Soft voices in her memories, whispering past her in that wandering question; sweet, lingering. For a moment in time so brief she did not feel its passing, Sakura was formless, boundless, the question repeated drawing around her like a quilt of light.
What would you dream?
She blinked at the board on the wall, at the twin columns labelled for each room and where each occupying patients' name should be listed.
How could it be? None? None were listed for any of them, and for the first time she'd ever seen. Her coworkers were buzzing around her in a mad hubbub of chaos, not because they were busy, but in celebration of the very fact Sakura was recognising now.
The hospital was empty except for the cries of babies and mothers in the nearby maternity ward a short few paces away, which when Sakura turned around in a daze, she saw was full. No one dying… no one hurt; no death, only the creation of life.
Miraculous. Sakura walked forward down the hall, pushing her hands through her hair with a breezy exhale, her gaze skittering from wall to wall as she took in the situation. She had dreamed of this since her first day as a young student shadowing Tsunade.
She was beaming as she walked, bathing in the shared glow between herself and the other doctors and nurses making their way out past her. Sun shone through the windows; it was her favourite season outside, the midsummer afternoon humid and warm, clinging to her skin where it breathed through open panes and breezed through the doors as most of the staff were heading home to enjoy the rest of the day off.
How funny; a daydream she'd known was naive even then, come true. No one injured or ill? It was a laughable idea rendered so by the fact that their whole world revolved around the violence between shinobi, village versus village.
But not today. Sakura pushed a palm into her cheek, biting into her smile, her heart lifting through her ribcage as she removed her white doctor's coat. She turned down another corridor alive with staff switching things off and putting things away; the sounds of machines beeping, sharp scents of rubbing alcohol, and hushed murmurs between staff long familiar to her. Carried through the moment by an inexplicable acceptance of her situation, Sakura didn't question why or how she was here. It was a simple and easy reality she slipped into, like putting on worn, loved shoes; she was home in Konoha, everything was at peace, and she was having the most ideal day at her job that she could possibly imagine.
Other doctors were hanging up their coats in offices and side-rooms as more of the hospital emptied out, only those assigned to the maternity ward lingering. Sakura chose to do the same, dipping into her private office where a nameplate was tacked to the door in engraved metal, the title doctor freshly added before her name.
The door fell shut behind her with a quiet click. Taking in a breath scented with clean summer air and a hint of coffee from the small coffee maker she had near her desk, Sakura took a moment to appreciate her office, her heart abreeze in her chest and her mood light; she shut her eyes, feeling the touch of the sun through the wide set of open double-windows nearby.
She could taste the pollen-touched wind sighing into her office, billowing the white curtains drawn aside to let in her summer view; if she focused, she could also smell the tempting savoury odours of cookery floating up from the streets below where Konoha shopfronts, bars and restaurants bustled with lively, distant noise. Her stomach rumbled in response, eager for something comforting and hot; perhaps ramen.
With a muted smile to herself, Sakura glanced at her desk, assessing the stacks of papers and neat clutter with familiarity. She recognised the vase of colourful flowers as a recent gift from Ino. Framed photos lined the desk, and there were dulled, retired shuriken serving as paperweights for the files awaiting her attention. Several cards were neatly stood up beside the photos, shaded in pinks and whites, the heavy ink of multiple signatures and messages within them just visible from where she stood.
Near her desk chair that she draped her coat on was a small, modern chaise, its upholstery a pristine snowy colour she remembered consciously keeping her mugs of tea and coffee well away from. A smile danced around the corners of Sakura's lips as she regarded her office with another long, unhurried sweep of her eyes: it was the picture of what she'd always dreamed of having. Organised, comfortable, convenient, a place she could sleep in should her shift go too long, a place she could hide in should staff get too annoying, a refuge and a den for her to do her work and review her research in.
And was that a door almost hidden behind a hanging potted vine? Sakura glanced over, surprised she'd forgotten that her private office also happened to have a private balcony. She beamed, putting her hands on her hips. She moved to approach it, and paused, unsure if that was a flash of the sunlight or of a camera, or perhaps something else that had blurred past her open windows.
Dually Sakura noticed the well-worn perch affixed to the part of the balcony she could see; she blinked as she recognised the falcon that had just landed on it as an old friend she'd trained as her own for years now, its name turning over in her memory. The falcon preened with a relaxed manner, the sun warming her brown-white feathers in a healthy sheen, clearly comfortable with her long-established territory. Without consciously knowing how she knew this, Sakura understood that it was one of a trio of siblings, its brother and sister belonging to others she lived with back at home.
Hm. She put her hands on her hips, mouthing the name to herself. Sasaki. She couldn't quite remember why she'd named it that, the name making her memory stir with confusion and affection at once. Why did she know who that was in her gut? She couldn't recall any detail on how she'd known the falcon's namesake, her mind slurring in a pleasant haze like she was drunk without the dizziness.
In her pause, a single question managed to push through the happy haze covering her mind: how had she gotten here?
But the question was quickly forgotten as a very familiar jagged outline appeared outside of her balcony door. Sakura rushed towards it, her hand on the handle in moments, disallowing any more doubt from poking at her mind as she opened it immediately.
Madara leaned against the open doorframe, his arms folded; he peered down at Sakura while she beamed up at him. "How'd you know? My day is finished early." She was almost bouncing with her delight, and she didn't think anything odd of how his eyes were matching Rinnegans, his forehead visor of bone missing and his robes that of traditional dark Uchiha garb rather than Six Paths robes or armour.
Neither did he as he stepped forward, taking her arm and sliding into her office with easy familiarity. "You have an appointment still that you cannot miss," he commented as he pulled her with him, glancing around her office; Sakura took a sharp breath through her teeth. "Oh, you're right. I nearly forgot! Are you—" She glanced up at him, raising her brows, "you're coming with me to that? I think they expect me to come alone."
"They will deal with it."
Sakura hummed, unperturbed. She trailed her fingers along her doctor's coat, slung along her chair, before shaking her head — she didn't need to make her image any more professional for this appointment. She wouldn't be speaking with impressionable strangers.
As Madara strode past her with wild silver-white hair adrift around his shoulders, pulling open the office door, Sakura blinked oddly at his back, struck again by the weird feeling that had tried to permeate through her earlier. The feeling was persistent, though it couldn't put forth a name for itself through the happy haze over her mind — some breed of dubiousness, a deep nagging pull almost like dread that churned in the depths of her gut like she was nauseous. It was what birthed the questions that occasionally pushed through into her head, interrupting her surface thoughts again. Where am I? How am I here? Something's wrong.
Sakura shook her head at herself, the fog over her mind easily allowing the answers to come to her. She was at work, in Konoha, as she always was during the weekdays. Nothing was wrong.
She strode over to where Madara awaited her by the door, sliding her fingers over his sleeve and offering him a saccharine smile. He had a subtle upturn about his lips, metallic eyes catching the scattered sunlight. "You seem… absent-minded," he observed, not immediately shifting to leave the room as Sakura drew up at his side with hesitant confidence, tucking her hair behind her ears.
"Yeah. I think I'm just nervous." She glanced out beyond her office, somewhat unnerved but still mostly relieved at the sight of the near-empty hospital corridors. It was eerily quiet, her office removed enough from the busy maternity ward that where she stood was wrapped in an orb of silence; it was strange not to hear the methodical beeping of heart monitors and bustling staff nearby, only the noise of wall-mounted fans and air conditioning running beneath the quiet past her office. A clock on the wall ticked softly; the sound of a door shutting echoed down the tiled hall, fading into the neat sterile walls and empty patient rooms. Sakura's brows twitched, her heart still light but that feeling churning again in her gut with stronger unease.
