness to, "yes?"
The Uchiha leaned forward on his desk, goading Tobirama with a wicked smirk, "that book there on the floor. Could you pick it up please?"
She did as directed, bending over to pick up a book — making sure to bend in a way to cover her modesty, "this one?" She questioned, entirely innocent. Sweat gathered on Tobirama's back, glaring at his childhood friend.
Her long legs led to her pristine thighs, tantalizing them further by the thigh-high stockings she wore, leading to her backside. A lump formed in his throat when he noticed her panties peaked front between her thighs. "Yes, that one," Madara answered, "it goes on the top shelf."
Bastard.
Tobirama clenched his fist when she reached to put the book on the top shelf, her skirt hiking up high — giving them an ample view of the bottom of her ass. Not enough to alert her, but enough to give them a teasing glance. It made his mouth water, to his shame his pants tightened.
With her stockings, he wondered if the Uchiha bastard imagined himself inside of her. More than anything Tobirama wanted to punch him, anger roared in his chest. Just enough to wipe the smug look on Madara's face, the perverted bastard.
"What a good student," his voice was chalice, taunting him. Tobirama regretted ever eyeing Sakura in front of him, he should have known this may happen.
"Let's go, Sakura," he grit out, gathering her bag for her. "Tsunade is looking for you."
Madara seemed to relent, watching his colleague's reaction like a hawk, "it's been a rather good time. It's nice have a fresh face to talk to." Madara couldn't help the chuckle on his lips, "Tobi, perhaps you should indulge yourself in an aid as well."
Impudent patience threaded through his skull, his skin an inferno — itchy with anger. Sakura's soft voice calmed him down when she bounced up to the two, grabbing her bag from him with a polite thanks. "See you on Friday, Madara-sensei."
"Looking forward to it, you did a superb job today, Sakura."
They shared one last smile, when Tobirama ushered her out of the damned classroom.
Once out of sight, his hand gripped her own.
A lethal quiet consumed him. Sakura flounced beside him, happy to be in his presence. It was cute — Kami he hated this feeling. Again, he never claimed to be a good man. In fact, he could surmise he was poetically awful.
Once they were around the corner, in a secluded, dead corner of the campus — he pushed her against the wall. Sakura squeaked when he pressed her against the wall with his chest, his hand grabbing her chin, "you realize he wants to fuck you, don't you? "
A flicker of fear washed through her eyes, until her body grew warm from his proximity, she lifted her chin in confusion, "he asked me to be his aid…"
"Do you not notice the way he was looking at you?" Without looking around, his hand snaked up her skirt, their foreheads touched.
His student stayed quiet, her arms wounding around his neck to prop herself up higher on him, "Sensei…" she breathed into his ear, tickling his skin. The cold dusk air nipped at their skin in playful bites, teasing them for the cold winter ahead. Between them, her nipples pebbled beneath her thin shirt. "Are you jealous I'm helping Madara-sensei?"
Not a lick of fear eluded her, guileless eyes bore up at him, leaving his legs shaking. He could take her here, right now — if he wanted to. He could tear the innocence from her face, just as he had before. Sakura moved her thighs further apart, his hands in a minacious distance from her sweet cunt. His pants were shamefully tight, he wanted to choke on the air around them.
Why was he like this around her? Why couldn't he control himself?
Sakura opened her thighs further, pressing a small kiss on the tip of his nose. "I would never let him touch me," she promised gently, soothing his bruised ego, "no one could ever touch me like you, Sensei."
The beguiled professor choked, a hard groan rocking from his lips. "Fuck," he lamented, his hips beginning to grind absently, it would only take one zip of his pants. One shove of her panties…"Sakura-" he sucked in a breathe. He hadn't touched her in over a week, he wanted her — gods, he wanted her so bad.
Without words, they both knew they couldn't, not here.
They both released a struggled breath, declining their inclination to one another.
Sakura understood him well enough bye now. She allowed him time to collect himself — until he gently dropped her. When the moment passed, shallow breaths with quicker hearts, reality slapped him. In a few hours he would be meeting with his wife. He debated on telling Sakura about the picture — though decided against it. It wouldn't be worth putting extra stress on her during her midterms week. Whatever the outcome of this dinner, he would call her.
When her feet touched the floor again, she placed a chaste kiss on his cheek — wholly aware that anyone could walk over to them, "you haven't been responding to me," Sakura pointed out simply, matter-of-fact. Unlike Mei, there was never an accusatory ebb to her voice. No accusations where he felt like he was being held at gun point.
