The Clone Gambit

by viridianeye

Sakura manages to stab Obito's Rinnegan when asked, sending the war into chaos anew that prevents Madara from casting the Infinite Tsukuyomi. Everyone's fate depends upon Sakura's game of cat-and-mouse with Madara. With the damaged eye her curse and key, Sakura's forced to push herself and her unexpected allies past their limits. Can she stop it all from ending in Madara's favor?

15. Chapter 15

15

Team Seven strode through the gates of Konoha in silence.

Kakashi led the way forward. Naruto and Sasuke walked on either side of the group, and Obito trailed at the rear, his uncovered eye watchful and sharp. Wind whispered through the trees and drifted through their hair in the late night around them, chilling their grim expressions.

Surrounded, Sakura walked in the middle of the group, her eyes on the ground. Her expression was hidden in falls of pink hair, her posture tight under the unbearable weight of the tension dragging between herself and the others. The breeze made her dark dress ripple slightly around her figure, her boots crunching quietly in the dirt of the road.

The sunny greetings by Kotetsu and Izumo at the gates quickly died as the cloudy gloom of Team Seven hit them in an invisible tide. Kakashi's casual polite wave back at them was brief and only obligatory.

They watched each team member walk past with visible curiosity, their stares digging into each of their backs as they went — Sasuke and Obito ignoring them, Sakura wholly focused on each step forward, with only Naruto offering them an uneasy, thin smile before reasserting his attention to the road. "What's with them?" Izumo whispered to Kotetsu, who shrugged.

It was late in the night, but the sight of the nationally famous group coming down the main road together was still an attraction. Windows lit up along each side of the street; heads poked out windows, doors opening as families stared out in their nighttime robes and sleepwear at each well-known, grim face among Team Seven. With their features as stony as the Hokage cliff carvings, none showed a reaction to their onlookers but for Sakura, who glanced around uneasily before jerking her attention back down to her feet.

Her quick look around had caused both Obito and Sasuke to shift in subtle defensive reactions indicating they had no intention of letting her escape, should she try to. Their eyes honed in upon her were as cutting as their blades.

Curious onlooking eyes fluttered: the situation, unspoken and clearly secretive, was still easy to read. Not only had something serious happened among these famed shinobi, but it had to do with Sakura, and it was clear she was under arrest. Surrounded, she and the team were heading directly towards the Hokage tower, and the confirming image that she was being detained began to grow as silent Anbu shinobi appeared, shadowing the team from a distance with their hidden gazes affixed upon her.

Curious eyes begot whispering mouths, and the rumours began to spread, preceding news already bleeding out into the ranks both civilian and shinobi of the Union event and all that had happened there. Fusing murmurs connected this event with the former, and the bridged understanding that the previously lauded Sakura was being arrested for fraternising with her famed opposition Uchiha Madara was already disseminating among the public.

High up in the Hokage tower, Sasuke's trained messenger-hawk was not the only carrier bird that had arrived with news. The lights were on in Tsunade's office, with various birds with scrolls tied to their legs sweeping in and out of the window frequently. Sasuke lifted his head as he and the team drew nearer to the tower, his distant hawk swooping down and landing on his arm with a familiar chirping sound; he gave it a nod before dismissing it to circle over the trees nearby, its feathers a dull silver in the light of the moon high in the night sky.

Sakura was walking with one hand over her stomach. She tried to take in a deep breath, but could only manage half of one, letting it out in a shallow, shaky exhale.

Just as she shut her eyes, she startled under a touch along her arm. She blinked but didn't turn upon recognising that Naruto was trying to comfort her.

The breeze carried scents of leaf-musk and the dry, cold air as the team arrived at the Hokage tower doors. They were let through without question, their arrival premeditated; several more Anbu shinobi were shadowing the team as they strode through into a dim entryway.

They continued forward in silence, and it wasn't until the quiet, extraordinarily tense whole of Team Seven had ascended to the third floor that Naruto shuffled closer to Sakura's side, murmuring to her in a quick, hurried breath. "Sakura, I'm sorry."

She didn't answer, her gaze sliding over to Sasuke, who was watching them both. She could feel Obito's stare carving into her spine as well.

But she could also sense that Naruto's own anxiety was worsened by her silence, and Sakura finally lifted her gaze to his face. She ignored the ripple of concern across his expression in reaction to the hollow look in her eyes as she spoke. "Don't be."

"It was Naruto that tipped us off," Sasuke commented, and Sakura looked back down at her feet, Naruto's face squeezing with guilt again. He shot a glare at Sasuke before trying again with Sakura, nudging her arm. "I didn't mean to—"

"You should have meant to." Obito's growl echoed through the hallway around them as they made their way towards Tsunade's office. "The moment you learned of what Sakura was doing, you should have reported it. It's only fortunate you brought it to our attention, intentionally or not, before it was too late to turn back and get her."

"Well, I," Naruto shot back, brows twitching in something of an anguished expression, "I didn't know until today, and I wasn't sure…"

"Don't discuss it out here," Kakashi interrupted. He didn't look back, though his warning reminded the others of the Anbu following them in silent, catlike gaits, their eyes glittering behind painted white clay masks.

They stopped before the shut office door. Obito joined Kakashi as he knocked. Sakura turned even paler as her attention lifted to the doors, Tsunade's voice sounding behind it.

She was able to take a deep breath this time as Naruto squeezed her hand. "No matter what," he said as Sakura glanced at him nervously, "I've got your back."

---

It happened so quickly she barely processed it — Team Seven spreading out in the room in a quick reaction to get out of Tsunade's warpath towards Sakura, her bellowed words Sakura had only just began to pick up as she realised she was backed up against a shelf of scrolls with a hand at her throat and Tsunade's piercing eyes shooting through her soul.

She shouted down at where she had Sakura pinned. "—never thought you'd be such a stupid, useless fool! I trusted you. I praised you. I lifted you up all this time and you do something like this?!"

"She's just a clone, Lady Tsunade," Shizune said quietly nearby, causing Tsunade's wrenching grip to unclench slightly around Sakura's neck in last-minute restraint. Sakura's gaze fluttered down until Tsunade reasserted her grip on her with a snarl. "So help you… if you weren't a breakable clone I would have broken every bone you have, you stupid, stupid girl."

Sakura held Tsunade's enraged stare then, her face slightly pinched and nauseously pale. Her teammates stayed well away from Tsunade by the desk as they waited to make their reports, watching her and Sakura with taut grimaces.

Reading among the queasiness in her expression that Sakura had something to say, Tsunade released her throat and stood back with a hiss. "You have one chance to explain, and then I'm going to tell you exactly how thoroughly you've ruined your life. And if you dare lie to me I will make you regret it."

Sakura cleared her throat, and after tucking her hair behind her ears she looked around at the office with visible unease. "Lady Tsunade," she said with a slight crack in her voice, "I will explain it to you, I promise, and I won't disappear until you allow it, but please…"

"You don't get privacy. Not anymore," Tsunade cut Sakura off. She stood tall, folding her arms, and all eyes slid to Sakura with unbearable weight as Tsunade went on coldly. "You will tell me the truth in front of your teammates, just like when all of this mess started." Tsunade gestured sharply at Sakura's dress, at her ruffled appearance, visibly disgusted as her stare darted from ripped clasps and seams to the faint, wiped-away trace of rust-red along her knee. "No matter how sensitive this may be, you don't deserve any privacy. You brought this misfortune down upon yourself, this waste of my trust and your own dignity… your own former purity."

Sakura tried to speak, but her emotions choked her own throat. She covered her face, Tsunade's words like kunai sinking into her. "What a waste. That all my hopes, time, and effort ended in vain like this. I can't believe you let your enemy corrupt and taint you. To willingly give yourself to such a murderous demon as Madara… just how far down his path have you allowed him to take you? How long? How many Konoha secrets has he seduced from you? And how could you betray us… how — could you betray me?"

Tsunade's voice, normally strong and steadfast, had the slightest tremor in her last question. All heads but hers inclined; Team Seven's in somber respect, and Sakura's head hung in deep sorrow. Silence stretched across the dark office, the wind billowing past the windows through cool late-summer night skies.

Sakura swallowed thickly. Taking a deep breath, she managed to unclench her constricted throat enough to find her voice once more, gesticulating vaguely towards the office doors. "Please… can outsiders listen? Is this room sealed?"

"Who are you worried will overhear?" Tsunade growled.

"Madara," Sasuke commented. Naruto frowned, having the same thought; Kakashi cleared his throat. "I doubt he'll pursue us now if he hasn't already. She's only a clone here, after all. I'm sure it would be different if she wasn't."

"No…" Obito was the only one to recognise whom Sakura's discomfiture was for, and he strode towards the doors, dark robes rustling around his slim frame. "Zetsu. It's a valid concern. Either one can manage impressive stealth when needed, and they'll relay everything they learn to Madara and use it against us. Since I know the Zetsus better than any of you… I'll keep watch."