"Your anxiety is unbidden. The outcome of your meeting is more than obvious." Pulled from her pensiveness, Sakura turned her head back towards Madara behind her, her attention flicking up to gladly drown in the metallic glint of his gaze. His shadow blocked out the sunlight behind him as he stood tall, an arm against the top of the doorway of the office behind him, the open door tilting against his back. In the cool jagged shade he cast her in, Sakura shut her eyes, her smile ghosting across her lips and her eyelids fluttering as gloved fingers appeared along the curve of her jaw, sliding down along her throat and disappearing once more. Her skin burned after Madara's fleeting touch, tingling and rashed with goosebumps.
Drawn upwards through his gravity she happily surrendered to, Sakura leaned up, her nose brushing his as she breathed in his words that had softened into an inviting, dangerous murmur. "We have enough time, should you need a pleasant distraction beforehand." They became both silently aware of the privacy of her office just within reach, of the comfortable stretch of the chaise only a few paces away.
Regardless of knowing they'd be unlikely to be caught with most of the staff having gone home, a heady thrill scorched through Sakura, a delighted shiver shaking her figure as she made a slightly uneven laugh. She pecked a kiss against the corner of Madara's crooked smirk before consciously pulling out of his grip, stepping back into the relative safety of the open hall. "Knowing us, we'd end up ditching the meeting if we indulge," Sakura sighed, glancing either direction to make sure they were alone anyway. "We should go now rather than take the risk. I'll look bad if I'm absent or late to this one…"
Unperturbed by her rejection, Madara strode after Sakura as she led the way to the stairwell, moving past her to ascend the steps; she walked after him, fanning her slightly red face with a hand. She shot Madara a dirty look as his teasing voice echoed down to her. "But you are tempted."
Straightening her bright red qipao and flicking away clinging lint, Sakura made a moody huff, jabbing Madara in the back with a good-natured grumble. "Of course I am," she was complaining as they made their way up the stairwell, footsteps bouncing off against the cemented walls. "I'm starting to think you're here just to sabotage me. You've done it before just to amuse yourself. I thought you were busy with all your council meetings? Not like I really mind you visiting me at work."
"Council meetings do not require anything more than a spare clone; you know this." A hand glanced down Sakura's back and lingered along her hip; she let out a low sigh as the two of them strode upwards together. "It might be a tedious, mind-numbing amalgamation of busywork to baby our newest Hokage in advising and supervising his decisions; but still, nothing a clone cannot handle." Madara narrowed his eyes at Sakura, his tone darkening in a way that had her ears heating red like her cheeks. "Besides… should I have come here with intent to sabotage your work through such a method, it would only be vengeance for when you've done the same to me."
Sakura reddened further at the decidedly adult memory that came to mind. She quickly waved her hands dismissively. "That was for your birthday! Not a regular thing. Don't bring that up in public…"
"Your coworkers are not present; I'll speak as plainly as I please."
"Absolutely not!" Sakura huffed as their steps slowed, the two of them stopping before a shut stairwell door for the third floor. She changed the subject quickly, taking Madara's arm again as she talked. "You're a clone right here and now, too," Sakura accused lightly, nudging Madara in the side. "Your original's probably at home. And I wouldn't be surprised if you had like three more clones out doing other errands and visits throughout Konoha and wherever else."
Madara hummed, a single pale brow arching. "Your point?"
"I can't complain." She shrugged. "I'm just jealous I can't be quite as efficient. I'm not up for putting out clones everywhere like I did back before the end of the war. I don't like having to keep track of them all. I mean, don't you get tired?..."
Sakura squeaked as she was suddenly backed up against the shut door, Madara's metallic eyes aflash as he overshadowed her with a nasty grin. "You are aware more than anyone else could be as to how my stamina is endless."
She seized his robes in her fists, pulling him down closer to her with blazing cheeks and a furious hiss. "You are sabotaging this meeting! You're being like this just to tempt me away and make me late, or, miss the whole thing entirely! Madara—"
"No, I simply enjoy reclaiming your company. I wouldn't allow you to miss your appointment."
"Let's do it now, then, before I… before I—"
The door behind them shook slightly as the two of them slammed against it, mouths meeting furiously. Her fingers raked through his wild hair; his rough palms took hold of her waist, pushing her harder against the metal door and denting it. Her calves hitched around his back, and tongues met with exchanged breaths through open mouths meeting in unrestrained, edged liplocks.
Sakura managed a vivid curse between kisses before shoving roughly at Madara, though she kept hold of him, her legs tangled around his obi and her hair unkempt over her flushed face. Blowing several pink strands out of her view, she searched Madara's burning, narrowed eyes, breathing hard. "Dammit, I meant the meeting. Not this. Shit." She leaned up and tasted the smug upturn of his lips, tightening her knees around his waist in frustration. "You just love tormenting me. Incubus."
"Yes… yes, I do," Madara agreed with a grin, and he removed himself from Sakura easily, watching her scramble to catch herself before she glowered at him with an unsteady huff. He eyed her without apology or remorse as she straightened out her ruffled clothing, pushing her hands through her hair, adjusting her qipao and reclasping its collar. "Sly bastard," she muttered as she also fixed her shorts.
The two of them were calm once more as they pushed through the door into another quiet, sterile hospital hallway. In companionable silence they approached a set of shut double-doors. The hand Madara traced along her back was unhurried; Sakura stood close to him, her heart light as a free bird, fluttering in her chest. She'd acted indignant with him before, but in her heart she was glad he'd come to accompany her, feeling much more steady and grounded with him calm and unhesitant at her side. She suspected he understood this, and he didn't question her pause before opening the door either, standing and staring between her feet and the door handle as she listened to the pounding of her heartbeats.
But it wasn't anticipation for the meeting that had halted Sakura — it was that feeling again, now more like panic, and it had nothing to do with anything around her but the entire situation she was in, itself.
Sakura froze up with it for a moment. No matter her self-reassurances earlier, something was wrong. Something gravely important that she couldn't identify well enough to name, and the haze over her mind fought against her buried panic like she wasn't supposed to be questioning her surroundings. It was as if addressing her inexplicable doubts was disallowed by something. What was it that she was missing? Why did everything that was happening have a sort of filmy layer around it that told her it was wrong, when all the details within felt so right?
The reminder of how right it was deepened with the hand tracing along her back, rough fingertips loved and long-familiar. Sakura shut her eyes, the constriction around her heart for Madara squeezing tightly in response. In the warmth flooding through her, she was able to escape the stressful doubts churning with increasing urgency within her, forcing her somewhat frazzled and hazy mind to refocus upon the doors ahead of her.
Even as she pushed the doors aside and stepped through with resolve, a single clarified doubt rose like bile in the back of her throat, tainting the smile Sakura deposited along her expression; this time, it wasn't a question. You're not supposed to be here.
Sakura was waving a hand as she and Madara strode out of the conference room, laughing lightly. "Oh, don't flatter me. I wasn't totally sure that's what they'd determine. I do think I'll accept…"
He held the door open, and let go of it after Sakura strode through; it was caught shortly by a pale hand as two others followed her and Madara, joining them in the hall. Madara stood back with a scowl as Tsunade prodded Sakura sternly. "You had better accept. With your skills, it would be a shameful waste for you not to be the hospital's director. You have too much potential, Sakura. Why would you even give accepting the position a second thought?"