"I know," he admitted, "I'm sorry. There's some things I need to take care of, then things will be back to normal."
Sakura clutched onto the strap of her bag, a cheek puffed out in annoyance, "I thought we agreed that we wouldn't hide things from each other anymore? Considering you're my first…Well, practically everything — I think I do a good job of not bothering you when you need space. Then we have these beautiful dates and time together, only for you to ignore me."
Without outright asking, she wanted to know about Mei. As intelligent as she was, she knew that was why he was acting different. His coldness could chill an entire room, that coldness directed itself towards her when he had to deal with his conflicting emotions.
Ever insightful, he admired her hair in the waning sun — how in certain lights of the day her hair looked like the cherry blossoms blooming in spring, or in the moonlight like silver flames, whereas now — with purples, pinks and oranges dancing on the horizon, her hair looked akin to a sunset, fiery yet calming.
"I apologize." He would be apologizing to her for a lifetime, he knew it. "I promise, tomorrow I will tell you everything. I promise."
Sakura felt her chest ache, that dull ache where she knew something wasn't right. A woman's intuition, as Ino would tell her. It made her sad, a sadness that was beginning to grow a deep, hollow hole within her. Love is a bigger bargaining chip than rational, to the detriment of young girls and women alike. Her heart won once more. "Alright," she murmured, starting to see through his half-truths.
He walked her close to her dorms, so many questions kindled in her throat.
Instead, she bid him a warm goodbye.
Surprisingly, he gripped her hand — understanding of her sadness, "soon. Do you believe me?"
She gave him a silent yes, a subtle nod. He gave her an apologetic look, wishing to convey everything he felt. For her, for their situation. She watched him turn back towards the campus, bag pressed close to her chest - hand still warm from when he held it.
I want to…but.
—
A wine glass sat untouched on the table, no food — no courtesies, just two withered, angry souls. Man and wife looked at each other, memories of their love new could be spoken upon — they were there, ever present, yet nothing was said.
"How's Toneri?" her manicured, polished voice was soft, testing his anger.
Tobirama could be cruel, he could mention all of her failings as a woman, as a mother. Instead, he dodged her question, "why haven't you submitted the divorce papers yet?"
"Because I don't want to, I don't think we should divorce."
If not for the public setting, they would surely be arguing already. Voices so loud their ears would be ringing.
"If my memory serves me correct, you initiated the divorce. Days after you told me you no longer love me."
"I needed time to think," Mei combatted, face twisted with grim remorse. It looked practiced, fake. "I want to be with my family. There was so much anger, so many awful words being thrown around, I couldn't take it anymore."
His blood pressure rose with each word she spoke, "so you leave?!" he hushed, "you leave us? You leave your son?! Do you know how hard he cried? Do you know how worried I was, trying to keep him calm, trying to come up with a way to calmly explain his mother abandoned him? I called everyone you know in this s fucking city! Just to have them lie to me?" He was seething, irate. He wanted to hit something, how she lugged this anger from him — he would never know.
Mei kept quiet, for once. Until she didn't. "For being so worried, you moved on quickly with that little pink whore of yours. How old is she? Nineteen?"
Her words whipped him into complacency, the reality he created dousing him with his transgressions, "don't call her that. Call me anything you want, leave her out of this."
Now she picked up her wine, those hands he used to admire seemed skeletal now, like the claws of a creature that crawled out of the pits of hell, "were you fucking her before I left?" Her voice rose, he dodged his view around the room to look around and make sure no one was listening. Fortunately for them, they were in a loud, busy bar they used to visit.
He tuffed, "of course not. I loved you. I would have given anything to make things work."
Clear as day, his only mistake was coming onto his student before Mei left. Even more when he first kissed her in his office, that was his mistake in all of this. He would own up to it, he could take responsibility, at the expense of his ex wife.
"Loved?" Hurt reflected on her face, a rare sight from her. In the last two years of their failing marriage, tears were rare — affection even more so. "So you love her, then?" She sipped her wine to distract herself, her full lower lip quivering.
A pang of guilt riddled his stomach. "I-" could he tell his soon to be ex wife didn't expect his hesitation, "I'm sorry, Mei." Offering her any sort of comfort, he reached his hand towards her. She was gripping the table, her manicured nails digging into the wood.
