Day 130
Deep within the secret folds of every Shinobi resides an immutable creed: tireless training, a perpetual quest embraced with fervor. It is there, in the arcane of discipline, that the warrior's soul immerses itself to sculpt its essence, both physical and mental. Challenging the boundaries of one's being, transcending the limits of the flesh, so that when breath grows short and energies wane, responsiveness remains unaltered. For in the harsh reality of prolonged confrontations, where the reservoir of chakra dwindles and weapons reduce to scattered artifacts, only the mind, adorned with its keen intelligence, guides the path to survival. Thus the Shinobi forges their being until every reaction is instinctive, their eyes deciphering what the ordinary mortal could not perceive, their vision anticipating the spasms of the forthcoming adversary.
Training does not solely reside within the contours of flesh, although muscle memory is a faithful ally in this macabre dance. It is in the labyrinth of the mind that the true utility of this relentless exercise is fashioned. Visual memory then becomes the shield against projectiles, the mirror reflecting the subtleties of the enemy's style, shaping the counterattack. Every drop of sweat shed, every moment of relentless toil aims at one singular purpose: to shorten the enemy's life to prolong one's own!
For in the ultimate embrace of death, all ambition evaporates. Thus did Madara harden himself, like a rock battered by the waves, his entire life dedicated to this infinite work. For him, perfection was an endless quest, an unending dance with destiny itself.
Under Sakura's vigilant gaze, they had been training for several hours already. Their initial steps were timid, faltering, with warm-up exercises gradually sliding into unparalleled physical intensity, an exploration of the body's limits, devoid of the imprint of chakra, as ordinary mortals engage in.
Madara, whose entire life had been shaped by combat and training, now found himself facing a force as unyielding as his own, if not more. In Sakura Haruno resided the very essence of demand pushed to its zenith. She discerned the threshold of pain, stopping just before it became harmful, but also knew how to navigate through movements and positions that strained her muscles more intensely than her usual routines. The pain was undeniable, but Madara clearly perceived that his body reacted with tripled intensity, if not more, under Sakura's guidance. Her anatomical expertise proved to be a valuable asset in his development.
Initially, during their runs, she had accommodated his pace, compassionate towards his recent convalescence. But those times of leniency were now over. A series of squats interrupted by planking exercises, a seamless transition to abdominal workouts; unorthodox methods, to be sure, but they engaged every fiber of his being, preparing him for all trials to come.
However, what irritated Madara above all during these sessions was this glaring sense of inferiority compared to Sakura. With each push-up, she descended lower, using only one arm where he used two. They lifted rocks, holding them at arm's length, and Sakura's seemed to weigh twice as much as his! Every exercise, she outperformed him, be it in posture, strength, flexibility, agility, or even with her smug smiles and cutting remarks, further exacerbating his frustration.
Sakura had discerned in Madara an unyielding pride, and what better way to stimulate such a temperament than to remind him of his vulnerability? A strategy that undoubtedly pushed Madara to surpass himself, but at the cost of a sly blow to his esteem.
"I bet I can hold out longer than you, Madara-san," teased Sakura, in a planking position, while Madara stood facing her. Both were drenched in sweat, marked by exertion.
"We'll see," growled Madara in return, his gaze full of determination.
Training sessions often revolved around this game of tacit challenges, fueled by their heightened rivalry. Yet, this partly resulted from Madara's physical condition, having to relearn the basics after days of forced immobility. Still, he could not deny the evidence: some of Sakura's skills, like her strength and flexibility, remained out of reach for him. At times, she even surprised him, leaving Madara dumbfounded by her demonstrations.
Then came the aspect of chakra training.
Due to a persistent injury in his left arm, Madara was constrained from using his chakra. Physical exercises were allowed, but any energy manipulation was forbidden.
He began the tree-climbing exercise using chakra. Compared to their previous journey where he only had to propel himself with a simple burst, this time he had to sustain the energy. Yet, the climb seemed easy, almost instinctive. The flow of chakra naturally ran from his legs to his feet, aiding him in ascending the tree effortlessly. When he found himself upside down, he observed Sakura, an enigmatic smile playing on her lips, giving this trial a peculiar character.
"Here are the rules of the game, Madara-san," announced Sakura determinedly, brandishing a few kunai she had retrieved. She also picked up a nearby stone. "No blocking the projectiles. You must only dodge them, but..."
"But?" pressed Madara, watching as the young woman tossed the stone in the air, catching it repeatedly.
"You're not allowed to move your feet from their current position! If you manage to do so, I'll agree to answer one of your questions, any question," Sakura declared, knowing full well that Madara would do anything to seize this opportunity. And she was not mistaken, for a glimmer of pure determination lit up his face.
