In the same way she had mastered her chakra, Sakura had traversed ninja training in search of unshakeable emotional discipline. This trial stood as one of the most formidable, for humans, by nature, were slaves to their emotions, whether benevolent or hostile. Few individuals managed to completely break free from this grip, to transform into mere instruments devoid of any passion. A reality that Sakura, having closely observed and experienced many times, knew all too well: emotions constituted the inevitable destiny of humanity. Hate could lead to murder, just as compassion could stay the hand ready to strike.
Her master had instilled in her that, even if the total eradication of emotions remained out of reach, their management remained achievable. To achieve this goal, meditation proved to be an invaluable tool, also unveiling the inner chakra of shinobi. However, few mastered this art to achieve total harmony with their chakra. And it was precisely this ardent quest that Sakura had been pursuing with determination for a month.
Balancing on the edge of her garden's promontory, Sakura's hands rested with infinite delicacy on her abdomen, palms turned towards the sky.
Her attention was fully captivated by her chakra, seeking to perceive it within herself, to feel it coursing through every fiber, passing through every Tenketsu. In a month, she had managed to discover how to harmonize with her chakra, an harmony that allowed her to conserve this vital energy. Yet, this realization did not fully satisfy the young woman. She desired to unravel the mystery surrounding the composition of chakra: this fusion between physical and spiritual energy. She knew that this power emanated from the union of these two forces, but the exact place where they merged to create chakra remained elusive. Where did they come together to give birth to this mystical essence?
This was exactly what Sakura had been searching for nearly an hour, unaware that she had been observed for some time by Madara, leaning in the shadow of his bed. As usual, every morning, he watched Sakura open wide the French doors, revealing a breathtaking view of the garden and the valley.
Madara contemplated this young woman, her back turned to him, with a certain perplexity. She had accomplished so much for him, even going so far as to save his life, a debt that could not be ignored. In the ruthless universe of shinobi, few could boast of having Madara in their debt. That's why, over the past few days, the man had maintained silence. It was his way of thanking her, but also a strategy to observe her and determine her true nature.
He silently and attentively followed the routine she had established for his care. Each session, Sakura gently placed her hands on his chest, allowing her chakra to penetrate him, a sensation that was soft, pleasant, comforting. Then, she inspected his vital organs and scrutinized the state of his seals to ensure everything was in order.
Invariably, she asked him the same questions during these inspections: did he feel any discomfort? Pain? Or itching? Once the routine was finished, she withdrew to what seemed to be a kitchen, only to return with a tray of food. So far, he had been entitled to only a single bowl of soup and rice, far from satisfying his hunger. The urge to demand more teased him, but his mouth remained obstinately closed except to answer her questions, perhaps because he recognized that this woman mastered her art. Once his meal was finished, she encouraged him to sleep, claiming that his body needed abundant rest, free from any stress.
Was this a Genjutsu she imposed on him, plunging him into sleep? Or was it an effect of her Kekkei Genkai? For Madara, the green chakra she mastered could only be the result of a rare, even exceptionally unique Kekkei Genkai. He had never encountered such a prodigy in his existence, and she wielded this energy with a skill comparable to his in the art of Ninjutsu.
Thus, immersed once again in his thoughts, Madara silently observed his savior through the windows of the residence.
What did his life mean now? Paralyzed, half-blind, he depended on a woman to survive. The shame that overwhelmed him in this moment was accompanied by a subdued anger. He felt miserable for failing in his quest for peace, for being powerless in the face of the doomed fate of his clan, for ultimately being... nothing at all!
Madara was so engrossed in his remorse that he slightly startled at the sound of Sakura's voice, emanating nearby.
"Good morning, Uchiha-san. Did you sleep well?" Sakura politely inquired, placing the large cushion on which she sat. Madara nodded as Sakura gently placed her hands on the freshly operated areas. "Do you feel any pain in your chest?"
"Only when I take a deep breath."
"It will take time before you can breathe fully again," explained Sakura before taking a pair of scissors to gently cut the bandages around his body.
"Where did you acquire these skills?" Madara asked, Sakura raising her gaze to peer into her patient's eyes. She noted that there was no animosity there, only curiosity.