She clasped her hand away from his, refusing him once again. Unbidden tears threatening to cloud her beautifully marbled eyes. "I really don't want to lose you," she set her wine glass down. "I've made a mistake. You made plenty in the beginning of our marriage. You can admit that you left me with Toneri for school. Even through the miscarriage…You left me. I was a brand new mother, alone with an infant! When you were finishing your understudy and credential program — you were never home."
Silently, she was crying.
He stayed silent.
Perhaps it was their tumultuous marriage, or the way the words slipped from her mouth — insincere. "Stop crying," he chastised, voice hardening. It- it was too much. To reflect on his neglectful behavior. He knew, they've had this talk dozens of times, circulating back to the fact that she would never forgive him. A never ending hellscape for them both. "I tried for the last two years to make it up to you. I've tried everything. Counseling, taking you on trips. I've never been the man you truly wanted."
"You are!" she whispered harshly, "I gave everything up to be with you. I supported you, my parents supported your schooling. I stayed at home, giving up my career so you could become a professor. Never once noticing everything I did. It's so easy for you to chase the cunt of one of your students, but she doesn't actually know you. How cruel you can be."
There they were. Those vindictive words she wielded so well.
"I told you not to talk about her," he repeated, tight lipped.
"Though I'm sure you've told her everything about me, no? How awful I must look to your little student. How you've been pious and perfect in our marriage. Does she know about when I caught you texting another student? Or how about when you cheated on me with that woman during your bachelor party?" She scoffed, rolling her eyes through her tears.
"You…Knew about that?" he treaded carefully, a surmountable wave of guilt threatening to drown him.
Hashirama really doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut when he drinks, I promised Mito I would never say anything. I didn't want your family falling apart when I knew you distanced yourself from them and only recently fixed things with everyone." She bit back a quiet sob. In truth, she looked beautiful crying.
A regality affluent to her demeanor.
She continued, the anger woven into her face, "You think you're smarter than everyone else, don't you?" She bit at him, words lashing out, "you're not clever. You're not sneaky. I know you. I knew the instant you started looking up her skirt, you pig."
He needed to stop this. They needed to stop this.
"Mei, I — I'm sorry I was a shitty husband. I'm sorry we didn't work out. I promise I tried. I loved you, I still do. I care for you more than you know. We both know we're no longer in love. For our sake, for Toneri's sake, we have to end this." It was his last spiel, his final decision.
"I apologize, too," she looked downcast at her wedding ring that blinked back at the both of them under the dull lighting of the bar. He barely noticed she wore it. Back then, he used the little savings he had to buy her that ring, eventually upgrading it when he got his first salary check.
"…I'm sorry that I have to force your hand."
Pulling out her phone, she showed him the picture of them at the carnival.
Fuck.
Any sympathy he had for her died when her tears dried up.
"She's awfully cute. Sakura Haruno — isn't it?" she looked at the screen, his fidgeting making her delight much, much more sweet.
"Where did you get that?" he questioned, remembering how Sakura warned him to be careful.
"Doesn't matter," she cooed, frowning at the photo, "you used to look at me like that. How long until she bores you? Are you gonna knock her up as quick as you did with me?"
He tried to snatch her phone. Quicker by a second, Mei tsk'd at him.
"I'll make this simple, my dear husband. You end things with her, or I send this to the dean. She'll face expulsion, even if Tsunade talks to the board. You'll be barred from ever teaching again. Without a job, I'll be granted full custody of Toneri."
There were few times when his nerves made him anxious. Every word she spoke was making him dizzy with fear. A loathing rage over came him. Cardinal eyes narrowed, "you're a selfish bitch," he seethed.
She shrugged, uncaring to how many lives she would be destroying, "if you so much as breathe around her outside of that classroom — I'll ruin you and her." Mei stood, a beacon of divine femininity that beseeched men to fall at her feet. All Tobirama could see was the dark shroud cloaking her, laced in black wisps of his hatred.
"I don't remember you being this cruel."
Mei almost didn't respond, "I've learned from the best."
She turned to leave.
All he could see was a woman scorned by his love.
—
Sakura turned the last page of her textbook, deciding that she studied enough for the night. Two more midterms, then her week would be free. Briefly, she wondered where Karin could be. In the past few weeks the redhead would come when she would be out of the dorm. To her relief, at the end of the semester she could request a dorm transfer.
A few more months.
Her phone lit up in a ring. It had to be him. Catapulting herself onto the bed to grab her phone, Sakura dimmed when it wasn't her sensei. Guilt ate on her conscience, it was her best friend. Calling her. Finally. Irritation palmed at her shoulders at the picture of them visiting a cherry blossom grove, wide smiles — Naruto poking his head behind them trying to get in their photo.
