9
"Stay."
Madara's command was simple, his tone unwavering and steely. Wind and rain swept past him through the shadowed alley, the cold cloud-washed day a living gloom that shifted around his stony features.
Sakura tossed him a disdainful glance, her head high. "I have no reason to stay." She drew up where she stood in the open doorway, her fingers so tight upon the door handle that the metal was denting beneath her fingers.
She willed herself to disappear as he stepped towards her with a hiss, his long robes dripping with rain. "Do not act like a child."
Sakura flattened back against the door as Madara was suddenly standing next to her, pale as a ghost in the flat gray light. "Are you satisfied yet with your petty revenge? How many more times will you flee from me?" He leaned over Sakura as she automatically manoeuvred away from him, one foot slipping back onto the lower step; she grimaced as he growled down at her, swerving to face her once more. "Are you too weak-willed to keep playing along? Have I gotten too close to the mark in finding your heedless original? Or are you properly afraid now that I have made the consequences of your actions clear to you?"
Sakura took another halting step backwards, her sandal splashing in a freezing puddle. They had traded places now; Madara towered upon the highest step, his shadow cutting across where Sakura stood in the rainy breeze with green eyes ablaze. Her fingers twitched; her blood burned as she held Madara's luminescent stare that smouldered bright like clashing fires in his rain-misted pale face.
Fight. He'd invited her rage with his own, and again she yearned to throw her fists at him, to make him her punching bag, and this time perhaps sate her thirst for vengeance: but Sakura released her fists, drawing in a short, frustrated breath as she blinked up at where he loomed before her. No: Madara was baiting her anger, baiting her to stay, to argue, to fight. She was doing exactly what he wanted, and the best thing she could do for her sake and against his would be to disappear.
Disappear, and Sakura held his narrowing stare as she ignored the rain streaming down her face like tears, willing herself again — again, to dismiss herself and end this tension. It would be pointless to argue, and worse to fight, as much as she wanted to. With how destructive the both of them were, the entirety of this district would easily be levelled in the aftermath of their warpath. If Sakura were to release her own rage alone, she would risk destroying these neighbourhoods of innocent people's homes, and within Konoha itself. Fighting simply wasn't an option. Not here.
Disappear: but the words escaped her mouth before she could stop herself, her voice carrying high across the winds to Madara where he stood poised to kill. "How can you even ask me such things?" she hissed, all of her wounded sentiments rising like ash from her internal fires. "Have you conveniently forgotten the way you utterly devalued me in our last argument? I'm surprised you dare goad me after all you've said. It just proves to me how vile you really are." Sakura drew a ragged breath, her rage rattling within her chest as her fists dug into her palms so tightly that her nails tore against the leather of her gloves.
Her snarl echoed down the alleyway, her tone lashed with sarcasm. "Why do you think I haven't bothered wasting my time talking to you? There's so many reasons, but none of them matter; soon I'll be leaving again, because you made me understand that I'm worth your entertainment, but not any kind of real effort. A self-proclaimed god like you will never stoop to having a meaningful conversation with someone like me."
She was breathing hard, and Madara's eyes were narrowed, taking in her venomous words for a moment before shaking his head with a sigh. "I'm disappointed," he intoned coldly, "perhaps I overestimated your intelligence. To think you would take everything from our conversation from before at face value…"
Her eyes widened briefly at his insult before she turned away, reminding herself that she shouldn't grace him with how she felt. He didn't deserve to know; he would never understand, nor try to. She had been fool enough to feel anything other than cold hatred in the first place.
Shutting her eyes briefly, Sakura wiped the rain from her face, hating how affected she was by this situation. Why couldn't she feel apathetic towards Madara? Why hadn't she been able to let her hate take her over and burn away any untoward emotions into a clean slate?
Sakura strode several steps away and stopped again. Her brows twitched as she brought her shadowed gaze to the side, just enough to see in her peripheral vision that Madara continued to stand and watch her imperiously from the high step beside the back exit door. Though she hadn't expected him to pursue nor reach for her, she hated that he hadn't tried anyway. Why would he? She was nothing to him but an obstacle, something she should have continually understood from the beginning.
"I'm never speaking with you again. I—" Sakura lifted her head to meet Madara's eyes through the shadows. "—I hate you."
Madara stood tall upon the high step, regarding her with a slow blink.
Sakura withdrew a little further into the falling rain, heart pounding painfully. She swallowed tightly, her words ringing out through the alley around them. She ignored the bitter taste they left on her tongue, sour, like they were long-expired; she refused to take them back, standing still and awaiting Madara's reaction with paused breath.
His long, slow sigh drifted into the wind, lost in the rain that drizzled in whispering sheets through the alley. Set above a deepened frown, mismatched eyes settled upon Sakura; weary, yet unwavering.
Surely, more of his cruel poison was soon to strike her, worsening all that she felt. Staying was the worst thing to do, and yet it was all Sakura could do, her words given, her hate bidden, as concerningly thin as it seemed to be. She found that she was in a different kind of spell as she and Madara stood in a tension-bound silence, the rain pattering all around them in cold sky-driven sheets.
Disappear. Sakura wanted to look away, but found she could not, as if invisible hands kept her still where she stood. Her skin tingled as she shifted slightly to make sure that there weren't.
She swallowed tightly as she held Madara's intense attention with a subtly challenging, unapologetic glare through the stinging through her ribs. The wounds he'd left her continued to bleed through the back of her vision, and she was almost begging herself to disappear now, unwilling to let him lacerate her more deeply. Already, she would think of him ceaselessly every day to come. Sleep would only promise nightmares, featuring all he'd shown her in that genjutsu in every spice and sweet flavour. His voice, his image, and everything she understood of him would continue to torment her. That endless, turning guilt followed every thought she'd keep of him, leaving her hating herself more than she could hate him.
Madara pulled open the door behind him. It creaked plaintively as he leaned upon it, the warmth within drifting out past where Sakura lingered in the rain.
One dark, gloved hand extended outwards into the chilled air between them. "Come, then."
The rain fell harder in response. It pelted down the tiled rooftops, its percussion metallic as it splashed off pipes and pooled in the compact dirt of the street. The wind brushed between their feet, the distant sounds of rustling boots and crowds' chatter keeping the main roads alive beyond the alley where Sakura and Madara stood in opposition. In all the noisy life of their surroundings, a certain quiet hung where his dark palm remained suspended in awaiting invitation.
Flicking between his extended hand and his face, Sakura's wide eyes narrowed mistrustingly. Every sweep of her searching gaze across Madara's deadly serious expression found no trace of mockery nor cruelty; only a grim look of resolve.
Shivering in her rain-drenched clothes, Sakura took another step back, never taking her eyes from Madara. Sensing her complete mistrust, Madara tilted his head back towards the open door, holding her searching gaze. "If it will placate you… then let us speak."
That offered hand remained, slick with the raindrops that fell through his fingers.
Sakura remained where she was, heart pounding painfully. Nights of pain, days of rage lashed out at her for even just lingering this long, and though she had no intention of stepping forward, the way Madara regarded her was changed, if subtly. The muted epiphanies from her earlier talk with her mother bit into her throat, hanging on tooth and nail.