"Most of my skills, I developed on my own," revealed Sakura while removing blood-soaked bandages. Thanks to her Medical Ninjutsu, the superficial scars had completely disappeared. However, the three surgeries she had performed left indelible traces. The scars were still a rosy red but seemed well healed.
"You learned this... alone?" Madara repeated, expressing a mild skepticism.
He detected no trace of falsehood in Sakura's gaze, but he still harbored enormous doubts about the truth of her words.
"I will slowly raise you. If you feel any pain in your stomach, tell me immediately," ordered Sakura before tackling the task. Her left arm slid behind Uchiha, while her eyes alternately scrutinized his belly and Madara's expressions.
"Stop!" exclaimed Madara with difficulty once almost in a sitting position. Sakura brought him back slightly.
"Is it a dull pain or a sharp pain at the scar site?"
"It was a sharp pain, as if a blade were being thrust into my stomach," replied the brunet, accustomed as a Shinobi to the sensation of a weapon penetrating flesh, especially after his confrontation with Hashirama Senju.
"Perfect! The healing is progressing better than expected."
Sakura continued her Medical Ninjutsu, unconcerned about their proximity. While their faces were only twenty centimeters apart, Madara turned his towards that of the young woman with green eyes.
"Answer my question, Haruno-san," asked Madara softly in a deep voice.
Sakura was taken aback. It was the first time Madara had called her by her last name, adding the suffix -san, a sign of minimal respect.
"At first, I didn't learn alone... like everyone, I had a master," revealed Sakura before looking away. Her mind was conflicted. Part of her would have liked him to behave badly, in the manner of the Madara she knew, to see how to react. But another part was satisfied to see that he could show a minimum of civility.
"Who is your master?"
"Was...," replied Sakura as she leaned the man forward again before asking : "still the same pain?"
"Better... still painful, but bearable."
"Try taking a deep breath and tell me if the pain is the same in the lung area."
Madara complied, realizing that it was easier for him to breathe.
"Better."
"Well, it seems that your lung has slightly returned to its place, and the pressure on your ribs has decreased," observed Sakura before completely tipping Madara onto the bed. "However, continue to take only shallow breaths until your organ heals."
Madara plunged back into his thoughts as Sakura left the room. The theory of the Kekkei Genkai remained plausible, although Sakura's skills were partially taught. Was it conceivable to learn from her?
Meanwhile, Sakura was outside her house, busy filling a wooden bathtub with water. A small stool and a large table were arranged nearby. Towels were placed here and there, and various bottles were placed on the table.
For several days, her patient had been bedridden, unable to move. So far, she had not been able to move him due to the recent surgeries, but his organs were now stable. It was high time to give the convalescent a bath, as he was still covered in dirt and blood, much like the bed on which he lay. Infections had to be reduced at all costs.
Sakura also poured a bath bead she had brought from the future. As she poured more water, the bead released a foam that would camouflage the water's interior. She hoped that Madara would feel less embarrassed when in the bath.
Plunging her hands into the water, she used her chakra to warm it to a pleasant temperature before returning to the house.
Near her patient, she placed her hands on the seals on his abdomen. His bladder was currently empty, as were his intestines, a sign that the seals were working properly. She emitted a spike of chakra to deactivate them, as water could alter the ink, which could cause irreversible damage. Then, she uncovered Madara's body before picking him up in her arms like a bride.
"What are you doing?!" complained the concerned man, hating to be carried in this way.
"Stop being such a baby," retorted Sakura, ignoring his protests. He wasn't the first man to be ashamed of being carried this way.
"Put me down, woman!"
"No... It's time to take a bath, Uchiha-san. You've been wallowing in your filth for four days, and now that your condition is stable, it's time to remedy that."
Once his body was fully immersed in the warm water, a sigh of contentment escaped his mouth. Only his shoulders, left arm, and head were not submerged. His left arm must not get wet because of all the seals inscribed on it, so Sakura wrapped it in a towel for safety.
"Try to relax ; your muscles need it," advised Sakura, rolling up her sleeves to her biceps before plunging her hands into the warm water.
