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Sakura sat staring at her twin, her mouth twisted to the side.

Said twin offered her a beaming smile. "See? I'm perfect. You should be impressed." Twin Sakura posed where she sat in her chair; she leaned her head in her hand, aiming a winning look at her.

"Keep your voice down," Sakura growled.

"I can do a perfect impression of you, too," twin-Sakura exclaimed. She tossed her hair dramatically, gripping a fist with a grin. "Ohh, Sasuke! Shannaro!"

The real Sakura pushed a pile of books on the table out of the way before her "twin" could knock them off and create even more noise. She glared at her with corrosive intensity, leaning forward, fingers digging into a book cover. "If you mess this up, Naruto, I swear I will punch you senseless. We can only do this once. If we don't pull it off, they'll all know my face, and it'll be way harder next time." After a thought, Sakura released the dented book, scowling at the disguised Naruto. "I do not say 'oh Sasuke'!"

Naruto hummed, pink hair swirling around his face. "I guess you don't lately. You feeling okay?"

Sakura sighed, sitting back in her worn wooden chair. "Right. Let's go over this mission again. I'll make a scene. You will…?"

"I know the plan," Naruto grumbled. He leaned his head in his hand with a pout. "Come on, Sakura. I'm not stupid. I paid attention at the team briefing, promise."

"Just say it so I don't stress out over it anymore."

"I'll find all of the cult's super-secret hidden files and take whatever's useful for us," Naruto recited summarily, rolling his eyes, "keeping up my awesome henge of you the whole time, so I don't get recognised. You'll yell and punch someone or something to distract people while I do that. Then we meet up and go once I'm done."

"And don't get caught, or hit too hard," Sakura tacked on to Naruto's summary, "the last thing either of us needs is to get dismissed." She picked up a nearby pen and twirled it in her fingers, watching the play of the light across its metal sides. Naruto watched her in turn, his smile having sloped into a frown. "Sakura, you look totally exhausted."

She paid no attention to his concern, though she sighed. She knew she was threadbare inside and out, like all her clones must appear. It had gotten pretty bad if even Naruto was noticing, and Sakura tucked her hair behind her ear self-consciously as she knew how she looked – there were bags beneath her eyes, her hair mussed and uncombed, her skin sun-starved from staying out of sight.

Combing out knots with her fingers, Sakura tried to act like she wasn't affected by Naruto's observation. "Yeah, what of it?"

He folded his arms, reminding Sakura briefly of Tsunade, even while wearing her own image. "You should let me help you for stuff like this more often. You really are wearing yourself too thin." He leaned back with a half-grin. "You know, making clones is easy for me. I could make a hundred of 'em and barely feel the effort it takes."

Sakura paused in toying with the pen to shoot Naruto a glare. "Thanks for that reminder. I know I don't have the insane amount of chakra that you do."

"That's not my point!" Naruto protested, pushing pink hair from his face as he gestured frustratedly at Sakura. "I'm trying to offer you more help. We're teammates, aren't we? I can send out more Sakura-disguised clones, like you're doing. I can make things easier and help you distract Madara."

Sakura eyed Naruto for a moment, raising a brow. The thought of Naruto dispatching his clones made to look like her at any point beyond this mission made her tense. Somehow, she knew that wouldn't go down well in encounters against Madara.

She shook her head vigorously, unwilling to imagine such potential disasters. "No, no. Thank you, but no. Just help me out today and we'll be square."

"Sakura…" Naruto had that serious, searching look, and Sakura brought her gaze across the books that surrounded their table in towering shelves, avoiding his stare. Though Naruto was often oblivious, sometimes he had an eerie clarity of insight, and she didn't want him staring into her soul at the moment. That sense of inexplicable shame prickled her ears, and she cleared her throat, uncomfortable beneath his worried attention. "I promise to ask for yours and our team's help whenever I need it. I've handled my mission well enough so far, right?"

Naruto sighed. "Yeah, I guess you have. I just worry about you. All of us do. I mean, you're tough, Sakura, but it's Madara we're up against."

"Pff." Sakura rubbed the smile from her face, getting to her feet. "Maybe you and Kakashi-sensei and Lady Tsunade worry. I doubt Sasuke worries about much, least of all about me." Her smile faded as her gaze dragged across colourful varieties of books. "All he cares about is that I fix his eye as soon as possible."

"I mean, yeah," Naruto agreed cautiously, following Sakura's lead, "but you did promise…"

"I'm making headway in my Rinnegan studies." Sakura's voice lowered another notch as she glanced around, paranoid. "I can't talk about it here, but I'm learning a lot. Tell Sasuke to be patient. I won't be much longer."

Naruto made a face as he thought, Sakura peering cautiously around the bookshelves. Her sharp eyes danced over the hunched heads of nearby civilians studying at various tables, scanning for dangers and opportunities.

"It's so frustrating," Naruto wheedled. "Even with my extra abilities from the old man Sage of Six Paths, I couldn't fix Sasuke's eye like I could with Kakashi's." He peered at Sakura. "You've studied this stuff. Why didn't it work?" His frown deepened. "And why couldn't Madara fix it himself either, like you and Obito mentioned he tried to do back right after you'd first damaged it?"

"Because the Rinnegan is possibly… no, definitely the most powerful and excessively complicated organic thing in all of shinobi-kind." Sakura wiped the sleep from her eyes with a sigh, shooting Naruto a mildly annoyed look. "Come on. Obito wouldn't have asked me to damage the eye if it could be so easily fixed by your Sage powers, or by Madara's regenerative cells. It would have been a pointless request otherwise, and I'd consider him a credible authority on Uchiha eyes."

"Oh." Naruto pouted. "That's dumb. Well… I guess we're lucky we have you to fix it instead."

"Well, I've been trying, anyway," Sakura grumbled half to herself, thinking of her frustrating, difficult studies down deep in the underground labs. She tried again to focus upon the library around her while Naruto continued to talk behind her. "I'm impressed, you know," Naruto said, his stare upon her bright even in the hushed lights of the library. "I've meant to congratulate you on kicking ass with your mission so far, even if you're constantly exhausted. You've really been keeping Madara on the outs looking for you, wasting his time while we recover. And, I hear you've got clones out everywhere, still. Is your original sending out new ones for each that he takes down?"