"Good," Tsunade replied, and Obito was gone in a slamming of the double-doors. Sakura relaxed, but only slightly, her eyes flickering back to Tsunade's narrowing gaze.

"The only fortunate part of this entire situation," Tsunade went on, towering over Sakura, "is that you made the decision to leave with your teammates and report to me here. If you had dared to disappear, or gods-forbid remain there with Madara…" Her amber eyes flashed dangerously. "We all would have considered it your official abandonment of Konoha. The stripping of your titles as a kunoichi. The completion of your betrayal of us all."

Sakura nodded, hanging her head. "Yes, Lady Tsunade."

"Now… Sasuke, you wrote me a brief summary of the situation in your hawk's scroll to me," Tsunade said, turning her head to look at him. Sasuke glanced at her, scowling. "Yeah."

"Explain in better detail what happened after your recovery of the research… which is another monstrous issue we will discuss after this."

"Sakura disobeyed Obito's orders to come with us," Sasuke replied, aiming an icy look at Sakura, who was staring dully out the window. "We left anyway. Since she was a clone we didn't consider fighting her on this worthwhile. That is," he went on, his uncovered dark eye shifting to Naruto, "until he let it slip that there's something illicit between her and Madara going on."

"Explain further," Tsunade growled through clenched teeth. Naruto waved his hands with the guilt back in his expression. "I mean, I made lots of jokes before, but I guess, then, she kind of admitted it's true when I got serious talking to her about it. I didn't think their mutual crush was that big of a deal, you know, since she's still fighting for our cause and Madara's all for his still, but then with the event—"

"Mutual?" came Tsunade's incredulous comment before Sasuke cut Naruto off. "Sakura's been acting suspiciously already. Naruto's little unintentional hint let us know why. I led the way back…"

"Insisted on going back to the event against orders, forcing us all to follow in order to protect him," Kakashi interjected sternly, causing Tsunade's eyes to subtly widen. Sasuke shot Kakashi a glare before continuing what he was saying. "And we discovered what we thought was their fighting aftermath. We found the room they were in and saw that he had her on her back, and was—" Sasuke paused, grimacing, his stare shifting back to Sakura. "Well. Our first assumptions were wrong. It was obviously and repulsively mutual… she is more than simply on his side." His grimace deepened. "Tch. Let me be clear — not only did she willingly let Madara have her, but she defended Madara against us when we arrived. She threatened us."

"The Zetsus gave Madara enough warning that he was able to block Sasuke's surprise attack. We disengaged without anyone sustaining injuries," Kakashi added. He shifted uncomfortably where he'd been leaning against the wall, his arms folded and hands digging in over his sleeves, his stressed gaze shifting between each of his students.

"She didn't really threaten us, she was just protective of everyone there. She was right to insist that nobody fight, at least not at that time and place," Naruto argued against what Sasuke had said. Ignoring Sasuke's sharp glance, he watched Sakura with a knot between his brows as he went on. "I helped Sakura stop any fighting on our end, and Madara stood down because of her, so like Kakashi-sensei said, we left without bloodshed. Even though I know Sasuke and Obito would have loved a battle it was the right thing to leave."

Sasuke made an annoyed huff, folding his arms. "If it weren't for Zetsu I could have dealt Madara a serious blow."

"Even with the element of surprise, we wouldn't have won a fight just then. Not without planning in an imprompu, abrupt clash," Kakashi replied with an annoyed twitch about his brows.

"Wait…" Tsunade had been listening with her nails digging into her arms. "What do you mean, Madara stood down?"

"Well, I mean," Naruto tried, "so, obviously Sakura cares about him a lot, which I know is bad. But she also cares about us still, of course, and didn't want any of us fighting." He pushed a hand through his choppy yellow hair with an unsettled look in his shadowed eyes. "But it was clear that Madara wanted to fight more than we did. He was furious that we interrupted what he and Sakura were doing. I guess just like how Sasuke stopped fighting when I asked because he and I are best friends, you know—" Sasuke scoffed, Naruto finishing, "Madara did the same, but just for Sakura, and not because they're best friends, but you know… something else."

Kakashi's contribution was quiet, but his words held a weight that made the tension in the room all the heavier. "I would never have thought Madara would stand down from any battle like that. Perhaps he has manipulated and corrupted Sakura beyond reproach, but it appears she has a kind of power over him as well."

The room fell quiet. Sakura didn't react to each stare flicking questioningly over to her; she continued to watch the moon, rising high above the Hokage tower. Its light was just able to reach her through the panes, painting her a silvery white and cutting her with a high contrast of jagged shadow.

"I find that very hard to believe." Tsunade shook her head. "I'll take the rest of your reports on file. If I have questions I'll call you back in here. For now, assist Obito in guarding this tower and watching for either Zetsu or Madara. They're just too unpredictable; we can't assume they won't initiate an attack."

"Of course," Kakashi answered for the three of them, and he led them quickly out of the room as Tsunade turned back towards Sakura, her hands clenching in and out of fists. "Shizune, you too," she said quietly, and Shizune exited with a polite nod, hurrying out with a clipboard hugged against her chest.

Sakura lifted her head and looked over at Tsunade. She was calmer, her breathing more even, though her fists were so white from how tightly she held them that there were pricks of blood along her palms.

"Lady Tsunade." She held herself tall, a flash of strength and undying courage beneath the turmoil in her moonlit eyes. "I know my first mission is over now. I know I can't ask for your forgiveness, but before you make me dismiss all my remaining clones, and before you ask me where my original has hidden…"

Tsunade turned to face her fully, her eyes narrowing. Sakura's green stare burned brightly, her words steadier than before over her visible sense of resolve. "We need to talk about my third mission."

---

"Do not attempt to use your scouts' successes as a mask for your failures." Madara leaned forward, his jagged white hair falling in sharp locks around his glowing, narrowed eyes. "I hope you are not so stupid as to think your high-ranking title would spare you from earning my irritation."

"I deeply apologise, Lord Saviour Uchiha." Hayashi bowed until his forehead was touching the floor. Charcoal-black armour in the same style Madara himself used to wear fell in plates down the his shoulders, front, and back; the Rinnegan symbol that served as the Union's main signifier was branded along the high metal collar of the armour but in blood-red rather than the former lavender. Deep teal robes bound tightly beneath the black armour was also in the traditional, practical and functional rather than decorative style, a change Madara had commanded as part of the new reform.

"I had simply thought it wise to begin with what we accomplished rather than where we failed," Hayashi went on, "I wasn't intentionally hiding anything from you. I would never do that… I swear it."

"It has been three months since I assumed command and gave you these responsibilities." Madara's growl rumbled forward, causing Hayashi and the two figures bowed next to him to shiver subtly in reaction. Behind where they bent in respectful positions, groups of lined-up armoured scouts lined the walls and peered in from the distant hallway doors, staring at Madara when they dared with looks of awe.

"I expected the paltry achievements you've managed in such a generous timeframe, but not such repeated failures of the most important task assigned to you." Madara's gaze narrowed upon Hayashi.

"We're doing everything we possibly can," Hayashi tried, his voice caught between frustrated and pleading, his head still tilted against the floor in apology and respect. Brown hair pooled in straight locks around his clenched, sweat-pearled expression. "I have a hundred scouts embedded in every direction. Searching… hunting… investigating. I have them questioning every villager, shinobi, child, rogue, criminal — no stone is going unturned." Murmurs in the back between some of the mentioned scouts expressed their agreement with his words, their frustrations with their impossible task carefully hidden.

"And yet, you still haven't found her."

"No." Hayashi trembled, managing to hunch a little deeper into himself. "No. I'm sorry."

Madara leaned back upon his stony throne, high in the vaulted hall; he glared down at the bowed head of the man he'd appointed as one of the main trio of leaders over the reformed scout faction. It was atypical that any of the three disappointed him: the very reason he'd appointed them with such responsibilities was rooted in how well they performed during the original cultist purge, three months previously. Their fighting skills, survivability, strength, adaptability, and intelligence were only some of the traits he valued that they had shown, and his disappointment in their failure in this assigned mission was increasingly rankling.

Madara glared down at the three of them. It mattered little to him that hunting Sakura down was a task even he himself could not accomplish thus far these past months. Should Hayashi, Sasaki and Isamu continue to fail, he could and would easily clean out and replace their roles. He tapped his fingers along his seat as he decided how much longer of a grace period he might grant them before they met their ends.

The room around Madara was quiet but for the rustling sounds of uneasy Union members, exchanging soft whispers while waiting for his next commands. His ire could be felt by all, causing a tension to spread, though the adoration they regarded him with never faltered. Madara had every essence and appearance of a powerful leader, not only of a large organisation, but as if he led the nation itself; the hushed respect and fearful adoration of all of his current onlookers was tangible in every passing moment, shivering through every figure bowed or standing.