Gloved fingers twitched in the long silence. Sakura's heart turned over in her chest; she stared at Madara's palm, the things his gesture symbolised clashing against the reasons she needed to disappear. She should have gone already.
Madara began to retract his hand, releasing the door behind him with a scowl. "Fine, then."
Slender fingers slid over his, dipping into his rain-slick palm and gently grasping as Sakura stepped forward, her soft answer steady as she spoke. "No, I… would love to."
Gloved fingers closed over hers. Madara pulled Sakura back to the highest step beside where he stood, a pleased spark dancing across his eyes. She drew up at his side, the roaring of her thoughts fighting one another almost louder than the slamming of her heartbeat through her ears.
Madara loomed over her with a foreboding rumble. "Let me clarify this here and now so that you do not have false expectations: cease any hopes that you might move me. We will not end the war in a discussion."
Sakura shut her eyes, reconsidering her impulsive decision. What instinct had it been that she had followed in taking his hand? Survival? Or something different — something dangerous?
She stiffened as gloved fingers flexed around her captive ones. Warm breath brushed across her rain-drenched features, her closed eyelids fluttering slightly from the sensation. "However, said discussion will also correct your misconceptions." Sakura's eyes slowly opened as a fingertip slid along her cheek; she didn't protest, pupils dilating as she traced her gaze across Madara's glinting stare. It wasn't an apology, but she could feel the regret in his touch, like there was a chance one might yet come to be.
Suspended in a pause wrought by thrill-bent uncertainty, Sakura let her attention trail along the familiar hues of Madara's gaze, reading whatever she could glean with just a look. She could feel his tired relief in the softening of the shadows underlining his eyes; an amused twitch in his brows from her blatant staring, and she tasted that addictive adrenaline when her investigative stare ran into a dark heat she'd been looking for where it lived within his pupils.
That lingering finger trailed along Sakura's fine jaw before disappearing; Sakura blinked a few times, breathing in slowly, the forest-fire scents of Madara's close proximity warming the scents of rainy petrichor that misted around where the two of them stood.
Sakura shut her eyes again, annoyed with herself. Damn him. She had missed this more than she had wanted to admit: every encounter with Madara was a heady, fiery thrill, no matter the tone of it, and it seemed to only become more intense each time, drawing her deeper into some kind of lethal addiction. Before, it had been mortal fear, but now, it was something she knew better than to allow.
It was too late. Sakura exhaled slowly, looking down at where her fingers lingered upon his palm, a gentle flush creeping up her neck. She'd accepted this; disregarding logic or reason, or even the screaming of half her own emotions, she had stepped directly back into the flames, allowing Madara to draw her into his daunting gravity.
No. She lifted her head, a stony, warning look flashing in her eyes as she met Madara's stare once more. "Then let me clarify as well," Sakura said cooly, "you had wanted more 'honesty' from me before. Be more honest with me in turn. Madara—" her gaze became deadly-serious, "No more tests. None like what you had tried last time, or I do mean that I will never speak with you again." Her fingers dug into his just enough to extend her warning as the ice crept in around the edges of her tone. "Though… my silence would be the least of your worries. I don't think I need to tell you that you best tread more carefully with the woman who holds your key to this war hostage." Sakura's stare glittered, and she knew Madara understood that she was threatening to crush his captive eye, should this conversation end poorly.
Madara paused, something racing past behind his pleased expression. "Hn. Clever girl." His smile was ever so slight. "It took you long enough to gather that I was testing you."
Sakura stiffened, seeing every sign in his manner that her voiced hunch was indeed correct. It was affirmed by the satisfied look he wore, and she glanced away, almost shocked that she had been right. She wasn't sure if she was relieved, upset, happy, or angry about it all, a hundred new questions popping up in her mind.
It left her feeling exhausted instead as she let out a long sigh, shaking her head and shutting her eyes. "I did think that you meant it at the time." Sakura seemed to shrink somewhat as she began to slowly relax, melting down from icy heights of cold anger back towards a deeply-buried relief she began to let herself feel.
"I know." The door behind Madara creaked, more heat from the tea shop breathing past them both and warming their rain-soaked figures.
"When I calmed down and thought about it," Sakura went on, watching the rain splash off the street beyond the dry warmth of the eaves, "I began to suspect that you had been testing me again, because you're not so simple. You always like making things harder than they need to be." She snorted. "But I wasn't sure. You could simply want that threatening offer you made me. Why not? You theoretically have the power…" Her free hand closed into a fist. "Maybe you would gladly succumb to the spoils of your victory. Since you like using the truth against me, I couldn't really know if you were just testing me, or actually making such a callous and selfish demand of me."
A flash of willful pride and resolve glowed behind Sakura's fierce expression as she looked back to search Madara's face. "Either way, I wasn't going to care if you meant it or not, then, or afterwards. I know my worth, and I know my loyalties. I wasn't going to back down to you and your seductive words no matter what you did."
To Sakura's surprise, she saw a marked glint of respect in his gaze. It was just barely visible, but certainly present.
She searched Madara's face, confirming it over and over. He was regarding her with the slightest crinkle beside his eyes, as if with affection; silver-white hair billowed around his pale features, his mismatched stare luminescent in the shadows of the rain-misted alleyway.
Another test? More manipulation? Sakura wasn't sure, and she scowled up at him. "So? Are you going to keep messing around, or will you be more direct with me?"
She startled slightly as large fingers tightened around hers, realising their hands had stayed linked this whole time. Madara gestured towards the open doorway, a warm, tea-scented draft sighing past the two of them. "Yes."
Sakura found that she believed Madara, and she swallowed thickly, uncomfortable with how deeply glad she was that his terrible words from before were at least partly the falsehood she had wanted them to be. She was intent to find out just how much of what he'd said was truthful or not.
In her softening relief, she slid her other hand over where he'd caught hers. Madara stiffened slightly from her subtly affectionate gesture.
Talking did not mean she would surrender nor forgive. It did not necessitate anything but making the effort Sakura had wanted from him in the first place, and she found herself willing to give him a chance, grateful to her bones that she had lingered. Even if he was doing this out of a desire to manipulate her towards the end he wanted, it was nothing but good to try and understand him better, to take a shot at working out something that wasn't all darkness and hopelessness for whatever future was to come.
She took a step forward, ready to begin.
With a satisfied blink, Madara released her captive fingers and ghosted his other hand around her side, leading Sakura indoors. She swallowed as the door thundered shut behind them both.
Mebuki set her teapot aside with a sigh. It was about time she returned home. There were far too many things that needed doing for her to linger here any longer, as pleasant as it had been to reflect upon Sakura and the conversation she'd had with her.
Rising to her feet with empty cup and teapot in hand, she walked towards the front counter, tired eyes drawing over to where she heard a distant door fall shut out of sight down a nearby back hallway.
A flash of pink that had to be Sakura: she had come back? Mebuki paused, frowning. Was she all right? Perhaps she'd forgotten something of hers back at the booth they had shared.