"Parenthood," came Madara's growled response, and Sakura nodded in agreement with him, though she was flushed with excitement. She gave another dismissive wave, Tsunade putting her hands on her hips while Sakura spoke in an eager rush. "It's okay. We're both ambitious but we're both, um, energetic. We'll manage full-time jobs and a family just fine." She stood back, her eyes bright and full of confidence. Imperious and haughty in his manner, Madara regarded Sakura's two mentors with narrowed, subtly mistrusting eyes, though he didn't interrupt Sakura's words. "I'm excited to have more time to do research, as director. And having a hand in higher-level decisions will be so valuable."
Tsunade nodded to her silent company, her tension easing; he clasped his white-pale hands with calm delight, slitted golden eyes glittering. "Exactly. There is no sense in having a brilliant mind waste away in a basic doctor's position or in housework alone when you should be putting your wits to work in research. Just like old times, Sakura." Orochimaru's sly gaze shifted to Madara, who glared back at him.
"Just… above ground this time," Sakura laughed lightly. She tugged at Madara's arm, passing a warm glance to her two mentors, soon to be her research partners rather than her bosses. "You'll have my acceptance letter by tomorrow morning. I can promise you that."
Tsunade nodded, waving at Sakura as she walked with Orochimaru down the hallway, her tone amiable through her mild ire as she spoke with her old friend. "Good. Then this is settled. Orochimaru, go get Jiraiya, would you? I need a drink and good company. I'll see the both of you at the usual place. Shizune!" and Shizune appeared beside her, Tonton in hand; soon all of them were out of sight, and Sakura as well, her shadow augmented with Madara's as the two of them descended the nearby stairs in a swift exit.
They strode out into the sunny day with matching confident strides. Stares casting over to them as they walked together didn't linger long upon the accepted sight; the shock value of Sakura being with Madara long worn off. Their faces were no longer featured in the newspapers upon stands they passed by, instead plastered with Naruto's happy grin beneath his wide-brimmed Hokage hat.
"You said you have to baby Naruto," Sakura said as she walked companionably with Madara, her fingers squeezing along his dark sleeve. She nudged his shoulder with her nose pressing into his robes as she briefly met his eyes, not having to think about it for their feet to move in unison through the crowded street. Passersby moved respectfully out of their path; heads inclined as their eyes swept over others' faces, an almost kindly sense of awe surrounding them that neither paid mind to. "Is he not doing well so far?" she was questioning Madara, one hand toying with the wild shock of silver-white hair swishing from side to side down his tall back. "I thought he'd be well-suited to being Hokage, after wanting that position for so long."
"He has the right instincts and constitution for most parts of it." Madara exhaled with a weariness Sakura felt too, stretching her free arm to crack her knuckles before leaning her head along his side. "However; his allergy to paperwork is childish," Madara went on with a brief, annoyed gesturing flick of his other hand. "One must be willing to work intelligently and with zeal in all aspects of such a position as Hokage, should they wish to excel."
Sakura nodded; Madara's tone roughened into a grumble. "In this way, Naruto is too much like Hashirama. It is clear they are related."
Sakura's giggle carried through the street, bouncing away into the warm summer skies growing heavier with gold as the afternoon carried closer to early evening. "You can't judge either of them too harshly. You hate paperwork, too," Sakura teased, pushing against Madara's side and causing them both to sway slightly as they walked. "Don't try to tell me you wouldn't also rather be battling somewhere, rewriting the face of the map."
"Hmm…" Madara eyed Sakura with a half-grin hidden beneath a loose lock of silvery hair. "You tempt me, now, with such a suggestion." He glanced out over the rooftops, northeast. "No one would miss the Hidden Cloud village. Let us take a day off and let off some steam."
Sakura gasped, shoving at him hard enough to push them both into a side-street in a near-stumble. He let her pull him into an inconspicuous shadow as she pressed a hand hard over her stomach with her held-back laughter. "Madara! You can't say stuff like that. People will think you're serious."
"I do not care what people think." Madara's words echoed in either direction; he was smiling crookedly with a mean glint in his metallic eyes as Sakura stretched her arms up around his shoulders, leaning up against him and pressing him back against the rough wooden panels of the alley wall. "I was being perfectly serious," Madara informed her with a smug sort of leer, his fingers snaking suggestively around her curvaceous hips. "It would only be healthy to release some tension."
"I'm the doctor here, soon-to-be director," Sakura countered him with a soft huff, the humid air around them warm with scents of streetside cookery and the heated summer day. She jabbed at his chest with a stern finger, though her scowl was skin-deep. "I determine what's healthy. Stomping a village into the ground for fun isn't good for anyone. Even if the Raikage is, well… my least favourite Kage."
"Incorrect. That would be Tobirama."
"Living Kage!"
"We could change that, too."
"Is this the kind of advice you give while on the council?!"
Madara's dark chuckle had her shivering; gloved fingers hooked in the belt loops of her shorts, making a sharp warning-tug that had Sakura hissing a half-hearted protest while he spoke. "Someone has to have the stones to suggest harsher courses of action when necessary. However, no; I do not tell your peace-obsessed friend to commit senseless murder without a justifying cause."
"You sure?" With her hands secured over his devious fingers, Sakura leaned up against his chest, smiling against his cheek and breathing in his smoky pine-hinted scents; as Madara loomed over her further, both of their faces were shadowed in the falls of his jagged mane sliding forward past their features. "Hmph. Stones. Funny you bring that up when something about as hard as stone is in your pocket right now." She released his hands, her breath hitching as his grip seized her slim waist in vicious eagerness to take full advantage of her unspoken signal of consent. She stopped breathing entirely as his teeth scraped her ear with his low hiss, thumbs dragging her shorts downwards enough to reveal a breadth of pale, creamy skin flushing with warmth. "Then I suggest you waste no more time with words and we—"
Children's voices spiralled down the alleyway. Madara and Sakura disappeared in a whirl of robes just in time for a group of genin to scramble down the cobblestones on clumsy feet, chasing after a yowling cat. Perching on the nearby rooftop together, they peered down into the alley with narrowed eyes, watching.
The fugitive cat wore a collar with a bell and a name tag, yowling louder as the genin made chase; the absconded pair rolled their eyes in unison. Kids on one of their first missions, no doubt. It had Sakura smiling, remembering her own genin days, and she poked Madara with a happy little hum. "Doesn't it make you happy to see it? Your old dream from when you were a kid yourself, brought to life."
"Children in shinobi training rather than at war? Yes. However…" Madara rose to his feet, pulling Sakura with him; she cleared her throat, rubbing the heat from her cheeks with a sigh. "Kids have a way of interrupting things."