Madara cooly ignored the vibe of tense awe in the air, thoroughly used to the curious, fascinated eyes of others.

"If I may speak." The second figure that had been bowed at the captain's side spoke with her head bowed; deep black locks of wavy hair fell around her hidden face. Madara hummed in irked assent; she inclined her head a little further. "Captain Hayashi and I can report that we have successfully executed and completed the last of your given missions as of this morning. All should be ready for our ranks to move forward with the next part of your plan." She lifted her head slightly, her shadowed violet eyes sliding over to Madara's black boots in respectful avoidance of his eyes. Beside her, Isamu let out a restrained sigh in preemptive relief that she had changed the subject.

Madara tilted his head slightly, unimpressed by her report. "Every main route? Every village? You had better not be generalising in order to hide a missed detail. I expect executed and completed to mean exactly that, Sasaki."

"Yes, Lord Madara. I have already left our full written report in your office as well as all the newest requests from the lower factions that I deemed worth your attention. Additionally…" Sasaki lifted her head, and she let her eyes rise to stop as high as Madara's folded arms. "I may have a lead on the mission that Hayashi, Isamu and myself have yet to succeed in."

With the intensified weight of Madara's attention, she shifted slightly, unease visible in her taut posture, though her expression was calm. She tilted her head, her black hair falling back over her features. "I cannot report real success yet. It is but a hint, perhaps just an instinct, south of Konohagakure. I intend to give you my full report on it soon after I investigate to make sure that it is real."

"You remember what I expect, should you have success." Madara's deep rumble had Sasaki bowing her head once more with a subtle shiver, Isamu and Hayashi hunching a little more with restrained fear of Madara in turn. "Yes, of course—"

"Do not attack. You are unlikely to succeed, no matter your proffered skills, Isamu, or you, Hayashi, Sasaki. You will use the lamentably rare talents of persuasion through language rather than violence; and I expect that she will not resist, once you are clear about where you will be leading her."

"Yes, sir."

"If she does refuse, then one of you report to me, should I not already be aware of the altercation; I will come myself. The other two remain on her tail until I arrive."

Isamu, Hayashi and Sasaki spoke in unison now, three heads bowed in reverence. "Yes, sir."

"You may leave. Go prepare with your comrades for tomorrow evening. Isamu, Sasaki." They lifted their heads, their eyes remaining low in their twitching, controlled expressions, absorbing Madara's words with restrained tension. Dusk hair shifted over Isamu's heart-shaped face, his gloved hands subtly digging into his knees beside his black armour.

"I expect both you and your squad to execute your assignment tomorrow flawlessly. I am sure I do not need to emphasise the importance that you do it well."

The three of them bowed once more in obedient assent. Each rose at once, turning together in neat unison. As a trio, their armour plates scraping quietly, they lifted their heads. As they walked towards the distant door, they brought their levelled glares across the scouts and other Union members along walls and within lines to report to Madara. Not one dared meet any of the trio's eyes in respect similar to what they showed Madara, inclining their heads and parting the way to let them through.

White robes rustled as Madara got to his feet. He glanced across, his heavy gaze breaking past the stained-glass windows and out across the rolling landscape, troubled and dark. Indeed, he already knew of the scouts' successes. In fact, they had not failed a single mission he had given them since he'd put their groups through brutal training. Those who had survived, excelled.

He continued to ponder as he adjusted his sleeves, exhaling with some weariness as he anticipated a number of upcoming reports from other factions. Creating those factions had taken little time; in a few short weeks, Madara's new reign as the official god and vicious leader of this cult had reasserted it into power. He had wrung it out of its weakness and inefficiencies; the wasted resources, the wasted time. Members lost, either through fear or through death, did not matter to him: he would not have this cult, now publicly under his name, be as scatterbrained and daydreaming as it had been under Saito's unfortunate, cowardly leadership.

Led by his appointed trio, cultist scouts now honed and dangerous had accomplished Madara's daunting list of missions with the cutting efficiency and speed of a chef wielding his knife. Impressive, considering it had only been three months since he'd taken over the Union and begun his deeply-reaching reform. Madara smirked to himself as he thought about what this meant: the little council of Kages and fat-mouthed elders that led the opposite side of the war would be shivering in their sandals, now. Now, the air was taut with fear and constant tension in every village, along every road, between all shinobi: now, the war was truly at hand, and it felt like it to all who continued to live and fight.

He looked forward to meeting that council in tomorrow's setting as well as the little unrelated side-visit he had planned for afterwards, should tomorrow's invasion not yield what he wanted. It would be fine either way, he was certain: now that he had those who opposed him in this war by their throats, it was time he make his demands.

---

The shapes of the dozen scouts were as silent as the snow where they landed in lifeless, leafless trees, their dark armour blending with the twisting network of icy branches and gray skies above. In perfect, muted steps they perched upon trunks and stared down from the dormant forest canopy, their honed figures each practised and careful.

At their lead was Sasaki, her feet unwavering from a sloping snow-covered branch where she stared down at the subject of hers and her squad's focus. Black hair swept around her bloodless features, her eyes agleam with fierce concentration, one hand straying over her hilted blade in unconscious, defensive preparation for a fight.

She lifted a single gloved hand. The hooded, tightly-swathed armoured scouts at her command remained perfectly still on their perches like they had frozen in the wintry wind. Quiet as the sun piercing through the clouds high above, Sasaki's quick gaze skittered across the rooftops of a pagoda-like complex below. It covered a square expanse in a modest plot of land cut from the heart of the forest, smothered in snow that slathered its sloping rooftops and gabled eaves.

Her attention was upon the figures almost hidden where they stood, posted in sizable numbers across the rooftops. Her stare narrowed, the number confirming several times in her head, and Sasaki's lifted hand gestured, her attentive squad picking up the number she communicated without a word. She pointed towards several areas she knew there were more well-hidden guards; she nodded towards guards posted at each corner down below on the ground, and with a final splitting gesture between both of her hands, her squad understood her commands.

Sasaki and half of her squad landed upon the pagoda-style rooftop in immaculate silence. The other half descended in similarly perfect quiet, stealing towards unaware guards. Tossing the wild black hair from her face, Sasaki crept forward towards the back of another guard, her gloved hands at the ready. Her scouts behind her watched, rapt students of their practised teacher.

Sasaki's takedown of the guard was a blur of white and black in a swirl of snow-dusted air. She had them down against the slippery tiles in a neat, soundless slam, her chop at the back of their neck swift enough that even her watchful scouts barely saw it. Catching the guard's body, Sasaki laid them in the snow. The green of his Konoha vest stood out, his headband flashing in the low light with the symbol marking him as one of the allied shinobi forces, matching that of the ones all the other guards were wearing.

Her head swivelled like an owl's. Violet eyes flashed, and with that her scouts disseminated, splitting across the rooftops with hands and weapons readied towards where she'd indicated the presence of more guards. Spotting an empty balcony, Sasaki seized the guard's body and threw them over her shoulder; zig-zagging down the rooftop in a dance of graceful steps, she landed upon the balcony, the loose snow shaking off of her black armour.

Rising to her full height, Sasaki slid the door open quietly, carefully, revealing a dark and empty room. She set her burden down within the relative warmth of the room, and with a quick finger along their neck confirming they were unconscious rather than dead, she turned away, closing the door behind her and leaping back up onto the rooftops above.

She rose like the bloom of a stormcloud to the highest rooftop precipice. Perching upon a chimney stack, she looked around, her dark hair adrift around her stony expression.

Below, her scouts had taken down the ground-level guards. She rose to her feet, catching their attention, and she pointed towards the balcony she'd been in moments before, her wooden expression never changing. Obediently, the scouts below leapt upwards with bodies in hand until they reached her indicated destination; they left their unconscious enemies just inside beside the other accosted guard before rejoining Sasaki at her side.

She turned her attention to the rest of the rooftops. There were several more of her squad returning, unconscious guards in hand, but two were still occupied with a single remaining guard where he crouched at the lip of a rooftop.

She watched as the pair crept towards him. One exchanged glances with the other, and drew his blade — the other shook his head, but the one with the blade advanced forward with swift, unhesitant steps until he'd rammed his sword through the guard's back.

The other caught the stabbed enemy, dragging him back with a hand clapped over his mouth. He drew his own blade to silence him forever.

She was a flash of black that skewered through the three, knocking them apart with a single neatly-timed strike. The two scouts stumbled backwards, imbalanced with their newly-broken arms. The stabbed guard had fallen, sliding down the slanted icy roof — Sasaki seized him by the collar, throwing him onto a flatter expanse of roof. He landed on his stomach with a soft cry, glancing up at her in time to stare at her with wide eyes, and her chop to his neck had him unconscious in moments.

The two scouts Sasaki had apprehended and injured were crouching, clutching at their arms with dry, suppressed cries they tried to mute beneath their hands. She stood tall above them both, her features icy and her shadowed eyes a twinned abyss.