But then there was a hum of a deep voice that definitely wasn't Sakura, and Mebuki nearly dropped the dishes she was holding. Disbelieving her own ears, she stood perfectly still, certain that she was imagining things.
Pink again as a head poked out from a corner, and as soon as Sakura caught sight of Mebuki, she gasped, disappearing back around the wall with a hiss towards someone still hidden behind her in the shadows. Nearly throwing the teapot upon the counter, Mebuki went in like a hawk for its kill. "Sakura! Who's that? What's going on?"
When Mebuki arrived in the side-hallway, Sakura was gone. Mebuki put her hands on her hips, scowling. Had she been with…?
No, surely not. That would have been far too coincidental. She must have been imagining that someone had been with Sakura, though Mebuki frowned as she looked around carefully, green eyes narrowed as her heavy suspicions drove her to check around.
His deep chuckle shook the objects hanging on the three cramped walls around them both, causing Sakura to try to shove at him with a hiss of be quiet; but they were in such close quarters that she couldn't budge Madara where he already surrounded her.
Sandalsteps, outside the tightly-shut closet door. Sakura held still, gripping Madara tightly where she'd pushed him into this tiny little maintenance room with her. She ignored how they were pressed together, all of her attention honed in on the sounds of Mebuki investigating the back hallway.
"You could just disappear," Madara suggested, his breath warming her ear.
Sakura shook her head, her hands sliding up his chest as she pushed him a little more thoroughly against hung-up mops and shelves of cleaning supplies. She shivered, warmed by the heat radiating from him like he was a living fire, her rain-soaked clothes beginning to dry. "I'm not giving up on the conversation we agreed to have," she shot back under her breath. "I have a lot of answers I want from you. I'll put up with this situation to make sure I get them."
"What you want appears rather ambiguous." Madara leaned down, his smirk nearly buried in pink hair, one arm bracing above her head. "I offered you a discussion, not quite… whatever this is you've initiated."
"I'm keeping us both out of her radar," Sakura shot back under her breath. She craned her neck to look up into Madara's face, glaring at his smug smile. "Just hang on another minute. Humour me, okay? This shouldn't have to go on much longer."
Sandalsteps outside the door again, and she instinctively shrank away from the door against Madara, turning her head to stare with wide eyes at the handle. While she hoped against hope her mother wouldn't think to check this innocuous closet, she winced from a broom digging into her back; she shifted away from it, which caused her to entangle a little more thoroughly in lean limbs and rain-damp robes.
Doing her best to continue pretending this wasn't both awkward and heatedly tense a situation, Sakura held her breath, listening. Her skin stung as wild white hair drifted along her face, Madara leaning over her; a gloved hand pushed the spilling mouth of an open box of wipes out of the way. "Who are you so afraid of out there?"
"I'm not letting you meet my mother," Sakura hissed back, causing Madara's amused snort to shake her, and she tried to shove at him again, her fists full of his monochromatic robes. Rattled tools on the close walls began to fall free — two pairs of gloved hands shot out to cease their tumbling. Sakura kicked a leg to the side to prevent a mop handle from toppling, forcing her to lean up against Madara's chest, her face tilted into his neck at an awkward angle.
Her emotions had been sling-shot from every height and temperature, from boiling to freezing to some bizarre frazzled mix of everything. Not even hours ago, Sakura had been determined to avoid Madara forever, and now here she was, entangled with him like handsy kids at a house party. Hiding herself and her great war enemy from her snooping mother in a teashop closet gave her such whiplash that there was an unexpected warm bubbling tightening her chest.
Holding her breath to keep it reigned in, Sakura huffed against Madara's skin where her nose pressed into his pale throat. Her shoulders hunched, her chest seized — but she couldn't hold it back, and she buried her lips in the dark fabric of the lapel stretching across his shoulder, covering her mouth while her hands were occupied in keeping tools from falling and making noise. Unable to keep it back any longer, Sakura shook with her muted laughter, her negative feelings and stress falling away with her good-humoured chortles.
Madara's dually amused hum warmed her further, Sakura's giggle muted into his ashen-scented Six Paths robes. She shook her head at it all, carefully letting go of the now-steadied tools on the wall and catching his sides as her laughter faded and her heart resumed its vigorous pounding through her ears.
Dark hands ghosted around her curves, not quite taking hold, but vaguely suggestive, as if in reminder of their extreme proximity. Sakura swallowed thickly, well-aware that the tension they shared hadn't diminished with their time apart. It only ever seemed to burn deeper, like white-hot embers sinking through endless tinder.
She suspected that their intense mutual tension and its almost unbearable heat was why Madara tolerated this little escapade for now, and she resisted the sudden temptation to take it further, scolding herself silently with an unsteady exhale. No… she must hold strong; she must get her answers from him. She was no where near forgiving Madara just yet, if she ever would: he might have made an effort in inviting her to speak with him, but he owed her more than that effort alone.
Sakura continued to steel herself, even as she shivered from the pleasant sensations of fingers steadying her slight sway across her side. She wouldn't listen to her backwards urge to fully melt, because Madara didn't deserve her attraction yet. He wasn't worthy of how rebelliously interested she was in progressing this tight and heated situation. It would be so easy to throw caution to the wind in spite of herself and everyone else; easy to give in — too much so, and Sakura shut her eyes tightly, reminding herself that she was in control of herself no matter her heat-frazzled instincts. She was not so easy to persuade back into the treacherous waters the two of them had begun diving into before.
Hold steady. She took in a deep breath of Madara's smoky scents, trying to refocus; she was distracted by the warmth of his lean frame where he'd subtly pulled her against him, his smirk lost in mussed pink hair. Tch. Sakura huffed against Madara's neck, her chest rising and falling against his. Damn him and herself as well. How had all this tension and her inappropriate emotions flooded back so quickly? She was halfway certain he'd purposely incited it all, smug and suspiciously quiet as he was, letting her pin him in here like he'd somehow planned it all.
Silence in the back hallway, and Sakura brought her hands back to Madara's chest, briefly shutting her eyes. "Okay, I'm going to peek. Don't you dare move," she breathed, pulling open the door and peering out through the crack.
After a pause, she shoved open the closet all the way, stumbling out of it and straightening herself with a huff. Patting her ruffled clothes and shoving a hand through her hair, she turned as Madara strode out as if nothing had happened, glancing at Sakura with a single risen brow. She offered him a lighthearted glare before exhaling unsteadily. "Coast is clear," she clarified.
"I gathered," Madara replied, smirking.
"Okay, let's go!" Energy had found Sakura's step as she shifted forward, seeking out the nearest empty screened booth and sliding into her seat. Crossing her legs, she sat up perfectly straight, watching as Madara strode forward, the tea shop's lights falling upon him and illuminating him in white-gold light.
Sakura was familiar enough with his striking image that she had forgotten how the public would be affected by the sight he made.