"Yeah, as much as she can, and it's costing nearly all the chakra I can possibly muster," Sakura scowled back.

"Don't get mad when I say this, but none of us expected you to be able to hold Madara off this long." Naruto beamed. "It's great. Soon, we can start the second part of our plan, now that we're all rested up and ready to fight again."

"Yeah, yeah," Sakura said in a rushed hiss, "quiet down. I swear, Naruto. Are you thick in the head? Don't make me have to smack sense into you here."

Naruto shut his mouth with a scowl, shifting uncomfortably in his unfamiliar Sakura-disguise, picking at his gloves and shorts. "Well… but… damn, I was about to say something important, but now I've totally forgotten."

Sakura's gaze slid over to the hallway that led to the curator's office. She recognised it as the one that she had been stealing her way through several nights ago, and she watched with interest as a man came storming out of it, brown hair a mess around his glaring eyes. Sliding slightly further back behind the shelf, Sakura's voice was barely audible, her finger subtly poking Naruto in the arm. "Naruto. That's him. The curator."

"What's a curator?"

"The caretaker of the library." Sakura tilted her head in the man's direction. "You know. The one who wrote those letters I told you about. One of the current kingpins, or at least major funders, of the cult? Yūji Saito."

"Oh yeah." Naruto leaned forward, watching with Sakura as Saito cornered a library attendant, pointing furiously at something and hissing something in venomous tones. He disappeared, his stride as abrupt and pointed as his anger. "What's he so mad about?"
"Probably my recent theft," Sakura sighed. She had realised after her successful escape that it had been unwise to steal Madara's letter; no doubt this obsessive cult-leader Saito would immediately notice its absence, and she was still annoyed with herself for taking it. It had been a compulsion, something she hadn't even thought about, and it was still in her pack, folded and tucked into an inside pocket.

Before Naruto could ask more, she turned to him with a focused expression. "This is my chance. Naruto, get going."

He nodded, Sakura briefly struck with the strangeness of how much he looked exactly like her in his flawless henge before he ducked around a corner. He strode off towards the hidden door she'd shown him earlier on blueprints she'd palmed from Saito's office, glancing around, flexing fingers restless.

She exhaled wearily. It was irksome to have to have him wear her likeness, but Naruto was known far and wide these days. Even just walking into this place as himself would draw every curious eye. Either way, Sakura was grateful for Naruto's help; she'd never let Madara know it, but his sharp guess pertaining to her tiredness and strain as well as lack of chakra to replace clones was significantly wearing her down. Her clever clone network was under particular duress lately with how many he had managed to hunt and kill, both locally and across the nation where she had spread them from village to village.

Taking a deep breath, Sakura turned towards where she'd last seen Saito, tension pulling throughout her frame. Walking confidently towards where he was probably shouting at some other unfortunate soul in his office, she prepared to anger him even more.

Sakura's screams echoed throughout dark corridors and vacuous rooms. Her sounds of pain were the only ones that survived in such thick dark, shuddering out in waves through the cold, musty air. The echoes traced upwards, beyond, where unnatural flat ochre eyes set in a featureless face widened with interest.

Black Zetsu sank into the ground with a grin, turning towards where he knew he could find Madara not far from here; he very much looked forward to imparting this delightful bit of news.

Sakura spat out blood, tilting her head back in the chair she was tied to. She let out a deep, agonised groan that shook through her battered, bloodied frame. The air was thick with the twisted satisfaction of the masked men around her as the sound rang through the musty basement, dying away against dusty shelves full of files and thick, forgotten tomes.

"I'll ask you again," Saito was saying, tapping his knife in his hand as he stood over her. "Who are you? What's your name? Tell me who sent you here." His fingers dug into the cheap handle of the blade. "And why are you against my holy Tsukuyomi Union? How dare you pilfer and destroy my highly valuable property… in my own library?" He clenched his teeth, still upset from the discovery of the smashed, obliterated remains of his office. There were easily hundreds of files lost, valuable data set afire in the match she'd tossed. There were a few novice members still upstairs that he'd assigned to sorting through the ash after putting out the fire, tasked with finding anything salvageable; next time, he'd be sure to safeguard his things more carefully.

Her gaze was wandering, like his questions bored her, and Saito glared down at the tied-up girl, simmering with fury. "Do you want more pain? Pay more attention to me." He adjusted the angle of the knife in his grip and brought it down with a hiss, stabbing it deep into the meat of her thigh just above her knee.

She tensed, her teeth tightly clenched, and she let out a belated grunt of pain, green eyes flashing. She regarded Saito with a lethal hatred, cold and merciless.

He stood back from her reach out of instinct, regardless of the fact that she was safely bound to the steel chair. He eyed her, disliking his own sense of unease. Though she was nothing but a disarmed and helpless young woman, there was a conspicuous lack of fear in her face, and she had a darkness about her presence that set him on edge.

It bothered Saito. He pulled his knife free, the blade making a shhk sound as it tore out of her flesh. She struggled somewhat in her restraints. Saito failed to notice how she tensed herself not out of being bound, but from holding herself back.

"Silence won't buy you mercy nor time. Only more wounds." Saito gestured with the knife, a splatter of red marking her face in an arc of dripping blood as the wet blade flashed in the light. "Don't make me ask you again, brat. I know that particular stab just now hurt a lot. Want some cuts on your face? I'll mark you for life so badly that no man will want to so much as look at you again."

Tch. The little sound was subtle, but Saito swerved towards Sakura, knife at the ready. "What was that? You dare to be insubordinate to your captor?" He loomed over her as best as he could, angered further. The cheeky brat. She'd been looking at him with disgust just now, not proper terror, like any captive bound and surrounded by strong, capable Union members should be.