"What are you still doing?!" protested Madara, feeling this woman removing his underwear.
"I'm removing your underwear ; you need to be washed everywhere, Uchiha-san."
"It's humiliating," growled Madara, now annoyed.
"Listen," started Sakura, pinching the bridge of her nose at the potential headache from this argument. "You're not the first patient I've had under my care, and you're also not the first naked man I've seen. You need to be washed, so swallow your misplaced pride and let it happen!"
"Don't give me orders, woman!"
"I'll give you orders if I want, Uchiha-san. You are currently under my care, and if I order you to do something for your health, you will comply," warned Sakura before taking a glove and soap in her hands.
"Who do you think you're talking to?" asked Madara, increasingly annoyed.
"To me, you're nothing, so stop whining. I'm not enjoying this any more than you are, and don't even think about activating your Sharingan to try to change my mind! Have you never had a woman wash you in the past?"
"Hn!" grunted Madara, turning his head away, offended.
This famous onomatopoeia confirmed to Sakura today that this peculiarity belonged to the Uchiha family. For a moment, she felt a twinge in her heart as she remembered the love of her life.
"If you're so embarrassed, close your eyes and enjoy the warm water."
In all his anger and shame, Madara began to slowly relax and appreciate the present moment, but of course, this was something he would never admit.
He couldn't remember the last time he had taken the time to relax and rest properly. His life had been nothing but battles, plots, betrayals, and wars. Taking a bath and being washed seemed strange to him.
However, he had to admit that Sakura was delicate in her movements, taking care not to inconvenience him or let any innuendo show. This attitude sparked a new flow of elusive questions in him. After a certain amount of time, a wet sensation touched his face. Instinctively, he opened his eyes to realize that Sakura was busy cleaning his face.
Why ? Why did she go to such lengths after the acts committed by her own clan against her? She didn't directly mention the subject, but her previous answers suggested that members of her own family might be responsible for the destruction of her village. Did she intend to make him pay by cultivating in him a sense of shame? Forcing him to live with the burden of a disabled existence?
"Why are you doing this?" he questioned after a heavy silence.
"What do you mean, Uchiha-san?"
"Why save me that night? I am nothing more than a shadow of myself," he replied with disgust. "This is how I perceive myself, a wreck."
"Because I had the power to do so," Sakura said, gently tapping her glove on Madara's right eyelid.
"Hope for what in the end? Spend my life bedridden, waiting for death?" Madara retorted sarcastically.
"Life is a gift that was given to us, that's why it's called the present," Sakura said wisely.
"How is being paralyzed a gift?" the brunet protested, not inclined to philosophize about life.
"Who said you're going to stay paralyzed?" Sakura questioned with a raised eyebrow.
"Pardon?"
"Do you really think you're going to stay paralyzed?" Sakura asked with an amused smile.
This did not escape Uchiha, who appreciated seeing the young woman smile. It was, in fact, the first time he had seen this expression on her face. Still smiling, she left her question hanging for a few seconds before continuing:
"I fully intend to make you walk again, Uchiha-san... it will take time, but I can guarantee that one day you will be a Shinobi again."
"We'll see," Madara said with a spark of hope in his heart. Undoubtedly, this woman was convinced and determined to achieve it. The brunet sensed that her eyes were telling the truth as she assured him she would get him back on his feet and restore his ninja dignity.
"lose your left eye," Sakura requested to clean his eyelid.
"How is it that I've never heard of you?"
"I am rather discreet," Sakura said, but Madara was not willing to accept that answer. The secrets she kept frustrated him to the highest degree.
"Stop taking me for a fool, Haruno-san. You possess knowledge that even I, before meeting you, was unaware of. Your skills surpass many ninjas, and your mastery of the human body could revolutionize the Shinobi world. How many lives could be saved if you shared what you know? So, answer me honestly."
Hearing these words, Sakura understood that there was a glimmer of hope in this man. He had discerned that she was a ninja, that her skills were extraordinary, but he had assessed these abilities from a humanistic perspective rather than a warrior one. A rare mentality that warmed her heart.
