Day 93
Three days had passed since Sakura had compelled Madara to cease his wanderings, invoking a prescription for imperative rest. Though the residual pains from his recent skirmish lingered, they remained at a manageable level. Yet, Sakura insisted on complete recovery, disregarding Madara's desire to rediscover the pleasure of moving freely.
Once again, he found himself ensnared in a medical routine. The proximity of the young woman did not bother him; quite the opposite. He genuinely enjoyed feeling Sakura by his side, memories resonating with the captivating scent she had deployed to captivate him. Just thinking about it made him stagger.
"Any pain, Madara-san?"
"None, no pain whatsoever."
"Sit up," commanded Sakura, keeping her distance.
Madara complied effortlessly, though the movement was executed with calculated slowness. The swift actions during his recent battle had put a strain on his body, resulting in these discomforts.
"Still no discomfort?"
"None, I feel fine."
"Perfect," declared Sakura before crouching down. Assisting Madara in putting on his sandals, she combined utility with pleasure, aware that bending movements still posed a challenge for him. "We will warm up before starting the rehabilitation."
A broad smile illuminated Sakura's face as she took Madara's hand to support him, leading him resolutely outside.
"What's our plan, Sakura-san?"
"Three days ago, during our confrontation, you demonstrated that your body is recovering properly. However, the fight slightly delayed my program with your abrupt and rapid movements... but everything is now settled. So, we are going to start with a run, gentle indeed, but a run nonetheless."
Madara welcomed the news with palpable satisfaction. He considered himself lucky to have this determined ally by his side. Without her, he sincerely wondered what would have become of him... probably a corpse six feet underground or prey to scavengers.
"I know that as shinobi, we can subject our bodies to intense trials, but since yours is still fragile, we need to do some stretching," announced Sakura, positioning herself in front of her patient. "Imitate me, and above all, don't push to the point of pain!"
Madara followed the unusual movements that the young woman executed, discovering previously unsuspected motions.
"What is this for?" inquired Madara, stretching one of his legs.
"Chakra protects our bodies during runs, fights, jumps, or any other physical activity essential to a shinobi. Before using your chakra, it is necessary to strengthen your muscles and joints. Without proper warm-up, you could do more harm than good."
"I understand," replied Madara.
"Still no pain, right?" asked Sakura, after ten minutes of various stretches.
"None."
"Perfect, let's go."
Madara silently meditated on the possibility that his father, if still in this world, would certainly disapprove of his current attitude. The idea of obeying a woman would probably have triggered a violent reaction from this relentless patriarch. An Uchiha submitted to no one, especially not a clan leader, and certainly not a woman. However, Madara was far from being his father, and he could recognize individual strength when he encountered it. This woman exuded undeniable power, and perhaps that was why he let himself be guided by her.
As he gently followed the young woman, Madara recalled his mother's words, spoken long ago: "I hope you will find a woman capable of filling your heart, my son." At that time, Madara was only fifteen, imbued with an education focused on combat, unable to grasp the meaning of his mother's maternal words. His mother had little influence on him, given that, as the future clan leader, he had to reject any female influence that could alter his worldview. However, after three months by Sakura's side, Madara was beginning to see the truth behind his late mother's words.
His parents' union had been motivated by political considerations to strengthen the ties of the Uchiha clan. Fortunately, his mother was in love with his father before their marriage, a rarity in the Sengoku era. She ardently hoped that her children would experience the happiness of true love. After all, a mother wanted nothing but the best for her children.
Madara questioned his own feelings. Was it love that he felt deep within him? And this woman, Sakura, did she have the power to make him happy? Madara realized that he was incapable of recognizing love, even if it stood before him in an obvious manner.
"Greetings, Sakura-san! Lord-sama!" shouted Hitomi from a distance, busy harvesting rice alongside two companions who waved cheerfully.
"Hello!" replied Sakura, sending a friendly wave towards her friend.
Madara, not inclined towards verbal exchanges, nodded slightly in Hitomi's direction before resuming his run following Sakura.
Time passed, Madara lost in his thoughts while responding to Sakura's constant concerns about his health. Heat enveloped his body, sweat beaded, and he savored this intense physical sensation that he had missed so much. A faint smile appeared on his lips.