The two of them leapt back down into the street, pink and white hair streaming behind them and billowing around their faces when they landed gracefully on their feet. In comfortable silence they strode forward together once more, Sakura content to her bones while Madara walked with a rankling scowl, annoyed at their alley encounter's interruption. Sun tempered with amber from the late afternoon turning into evening fell over them in cloaks of faded orange, outlining their twined frames; their hair drifted in the warm, humid-heavy breeze. The sign-covered peopled streets around them were less crowded as busy civilians and shinobi alike made their way into the well-lit, noisy expanses of the many open-air bars and restaurants that opened their doors to the evening. The skies darkened with violet-azure, the speckling stars becoming just visible beyond the veil of the fading day, and with the rising happy din of the bustling streets and lively early-evening scene came sounds of music and voices painting the air with warmth of another kind. Unafraid of showing such affection in public, Sakura leaned her head along Madara's shoulder as she soaked in the joys of her surroundings, causing his shadowed Rinnegan eyes to flick to her, his scowl softening.
She didn't lift her head until she heard a familiar twittering; she and Madara paused outside of the storefront of a small bakery. Several birds flew past their heads, landing upon the open window sills that let out a medley of rich, savoury and sweet smells. Colourful, bright orange print on the sign hanging out front advertised Jugo's bakery in fresh paint, slightly smattered with black and white bird droppings. A head of spiky hair in the same colour of the sign lifted, the clanking and chopping of ongoing cooking loud in their ears. Sakura waved cheerily back at Jugo before she and Madara continued on their way through the street.
"Happiest he's ever been. Best thing he did was start his business," Sakura commented to him as they walked. Madara hummed. "Best matcha cakes too."
"He's mentioned he sells out of dango almost daily. I'm sure I can guess why, or really who buys it all," Sakura chuckled, knowing well that Obito would be closer to Choji's size at this point if he didn't have the metabolism he did. He kept himself active between missions, as well, helping to train young new shinobi in taijutsu alongside Might Guy and Rock Lee. Stories of his antics being mischievous with Kamui were frequent, Obito's nature having become more unapologetically playful and troublesome in his sense of humour much like Naruto's or Kakashi's. In the years of peace since the war, since he'd accepted his second chance at life, his happiness had brought him closer to his former false image of Tobi but in a genuine way, and long unmasked. Sakura hummed with her reminiscing, almost unaware of her smile until it fell.
Years of peace since the war.
Sakura stopped still, causing Madara beside her to have to halt as well; he glanced down at her in confusion as she stared blankly at the street. The war wasn't over. What was she thinking? Peace was well out of reach. There was still something she had to do to get there.
Right? She reached up, rubbing her temples, getting stressed again. Had she gone crazy? Why did she know that Konoha had been at peace for years? How did she know it and why did she feel so sure in her gut that the war was not at its end?
Sakura looked up at Madara, seeking reassurance. He eyed her with some concern, a knot between his brows. "Am I having an Infinite Tsukuyomi dream?" she asked him frankly, her heart binding tightly with suddenly freed stress. She dug into his arm with an angry grip, though her anger was confused and scared. "Is this… is this all just a lie, an ideal life from your jutsu? Is that why I've been so doubtful and confused? Madara, tell me the truth. Please."
The theory lined up behind her eyes as she searched his pale features. It made sense with the strange panic she felt, the unease beneath her inexplicable certainties that this world around her was correct when she also knew in her heart that it wasn't. It would explain what had frazzled and upended her emotions in these episodes of doubt between her moments of joy.
Sakura's pulse sunk through her, tight and fast, as she held Madara's matching Rinnegan stare. It must be true. In events she couldn't remember, everything must have gone wrong. He had decided against keeping her free of his jutsu and he had cast her into the Infinite Tsukuyomi with all the others to dream an enslaved, happy dream. He had abandoned her… won the war, and abandoned her to this fake world of joy, left her to love this echo of his true self that she'd invented within her own mind.
Tears welled up in Sakura's eyes; tears that gloved fingers drew away gently, and she was crying in silence as he bent to her, tilting her face against his with a sigh. "No…" Madara rumbled with easy, unruffled confidence, pulling her against him in a slow, cautious embrace, "no, this is not an Infinite Tsukyomi dream. Breathe, Sakura…" She buried herself in his grip, her shoulders hunched as she held back sobs in her panic. He secured his grip around her, his nose brushing against her ear as he soothed her, the two of them standing in the middle of the street. "It is not the eternal dream. I can promise you; it is not."
She listened to his words, letting the familiar deep calm of his presence and his voice soothe and warm her. Trying to smooth the cadence of her breaths, Sakura hugged Madara tightly. He cupped the back of her head, fingers sliding through pink strands as he spoke into her ear. "Do not let this fear overtake you. Yes… breathe deeply; calm yourself." He himself had tensed, and he relaxed as she did, gradually. Her inhales drew in time with his; he softened around her, and her tears began to dry against his dark robes as she held him to her, drowning her circling mind in his smoky scents and body heat.
"I will choose to take it as a compliment," Madara murmured, Sakura shivering from the slow tracing of his fingers down the curve of her spine, "that you would find our life as ideal as that of the one my jutsu would have given you."
She nodded, drawing back. She shut her eyes, tasting his cheek in a chaste kiss, her skin tickling as his wild hair fell around their features; she leaned into his hand against her face. Sakura released a breath through her nose that was pressed into his cheek, her eyes fluttering open as heat burned in her chest, hot enough that her grip dug heatedly in along his sides in a remembrance of that electricity ever-dancing between their bodies. It had distracted her from her emotions in a jolt of desire, and she met Madara's analytical glance with a half-lidded gaze, her thoughts pulling towards dangerous territory before she blinked back into the recognition that they were out in the middle of a public street.
They released each other, pulling back somewhat. That warm haze had returned behind the verdant green of Sakura's gaze, and she swallowed hard as she stared back up at him, drawing back to at least a semi-appropriate distance from Madara while the two of them stood in the heart of crowded Konoha. She squeezed his hand with gratefulness: he'd eased away her panic.
Feeling better, she turned with him back towards the way they had been going. As long as he was with her, he'd be able to pull her away from her strange doubts. She was sure of it, and Sakura cast away her frightening Infinite Tsukuyomi theory without further pause, annoyed she'd been doubting the idyllic world around her in the first place.
They arrived at the foot of the huge arena, stopping to crane their necks and briefly admire the heights of it — the grand stage it was for the annual chūnin exams taking place at this very moment and probably about to wrap up with the coming of evening. Perhaps they might be able to watch the last fight as the evening's entertainment, and with an exchange of glances, Madara and Sakura strode through the entry doors without further hesitation, unworried about any possible requirement of having tickets or invitation.
The couple at the front desk was more than familiar, and Sakura waved with both hands in her eagerness while Madara rolled his eyes affectionately at her returned energy. "My favourite pair of idiots! How are you guys doing? Especially you, Karin?"
Karin leaned back in her chair, pushing her glasses up her nose and scoffing good-naturedly. "Sakura, I told you to lay off with any medical concerns. Unless you're saying 'especially you' just out of friendly concern. I'm doing just fine." She blinked. "Also, you're way too late to see the exams. They're finishing up now."
Suigetsu nodded, his mood perpetually buoyant. He stretched his arms back behind his head, regarding Sakura with visible contentedness. He had an aura of pridefulness around his smug, toothy smile and a slight weariness around the corners of his violet eyes. "Number two," he explained unnecessarily as Sakura's eyes widened upon Karin's somewhat rounded belly. "What! Congratulations!"