"Why is it we spare our enemies from death?" she said, her voice soft, but her tone deadly-sharp.

The injured scouts shook their heads, their faces sickly with pain and their voices blubbering. One of the other scouts that had watched approached, a mark of red around his arm, but Sasaki's cutting glance caused him to pause, the healing glow sputtering away from his hands before he'd reached the injured. She nodded towards the unconscious enemy guard instead, and the medic set to work, pressing his palms over the wound through the man's back that had begun to well up with blood.

"Only enough for him to survive," she instructed the medic, turning her dangerous stare back to her injured scouts. "Now tell me."

Fear rippled not only through the trouble-immersed pair but through the whole of Sasaki's squad. She was respected, and she was feared, and though they feared Madara much more, Sasaki was the one directly in charge of them. They'd long learned not to earn her ire, let alone her anger: her punishments were dire, creative, and to be avoided at all costs.

One of the injured scouts managed to speak through the pain. He tried not to look at where bone stuck out of the clothed joint of his elbow, blood dripping into the snow. "E-e-e-everyone d-d-deserves to dream," he stammered.

"Yes." Sasaki's hiss breezed across the rooftop, sending goosebumps beneath armour and terror through each of their hearts. "Everyone deserves to dream, even our enemies, even you. For all to dream in infinite peace is Lord Madara's vision, and not only is it the right way, it is the only way." Her violet eyes glittered as she stared down at the pair of cowering scouts. "It is also vital for you to understand that there are many worse things than death and—" She leaned over them, the slightest of smiles twitching the corners of her lips. "—I can make certain you learn that lesson so very painfully. I won't be killing either of you for flouting such a basic rule of ours… that would be much too easy on you."

"Yes, ma'am." Both inclined their heads, though they trembled violently. Blood dripped in the snow from their unclean arm breaks, their nearby medic eyeing them with a twitching need to help.

Sasaki folded her arms with a nod. "You are fortunate this mission has just finished for your squad. They will take you back to headquarters. Kenji—" the medic lifted his head, "reset their bones, stop the bleeding and prevent infection. Give them splints and casts if needed but do not give them any treatment for the pain." Sasaki's flat expression was cold and pale as the wintry wind.

Kenji nodded respectfully. Sasaki glanced from the unconscious, now stabilised guard to another nearby scout, who understood her silent command; he scooped up the body, leaping down to the balcony from before and setting him indoors with the others. For a moment, all scouts' eyes returned to Sasaki, standing tall before them. "This mission was an easy success. Your training has taken hold well. I will report favourably for most of you to our great lord."

Nods, excited breaths hidden beneath masks and thick bindings of cloth to insulate from the cold; Sasaki opened her mouth to give a final command, and stiffened, a twitch about her brows knotting her otherwise flat expression as a figure landed in a blur beside her. "Isamu," she greeted familiarly with a slight tightness about her lips.

Isamu glanced over her scouts, his attention catching on the injured pair briefly before he turned his gaze back to Sasaki. "They let the enemy manage a blow?"

"Tch. Hardly." Sasaki's subtle scowl deepened as another figure landed at her other side, his long straight hair a dance of brown about his face as he stood tall and peered over the other two. "Are we all done? Our lord should be arriving soon. Make sure you have everything in order."

"Of course it's all fine. Shove off, Hayashi," Sasaki was grumbling as Isamu had made a short, almost bitter laugh. "There's no need to remind us, brother. I think we are all well aware that there's no mercy for shortcomings." The two scouts with broken arms nodded through their held-back hisses of pain, their heads ducked and pride smashed as their medic tended cautiously to their battered arms.

"Sasaki is copying his style, I think," Hayashi commented. He eyed her as she folded her arms, her icy glare sliding over her scouts. "I am not nearly as patient," she answered, and her group of silent, waiting scouts ducked their head in guilty repose, avoiding her eye.

"But just as unforgiving. They've done their jobs." Isamu gestured across the rooftop now entirely lacking of guards, their presences now only dusted footprints in the snow.

After a pause, he met Sasaki and Hayashi's gazes with a smug smile. "Though not as impressively as my own squadron. We took out the ones along the front and back roads in half the time."
"His ranger shinobi are best-suited for that, anyway," Hayashi shrugged, "just as how my own already took care of the trouble indoors. All but the panel hall itself is vulnerable and ready for our invasion."

Isamu tilted his head towards the building beneath their feet. Dusky hair fell over his narrowed gaze. "Our lord's invasion, not our invasion. We aren't coming in with each of our trained squads all at once. That would just invite an immediate battle."

"One we would lose." Sasaki shook her head, and her trio companions turned to her with flashing eyes and mouths briefly agape. "Watch your tongue. Are you implying our lord and our squads couldn't take this pathetic panel down? We could do it even without the element of surprise."

"Do you have any idea who's in there?"

"Don't tell me you're intimidated by those Edo Tensei reanimations," Hayashi rolled his eyes.

Isamu's dark eyes were wide. "Are they still even around? I thought they crumbled to dust months ago. If they remain reanimated, they can't have much strength left, even if it is the first and second Hokages among them."

"Not them." Sasaki's stare swept over her scouts, then past the trees, her violet gaze calculating and shadowed. "You're fools to underestimate the Kages. Yes, our lord easily defeated them at once before, but they aren't alone. Now they have all their lackeys and best shinobi at hand. All their favourites."

"That doesn't worry me." Hayashi huffed, wiping at his cold-reddened nose with a dark sleeve and eyeing Sasaki. She shook her head grimly. "You're more of an idiot than I thought. You don't fear that 'Team Seven'?"

"They're nothing to sneeze at," Isamu contributed with a nod. "Hey, we're a trio." He aimed a grin at Hayashi and Sasaki, who shot him matching scowls as he spoke with more mirth than before, blinking snowflakes from his eyes as the skies fell with a light fresh snow. "We're like the new, better 'Team Seven', like I've heard your scouts whispering lately. Let's embrace it, huh? What should we be called? Team Eight?"

"This again," Sasaki groaned, covering her face with her hands as Hayashi shook his head. "Isamu, this joke wasn't funny the first, nor the second time."

"But it is," he whined, shifting between his feet in the snow. "Come on. Hayashi, you're grouchy, so you're like the Uchiha kid. And Sasaki, well, she's nothing like the pink-haired girl. Honestly, Sasaki looks like an Uchiha and has the stuck-up attitude of one, so we'll actually dub her as our Sasuke. I'm like that Naruto kid, and that makes you our Sakura—"

"Don't bring her up," Hayashi cut Isamu off. He glanced around the rooftop, and the huddled scouts crouched in formation beside them had tensed as well, all eyes skittering through the trees like the rest of the world was suddenly watching them. Sasaki had a solidly neutral expression, dark eyes shifting about.

Isamu's good humour faltered, and now the trio stood in a grim, sobered silence with Hayashi shaking his head. "Well, damn. None of you are fun," he grumbled.

Brushing some of the snow from his armour, Hayashi shot Isamu a dirty look. "Watch your big mouth or we'll get in worse trouble than we're already in."

"What, are you upset you're our Sasuke?" Isamu offered Sasaki a half-grin. "Did I guess correctly at your Uchiha genes? Maybe I hit a nerve. But mostly I think you're mad that you're nothing like the famous pink girl whose name I shouldn't say."

Sasaki shrugged. "No one wants to be her. Not after all the bad press and the rumours these last months." The other two murmured in agreement, memories of the endless headlines and the reels of dozens of rumours about Sakura and her whereabouts scrolling down the back of their heads. "Really, I am more flattered that you think I'm an Uchiha. It's a shame you're dead wrong." Sasaki glanced away, the knot between her brows quickly gone in her flat, neutral expression.

"Both of you need to change the subject, immediately," Hayashi hissed, having lost all of his former good humour as he looked around nervously. "If our lord overhears your idiotic conversation, you'll regret it. We need to focus. Have you both made sure we have everything secured on the ground and indoors?"

Isamu paused, the shine freezing in his eyes; Sasaki had similarly stiffened in the winter wind, hers and Isamu's heads turning.

Hayashi and Isamu stood at attention on either side of her, awareness of what was happening flickering across their faces and those of the scouts behind them. Their expressions sobered, their winter-bit faces paling further.

As a trio, they collapsed into a bow at once, armour scraping and heads inclining. The scouts immediately mirrored their generals with their breaths lost over stopped hearts. None dared look up to see the streak of white that hurtled down in a flash, landing upon the slightly bloodied snow-covered rooftop.

Mismatched eyes glowed in the dull light of the wintry afternoon as Madara rose to his feet. Several more Union members, nearly as decorated as the trio was and fully-armoured, landed behind him with less grace but just as silently.

