ZERO / BLEACH / TWIST / REVERSE (here) / DYE / RED

Let your soul stand cool and composed before a million universes. -Walt Whitman

The hands of the clock were ticking backwards. Sakura was aware that this was a dream. It felt familiar, somehow. As she stood on cobblestone streets. Her head tilting back as she stared up at the tower.

"That thing's loud," someone said from beside her.

"Yeah," she agreed, wrinkling her nose. "Must've taken them a fortune to build it in the first place."

"Waste of money, if you ask me. How's it even work anyway?" her invisible companion wondered.

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket. "Whole thing is filled with cogs and pulleys. It's jam-packed with metal," she replied, squinting at the structure. The inside must have been an awful cacophony of moving parts.

"Someday, they'll figure out a way to make it work better. Make it quieter," she mused. After all, it had only taken a century for this mud-filled village to become a town. It might even become a city, filled with carriages and people in beautiful clothes that shimmered in the candlelight.

The long hand of the clock reached the top of the circle. The bell at the top of the tower began ringing out its song.

"Loud!" her companion yowled in protest.

She was laughing. Just as she looked toward him to say something, she opened her eyes to the familiar ceiling of her room. She slipped her hand under her pillow. The rib from Madara's scrying bones was still where she had left it the night before.

When she touched her cheek, it was dry. For some reason, she had been expecting to wake up in tears. Not that her dream had been sad. In fact, she remembered being happy in that dream. Why, she couldn't really explain. Just that whoever she had been speaking to was someone that made her smile.

Sakura strained to listen. There was a faint clatter from downstairs. Probably Madara moving around the kitchen as he made coffee for himself.

Sakura closed her fingers around the scrying bone.

"Any thoughts?" she questioned it.

Isn't it more beautiful to create than to destroy? It repeated the same message it had given her a few weeks ago.

"Thanks. Super helpful," she sighed. But just as her fingers began to uncurl, she heard a soft laugh. It didn't sound disjointed and breathy like the normal voice of the scrying bone. Instead, it sounded oddly like a person.

Break it, kid.

Before she could remember why that sounded familiar, she heard footsteps coming upstairs.

"You awake?" Madara asked.

Sakura threw her covers off, leaping out of bed. "Yeah! I'm up!" she called back. She scrambled to find a place to hide the scrying bone. She ended up shoving it into her bag, burying it somewhere among her books and notes. Her panic was silly. Madara wouldn't just barge into her room like that. She puffed out a breath, sinking into the chair in front of her vanity. Her reflection sported dark circles, as it often did during this cycle. Dreams weren't a place of rest for her anymore. They were all crime scenes that she scoured for even the barest clues.

She ran through the day's schedule in her head. She needed to go to the Senju Academy to do some work on her thesis. Then she had promised to get lunch with Ino. Even if she hadn't clued Ino to what was going on, that didn't mean she had to stop spending time with her.

Her phone lit up. She lifted it to find a text from Gaara. He said good morning. Like he did every day.

She had been avoiding this conversation with him since their first date. Her gut twisted as she remembered the way his blood spilled across the floor. Heaving a sigh, she pressed his name to dial his number.

Gaara picked up the phone right away. Like he had been staring at it, waiting for a text back from her.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" he apologized right away.

"No. I was up already," she assured him. And then she clenched her free hand into a fist. "Um… can I come visit? I could use some company."

There was a pause. And then a startled laugh. Bright and breathy. Like he couldn't believe what he had just heard.

"Of course. Walk slowly. I need to clean up a little."

As she hung up, Sakura's shaking hands dropped her phone. It clattered across the floorboards. She let it sit there as she took deep breaths to quell the urge to just scream out all her frustration.

Gaara looked happy to see her when he opened the door. He always looked happy to see her. Sakura had to swallow down her impatience as he offered to make her coffee or hot chocolate. She forced a smile and replied, "Coffee sounds good."

They stood in his tiny kitchen, blowing steam away from the mugs.

"So… is everything alright?" he asked. He was looking down at his drink. Sakura stared at him, gauging his expression. How truthful could she be? How direct could she be without pushing him too far? She liked to think she knew him at least a little by now. But the truth was that she had hit reset on her time with him too many times. She knew the beginning at that was it.

It was already halfway through November. Each day felt like it was bringing her closer to the ghastly scene in the library. Dragging with it the screams and blood that came with the new year.

"Gaara, I need you to be honest with me," she finally said, making a decision.

Gaara looked up from his mug. Eyes widening.

"Okay," he agreed too quickly.

"I'm Madara's adopted daughter," she told him.

Gaara sucked in a sharp breath. "What?" His brow furrowed, as if to say 'he never mentioned he had a daughter'.