Before either of them could say anything more, Sakura slammed both hands on the front desk before them, leaning forward with bright, sharp eyes switching between them. "How did having your first go? You were supposed to tell me! I was planning on being there to help in case your own doctor is no good! Don't tell me you went without one at all out of pride? Having your baby at home without help is dangerous!" Her questions were a frustrated, excited blur, giving neither a chance to answer as she released them all at once. "And how many weeks along are you already, Karin? Suigetsu, did you even give her a break after the first one? Karin, you aren't pushing yourself too much, right? Why are you here right now instead of at home? Even a desk job can be strenuous. And what did you name your first? You guys…!"
"We're volunteering for the chūnin exams, of course. Gotta represent." Karin grinned toothily in a fashion she'd clearly picked up from Suigetsu. "You should see the setup we have at home. Fumiko's got a nicer tank than the piranhas. I swear she's already better at swimming than—"
"TANK?!" Sakura's shriek echoed throughout the entry hall over Madara's chuckle behind her; he stood out of the way as she waved her hands in furious gestures at Karin and Suigetsu, who shrugged. "I mean, she's a Hozuki, she breathes and is water just like me. Turns out she preferred a sort of open tank rather than a crib. And with all the chakra she'll have from being an Uzumaki too—"
"YOU CAN'T KEEP A BABY IN A TANK!" Sakura was screaming, jumping up and down in her fury. "A BABY IS NOT A PET FISH, GODDAMMIT!"
"Want to meet her?" Suigetsu picked up something at his side; a makeshift backpack, but it was a small tank with straps, sloshing and slightly aglow. When he lifted it high enough, a little baby was visible, peeking through the glass with wide violet eyes matching Suigetsu's. She swam in an absurd little circle, making a tiny wave with her little fingers, clearly comfortable and happy — the exact opposite of Sakura, who was turning redder by the second.
"...Good luck with that," Madara interjected, turning Sakura by the arm with him and tugging her along with him as he had the two of them make their exit. "Those idiots!" she was venting as they reemerged into the sunny day. "Hozuki water-clan affinities or whatever, I can't believe they're parenting like that — that they'd…!"
"Yes, yes," Madara agreed behind a hidden amused smile. "It's time we return home, ourselves." Sakura relaxed at this, tucking herself back against his side with a heavy sigh. "I'd love to. What a long day."
The route they took led them back through the heart of the village, cutting past side-streets to the main road, the Hokage tower casting a long shadow over the rooftops and peopled sidewalks. Sakura smiled up at the sight of Naruto's face carved in to the mountaintop right beside Tsunade's, her gaze lingering upon the high lit windows of what was now his office near the top of the Hokage tower. She hoped to herself he was working hard, but not too hard. Perhaps he and Shikamaru or one of his many other friends were having ramen at Ichiraku's for dinner, or perhaps he was catching up on paperwork, lamenting its boring nature while Kakashi supervised him with Icha Icha book in hand.
She and Madara narrowly dodged another conversation as the two of them passed Ino by just outside of her flower shop where she was happily fending off multiple suitors, fanning her pink cheeks. There was a line of customers leading out from the shop, joy sparkling in her blue eyes as she happily rejected the group of men competing for her attention, showing off the flashy ring on her finger.
They turned their heads at the shouts down the other end of the street; Rock Lee and Might Guy being their usual selves, yelling their gaudy but genuine sentiments of positivity as they sparred in a nearby training field, flashes of their matching jumpsuits visible as blurs of green. When she looked to the other side of the street, Sakura spotted Tenten, having tea with Neji in a little street-cafe, swapping whispers behind their hands. Sakura's gaze flickered oddly as she saw Neji, like she should be remembering something about him; but the odd feeling dissipated again as she and Madara continued onwards, her hand folding into his and lifting her heart once more with a deep-reaching joy.
Glancing back, she could spot the bar she knew Tsunade liked best, the one with gambling; and if she listened hard enough, she could hear Tsunade's voice rising through the happy noise of the streets, accompanied by Orochimaru and Jiraiya's laughter. Without being there, Sakura could feel her happiness, lively and reaching deep like the safety and bliss that smothered the Konoha streets. The feeling was complicated and widespread between so many different people, yet simple at once: peace, at its best.
Sakura absorbed the feeling of Konoha around her, alive and lively, colourful and vivid. There were too many sensations to take in, and she turned her attention back to the one at her side, letting the joy paint her heartbeats and warm her bones. Just as she exchanged passing greetings with friends and comrades, Madara nodded occasionally to some who walked by; respected elders, some of the higher-class jonin, and she also knew that he was considered a widely-respected elder himself, even if he didn't look like one. His legendary status had lost its sinister background, his name a whisper made with wonder rather than fear as he made his appearance in the heart of Konoha. Madara's presence was welcomed, accepted; unflinchingly beloved, and Sakura was known and regarded on a similar wavelength, seen almost as a part of him with how they were rarely separated.
She'd never admit it to herself, but she also loved the feeling of being eye-candy, confident in her beauty and strength as well as widely-famous potent reputation. It went both ways — every eye magnetised to Madara's powerful, attractive presence at her side, someone only she would dare consider eye-candy of her own. She had earned her place here, and she enjoyed it. Confident and unabashed by the constant curious and jealous attention of others, Sakura held her head high, endlessly proud of them both.
She didn't question how she knew all of this as they reached the elegant painted gates of their home, a compound built only a block apart from the Hokage tower in the center of Konoha's thriving sprawl. Sakura felt only an aching sense of belonging and joy as she and Madara ascended their home's steps, removing their sandals before stepping into the cool breath of their home. She already knew that the large wing to the left was their section of the Uchiha compound; other sections had rooms belonging to the others in the clan, mainly Sasuke and Obito. There were many rooms empty with future plans for future clan members; room to grow.
They followed the familiar halls without a word, and only parted when they reached the open door to an unlit room, soft with shadow. Sakura stopped still in the doorway, drawing up tall, her hands pressing tightly over her heart as if to try and slow its rapid beating.
Her ears tingled from tiny, happy sounds; of tiny shuffling feet kicking at swaddling cloth and little grasping fingers making shadows on the wall as Madara bent over something, picking up the source of the happy little sounds with gentle caution.
He turned, and as his glowing metallic eye caught Sakura's stare, her heart fell to the pads of her feet. It melted into the tatami mats as she brought her intense gaze from Madara to the contented little baby he held in his arms.
Dark hair poked up in short tufts across the baby's head, contrasting her wide, blinking green eyes. She noticed Sakura, and made a toothless little smile, waving her arms in an inexplicable happy gesture.
"Oh," Sakura managed, finding herself so spellbound that she could not move but to stare at hers and Madara's child. He said nothing, understanding, his attention in the same harmony as hers as both of their gazes settled upon their newborn in a long moment of sweet, joyful silence.
After a long pause he turned and set the baby in her crib. Sakura stepped forward, and she magnetised to his side, tilting her face into Madara's shoulder and wrapping her arms around him in a heartfelt embrace. Her throat was tight and tears spilled freely from her eyes as she buried herself in his arms, feeling completely overwhelmed.
It felt like he was holding her up from falling into a chasm of emotions as they stood together. Her heart kicked back into gear as she felt his nose brushing along her ear, his patient hand sliding up along her back in a wordless gesture of soothing he'd understood she needed.
Sakura didn't know what she felt anymore, squeezing her eyes shut and pressing her face into Madara's dark robes. Her initial feelings of spellbound wonder and relief had been tainted with that perpetual dubiousness she couldn't name but only question. She tried to breathe, but found she couldn't, the panic seizing up within her again. When had the two of them had a child? How had they come to this point, not only starting a family, but within this incredible peacetime where Konoha lacked problems or strife completely?
