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Covenant
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Synopsis: Everyone is dead or hunted. The Allies lost. The war is over.
Treacherous seal marring her neck as a collar, Madara parades her like a victory trophy.
And though he gave her to his patriarch—betrayed her in the worst of ways—
Here, in The End, Sasuke Uchiha is all Sakura has left.
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2:3. Pieces
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SAKURA GASPED. "I so do not look like that!"
"What's wrong with it?"
"Right here!" Her finger landed on her sketched forehead in his notebook. "Why did you draw it so big!"
"I drew it realistically, Ugly."
"First of all, that's rude. Second, I've told you hundreds of times not to call me that anymore!"
He smiled, offering her a hushed, "Sorry, sorry."
Sakura peered down at the drawing he held between them. Like all of his work, it was beautiful—except for the forehead, obviously enlarged to tease her. He'd illustrated her standing by an ocean in a frilly bathing suit, a large sun hat in one hand, the other lifted in a greeting. Hair caught in a breeze.
If he fixed her facial dimensions, it'd be a virtually perfect replica of her: down to the tilt of her lips and the slope of her hip.
Despite the joke, she grinned. "Have you ever swam in the ocean, Sai? We should go this summer, if your orders—"
"Who are you talking to?"
The low voice made her jump. Head whipping towards it, she caught the tail-end of the tent flap closing behind Sasuke. Peeling off his Akatsuki robe, ruffling the cold out of his hair, he regarded her with a raised brow.
Sakura blinked once. Twice. Pivoted back to where Sai sat only seconds ago to explain herself to both of them—
And found nothing but cold, empty, brown earth.
Her next breath rattled in her chest. "No one," she whispered, eyes feverish as she blinked a third time, to make certain.
It'd felt real. So real. So tangible—Sakura swore she'd touched his drawing paper. Could've sworn she felt the puff of his laugh brush her cheeks.
Sai had been there. For a moment, he'd been right beside her.
Sasuke had taken Sai from her once again.
Before he could see the grief surely written all over her, Sakura turned her back to him and laid back down. Squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for him not to ask any more questions. So she wouldn't have to admit out loud just how rapidly she was deteriorating.
Yesterday she'd awoken handcuffed in this tiny tent; bathed, hair combed, wearing new clothes, and no longer chained to the ground. Lying near Sasuke, who sat on the opposite side of the small space, thumbing over a scroll as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
Designed for a single occupant, the travel tent was cramped trying to house the two of them. It left little room for anything but the necessities. That fact had comforted her. It meant that whatever they were doing here probably wouldn't take long.
The underground cell was degrading, wet, and unbearably bare…but it was known—safe, so long as she followed the rules.
Though she was no longer attached to this life, if she had to live for Ino's sake, it was better to live safely.
Sakura was wrapped in a thick blanket that staved off the winter nip. Besides the sleeping mat she occupied—a second one rolled up by the opening holding a blanket of its own—and the brooding second party, the tent was bare.
When she'd realized who was sitting across from her, there'd been a startling lack of shock. Rather, an unwelcome, familiar ghosting of warmth tickled her neck, soothing her nerves for a few faint inhales.
Then she remembered this man was the reason she was cuffed in the first place.
She hadn't asked who washed and dressed her—hadn't asked where they were or why they were there, though she assumed it was somewhere in Earth Country. Didn't speak a word to him at all, even when his gaze lifted to meet hers over the parchment he was studying.
She didn't love him.
He was a traitor—worse than scum.
Her silent treatment had lasted until her stomach grumbled hours later, and he'd hit her with a slightly amused: "Hungry?"
To which she'd replied with a few things she thought he ought to shove somewhere.
"Good one," he'd intoned as he stepped out of the tent.
Though he had, in fact, promptly returned with food. He'd even removed the handcuffs—which was precisely when she learned that wrapped around both ankles were metal suppressors, and even without the cuffs, she still couldn't do anything of value to escape.
She hated him. Could barely stand that they were breathing the same air.
But he was there, and he wasn't leaving, and there wasn't anyone else around to ask the things she terribly wished to know.
"Is Ino here?" she'd finally forced through her teeth, probing the slop in the bowl he'd dumped beside her.
"No."
Her mouth had dropped. "They let her go?"
"No. She's back in Lightning."
"Right. How convenient," she'd mocked. "Was she ever on Madara's base, or is her being alive a lie, too?"
"No reason for me to lie about it."
His voice had been tight, and though Sakura hadn't looked at him to gauge any reaction, the space was so small it was impossible not to hear the sigh at the end of his sentence. The noise had stoked her deep rage; it was as if he was already profoundly weary of her. When he'd trapped her—when he'd dragged her here—when he was the one choosing to stay in the tent…!
"Of course there is. You're all pretending to have her so I'll eat, right? So I'll do your bidding?" She'd sneered—"To ensure that I cooperate in your little games?"
"This isn't a game," he'd growled back before releasing another drawn-out exhale. "Just eat the damn food and be quiet. Go back to sleep. Whatever, I don't care, so long as you stop talking."
Even through her chakra buffer, she'd felt the seal respond to his order. With him so close, and as the hours dragged on, it was clear that her ward was weakening. Or rather, that the seal appeared to be getting stronger with their extended proximity.