Saito held the girl's surprisingly dangerous, shadowed stare, sensing she must not be any normal girl. Hell, he should have made note of that sooner, seeing how her single punch had nearly collapsed the entire wing of the library where his office was. Damn her — and she'd stolen his holy letter, too, its expensive sleeve and all.

He regripped his blade, fuming. He'd kill her for that crime on its own once this was done. The first and only response from the great Lord himself… His very own writing! The letter, however brief, was something of a holy relic for the Union to behold. Saito had already ordered the glass case for it, where it would have been displayed gloriously in a nearby museum, pending approval from the local museum owner.

But no. This pink girl had ruined those plans, and had severely stunted the stores of information for the Union that had been helping Saito run things with some efficiency. He prepared his blade, ready to cut her a new look from ear to ear.

"Pliers," one of the men beside him suggested, adjusting his mask. "Rip off her nails. That'll make her sing like a wretched canary."

"Good idea." Saito caught the pliers another man tossed to her, hefting them; they creaked as he tested them, looking over to the girl with a hateful smile as he looked forward to seeing fear finally wrest her pretty face.

To his surprise, the disgusted and proud look had indeed dissipated from her features. Her expression had slackened entirely, her green eyes slowly widening as she stared into the darkness behind where Saito stood before her. She'd gone pale, like she had seen a ghost.

Excellent. He'd finally gotten a reaction that he wanted out of her. Saito gripped the pliers, one of the fellow members snatching the girl's hand and bringing it up in the dim light so he could see it better. He watched the girl's face as he moved the pliers into position over her nail, but she wasn't paying Saito any attention, the slightest of flushes rising to her cheeks as she continued to intensely watch something in the darkness. Her every muscle was tensed, her breath quickening subtly as her chest rose and fell more rapidly.

"I have never seen such a pathetic crew of interrogators."

The circle of cultists was on the floor in worshipful positions so fast that it was like they had been cut in half. They bowed their heads, their backs drenched with sweat, limbs quaking and breaths short. Saito scraped his face against the cement floor in particularly passionate reverence, the pliers clattering away from his sweaty, clasping hands.

Sakura inhaled sharply as Madara emerged from the darkness, a smaller, slender figure struggling in his grip.

He stopped before where she was tied to the chair, her twin seized by the collar; he eyed Sakura, keeping the twin firmly within his grasp. She held her breath as he seemed to assess her for a moment; she sat up a little taller in the chair, her expression tightening. She looked a fright: spattered in blood, she was covered in wood dust and bruises, the cut in her thigh seeping down her leg in bright red. Slashes down her arms and across her body glinted wetly in the dim light, and her image was worsened by the dark circles beneath her weary eyes.

But the undying fires of her will shone behind her gaze, and her lips tightened as she held Madara's appraising stare, indicating both that she was still just as unafraid as before, and, by the softening about the corners of her mouth, that she was doing fine. Her gaze flitted oddly to the strange image of herself at his side, struggling in his grip; there was a touch of relief in her expression as she saw that Naruto's henge of her was holding on still.

Madara addressed the men bowing reverently around him with a snarl. "This woman is Haruno Sakura, the one I've been seeking out — you useless, ignorant fools." He wrenched Sakura's struggling twin into submission. She cursed as his gloved hand wrenched around her neck, his rumble reverberating through the room. "While you all were questioning her, this light-footed clone learned of your unguarded secrets." He shook the Sakura in his grip, who hid her quick, very Naruto-esque winning grin. "Not an impressive feat, as the security system here is worse than laughable," Madara added, scowling at them both.

Sakura shot the disguised Naruto beseeching looks while Madara was admonishing the cultists, sweat dampening the back of her neck. Now that he had unexpectedly appeared, everything was exponentially more dangerous. It was essential that Naruto keep his cover, or things could get uglier.

Naruto didn't catch Sakura's furtive glances as he glared back at Madara. Sakura hoped against hope that he wouldn't do something so stupid as to use the Rasengan right now.

"Resplendent saviour and revered Lord Uchiha," Saito was gasping from his deep bow against the scuffed cement, "we didn't expect your arrival. We would have prepared. We…"

"I told you all to send word to me should you capture her, clones or originals. I did not ask for this—" Keeping Naruto seized by the collar, Madara bent and picked up the dropped, bloodied pliers from the ground. He hefted them, eyeing them with disgust. "—This low-brow, amateur method of extracting information."

He threw it at where Saito bowed and scraped near his feet. It stabbed through his shoulder in a spatter of blood.

Both Sakuras tensed up, their eyes wide. Saito made a wretched shout, curling into himself, still bowing. He shook where he lay, Sakura snorting at his dramatic moans of pain.

Madara glanced over to Sakura in her chair where she had been sitting uneasily still, meeting her searching eyes as he spoke. "The lot of you ought to be more careful. I have seen this kunoichi take a staff through the chest without so much as a sound." He narrowed his stare upon her, causing her to sit a little taller. "It seems she has been putting on quite the show for you all."

The group of men shifted uncomfortably where they knelt; whispers too soft to catch exchanged between bowed heads. Sakura clenched her teeth as Madara folded his arms, giving her a goading look. "She has fought against even me reasonably enough. At least, when she is actually trying."

Naruto shoved at Madara's side, aiming a kick that he dodged. Pink hair swirled as he threw a fist that Madara caught; Naruto broke free, narrowly dodging Madara's lightning-quick strike in response. White robes swished against black as the two of them swerved in a violent circle, cultists gasping and shuffling out of their warpath.

Sakura had already easily broken free of her restraints. She dove into the fight without hesitation, Naruto narrowly dodging another cutting strike while Sakura aimed a fist at Madara's face. He ducked, his kick forcing her to leap to avoid the hit, Naruto rolling out of the way of several skewering staffs that shunted through the cement, sending bits of dust and rock flying. She and Naruto flipped backwards, intending to disengage, avoiding taking hits and being prematurely dismissed. Cultists continued to cower, making a frightened huddled group across the room. Wide pairs of masked eyes took in the fight with fear and continued reverence.