"You already know that Madara's weirdly private about some things. He took me in when I was a kid. I know that you've been assisting him with some of his research. I need you to tell me some things about that."

Gaara's eyes narrowed. "Sorry, Sakura, nothing personal, but I'm going to need a little more proof than 'trust me'."

That made her smile. She wished he had been this skeptical when it mattered. Maybe if she had asked him after knowing him for a little while longer, he wouldn't have doubted her like this. But doubt was good. Doubt might protect him this time around.

"Madara wears his glasses on a chain. It's enchanted hematite and quartz. He gets annoyed because it gets caught on his hair sometimes," Sakura recalled.

Gaara frowned. "What color is the chain?"

"It looks like silver, but it's actually steel."

"Why does he need glasses?"

"His vision is fine. There's a spell on the lenses that helps him read faster," she replied. When Gaara gaped at her, a smile curled the corner of her mouth up. She added, "I used to steal his glasses when I was cramming for finals."

Gaara scrutinized for a moment longer. And then a smile crept back onto his face. "Isn't that technically cheating?"

Sakura sniffed. "I checked the rules. It's not if I only use them while studying. Excuse you."

That made Gaara laugh a little.

"Okay, you do know him. But then that's even weirder," he said, sobering, "Why can't you just ask him yourself?"

It was a valid question. One that she didn't even know how to begin answering if she'd had any intention of doing so. Gaara saw her fumbling. And it was a reminder that just because he was nice to her didn't mean that he was stupid when he spoke again.

"You hear yourself, right? It's so incredibly sketchy for you to say you're his daughter, but then you can't talk to him yourself?"

At Madara's feet lay Gaara. Unmoving. The ornate handle of a knife protruding from his throat. She hadn't even heard him fall.

"He won't tell me even if I ask," she answered, feeling a little queasy. And then the corner of her mouth quirked up as she met Gaara's gaze. "Does it have to do with your heart? Something about a demon?" she joked.

Gaara's face went white.

"…D…Did he tell you that?" he whispered. He realized his mistake when Sakura answered with a look of confusion. Then, her eyes widened as she understood what he meant. Gaara clapped both his hands over his mouth, shaking his head.

"Oh Papa, what have you done?" Sakura whispered to herself.

Steam stopped rising off their drinks by the time Gaara was able to speak. They were both sitting on the kitchen floor now. It didn't escape her that this wasn't the first time she'd found herself having a serious conversation on the floor of someone's kitchen this time around. Maybe each loop had some sort of trend like this- something she'd been missing up until now.

"I'm not… real. At least… this isn't organic," Gaara said, gesturing to himself. The sleeves of his sweater had slipped down to cover his hands. He looked almost like a kid who was wearing something that didn't belong to him.

"So you're a… construct?" Sakura tried to be tactful. Gaara shook his head a little.

"Not a machine. I'm organic in the sense that I'm flesh and blood. But this body isn't the one I was born into," Gaara elaborated. He held his hand out to her. Pulling his sleeve up, he exposed his forearm to her. The joint that attached his hand to his arm began to glow neon people. The runes that held his skin and bones in place began to light up, spiraling slowly around his wrist like a strange bracelet.

Sakura reached out and gently touched the edges of the enchantment with her own magic. Suddenly, she could hear the swirl and rush of all the different spells that wove together to keep his body in place. It was incredibly complex. A spell told his skin how to shape around the bones. Another one told his blood vessels how to weave through his flesh.

"A homunculus. I thought they could only exist in theory," Sakura breathed, her wondering eyes finally meeting Gaara's gaze. He blinked at her. His green eyes were perfectly human. And they were afraid.

It occurred to Sakura then.

"New research?"

"Yeah. Dry as hell," Madara huffed. He tapped his fingers on the cover a few times. It was an old book- bound with a hint of enchantment to hold everything together.

"What's it about?"

"Magical prosthetics and casting compatibility," Madara answered without hesitation. He was never stingy about sharing with her- especially not with knowledge.

"So whether casters can channel magic through prosthetic limbs?" Sakura guessed.

Madara's mouth twisted. "Sort of. Also whether those prosthetics can be enchanted to respond better to certain types of magic."

Sakura wrinkled her nose. "Sounds complicated."

"It is," Madara agreed.

"Magical prosthetics and casting compatibility," Sakura remembered out loud. Then she looked at Gaara again to ask: "Is that why you can't cast spells?"

A grimace confirmed her suspicions.

"But a homunculus can only house an existing soul. Did-" Sakura interrupted herself with a gasp. She grabbed Gaara's arm. Her hands passing through the visible runes still circling his wrist. "Did Papa do that?"