Madara pretended not to notice the cacophony of gasps that rose throughout the rest of the tea shop, though he brought a level, bored glare across their many frightened faces. Patrons began to flee; feet shuffled, teapots spilled, porcelain broke upon floors as they left in such a rush that sandals, bags, and unfinished tea were behind. They poured out through the front and back doors, the tea shop staff dropping their own duties in favour of fleeing as vague recognition of who Madara was blinded them with fear. His name followed their gasps and whispers like a verbal wind, chasing after each in their every escape until the rest of the place as a whole was left abandoned and empty.
With the lively and noisy atmosphere struck dead, there was a rainy tea-scented quiet left in its stead, following Madara's bootsteps in a hush as he approached the table Sakura had chosen.
Sakura shifted with an uneasy laugh as Madara slid into the seat across from her, white hair swishing and robes rustling around his tall frame. "The rumours precede you," she hummed. "I guess it would have been a little better for the public's health if we'd met somewhere more private."
He snorted. "A little bit of fear is good for them. A reminder that we are not in peacetime."
"Fear isn't good for anyone." Sakura glanced over at the tea bar, debating; Madara was watching her as she thought. "You seem to enjoy it well enough," he commented, and Sakura shot him a look before folding her arms with a short exhale through her nose. "What do you drink?" she asked, "because it seems we'll have to serve ourselves."
He blinked at her for a moment before stretching his arms behind his head, mismatched eyes narrowing upon her.
"You know what, I'm just going to guess," she decided, turning away and walking swiftly over to the bar. She ignored Madara's curious, mildly annoyed stare as she poked through the unfamiliar machines and familiarised herself with what was there.
Sakura soon returned, two steaming cups in hand, having left a small apologetic stack of ryo by the abandoned register. She sat demurely across from Madara, sliding one of the cups his way.
He inspected it with a frown. After a single, approving blink, Madara settled back in his seat, ignoring Sakura's watchful eyes as he took a drink.
She smirked to herself. "I knew it. You like what old men drink. No frills, no sugar, just hot black coffee. Consider yourself lucky this shop has a wide variety of things besides tea." She took a sip of her sweetened matcha drink, shutting her eyes briefly with a hum as she enjoyed its flavours.
Madara's voice lowered into a growl. "Do not call me that."
Sakura met his glaring eyes, sobering, as what she wanted to say came to mind. Setting down her tea, she searched his face, earnest to begin.
"If I may start this discussion," she said, seeing the confirmation in Madara's calm expression and continuing with her question, "how much of what you said in the genjutsu did you actually mean?" She cleared her throat, feeling a little lighter with that question relieved from her tongue. "Am I to understand that you don't actually see me at all like some kind of… lowly future servant?"
Madara set aside his drink, and his stare upon Sakura was dark and intent. "Certainly not; and definitively not now."
Sakura paused, swallowing hard. "But you would have, had I caved in to you then?"
"Yes."
She dipped her gaze back into her drink, her shoulders relaxing slightly. She shut her eyes, letting his honest answers sink into her a moment.
Steadying her heartbeat, Sakura let out a huff, meeting Madara's eye with a scowl. "That's a dirty test. You had really upset me, you know."
He inclined his head, his slight smile hidden by his cup as he took a sip. "Yes. I find that increasingly curious."
"Why test me at all?" Sakura persisted. "What were you testing? Why try to break whatever — unlikely non-hatred we'd begun to have?"
"Non-hatred." Madara tossed her an amused glance. "Do you mean… bond?"
She flushed pink before looking away. "I suppose."
"Hn." He folded his arms. "Well; among other things… I wanted to know how easily you would give up."
"How easily I would give up on my resolve?" Sakura asked, confused. Or you? came the thought, and she folded her arms tightly over her chest in an unconscious mirror of Madara, swallowing as she held his heavy stare. The window beside where they sat shook slightly under a particularly violent gale of rain, pattering out through the tense quiet that unravelled around them both.
Madara set his cup aside, and his expression was unreadable once more, his features reset into a default imperious frown. "Multiple things."
Sakura sighed, swirling what was left in her cup. "You're being cryptic again. Next thing I know, you'll be back to Infinite Tsukuyomi threats." She leaned her head on her hand, already weary at the thought.
"What do you expect of me? What did you expect then as well?" Madara exhaled in a short huff, the wild hair flickering around his pale face. "A flowery proposition for some impossible peaceful end to the war? Some sugared promise that everything would be all right?"
Sakura ignored his sarcastic tone, tucking her hair behind her ears as she held his gaze unwaveringly. "No; just… decency."
"Decency?"
"Like what you're doing right now. Talking with me. I don't know." Sakura shoved her hand through her hair, sending it into a new mess of pink around her face. "I'll admit, I'm pretty relieved. I was ready to rip your head off for some of the stuff you had said to me then."
"And so you settled for ripping off my hands, instead."
Sakura's laugh was genuine. Tossing back another sugared taste of her matcha, she wiped its traces away from her wry half-smile.
Hm. Holding Madara's calm stare, Sakura found with relief and mixed annoyance that she wasn't as angry with him anymore. The forest fires in her head had been tamped down enough that only a few smouldering embers remained, whetted to endure by the questions she still had, the frustrations and conflicts she harboured. It was still entirely possible for her anger to be set ablaze again: should Madara allow cruelty or mockery to return to his silver-tongued repertoire in this conversation, Sakura's rage would be easily rekindled. Her patience for his games was at its end.
She suspected that he knew this well, and she felt the tang of gratefulness chase the matcha down her throat. She was glad that he was being reasonable, straightforward and peaceable, at least for now. Perhaps it was all to cool her down so he might manipulate her in the future, but she was willing to take that risk in this moment if Madara had decided she was worthwhile enough to grant her the answers she deserved.
It was a promising start towards at least a minor, tentative reconciliation. Perhaps, she might walk away from this feeling like there had been progress rather than painful regression, and Sakura took another conspicuous sip of her tea, her next question climbing up the back of her throat from where it had been clawing against the walls of her stomach.
She couldn't quite meet Madara's eyes for this one, and she let her gaze fall upon the black symbols following his robe lapels, swallowing hard. "I do find that I need to know," she began, choosing her words carefully, "was all of that desire stuff just a test too? Which of what you told me was truth, and which were just lies to make me squirm?"
Silence, and Sakura resisted the urge to shut her eyes, staring down at her drink like it held her answers as he leaned forward. Locks of wild white hair drew across the small table as Madara's shadow almost reached her through the rain-dappled, honey-shaded light.
"What do you think?"
Sakura took in a slow breath to steady herself. That dangerous velvet had made its return to Madara's voice; her cheeks and already rapid heartbeat had begun to heat in response. She knew that his tone alone was her answer. Confirmed now, she tried not to think about how such a truth admitted even just by implication would haunt her; and so much more than it already had been, every night to come.
"I think," Sakura said, taking a moment to compose herself before finishing, "that you're overcomplicated."
Madara snorted as she went on. "You're like some big moody puzzle."
He waited until Sakura met his stare before he answered her with a lethal glint in his eye. "One does a puzzle for fun; but we are not playing games, anymore."
Though she knew her face flagged a blatant red at his words, Sakura held Madara's stare unwaveringly. She'd meant to do so in a challenging manner, but found that the intensity in the air between them grew exponentially the longer she held his mismatched eyes. He wasn't going to look away; he was never the one to back down, a slight curl about the corner of his lips his subtle indication that he was enjoying her attempt to be bold.