However, after a while, his hair became a slight hindrance.
"Sakura-san."
Just hearing Madara say her name made the young woman come to a sudden stop. She immediately thought that he had reached his limits.
"Yes?" she inquired, approaching him.
Madara extended his hand towards Sakura's head, his gaze intensely fixed on her. She felt the brunette's hand dive into her hair to untie the red band that held her pink locks. The strands fell slightly in front of her face, accentuating her wildness in the eyes of the dark-haired man.
"Could you tie my hair, please? It bothers me while running," requested Madara in a deep voice.
With a slight blush, Sakura took the red band from Madara's hands. She set about creating a high ponytail for Madara. However, he remained impassive, towering over her by two heads in height. Sakura tiptoed to reach his hair.
Her face was now just a few centimeters from his while she carried out her task, and Madara took the opportunity to smell her scent again. He closed his eyes, savoring this enveloping sensation.
Of course, this gesture did not go unnoticed by Sakura, who saw her own blush intensify even more when she discovered Madara's fully exposed face.
"Thank you," Madara whispered.
Day 101
Madara silently observed the young woman, who quietly rearranged the main room. Moving furniture with confidence, she set up an imposing easel in the heart of the room, placing two chairs nearby before placing a large sheet on it. Initially, Madara thought it was a painting session, but as soon as he glanced at the monumental sketch taking shape, he understood the more singular nature of their endeavor.
On the sheet was a meticulously drawn arm, its chakra network meticulously detailed. Various annotations dotted the space around.
"Is this what I think it is, Sakura-san?" inquired Madara as he approached.
"Yes, I've reached a sufficient level in my technique to begin the reconstruction of your Tenketsu," confirmed Sakura, adding an additional piece of furniture next to her chair. She placed a necessary Fûinjutsu kit, a container of water, and a folded towel on it.
"I presume this is going to be painful."
"I'm afraid so, but it will be different from the pain in your back. It will be similar to a tattoo, but with increased intensity... at least, I hope so," confirmed Sakura as she meticulously arranged her equipment.
She approached Madara, sliding her hands with delicate assurance along his sides. Under his tunic, she carefully lifted, freeing his flesh from the fabric. For Madara, every gesture was a caress that inflicted a sweet torture on him. Once undressed, he thought only of responding to his repressed urges for over three months. The woman in front of him completely threw him into the abyss of passion.
"Sit," ordered Sakura, unaware of the impact she had on the brunet.
She took her place next to Madara, grabbing his left arm still in stasis thanks to the Fûinjutsu network she had previously deployed. Casting a final glance at her notes, she infused chakra into her fingertips before delicately applying it to her patient's deltoid.
The pain followed, sharp, concentrated at a specific point, reminiscent of the one he had already endured in his back. Sakura, lacking Naruto Uzumaki's prodigious regeneration ability, was forced to opt for a more methodical approach. This method involved delicate nerve manipulation to reconstruct the main Tenketsu. Guided by the blood circulation, the numerous burn marks inside Madara's arm became her landmarks. She precisely selected two cells, isolating them from the others before initiating an accelerated mitosis process. For nearly two minutes, she released her own chakra, delicately exploiting the physical energy contained in Madara's cells.
"There, the first Tenketsu is intact," Sakura said after a moment, triggering a sigh of relief from Madara, who had maintained palpable tension throughout the process.
She had succeeded where no one had before: regeneration.
"Is this going to take time?" Madara asked, slowly catching his breath. Enduring this pain for each Tenketsu seemed like a colossal challenge.
"Unfortunately, yes."
"How many Tenketsu make up an arm?" Madara asked. He had to mentally prepare for a series of pains if each point required so much effort.
"More than a hundred... Here I go again!" declared Sakura, injecting her chakra into Madara's arm once again, causing a new tensing.
"Why such pain?" Madara asked, although far from being considered fragile, the pain was of an unexpected intensity. Sakura, focused on her task, did not respond immediately. Once the second Tenketsu was in place, she consented to explain.
"Because I'm stimulating your nerves. That's why the closure of Tenketsu by the Hyûga with their Gentle Fist technique is also painful."