Gaara looked horrified at the very thought. He ripped free of her grasp.

"No! Madara would never!" he spat.

Sakura envied him for that confidence. There was once a time when she had believed in absolutes like that. A time when she was so certain that it was her against the world with only one exception.

She blinked.

That last thought had been hers.

But… when had she first thought that way? She couldn't recall.

Gaara seemed to take her silence as a demand to explain. When he began speaking again, it startled her a little.

"My father became obsessed with gaining more power. He was experimenting with planting a demon inside of me. I died. It was all thanks to The Arcanist that I had somewhere to go."

Sakura felt her stomach twist up inside. She could imagine feeling all the magical pathways in the body splitting and shredding. The shock of cold as the constant warmth of magic fled her, spilling and gushing from her eyes, her ears.

"Your soul was…torn from your body? That's… oh…how terrible," she whispered, clasping her shaking hands together.

Gaara smiled, but it was a sad expression.

"Yeah. It's… I'm glad that I've forgotten a lot of it. Having your soul fractured and ripped from its vessel is painful. You lose your mind. I still don't have the courage to face my siblings. They must have put up with… a lot," he added, shoulders sagging.

"Fractured?"

Gaara bit his lip, looking away. "Madara managed to salvage most of it. But there are bits and pieces that I've lost. Apparently I used to be scared of heights. That's gone. And… and… I don't remember what either of my parents looked like anymore." Sighing, he buried his face in his hands.

Sakura clenched her hands in her lap. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"No. It's not your fault." Gaara lowered his hands. He gave her a thin smile. "And I can see why you'd be suspicious. But I didn't know he was your dad. I swear."

Too many questions swirled around in her head at once.

"You said you lost your mind?" She didn't know why that was the one she asked. Gaara didn't seem surprised, though. He wrapped his arms around himself.

"It's painful. So painful that you lose reason. I remember hurting people… killing a lot of them too," he replied. Gaara closed his eyes. "I'm sure Madara heard the rumors. He found me and pulled me into a body. He checks in on me once or twice a year, just to check on the soul implantation and strengthen the spells holding me together."

"That's necromancy," she realized. Anything that had to do with bodies and souls fell under the umbrella of necromancy.

She had always suspected that Madara had some experience in that field. There were books in the library that he tried to put away without her noticing. But he had missed a few titles here and there. Books on human anatomy and the limitations of the spirit before it would crack. Sometimes there were even ones bound in what looked like human skin. She pretended not to notice whenever he found another one and blurred the title on the spine into something boring she would never think to choose. She had always figured that he must have his reasons for not wanting to talk about it.

Necromancy wasn't illegal, but it wasn't a popular form of magic. It was most difficult to master out of all the forms of black magic, the magic of force. Most tended to train in other forms of black magic instead- abjuration was most popular, followed by magical disruption. Much of Madara's research was based in black magic, so it wasn't exactly shocking to think he would have experience in necromancy as well.

Sakura had dabbled in necromancy once or twice as a child. Madara had neither encouraged nor discouraged it. Although he had kept a close eye on her, for her protection, she had assumed.

Breathing energy and purpose back into animal skeletons was as challenging as it was entertaining. But in the end, she had chosen abjuration magic instead. Something about it had felt right in her hands.

"Gaara," Sakura said. His eyes opened.

"This is going to sound crazy-"

"More crazy than me telling you that my body is basically a shell held together by magic?" Gaara countered.

She smiled a little. "Yes."

His postured straightened a little at that.

"I don't know why, but Madara's made a contract with a demon. And the payment is my heart," she confessed. Gaara sucked in a sharp breath, face pinching. "Yeah. You can see why I'm a little desperate for answers right now."

Gaara's eyes narrowed.

"Yeah. I know. Too many similarities," she then answered his unvoiced question. She turned the new facts over in her head.

"Maybe… maybe he went to find you because it was similar to what he was trying to do… When did… that happen to you?"

Gaara sighed. "Almost 11 years ago."

That was five years after Madara had taken her in. She didn't have any idea when the contract had been made in the first place. It wasn't like these things had uniform expiration dates. The timeline of the contract differed depending on the spirit involved and the price agreed upon.

She wondered why Madara would go through all the trouble of making Gaara a body just to kill him in the end?

Unless…

"Wait. Did you say 'a shell' earlier?" Sakura demanded.

Gaara nodded. Her question seemed to sink in. Gaara paled again.

"Things go inside of shells, don't they?"

"If… do you think…"

"I don't know."

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. And Sakura felt horrible for piling on more bad news, but it didn't feel right to keep this from Gaara. Especially if these clues were guiding her towards the right, but horrible, conclusion she suspected.