Sakura bit the side of her mouth as she sat up a little taller. He was the living embodiment of mortal danger, and provoking him denied her survival instincts, setting her afire with that adrenaline-injected thrill she had long become addicted to. She knew she shouldn't, and chose not to worry about it in this moment, already aware she'd scold herself for this later once she was alone.
Madara folded his arms. With his jagged white mane and slightly glowing eyes, he reminded Sakura of some kind of wild, feral creature. Something feline, though far from diminutive, and every ounce dangerous and graceful at once. A lion, perhaps, at least for the mane, and Sakura smirked at the thought before finally glancing away with a soft huff. "Stop that," she said quietly, rubbing at her stinging cheeks, "you agreed not to test me, at least for this discussion."
"Hn." Madara's fingers danced along his arms, his answering grin audible. "I am not; teasing you is enjoyable."
Sakura let out a good-natured huff, looking out at the rain moodily. Her smile made its quiet return. The bastard. She did love puzzles.
Madara took a slow drink from his cup, eyeing Sakura thoughtfully. "Were you hoping to be able to have an infinite dream, or to die, if I were to allow you to choose?"
Startling slightly, Sakura's head swivelled back towards him. "I…" She blinked oddly. "I guess I always assumed that if the war ever actually ended in your favour, you would make me be stuck with you in punishment, like you threatened down in the mine." She looked down at her drink with a twitch about her brows, remembering it with a sip. "I haven't thought about which of those fates I'd really want, since I'm not going to let you win the war. I don't think I want to choose at all."
"You mean to say you would prefer I decide your fate, in lieu of making your own choice."
"No! That's not what I meant!" Sakura ran her hands over her face with a sigh, unwilling to wonder if Madara's question had been yet another cryptic test. "Just let me be happy that you were messing with me before, and please don't do it again. And let's, you know what, let's talk about the Infinite Tsukuyomi thing in general. When are you going to give it up?"
When Sakura peeked through her fingers, she saw that Madara's pupils had dilated slightly with her abrupt question. Sakura clarified quickly. "To give up the chase. All of it. When will you give true peace a chance? Is there anything I could do to convince you?"
Madara exhaled wearily, picking up his steaming black coffee and taking a slow sip. He held Sakura's eyes; she reddened slightly, having to look away. His rumble rolled across the tabletop, pulling her lips into a frown. "There is no point in arguing about this."
"There is absolutely a point!" Sakura's fingers cracked the porcelain cup slightly as she threw her glare back at him. "I want to understand why you're so persistent with it. We've spent so much time and energy in this chase. I'm not going to give up, you're not going to give up, so what? We play cat-and-mouse until one of us drops dead from exhaustion?"
"Do you truly think," Madara answered her, leaning his head on one hand and tapping his fingers on the table, "that we will resolve the war by talking about it? I have already told you; it is not possible."
Sakura sat up taller in her chair. Madara's annoyed look sobered somewhat as a resolute expression settled over her features. "Yes. I do."
"I didn't think you were so ignorant," he replied easily, causing her face to pinch. Madara exhaled, watching the play of frustration across her face as he went on. "If a conversation was all it took to change my mind, such as what your teammate Naruto did to confuse Obito, or any of his previous adversaries… then we would not be here now as we are." Madara leaned forward, his shadow crossing her face. "My convictions are not so shallow."
"It's not about that! I know you're not shallow… but you're so damned stubborn! Refusing to accept change or that things can change at all is something stupid old people do." Sakura slammed her fist on the table, their drinks sloshing in their cups. "It's about what's right or wrong for everything. The Infinite Tsukuyomi is wrong for the world. Everything the cult's saying to sell people on it is nonsensical garbage, trying to decry all of Naruto and everyone's hard work in moving towards true widespread peace. It's a cheap fix and a complete waste of time to even—"
Madara's expression had grown stormy; gloved fingers cracked the edge of the table, and Sakura paused, reading the dangerous irritation that lined his pale features. She took her drink and sipped it, her gaze trailing restlessly over the abandoned tea shop while her sharp words echoed in her head at a painful decibel. "I'm sorry." Sakura sighed, shutting her eyes. "I shouldn't have called you names. I demanded a civil discussion, but I'm being rude, myself."
She kept her eyes shut for a moment as she internally shouted at herself. This was the first time she'd managed to sit down and discuss important matters with Madara, and now she'd probably nailed it in as the last time, because she couldn't watch her own tongue. She might still have frustration and anger boiling beneath the thin beginnings of her forgiveness, but if she wanted him to take her seriously, she had to match his easy calm and speak like the civil adult she was.
Releasing a taut exhale, Sakura set her drink down, brows twitching. She set it down a little harder than she meant to, and opened her eyes in time to see that she'd managed to knock over his cup of boiling hot coffee. Splash, and steam rose as dark brown liquid drenched his once-white sleeve and the robes in his lap.
With a curse, Sakura abruptly stood, leaning over the table with her hands flashing out – she righted the cup, saving a small amount left in it and shoving it aside beside her own. She shoved a wet fold of fabric out of the way, pressing glowing hands over the steaming deep stain over his thigh, healing the severe burns she knew she'd caused.
Sakura startled as Madara's deep, rumbling laugh surrounded her. A gloved hand slid over her glowing fingers. "Stop; you do not need to heal me."
Pausing, Sakura blinked up into Madara's face; he had a crooked smile, and she realised herself. She was directly in his space, close enough to smell the coffee and forest-fire scents of him mixing in his warm exhale, her hands gripping his thigh tightly enough to feel toned muscles and hot skin beneath the coffee-drenched fabric of his black pants.
Steam rose from beneath her fingers, though the healing glow had sputtered out. Oops, Sakura thought as her eyes drew across Madara's half-smile. His skin was healing itself, the burn probably a very brief flash of pain he'd barely registered as painful at all. For a moment, Sakura pondered the research possibilities of someone with such incredible regeneration, her mind circling habitually through her studies, and her stare dragged back to his eyes, catching on his Rinnegan.
Her gaze narrowed as she thought, suspended where she bent over him, thoughts halting on that eye.
Thirty-five times. Thirty-five frustrating, unyielding experiments to mend Madara's other Rinnegan. Sakura was almost completely unaware of Madara's changing expression as she scrutinised him. Why was it that his Rinnegan continued to reject her painstakingly fine chakra-threads?
Madara blinked, breaking Sakura from her thoughts, and she abruptly withdrew from him, her hands sliding out from beneath his and away from his leg; she sat back in her seat, continuing to watch him thoughtfully.
He cleared his throat; Sakura glanced away, embarrassed. "Didn't mean to spill on you."
"I know."
"Was the coffee good, at least?" she asked, feeling a need to push forward through small-talk, and Madara's brow lifted as he eyed her. "It is paltry, and hardly worth drinking." He ignored her brief scowl as she was mildly offended on behalf of the tea shop.
He glanced with disdain at Sakura's own cup. "You drink the flowery things, then."