It felt like Sakura had been granted her most fervent, beautiful daydream, and she pressed her face deeper into warm, smoke-scented fabric along his shoulder, breathing Madara in and pulling him more tightly against her as she tried not to let herself panic. It was difficult to give coherence to her doubts, the haze over her brain still thick and relentless like a curtain that could not be drawn away; but she knew she could not dismiss her doubts anymore. The feeling that something was off was too strong, rooted too deep, and it continued to churn in her gut regardless of the wonderful sights around her.
Next to where she and Madara stood in companionable quiet, their baby made a soft babble; enough to remind her she was there, and Sakura's fingers fisted in his robes, her shoulders seizing up. Suddenly she couldn't look over, couldn't bear to witness the sight of this child, and her tears were no longer from joy, but from how upset she had become. This was — what was it?
The word pierced through the fog over her mind at long last: forbidden. To see Madara in a domestic setting with her; to see Konoha at peace like this again, and to see her own child — these things were forbidden to Sakura, not in their nature, but in that she had not earned them. She hadn't yet managed to bridge her reality into such a hopeful future. There was something she was still supposed to do.
The haze drifted as if to blind her again with the bliss of her situation once more, but Sakura clenched her teeth, tense from head to toe: no. She knew something was wrong with her situation and she'd find out what it was. She'd fix it. She wouldn't let go of this until she'd earned what had been unduly given to her in this fever dream.
Madara's deep hum pulled Sakura from her thoughts, and as she drew back to say something, the sounds of nearby fighting had her stiffening with horror. Was someone in danger in their own home?
She hurried forward, pulling back a sliding door, the nearby baby asleep in her crib once more. Sakura rushed out onto a shaded outdoor walkway, her alarmed eyes wide upon the courtyard where two figures ebbed and flowed around each other in blurs of fists and swirling black robes.
Obito laughed as he dodged a kick, landing hard in the dirt. Swerving, he blocked a punch and swung to avoid another kick. "Better, but you've got a lot of work to do."
The black-haired kid he was sparring let out a huff, his obsidian eyes sharp in the sunny light of the courtyard. "Not fair. You're supposed to go easy on me."
"Hn." Sakura startled slightly as Madara appeared once more at her side. The two of them looked on from the shadow of the doorway, him with easy calm from the familiar scene and her with wide eyes as Obito scoffed at the Uchiha child's words. "Nice try. You know as well as me that your old man wants you doing your best so that you grow up strong, not 'taking it easy'. Being at the top of your class doesn't mean you don't have to work hard — now let's spar again, and this time, use those moves I showed you."
But the boy paused. He looked over, meeting Sakura's eye. She was frozen, taking in his image with stricken wonder.
While the crooked grin he made was an eerie mirror of Madara's own, it was Sakura's nose and ears he had, the same shape around his face, a beautiful young Uchiha made in the combination of their images lit in the bright sunlight of the beautiful afternoon, and Sakura was stepping backwards now, shaking her head. No. She shouldn't be seeing this. She shouldn't be here.
"Sakura?" Both Madara and Obito watched her with looks of mild concern. She retreated into an attached hallway, avoiding the baby's room, panic pushing through her pulse. In her stress, the questions were coming more easily now, cutting through the haze over her mind. What was happening? How had she gotten here? Why was she in this dream?
She stayed where she was as Madara advanced upon her from a nearby doorway, his shadow overcoming her in the narrow hallway. She held her ground, instinctively leaning into him with half-shut eyes as he drew his gloved hand along her cheek in an easy caress, wanting to be soothed out of her panic while knowing that she shouldn't be. "You are weary… you need rest. It will solve your undue stress."
Sakura shut her eyes, enchanted by the thoughtful touch of Madara's fingers along her features, the warmth in his tone familiar, deep, and steady.
She didn't acknowledge this time how the haze across her mind thickened again. With a soft creeping of its gentle fog, it settled her back into her previous joy, her sense of belonging she'd temporarily shed in her frightened questioning of this world. In the end, perhaps selfishly or perhaps not, all Sakura wanted was this beautiful vision she had been given. She wanted to be blinded with wonder at the sight of her peaceful village, her friends; her home, her husband, her children. It was her most perfect picture of life, one she knew in her heart must be impossible, and with tears still streaming down her cheeks, Sakura surrendered herself to her need for this to all be true, bringing her lips up along Madara's in her need to make it so.
He slid an answering hand along her waist; his nose brushed against the side of hers, his smoky scent she loved and preferred filling her mind, and Sakura sank into his grip, their faces tilting together in a single breath drawn between two mouths already meeting. She reached up, shutting her eyes more tightly and exhaling shakily through her nose, her fingers raking through Madara's wild mane. Without hesitation he lifted her up, both hands supporting her beneath her thighs, his released breath hot against her lips. He left biting, greedy kisses down the soft hollow of her throat and along her ear and shoulder, tasting her skin, savouring her desirous gasp as she arched her lap against his where he supported her weight. The rice-paper screen at brushed against her back, threatening to break as Madara pushed her up against it with a rumbling, warning growl Sakura gladly replied to with deeper, angrier tangles of their mouths. Edged kisses deepened, almost sloppy in her eagerness to consume and be consumed by him and this wonderful dream of a life.
Sakura was casting the last of her doubts away to sink into such blissful, heat-wrought pleasure, the tingles from every touch dancing up and down her body beneath flushed skin. Her qipao was ruffled, half-unclasped at the neck; breaths exchanged were shallow, stolen from the other between kisses roughly traded. She released an aching sigh, tasting Madara's open mouth with a greedy, goading kiss: fully thrown with desire and stressed out love, she was prepared to offer him her full surrender and forget herself in him and his relentless, endless stamina.
The sliding doors down the hall had her stiffening while Madara turned his head with a scowl, angered rather than annoyed now by this newest interruption of attempted intimacy.
Obito was frowning at them both from where he'd poked his head into the corridor from the courtyard. "I'm trying to train your kid here. We can hear you, you know. Can you please go make another Uchiha somewhere where we can't hear it? Let's not traumatise him, here. Or me."
Sakura squeaked, mortified, hiding her face against Madara's. He glowered at Obito before hoisting Sakura up, tossing her over his shoulder and striding off further down the hall. She clutched at his back, having to spit out some wild silvery hair, her skin flushed red — she had the time to shoot Obito an apologetic, embarrassed look before he rolled his eyes and retreated back into the courtyard.
Madara carried her down the complex of corridors until he pushed open a set of elegant sliding doors that were painted with cherry trees and the Uchiha symbol above them. Kicking them shut behind him, he tossed Sakura onto the futon. She landed clumsily, shoving pink hair from her vision to stumble back and stare up at him with wide eyes where he stood at the end of the mattress, a thumb hooked in his obi as he was about to loosen it.
Sakura's blush across her face scorched down through the whole of her body with Madara's nasty smile and accompanying rumble. "Irritating as he is, he makes a good suggestion. My dear wife…" he leaned in from where he loomed, his wild jagged locks falling around his sinister grin, "...I will give you another brat right here and now."
His words jolted through Sakura's blood like an electric current, pulled right out of her deepest, most sordid fantasies. She shifted a little further backwards on the futon, her heart pounding out of her chest, feeling like the skin was about to burn off of her face as Madara took another step towards her with a dangerous glint in his eyes.