Though loathed to do it, she'd mechanically eaten his offering.
Not because she believed him—she didn't. He was a proven liar. He and his treacherous little minions.
But the potential outcome of her banking on it being a lie and it turning out to be true was far worse than the opposite. And if she were honest with herself, death by starvation had always been an idiotic endeavor.
There were easier, quicker, surer ways to die. As soon as Ino was safe.
The following hours were spent brainstorming, most unsuccessfully. Her mind had become a dangerous thing to navigate: a harrowing, infinite night cut by a single flickering streetlight. So long as she didn't think too deeply, didn't stray too far, carefully stood beneath the fluorescent glow—the ghosts couldn't reach her. The illusions stayed hidden in the dark. Sometimes, however, the light lost power on its own; sometimes it was impossible to know which passing thought might shove her out into the abyss.
She'd found herself wheezy and shaking more than once as the tent morphed into a battlefield. More than once, she'd smothered a scream and clenched back tears as Naruto's howl of laughter passed by outside.
Sasuke pretended she didn't exist, even through these episodes—which was fine. Preferable, even. It didn't hurt at all. She didn't care. She hadn't expected him to reach out and comfort her or provide anything an ordinary, well-adjusted human man might.
She didn't love him anymore.
Just seeing him on the edge of her vision felt like swallowing something sour—sitting there, free. Unbothered. Unmoved. A betrayer. An evil, sociopathic murderer. The worst man she'd ever met in her entire life. She wouldn't even think about him. He didn't exist, either.
And this morning, or what she supposed was morning from the brightness filtering through the threads of burlap, when she'd blearily entered the real world, Sai had taken up Sasuke's side of the tent.
He was smiling and sketching, and Sakura hadn't found a thing odd about it. It'd been nice to finally have someone to talk to. She hadn't seen Sai in so long, not since he'd gotten orders to Lightning.
She'd well and truly lost it.
Sasuke was still standing by the entry.
Fat, stinging tears dripped from the corners of her eyes as she focused on breathing evenly enough that he may not notice she was crying. Not that she expected him to acknowledge it—merely for the principle of it. When a muted minute passed, she nearly thought she'd done it.
Then he took the two steps between them and knelt over her. "Are you hurt?"
Not trusting her voice, she kept silent.
"Sakura—do you need a healer?"
"No." Damn it—it cracked.
"If you're injured—"
"I said I'm not fucking hurt!" she shouted at the burlap wall, throat compressing further on each syllable. Despite it, she felt the rising hysteria push through. "Stop pretending like you give a damn! The joke's over. Ha ha! You got me, Sasuke. Good fucking job. You won. Konoha's destroyed and its shinobi are dead. Now leave me the fuck alone." The last sentence was too high, too quivering to be anything but a sob.
"...This evening, there's a meeting—"
She rounded on him, fury and pain boiling over, tears dripping off her jaw. "STOP! Just stop! You don't care, so just shut up! Go back to ignoring my existence!" The red of his dojutsu was the exact shade of Tsunade's blood. It made her want to crawl out of her skin. "I hate you. I fucking hate you, I hate everything about you and your damned family—"
"Enough." He leaned in, glaring. "Listen closely, Sakura. Say what you will about me, but you'll watch your mouth about my family. Madara Uchiha is your Kage now."
"Madara Uchiha is a treasonous bastard who will never be my Kage!"
The blanket had fallen off of her in the shouting. Her legs were bare and curled to her side; Sasuke reached out to tap the metal suppressor gagging her left ankle.
"That's right. He's more like your God. So if you value your life, don't speak against the Uchiha name again."
"You think I'm afraid of death?" She laughed—genuinely laughed. "Just kill me, I don't care! You'd be doing me a favor."
Sharingan dispelling into clear onyx, his face smoothed back into stone. "Madara needs you for information." He stood abruptly and returned to his side of the tent. "So you won't be killed for now. Even so, remember that the Yamanaka isn't in the same position. Do as I say or you'll regret it."
She'd never hated someone so much in her life. Choler burnt at the back of her mouth.
"If you so much as look at her—I'll tell Madara about the agreement," she fumed. Why hadn't that thought occurred to her until now? She had so much leverage over this arrogant asshole—how dare he threaten Ino like that. "I'll tell him you gave away his coordinates and battle plans. So if you value your life, you won't touch her."
Sasuke scoffed as he rummaged through his pack. "You won't. Not that it matters."
"I will," promised Sakura.
"You can't."
Then she was scoffing. "Oh, you think I can't give you up, Sasuke? After what you've done, you really think I still love you enough to protect you?" She smirked when he shot her a withering frown. "Your ego is fucking astounding."
"Even now, you're so loud. The seal won't let you betray me that blatantly." He rolled his eyes. "Though I'm sure you'll try anyway."
Her smirk fell away as his attention switched from her to the scroll he'd pulled out almost instantaneously.
Would the seal truly stop her from disclosing things that might endanger him? She didn't remember that happening even once during the past year. Was it because she'd never tried to tell anyone with the intention of betraying him? Or maybe a new effect of doubling up the covenant?
Whatever the reason, if he was right, she was in a considerably weaker position than she'd thought—even though she'd only thought of it for less than half a minute.
She absolutely, positively despised him.