They landed on their feet, skidding backwards into the dark – twin Sakuras glowered at Madara as he rose to his feet. Naruto's fists were clenched just as hard as Sakura's, and in her peripheral vision she could see he was barely keeping himself disguised, though his henge still held: he continued to look exactly like her.

But Madara's mismatched eyes switched to her, burning bright through the darkness above his slight, smug smile.

She let out a hiss of surprise as he was a flash of white, searing through the air. She was pinned to the ground in an instant, gasping, his wild hair spilling around their faces. As Naruto stepped towards her to help, Sakura seized Madara's arms around her head with a growl. "Don't. I've got this."

"Do you?" He grinned down at her, eyes glinting. "It was so easy to pick you out. Everything about you differs from your false copy." Madara slid a mocking side-glance through falls of silvery hair at Naruto, whose expression had slackened with disappointment. "Game's over. You may as well give up that henge of yours."

"Damn you," Sakura hissed, shoving at his shoulders where he'd locked her in place beneath him, controlled and pinned under his weight.

Madara turned his head, looking down at Sakura squirming beneath him. She grimaced, the cuts she had endured along her arms and legs smearing the cement beneath her back, staining the front of his black and white robes. Their chests rose and fell in tandem with accelerated breaths; his wild hair had fallen around their faces, obscuring everything else around them.

"Were you trying to demonstrate my point about how you fight? And not well." Madara hummed, Sakura glaring at him while gripping the front of his robes, overheated beneath his weight. "I'll gladly kick your ass, if you get off of me," she bit back.

Madara leaned over her instead, enjoying her pinched scowl. "You did not try hard enough. Again I have you at my mercy. I wonder," he teased, glancing down at their tight juxtaposition, "if you plan for this to happen intentionally."

"Of course not," she shot back, fingers twisting in his robe lapels, her knees tightening between his as she registered his tone. She blinked up at him with temporary confusion, thrown off. Where had that come from?

Sakura shook her head of the adrenaline he'd doused her in, trying to clear her thoughts. Remembering Madara's almost-compliments from earlier, she met his smug stare with a scowl. "You can't fool me. I see right through you with your false praise," she said accusingly, poking him hard in the chest. "You might not hate me, but don't you dare pretend to like me."

"Hn." Madara's deep chuckle shook her frame as he pried her slightly bloodied hands from his robe, eyeing her reddening face and fierce glare. "Is that what you're hoping for?"

Sakura struggled, trying to knee Madara in the groin while shoving at his grip on her arms. He pulled back, making her yelp as he pulled them both abruptly to their feet with a flourish like they had been dancing, teeth flashing in his grin.

Sakura aimed a cutting chop at where Madara grasped her wrist. He released her before she could strike him, and they both withdrew a step.

The space between them cleared Sakura's head somewhat. Aiming a baleful look at Madara, Sakura waved a hand like it was a tangible fog of heat that she was cleansing from her person. "I'm not your clown. I'm tired of you toying with me."

Folding his arms, Madara regarded her with narrowed eyes, his imperious facade returning while Sakura's features clenched with vehement dislike. "Though you certainly played me as the fool, the last time we met," she went on. She lifted her head, standing tall, her green eyes hot with anger. "You couldn't help but to keep up with that reaper image you had going, right? I should have expected it. How you acted almost civil to me before shoving a fist through my chest—" Sakura let out a short, bitter laugh, tossing her head and swiping the blood from her cheeks, running a hand through her mussed hair. "You just had to prove what I'd said about you wrong. Well, good." She spat out blood that had lingered in her mouth, wiping her lips and turning intensely burning eyes back to Madara. "I needed the reminder."

A strange look played across Madara's face; Sakura stood with both fists clenched. Neither of them were paying attention to Naruto where he stood back in a shadow, looking on with wide eyes like the cultists did, the henge of Sakura's features slowly melting away from his face.

"That," Madara decided to correct her, "was not me. Direct your resent towards Black Zetsu for that particular death."

"What?" Sakura paused, replaying that death in her mind. She had been fuming over that violent contrast of moments ever since it had happened — but she couldn't let him dissuade her anger, even with the chance that he was being truthful. That clone's death had been her harsh reality check, and Sakura shook her head, scowling back at Madara. "I can't trust anything you say."

"Are you so wounded that our conversation ended poorly?" Madara stepped forward, the dim light flickering slightly as his glare flashed upon her. "I find that curious. I even warned you that I'd come to take your life." His pupils dilated slightly as his focus honed in ever-sharper upon her, burning into the side of Sakura's face as she looked away from him with an angry huff. "Things only ever seem to get more complicated. Perhaps consider…" Gloved fingers spread in a grasping gesture, Madara tilting his head slightly as his tone deepened, causing Sakura to look back his way. "...that you do not truly understand what it is you are doing — where it is, that this is going." His words narrowed to a hiss with this, his hand closing tightly into a fist.

Sakura stepped threateningly towards him in return, her own fists taut at her sides; but her retort died on her tongue, killed by the way Madara was watching her like a lion might regard its prey. She fell silent, taking in his image for a moment as she processed his change in demeanour.

Shadows fell around Madara's face, the dim lights cutting his features into contrasts of black and white. Dark rust-shaded smears across his front showed where Sakura had bled on his clothes during their brief struggle. His silhouette cut a serrated outline around him, his unnatural eyes burning slightly aglow through the dark.

Self-conscious beneath Madara's unusually charged scrutiny, Sakura wiped at her bleeding leg and raked fingers through her wild hair, straightening her rumpled clothes and clearing her throat. Her blood thundered with warning beneath her skin.

"Sakura. What —"
She swerved, silencing Naruto with the flash of her eyes, Madara's stare tracking them both as she spoke in a soft hiss. "Naruto. Stay out of this."