"You have finished," Madara commented. He gestured dismissively, and Isamu rose first, followed by Hayashi and then Sasaki. Each kept their eyes respectfully on the ground, the lingering scouts remaining deeply bowed as Madara went on. Down below, scouts that had caught sight of Madara from the other squads had also crouched into respectful bows, their eyes flickering watchfully between their surroundings and Madara above.

"I trust this all went well."

"Yes." Sasaki nodded, avoiding meeting Madara's somewhat bored, digging stare shifting between the three of them, her gaze affixed politely downwards. "All guards posted on the exterior are taken down without raising any alarm."

"We've disabled the genjutsu snares they set in the surrounding areas," Isamu said, followed by Hayashi's quick addition. "We've also intercepted a group of guards that were on their way here to relieve the others."

"Good." Madara turned, his glare levelling upon the high balcony doors. "Hm."

"They've spared them again," one of the armoured members that had arrived in the group with Madara complained, "insisting on non-lethal attacks for all our scouts — is it really necessary? Do you approve of that rule?"

The trio stiffened subtly, their eyes wide on the snow by Madara's boots, and each held their tongues as they felt him considering each of them while he spoke.

"Who insists upon this?"

"All of them." Grumbling agreement among those behind Madara, and Hayashi was nodding, Isamu exchanging subtle glances with Sasaki between their bowed positions in the snow.

Madara was considering the three of them, his narrowed eyes flicking from one to the other. "Has any of them insisting upon this rule caused delays in completing your missions?"

"Well, no."

"Has it caused failure, compounded issue, or otherwise complicated what is important to both your duties and to our cause?"

"No—"

"Generals…" The trio lifted their heads, though their eyes remained respectfully low as Madara addressed them directly. "Why is it you attack without intent to kill?"

Sasaki was the one to answer, shutting her eyes briefly with dark hair shadowing her pale, wooden features. "Everyone deserves the infinite dream."

Isamu nodded. The scouts behind Sasaki bowed deeper, their admiration and awe matching that which was expressed in the deep respect and humbled posture of the trio of leaders before them where they spoke with Madara. It was clear that the sentiment was well-shared, firmly believed in by each, and Madara looked away with a hm.

"Then I have little issue with it." He flexed his gloved hands, staring intently at the doors below, his presence electric with his intensity. "The rest of you stay posted out here. I do not expect this to take long."

"Please, Lord Madara." Sasaki inclined her head deeper, her voice strong but her tone respectful. He paused, glancing over at her with an arched brow as she addressed him. "Let myself, Isamu, and Hayashi accompany you into the panel meeting. We would be honoured to be your personal guards."

"I do not need guards." Madara swept past as the trio rose slowly to their feet, exchanging glances, and it was Hayashi to carry out the argument, turning with polite but firm protest. "We understand well that you don't, but please. It will show them all that you take us as your reformed Union seriously. It will make them respect us, in turn."

Madara turned his head just enough for his Rinnegan eye to fall upon his trio, who had bowed their heads again in avoidance of his sharp, powerful eyes. He considered them as a group for a moment.

They were like a gradient from dark, to light. Sasaki was the night of the three; dark hair fell in thick black waves around her plain face, hiding her wooden expression, while Hayashi was the setting sun beside her with the brown-sienna of his hair and the muted light within his strong, steadfast presence. Isamu was the lightest of the three, the opposite of Sasaki with his eager energy and good humour, visible even when he was sobered of a grin. He had a hand along the back of her arm in quiet, almost hidden support, and though she showed no nervousness or faltering expression, his gentle grip seemed to steady her invisible tension.

They were not an echo of other teams, not an attempted recreation or mimicry of anyone. They were a trio of their own, a union of clashing energies and personalities, and it interested Madara to see these moments in which his appointed three Union leaders had moments of concurrent, unanimous agreement like this on something other than the widespread cultist passion for the Infinite Tsukuyomi cause.

Madara's gaze slid between the three of them with just a touch of his own hidden renewed interest before he exhaled quietly, tapping gloved fingers along his arms. "Consider your point acknowledged. I will allow it, then, this time." He looked forward, down at the doors to the pagoda-style building, his mismatched eyes narrowed; his hair as white as the snow-covered tiled roofs around him fell in jagged locks around his unnaturally pale face. "Come, then, you three and no others. Do not speak nor otherwise intervene in what is said or done."

Isamu, Sasaki and Hayashi bowed more deeply in assent before leaping fully to their feet and following Madara, their dark armour scraping and boots crunching in the snow. They each gestured with a lifted hand, and in a shuffling of unified moment, the trio's three tightly-trained squads took back off into the trees.

---

"That's enough." The bickering voices throughout the circular panel of decorated members hushed as a confident, frustrated voice resounded out across the wide room. Leaning forward, brown eyes set in black scleras narrowed as Hashirama stared down all the Kages seated, his cracked hands digging into the sides of his seat. "We cannot continue to argue and speak over each other like this. We are at a crucial point in this war and we need to stand united, not divided. Is being an allied force of all shinobi not the very point of meeting as one panel?"

Beside Hashirama was Tobirama, sitting back with folded arms and a scowl twisting his bloodless features. His sienna-red glare slashed from Kage to Kage with visible judgement, and he didn't need to voice his distaste of each of them, every frustration he had as obvious in his expression as it was in Hashirama's words. The both of them were covered in visible, branching cracks that spread over armour and skin, flaking occasionally, their bodies fragile from nearly a year as Edo Tensei, though their presences remained intense with innate power and confidence that still commanded the respect of those surrounding them.

"My grandfather is right as always." Tsunade at Hashirama's side was an echo of both him and Tobirama — the reminiscence of each visible in her mannerisms and her Senju features. Her nails dug into her tightly-folded arms, her gaze perforating each of the other panel members in a loose circle around her. "In the face of a threat as great as Uchiha Madara and his reformed cult, we can't afford to be fighting each other. We need to agree on a plan to address and take down both him and all his damned Union 'scouts' before we lose this war."

"They're just another Akatsuki," Ōnoki pitched in with a growl. "We can handle them the same."

"The Akatsuki," Tsunade replied with a tone made of ice, "killed some of the best shinobi to grace us." Murmurs across the crowds looking on to the panel from the back — Jiraiya, among other names, was whispered between onlookers as Tsunade went on. "They caused chaos, death, and destruction for years. And you think we can handle them easily with Madara as their leader?"

"Well what have you been doing about it? I haven't heard much about your famous Konoha shinobi making any respectable attempts to kill him. And now, all our trade routes are taken hostage. We'll go broke. We'll starve!"

More voices among Kages and elders with other council members rose in cacophonous agreement and argument at once, almost indistinguishable from each other as they all began to bicker at once. "I run a farming village! We don't have our own shinobi and thanks to the cult-occupied main road in and out we can't even trade. Where are the shinobi we were promised to protect us? From the Sand… from the Leaf as well?"

"They're fighting. More than half our forces are in our hospital right now. We can't spare any to guard you when we're fighting for our lives to defend our own village."

"Has anyone managed to kill their scouts? Why are they so strong?"

"If we can't trade between villages, my people will starve. We've lost multiple shipments to cultists of valuable tools and other supplies. We can't go on like this much longer."

"I thought Konoha had some of the best shinobi. Why is Madara still alive? And why did he suddenly start taking this war more seriously in the past few months? It felt almost like peace over the summer with whatever he was occupied doing, leaving us alone."

"They're hardly some of the best. That Sasuke is nothing but a criminal, no matter that he was conditionally pardoned. And Naruto ended up a disappointment with Madara still fully alive and well and stronger than ever. Why haven't we seen the high-and-mighty converted prisoner of theirs, Obito whoever, doing something against the cult? Where is Konoha's bragged-about presence?"

"Haven't you heard about their little dramas some months back?" Mei was the one to contribute now, leaning forward with a sharklike grin, her rich red hair falling in waves over her shoulders. "That little pink-haired kunoichi of theirs, do you remember her?"

A grimace rippled across the faces of those seated among the Konoha shinobi. Behind where the Senju Hokages sat, the extent of Team Seven without said pink kunoichi were tense upon their benches, Sasuke's face twisted with anger and Naruto's hand on his arm as he looked on with a frown. Obito and Kakashi were also keeping forcibly silent, glowering down at the arguing, clashing members of the first circle of seated Kages. Hashirama and Tobirama were silent now as they looked to Tsunade, expecting her to take responsibility in running the panel.

Mei's eyes glittered as she looked between her fellow Kage. "How she was famed for her mission keeping Madara away from his final hope to cast his jutsu — his lost eye? I have to say, she kept him on the chase for an impressive amount of time." Her eyes narrowed. "I'm certain that's why things appeared peaceful. He cared about nothing but recovering the eye. It only makes sense."

"We're not discussing her here," Tsunade interjected coldly, but Mei ignored her, waving a hand with a mean little laugh. "I'm sure none of us have forgotten that kunoichi or how her mission blew up spectacularly in Tsunade's face. Oh — the way she was revealed at his cult-takeover party to be one of his subjugates all along! Dancing with him for all to see… how romantic!"