"Where's Suigetsu?" she snapped, picking up the bowl of 'food' he'd left beside her at some point in their argument.
"...Why?"
"I don't want you guarding me. It's hard to even eat with you around—you make me sick. I prefer Suigetsu." She sniffed the grey, slightly jiggling blob that she was about to spoon apart and put in her mouth. Oatmeal, maybe? "At least he never pretended to be something he isn't."
"What you want is irrelevant."
"God, words can't describe how much of a piece of shit you are. I can't believe I ever—"
"Then stop annoying me and go back to playing with your imaginary friends." His gaze was slivers of mismatched red and purple, unmoving on the parchment his fingers dug in to. "That's who you were talking to, Sakura. A dead person."
His words sunk in like Black Receivers—a heady nausea coursing through her gut as if she'd consumed putrid fish. Strong enough that the smell of whatever was on the spoon aiming to pass through her lips about made her gag.
Indeed, his cruelty made her sick. "Good one, Sasuke."
Her eyes felt muggy and too full again as she dropped the bowl on the ground, uneaten, and curled back under the blankets to cry.
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In the ensuing hours, Sasuke resumed the cold shoulder. He was irritable and angry, and Sakura didn't know why he bothered hanging around in the tent when it appeared he wished to be anywhere else. When she most definitely wished him anywhere else.
It wasn't like he wasn't free to leave whenever he wanted. Yet, he remained.
Sitting on the rocky ground, leaned against a tent post, scroll after scroll unsealed, read, and resealed. With every passing minute, the air about him dipped in temperature, his mood clearly darkening.
Not that she cared or wanted to notice. It was simply impossible not to with him only three feet away.
And when her thoughts spun to Sasuke, the ground felt a bit more solid. The burlap looked a bit more real. The air smelled of winter and dirt instead of rotting flesh and fresh blood.
When she thought about how she didn't want to think about Sasuke, the battlefield ebbed away.
And she hated it. Hated him. Hated the growing warmth on her neck and the way honey-colored eyes filled with an emotion she couldn't pinpoint swamped her brain every time she thought his name.
He stifled the horror, but the feelings he pulled out in return were overwhelmingly painful. So powerful that Sakura had to grip her chest and press on her heart to bear it.
The more she thought about it, though she shouldn't have, the less it made sense.
The agreement. His cooperation and his betrayal. His silence in that last battle—his cold brutality—the way he'd knelt to her level to talk to her, a captive, twice now. How, in the span of a few hours, he seemed to wholly abandon his typical aloof demeanor.
If she didn't know any better, she'd even think it felt a bit like he was mad at her.
But she did know better. And anyway, there was nothing sensible that he could be upset with her for. He was the one who'd done this; or even in the light most favorable to him, he hadn't done a thing to stop it.
After hours of circular thought and thinking about not thinking about Sasuke, Sakura finally concluded that she was irreparably broken. Her mind appeared set on reasoning its way out of the righteous anger she rationally and logically should feel for the man—forever.
That couldn't happen. For the sake of Naruto, Tsunade, probably Kakashi, and everyone else who died in that final battle, she must hate Sasuke.
She could never forgive him—would never forgive him.
The new mantra echoed in her brain.
"Sasuke, it's time." Orochimaru's voice rang outside the tent, jolting her out of herself. "Bring your pet along and let's go together."
Sakura peeked out from under her blanket in time to see the scowl pass over Sasuke's face. It flitted away just as swiftly as he stood and walked the short distance to the entrance. He pushed the flap open just enough to fit his head through it, blocking her view of the outside.
"Clothes?" His hand disappeared briefly; then he turned with a bundle of gray cotton and held it out in her direction. "Put these on."
The seal tingled and her mind fuzzed when she sat up to take the garments without thought of disobeying. Though it was still the plain clothes of a prisoner, the long-sleeved shirt and pants were in-lined with fur.
Sakura glanced back up at Sasuke. "Why?"
"It's cold."
"The blanket is enough."
"There's a ceremony. Madara's ordered your attendance."
Despite knowing it wasn't an option, she still heard herself asking, "What if I say that I won't go?"
"The Yamanaka will be punished."
"You know her name. You know Ino." The fury that had settled in the stillness between them reared its head for a second fight. "You grew up with us too, Sasuke. Stop referring to her like some stranger so you feel better about what you've done to her."
"What I've done to her?" Sasuke's fingers found the bridge of his nose. It wasn't a habit she'd known him to have. "This is stupid. I won't argue with a captive. Do as you're told, for once."
If she were being honest, she didn't feel like arguing either. It only riled her up for nothing. Whether she screamed, or cried, or cursed him to hell—in the end, she'd be no better than where she started: a chakra-less prisoner.
It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. There wasn't any point in shouting herself into tears. No one cared. Sakura wasn't even sure why she had to keep reminding herself of this point.
So she dropped her biting tone. "She'll be punished…just for my not going somewhere?"
"For any disobedience. After she's punished, you will be too."
His frankness was claws raking her skin.
"...Why did you do this, Sasuke? To her." She couldn't stop the question from pouring out, but that wasn't really what she wanted to know. "...To me?"
"Your side's incompetence did this. Now change."
Her hands brushed over the clean shirt in her lap.
