It was only due to the recognisable set of patterned knocks that Obito got up, padding over barefoot to the door. He unlatched a chain and unlocked the handle before pulling it open, revealing his expected visitor.
"Hey." He gave her a short nod. "Hurry up, before some idiot sneaks in after you."
Sakura snorted as she stepped in. She shoved the basket she held towards Obito, who blinked in bemusement before accepting it with a good-natured sigh. "You're too kind."
She pointed at the couch nearby as she unslung her bag from her shoulder. "Go sit down. You're not supposed to be on your feet too much."
"Look," he said as he made his way towards the couch she'd gestured at with a scowl, "I've taken care of myself just fine for decades. I don't need you telling me what to do." Obito collapsed into worn leather and cast-aside blankets, the sun warming a square patch of light across the cushions. He ran a hand through his choppy hair with a long, weary sigh, the bright yellow light glowing along his side-profile and down his plain, dark clothes.
"Well, as your officially-assigned medic," Sakura said primly, setting her bag upon the kitchen counter and watching Obito out of the corner of her eye, "I absolutely tell you what to do, at least with medical advice." She rolled her eyes. "You throw around 'decades' like you're ancient, but I know you're only as old as Kakashi-sensei."
Obito's brows twitched in response; a frown settled upon his grooved features. Sakura watched him stare out the window at his view of the crowded, bustling Konoha streets. "You don't have to be so independent anymore," she said softly, "you're surrounded by people who love you again."
Obito glanced at the basket of food she'd brought him, his expression wooden; his appetite dulled as faces of beloved dead passed through the back of his mind. He was numb to reassurances at this point, no matter how genuinely meant they might be. There would be no shaking his constant dark mood, not with the kind of past he carried on his shoulders.
It didn't help that Sakura was her spitting image, just in pink — and with similar skills, even a similar personality, if much less shy. How ironic and somewhat annoying that she had been chosen to be his medical assistant during his recovery.
Leaning back into the couch with tension running across his frame, Obito selected an apple, taking a generous bite of it. He eyed Sakura from the side. "Fruit's fine, but you should have brought me dango instead."
She snorted. "Dango's not as good for you." She turned back to what she was doing, her gaze travelling along the cluttered counter. Obito noticed her observing the mess out of the corner of his eye. There were various untouched boxes of chocolates, cards, and letters that cluttered the other half of the kitchen counter; some of the envelopes were colourful, with hand-written addresses and flowery handwriting, which were left unopened. Others that appeared to be from businesses and official sources were half-out of their envelopes, having been read and put back.
Sakura picked up one of the untouched lavender ones, tracing the neat handwriting with a frown.
The couch springs creaked as Obito scoffed, stretching his arms back behind his head. "Fan mail. It's been non-stop since my exoneration; I stopped reading them. They make me want to throw up."
He wasn't paying attention as she muttered half to herself. "Be glad you're not the object of a cult's affection, if so little makes you nauseous." She hummed a hymn-like song as she plucked one of the boxes of chocolates as well as several tools from her bag.
Obito's gaze strayed back to Sakura curiously. She was in a particularly good mood, as she had been for her last several visits; her brightness only continued to increase more as time passed, cranked up by some unknown source.
He took a moody bite of his apple as he recalled her recent escapades. "You, Naruto and Kakashi didn't have to say all you said to the council about me," he groused. "And to Tsunade, and the rest. I don't know how you managed to convince even the old codgers so thoroughly."
"Easy," Sakura replied, opening the chocolate box and carrying it with her as she strode over to sit beside Obito on the couch. She popped a truffle into her mouth and set the box on one of the end tables where it was nearly engulfed in surrounding clutter. A passing glance revealed recent newspapers and official missives from the Council, including a few letters bearing the Hokage's seal.