"It disgusts me that Konoha has another criminal among their ranks."

"I don't care how she kept him busy. Whatever she did kept him off our backs for months."

"Tsunade's kunoichi was leading him around by the nose for months and none of her shinobi took the opportunity to kill him?"

More voices spoke up at the mention of Sakura, the mixed murmurs causing the fourth Raikage A to fold his arms and lean back with a deep growl. B shifted next to him, exchanging glances with Naruto across the room as A spoke. "Mei's right to bring up that little chūnin of yours, Tsunade. I don't know what was going on with your mission scheming over the spring and summer but it was almost as if we were in peacetime. I lost zero shinobi in the time period within which that chūnin was keeping him on the chase; my village was relatively undisturbed by cultists; and now, now everything has gone to hell. What is Madara's motivation to do this? Why cut off all our routes and bother to hold our resources hostage now?"

"Because he is who he is," argued Ōnoki with a rankling scowl, scratching his red nose. Bandages still bound some of his limbs, and he was able to sit up and speak without assistance, though his great-great granddaughter Kurotsuchi stayed close at his aide with a pensive look on her face. "Madara has always been destructive, unpredictable, and malicious. He's never going to change. It was only a matter of time — remember how many of our best shinobi he wiped out during the beginning of this war… including me, almost."

Tsunade let out an impatient huff. "Yes, my student had Madara chasing her to recapture his Rinnegan from her for a time, keeping him busy. Perhaps it's true that this kept things at a relative near-peacetime while he was distracted. But due to complications, I've had to cut that mission of hers shortly after his cult takeover."

"Complications?" Gaara blinked over at her, troubled. "It would appear that taking her off of that chase is what triggered all of the new crises we've been enduring since then. Her removal from that responsibility is the most reasonable explanation for why that thin peacetime is over; the timing matches up. Assuming she was following orders rather than doing something criminal like the others seem to think, it seems it would have been wise to either change course or continue her mission rather than stop it completely, regardless of the bad publicity."

"Don't be ridiculous." Tsunade's expression was thunderous as a buzz of voices from onlookers in the outer rings rose. "Sakura isn't the trigger. I happened to remove her from her mission at the same time that Madara happened to take over the cult." She gripped her fists, bringing her glare around the circle. "We, as the leaders of this nation, need to discuss a plan to slow down and eradicate the new Akatsuki. Their terroristic operations are only going to get worse until we have all-out battles just like in the beginning of this war. Once we have the cultists under control, we can focus on stopping Madara himself."

"Wait, let's not move on from discussing what happened with your kunoichi just yet. It's a juicy topic. I had eyes in that event during his Union takeover," Mei hummed, fingers tapping along her arms. "It was dramatic. Some fascinating things happened I'd love to divulge, if the rest of you haven't already heard. Your brave, foolish little chūnin, Tsunade… other than becoming Konoha's national shame instead of your badge of pride these past months, she actually managed to—"

"She is under investigation," Tsunade said through brittle, clenched teeth. "I'll say nothing more on the matter."

Mei chuckled while the other Kages exchanged looks. Beside Tsunade, Hashirama was looking confused; Tobirama glowered at his murmured question, shaking his head.

"It's unwise to believe any hearsay," Gaara said neutrally, "let's trust that Tsunade will handle Sakura, since it's too late to return her to her former mission and try to distract Madara any longer. As long as his Rinnegan eye is still secured well out of his reach, I think we should move on from the subject." He cleared his throat. "I agree that the cult is the main focus for now. They have become the main problem. I can report," Gaara went on, frowning, "that they have a strong presence in Suna I am working to eradicate. The good news I have from my side is that they haven't killed any of my shinobi; only injured them, and they've since healed. I'm not sure why they've avoided lethal attacks, but either way, I have made it publicly clear in Suna that it is illegal to affiliate, associate with, or assist the cult in any way, punishable by imprisonment."

The other Kages grumbled their agreement; they had erected similar rules in their own villages. "I don't care why they're avoiding killing shinobi. They've injured enough of them and I won't tolerate them in any capacity. I've already executed several of their runaway members," Ōnoki was saying, "can't have that nonsense about worshipping Madara anywhere near my village."

"Runaway? What about the ones that are stronger, still in the cult – the ones that matter?"
"Shut up, A. I haven't heard about the Cloud village capturing any."

"What did you just say to me?" A's large hand strayed over his blade, and he rose slightly in his seat, his aura crackling with visibly electric fury. Hashirama and Tobirama's heads turned, their own hands shifting into position in defensive preparation for a fight, while shinobi all around the panel began to bristle similarly, the tension across the hundreds present becoming charged with a widespread, mutual itch to fight.

"Now, let's not all start battling each other over this… there's enough of that going on without—"

A thundering of the doors shook the room. Hitting the walls hard enough to crack, they fell out of their hinges, shuddering into rubble as all heads slowly turned. Every face matched in a unified expression of horror as Madara himself strode into the heart of the panel.

He stopped at the center, lifting dangerous eyes that he brought around in a curved, bladed glance. Each Kage was frozen in their chair, teeth clenching with anger; shinobi, councilmen, and elders that made up the audience in the surrounding rings ducked their heads like he'd thrown an attack their way. A trio of guards in black armour stood at attention a short distance behind Madara, their shadowed eyes carefully climbing across the expanse of the hall, their faces matching in wooden, glaring expressions.

White hair shifted as Madara turned, folding his arms over his Six-Paths robes. Shadows crossed his frown as he let the room simmer in tension a moment longer before speaking. Just behind him, his trio of armoured Union generals were resolute and grim, their pale faces shadowed in strictly neutral expressions. Stricken eyes around them flicked from Madara to the symbol of the reformed Union etched in blood-red along their armour.

"I knew your 'Allied Shinobi' proclamations were a farce since the first moment I saw your armies." Madara looked between each Kage, his mismatched eyes burning brightly. "Even at this point, amidst what is now more truly war, you cannot stay unified. It is a pathetic sight to behold." His lips quirked in a slight smirk as he glanced from Ōnoki to Tsunade to Gaara, shaking his head. "Fools, from generation to generation. Nothing ever changes."

Hashirama was scowling at Madara like everyone else around him, and while Tobirama kept himself restrained with a vicious grimace on his face, A shoved to his feet with his blade fully drawn. B caught his arm with a hushed protest, Tsunade, Mei and Ōnoki sending quick, glaring looks his way.

Madara looked over at A and his teeth-clenched rage with disdain. "You are only proving my point further. You yearn to battle. None of you — not one — have any interest in attempting true peace, and this would be true whether I was here or not." He leaned in, his mismatched eyes flashing. "We can skip my peaceable offer and fight, if you are so eager for me to remind you how pitifully weak you are in comparison to me. I would find it mildly entertaining at least to crush the lot of you beneath my boot — again."

Just behind Madara, his guards stood taller, hands grazing their hilted blades. While the two brown-haired guards looked around at all the Kages with restrained apprehension, their dark-haired counterpart was looking between Madara and the Konoha shinobi collective, her violet eyes subtly wide in her wooden expression. Her frame was wrought with tension beneath her Union-branded black armour.

A ground his teeth, his aura static with electricity as he raged where he stood, but B had a firm grip on his arm, and the heavy weight of every stare among the Kages indicated that it was not the time to fight. They were unprepared, unplanned, with collateral damage on all sides; it would be messy, with guaranteed fatalities.

With a grunt, A sat back in his seat, brittle as metal. In a similar vibe of restrained fury, Naruto was holding on tightly to Sasuke while Kakashi was keeping an eye on Obito, his rage much colder and more controlled but far more dangerous. Hatred was drawn in his grooved features and flashing dark eye as he watched Madara with sheer and utter contempt.

Madara snorted, glancing around once more. "Well, then. If your dog stays leashed, then we can proceed with the offer I have come to grace you with."

"Get on with it, Madara," Tsunade growled. She herself was barely restrained where she sat, a vein throbbing in her forehead, her skin flushed with fury.

Madara looked down upon the panel of Kages. "I will agree to remove the Union's influence from all trading routes; return withheld resources, and withdraw my control from your villages. Violence will cease; no more of your shinobi, nor civilians, shall suffer." He levelled his glare with any who dared meet his eye. "Your false peacetime will make its return. You can argue amongst yourselves… without my threat looming, for a minimum of several months, allowing you all to recover and plan."

His trio of guards inclined their heads slightly; they watched Madara with subtly intense expressions, their fists gripping their hilted blades tightly, bodies tense beneath their armour. "In exchange," Madara was saying, "return my Rinnegan eye."

Each Kage's expressions seized, and Tsunade was quick to lean forward in her seat with a snarl. "Never. Damaged as that eye is, we would never be so stupid as to agree to that. I don't care what you offer in return."