She should fight. Should say that she wouldn't change—wouldn't go—wouldn't follow his orders. Do anything except give in to what he and his master wanted of her. She'd never been anything but a fighter.
But—what did it matter? There was nothing left to fight for. Even if she spurned him here, he'd force her if he had to. If he wanted. She'd wind up wherever Madara wished for her to be.
He'd won. He'd always win.
So why bother? "At least—don't watch."
"Don't flatter yourself." His words brought broiling shame to her cheeks. Before she remembered that she didn't care. Sasuke rotated to face the wall, his back to her. "Hurry up."
Minutes later, when she followed Sasuke out of the tent, Orochimaru was patiently waiting. Arms tucked into his long white robes. Leveling her with an awful smirk.
"Hello again, Sakura Haruno."
The sunlight momentarily blinded her, and it took nearly all her energy not to recoil from it. A human wasn't meant to be hidden away from the sun for a month and a half. The warmth of it on her skin, even in the frigid January air, almost brought her to her knees.
Their tent was erected in one of Earth's sparse forests. Nothing but trees surrounded them in every direction. Although she'd noticed a distinct lack of sound coming from outside the tent, she'd assumed Sasuke merely placed a silencing jutsu around their lodging to confuse her.
Her brow furrowed. Where is everyone?
"No handcuffs?" remarked Orochimaru.
"She's already suppressed. The cuffs aren't necessary," Sasuke replied.
Orochimaru regarded her with amusement. "I'm confident that Madara would prefer her visibly chained."
Sighing, Sasuke ducked back into the tent.
He was right: A kunoichi with no chakra couldn't hope to run from or fend off a high-tier shinobi, let alone two. Shackled or not. Since coming here, she hadn't even thought to try, especially when she didn't know where here was.
Sakura met Orochimaru's sly gaze and lifted her chin. Every time he'd shown himself to her in the past month, she'd been weak and crying. Hopefully, this was the beginning of the end for that.
The Sannin quirked his lip. "You have something to say to me?"
"Just that everyone was right about you," she said smoothly. "Like a true snake, as soon as my usefulness in protecting your precious student ended, you turned your back on me."
With a tilt of his head, he taunted, "You assume I was ever facing you."
Sasuke reappeared before she could spit something nasty at the man, holding the cuffs he'd taken off yesterday. His scrutiny passed between her and his mentor once, then firmly settled on her hands.
"Arms out."
Indifferently, she did as she was told. It wasn't like it mattered.
When the metal clicked into place around her wrists, the Sannin let out an icy chuckle.
"You've made her so compliant in such a short time, dear Sasuke."
"Orochimaru." Every syllable of the name was laced with a threat.
Sakura peered at Sasuke from under her lashes, slightly surprised by the lethal aura leeching out of him.
The man only tutted. "Yes, yes. We'll need to run. Would you like to carry her, or shall I?"
Bristling at the suggestion, Sakura grimaced. "Neither."
The three of them paused for a moment. Then Sasuke nipped his thumb between his teeth, knelt to the ground, and smoothed his palm onto the earth.
"I'd rather not travel on Aoda, either," she mumbled—and was promptly ignored.
Or so she thought as black summoning markings materialized around Sasuke. Two seconds later, a massive hawk popped into existence, tilting its beak toward its summoner with a friendly trill.
Sasuke straightened to pat the huge bird like one might a kitten. The sight had Sakura biting back a gawk and shrinking away, sick with herself for the fading flash of warm feelings that soaked her.
"You run," Sasuke told his mentor. "Garuda can only carry two comfortably. Unless you'd like to ride in his talons."
"For such a short distance?" Orochimaru mused.
"Go. You'll be late."
"Not if you plan to accompany her through the base by yourself."
Sasuke was beside her in the next breath, wrapping an arm around her and jumping them onto the hawk's back before she could protest. His touch fell away as soon as her new boots touched down.
"Lay flat and hold on," he ordered, disregarding Orochimaru.
"To what?"
"His feathers. It won't hurt him."
"I didn't—AH!"
The hawk shot up into the air.
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It took them less than five minutes to reach the camp. Sakura gazed down at it from over Garuda's wings, mouth open and eyes wide despite herself.
It was a massive, sprawling city in the making. Rock buildings jutted up from the earth in the center, flowing out into new construction, lined with tents of all sizes on the outskirts. Sakura had no idea where specifically in Earth Country they were, but if she had to guess, she was viewing the settlement Hidan supposedly oversaw above the last coordinate.
From above, it was a beautifully stark thing—all shades of brown and grey mixing with the rock beneath as if melding with the earth itself.
Whoever designed it was doing so with skill; even her untrained observation could attest to that. So much so that Sakura had to wonder if the designer knew, while he labored for Madara, that no one would ever truly praise his beautiful city should the Uchiha ultimately attain his goal.
Sasuke shouted something she couldn't understand over the wind, and they descended into the tented area on the city's southern rim.
When the hawk finally touched down, her fingers were stiff and sore. She'd flown many times on various summons but never without chakra. Her arms felt like noodles. The stinging bite of the winter air didn't help.
Is this how civilians always lived? How did they do anything?
Before Sasuke could help her off in the same way he'd gotten her on, she released Garuda's massive feather and slid off its side. He jumped down beside her as soon as she landed, trapping her between his chest and the bird. Cornering her in.