"But what is 'this'?..." he asked, trailing off as she threw her attention back at Madara with clenched teeth and gripping fists. "Of course I know where the future is going," she finally addressed Madara's previous words, "and it's only going to get worse for you. It must be embarrassing for you to be thrown off for so long on this silly clone chase by someone like me. What god can't accomplish so much as finding a hiding kunoichi and her captive eye?" She made a fierce grin, standing tall in the flickering light as she sent a disdainful glance across the cultists' bowed heads where they hid a safe distance away from she and Madara both. "You can't upset me with your mockery of my reactions like in the swamp, nor can you frighten me, like you tried afterwards." She met Madara's shadowed stare, her expression wrought with her undying ferocity. "In fact, I'm more motivated than ever to thwart your Eye of the Moon plan. You have nothing to look forward to but more embarrassment, more failure, and endless frustration. The chase will never end until you're defeated."

Neither of them acknowledged Naruto's approving hum. Madara stalked closer until he effectively loomed over Sakura; she held her ground, holding her head high, staring up into his face with a willful glint about her eyes.

The confidence holding up her features faltered somewhat with the sheer velvet of his voice as he spoke, drawing a hand along her chin and holding her still before him. "Let me make you understand where we will not be interrupted further by unnecessary company."

Sakura parted her lips to speak, but inhaled sharply instead, the world falling away around them both. She would have stumbled if it weren't for Madara's steel grip that had shifted to her shoulder.

Every direction sank into the depths of a vast ocean that was rapidly changing: distant forests pushed up into the skies, the ground splashed with the red light that spilled over everything, drenching where Sakura stood before Madara in a crimson hue. High above his glittering pair of Rinnegan eyes, the moon shone red, rippling with a complex spiral of Sharingan-like patterns.

She couldn't breathe as she watched the vast Divine Tree branches stretching across the skies, obscuring the stars. Wind rippled across the devastated warscape; the world was cold and dry, the branches creaking miles above her head.

When she looked up, Sakura could see how they swayed gently with the weight of the thousands of vaguely human-shaped cocoons that hung from their underbellies: the bodies of everyone she knew, bound and hung, enslaved to their dreams.

Sakura's attention was torn back to Madara as he wrenched her closer by the collar. Metal clinked beneath his gloved fingers, and she swallowed tightly as she realised she was chained by the throat, her ankles and wrists bound in cold steel links. The instinctive flexing of her fists made her see that her strength had gone; she had no chakra, no control, and she couldn't pull free as he leaned over her with a smug smile slicing across his shadow-crossed features.

"This is what the future holds for the both of us."

Sakura couldn't look away, Madara's twin Rinnegans slightly glowing in the crimson darkness. She shivered in her prisoner's rags, her skin rashing with the same red tint of the moonlight, her blood like cold water through her veins. Her heart's panicked beat hid in her throat as she couldn't speak, forced to hold Madara's wicked stare.

His voice pushed through her like a fist through her chest. "Remember; I have no intention of allowing you to die, nor dream. It will end this way, whether you fight it, or not. No matter the games we play… no matter the petty push and pull of our chase, you will find yourself here, as I had promised you. You will be entirely at my mercy while the rest of your world hangs in their peaceful dreams."

Sakura tried to break free from her strengthless state, registering in the back of her mind that this was a genjutsu, and not to panic. She had trained to break free from genjutsus. She had an affinity for it, and she attempted to reign in her focus.

It shorted out instead, flickering back to where Madara drew dangerously close. Sakura stiffened like she'd been paralysed as his grin brushed along the side of her cheek. She was engulfed entirely in his shadow but for the slice of red light that illuminated her prisoner's rags where they hung off her curves. She couldn't move as his lips moved beside her ear, his voice like poison dripping across the slate of her thoughts. "The evolution of each little revelation each time we clash has made this future ever more interesting to ponder. Each reaction; each contradiction."

Sakura squeezed her eyes shut as Madara's exhale was hot against the sensitive skin of her cheek. She was extremely aware of how closely they stood, her petrified figure only just separated from his tall frame as he leaned over her, his intimidating voice continuing to disrupt her heat-frayed focus. "The tone we take has been changing. You may have chosen to deny it now, but it has only grown more obvious over time. I see it confirmed in your words, in your actions, even in this very moment." Madara's hiss heated Sakura's skin. She shivered involuntarily when a gloved hand appeared along her waist, fingers digging in to its curve.

Sakura didn't know if it was her, or the genjutsu, but she couldn't speak, her throat constricted and her heart deafening her. She blinked into the wild white mane of hair that she was half-buried in, breathing harder as Madara remained much too close. She could feel the slight upward curve of his grin against her ear, and she willed herself to break loose, to shove away, finding that her body was unresponsive to her commands. All around her, the terrible cocoon-littered skies continued to sway in the wind, the bloodied eye of the moon staring blankly down at where she could not move herself away from Madara's ensnaring grip.

Genjutsu. Sakura repeated the word to herself, trying to ease her increasing internal panic. Hope for avoiding this terrible end to the war still lived. She tried to reassert her confidence, pulling her past lessons in breaking free of genjutsu out of her library of memories.

Madara's hum made Sakura's hair ruffle around his nose. Shifting slightly, his teeth grazed her ear, causing her to gasp softly. A fresh flush of red scorched across from ear to ear, pulling the thrill from her blood and colouring her scarlet as the skies.

"I'm not," Sakura finally managed, finding some coherency through the heat, "I'll never be afraid of whatever you come up with, for threats." She shuddered as he gave a deep, mocking laugh, fingers sliding around her waist in an emboldening touch; she rippled bodily like living water, shuddering as he withdrew to meet her eye. "It is not your fear or lack thereof that we are discussing anymore," Madara informed her with a mean, victorious glint in his eye. "It is what you admitted to me in the swamp; what brings us to this subject, now. Let us finally name it aloud for what it is…"

His mismatched eyes were thoughtful as his hand fell along the side of Sakura's throat. She watched his face as his thumb slid along the rapid thrum of her heartbeat along her neck. Holding her stare with a challenging, dark look, his fingers chased slowly downwards where her desperate pulse led the way. He paused above her heart itself, gloved palm settling between her breasts, before fingertips trailed lower, where her thrumming heartbeat danced beneath her prisoner's rags down to heated, tightly hidden territory, his hand pausing at her lower abdomen. Madara's voice was utterly silken. "...desire."