"Ino?" Sakura answered.
"Why do you sound surprised it's me, Forehead?" Ino's high pitched voiced rolled waves of comfort through her.
"You haven't called me back in over a week," the pinkette pointed out, irritated with her best friend. It would be easy to spill everything, to give her the whirlwind plethora of drama that became her life. Deciding against it, Sakura bit her lip — Ino mulled over the phone, giving her a lame excuse.
"Anyways," her friend chirped happily over the phone, "guess what!"
There could be a million things, "what?"
Sakura felt her pout over the phone, "ugh, you're no fun. You have to guess, Forehead! I can't believe it actually happened!"
"….You're coming to Tokyo?" she suggested, hopeful for an approving answer.
"NO!" Ino squealed over the phone, "Sai proposed to me!" Even over the line, Sakura knew her friend was bouncing around.
It warmed her, her irritation for lack of communication lost in her own excitement, "what!?" Sakura squealed too, "you haven't even been dating for a year! He did!? How?!" Happy tears washed over her, happy for her friend who's goal in life was to be in a happy, loving marriage.
Their voices broke, "I-I, I can't believe it! I'm so happy for you!"
In their excitement, they cried.
Ino went on to tell her how Sai proposed in great detail. Apparently, they went on vacation last weekend. With her father's permission, they set up a beach proposal. Dozens of flowers, all hand picked by Sai with particular intricacy. In it, he laid out what each flower meant to him (albeit, Ino is already an expert — so he connected the flowers to their memories). By then she was uncharacteristically ugly sobbing, barely able to process his sweet words — the rest of it included streamers, a decorated archway — all at the same place they had their first official date.
Once they hung up, Sakura lie flat on her stomach, cheek pressed into her pillow. She was happy for her friend, there were already talks of her being maid of honor. It only made her think of her own love life, how she was waiting on a married man to leave his wife. Sai never spoke much, yet he always told Ino how beautiful she was — always communicated with her.
Sakura shook her head, I can't compare them. We're not officially dating yet. Besides, he does say the sweetest things to me. He does want to date me, but….
In the calm of her dorm a harsh reality dawned on her, she loved someone she shouldn't. Then why? Why was it so easy to love him? To be around him, happy — safe in his presence. Unless she was just a fool, a pretty little fool.
She groaned, hugging the pillow tighter.
At some point she dozed off, roused by her dorm room slamming shut. Bleary eyed, it was in the middle of the night when Karin snorted, "oh, did I wake you?" a fake sweetness, like cherry flavored cola coated her voice.
Sakura didn't respond, just turned her head — ignoring her.
"It's been so long, what have you been up to?" Karin nearly sang, sitting across from her on her bed.
Begrudgingly, Sakura was intelligent enough to know this would end in a fight, "I don't want to argue with you tonight. Let's agree we just don't like each other and move on." Reigning in Ino's unwavering confidence from their conversation earlier, she wouldn't let her get to her. Not when things were going so well.
The redhead pouted, a sinister undertone to her words, "I like you," they came out like vinegar, "you know who I also like? Tobirama-sensei.."
Briefly, her heart stammered. Why would she bring him up? Careful to not react, Sakura turned her head away from Karin, drilling her vision into the wall. The room dropped in temperature when Karin stood.
"Don't ignore me, look at me." She demanded.
Sakura didn't move, instead getting comfortable again to try and fall back asleep, pointedly ignoring her.
"I said look at me." Her voice raised several decibels, glasses fixed on her nose.
She didn't move, "what do you want, Karin?" Gaining a bravado, Sakura glared at her roommate.
In front of her, without realizing Karin stood in front of her — the redhead's phone pushed into her face. Clear as day on her screen was a picture of Tobirama and herself, his hands intimately holding her face. This was right after the ride that upset his stomach at the carnival. He was about to kiss her — while she looked fondly into his eyes. Their faces were inches apart. There would be no mistaking it, they looked romantically involved.
A cold sweat froze her skin. Quickly, she scrambled into a seated position, "where did you get that!?"
The goading, downright evil look on her roommate's face made her throat constrict, "it's really funny. I wondered how the little country girl got such good grades. There's no way that Konoha has a good education system — so I get it now. You're fucking and flirting with the professors for your grades, aren't you?"
The accusation made her skin crawl, "of course not-!"
"Shut up!" Karin yelled, "don't bother trying to lie. You're sleeping with Senju-sensei. You realize he's married right, he has a kid. I didn't know you were disgusting little home wrecker."