Sakura chose the bird. Ignoring how unpleasantly it moved against her skin, she pressed her back into a wing until a sharp chirp warned her that was far enough.
Sasuke tapped a sealing scroll wrapped around his wrist, calling a black cape into existence.
"Put this on and keep your head down. Don't speak. Don't make eye contact. And don't try to run—got it?"
He shook out the robe once, shooting her a glimpse laced with an unsaid order. After a brief internal debate in which Does it even matter? once again won out, she took a single step closer to him. Creating space between her and Garuda.
Sasuke swept the cape over her shoulders and pulled the deep hood over her head. When his hands dipped to tie it closed on her neck, she shifted away.
"Take the hood off. I won't hide."
With him so close and her wrists locked together at her waist, she couldn't do it on her own.
"No." His denial was swift, without any deliberation.
"Sasuke." Sakura glared up at him. It was still almost painful to see him head-on, even though she knew he wasn't looking his best. Even though she hated him now. The tomoe of his Rinnegan rotated imperceptibly. Heat sunk down her chest. "Take it off."
Eyes narrowing, mouth flattening into a line, he tugged the hood back more forcefully than needed. She felt her hair flutter out of its confinement, tickling her neck.
"Brave their scorn, then."
"You've given me plenty of practice."
There was a flash of anger in his stare at her words. Real anger—and she was once more hit with the thought that it seemed like he was upset with her. Truly, viscerally upset, not simply annoyed that she kept talking back. More like the kind of wrath she'd seen in him on that snowy Lightning Country field; the kind of crazed rage he'd shown under the Samurai Bridge.
Were these his true feelings all along? she thought. He'd hidden the true depths of his loathing so well over the course of the agreement, if so. Especially in the end, during their training. The only negative feelings she'd seen from him was annoyance in those months.
Perhaps if she unlocked the already-decaying cage around their seal, she could hear what was causing his mask to slip so uncharacteristically.
But she wouldn't. Since she didn't care. Since she was the one truly, viscerally upset with him.
Still, she wasn't accustomed to handling such a thing from Sasuke directly; the apprehension it brewed had her adding a stilted, "What? It's true, isn't it?"
He moved away from her, pulling his own hood up. "I won't stop any consequences you bring down upon yourself here, no matter how loud this damned seal gets."
As if I was expecting you to do anything like that. It was a pointless scuffle to have, however—so she kept the words to herself and merely nodded.
"You may go, Garuda," he said. The hawk cawed once, then popped away. As soon as it was gone, he was prowling towards the camp without waiting for her. "Madara ordered you walked through the city. Follow closely, prisoner."
She did.
The tented area of the new city was exactly like a war base; walking through it, Sakura felt more comfortable than she had in weeks. Even surrounded by enemies. Even being guided like a dog by the worst man alive.
Their arrival caused something of a scene.
Heads were popping out of tents as they passed through. The occasional passerby steadily grew into streams of shinobi the deeper they got.
Everyone on this base knew the man in front of her—eyes lowered to the ground as he neared, bows of acknowledgment waved through the swelling crowds. A chorus of Uchiha-sama and Sasuke-sama rippled in his wake.
It seemed everyone also knew her. If they hadn't heard that Sakura Haruno, top Ally medical commander, summoner of Lady Katsuyu was caught in the final battle, they assuredly knew that only a handful of kunoichi in the world had pink hair.
And only one could warrant a cuffed parade through a base, escorted by the army's top general.
A few shinobi did double-takes on her back. Some barely bothered to bow to their superior before aiming a rueful and mocking leer her way. The whispers were impossible not to hear. Sakura kept her head held high, though she was careful not to catch any lingering looks.
Turn after turn, road after road. It felt like Sasuke intended to corral her around the entire base. The words thrown her way grew louder—the threats more descriptive. The catcalls more disturbing.
She wasn't afraid. She wasn't. Her chin jutted out even further.
But when something hard as stone cracked against the base of her neck, she couldn't hold back the shaky shout that left her or the way she'd stumbled into Sasuke like he might do anything to help. The rock tumbled back to the ground as the crowd of enemies tittered at her.
It hadn't been thrown very hard, but her pride still stung with the indignation of it all.
They'd finally made it out of the tents and into the streets of the new stone buildings. Over 20 shinobi were mulling around them—a pack of hyenas circling prey. She'd been focusing on not focusing on anyone in particular, so it was impossible to know which one threw it. Now that she scanned them, none were recognizable, and none appeared notably strong.
Without the metal on her ankles sapping her dry, she was confident she'd trounce them all. Maybe even at once.
Pathetic, she sneered, glaring at any of them who'd meet her eye.
These were the type of ninja who'd never dare face her in real battle. The kind who hid in the masses and avoided anyone dangerous.
Belatedly, she realized she was still clinging to the back of Sasuke's robes. As if he were a hot iron, she cringed away, straightening her spine and resuming her act of nonchalance.
Pathetic, she thought again, unsure whether she meant him or herself.
He'd paused their procession, gazing at her over his shoulder. She raised her chin anew and met the Rinnegan, daring him to comment—daring him to mock her when he did this.
She wasn't afraid. She wasn't embarrassed. These miscreants should've been embarrassed of themselves.