"You had a curse-tag in your heart," Sakura went on. "Essentially, you were a prisoner of war ever since you got it, and everything you did by extent after that until Kakashi removed it was against your will — or at least, heavily influenced by the tag." She shrugged. "It negates the guilt of your actions. The straightforward terms of the tag forcing you to act within Madara's interests weren't difficult to explain to anyone. And with all of us unanimously testifying that this is true…"
"Even so." Obito tossed the apple core. It arced through the air and clattered into the trash bin across the room. "Even if they've shifted the burden of all my past actions officially onto Madara, I don't deserve exoneration. I don't want it." His hatred of Madara itched under his skin, and his fingers twitched as he had to consciously quell a murderous impulse rising from the back of his throat. All he wanted, all he needed was to see that bastard dead a hundred times over. Justice for his ruined life. Justice for Rin.
"You don't get a choice." He glanced sharply at Sakura as she ran a sterilising wipe over her stethoscope, polishing it and setting it around her neck; she met his eyes, a serious look settled across her features. "It's what's been determined as the truth of the matter. Even with the gravity of your past actions, and even if you had actually wanted to do what you were made to do many of those times, it's been legally declared that you aren't responsible."
"I still feel responsible." Obito looked away with a rankling scowl. A long, comprehensive list of his crimes ran down the back of his mind like it had been etched behind his eyes; terrorism, murders, thoughtless slaughter—
Sakura made animated, angry gestures, interrupting his dark digression of thought. "Stop fighting it! I know you have guilt over everything, but you're definitively upon the path of redemption now." She gestured all around them, at his new apartment, comfortably furnished and well-lit with sunny light from the late-summer afternoon. "Enjoy the forgiveness and love being poured over you. Enjoy your new life. You deserve to feel something other than hatred and darkness. You've got a second chance to be whomever you actually want to be, and to regain lost time with old friends and family." She folded her arms with a huff, popping another chocolate into her mouth.
Obito raised a brow as Sakura made a face. "Hazelnut." She chewed and swallowed with a grimace. "...I hate hazelnut."
He made a soft laugh. "I don't. Give me that."
"It's yours anyway." Sakura leaned back as Obito took the box, thumbing through and finding the matching hazelnut truffle; she sighed. "You shouldn't be eating treats…"
"What was that about how I should enjoy life more?"
Sakura smirked, making no further protest as he savoured the truffle. She adjusted her stethoscope over her ears and leaned over, setting the scope upon Obito's heart over his dark shirt.
"Sounding good." She pulled back. "How's your fatigue? Has it gotten much better?"
"Much." He picked at his fingers idly, the sun warming his pale hand. "I hear they're going to grant me a jonin title as well as these living arrangements. That, and the public announcement... the letters, and all this attention. It's too much."
"Naruto and his big damn mouth. The jonin thing isn't official yet!" Sakura poked at Obito's arm. "If you do what I tell you and take care of yourself properly, you'll be healthy in time to maybe see about doing jonin things, once you get the title. Ahem. If you get the title."
He didn't realise he was smiling until Sakura smiled back. Setting her stethoscope to the side, she patted around for the other tools she'd brought over. "Not too much longer," she promised then, "you're recovering well from losing the Ten-Tails. I'd say you could maybe look forward to being fully healthy in a few weeks."
There was a nervous flutter of knocks upon the front door, causing both of their heads to turn. Sakura blinked in confusion as Obito rolled his eyes, sinking deeper into the couch cushions with a long-suffering sigh. Again… the fourth gaggle of idiots this week alone.
More knocks, and this time giggling; Sakura glanced at him with raised brows. "You get a lot of lady visitors?"
"Ever since that damned news story proclaiming me the 'Long-Lost Uchiha War Hero', yeah."
"I suppose," Sakura hummed to herself. She tugged a blood-pressure measuring cuff around Obito's arm. "It makes sense. All of you pretty Uchiha must be used to having women falling at your feet no matter what you do." She scowled at something she was remembering while Obito shook his head, amused and annoyed. "Can you do me a favour?" he asked as Sakura waited for the measurement to come up on the handheld device attached to the cuff, "can you scare them off? I'm not interested in any of them. Also, don't call me pretty."
"Come now, give them a chance," Sakura said absentmindedly, writing his blood pressure in her notebook. "Well, actually," she said, meeting Obito's narrowed dark stare, "you can give ladies a chance once another month or so has passed. You might be getting closer to full recovery, but I wouldn't trust that your stamina has fully returned just yet."