Subtle protests from those seated in the back — the return of their roads, of their trades and their livelihoods, was not something they would have denied so quickly. Time was running out for their home villages suffocating under the Union's thumb.

Madara's mismatched eyes glittered, knowing and smug. He shifted where he stood, his expression as deadly as he was serious. "As I had thought. It was disappointingly easy to anticipate that you would not be so reasonable as to agree to that so soon. Very well then: I will make this even more simple for you. For the same exchange where I release your routes and resources back to you in a temporary peacetime like that of this summer…"

All eyes magnetised to Madara in unison as he revised his offer with a lethal flash about his eyes, his powerful voice rumbling through the vast room. "I simply want — her."

Silence across the panel room. Every member's expression grew still other than brows twitching, eyes widening, especially those of the Senju Kages and Madara's guards, who looked more taken aback than any of the others before they reigned in their expressions. One lifted his head, watching the crowds carefully for signs of incoming attacks, his companion staring forward blankly, while the last drew herself up tightly, her shellshocked eyes striking Madara's back.

Madara brought his lethal glare over to Tsunade. "Not a clone of her," he clarified icily, "her original."

Questioning whispers amongst the crowds beyond the panel – confused glances between the Kages. Tobirama exchanged murmurs with the puzzled Hashirama; Madara's guards tensed further.

"Who do you speak of?" Hashirama asked, leaning forward with a frown, his dark eyes sparking with ongoing confusion and surprise. "Tsunade?"

Madara scoffed, eyeing Hashirama with ire. "You jest."

"He means Sakura," Tsunade answered, her glare unwavering from him. Madara glanced back at her, lifting a silver brow. "I want my answer from your panel here and now. I won't tolerate your indecisive bickering like Hashirama; do not waste my time."

Tsunade's pen broke in her grip as she clenched her fists. Several whispers amongst the Kages became audible as Madara eyed Tsunade. "It is my final peaceful offer."

Tsunade opened her mouth to make her thunderous refusal, but it was Naruto who interrupted her, lifting his head and speaking out with a grim but resolved expression. "We should agree."

Soft gasps spread across the room. Whispers between the Kages, all eyes digging into Naruto with great pause at his unexpected declaration. Onlookers beyond the inner panel exchanged furious murmurs, looking on with interest and surprise as his words rang out. Madara also turned towards Naruto, his mismatched eyes narrowing upon him with subtle suspicion at his unexpected support; his trio of guards kept their eyes on the ground, though their expressions twitched as they attempted to hide their own reactions.

"What?" Tsunade hissed at him, swerving in her seat. Kakashi, Obito and Sasuke were blinking incredulously at Naruto like all the others. "She's your teammate. How could you say such a thing? Are you insane?"

"He wants her so he can torture her for information on the Rinnegan's location," Obito hissed under his breath. "If he ever gets the eye, he can then force her to heal it and cast the Infinite Tsukuyomi. It's a worse deal than the first, no matter what it looks like. Another manipulation."

"Sakura can handle herself," Naruto's eyes slid over to connect with Madara's, who stared him down from the heart of the panel with his piercing stare. "I know he won't hurt her."

Scoffs all around at Naruto's claim were drowned out by Tsunade's bellow. "I will not agree to this. Absolutely not," she thundered, pale as a sheet but for the mottled, angry red in her face.

"Tsunade," came several protests from the other Kages at once. A gestured angrily, his large fists clenched. "It would be foolish to turn down such an offer just to protect one worthless chūnin. If that's what he wants, and we get our roads, resources and livelihoods back, then let's agree." There was a widespread, loud assent sounding from all the onlookers high above the panel at the outermost ring. Shinobi, civilians and accompanying officials all shared A's opinion, as did the other Kages around the panel who looked on in rare unity, frustration knitting their expressions as they had been preparing to agree to Madara's revised demand.

"No," Tsunade repeated, smouldering with her fury. "Sakura is not worthless… and he will not have her."

Hashirama's lifted hand silenced Naruto from protesting further, shaking his head. The other Kages began to argue amongst themselves again, the noise rising from the crowds beyond the inner panel rings.

Madara's eyes narrowed further as more voices rose in protest. Conflicted faces throughout the room had turned grim as most were in agreement that Sakura's sacrifice to whatever terrible things Madara would have of her would be worth what he had offered.

His glance brushed across his guards; two had their blades half-unsheathed, though the warning touch of his eyes had each hilting them once more, their gazes burning upon the ground as they inclined their heads with respect.

"I understand being protective of your student," Mei spoke above the others, addressing Tsunade. She leaned into her steepled fingers with a frown. "But it's thousands of our people's livelihoods at stake. Even if it's temporary, it's worth giving her up, and it's just her, not the eye. Think, Tsunade. The lives we'd save — fights prevented, and for what? One kunoichi versus all of our shinobi?"

Tsunade had risen to her feet. She challenged Madara with a ferocious snarl, golden hair falling loose in strands around her red, enraged expression and seized fists, her presence afire with intense, dangerous energy. "Go back to hell, Madara."

"Tch." He shifted stances, and all the Kages leapt to their feet, their hands aglow with various defensive abilities at the ready. His guards mirrored him, blades slowly drawing in unison. "If that's your final decision…"

The crowd was already pushing out through the exit doors in a panic as the Kages faced off against Madara, anger and frustration knotting their faces. Madara glowered out at them all, gloved fingers flexing restlessly. "You will watch your precious villages and 'unified' nation disintegrate one by one until you give me what I want."

Several thrown attacks hit nothing but air as he and his guards disappeared in a swirl of Kamui, Madara's spinning red eye already gone as blades slashed through the space he had been in moments before.

---

He drew up to the door, ringing the bell beside the window. His glance over the humble residence was unimpressed; this was the semi-disorganised, quite small home of middle-class citizens barely past the tier of poverty, and civilians, to boot.

As he waited, Madara folded his arms, glancing aside with a frown. This… is where her roots were? He had still not quite believed her that she was not the daughter of her beloved Hokage, or at least closely-related to the Senju. Sakura's resemblance to both Tsunade and to Hashirama's wife Mito was something uncanny.

His head turned as the door slid open. A tired blonde woman with a stack of papers under an arm and weariness circling her eyes stopped still in the doorway, inhaling sharply as she took in the sight of Madara.

His dark eyes narrowed as her face went utterly pale, fear flickering in her eyes. She took a step back, one hand still on the door. "Ah — um —"

Used to the fearful reactions of women to his presence, Madara sighed, gloved fingers tapping along his dark sleeves. "Is your daughter in?"

The woman's face went slack before her eyes narrowed. Madara recognised the muted spark of a backbone within her that Sakura had inherited, a dangerous flash behind her forest-green irises that was quickly gone as she steeped her head with respect. She had sensed that Madara was someone of importance and power to some degree, dampening her defensive reaction in time. "I apologise, sir; she's not."

"Do you know when she will be?"

Sakura's mother frowned at his question. "May I ask who you are to her?"

Madara hummed, eyeing the humble abode beyond. He noticed framed photos, flower pots with lively greenery, pots of tea and a well-worn kotatsu table; smells of cooking, scents of cleaning supplies, of freshly-blooming flowers sitting in the window sill. Humble, yes; but also homey.

"Consider me a friend of hers." Dark hair fell around Madara's shadowed, neutral expression as he stared Sakura's mother down, his presence intense even in his calm, casual manner. The breeze rippled around his dark, unmarked robes; he was the embodiment of night even where he stood in the sunny light of day on the residence's doorstep, the heaviness of his past and his identity tangible even when masked in the return of his black-haired henge.

Disbelief danced across the blonde woman's expression before she cleared her throat uncomfortably, her unease visible in her taut posture and pale features. "You may come in," she said hesitantly, "if you would like. I have tea if you're inclined."

Her offer was only obligatory, a polite extension that she clearly didn't want him to accept, but Madara smirked as he brushed past her into the house, waving a gloved hand. "Yes. Green is fine. Nothing added."

"Got it," she replied tersely, turning and watching with hidden anxiousness as Madara stood just beyond the entryway, removing his boots, glancing around curiously. She kept her eyes on Madara as she moved into the kitchen, not needing to look at what she was doing as she put a kettle over the stove and pulled a tray of rolls from the oven.

"A friend," she said as she prepared three cups of tea, "I didn't catch your name?"

Madara rose to his full height as he strode past the modest living area to the window. His dark stare swept over the streets beyond the glass, recognising the tea house he'd spoken with Sakura in only a few blocks away. To the side, he noticed pictures of Sakura hung proudly on the walls, clearly lacking siblings; there was a picture of her with a certificate for her title as a doctor, and several of her as a fairly adorable child, scowling at the camera beside her beaming mother and father. He blinked at the photos, then turned his head as there was a muted crash behind a nearby shut door.