A blossom of red tinted her cheeks, her ears were starting to ring, and her eyes were beginning to burn, "I-I'm not! I swear it!"
No, no, no! If that photo got out, everything — absolutely everything would be ruined.
"Ugh," Karin tilted her head, "you're such an ugly liar. Is that how you got your scholarship too? It makes sense why you're clinging onto Itama-senpai. Does your master know that you're sleeping with her son?" A hardened, elated cackle erupted from her roommate.
Sakura gripped the edge of her sheets, thick tears forming in her eyes, her heart stuttering in her throat "Karin, please…I'll do anything."
Her life would be stripped away from her. One photo, that's all it would take. Her selfish desires would ruin Tobirama's life…It would ruin Toneri's life. How could she do this to them? To herself?
Karin tipped her nose up, bearing down on the helpless student, "anything?" She repeated.
Sakura perked up at the slight chance, "anything! I'll do your assignments, I'll move out — please, just…Please." It wasn't becoming of her to beg, it struck down her pride. Her minuscule ego completely evaporated, there was no confidence Ino could give her in this situation. She just…Couldn't lose him, not like this.
"Fine," Karin's accomplished gloat made her eyes shine, "you will be doing all of my assignments. I better get good grades, and the minute you upset me — I'm sending this to the school's president as well as his wife, got it?"
As if she already preceded this outcome, Karin dug into her bag and dumped several large textbooks on Sakura's bed, nearly hitting her. "I have a kinesiology paper due tomorrow at noon. Email it to me when you're done."
With that, before Sakura could grovel any further, Karin gave her a disgusted look edged with a reifying smirk. In tandem with her bright red hair, she left their dorm. In the silence that followed, Sakura didn't realize how bad she was shaking. Her hands wouldn't stop trembling. On the floor, she could look at her hands — helpless.
She needed to tell him.
Gathering herself, she rushed to her phone.
Without pause, she dialed her sensei's number.
Nothing.
The next morning, nothing.
When she laid in her bed two entire nights after seeing him — when he promised he would call her, Sakura felt the rifts of their relationship becoming a bigger, treacherous trench.
-I really need to speak with you.
This time, the message rejected. As if she were…blocked? Or his phone was off.
Despair clung to her, making it difficult to breathe.
Maybe…He chose to be with his wife again.
That thought alone broke her heart, it made her chest ache. She clutched her hand to her chest, taking a deep breathe to regulate her thoughts. If he did choose his wife…She would just be another dumb fool that fell for a married man. It would make sense, he had a family. Toneri would be happy. She had no right to him…Even though he held her flimsy little heart in his palm. All of his words would mean nothing. Gods, she was so stupid. The husband never left the wife. That was always the rule of thumb, and she didn't listen.
He owned a deep, true part of her she would never get back.
Her nose burned — she willed tears away.
She grabbed her pillow, screaming into it.
Sakura wanted to chuck her phone, wanted to break something or run away. Back into the safe arms of her town. Instead, she finished the paper Karin told her to do. With only an hour of sleep holding brittle nerves, she just needed to wait until tomorrow morning during class so she could see him again.
—
Unbeknownst to either party, two hearts were hurting.
Forlorn looks were given, neither noticing the other.
They would duck their heads, yearning for one another.
Sakura kept a chilled exterior, keeping her eyes diligently on her paper or beyond him. When Tobirama would sweep a glance at her, she didn't see him. Refusing to look at him. He let the students partner up to deliberate a quick presentation. As usual, Sakura took charge in her group — sharing soft smiles and gentle glances with her partner. When it came to her studies, she excelled.
Like the other day with Madara, a hardened jealousy brimmed in his chest.
When she presented, he sat at his desk — face a mask of apathy. The hard, intense professor was back, much to the dismay of the other students. Though, as he watched her present their findings to the class, her confidence exuded past the darkness beneath her eyes. Has she been sleeping? His hands clenched together in front of him, covering his mouth.
When they were done, Hojo..Hujo, whatever his name was — pat her on the back. Clear as day, another male was smitten by her intelligence balled with her cute demeanor and pretty face — presented in a fine package that had him fall in love.
Writing something on the back of her paper, he handed each student their midterms back.
On the back of hers, he told her to meet him in his aunt's office.
—
Sakura bolted from class when she read the back of her paper. Her heart felt too large for her chest when she bound through the familiar doors. They both knew Tsunade finally caved and took a personal day to head to the casino. Just as the paper alluded to, he was sitting on the couch — the sight a familiar one. The same sight on the night that led to their relationship. The chain of events that occurred to lead them to where they were now…She didn't know what to do.