"I apologize, Uchiha-san, but it's something I prefer to keep to myself for now. We all have our secrets. Tilt your head back," Sakura said before standing up and taking a bucket, which she filled with water.
She gently poured the water on Madara's hair, making sure not to let it flow onto his face. Then, she grabbed a container of shampoo and applied it generously to his hair. Madara felt the energy of her fingers vigorously massaging his hair and scalp.
"You've been trained in ninja arts, haven't you?" Madara asked, though it was more of an assertion than a question.
"You seem surprised that it's possible? Why couldn't a woman do it?" Sakura asked sincerely, seeking to understand the brunet's perspective on women.
"It's not a woman's job. Usually, they are either too weak or too sensitive to accomplish what is necessary," he asserted without hesitation, with assumed eloquence.
The response did not surprise Sakura, in line with what Rikudô had previously explained to her before her arrival here. Although offended by these disregarding remarks about women, she preferred to keep her emotions buried within her. She continued with her current task; rinsing all the foam from the brunet's hair before taking a large comb and starting the laborious task of untangling.
"Don't be mistaken, Uchiha-san, it's not because I'm a woman that I am weak. I am perfectly capable of taking someone's life. My knowledge makes me a deadly person. I have as much blood on my hands as you do, and it's despite myself," she calmly revealed, continuing her work on the brunet's hair.
"If you regret the death of your enemies, then that makes you weak," the man retorted with contempt.
Sakura did not immediately respond, keeping her nerves in check. This man was truly an enigma. One moment, he seemed to inspire hope that he could change and be open-minded, only to become, the next moment, a perfect fool.
"On the contrary, that's what makes me human," she replied wisely as she finished untangling the man's black mane. She grabbed a dry towel to pat him dry, removing as much moisture as possible. "Is it weak to lend a helping hand? Is it weak to help your fellow human being? Does it make me weak to have saved you from death, Uchiha Madara?"
No response came from the Uchiha, and in fact, Sakura did not expect one because she knew deep down that she was right. She plunged her arms into the bath to lift Madara's body and gently lay him on the table, ensuring to preserve his privacy. Once dry, she put on him underwear, followed by black silk pants, then picked him up again in her arms.
"How on earth do you accomplish such a feat?" inquired Madara, captivated by the evident power of this woman. Her arms, although athletic, remained strangely delicate. It would have been logical for a person of her stature to never be able to lift him with such ease. Not that he felt particularly massive, but he had a sufficient awareness of his own weight.
"What do you mean?" Sakura replied, displaying a bold smile that had the knack of irritating Uchiha. She gently placed him on the cushions arranged around the coffee table, then headed to the bed to remove the blood-stained sheets.
"How is it that you carry me as if I weigh nothing at all?" Madara insisted.
"I don't know," Sakura replied boldly, still adorned with her enigmatic smile. She was aware of the annoyance she caused Uchiha by deliberately maintaining the mystery surrounding her person.
"Are you trying to make me believe that you don't know the origin of your power?" the brunet insisted, dissatisfied with her previous answer. He knew full well that she enjoyed keeping the mystery surrounding her person.
"No, I'm just saying that I don't plan to reveal my skills to just anyone. Am I badgering you about your Sharingan? Its specifics? Or what you might do with it?" she retorted while pulling out new sheets from one of the cabinets.
Madara conceded with a slight nod, his eyes carefully scrutinizing the woman in front of him. He was aware that she held secrets, concealed whole truths behind her penetrating eyes. The Uchiha, accustomed to dominating the intricacies of information, felt intrigued by this living enigma that stood out distinctly from the women he had encountered before. Her subtle way of sidestepping questions while encouraging reflection undoubtedly revealed sharply honed ninja talents. A mysterious smile floated on the woman's lips, reinforcing the mystery that enveloped her.
"Perhaps, but our job is to gather information," she revealed, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Silence settled in, Madara attentively observing each of her movements as she remade the bed with disconcerting ease. He obediently followed her when she guided him into a semi-sitting position, allowing trust to establish itself between them, fragile as it may be.
"No discomfort or pain?" she inquired with solicitude.