Sakura took a sponge, wet it, then wrung it out before erasing some symbols from Madara's arm. It was crucial to avoid any conflict between her seals and the new Tenketsu.
"How do you know about the Gentle Fist of the Hyûga clan?" Madara asked, showing his surprise. After all, the Hyûga clan was as secretive as the Uchiha clan.
"I had the opportunity to encounter one in the past... get ready."
"Humrfff," grunted Madara, feeling that intense pain again. It was as if his arm was being heated to white-hot at a single point, the temperature gradually increasing.
"Release."
"How did you survive an encounter with a Hyûga?" Madara asked, well aware of the power of this clan. From what he had observed, Sakura seemed to be a specialist in Taijutsu and Fûinjutsu, accompanied by some Ninjutsu techniques. Almost no one dared to approach a Hyûga, unless they sought death.
"It was a long time ago, and without my Sensei, I would have had serious problems," lied Sakura, unable to reveal that she had grown up alongside a princess of the Hyûga clan as a friend. But I know what it's like to endure one of their attacks.
Sakura gradually realized that she might be revealing a little too much detail about her past. Was it due to the emergence of a budding trust in this man? Did she, deep down, have the desire to one day share her true identity? She was well aware that at some point, she might let something compromising slip. With Madara's insight, it would undoubtedly arouse suspicions, or worse, he might make insightful deductions. Facing someone who had caught you red-handed in manipulation was undoubtedly an extremely risky undertaking.
"Madara-san..."
"Yes, Sakura-san?" questioned the shinobi, observing Sakura interrupt her work and lower her eyes.
"Why do you ask me all these questions? I know we are shinobi, and information is vital, but what is the reason for your great curiosity about me?" Sakura asked, seeking to penetrate the deep motivations of the great Madara.
"Let's say that... you pique my curiosity."
"In what way?" insisted Sakura, seeing Madara delve into his thoughts. He seemed to be searching for his words.
"Do you know how frustrating it can be to see the teachings of a lifetime thrown away because you encounter the exception to the rule? I'm in that situation, Sakura-san. You're a woman! One might expect you to be a weak person, incapable of handling a weapon, someone who would simply be asked to be beautiful and be silent. But instead, this person who should be useless saved me from the clutches of death, healed me, and contributed to the recovery of the use of my body. This same woman can break a cliff and fight like a shinobi. So, I'm certainly not sorry to be curious about someone like you."
After such a speech, Madara averted his gaze to conceal his embarrassment, sparing him from noticing the blush that was spreading across Sakura's face.
"Have you never had someone in your life, Madara-san?" asked Sakura while preparing the next Tenketsu. She prioritized those close to the arteries before considering those in the vicinity.
"Hm," the patient moaned slightly as he felt his Tenketsu reforming under the skillful hands of the young woman. "I've had many conquests, if that's what you're asking."
"I'm not talking about prostitutes or courtesans."
"I don't believe in that... thing you women call love."
"Why? It's one of the most beautiful things life has to offer," retorted Sakura with incomprehension.
"Because it weakens you! A man must embody strength! A clan leader must remain unshakable, crushing his enemies relentlessly! The survival of the clan is at stake, as is the honor of my family. If I falter, my opponents will take advantage! That's what that infamous Hashirama accomplished! Through my own weakness, my clan submitted to the Senju!" exclaimed Madara, carried away by a persistent pain that had been gnawing at him for nearly a quarter of an hour. "So no, I have no need for that love that could become a weapon directed against me!"
After this outburst of anger, Madara freed himself from Sakura's embrace before straightening up. He headed outside to regain his composure. The subject was painful for him: revisiting all the mistakes made out of weakness. All this because of a truce concluded with the Senju clan.
He leaned against the door frame, gazing at the distant valley. He had never been so tormented by doubt. Since his defeat against Hashirama Senju, his life had been disrupted, his worldview shaken, his perception of beings altered, and all of this instilled in him a deep fear. He feared going astray, making mistakes that could cause more harm to his clan. For one of the rare times in his life, he felt the desire to cry. To cry out of rage, hatred, because of his own vulnerability.