"I've been having… I don't know if they're dreams. Maybe they're visions. But every time, I see him kill you, Gaara. I dreamt it before we'd even been on our first date," she confessed. She lifted her hand. Hesitated. Let it hover just over Gaara's hand. When he didn't move out of the way, she carefully placed her hand on top of his. He was shaking.

"I'm going to try to get some answers. Please stay away from him until we do," she begged.

The last time she'd asked him to avoid Madara, she hadn't given him a good enough reason. He had broken his promise to her then. But she couldn't blame him for that.

Maybe this time.

Gaara pulled his hand away from hers. But he was nodding.

"Yeah. I think that's a good idea," he agreed.

That night, Sakura opened her eyes to find the door to the dream world waiting in front of her. The old, rugged wood was purple. But when she stared, the colors seem to bleed together. Purple, red, green, mixing like paints swirling in a bucket. The vines curling around the frame were dark- almost black. Along the vines were tight buds that she had never seen bloom before. Some of the vines had grown into the slats of the door, moving inward to frame the lock under the handle.

She had asked around.

None of her cousins saw a lock when they fell asleep.

Sakura reached out and brushed her fingers along the lock. There was a breeze that stirred. It sounded a little like whispers. But nothing else happened.

When she pushed the door, it opened without protest.

The hallway inside was illuminated in soft, purplish light. Inviting. Safe as always.

Sasuke's door was lit from within. She could see his shape moving behind the frosted glass. A little further down, pulses of orange and red light seeped out from under Shisui's door. Itachi's door was dark when she walked past. But the knob was still there- crystal and brass with carvings of birds decorating the plate and handle. Madara wasn't sleeping either. She brushed her fingers over the bright silver knob as she walked past.

When she slipped into her room, the door closed softly behind her.

As soon as her foot hit the rug, she felt the world tilt sideways. And then it turned upside down. The world blurred, then sharpened.

She looked down. (Up? It wasn't any less disorienting the second time.)

Her other self waved.

"You're doing well," she said.

Sakura didn't know how to respond to that. "Uh… thank you?"

Her other self beamed, chin in her hand.

"So? What's next?" her other self asked.

"I'm not really sure."

At this, her other self sighed. She pointed at her lap.

"I told you what you have to do," she nagged.

Sakura looked down. Somehow, the scrying bones were scattered on the ground in front of her. They were resting on the rug, completely unbothered by the fact that they were upside down.

"You know, you're pretty bossy for a pile of bones," Sakura grumbled.

There was a pause. And then other self burst into laughter.

"You know, just for that, I'll give you another hint," her other self declared. Sakura's gaze flew back up to her. Her other self grinned.

"You are loved terribly."

Sakura's mouth twisted to one side. "Terribly like a lot, or terribly like in a bad way?"

Her other self didn't answer. Just gave her a little wave. The scrying bones began to glow. When Sakura looked down, the rib that she favored was shining the most. She picked it up, listening to a chorus of hissing whispers pour from the bone. She felt a sharp pain in her side as blood began oozing out of the cracks.

Sakura woke with a start. She was shivering. Her covers had pooled around her legs during the night. Her body was cold and hot all at once. Her shirt was damp, like she had been sweating. She sat up in bed. The same sensation from her dream pulled at her right side.

She yelped, pressing her hand to the pain. Even in the darkness, she saw that her hand came away wet and dark.

She screamed. She couldn't help it. She screamed and panicked. And in that panic, she heard herself calling "Papa!" before she could stop herself.

The door flew open, knob banging against the wall. Madara swept in, robes falling off his shoulders, only wearing one of his slippers. He snapped his fingers, orbs of light flickering into the air around his hand.

"What happened?" he demanded, hurrying over to her side.

"I don't know. I don't know. It was just a dream," she babbled over and over again, hands pressed tightly to her side.

Madara's face was tight as he knelt beside the bed. It took some coaxing, and then some force to peel her hands away from the right side of her body. Blood was seeping into her shirt, staining the sheets. Something went dark in Madara's eyes. He pressed one big hand to her wound. The other hand he flung out to the side. Sparks of red shot out from his fingers, bouncing into the hallway.

"Check the house," he whispered. Sakura could feel the magic crackle as it swept through every corner of every room. Hunting for whatever could have done this.

It didn't take much for Madara to seal up her side with a spell. His magic was warm. It soothed her like it always had, despite everything. The pain was gone, but she couldn't stop her hands from shaking.

"I've got you, kid. Don't worry," Madara murmured.

That was all it took for her to burst into tears. Throwing herself into his arms, she let herself cry. For all the versions of him that had broken her heart. For all the versions of her friends and cousins who had died. And for all the versions of herself that lay shattered into pieces.