"Except for my pride? Nothing," grumbled Madara, a hint of humor tinting his deep voice.
Sakura remained impassive in response, concealing any inner smile that might have surfaced. Despite Madara Uchiha being an accomplished Shinobi, he couldn't escape his humanity, sometimes behaving like a child frustrated by disobedience. Without losing her composure, she headed towards her desk, grabbing the inkwell and brush once again. Comfortably seated on the bed, she offered him an ideal position to meticulously redraw the bladder and intestines seals, which had been erased during the bath.
"Are you affiliated with the Uzumaki clan?" the brunet continued, scrutinizing the young woman for any clues.
"No," Sakura replied without hesitation, although deep down, the hope of meeting the members of the Uzumaki clan someday to discuss the subtle art of Fuinjutsu persisted.
"How come you bear the same seal as Mito Uzumaki, then?" he questioned with suspicion. To his knowledge, only the daughter of the Uzumaki clan chief possessed such a forehead seal.
"The Uzumaki don't hold a monopoly on the subtle art of Fuinjutsu. They excel in this field globally, but nothing proves that this seal is exclusive to their clan, or even that it originated from them. As for this Mito Uzumaki, I have no idea who she is, but I highly doubt her seal could rival mine," she declared with no hint of humility.
Madara perceived a certain arrogance in her words as the young woman traced patterns on his skin. She claimed, without reservation, that her seal surpassed that of Mito Uzumaki, renowned for her mastery of Fuinjutsu. Yet, she claimed not to know her.
"But who are you exactly? You appear out of nowhere, endowed with skills that no one has ever seen, and you claim to be superior to Mito Uzumaki," the brunet exclaimed.
"Am I not?" Sakura retorted naturally, continuing the complex patterns on her patient's body.
"So, you do know Mito, to assert that with such confidence," he concluded through deduction.
"Only by reputation," Sakura replied before putting away her tools and activating the two seals.
"Who are you?" he asked once again, each word spoken with marked insistence, as Madara sought to unravel the mystery surrounding the young woman.
"Is it really crucial to know my identity? Couldn't you just accept Sakura Haruno, the one who saved you from death and takes care of you?" sighed the young woman, facing this obstinacy. She had no intention of revealing more concrete information about herself, either now or later.
Uchiha understood that he wouldn't get more for the moment. He resigned to this answer, refraining from insisting, even though he had to admit that the glimpse he had confirmed potentially the superiority of the young woman over Mito.
"I'll prepare some food. Would you prefer to stay like this, or do you have a preference for reading?" she offered.
"Do you have a book about what you did to my heart?" Madara asked seriously.
"Are you sure? You might not understand anything," Sakura was surprised by his unexpected request.
"Yes."
Sakura went to one of her bookshelves, selecting a particular book. Its brown cover denoted considerable thickness. It was a book written by her former master, but this information was exclusive to Sakura. Proactively, she had changed the names of certain books before her journey to the past, anticipating any potential discovery. The kunoichi was now pleased to have taken this precaution, especially given Madara's request for reading.
"The Human Heart by Tsunade Haruno," Madara read, seizing the book with assurance despite having only one functional arm. "Your mother, perhaps?"
"Yes... Enjoy your reading," Sakura replied succinctly.
She had no intention of submitting to a new interrogation, even though, in a way, this response constituted a half-truth. Tsunade Senju had always been, for her, a motherly figure. Withdrawing to the kitchen to prepare the meal, Sakura left Madara alone for a few moments, lost in his thoughts, his gaze fixed on the place she had left before returning to reality, summoned by the sounds coming from the kitchen.
The Kekkei Genkai theory regained strength upon discovering Tsunade Haruno's name on the book cover. Madara opened it to a random page, stumbling upon a meticulously detailed diagram that widened his eyes. Too many details, too much information.
With his Sharingan, Madara had acquired the ability to read quickly, and he instantly immersed himself in the reading. The functioning of the human heart was exposed in detail, accompanied by diagrams depicting its physiology. Each component of this organ was carefully named, and specific surgical instructions were provided for each type of injury. As Sakura had warned earlier, many medical terms seemed meaningless to him. After twenty minutes of reading, Madara became aware of the extent of the feat accomplished by the young woman who was busy cooking in the adjacent room. Undoubtedly, it was a skill that he would find completely impossible to replicate.