Sakura's mouth opened and shut as Madara watched her expectantly. It was as if he'd shorted out her brain; she couldn't think, utterly frazzled in her heat-shocked haze. "Well?" he purred, gesturing vaguely at himself and then to her.
She slowly rose to her feet, her knees slightly shaky. Drawing a deep breath, she approached Madara like one might approach a roaring fire, her hands lifted and her skin burning. Setting her hands carefully upon his obi, she managed another quavering breath, the word shivering out in her next exhale. "Yes… please."
Sakura tightened her grip on Madara's obi, lifting her head; her skin burned as he drew his smile along her cheek, a hand sliding up her stomach to rest over her qipao between her breasts. They could both feel her rapid heartbeat, its percussion desperate and almost frightened if it weren't for the confidence and desire clear beneath her excitement.
She tugged, her quick fingers practised in this by now, and the obi fell away easily, making a soft noise as it fell to the tatami mat floor. She drew her fingers along his bare skin beneath the dark folds of his robe, memorising what she'd already memorised for the thousandth time, her thumbs sweeping slowly across scarred, toned planes of warm, pale skin. With focused attention Sakura traced upwards along Madara's sides, ignoring the subconscious examination her brain ran as a background analysis, already aware of his perfect health; her focus was on her desire and the love that she expressed in her touches that were gradual, gentle, unabashed.
Opening his dark robe further, Sakura bent her head, placing a kiss just above the strange face imprinted over his left pectoral. Drawing a little closer, she tasted his bared shoulder, appreciating the toned shape of his arm that she carefully moved so she could curl her touches around to his back. He held her loosely by the waist as her own fingers caught upon the waistband of his pants, pausing once more.
Appreciative, hungry, but unhurried, Sakura brought the small of her palm up along the tall curve of Madara's spine, her thoughtful touches glancing between honed muscles and remembered scars, each whose story she'd asked and been told over years of deep intimacy. Her skilled and gentle fingertips traced between each one, not in reminders but in a pattern painting the vision of compassion and painfully deep affection she was showing him now. She did not need to say the words for him to understand how intensely she loved him.
Together they took a step back, towards the bed. Together they hissed with anticipation as her sudden and impatient movement had snapped the waistband free, half-baring him, and he pressed her down by the shoulders with a hand into soft sheets and the spongy mattress, his other hand catching on the loose pile of fabric around his knees to shove it away completely. His open robe fell around the tangle of their limbs as he overshadowed her once more.
Sakura tilted her head back into the pillows as she felt his hands at her throat, breaking the collar of her qipao fully loose. She kept her eyes on Madara's hungry ones with every inch of creamy, hale skin that he exposed, freeing her from the qipao in quick, successive tugs, the red fabric falling away to reveal her chest that rose and fell with quickening, shallower breaths. She wore no bra; his grin was crooked with appreciation reflected in the rough squeeze his hands made around each perfect globe, the pads of his thumbs circling her nipples, making her shut her eyes with a cracked groan. She arched into his touch, welcoming his glad urge to squeeze and caress; then to seize, as he took hold of her waist this time, lifting her legs and freeing her of her shorts and underwear in one efficient ripping of cloth.
"Hey, clothes are expensive, you've got to stop doing that," Sakura breathlessly protested as Madara tossed her ruined shorts aside. The qipao open around her chest got similar treatment, thrown unceremoniously towards the dresser before he bent and claimed her lips. He hummed in anticipation and approval as she instinctively dragged her thighs up his sides and crossed her calves behind his back beneath his open robe, squeezing him, inviting him closer.
But he didn't let her arch against his lap to progress their position, instead pushing her back down into the bed when she tried. Madara caught her eye, the glint in his metallic stare nothing short of hazardous as her heartbeat hiked into heart-attack territory. "We will be releasing our tension more thoroughly than usual, this time," and Sakura squeaked as she was flipped over, his rough hand pressing into the small of her back before he pulled her legs apart. She cried out harshly upon the unexpected heat and wet, dextrous push of his tongue against her, relentless and circling and then torturously slow. She lifted her hips, groaning into the pillows, groaning his name in a stuttering gasp.
Fingers tormenting her now, first just his middle finger repeatedly inserted with his mouth against her, slightly smiling as he enjoyed her shudders against his slow lapping; then two fingers, parting her further, occasionally curling inside her as he savoured her. Torment. The best kind, his wicked mouth obliterating any coherent thought but the pure pleasure he was drowning her in, thoroughly, unhurriedly.
Sakura groaned again, pushing her forehead deeper into the pillows. She had a thrill of embarrassment to feel so expose, but the feeling was smited again by the tongue swirling around her pearl, ripping another sigh from her as she sank back against him needily. "Madara, please…"
His grin moved to her inner thigh, tasting along her skin to her lower back. He dragged his teeth along the planes of her skin, making her shiver and melt beneath fingers that appeared around her legs, spreading her wider. She hissed in protest, drunk with pleasure, and then she felt the length she was anticipating as he dragged it against her slowly, pulling her hips back to meet his. Sakura lifted her head, turning to meet Madara's gaze; he hovered over her, his eyes luminescent, his hands digging in around her waist. She was so slick as he slid slowly against her in a teasing glide; she was more than ready, impatient in the push she made against him. "Tension we will soon release if not through destruction…" Madara rumbled, taking harsh grip of her waist and pushing up against her in preparation to breach her, "then through creation."
Sakura's scream was muted by the clap of his hand over her mouth as he slammed into her with a grunt. She moaned with every thrust afterwards, undulating back against him, breathing hard against his palm she gripped with one of her own hands. Wild silver hair shifted down around his shoulders to cascade past hers, Madara's grunts accompanying her muted gasps and cries. His hand shifted to Sakura's throat in a light grip; she tilted her head back against his shoulder as he pressed his chest against her back, pushing her into the sheets, pounding her into the futon without a shred of mercy. She loved every moment of it, moving with him and against him, her eyes fluttering with pleasure beneath twitching brows in an expression of focused rapture.
Madara's half-laugh at her was silenced beneath her furious kiss when she managed to flip them both; he leaned into her, enjoying Sakura's takeover as she continued move with him, pinning him down against the mattress like he'd done to her but with her on top and their heaving chests meeting as she met his lips repeatedly with passion. An exchange of power; a balance as Sakura took control, the both of them worked into a frenzy as their bodies tangled and they moved with and within the other in a meeting of perfect opposites.
He would not let her stay in control long. Their fight for power was a turning of limbs and faces as they thrashed together in shifting positions progressing but never breaking the heated rush of meeting lips and passionate rhythms cycling between pleasurably slow and impatiently fast — the headboard cracking when Madara took her against it, the mattress squeaking when she threw him down, the mat by the bed tearing when he pushed her into it, and it was with voices joined in broken harmonies when they finally threw each other off the cliff into bliss, collapsing into the sheets, utterly and thoroughly tangled in every way they could be.
Sakura sank beneath Madara, finding a new level of complete joy where she lay in his arms.
He took the moment to lean over her, meeting her eyes. His expression was drawn and serious, his gaze searching. His low murmur in the shadowed, starlit room was sweet and brief, and he held still above her in suspension afterwards, watching her face.
Neither expected Sakura's features to drain of colour, for her eyes to widen with horror.
No.
That wasn't right.