Sakura threw her stone near Madara, but she infused her gesture with chakra, making dodging the stone nearly impossible. A resounding crash was heard behind Madara, who swiftly pivoted. The stone had pierced a tree trunk behind him, and his eyes widened slightly. This woman was pure madness.
"Ready?" asked Sakura, hurling a series of stones.
And Madara strove to evade everything. The young Shinobi proved to be a completely unpredictable opponent, but fortunately for him, his experience afforded him some foresight. She launched projectiles at varying intensities, from different angles, sometimes in bursts, forcing him into occasionally absurd postures.
"She's purely sadistic!" grumbled Madara to himself after half an hour of relentless dodging. He was drenched in sweat, but he consoled himself by using his chakra to sustain his physical endurance. Occasionally, he activated his Sharingan for a fraction of a second to anticipate the trajectory of the projectiles.
After a while, Sakura seemed to run out of ammunition, and Madara thought he had potentially won the match. A slight smile stretched his lips, quickly dissipating when he saw Sakura grab a rock as massive as himself before hurling it in his direction.
"What a cunning woman!" cursed Madara upon seeing the rock. He realized that Sakura had no intention of letting him win. This cliff fragment was not dodgeable, meant to make him fail. It was too massive, even adopting an acrobatic posture, he would be hit. But Sakura underestimated Madara, especially when his determination was at its peak!
The Uchiha clan leader quickly channeled wind chakra into his right hand, making it as sharp as a blade. With a swift motion, he struck the branch to which he had been clinging from the start. Under the force of his blow, the branch gave way and fell, taking Madara with it. As he fell towards the ground, he saw the rock pass just above where he had been. When he touched the ground, he rolled to cushion his fall. A resounding crash was heard, a sign that the rock had just shattered against an obstacle.
Madara approached Sakura, who did not seem pleased with his success. With an arrogant smile, he stood in front of her. It was his first victory over the young woman since the beginning of their training, and he intended to savor every moment of it. Sakura crossed her arms, looking away in annoyance. With a familiar gesture, Madara lifted her chin, a gesture he had grown accustomed to lately.
"Even if your pout is most adorable... you owe me an answer!" he declared, a smile on his lips.
"Humph... fine... but the training isn't over!" grumbled Sakura.
Then, without warning, she started running again. Was she obsessed with hard work, or had her mentors been true tyrants, accustomed her to such intensity? Whatever the case, Madara wasn't one to complain, especially when it came to training. They left Sakura's garden to venture into the valley, greeting the busy inhabitants in the rice fields along the way.
After a while, they reached the bottom of the valley where a lake nestled. Arriving at the shore, Sakura didn't slow down, channeling her chakra under her feet to run on the water, closely followed by Madara.
"How do you feel?" she asked, turning to the Uchiha.
"I feel fine," replied Madara immediately, although his body trembled slightly after the imposed exercises, which Sakura noticed without difficulty.
"When you constantly channel your chakra into your feet, do you feel every muscle react?" Sakura inquired.
"What do you mean?" asked Madara, perplexed.
"When you focus on your meridians, do you feel your energy flow through your body?" Sakura explained differently.
"Yes," nodded Madara.
"Our chakra is intimately linked to our circulatory system and muscles. I want you to focus on your legs," Sakura requested before watching Madara close his eyes and immerse himself in meditation.
"For our muscles to function at full capacity, they require an energy source provided by the food we ingest daily. However, as emphasized by a prominent scholar, 'nothing is lost, nothing is created, everything is transformed,'" Sakura stated as Madara remained fully focused. "Our muscles are no exception to this fundamental rule. The energy they expend transforms into waste... That's why your body seems restless at the moment, your muscles almost nearing exhaustion."
"I'm not..."
"Weak! I know, Madara-san!" Sakura anticipated, now well acquainted with the Uchiha. "Nevertheless, to counteract this, we Shinobi learn to support our muscles with our chakra, thus slowing down the process. But in my opinion, it's an unnecessary chakra expenditure!"
"What do you propose then?" asked Madara, accustomed to following this practice his entire life, much like those he knew.
"You simply need to use a small amount of chakra to flush out the waste produced by your muscles. This way, you save energy and always remain physically at a hundred percent," explained Sakura, who, thanks to Tsunade, had discovered this new combat method.
"Interesting, indeed," Madara conceded, easily grasping Sakura's explanations. For the average mind, understanding would have been challenging, but Madara was anything but ordinary: a virtuoso in his own right, he possessed exceptional intelligence, coupled with an innate ability to assimilate and analyze data. Following the wise advice of the young woman, he infused his muscles with chakra, purifying them of any impurities. Soon, an improvement was felt, his muscle tremors dissipating as a wave of relief washed over him.