Madara was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't notice the young woman approaching. Only the touch of her hand on his made him pay attention to her presence. She stood in front of him, her face expressing intense emotional charge.
"Madara-san... you are not weak," Sakura murmured, caressing Madara's hand with her thumb. "One day, my sensei shared a phrase with me, forever engraved in my memory," revealed Sakura as she observed Madara, still immersed in distress. "A ninja who abandons his mission is little more than refuse, but those who turn their backs on their comrades are even more contemptible than garbage."
Sakura let a few precious seconds pass, ensuring that her words penetrated Madara's tormented mind before continuing.
"You have experienced failure, Madara-san, but you never gave up on your family, your clan. You fought for them, for their integrity, for their freedom..."
"Sakura-san..."
"Allow me to finish, please," declared Sakura before placing her second hand on Madara's face, prompting him to meet her gaze. "What you have done for your clan is a demonstration of love. You fought out of love for your family, and it is this strength that animated you. In my eyes, that makes you a strong, not weak, individual... because on that fateful day at the Valley of the End, you fought for others, not for your personal interests."
Madara slid his valid hand over Sakura's, tenderly placed on his cheek. He savored this warm contact on his skin, as if he was finally understood for the first time in his life. He felt like an open book in front of this woman, bewildered about how to react to this unexpected closeness.
"I hope with all my heart that one day, you will meet someone who will give you the strength to persevere on this path... because it is the love for your family that has shaped the man you are, Madara-san. Have no shame for the man you are," Sakura concluded, amazed by her own words.
When you meet her, you'll understand, my son. Madara's mother's voice echoed tirelessly in his mind as he gazed at Sakura before him.
"Thank you, Sakura-san."
While still holding Sakura's hand, he returned to their initial position. Once the young woman settled back by his side, she resumed her Iryō Ninjutsu work.
The next hour passed in silence, only disturbed by the groans of pain emanating from Madara. After sixty minutes, the young man's breathing became erratic, his body experiencing slight tremors under the persistent pressure.
"For today, that's enough. The Tenketsu network on the main artery is restored. Lie down, Madara-san, I will fetch something to ease the pain."
Madara gratefully slipped between the sheets of his bed, welcoming rest with obvious eagerness. Exhaustion weighed on his shoulders, and his sole desire at this precise moment was to plunge into the abyss of unconsciousness. Barely settled, Sakura reappeared, carrying a glass of water and a small sachet of medicinal herbs. She poured the benefits of the herb into Madara's mouth, handed him the glass of water to quench his thirst.
"Sleep now," murmured Sakura, gently placing her fingers on Madara's temple, invoking the soothing power of her chakra to send him into the realm of sleep.
Lost in her thoughts, Sakura wondered what was happening to her. An urgent need to help Madara invaded her, but the source of this impulse remained elusive. Was it because he showed her a certain trust, or because, for the first time, Madara shared his troubles with someone? Or perhaps it was his honorable nature that ignited this feeling in her? Sakura, bewildered, couldn't decipher this emotion, perhaps out of fear of what she might discover within herself.
Although she denied it, Sakura wasn't naive. She sensed the attraction she felt towards him, appreciating his compliments on her beauty, detecting his discreet gaze. It was an undeniable strangeness, but a strangeness that she liked. Before she could ponder further, her friend's voice was heard from outside, interrupting the flow of her thoughts.
"Sakura-san!" exclaimed Hitomi as she approached the house.
Sakura covered Madara with the sheet up to his waist before finally emerging to greet her friend. Draped in a blue-gray robe, worn three-quarters and faded, she wore a contrastingly off-white top with her long black hair.
"Hello, Hitomi-san," Sakura exclaimed with a big smile at the sight of her friend.
"Hello!" replied Hitomi as she walked towards Sakura to embrace her. For Sakura, having someone behave like this towards her was a life-saving buoy. Having lost everything, re-establishing connections prevented her from sinking into madness. Although she would have liked to share her burden, Hitomi could not grasp the extent of her secret.
"What brings you here?" asked Sakura, separating from the brunette.
"Just the pleasure of seeing you," replied Hitomi with a mischievous smile.
"I don't like that smile, Hitomi-san."