If she was going to suffer in this crowd, so be it. She'd never expected Sasuke to protect her from his side's abuse. The rock had only surprised her. That was all. If he planned to let her be stoned to death in these streets, at least she'd succeed in dying. She most definitely would not go begging him to save her.
"Just keep moving," she hissed, finally glancing away from him and his perfectly—sickeningly so—arched brow.
A flicker of purple flame jumped to life between their feet. Then massive, ghostly, violet ribs were branching around her, encasing the two of them.
"I told you to stay close, prisoner." His voice rose on the following sentence—"If you fall behind, I'll leave you to the army, regardless of Madara's wish for you to arrive safely."
It was both a warning to her and to the encircling enemies, watching her like ravenous hounds.
On both accounts, it worked. Sakura obediently sided closer to him, nearly treading on his heel with every forward motion. Mindful not to touch Susanoo. The whispers grew less vitriolic; nothing else was thrown in their direction.
When they finally turned a corner into an excavated stadium already filled with attendees, Sakura knew they'd reached their destination. Lines of seats funneled into a podium plainly meant for the main attraction. Reminding her of Madara's stage in the Land of Tea.
Sakura skimmed the crowd, trying to assess what she was walking in to. It was a large enough arena to fit thousands. A majority of the seats were already occupied.
Madara clearly intended to put on a show.
Squinting, she tried to make out any of the shinobi standing on stage in the distance. Orochimaru's pristine white robes were immediately discernible. Beside him was someone in an Akatsuki robe, which could've been Suigetsu, by the frame. The other dozen shinobi wore variations of Akatsuki garb and black winter clothes that gave nothing away as her survey flitted down the line.
But there, at the very end by the edge—seated, pushed out ahead of the shinobi standing behind—
Her throat closed up. Her arms shot out to fist in Sasuke's sleeve.
"Ino!"
"Watch it!" He yanked away from her fingers. Susanoo dispelled around them, opening her entirely to the immense crowd now surrounding them. "You'll not touch me again, kunoichi."
"You didn't tell me Ino would be here," she whispered angrily, sights never leaving her friend's slumped silhouette. "You said she wasn't in Earth."
"Why would I tell a prisoner anything?" asked Sasuke, to the delighted snickers of a few shinobi they strode past.
Stop talking! fluttered in and out of her thoughts, so quiet she almost missed it. The seal hummed as her mouth sealed shut.
She was too stunned to say anything else, anyway. It felt like a dream as they approached the podium. Anticipation and relief raked through her veins. The shouting crowd floated away.
Like her, Ino's ankles were wrapped in metal; wrists bound in handcuffs. But where Sakura was dressed for a winter day, they'd left Ino in a dingy, grey dress that exposed her arms and shins to the frosty air. Her skin was dirtied, hair loose and matted and lacking its beautiful shine. Ino looked bony, and weak. Her eyes were closed to the gathering, chest moving up and down in measured seconds.
Ino was counting her breaths.
She wanted Ino to see her—to meet her gaze and know that she wasn't alone. She wanted Ino to know that she was going to get her out of this.
They finally hit the podium's stairs; it took everything in Sakura not to run to her friend's side. So consumed with seeing Ino, she hadn't realized six other shinobi were cuffed and seated next to the woman.
Don't acknowledge them, came a whisper.
Sakura steeled her nerves as Sasuke led her before a man and woman she'd never seen before. Possibly from Kiri, bearing the marks of a very recent, brutal beating. The woman was so similar to Suigetsu that Sakura could've taken them for siblings.
There was Omoi, with a busted lip and the slightest of nods. Akatsuchi, whose stern regard never left the crowd. Another shinobi she didn't know and couldn't place, tears wet on his cheeks, a bandaged, bleeding stump where his left arm should be; his right cuffed with a long chain connecting to his ankle suppressor, instead. Baki, Gaara's sensei, stoic and carefully observing her.
At least three other high-ranking shinobi—collared. Four when counting Ino. If Madara decided to showcase them like this, Sakura could only assume the three she didn't know were also of high rank in their respective divisions.
Some appeared to have already undergone interrogations. How long would they last? The man beside Baki didn't seem like he'd hold out much longer. Could any of them be trusted not to sell out Allied secrets? Were they all willing to die before doing so?
The thoughts flew through her mind, quick and frightened. Any one of them could sink them all.
Suigetsu mentioned other prisoners, but she hadn't even entertained the idea of this many Classed 9 shinobi being involved. Including herself, Madara had at least five. At least five people who knew far more about the Allied army than most of the whole world combined.
Who were the other three shinobi? What Class were they?
What if there were more? What if she and these seven captives were just the easiest to transport here?
What does it matter? her subconscious asked, throwing up a blockade to her spiraling. The Allies are done, there's nothing left to protect but Ino.
Ino—right.
Ino was here. This was her chance to start working on a plan to get Ino out.
There was an empty chair beside Ino that Sasuke guided her to. Before she could step around him to take her seat and wake Ino up, Sasuke pivoted to face her.
"If you try to run, I'll lock you up for another month," he warned. He must've seen how her lip curled because he added, "If you try anything, I'll make sure this is the last time you see Ino."
Sasuke marched away without a response, moving to join the shinobi behind their seats. This close, she could easily see who they were—though she only knew a couple by name. Hidan was lazing furthest away. A man she recognized from her time in the Land of Tea beside him.