"Yeah, I guess." Sakura made a face. "How do you drink the straight black stuff? It's so strong, so bitter."
"It is an acquired taste, perhaps only for those patient enough to keep trying it." Madara leaned his head on his hand; his stare was subtly challenging, perhaps another test, and Sakura held his dangerous gaze as she reached over and took his cup back, her cheeks heated within her determined expression.
He watched as she took a cautious sip. Though she attempted to wrest the look on her face back to neutral, he'd spotted her revulsion before she'd reverted her features to a neutral manner.
Hn. Madara smirked; how predictable that she'd give up on it so quickly.
Steeling herself, Sakura matched Madara's level look, enjoying the way he stiffened slightly as she tilted her head back and drank the rest of his coffee anyway. She set it aside decisively, wiping a pearl of golden-brown coffee from her lips with a victorious glint in her eye.
Her little victory was soon overshadowed as the scorching heat of his stare made her sit up straight as a tree, her face blooming. Clearing her throat several times, she searched for a quick subject change, sensing she had pushed their mutual tension past an unspoken breaking point. "The, uh, the Rinnegan," Sakura blurted, and Madara paused where he had begun to loom over the table.
"Yes; I was intending to ask," he said, relaxing back into his seat. Sakura seemed to slump a little as a negligible ounce of tension eased from her shoulders, allowing her to remember to breathe. She hated that she'd brought up their key to the war at all; a stupid subject to remind him of, perhaps the worst of them all, and she watched Madara with hidden nervousness as he went on. "It is doing better; however, whom else are you allowing to handle it?"
Sakura looked up at the ceiling, asserting her expression into a neutral one. She hid her panic at his eerily sharp guess that she had help in her studies. "Can't say. Maybe it's in the trash somewhere. Who knows? Maybe a cat ate it."
"Hn. You are a bad liar." Sakura moved to finish her drink and tensed as dark fingers flicked hers aside. She stared as he took her cup, sipping the now lukewarm matcha and briefly shutting his eyes. "Now; tell me. You have repeatedly claimed that you want to understand my cause. Is this true, or do you ask out of continued aims to waste more of my time… to extend this perpetual chase of ours?"
Sakura's expression settled into seriousness as she set her many frazzled emotions aside. Hunching forward, her green eyes glittered as she searched his face. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't truly want to know; and it's both your cause, and you, that I want to understand much more thoroughly." Taking a deep breath, she held his intense gaze, letting him see the honesty in her expression. "I want to know why you chase this dream. I want to know… whatever you'll tell me."
She watched a flicker of something complex pass behind Madara's mismatched eyes; fascinated and hopeful at once, she held his stare, waiting for his answer.
He leaned into her, overshadowing her entirely. Sakura stayed where she leaned over the small table between them, letting Madara loom into her space.
Madara's narrowed stare was full of warning as he examined her earnest expression with revived judgement and mistrust. Gloved fingers drummed against the edge of the table. "You will likely regret achieving a deeper comprehension of the truth; it may shake your own convictions." His voice became a murmur; colour crept across Sakura's cheeks in response. "It is dangerous to understand your enemy."
"I only want to learn," Sakura answered easily, her brows furrowed in the earnest look she wore. She sat up, adjusting her seat, searching Madara's frowning face. "You offered this conversation to me," she said softly, "we're already here. Even if we can't resolve anything today… let me understand you and what motivates you better. I want to try." She gestured towards Madara in general before swallowing nervously beneath the weight of his intense, suspicious stare.
She held perfectly still, as if moving might cause him to change his mind and leave. With tempered doubt, Madara observed Sakura's patient poise, her shining, hope-lit eyes. Her honest excitement was barely restrained behind her wide green irises, erasing her previous exhaustion and stress. It had become clear that her anger had been muted beneath her genuine desire to understand, and to perhaps convince; she meant her words. Forgiveness had not come to heel, nor any real reconciliation, but Madara could sense how deeply her words ran, spoken as frankly and as sweetly as if Sakura really believed she could end the war through talking with him.
She didn't realise she was holding her breath until Madara exhaled softly. "Go on," he rumbled, "Fetch that coffee pot behind the counter and bring it to me."
Sakura was perplexed until he rolled his eyes, leaning on his hand, his silver-white hair falling around his scowl. "We will be sitting here a while, and I need a refill."
She was on her feet so fast that she was a blur of pink. Sakura raced behind the counter, barely registering Madara's deep chuckle as she did what he asked.
Conflict strengthens bonds. Madara watched the way Sakura glowed as she bustled behind the counter, her green eyes lit again with that fierce, determined hope. He hid his own smile behind her drink that was almost too sweet for his tastes, anticipating the fresh refill she'd soon bring.
He shut his eyes as the thought rose through his mind like the transient wafting of steam. The bonds that persist through each trial are the ones worth having… and how useful this bond will be.
Sakura set the empty pot on the counter next to the ryo she'd left, adding a few more for good measure. There were a thousand new thoughts spinning webs for her mind to get tangled in, and only the time upon the nearby mounted clock was able to jerk her back into the present moment.
Gods. Had they spoken for that long? Sakura stood a little taller, pressing a hand over her chest. She'd missed an in-house patient appointment; half of her late-day shift at the hospital too, and she was supposed to have gotten some light grocery shopping in beforehand. Hours of productivity she'd planned for today lost, and Sakura found that she didn't care at all, her eyes briefly shutting over her small smile.
Former questions were now the empty husks of cocoons caught in those new webs of many answers. Experiences… stories; explanations, backgrounds, woven in a wide pattern of answers he had freely given her. She had gotten caught up, losing track of the time, but she'd also semi-consciously allowed herself to do so, having valued this hard-bought discussion with Madara much more highly than the consequences of straying from her day-to-day routine. Should someone ask after her tardiness, she could always make the excuse that he'd killed this clone, anyway.
Sakura exhaled slowly, feeling the sheer weight of her thoughts with all the new information that had been threaded through them. It would take her a while to process it all, far longer than the breadth of these few hours of conversation, and she found that she far preferred looking forward to that rather than the stress-fraught nightmares she'd have endured instead should she have declined to speak with him.
Reaching over with a pensive sigh, Sakura turned off the faucet to a nearby steel basin sink. In the dripping's ceasing, the tea shop's silence stretched over her in a fog, making Sakura aware of her own heartbeat that steadily pulsed beneath her skin. She felt it rise in tempo, and she hummed to herself; the booth they'd shared across from where she stood was empty, but she knew she wasn't alone just yet.
She stood a little taller as she felt warmth at her back.
"So."
Sakura turned gradually, meeting Madara's luminescent stare. He'd boxed her in with the way he stood with her behind the narrow counters of the tea shop bar; she was backed against the convergence of steeltop surfaces and appliances, effectively cornered.
He folded his arms. "Are you enlightened? Or are you disappointed? As I had warned you, neither of us has been swayed; the war was not ended in a conversation."
Gloved fingers tapped along the counter's metal edges on either side of where Sakura was trapped. She lifted her head with a subtle smile, unbothered by her cornered position. "No," she agreed with a soft hum, "but it's a start."