Red crept across Obito's cheeks as Sakura laughed, getting to her feet. She shoved a hand through her pink locks and crossed back over to her bag on the counter. There was a swing in her hips, a flush in her cheeks, and he knew that it wasn't because of him.
"What do you know about all of that, anyway?" Obito shot back as Sakura dug through her bag, putting her scope and blood pressure device back. "Young as you are."
Sakura cleared her throat, and the way she avoided looking over at Obito was conspicuous. His eyes slowly narrowed as his suspicions deepened with her quick deflection. "You're presumptive, aren't you?"
Both of them ignored the hushed voices behind the door, Obito's stare narrowing upon Sakura's red cheeks. "What, did Sasuke finally reciprocate? I hope not. You're too good for him."
"Obito!" Sakura protested, eyes dilating upon him before she shook her head with an uneasy laugh. "Also, no. He won't even look at me, really, but that's okay. And speaking of; don't talk of things you don't know about, either."
"I was there when he tried to kill you, remember," Obito let out an irate huff. "He nearly killed that Karin girl at the same time, too. I'm surprised either of you were so blatantly interested in him after that incident."
Sakura blinked at Obito; he watched her as she briefly reflected, the realisation flashing past her eyes as she remembered that Obito had indeed been present that day, though fully masked and robed in his Akatsuki garb.
She grimaced, zipping up her bag with a sigh. "Yeah, well. I guess I get where you're coming from with that," she agreed.
"So? Who did reciprocate, then?" Obito popped another chocolate into his mouth, continuing to observe the red flags across Sakura's expressive features. It was more than obvious she had someone, in the least; she was definitely infatuated. Her embarrassment upon being called out for it only confirmed it further, and he hoped that her newfound relationship wouldn't distract her from the war. Her mission against Madara was too important for her to let herself get sidetracked with trivial things like love.
Sakura lifted her hands to cover her cheeks as they coloured bright red like waving flags, but Obito had already seen her scarlet expression. He eyed her knowingly. "You make jokes about my love life, I get to joke about yours. I remember looking exactly like you do now over a girl when I was just a kid myself. It is dangerous to fall in love, you know."
He smirked when she flushed, turning away without bothering to deny anything. "I don't remember you ever being quite so cagey about this subject when we chat, each visit," Obito pointed out, finding that he genuinely wanted to know who it was that was distracting her so that he might intervene should it start slowing her down in her mission. He kept a friendly enough look on his face so that she might be tempted into divulging. Lovers adored talking about each other, after all, so he didn't imagine it would take much to get Sakura to spill about whomever her new infatuation was.
"So who is it? Don't tell me it's Naruto?"
"Absolutely not!" Sakura shook her head vigorously, shoving the straps of her bag over her shoulder. She adjusted her qipao self-consciously, slipping her sandals back on. "You don't want to know, so just drop it, okay? I can't — won't talk about it." She shook her head as Obito's gaze narrowed upon her.
He leaned forward on the couch, tapping his fingers along his knees. "Look, I won't judge you. You don't need to be so afraid of what others think."
Sakura choked a little and coughed, clearing her throat, turning her red face towards the door as she spoke. "Well anyway, your vitals and health seem good, just take it easy and rest. I'll make sure the boys come check on you and be certain you're having regular meals. And um, make sure you eat real food. Tell Kakashi to cook for you, don't let Naruto just feed you ramen. I should get going."
"I will find out, Sakura." Obito's words haunted Sakura as she shoved her way out of the door, his remaining red eye tracking her as she went.
Sakura began to push past the hushed group of women outside of Obito's front door as she went, only to halt, swerve, and gasp. Grabbing her by the arm, Sakura pulled her abruptly away from the group of giggling ladies, her fingers digging into her pale skin. "What the hell are you doing here?!"
Ino shook out of Sakura's grip, shoving the flowers she held into another lady's hand and turning red. "Nothing. I was just going."
Sakura recaptured her, dragging her down the side of the street and past Obito's window. Once she was sure they were away from his view, she jabbed an accusatory finger at Ino, her other hand on her hip. "I can't believe you. You're trying to hit on Obito? What's wrong with you?"