And Orochimaru was standing next to Suigetsu.
The Kiri nukenin winked at her, clapping Sasuke on the back when he took a spot beside him. "Good job following orders this time, Sasuke. Thought that kunoichi was a dead woman when Orochimaru said you'd brought her here!"
"She won't last long under torture, anyway," said Sasuke, batting the man's touch off him. "Whether I kill her now or in three weeks is no matter."
"Three weeks? Ha! Not giving your fellow Konoha shinobi much credit, huh?"
"Stop talking to me," Sasuke growled.
Sakura looked away, ignoring how her chest ached at the callous way he spoke of slaying her, and took her seat. Ino still hadn't opened her eyes. Reaching out, she gently wrapped Ino's arm in a warm grip.
"Ino?"
"No touching!" someone yelled from behind.
Sakura withdrew her arms at the same moment that Ino peered over at her. Recognition blossomed on Ino's face, but her only response was two hard and fast blinks, one after the other.
Sakura frowned at the non-answer. "What's wrong?" Examining Ino's state more closely, Sakura noticed that many dirty spots on Ino's skin were actually healing bruises. Under Ino's bottom lashes was a dark shade of purple. Her fingers twitched as if hit by electricity every few seconds. Tears were welling—but they were on display in front of thousands of enemies, so Sakura wouldn't let them fall. "Ino? Please, can you say something? Are you okay?"
"S-Sakura?" Ino stuttered, vision drifting from Sakura's hair down to her toes. "Is it really you?"
"Yes! Ino—Gods, Ino, I was so worried—" Unconsciously, her hands flew out to embrace Ino.
"Are you deaf or dumb? No. Touching!" came another shout.
Ino seemed to understand what was going on, finally; she leaned towards Sakura, eyes watery and a smile on her lips. "You're alive! You're alive—I thought you were dead, Sakura! I thought—"
"Me too—"
"You were so bloody and that man was holding you up and making you watch, and I thought—"
"Don't cry, Ino. It's okay." Sakura wished this wasn't happening in a stadium. She wished they weren't cuffed, that she could wrap Ino in a hug and inhale warm lilac. Wished that Ino could cry until she felt better—but she couldn't. Not here. "I'm okay. Don't let these bastards see you cry."
"I'm sorry," she whispered, sniffling. "I just can't believe—"
"I know. I'm sorry, too."
"Are they hurting you?" asked Ino.
"No…not really. Are they hurting you?"
She shook her head. "Only when I tried to escape."
"Listen." Sakura lowered her voice, confident that the frenzied crowd would cover most of her words if she were careful. "I'm going to get you out of this. Okay?"
"No, now that I know you're alive, I'm getting you out," Ino promised, conviction written all over her. Her whole aura seemed to brighten, shoulders squaring and fingers growing still. "Did you get someone to seal you before you got caught?"
"I—no, but—"
"Thought so. Only me and Omoi are sealed. That's why you need to focus on yourself, and I'll start working on it too. Someone managed to get one on me before I wound up in a cell, so whether or not I escape doesn't matter. I can't give up anything."
"I don't care about that!" Sakura snapped. "You're getting out alive."
Ino's tone edged on begging. "I don't care about it either! I'd get you out even if you were sealed, Sakura. But I thought a good reason for it would make you agree!"
"I won't leave you here, Pig. We'll work together on your escape. That's the end of it."
"That's my line."
The two women stared at one another.
Didn't Ino want to leave? Why was she refusing to accept help?
"I can't lose you too," she whispered, imploring Ino to understand.
"Me either, Sakura!" Ino all but shouted, cheeks splotchy. "I won't!"
"Alright, ladies, settle down. Oh, sorry—I meant losers!" Suigetsu chuckled at his own joke, drawing a few laughs from the others around him.
"Everyone shut up and look ahead," came Sasuke's sharp command. Ino's brow rose as her head swiveled back to the group behind them. He sneered as their eyes met. "Ahead is the other direction, prisoner."
"Sasuke?" Ino's voice suddenly rung above all others. "You…?"
The seal on her neck pulsed with a warning, so sultry and brisk it flushed over her like boiling water.
Ino was going to out Sasuke.
Right here—before half his army. She was suddenly certain of it.
Would the seal on her tongue allow it? The agreement wasn't exactly the secrets of war it was designed to protect, though Sasuke had technically been a contact the seal should include. Though—it hadn't included Sasuke when Sai—
Her foot shot out to kick Ino's ankle, ending her train of thought while simultaneously startling herself. Ino hissed, turning away from Sasuke, shooting her a surprised gape.
"Last warning. I'll whip you both right here if you touch her again, Haruno."
"Relax, Kajura. If the women want to fight—" She heard Suigetsu suck on his teeth. "I say we let 'em!"
"...That hurt, Forehead."
Sakura kept her stare pinned on an empty seat in the middle of the stadium. "Just look forward. I don't want you to be punished for not listening…please."
Though she wasn't looking, Sakura could feel Ino's narrowed study on her profile.
"Did you…already know Sasuke was here?"