For once, she felt like a stranger to him.
This was so…Hard.
Her legs congealed, books pressed tightly to her chest, "Sensei?"
In one swift motion, he got up and reached past her to lock the door. Just as quickly, he lifted her up, books falling to their feet. He clung to her, her arms wrapped around his neck. Her hands lost themselves in his unruly hair, the silvery white strands soft but unkept.
He pressed his nose into her neck, taking a deep inhale of her lavender scent. It calmed his thundering anxiety, it eased his muscles, she eased him. She made him a better human, her presence alone served to fix him wholeheartedly.
Too soon, too much…She needed answers.
Unfamiliar to them, Sakura pulled away — searching his eyes.
Tobirama felt her trepidation, so he clung harder. "Mei found out about us," he mustered, a dry laugh shaking his body. God, he fucked up. "She has a picture of us…From the festival."
Her eyes blew, "she does?" Instantly, she wondered why Karin would give up her cards that easily, or was she planning on ruining them all along?
"I should have listened to you that day at the carnival. I'm so fucking sorry," he set her down, running a hand through his strangled hair, "she's forbidden me from contacting or seeing you. I should have called you, and I know you've tried to call me — but she's threatened to give the picture to the dean, get me fired — get you expelled. I can't ruin our lives. I can't ruin your life."
It would be one thing for Mei to have her suspicions about them through the divorce. When things settled, they could hold off on the university finding out about them, on their own time. Now, though….She held all the power over them.
It all made sense now, "so you had to block my number."
It was an indifferent statement, she understood — it just…hurt.
"I'm sorry," he repeated, a frustrated growl emitting from him. He wanted to punch something, ruin something — "fuck!" He threw himself on the couch again, palms pressed to his eyes. Maybe if his head imploded then this situation would be a mute point.
Sakura dropped to her knees in front of him, gently removing his hands from his face. She held his hands in her own, her thumbs rubbing over the back of his hands. "We can figure this out, Sensei…"
"How?" his tone was dry, "I'm not ruining your life. I have Toneri to think about. If I don't have a job, she takes him! That conniving bit—"
"Sensei!" Sakura snapped, "she can't hold this over you forever. Our relationship might be against the rules, but we can figure this out. You guys aren't together…"
"She refuses to sign the divorce papers."
Part of her confidence wavered with those words, "…w-what?"
"When I spoke with her the other night, she refused to sign them. I'm essentially being blackmailed into giving her another chance. If I don't listen, she gives the photo over to the dean."
Her voice quivered, "what does this mean…?"
This time he gripped her small hands in his own. A slow, apologetic hold. Sakura knew what this meant, the words were there — she was intelligent enough to translate the way his eyes softened, the guilt marring the tilt of his lips. On her knees before him, he swept his gaze over her face, memorizing —tracing every detail about her.
"We can't be together right now, I'm sorry."
It felt like her world tilted upside down. Her skin felt clammy, yet she was cold.
"…But-"
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his lips stinging her cold, cold skin. He squeezed her hands, a goodbye. This was goodbye. Two hearts broke, both a victim of circumstance. Victims of pride, of mistakes. Sakura's mouth parted slightly with the dawn of her realization. Full lips trembling, already mourning the loss of him.
His hand cupped her face when he pulled away, tears clouding his vision. Tobirama clenched his jaw, his face so tight he was sure he could crack his own jaw. "I'm not letting her ruin your life, when she's already ruined mine. I'm not dragging you further into this mess, ok?" As much as his body fought against the decision, as much as he wanted to whisk her away — have their own life with Toneri. He couldn't. It would be selfish, and he was tired of being a selfish bastard.
Sakura felt limp, her eyes looking beyond him, into a nothingness from a broken soul. "Sensei…Please?" She whimpered, voice shattered.
"You'll be ok, I promise."
Before Sakura could change his mind, he stood up. He steeled his shoulders, refusing to look down at thedefeated, broken girl on the floor in his aunt's office. Silent tears ran down her cheeks. He left swiftly, weakly gripping the handle on the door. She reacted when the door unlocked, whipping around to reach for him, calling for him.
Tobirama would never forget the sound of her sobbing after him. It broke another shattered piece within him.
Maybe he was the villain Mei claimed him to be.
The door shut behind him, and he could hear her soft sobs down the hall.
tbc-