"Look, okay," Ino huffed, turning pink, "Do you even use your eyes when you visit him? Look at him. The scars, and dramatic eye, and Uchiha-ness? And his whole story is so, so… tragic and badass. And kind of hot? I don't know." She tucked her hair behind her ear, flicking some of the flecks of mascara away from beneath her eyes.
Sakura narrowed a judgemental look upon Ino with her hands on her hips. "Tragic story aside, Obito's too old for you. Leave him alone." She ignored the memory of Madara telling her about his ninety years of age, folding her arms as Ino glared back at her. "He's not that much older. What, are you his keeper?"
"Medical assistant, not keeper," Sakura replied owlishly. She poked Ino in the chest where they stood at the side of the street, Ino's back to the wall of a small bookshop. "He's become a good friend of mine as well as my fellow teammate, and I'm looking out for his well-being. He has to rest and recover right now, and all the harassment from people trying to get in his pants isn't helping. I thought you were crazy about Sasuke? You were gushing over Sai the last time we caught up, too."
"Who are you to talk? I might have a type, but so do you. I heard…" Ino got a particularly mean smile on her face as she leaned in, voice lowering. "I heard you got it on with old man Uchiha Madara himself."
"What!" Sakura stiffened, nearly dropping her medical bag. She scowled, adjusting the strap over her shoulder and shaking her head.
She was aware that rumours from her first mission report with the way she'd escaped Madara with a stolen liplock would spread over time, especially with Naruto's penchant for gossip; she found that this half-expected teasing from those rumours didn't bother her much anymore. She recalled the memory with some fondness now that so many weeks had passed, pressing a hand over her slight smile. "It wasn't quite like that."
Ino's shriek rang through the streets. "Wait, it's actually true?!"
"No. Not the way you put it. Shhh," Sakura hushed her. "I know we haven't talked in a while. We'll have to catch up soon. I know I've been busy and please don't get mad at me for not telling you more right now, but I really should—"
"As payment for ignoring your best friend for this long," Ino informed Sakura primly, "You're not only going to divulge everything to me about what you've been up to, but you're also going to let me come with you on one of your medical check-ins with Obito. I want to meet him myself."
"You and Karin are the nosiest people," Sakura grumbled. She sighed, pushing a hand through her hair, the sun beating down on her head. "Look, I can't actually tell you anything related to my mission right now. It's too risky while everything's still underway."
Ino pouted. "Come on. I thought we were close. You're supposed to tell me everything."
Sakura shivered involuntarily, causing Ino to eye her quizzically; when Sakura sucked in a sharp breath, cursing softly, Ino folded her arms. "What? You're acting weird. Well, weirder than you've already been acting."
Ino's eyes widened as finger-shaped indents appeared around Sakura's waist, just before she was wrenched bodily backwards by an invisible force. Sakura let out a startled laugh, wriggling in an unseen grip as she was dragged into the street. "What are you doing!"
She dropped her bag as she swatted at something Ino couldn't see. Sakura's voice was a tinkling giggle ringing above the heads of confused people in the crowded street. "Damn it— can you grab my bag, Ino? I'm uh — hahaha, stop it! — Bye, Ino, I'll talk to you later!"
Ino blinked uncomprehendingly as Sakura was whisked across the road through the crowds, turning and looking up at something she couldn't see. A smile curved Sakura's lips as she was invisibly pulled away, fingers catching in an unseen force; she made no effort to break free, feet moving like she was amidst a dance as she was swept past staring civilians and through food stands into shadows.
Ino was quick to pick up Sakura's dropped bag before someone else did, and she looked back up, only to see that Sakura was already gone.
It was too strange. She couldn't just let Sakura leave like that, not without some sort of explanation, even if she seemed far from displeased with her bizarre exit. Ino hefted the medical bag and jogged over to Obito's front steps, sliding it behind a flower pot so it wasn't in view of the street. On quick feet she pivoted towards the alley she'd seen Sakura be pulled into, her ice-blonde hair a swirl around her shoulders.