The backs of his fingers trailed back upwards, warmed by the radiating heat of Sakura's skin, tracing along slender curves and wandering along rushing red planes of sensitive flesh before settling once more along the side of her cheek. She recognised Madara's tender caress as a mocking one, the cold, cruel glint in his eyes only partially masking the lethal heat that smouldered beneath.

It was the mockery in Madara's stare that let Sakura snap out of the spell, and she found her strength, shoving free so violently that she stumbled backwards. Catching herself, she leapt back, creating distance between them while breathing hard. "Bastard," she snarled at him, clasping her arms over her pounding heart and hugging herself protectively. "Let's get this straight. This —" she gestured out at the apocalypse of the cocoon-tainted skies and ominous moon, "is not what the future holds. I'll make damned sure of it. And this," she gestured at her chains, then at Madara, her hands clasping into fists hard enough that her nails pricked her palms. "This will only ever happen in sick genjutsus like this one."

Madara folded his arms with a derisive scoff, silver hair drifting across his pale features. "You can keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better. I simply wanted to give you some warning of this inevitable end, since you appeared to be buried quite deep in denial." His eyes narrowed. "You've only made it worse for yourself with your every ignorant, naive flirtation. It is your own fault that we will end up… here."

"Flirtation? Don't be ridiculous. I would never. Not with you." Sakura threw her fist into the heart of a nearby boulder with a snarl, sending shards of stone everywhere. "I'm not in denial about anything. I don't know what you assumed when we last fought, but…" She drew up taller, shaking dust from her knuckles, her green eyes flashing. "I don't like you. I don't want you. Why should I? Especially when you do things like this."

Madara gestured; Sakura bit down hard as she was bound twice as thoroughly. Steel chains wrapped around the whole of her body, pinning her where she stood. She struggled, but could not free herself, as he strode casually back into her vicinity. "As always, it is child's play to read between the lines with you. You will never be a good liar." Madara stopped just before Sakura, tilting his head with a mean grin. "It has been obvious to me from the beginning what you do and do not feel. You are ever so honest, no matter your intentions; even when it makes situations worse for yourself. For example… during your first little stunt."

Sakura shifted in the chains that bound her, her words spitting through gritted teeth. "I don't know what you mean by honest. That's the wrong word too."

Madara smirked. He stood back, the tainted moonlight dripping down his jagged mane and illuminating his wicked smile in red.

Sakura's wide eyes searched his face; she gleaned enough of his meaning that she scowled, fighting her restraints in another push that failed. Genjutsu! her thoughts screamed, and she was half-distracted as she started focusing harder on the fabric of the world around her, recalling her lessons from the past in clearer detail. "Well," she said dismissively, though pink tinted her cheeks, "you're imagining things." She looked away from Madara. "I didn't kiss you that night for pleasure."

"Are you sure?" He leaned in, his ringed eyes glinting. "You stayed atop me for far longer than you needed to back then. You tease me for the expression I held while yours was much more telling."

Sakura's focus wavered somewhat as she searched for some kind of hidden seam in the genjutsu, some way to break free. She worked harder as Madara continued to speak, his rumbling voice full of malice. "You were more pliant and willing than someone truly cold to the situation would have been. Lingering, even sweet, your desperation blooming into genuine interest the longer you remained… even if you did not do so consciously, at the time."

She shut her eyes as his breath warmed her face. Breathing in deeply, Sakura tried not to allow Madara's smoky warmth to distract her, his purr reverberating through her captive body. "It was very unexpected in addition to the surprise of your initiation; perhaps welcome, regardless of everything." She flinched as she felt rough fingertips tracing her chin, her chest rising and falling rapidly beneath her chains, and she tried not to think about how she was entirely at Madara's mercy as he went on. "That — is what had given me such pause."

The memories pulled over Sakura's vision as he spoke, the worn recollections of that night she'd first escaped Madara echoing through her in sensations and feeling.

"I am curious how deeply your weakness for me runs." Fingertips ran in a thoughtful trace down Sakura's cheek, hinting along her slender neck; Sakura's eyelids fluttered as she kept them tightly shut, sensing Madara's close proximity, her skin warming from his sheer body heat.

His voice became a pensive murmur. "Unexpectedly, I find myself… conditionally interested."

Sakura opened her eyes, afraid she'd somehow repeat that previous experience should she let it linger on her mind. She stared up into Madara's looming face, more troubled than she was upset by his words, her anger stewing into a blend of stress instead.

"None of it's true. You're wrong," she whispered, her throat tight.

He leaned over her, one arm above her head. She blinked, realising their setting had changed. The two of them stood in an elegant residential room, the windows beyond still tainted red with the Tsukuyomi moon. She could spot the Uchiha prints on the walls; a futon, grand and wide, with a pair of teacups still steaming as if they had been freshly made on a nearby table.

"Am I?" Madara's voice was pure velvet as his thumb chased the bloom of red colouring down her cheek, pausing along her throat where the redness led further beneath the dark robes that her prisoner's rags had become.

Sakura's heart squeezed against her ribcage. It reeled with whiplash, first crunched beneath the cruelty of how he had pointed out her desire with nothing but malice, but now wrenched up to see the deadly serious setting of the home around her. She hated the questions the elegant residence brought to her heart — the way his changed demeanour shot her back through her rebuilt walls into uncertain territory, and she found herself staring into a chasm of conflicts, the answers she needed no longer clear.

Sakura brought her hands to Madara's chest with intention to shove, but held on instead, searching his shadowed expression while keeping him at arm's length. "You're wrong, because you have to be." She inhaled unsteadily, keeping her eyes away from the home around them. "Even if you are right about that night, or anything else…" Sakura hung her head, several pink locks trailing along his shoulder, her eyes falling back shut. "I could never admit that to you. Not with things as they are. And never with this future you've shown me."

"Hn." Madara seemed somewhat satisfied with Sakura's answer, cracking his knuckles and drawing back enough that she lifted her head, staring dully past him as he spoke. "I will have you remember that things are due to change – and soon. No matter how long you think you can prolong this chase of ours, it will draw to a close sooner than you assume." His face was guarded as he eyed where Sakura stood back against the wall, her eyes falling shut in a hopeless expression; shadows drew about the both of their figures. "Consider yourself warned of where this is going," Madara said.