"Chakra is a prodigious force, capable of accomplishing wonders... Strengthening our muscles, supporting them, regulating our body temperature, and many other feats," acknowledged the young woman, still standing in the middle of the lake.
"Would I be able to increase the amount of my chakra?" Madara suddenly inquired.
A heavy silence followed Madara's question, as addressing this topic would involve discussing the Eight Gates: the mysterious celestial gates within the human body. After a moment of reflection, Sakura decided to shed light on this thorny subject.
"Yes, refocus on your chakra, but this time, pay attention to its source. Do you perceive it?" guided Sakura.
"Hai, I sense it emanating from several points in my body," confirmed Madara, distinctly perceiving the flow from eight centers.
"These chakra focal points are what I call gates. Our system is governed by these energy points," explained Sakura, carefully observing the brunette manipulate the flow of his energy.
"Can these sources be amplified?" asked Madara, showing keen interest.
"Yes... Opening these gates multiplies the flow of chakra throughout the body, allowing the user to access immense physical strength and transcend the limits of their body," Sakura elaborated, recalling the feat of Might Guy and Rock Lee during the Fourth Great Shinobi War against Madara.
"But there's always a 'but'..." Madara understood, reopening his eyes.
"Indeed, there is a downside to the medal. The user must face a backlash manifested in the form of extreme fatigue and exhaustion. Moreover, inadequate mastery of opening the gates can lead to the user's death," Sakura replied, recalling the situation of Might Guy, still in a wheelchair two years after opening the Eight Celestial Gates.
"You have witnessed their use before, haven't you?" Madara asked, discerning confirmation of his suspicions in Sakura's gaze.
"Is that your question, Madara-san?" Sakura inquired.
After a brief moment of consideration, Madara wondered if he truly wished to receive an answer to this question, when the answer was already evident.
"No," he simply replied.
"Very well," Sakura finally cut in before assuming a Taijutsu stance, to the astonished gaze of the Uchiha. Her right hand extended forward, she gestured for the brunette to approach. "Show me what the legendary Uchiha Madara is capable of!"
Madara hated war; his nature yearned for tranquility, but a lifetime of training, confrontation, battles, and conflicts eventually forged an unexpected affinity: a passion for combat. Thus, it was with a smile on his lips that the Uchiha launched himself towards the young woman, seeking after so much time to assess her skills.
In a lightning dance, Madara surged forward.
Equally swift, Sakura turned on her heels, adeptly deflecting, her hands moving to counter one, two, three, four precise kicks aimed at her chest. Barely landing on the ground, Madara skillfully dodged the punch directed at his face, leaning his torso backward. His Shinobi eye quickly discerned Sakura's next maneuver, her leg extended to unbalance him. Taking advantage of the momentum of his dodge, Madara executed a backward somersault, accompanied by two sharp kicks to Sakura's chest, pushing her back from the impact force.
Regaining her balance on the ground, Madara channeled chakra into his feet to cushion his fall. Utilizing the accumulated energy in his legs, he quickly closed the distance between them. His right arm reached for Sakura's face, but she skillfully deflected it downward. Without wasting time, Madara capitalized on the momentum of his movement and that of the young woman, placing his hands on the ground to perform an acrobatic wheel. His first foot was blocked, but the second reached Sakura's cheek with lightning force, propelling her in shock.
She cursed Madara and the martial philosophy of the Uchiha clan, focusing on exploiting the opponent's strength and the power of counterattacks. Without hesitation, Sakura launched her counterattack, aiming again at the Uchiha's head, who once more dodged with disconcerting agility. Determined to thwart his acrobatics, she this time struck his thigh with her other fist. Forced to stay on the ground, Madara used his free leg to retaliate, his blow aiming for Sakura's face, who bent down while flexing her limbs. In a crouched position, she mobilized the strength of her legs to launch her fist towards Madara's chin, hoping to reach him with a sharp uppercut.
"Cursed Sharingan!" she roared internally, noticing a split second where the cursed eye activated, allowing Madara to dodge her hook. Nevertheless, she took advantage of the momentum to jump in the air and project both feet towards Madara's chest, pushing him back by a meter. Without wasting a moment, Madara countered by aiming again for Sakura's upper body, but she skillfully evaded. Foiling his expectations, she slipped into his guard and delivered a powerful blow to his right pectoral. Madara, seeing the second right fist coming towards his stomach, decided to face it head-on. The clash between their fists was brutal, and he immediately realized his mistake. She was stronger than him, and the vibration from the blow ran through his arm.