She kept her footsteps perfectly silent even through the din of the crowded main street, flattening herself against the side of a glass shopfront and glancing carefully into the mouth of the alley.
Shadows; emptiness. Stray litter drifted in the breeze; old flyers covered both sides of the mouth of the alley, the Tsukuyomi Union's Rinnegan-inspired symbol staring out in a hundred different iterations from each page's face. The quiet was humid and heavy, the distant skies heavy with future storms that scented the air with petrichor.
If Sakura was still around, she wasn't this close to the main road. Ino slid into the shadows, using every skill in stealth she could remember: she'd find out what her best friend was up to, just yet. Obito and her potential in for talking with him could wait.
"Could you have been any more bold?" came Sakura's irritated words, and Ino sucked in a silent breath. Sakura sounded like she was within this complex of little side-streets, perhaps a turn or two away, and it wasn't Ino she was talking to. She held perfectly still, thrilling at the chance to get some of the little details about Sakura's secretive misadventures.
"Ino's going to cross-interrogate me now," Sakura was wheedling, "couldn't you have waited until she and I were done talking?"
"I can be bolder."
Ino's blood ran cold at the sound of that someone's voice. With her spiking pulse roaring in her ears, instinct drove her to dance back out of the alley in a skitter of graceful steps. Breathing a little harder like she'd just disengaged from battle, Ino immersed herself within the safety of the crowded street.
She was the only unmoving figure in a flow of busy people. She stared at the alley, adrenaline rushing in her veins from her fight-or-flight response.
Was that Madara who spoke? Or someone else whose voice was like a blade sheathed in velvet?
Ino shook her head. She must be mistaken. She'd only heard Madara's voice in the war from a distance, and wasn't familiar with it by any means. Why did she jump to such a ridiculous conclusion? She must just be on edge from the guilty excitement of eavesdropping on Sakura, who was one of few people blunt enough to knock Ino upside the head should she catch her in the act.
Hmph. Ino's gaze skittered along the rooftops, finding no convenient place to eavesdrop from above; but hiding in the shadows didn't seem that good either. With a shrug, she stepped demurely back into the alley, her ears sensitive to every sound.
"—you can't just accuse me of such a thing! I work with a lot of different people in my line of work, Obito included, and what happened between you and I was totally different! You're just…"
Sakura trailed off. Her voice was softer when she spoke up again, her audible anger gone from whatever her mysterious company had said in the time Ino had backed away. "Wait…" Rustling sounds, with Sakura's quiet, pleased, smug little question: "Are you jealous?"
Silence, and Sakura's unseen smile was written all over her tone. "You are. I wasn't aware," she murmured, "that you had staked any claims on me."
"No…" That dark voice was authoritative, calm. A pause; Ino's mind was running through several theories while he continued. "Not yet."
"Dare I ask if you intend to?"
"Hn." Shadows moved, and Ino shifted further back, straining her ears to continue to listen. Something about Sakura's stranger was inexplicably terrifying. She knew that aura of darkness, power, and lethal confidence must be from him. "You like asking obvious questions," he commented.
"I prefer when you spell things out for me. I can never be sure with you otherwise." Sakura's soft huff followed her words, and Ino could hear the affection lifting her tone.
She and this stranger spoke familiarly, intimately; this was certainly whomever Sakura had been not-so-secretly dating as of late, just as rumours had whispered through the grapevine. Ino had spotted the subtle eyeshadow and mascara and smelled the sweet strawberry perfume on Sakura, but hadn't thought too much of her carefully put-together appearance until now.
Ino held back an annoyed groan at herself. It was so obvious: Sakura rarely bothered with makeup, the extra effort often not worth it for long hospital shifts or gruelling training in the field. As such, it was so clear to her that she wasn't wearing it just for herself: it had to be for this frightening, mysterious man she spoke with.
Regardless of her survival instincts demanding she run, Ino stayed right where she was, wanting to glean whatever more that she could. Though she wanted to believe otherwise, she had a feeling Sakura had every intention of keeping this man a secret.
Hurt squeezed Ino's heart briefly. Did Sakura think she'd judge her choice? Didn't she trust her best friend anymore?