Sakura parted her lips, and he cut her off, the change of his tone back to smooth causing her to open her eyes; she searched his narrowed, inviting stare, his grin subtle and knowing. "You should also consider making it easier for yourself." He reached up, the back of his fingers tracing the soft curve of Sakura's cheek. "A peaceful surrender to me…"

She exhaled unsteadily as his Rinnegan eyes flashed in the light, a hint of heat returning within them. "That, and if you embraced true honesty, would make your life as my perpetual entertainment so much more enjoyable for us both." He overshadowed her as he leaned over her once more, eclipsing Sakura in warm shadow. "I might even consider allowing you to be without the chains, should you choose to be agreeable with me. Perhaps, should you play this little game of ours wisely, I will allow you to live more like this. A taste of freedom, for doing as I bid."

"Madara…" Sakura's eyes were wide, her face having gone mostly pale, a streak of red still marking her cheeks.

"Now choose." Madara tilted his head slightly as he held Sakura's stare. "Will you surrender to the inevitable now, or later? Silk…" he rumbled, tracing the soft texture of her dark robes, "...or chains?"

Sakura blinked, her face blank as Madara's words stood still among her thoughts like a boulder in the heart of a river. She briefly noticed her traditional dark robes, not daring to take a glance at her back.

He was always underestimating her. Undervaluing her. The mockery… the way he used how she felt against her, and his sheer, utter arrogance —

She steeled herself, her fists gripping tightly. She was angry. More than angry, she was on the brink of a thoughtless rage, but she tempered her fury with the single blade of hope she held on to, that Madara may yet be reasoned with. Though he had shown her his callousness, selfishness, and sinister confidence with this future he'd invented, she clung to that glimpse she'd seen beyond his dark front, that glimmer of light beneath that could mean there was still a man beneath the monster.

A man, whose interest in her meant he might, perhaps, listen; perhaps give a little, to let this awful end be adjusted or changed. It was always possible. She had seen genuine desire in his eyes, and it had not simply been a reflection of her own, though perhaps his was drawn simply from awoken lust and selfish greed.

Sakura lifted her head, heart pounding. She searched Madara's imperious face, looking again for that lost soft dimension she'd so briefly observed from before, that had given her a single flame of hope now.

"Would you?" she managed, her throat still tight.

He frowned, folding his arms. "Would I what?"

"Talk with me." Sakura stood taller, refusing to show her doubts as she stood closely to Madara, letting a hand fall lightly along his arm. She kept her voice reigned in tight, hiding the steel beneath, all sweet hope and warmth shown in her words. "I want to meet with you, civilly. If you would be willing… we could try to work things out. Maybe…" She looked back down, finding it hard to get the words out, even though she meant them.

She let her fingers trail down Madara's arm, stopping at his wrist. "Let's work something out in a peaceful discussion. Make a compromise, or if not that, to at least understand each other better." She inhaled unsteadily, her other hand pressing up along his chest, her heartbeat pounding between her ears as her words hung between them. "Would you do that? If you would go so far as to show me this —" Sakura gestured towards the Uchiha home around them — "then we should talk about making a peaceful agreement for some sort of future that's what we would both want. I think it's worth it to at least try."

In Madara's silence, Sakura managed to eke out words that terrified her to verbalise, her voice hushed and sincere. "It's not impossible to find common ground, even between you and me. Things don't have to be this awful future. And…" Her fingers tightened in his sleeves, her blood rushing beneath her skin. "Beyond everything with the war, beyond everything else, I think you could be worth knowing. I could see myself liking you… perhaps even—"

She released a quavering breath before lifting her head, slowly bringing her eyes back to Madara's face. He had been watching her solemnly.

"No."

Sakura froze, her breath held in her throat. Madara scoffed as he shook his head with disdain. "It would be pointless to discuss the war, or indeed peace, at all. There is no compromise that could be made; and I do not see the use in understanding one another more, when the function of what is to come has already been determined." He blinked coldly at her. "Further discussion would be a waste of time."

Sakura was silent as Madara explained further, gesturing towards the bloody red Tsukuyomi moon outside of the far windows. "I did not show you this to invite a debate; merely to clarify what it is we are heading towards. I had grown tired of your denial… your constant attempts to hide from it."

"You wouldn't even try to work something out?" Sakura clenched her fists, red hazing her vision with anger and unexpected pain. "All that hot air from before. Those mentions of desire, of high stakes and games—" She drew a ragged breath, trembling with anger. "But speaking with me like a person rather than like your prisoner would just be a waste of time to you? You wouldn't give just talking with me so much as a chance?"

Madara's stare upon Sakura was cold, and she stepped back as she recognised his answer within his stony expression.

"Nothing has been determined," she hissed at him then, withdrawing another step, pain seizing the edges of her snarl. "It's all in your head. Are you so full of yourself that you think you can tell me what my fate is?" She gripped her fists, her rage toppling loose now. "My fate; our fate, and that of everyone else's?" Sakura bit down as her chest tightened painfully. "You really are that arrogant. You do see me as less than dirt. They were all right about you… you're just a cruel, self-obsessed criminal. I was wrong to think you could even try to be anything otherwise."

She refused to look at Madara, her vision blurred and heated with her harsh epiphany. It had all become so obvious to her now… she had overthought everything with him from before. She had been so naive, trying to see whatever good might remain, to find the man beneath; Madara had no soft side. He never had.

Sakura seized up, tears welling up in her eyes as the realisation came to her. She'd gone in too deep, had let Madara draw too close, and now she was on a frightening trajectory towards becoming exactly what he had shown her; his powerless, heartbroken plaything. If she did not break completely free of him — if she did not win this war against him, she would be damned to be at his mercy the rest of her life: devalued and controlled… tainted and used, living a nightmare with no one left in her life to support or love her, hanging in their perpetual dreams.