She could feel the time ticking silently at her back where she'd turned away from the clock. Beneath the warm weight of all the answers Madara had given her, Sakura felt the pressing urgency of her life beyond this quiet tea shop, demanding her attention. There might be so much to think about, but there was also so much to do, and she already tasted the regret of having to end this conversation, her smile falling as she searched Madara's stony features.
She knew better than to think that she knew him now, but she had at least begun to. Facets of his life; his cause, his past, and of him in general had begun to bloom in her head, branching into an increasing number of questions she wanted to ask. She had a much clearer picture of who he was; the high-contrast, shadowy sketch of him in her mind had filled out with rich detail and colour. She found herself more fascinated than she already had been, eager to understand someone so interesting. Madara was more multifaceted than she'd assumed upon first meeting him; far from the two-dimensional stamp of evil she'd so easily assumed upon her first terrified impression.
Overcomplicated, she'd called him, and Sakura smirked as she anticipated recalling every part of their discussion later. She hoped against hope that they'd get to talk like this again. It was all she could do not to voice her many new questions, knowing it was time they part ways once more. Perhaps… the better she understood him, the less likely it was they would have to remain as enemies. Perhaps, with time and more thorough peaceable talks like this, future discussions could yield negligible changes to the outcomes of the war. He had begun to genuinely respect her, after all.
"So pensive," Madara had commented while Sakura was adrift in her own head, and she returned to the present moment again, blinking up into his face with a flush creeping across her cheeks. He was smiling slightly, ever-amused at her expressive and honest features.
An unexpected pang through Sakura's heart had her reaching up towards his face. Instinctively defensive of his eyes, Madara withdrew slightly, his pupils dilating in a startled look as Sakura brought her palm gently along the side of his cheek, lingering.
"Thank you," she murmured.
He opened his mouth to comment, and she withdrew before he could, glancing away with an embarrassed blush. Pausing, Madara pocketed what he was going to say, regarding Sakura with questions in his gaze.
"I had better go," she finally said, blinking shyly at where her feet crossed over his and garnering enough courage to meet Madara's stare again. She stiffened, almost alarmed at the lack of cruelty or mockery in his expression, his lips upturned in a subtle, knowing smile instead.
"And," she said, glancing away again with heat in her ears, "I'll be seeing you."
"In fleeting moments, like you have attempted as of late?" He more blatantly boxed her in by sliding his arms along the counters on either side of her, disallowing her from leaving just yet as his sharp questions gave her pause. "Or will you face me properly next we meet?"
Sakura pushed lightly at Madara's chest. "No, I won't try to avoid you quite so much. Nor will I try to push you into any more closets." She huffed, her ears hot. "But ease up on my clones. I don't have unfair power advantages like you do."
Madara's eyes glittered as he towered over Sakura. "This is still war. I'm not taking requests for mercy, and so expect me to continue to hunt you." He leaned over her, preventing her from shifting out of his space. "Although you could make this easier for us and simply greet me as your original self. Then you would have no need to make so many irritating clones."
Sakura snorted, her fingers sliding down Madara's arm as she moved to pass him. "You'd never let me go if I was dumb enough to reveal my true self to you."
"Hn."
"How about you forget the Infinite Tsukuyomi and make a peace pact with me, instead?" Sakura asked, bringing teasing green eyes back to Madara's face, her tone utterly saccharine in her half-serious sarcasm. "Then, you wouldn't need to hunt down my 'irritating' clones anymore, and you could greet my original all you want."
"Hmm…" Sakura held her breath as Madara tilted her head with warm fingers; she had heard the silk in her tone too late. She decided against taking it back, feeling a little drunk on the familiar thrill of his dangerous presence and doubly deciding to take the risk of not pulling free of his touch.
There was a heated glint in Madara's eye as he towered over her against the counter, his white mane falling around both of their faces in a jagged frame. "I advise caution with careless banter, lest you invite consequences you are not prepared for."
Sakura released a shaky breath, absorbing Madara's lethal, daring look with unsubtle satisfaction. "What?" she managed slyly, recalling his earlier words and quoting him with a winning smile. "Teasing you is enjoyable."
She disappeared in a flash as Madara shifted to grip her, her eyes dancing above her grin.
Sakura pulled herself out of the tank and slid to the floor in a puddle, gasping and coughing. Snagging the towel Karin handed her, she wiped the tank fluid from her face, blinking the solution from her eyes and shoving the towel over her nude body in a makeshift covering. Quick, nervous flickers of her gaze around the vast tank room told her both that this was not the same place she had been in before, and that it was just herself and Karin, the others no where to be seen. A courtesy to her modesty, she understood, and tightened the towel around herself like a dress with her unoccupied hand.
"How long," Sakura managed through rapid breaths, glancing up at Karin while drying more of herself off, "how long did you guys keep me in that tank? It feels like… hours… a day?"
Karin stood back with her hands on her hips. She made no move to help as Sakura got to her feet, nearly slipping before catching herself on the empty human experiment tank beside her. "You're fine," she said dismissively, "No one dies from being in stasis. See? You're already kind of recovered, mess as you are."
Sakura scowled at her, glancing down at the gashed Rinnegan that had been hiding in her palm with some relief before glaring back at Karin. "How long, I asked."
"A few weeks."
"What!" Sakura nearly fell over herself, shoving again at the towel to keep herself decent and gesturing angrily. "Why?! I have research I need to be doing! The Limbo clone surely left a long time ago! Did you leave me in there that long out of spite?! What did I ever do to you, Karin?" Her last question had a genuine note of hurt in it, and Karin's eyes widened briefly before she looked away, her previous smug grin faltering. "It wasn't my call."
"Whose, then? And why?"
"Lord Orochimaru's, of course." Karin cracked her knuckles, her gaze skittering across the many nearby floor-to-ceiling tubes with vague uneasiness. "You don't have to be so defensive. It wasn't out of spite. We had to keep you in there until the clones went away, and we also couldn't just transfer your tube out of there without being conspicuous with the timing."
Sakura blinked at Karin with a knot between her brows. "Clones… plural?"
"The sensors kept going off like mad." Karin sighed. "It seems Madara didn't buy that little ruse of ours, at least, not all the way. He left multiple clones searching those tunnels. It took weeks of waiting before we could do a routine tank-swap to move human experiments without being suspicious about it." Karin scowled, folding her arms. "Count yourself as stupidly lucky that he didn't break you out of there before then. We had to pull some expensive chemical magic changing your appearance and creating further distractions so he didn't come near your tank again."
Sakura rubbed a hand through her wet hair, her gaze straying where tank fluid had pooled at her feet. "I do remember… I could feel his stare. He must have looked right at me. It was so hard not to move…" She reddened. "I can't believe we had to use this plan. And to have to be naked, and in front of him—"
"I doubt he stared out of lust," Karin commented, but there was a hint of amusement in her eyes as she observed Sakura's bashfulness. "Stop your complaining. The plan gets to continue because we succeeded. If Madara seeing you naked was the only real negative side of it, then it's still a win." She leaned in, her grin returning. "Besides… from all I've heard, I'm surprised you mind him leering at you at all."