She pulled away from Madara abruptly, drawing the sheet over her chest and staring at him with sudden clarity behind her eyes. She'd lost all the colour in her face, her heart pounding slowly and painfully against her ribs as his words echoed in her brain.
"You wouldn't say that," she whispered as he regarded her with wounded confusion. "No…" Sakura rose to her feet, and she tied the sheet around herself, shaking her head. "Oh, no. No…"
"What? Sakura—"
"You wouldn't say that. Not in this way." She turned from him, pushing her hands through her hair and feeling sick. Tossing away the sheet, Sakura dressed herself quickly; Madara got to his feet as well, and she shied away from him when he tried to approach her, flinching from his touch. "No. I think I know. I do know now."
She wouldn't look at him as she wrenched open the doors to their bedroom. There were silent tears running down Sakura's cheeks as she looked from their room to the baby's room down the hall, her heart breaking as she finally, finally broke free of the constrictive haze that had blinded her to the truth of her surroundings. No; this was not home, not a place she belonged. That child wasn't really hers, just as this life wasn't hers, not yet. It was all fake, including the man she had loved behind her, who had told her his love in such earnest, sweet words so kind and heartfelt that they'd broken her awake in a painful dose of reality. He'd felt somewhat off to her all day, but now she was conscious of exactly why.
Sakura could feel Madara just behind her, at her side. She could feel his offense at her withdrawal, her coldness, and she closed her eyes, drawing up tightly as she spoke softly. "You've never said those words to me in real life. And you wouldn't; not like that. I know you…" Sakura's haunted eyes shifted down the hall as she stepped forward and out of Madara's reach. She looked away, towards where the sunlight finally died away into starlight in the distant entryway she now saw as the exit she needed. She refused to look at the Uchiha symbols on the wall anymore, nor at the man beside her.
Before Madara could protest, she was shaking her head, beginning to walk away from him towards that dying light. "I don't expect I will ever hear those words from you. You would only ever tell me you love me like that in a daydream like this one; never in reality. Not until we're on our deathbeds. And you—" Sakura's voice was choked, the words difficult to admit, "You wouldn't show me such easy affection like you did today. Reassurance and sweetness like that doesn't come so naturally to you. It all finally made me see… you're just a fake version of you." She refused to meet Madara's stare, shutting her eyes briefly with visible pain. "And that's okay. I love how difficult you are sometimes. I love seeing the subtle times the real you manages to show affection. I love — him. Not you. Not this you."
He stepped out after her, but she was already beginning to quicken her pace, tears streaming down her cheeks as her words fell back against him. "You're just a figment of this dream," she was saying mostly to herself now, striding forward with increasing urgency, the truth chasing at her footsteps. "Everyone here is. I understand now. I remember who I was: who I really am. I need…"
She didn't hear Madara's protest as she began to run towards the doors, her words lost in the corridor behind her. "I need to fix this. I need to get home… I need to find the true you."
"Sakura, wait!" but she was already pushing her way out of the front doors, and Madara faded away, nothing but a shadow dissipating in the empty Uchiha manor as soon as she was out of sight.
Sakura skidded to a halt, her mind sharp and clear and her fists ready to be thrown at however she might break free from this place – this dream, this world that wasn't real she was trapped in. She'd finally shed the fog from her mind, had cleansed herself of her confusion. She ignored the vicious pain of leaving what she forced herself to remember was a false Madara behind, her tears drying on her cheeks. She could only hope she hadn't wasted too much time here already.
It was as if the world had heard her discover part of the dangerous truth. She stumbled, having to grab on to a nearby wooden beam as suddenly the entire village and every horizon beyond it rippled like a vast steep wave upon a roaring ocean. The ground itself was as fluid as a bottomless sea, the skies scorching red, the clouds ripping into black.
Sakura let out a cry as she scrabbled for a hold on something so she wouldn't fall, panicking as the entire world around her undulated violently, the horizon like a rising storm surge ready to collapse down on her.
Suddenly then as fast as her surroundings had rippled, there was stability again, the Konoha sprawl before her as normal as it had been before; asserted into normalcy like she'd hallucinated what she'd experienced moments ago, but the vertigo still pulled and swayed at Sakura like she was a ship lost in an ocean storm. Before her once more was the summery visage of Konoha at peace, the early-evening sky a velvety violet speckled with stars — but she could see it now, the change made by her hazardous uncovering of the truth.
The moon rose higher in the sky, an all-seeing eye peering down upon her world. Sakura stood taller, her pulse tucked high in her throat, her blood rushing like an overflowing river.
This was no dream. This was no dreaded casting of the Infinite Tsukuyomi, trapping her in an eternal ideal life, though that certainly was the facade that this unnatural reality had taken. No: it was a genjutsu.
The ground groaned as if she'd stabbed it with the word, and again it rippled, it shuddered like a living beast that buckled, collapsing — Sakura broke into a run, stumbling down the front steps of the Uchiha manor and hurtling forwards.
In all directions but the one beneath the high moon, the horizons began to rise, becoming a distant, terrifying crest of a tsunami wave as tall as mountains that swallowed land and sky both east and west. Buildings crumbled and trees sank into rising ground almost parallel to where Sakura ran at a desperate pace down the only remaining road still down beneath her feet. The world was swelling to either side, a roiling ocean sinking into itself.
Genjutsu. Sakura set her frightened but utterly brave and determined stare upon the moon. It was her anchor; it was her way out, her instincts set on the one thing left unmoving in a reality collapsing upon itself. Regardless of its effect, she repeated the word, her fury taking hold of the invisible fabric of the world around her in a vice-grip seizing with her rage. I am in a genjutsu, and I will be freed.
She stumbled, the moon becoming a pair of eyes, mismatched eyes, and Sakura let out a cry as the world fell beneath her feet. She was falling with the awful feeling like she'd been thrown from the tallest building with no ground to impact at the bottom, and she screamed his name as she reached for the stare burning through the skies, dark pupils finally finding her where she fell through crumbling nothingness. Her scream was swallowed by the void, and in the terrifying sensations of plummeting to a surefire death within this dead genjutsu was the voice surrounding her, the only stability left.
Wake up.
Wake up.
There was a dull roar in all directions, the air thick with darkness and the tang of blood and steel. The world shook beneath her, and Sakura realised she was half-collapsed against cold ground, her head spinning. Her fists seized beneath glowing, chakra-muting chains. There was blood dribbling from a painful wound across her neck. The words that had awoken her were from the one bent over her now.
Madara's blood-spattered face overshadowed hers, his mismatched eyes burning through the darkness as Sakura rose with a ragged gasp. She could still feel his powerful chakra that had shocked her system awake as he slid his palm along her cheek, spreading out beneath her skin to sink into her veins in a powerful, intimate rush.
Her frame was immersed within his arms, his wild hair backlit with the light of the moon high above as he leaned over her. With his stare glowing through the dark, the flashing lights and roaring of countless figures fighting around them in every direction, Sakura only just heard his words. "Do not give up now. Nothing is over with yet."
"Madara—" and he was gone in a flash of black and white, Sakura scrabbling backwards against rock and ash. She sat up, disoriented and panicked. No; he wasn't gone — he was the burning blur of crackling light and power slashing around where she crouched, the figures of a thousand fighters against each other in all directions with drowned-out shouting making the overwhelming roar of noise, and with a gasp she realised Madara was fending off constant attackers. Sitting up further, Sakura had the further rude awakening that they were in the middle of war.