If a book like this existed, why was he informed of it for the first time? Why were individuals like Sakura or her mother not mentioned in any of his reports? Why had no one mentioned their existence? These questions tormented his mind.
Madara's reading was abruptly interrupted by the arrival of the person at the center of all his thoughts. She placed a steaming bowl of rice and vegetables on his desk before approaching with a tray. As usual, only two bowls and a glass of water were set.
"Why has your mother never published this book?" Madara inquired as he slowly savored the soup served by Sakura.
Sakura did not immediately respond. She pondered what might have happened if Tsunade had indeed tried to publish this book during the Sengoku era.
"She tried... but because she was a woman, she wasn't taken seriously. It was believed that a mere woman couldn't understand anything about medicine and that she should leave this field to those who knew more," Sakura explained, a tinge of bitterness in her voice.
"You don't seem to have a high opinion of men," observed Madara.
"That's not the issue, Uchiha-san. What I despise are men who believe they're superior to women just because they have a pair of balls between their legs," Sakura replied, staring Madara straight in the eyes to make her message clear.
"Is that a threat?"
"Take it as you wish; it won't change anything for me," Sakura replied sharply before deliberately sliding a spoonful of rice between Madara's lips.
"What do you aspire to in life, then?" the brunet asked out of curiosity.
Madara did not receive an immediate answer, but rather an intense gaze from the young woman. She seemed to be evaluating him, trying to determine if he was ready to receive a sincere answer from her.
"I aspire to many things in life, Uchiha-san, and none of them are easy to obtain," Sakura admitted, half with a touch of sadness. She wanted to see her friends, mentors, family, her world again. But above all, she aspired to bring peace to this world. However, she couldn't reveal all her motivations yet. She shifted her attention to the bowl of rice in her hands, as if the solution to her concerns might lie in food, a momentary escape from the brunet's question.
"Is that why you saved me?"
"Perhaps," Sakura murmured in a subdued voice.
"So, you didn't save me for no reason, then," Madara insisted, receiving in return a hard and impassive look from the young woman.
"I admit that initially, I wanted to crush your brain in the same way I destroyed Black Zetsu the other night," Sakura declared coldly. The warrior's face was again impassive, one of the facets that Madara appreciated the most. "But... I couldn't judge you before knowing you, so I saved you... to see if you were like all the other Uchiha I've encountered... And..."
Sakura paused, briefly turning her gaze outside. Madara preferred to remain silent, aware that he had already learned a lot in a short time and reluctant to jeopardize everything. Some words seemed to awaken a more expressive side of her. A woman of character, she wasn't easily intimidated, but once one knew how to deal with her, she became less intimidating.
"And?" Madara gently encouraged.
"And I thought that if you were different, maybe you could help me," Sakura concluded, placing the second bowl. It gave the brunet something to think about until a detail came to his mind.
"Who was this Black Zetsu?"
As soon as his question evaporated into the air, the sound of shattered glass echoed. His gaze quickly descended, revealing that the young woman had shattered the glass between her fingers. A face imbued with hatred and anger appeared at the mere mention of that name.
"He was one of the architects of the disappearance of those I loved," Sakura articulated before sighing, leaning down to pick up the shattered glass shards. "It would be advisable for you to rest, Uchiha-san," she insisted sharply to close the subject.
"Is it really necessary?"
"Yes, your body still demands rest."
"One last question: what are you contributing to, exactly?" the Uchiha persisted.
Sakura's eyes met his, mixing hope and apprehension. She no longer struggled with the dilemmas of what she should or shouldn't reveal, stating clearly, "Bringing peace to this plagued world," before quickly placing her fingers on Madara's temple. The exchange had drained her, and she had no intention of debating further with him on this subject.
"Rest," she whispered as he plunged into sleep.
Grabbing the book he held, Sakura delicately placed it on the bedside table as tears silently traced their way down her cheeks.