"We haven't been able to talk since that fateful day in the village when you and the..." Hitomi began to say, suddenly whispering as she covered her mouth with her hand. "And the magnificent Uchiha-sama, if you catch my drift."
A slight blush appeared on Sakura's cheeks at this comment.
"I absolutely have no idea what you're talking about," Sakura pretended before opening the kitchen door and inviting her friend to follow.
"Is Uchiha-sama here?"
"He's currently sleeping," Sakura replied before taking a tea set and placing it on the table. "As usual, Hitomi?"
"Yes."
She regularly came to visit her friend to chat and, most importantly, to prevent her from feeling too lonely. As always, she observed the young woman preparing tea using her magic. Filling the teapot with water, she placed her fingers on a symbol that lit up upon contact, releasing steam from the container after a few seconds.
"How is the village?" asked Sakura, pouring the infused water into two cups.
"The village is doing well. People talk a lot about you and what you accomplished last time."
"Sugar, Hitomi-san?"
A small smile appeared on Sakura's face. She had introduced sugar to Hitomi, a luxury ingredient that few could afford. Without waiting for a response, she spooned a bit of sugar into her cup and handed it to Hitomi.
"You know you don't have to."
"It's nothing to me, and you know that," added Sakura before blowing on her own cup. "I'm sorry, Hitomi. I hope we didn't scare anyone in the village."
"We were all scared... what you both did is miraculous. These are things you only see in tales and legends, and yet...," confessed Hitomi as she recalled the other day. "Anyone would have been afraid, but you protected us and did no harm."
"And you know I would never harm you, Hitomi-san."
"Of course, anyway, my son swears by Uchiha-sama."
"Oh really?"
"It may seem ordinary to you, what you did, but for the children, they saw heroes," recounted Hitomi, who had spent the evening calming her son. "He hadn't stopped talking about the event. Anyway, a large caravan passed by today. They were heading towards the capital and came from Hi no Kuni."
"Really? How significant?"
"Easily about twenty wagons."
Sakura understood that the Daimyō had set things in motion, and the first caravans were returning. He must have followed Madara's advice and engaged in harvesting and purchasing resources in other countries. It would soon be time to visit the Daimyō, and Sakura would inform Madara of this upon his awakening.
"Otherwise, getting back to something more intriguing," Hitomi began with a mischievous smile. "What's going on between you and Mr. Handsome?"
"Absolutely nothing, the young woman retorted a bit too quickly, sipping her tea.
"Except that I am a woman, Sakura. Unlike men who can't see beyond the tip of their noses, I can see signs when I have them in front of me. And I've seen your gaze, Sakura-san... don't forget that I was young once too," said Hitomi, thinking back to her youth. Granted, she was still a beautiful woman for someone over forty, but she couldn't compete with Sakura.
"I admit I don't know myself," Sakura confessed, lowering her eyes. She indeed didn't know herself what she desired.
"What does he mean to you, Sakura?" asked Hitomi, removing the -san suffix due to the more serious conversation.
"I don't know, actually, yes, he helps me forget, but at the same time reminds me of past pains."
"Did you know him from before?"
"It's complicated, Hitomi."
"When you tell me things like that, I feel like I'm hearing one of those stories Mémé Mia used to tell me about forbidden love between two people, because everything opposed them," Hitomi recounted before sipping her tea and savoring that little sweet taste.
"I don't love him, Hitomi," Sakura said emphatically before finally lowering her eyes again and repeating that phrase. Maybe to convince herself. "I don't love him..."
"Saku..."
"Hitomi, please," implored Sakura, who didn't want to face this now. "I... I'm not ready for this."
"I apologize, Sakura," apologized Hitomi, realizing that she might have crossed a line. She might be her friend, but she knew practically nothing about this woman, even less about her past life. For a woman to be so strong and competent, she must have suffered in her previous life. "I'll leave you, Sakura. When you're ready to talk about it, let me know. I only want to see you happy, Sakura."
"Thank you, Hitomi."
Hitomi headed towards the exit after finishing her tea, put on her shoes, and turned around one last time before leaving.
"Take care of yourself, Sakura, and know that you too deserve happiness."