Sakura nodded. "He's always been with Madara, so…"
Ino muttered a curse. "I told them they'd regret—"
"Shh." Sakura hadn't a clue what possessed her to protect Sasuke twice in a row, but the thought of Ino disclosing that he'd once betrayed Madara sent her nerves off in a panic. It might bring death to Sasuke, but it very likely also brought death to Ino for saying it. "Don't talk about that. Ever. Okay?"
Sakura met Ino's gaze. Even if they torture you for it. She hoped her friend could read the plea in her bearing.
A shadowed understanding darkened sky-blue irises. "Sakura, are you—"
"You brought the medic in one piece, Sasuke. I'm pleasantly surprised," Madara drawled from the back of the podium. "I hate having to reprimand family, after all."
Sakura jumped away from Ino immediately, training her expression to show nothing. Even the atmosphere itself shifted as the Uchiha patriarch's footfalls clicked on the stone of the platform.
"I told you the seal would be beneficial," said Orochimaru.
"So you did." Madara had made his way to the opposite end of the chairs and was inspecting the two beaten Kiri ninja. "The others are a bit worse for wear, though."
He slowly moved down the line, analyzing each cuffed shinobi. When he reached Ino and Sakura, a sickening grin graced his lips. His sweep of them was brief, however; he swung to face the crowd.
"Alright, everyone, quiet down."
Silence swept the stadium.
In another life, Madara was a performer, Sakura thought as she observed the throng of thousands of mute enemies. He seemed to enjoy these grand gestures and enraptured attention. And worse: he was good at it.
Hands clasped behind his back, Madara paced slowly from one side of the stage to the other. "Today, we mark an end of an era. The fighting is over! The battle is won!" The crowd cheered so loud she felt it pounding in her skull. "But just because we have struck the final blow does not mean the war is over."
Madara stilled his stride, swiveling his shoulders to his audience. "What is it that you want? Power?" A few brave shinobi shouted in agreement. "Freedom? Revenge?" More were shouting now. Sakura heard the pleasure in Madara's voice from their excitement. "When you joined me, I promised that I would give you whatever you desired in return for your loyalty. The war isn't over until I deliver that to all of you."
The whole crowd was cheering again. Sakura closed her eyes and prayed for it to end soon.
"Peace. True peace. That is what I most desire. An end to frivolous fighting. All I wanted was peace, yet so many people had to die—that was never what I hoped for. The Kage wanted this death. The Kage wanted to wage endless wars. They sought to continuously spit out more and more child soldiers, create fake justifications, and strengthen their own power to bring destruction to anyone who sought better! They never cared about you. They never cared about protecting you, or empowering you. The Kage and the system they built only cared about themselves."
He'd enthralled them by now. A hawk sang somewhere far outside the city, clear as day in the hushed arena.
"But their endless lust was cut down by us, finally. After five years, we have come to the final stretch. To bring Infinite Tsukuyomi into existence—to make possible your wildest dreams, whatever they may be—we still need the power of all nine jinchuriki. We've defeated the Allies, yes! But their remnants remain, hiding away like the roaches, protecting the final two jinchuriki needed to bring peace across these lands." Two? Sakura's lungs hitched. Two jinchuriki? "These two pieces are the last required for me to make good on my promise to you, that I will give you whatever you most seek. To bring you the power, or the freedom, or the revenge you so desire. It's true. We mark an end of an era today—and begin a new one."
Sakura glanced at Ino, who was grimacing at her bound wrists laid in her lap. She'd spent over a month believing Ino died. Was—was it possible? Could Naruto—
"The Eight Tails is still hiding. Somewhere on this continent, barricaded like a coward. The Nine Tails is dead, struck down by my hand."
Her stomach felt like it bottomed out of her in an instant. Her eyes burned, her throat swelled. Screams of battle rose up from the earth. Why had she let herself be hopeful? Why? The air warmed with the heat of fresh corpses. Her chair was sinking into their mush, hands were crawling up her ankles—she'd let Naruto die—she hadn't done anything—
Breathe, Sakura. Remember where you are right now.
Sakura gulped in air as the seal pulsed against her neck, warm and numbing. Focused on the crowd hazing back into solid form—alive, not rotting bodies.
Madara was still grandstanding. "Though his body was hidden away before it could be recovered. Stolen by this kunoichi before you." With a point of his finger, a thousand stares hit her at once. Her mind reeled. Breathe! floated a deep murmur. "Look where her misplaced loyalty landed her! Weak and abandoned, with no one coming to save her. Not just her—all eight of these prisoners were ranking shinobi for their armies. All of them chose their Kage over peace, and all it got them were chains."
The armless shinobi sobbed. She heard Akatsuchi softly snap at him.
"This is why you chose me over the Kage. The Kage were weak parasites, hiding behind their numbers for protection because they feared me. You chose me so you wouldn't end up like these fools." Madara yanked the gunbai off his back and slammed its head onto the podium, leaning on it as if chatting with a friend. "Do not think for a moment that you can't join them should you decide to betray me now. We need the Kyuubi's husk. We need the Hachibi's host. Unlike the defeated Kage, I reward those who remain loyal. Find me the last two pieces, and I will honor all of you with your wildest dreams."
Maybe me and Mondays just aren't going to work out lol
It's harder for me to reply to comments here than on AO3-
but know I see them and see you readers and appreciate it all!
.
thanks for reading, as always.
and thanks to Leech for beta-reading