Sakura was red to her ears. She cleared her throat, shifting from foot to bare foot on the cold tiled floor as Karin went on. "We transferred yours and a hundred other tanks down to a much deeper lab all at once in a batch move. So far, the sensors are all good; he's looking in the pretty vast east sector where we were, somewhere beneath Suna."
"Where are we now?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Karin huffed. "Much further away. Deeper. I'm sure his annoyingly accurate guesses on where to look will necessitate that we move locations again in the near-future."
"Great," Sakura groaned. She sighed, rubbing at her hot ears. "Can we go to our quarters? Did you guys manage to move my stuff? I need real clothes. And… I've been getting a lot of clone memories. I need time to think."
"I'm sure you have. And yeah, that was the plan," Karin agreed. Sakura eyed her, registering the quick return of Karin's suspiciously good mood as the two of them began to walk down the aisles of tanks. She exhaled wearily as Karin's interested stare lingered upon her, worried already on what could possibly be making her so borderline gleeful.
"While you've been in stasis, your clones have been busy," Karin smirked.
Sakura shut her eyes, her stomach twisting around into a knot as the new memories swirled up in a colourful spin of reminders: there was quite a lot that Karin could be referencing. Three and a half weeks had brought a dizzying amount of violently different experiences to process, and each was more intense than the last. Did she somehow know about her tentative tea-shop reconciliation with Madara? Or did she know something about all the rest that had happened in the weeks afterward?
"I'm not talking about it," Sakura shot back. She tightened her towel around herself as she and Karin walked into a cold tunnel hall, heading towards the open doorway of a lit-up room. "How's the cat? I hope you've named her?" Sakura asked, eager to change the subject.
"Oh… she's fine," Karin said cagily. Sakura frowned as the two of them entered their new shared quarters.
The room was far wider, and much nicer than the last had been, the beds larger and with carved frames. The lights were a more warm hue, and Sakura blinked with surprise at the divider separating the large quarters, her gaze shifting over to where Suigetsu reclined on his own bed to one far side. A large aquarium was the wall behind his bed, and a little smile curled Sakura's lips at the sight of the piranha swimming around in a lush, beautifully-staged environment. Jugo was face-deep in a book in his own bunk, his bird twittering somewhere nearby.
But there was something off, just like Karin seemed to know something she shouldn't: Suigetsu was smirking at Sakura with a knowing expression, while contrarily, Jugo was far too careful not to look at her, keeping his attention folded between the pages of his book. Even his canary avoided looking at her, closing its eyes where it perched on the headboard of his futon.
Karin shepherded the increasingly nervous Sakura past the divider into their own half of the room, pointing towards a bed against the wall. The familiar Rinnegan tank awaited on the end table; Sakura's own clothes were present as well, folded neatly on the comforter, and Sakura rushed towards those eagerly. Clutching them to her chest, she brought a grateful look over to Karin, who was sitting on the edge of her own bed. "Thanks," she said.
Karin scowled. "For what?"
"All of you guys thwarting Madara so our plan can go on, and you know, so the war can go on, I guess. And you getting me out of the tank," Sakura explained. She hummed to herself; why bother trying to be nice to Karin?
But Karin blinked thoughtfully at Sakura before nodding slightly. "Sure," she replied, before stretching back on her sheets, and Sakura watched as a furry flash of white was upon Karin in moments, curling up into the crook of her shoulder. Two sets of catlike smiles, and Karin shut her eyes, a hand stroking down her adopted feline's slim snowy coat.
Sakura smiled to herself, glad that her previous efforts were proving worth it.
"So," Karin said casually as Sakura braced herself. "Madara's a legendary weapons wielder, most notably with staffs in this particular war," Karin grinned. "Tell me… with all that your clones have been getting into — how big is the staff in his pants?"
Suitgetsu's chortle sounded from behind the divider, and he poked his head around, his grin wide and toothy. He leaned beside Karin, their matching expressions predatory as they soaked up Sakura's reaction. Jugo's feet bounced as he shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat where he stayed far away behind the divider, just within earshot.
Inevitably and fully, Sakura turned a bright, rosy red. The scarlet shade seeped from the pink of her hair down to her curling toes and she clapped her hands over her blush-flagged face, the word staff bouncing in her head alongside a lengthy host of inappropriate images both imagined and remembered.
"Hah! I knew it! Suigetsu—" Karin gestured at Sakura with wildly gesturing hands, beaming. "I told you. She does know."
"Damn. That means I owe you one." He huffed, shouldering her playfully. "I'll win the next bet."
Karin stretched her arms back behind her head with a victorious little smile as she returned her attention to Sakura. "Oh, don't look at us like that. Don't even try to deny it. We've had so much fun seeing what your clones have been doing up on the surface lately."
Sakura's mouth opened and shut before she scowled. "You don't know anything. You're just messing with me to get me mad."
"Oh, definitely not." Karin leaned forward, running her fingers gently along the back of her purring cat's head and along her ears. "What, do you think Lord Orochimaru and the rest of us don't monitor your activities up there? Hello? We've had to invest a lot in this plan, we're not just going to blindly sit by without at least keeping tabs on you."
Sakura paled to a sheet-white colour. Swallowing hard, she looked sharply away, pushing a hand through her damp pink locks. "Well, whatever you saw, you're making the wrong assumptions. I don't know what has you so pleased with yourself."
"Well, for starters, Sasuke is all mine now!" Karin clasped her hands together with delight while Suigetsu rolled his eyes. "Great," Sakura replied flatly. Wrenching another divider into the space between herself and the grinning pair, Sakura changed into her outfit, her scowl deepening upon hearing Karin's giggle to herself. "I'm kind of impressed, you know? Madara is terrifying. Probably the most frightening enemy you could have, other than Lord Orochimaru, or myself," she said, her words occasionally accompanied by Suigetsu's amused hums of agreement. He pitched in at last, nudging Karin when Sakura shot them another lethal glare from behind her small changing divider. "We all knew your plan was to distract him, but not in that way," he contributed, waggling his brows. "Should we say congratulations that you actually managed to catch his eye?"
Sakura scowled at Madara's Rinnegan resting in her palm before stalking over to its tank, beginning to work on unlocking it. Karin was bouncing upon her mattress beside Suigetsu. "Hah! Good one, Suigetsu."
He aimed his toothy grin at her as she went on, her glittering eyes affixed upon Sakura. "How funny that it turns out you dig scary old grandpas? No competition for me and Sasuke now! Tell me, how long have you and Madara been getting down and dirty? How did that even come about?"
"You really need to get over Sasuke. And yourself," Sakura grumbled. Slipping the eye into its tank and securing it shut, she hoisted it into her arms, glowering at the troublesome pair where they continued to grin impishly at her. "Whatever. You guys can have fun with your assumptions. I need to go get my mission report done. Thanks to you keeping me in that tank this long, it's overdue."
"Have fun writing in your journal about your boyfriend," Suitgetsu called out as Sakura stormed off, and she was red as a beet by the time she'd left the room, captive eye in hand.