Sakura's mother scowled as the man from the wall photos emerged from the sliding door with a good-natured laugh. "Mebuki! My clumsiness got the best of me again. Where's the broom?"

"What did you break this time, Kizashi?" she groused, grabbing a towel, and Kizashi made an apologetic face, sweeping into the kitchen and pressing a quick kiss into Mebuki's cheek before accepting the broom and dustpan she'd summoned for him. "Just that one flower pot by the far window. It was so close to the end table, I was adjusting something and elbowed it…"

"That's my best pothos vine!" she shot back before sighing, snatching back the broom and dustpan and prodding Kizashi, pointing towards the dark shadow that was Madara where he was looking on by the living room window. "I'll take care of the plant. You entertain our guest."

"Guest?"

"A friend of Sakura's, apparently." Mebuki disappeared into the next room as Kizashi picked up the tray of teacups. He walked around and set it upon the kotatsu table before offering Madara a beaming smile. "Good afternoon. It's always a pleasure to meet friends of Sakura's. She sure does meet some interesting varieties of people through her job." He inclined his head politely, his smile genuine. "I'm Haruno Kizashi, Sakura's father."

Madara nodded in return, accepting a cup of tea. Dark robes rustled beneath his wild black hair as he settled beside the kotatsu table. Kizashi sat across from him, taking his own tea. Madara did not offer his name, and Kizashi blinked at him curiously, reminded strongly of having seen someone like him before.

"You seem like a man of great importance," Kizashi commented. "How is it you know Sakura? Perhaps you met through her hospital position?"

Madara smirked into his tea. "No. We met through her job as a kunoichi."

"Ah… so you're involved with this war." Kizashi's good-natured smile fell somewhat. "We've been worried sick about her. It's so dangerous, being a kunoichi. We tried to discourage her from it, you know, but she was dead-set on becoming one… and now, there's a war." Kizashi sighed. "I'm just glad she was able to visit us so much more, at least until recently."

Madara hummed, setting his tea aside. "She visited you often since the dawn of the war?"

"Oh yes." Kizashi's smile returned. "She'd come almost weekly with tales of her adventures all summer. It didn't even sound like war for a while; she was back working at the hospital, as well as doing her kunoichi duties, and the long-term mission she keeps refusing to tell us much about. We did our best to eke more details from her, each visit, just happy she was telling us about her life and her friends, you know… and some of the stories she's shared! She's been happier than I ever remember even since she got her medical degree early. And—"

Kizashi paused before sitting up a little taller, and a serious expression settled over his face, though kindliness still crinkled the corners of his eyes. Leaning back slightly, he regarded Madara with increased interest, a new lens over his stare — he seemed to have connected something in his mind as he took in Madara's image.

Madara sat back with slightly narrowed eyes in silence, awaiting whatever accusation Kizashi might have come with while silently noting the information already given away. A shame; Sakura hadn't come back here since she'd been made to dismiss all of her clones, her original wise enough to keep her distance from this place now. The value of this visit was quickly dwindling with this knowledge now secured, though his curiosity at both the antics of Sakura's parents and whatever more information they might let slip had Madara staying where he was seated a little longer.

A small smile quirked the corner of Kizashi's lips before he took a sip of his tea, eyeing Madara with an unsubtle knowing look. Madara frowned back at him, disliking the way he was being regarded.

Mebuki strode back into the room, a dustpan full of broken terra-cotta and dirt in hand; she pretended not to be listening as she returned to the kitchen, washing dishes and dumping out the dustpan into the trash.

"Tell me," Kizashi finally said, still smiling slightly as he watched Madara. "Why did you come here today?"

Madara paused, recognising it would be unwise to inform Sakura's parents that she had gone fully missing the last several months. He inclined his head, amused and irritated simultaneously. "To check in upon her. You may have noticed her more infrequent visits, due to the war; some of us are — concerned." His disguised charcoal eyes glinted, his dark hair falling in jagged locks on either side of his face. "I would like to be informed, should you see her again. Sakura can be difficult to reach, and I am only ever worried for her well-being." He slid a small card face-down onto the table beside the cups of tea.

Mebuki was openly staring from where she stood in the kitchen. Kizashi's smile had slowly turned into a grin, and he set his tea aside, clasping his hands and taking a big breath before letting out his words in an excited rush. "I have to say I'm delighted there is a young man not only concerned for Sakura, but coming to call on her! We've heard so much about you. This is so very exciting that we get to meet you at last!" Kizashi sat up taller, utterly beaming. "Mebuki?" he interrupted himself, glancing back to her in the kitchen and gesturing at Madara with two eager, waving hands, "this — is the young man Sakura had been telling us about this summer."

Mebuki's eyes widened, her fingers digging into the dirty dish she held. "Oh," she said simply.

Kizashi returned his elated attention to Madara. "It's a pleasure to meet you indeed. You've been making her incredibly happy, which I'm sure you know." Kizashi set his hands on the table, his eyes bright. "If you've come to ask me that question, you don't need to. To see my daughter in love with someone who actually reciprocates her—"

"Kizashi!" Mebuki hissed from the kitchen, and Kizashi cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair with a laugh. "Sorry. Perhaps that was rude of me to say."

"We did not approve of her last interest," Mebuki explained carefully, setting the dish back in the sink.

Madara opened his mouth, then shut it, a mildly perplexed look on his face.

"Ah, yes, her obsession with Sasuke. It was unhealthy," Kizashi said, pouring fresh tea into his and Madara's cups. "We were relieved she moved on to you. She hasn't brought him up since, well, since you, I think. I do have to say, you look like him a little bit, so it seems she has a type? Hah!" Kizashi was beaming, his fingers hugging his cup as he nodded reassuringly at Madara. "Don't worry. You should be proud. You're a big upgrade from Sasuke no matter his fame! You don't need to be an Uchiha to be a worthy suitor for my daughter."

"Hn. Perhaps; however, my resemblance is not merely superficial," Madara said, sipping his tea, eyeing Mebuki and Kizashi to see if they possessed any ability to listen as he gave them an obvious hint. "I am a relative of his."

"You're an Uchiha? I hardly think so. Even if you look similar to Sasuke, you won't fool me like you must have fooled her." Mebuki came around from the kitchen, settling down beside Kizashi and folding her arms. "You look much older than Sakura." She scrutinised Madara with suspicion, leaning forward over the table with a stare like a scalpel scraping over his appearance with razored judgement. "What's your job? Do you make a good enough income to support her? You had better not be too old to give her a family. You should know she wants a family of her own very much. If you're seeing her simply for the fun she's said you've had together this summer then you had best disappear now, mister Uchiha 'relative'."

Kizashi's face had gotten blotchy with embarrassment, and he leaned into Mebuki with a hiss under his breath, flashing apologetic looks Madara's way. "That's a bit forward to ask, isn't it, honey?" he whispered to her behind a hand. "What does it matter since Sakura's so happy? I'm sure she's asked him these things. And he doesn't look that old," he said to her in a hushed tone.

Madara cleared his throat before rising to his feet. Simple but elegant robes rustled around his lean frame as he nodded towards Sakura's parents, hiding the amusement behind his dark eyes. "I appreciate your hospitality and the… interesting conversation, but I have other engagements I need to attend to."

A thunderous look appeared upon Mebuki's face. Understanding how she'd misinterpreted his words, Madara raised a brow. "Other plans," he clarified as he made his way to the entryway.

Kizashi appeared near Madara as he pulled on his boots, his smile returned and tea in hand. "I'd be glad to meet you again; you're welcome to come by any time. I know we would both love to see more of you and our Sakura."

"Hn." Madara rose to his full height before glancing back at Kizashi, who seemed only somewhat affected by Madara's dark, almost stifling presence; Kizashi's good-natured smile was kindly as he held the door open for Madara. "Please, remind me of your name," he said as Madara strode past him into the sunny day, "I am especially interested to know, if it's true that you're courting our daughter. I'd like to extend my thanks to you for bringing her some joy through these trying times. I only wish she had formally introduced you to us so much sooner." Kizashi glanced back at Mebuki where she stood with folded arms and a scowl. "Perhaps a few visits with you both before you and Sakura make it official," he amended quickly, "Mebuki and I should probably know more about you before giving you our full blessing."

Madara paused upon the doorstep, glancing back at Sakura's parents where they stood together in the open doorway. The two of them had irritated him, but he did not dislike them, and he debated the worth of telling them what they wanted to know.

"She did not tell you my name?" Madara asked, his narrowed stare subtly probing.

Kizashi shrugged. "No, only nicknames. I think she was shy to mention it, or something."

"Nicknames?" Madara's brows arched, and Mebuki prodded Kizashi with a scowl, scolding him. "Kizashi, you speak your mind too much! You have to hold your tongue sometimes… especially around Sakura's boyfriend! Who knows what he's really—"

They turned back, but Madara was already gone, the sunlit street empty where he had been moments before.