Without dwelling on the pain, Madara seized the opportunity of their proximity to unleash a series of blows: one to Sakura's stomach, followed by another to her chest, then a quick one to her left forearm, followed by a blow to the triceps before concluding with a knee to her stomach. The blow sent her toppling forward, ready to continue, but Sakura, seizing his right wrist, delivered a chakra-charged blow to his chest, propelling him several meters away.
Catching her breath, Sakura realized in an instant that in this swift and intense exchange, Madara clearly surpassed her in pure taijutsu. If she could fully utilize her chakra, she would be a formidable opponent, but for now, in this friendly bout where only raw skill was tested, he had the upper hand. Despite all her speed and agility, he was undeniably her superior.
As the brunette performed a somersault to cushion his fall, Sakura adeptly applied her Medical Ninjutsu to his stomach. The previous blow had been unexpectedly violent, leaving an unpleasant burning sensation in its wake.
Madara approached the young woman with a calm step. He had relished this fight, every exchange of blows, every pulse of adrenaline coursing through his body, his senses sharpened by the dance of combat. Although the confrontation had not lasted long, it had allowed Madara to grasp certain truths about this woman: she was formidable, and underestimating her power would be a grave mistake.
While he had dominated the confrontation, Madara eagerly awaited the day when Sakura would fully unleash herself, using all the resources of a true Shinobi: weapons, Ninjutsu, Taijutsu, Genjutsu, Fūinjutsu.
"Are you alright, Sakura-san?" Madara asked, slightly concerned as he saw her healing herself.
"Yes, your last blow was rather brutal," Sakura replied, covering her stomach protectively under her red top.
"And what about your last attack..."
"That'll teach you to cheat with your Sharingan," Sakura retorted with a teasing smile.
"I absolutely have no idea what you're talking about," Madara replied, feigning innocence with a smirk. Sakura lightly tapped his shoulder for his cheating, a gesture that, far from being aggressive, was rather... friendly.
"Alright, that's enough for today, Madara-san," declared Sakura, wearing a mischievous smile. "No pain to report?"
"My right arm, you really pack a punch," Madara remarked as the young woman applied her Medical Ninjutsu to detect any injuries.
"I warned you never to play strength against me," Sakura retorted, quickly identifying the problem.
"Hn!"
Meanwhile, the villagers who were busy in the rice fields had interrupted their work to observe the two Shinobi battling. It was both fascinating and terrifying. To see someone walking on water, fighting with such ease, striking with such power... It was like watching an insect challenge the moon.
"When I grow up, I want to be like Lord-sama!" exclaimed a young boy as he watched the two protagonists move on the water.
"Well, I want to be like Sakura-sama!" added a little girl with blonde hair.
"But she's not as strong as Lord-sama," the boy countered.
"False! Did you see how Sakura-sama pushed Lord-sama away from her?" retorted the girl.
The two children's eyes sparkled with admiration as they watched the two Shinobi disappear from their field of vision.
The day stretched peacefully for the villagers, a tranquil succession of daily activities as twilight embraced the horizon.
After a refreshing wash, the two protagonists lit the candles scattered throughout their home, a prelude to the impending night. Sakura, with a fluid motion, put a vinyl record on the gramophone, while the enticing aroma of dinner filled the air. Clad in white pants, she had chosen a turquoise pullover that caressed her bare shoulders, a nod to the autumn unfolding in its shimmering hues as the mercury began its descent.
As for Madara, faithful to his black kimono with the pristine neckline, he took his place at the kitchen counter, a ritual now ingrained. The company of the young Shinobi had become an increasingly comforting source for him. Her sharp mind and propensity for listening bestowed upon her a singular charm, each exchange enriching his experience. Although ignorant in culinary matters, Madara saw little use in indulging himself, accustomed as he was to the presence of a helpful hand to ensure his meals. But Sakura's aura had managed to captivate his interest, and he watched attentively as she demonstrated her culinary prowess, his thoughts wandering to a maternal maxim: It will be difficult for you to think of another woman when you find her.
As Sakura busied herself at the stove, Madara allowed himself to be consumed by his thoughts. He carefully weighed the subjects to broach with the young woman, aware of her reluctance to reveal her past. Although he understood the pain that could be buried there, this reserve frustrated him to no end.
Madara carefully considered his options, groping in the darkness of Sakura's secrets. Should he delve into the origins of her mother to illuminate the shadows of his own understanding? After all, Tsunade Haruno seemed to hail from a distant continent, far from the familiar borders of the elemental nations. Or should he dig deeper, inquire about the identity of her sensei? Someone capable of shaping a Shinobi of Sakura's caliber could not be a stranger, but this strange name, Kakashi, eluded any recognition. Then, like a breach in the wall of mystery...