Madara's shadow crossed Sakura, the red moonlight catching on the tears that streamed down her face. When a dark hand neared the streaks he observed upon her cheek, Sakura struck his arm away, bringing flashing eyes to his face. "Don't ever touch me again."

Madara's pupils dilated slightly, taking in the simmering hatred in Sakura's face, the unbridled rage in her eyes.

"Take us back. I can't bear to be near you any more." Sakura stood off of the wall, staying far out of his reach as she looked coldly towards the Tsukuyomi moon far out through the window. She wouldn't look at Madara as he stood near her, shadowed features twisting in a dark frown while she slowly shut her eyes.

Sakura swayed where she stood, her head rushing with dizziness so severe she couldn't see. Her legs buckled as her unsteadiness broke her sense of balance.

She leaned gratefully into the wall that appeared, her face sinking into warmth. Sakura breathed unsteadily for a moment, her thoughts scattered. She was completely disoriented, forgetting the situation and nearly herself as well.

She shut her eyes, breathing in pleasant scents while trying to reassert with herself what was going on. She remembered being cold, and she remembered being deeply upset, though now she was confused and exhausted. What had made her so dizzy? Had she been unconscious?

She felt the warm prickle of an exhale that wasn't her own, brushing across her shoulder. Slight movement; a palm shifting along her side, and Sakura realised she was burrowed against a person, not a warm, fabric-swathed wall. Her face was buried against his throat, her hands brought up against his shoulders, her feet surrounded by a pair of boots. The whole of her frame leaned into his where she'd fallen against him rather than to the floor.

Silence blanketed the room around them, the forgotten bowed cultists sharing barely-breathed whispers where they cowered nearby. Sakura opened her eyes to her view of wild white hair and pale skin beneath the lapels of Madara's robe, inhaling sharply through her nose, finally fully remembering all that had happened.

She could feel the intense weight of Madara's stare as he looked down at where she had nearly passed out into his grip. His gloved fingers twitched around her frame.

With the remembrance of Madara's words in the genjutsu, Sakura's eyes fluttered shut once more, her shoulders hunching and heart pinching as she breathed him in. Even with the unfolding of her pain, she hesitated to move, and he made no effort to release her, either.

Across the room, Naruto cleared his throat.

The moment shattered. Sakura shoved backwards from Madara with a sharp exhale. He brushed past her, gloved hand waving dismissively while he strode towards the exit.

Sakura's expression was shadowed as kept herself from following him. Figures all around her were beginning to stir, heads lifting from their reverent bows as all watched Madara's swift exit.

He glanced around the room once he reached the doorway, ignoring Sakura and her twin. "Try this again in the future, all of you, and taste deaths far more miserable than the torture you attempted today."

Sakura watched Madara go, white hair swishing around a corner, robes aflutter; she pressed a hand over her heart with a frown, hearing a different voice growl after him as he went. Why did you stop the torture? and Sakura glared as she recognised Black Zetsu's voice.

"Sakura." She swallowed as Naruto moved into her view, his blue eyes wide upon her with all that he had just witnessed. "Are you all right?"

She forced a smile. "Yeah. It was just a brief genjutsu he used on me, not rough enough for me be dismissed just yet. I'm fine… just got a little dizzy, I guess."

He looked between her and the empty doorway where Madara had been. "What kind of genjutsu? Are you sure you're all right? Things seem totally weird between you guys. Sakura, I think—"

"I don't want to talk about it," she cut in, striding forward as Naruto went on anyway, making a face. "I think Madara likes you." Sakura's bitter laugh echoed throughout the dark corridors.

Naruto followed her to the doorway where Madara had been moments before; he frowned as she glanced cautiously around, as if worried he was still there, before he reached out and touched her shoulder.

"Hey," he said, "I remembered what I was gonna say, earlier."

Sakura glanced at Naruto. "What?"
He was already aglow, and her eyes widened as the soft golden light of his form change lit the darkness. She startled as his hand on her shoulder warmed, and she stood taller as a flood of chakra flowed through her. Her eyes slowly shut as the feeling like caffeine and relief warmed her from head to toe.

"Chakra," Naruto explained unnecessarily with a beaming grin. "From Kurama and me. I hope you can use that to help beat down Madara next you see him."
"Assuming it can all go to my original once I'm dismissed, then of course it'll help," Sakura said carefully, "or even if just a percentage of this comes back to me, it will give me a hell of a second wind." She looked down at her hands and then to Naruto before making a face. "Why didn't you do that so much sooner?"

Naruto rubbed the back of his neck as he shifted back to his usual form with an embarrassed laugh. "Well, I was excited to work with you again, like old times. And, I just plain forgot. Kurama helped remind me; he's just as eager as the rest of us to see Madara get defeated."
Sakura blinked at him affectionately, sighing. "I can't be mad," she sighed, folding her arms with a soft smile. "Thank you. This is going to help me a lot in the fights to come." As her words hung in the quiet between them, Sakura's gaze hardened, her thoughts adrift.

The cultists were finally getting to their feet, far across the basement room. They looked furtively between themselves and where Sakura stood with Naruto, their frightened body language wrought with uncertainty.

"Should we beat 'em up? They deserve it for hurting you." Naruto cracked his knuckles.

"Nah. Let's go." Sakura looked up towards where distant light shone from beneath an upper stairwell door. The thin light of day just barely reached her blood-streaked face. "With my new resolve, I have some things I need to get straight with the rest of my clones. Now that I've realised…" She cut herself off, briefly shutting her eyes, a shiver of taut rage brimming beneath her skin.

"New resolve?" Naruto asked as he followed her up the stairs, noticing the way she clenched her fists, her stare icy upon her path.

"Don't worry about it, Naruto," Sakura told him before making her way up the steps. She and Naruto stepped through into the light of the upstairs hallway. He turned to make his way back towards Konoha, a pack of stolen Union documents at his side, and he caught Sakura's mutter to herself as she stalked towards the sunny light of day at the end of the long corridor. "The bastard thought the chase was on before. Now… he'll never get near me ever again."