"I have found my question," announced Madara, breaking the silence and interrupting Sakura's movements, who had hoped the bet would fade into oblivion. But she had made a promise.
"Very well, but I reserve the right to refuse once if the question proves too difficult," stipulated Sakura, determined not to plunge into certain abysses.
"The name of the one who ravaged the beings dear to you," articulated Madara, scrutinizing the pain darkening the young woman's eyes. He did not wish to inflict sorrow, but the need to know, to discover the identity of this impious Uchiha, consumed him. Sakura held his gaze for a few moments, which stretched into a long minute.
"Another question... please," she pleaded, not ready to confront this truth. Faced with Madara, she felt incapable of revealing to him that the assailant was, in fact, himself...
Madara remained silent, allowing himself to be consumed once more by his thoughts, exploring other avenues. Perhaps uncovering the origin of her mastery of the Kage Bunshin would prove an interesting lead. Or her clan affiliation. Or...
"My question is this: where exactly do you come from to seek refuge? And I require a precise and detailed answer!" declared Madara, invoking in his memory his discussion with Hitomi. She had confided in him that Sakura had sought asylum in Ta No Kuni.
Sakura's hands moved with the precision of a surgeon as she delicately sliced the crimson flesh of the tuna, transforming it into thin slices of sashimi. Each piece found its place on the wooden plate, accompanied by a perfectly formed rice ball. With a graceful gesture, she arranged two pairs of chopsticks in the center of the counter before sliding to a nearby cupboard. From there, she retrieved two small glasses and a bottle of pristine white.
As soon as the bottle cap was removed, the room filled with its characteristic fragrance, confirming Madara's suspicions: sake. Pouring with a precision that testified to her habit, Sakura did not let a drop of the precious liquid escape. With an assured motion, she brought the glass to her lips and swallowed its contents in one gulp. A slight grimace touched her delicate features, betraying a sensation both burning and exquisite that tickled her throat.
As Madara brought the glass to his lips, Sakura's intense gaze met his, laden with the weight of a secret to be revealed. At least, that's how Madara interpreted it, while Sakura concocted a plausible lie, intertwined with a fragment of truth.
"I come from Hi No Kuni," Sakura began as Uchiha savored a sip of the drink. It was exquisite, probably the best sake he had ever tasted. A bottle of such quality must be worth a fortune, but it was probably not a concern for Sakura.
"Where exactly?" Madara inquired, dipping his chopsticks in soy sauce before picking up a piece of sashimi.
"About twenty kilometers from the Hi no Tera temple," Sakura continued before also taking a piece of sashimi. "It was a small village, as ordinary as can be. My parents were people in perpetual pursuit of knowledge, traveling constantly to broaden their horizons... But when my mother became pregnant with me, the risks associated with their journeys became too great, and they would have been even more perilous at my birth."
"The war...," remarked Madara as he watched the young woman pour herself a third glass and down it in one gulp.
"Exactly, and having a child during the province wars is not the safest. So my parents decided to settle in a place isolated from the rest of the world. The lands of Hi no Tera were a neutral place respected by all the ninjas. Settling near this place was perfect for my parents," Sakura recounted before standing up to check on the rest of the dinner simmering gently. "But... during their travels, my parents made friends, but also enemies..."
"Your sensei Kakashi was one of them?" asked Madara, finishing his cup of sake.
"Yes, he was a close friend..." Sakura replied, delving back into her memories, recalling the deep bond she shared with Kakashi. They had become inseparable, all four of them: Naruto, Sasuke, Kakashi, and herself. Even hiding in the deepest isolation, they had been found...
"Black Zetsu and that other Uchiha?" asked Madara, already knowing the answer but curious about the name of that Uchiha.
"Yes," murmured Sakura as she picked up the empty wooden plate to place it in the sink. Remaining still, she stared at the sink, plunging her gaze into the abyss of memories of those she had cherished and who had evaporated, letting her tears flow freely. The fatigue, heavy as a secular burden, the half-truths she had to maintain, the implacable destiny pressing on her shoulders, and the lingering pain of loss, all exacerbated by alcohol, eventually overwhelmed her in tumultuous waves.
Madara, rarely given to displays of tenderness or soothing words, felt a strange emotion seeing the young woman tremble with sadness. Without knowing why, he stood up, approached her, and, with an unusual gentleness, turned her to embrace her tenderly... and there, she cried... silently, against his shoulder.
[I sincerely hope you enjoy this story.]