After a pause in which there was more subtle rustling and a short, audible inhale, the deep voice gave Sakura his reply. "The answer is that I do not think I need to for now. Not… officially."
"It's very presumptive to assume." Ino could easily see how Sakura put her hands on her hips without having to look around the corner at where she argued with her stranger. It sounded like she was attempting to be teasing, but Ino could easily catch the serious undertones in her annoyed words. "How do you know I won't just — go off with someone else?"
Her stranger's chuckle was sinister enough that Ino took another silent step backwards towards the sunny street. She ran a hand over her forehead, finding that she was sweating. Gods. Even if this man could not be Madara, he had all the frightening, unapologetic evil of his presence.
Velvet was drenched in heat as he answered now, and Ino began to feel like she was intruding on something she didn't want to witness.
"You won't." Short, soft breaths, a suspension of silence, and a slight wafting of a scent like evergreens on fire reached Ino's nose. "I would not allow it, anyway."
His voice dropped into a silken murmur Ino couldn't quite hear, followed by Sakura's breathless sigh.
With the urge to draw closer and eavesdrop more effectively came the question Ino had to face with herself: did she want to know, and upset Sakura, but find out her secret? Or did she want to back off and just quietly pretend this never happened? This man… something was off about him. Was he a danger to Sakura as well?
"Well, know that I don't have other pursuers, at the moment. I've got my hands full enough dealing with you." Sakura pressed her hands up along Madara's chest, enjoying the heady thrill of his company while irritated with him at once. She wrested the little smile from her face as she searched his glinting mismatched eyes. "But — are you pursuing anyone else?"
Madara withdrew from Sakura's space, forcing her hands to fall away from him. With an apathetic expression, he folded his arms, standing back. "Yes; of course I am."
What?
He watched the surprise heat into a tight anger along Sakura's features. Shrinking into herself, she fought back a wave of tightness across her throat, barely processing his curt, cold answer.
At least he had been honest. Sakura looked away from Madara to hide her expression of hurt, suddenly feeling silly in the subtle extra efforts she'd made to be somewhat presentable; folding her arms over her chest, she got up off of the wall where he'd had her cornered, her mind already halfway across Konoha to her favourite training ground to destroy.
Just as she was turning to leave, the anger shivering along her frame, Madara leaned into her ear. He had a mean smirk as he caged her back into his space. "...Your other clones."
Slowly, Sakura gradually relaxed; relief flickered across her face before she turned her head in a swirl of pink. Scowling, she shoved at him. "You're awful."
"Who's the hypocrite now?" Madara teased her, and she huffed, trying to shove past him again. He caught both of her arms, leaning into her and enjoying her warm shudder as he pressed her bodily against the wall. "I am glad that it is only my name you breathe while pleasuring yourself."
Sakura seized up. Her wide-eyed gaze swept frantically over the dangerous smile he wore, her squeak rising between them. "That was real?!"
Madara's smile widened, and she pulled at his robes, her voice a little rough in her fervent demand. "Forget that ever happened."
"No." He drew a finger along her throat, his other hand snaking along the curve of her hip, fingers rippling the fabric of her qipao. "I will never forget, and I'll take pleasure in reminding you."
"Pervert," Sakura breathed, and Madara didn't need to point out her hypocrisy again. She pulled him closer as he seized her hip, tugging her against him, her excited, nervous breaths coming out in short puffs.
She'd slid her leg up the back of his, and he held her gaze as he took hold of her thigh, dragging it up until her knee pressed in along his side and her calf hooked around his lower back. Sakura's stare remained locked with Madara's, and their challenging looks matched, as if silently daring the other to back down from the sheer heat between them.
His glare burned into her, and it felt like he was commanding her to melt as he slowly dipped his head, dragging his teeth along the fine edge of Sakura's jaw. She tilted her head back, her captive leg tightening over his side and clamping him harder against her as his teasing ministrations sent any coherent thoughts simmering away. Slightly smiling lips dragged down the soft skin of her throat, along her neck; a sly gloved hand unclasped Sakura's qipao collar while she was distracted.
It fell open enough to give him more access to smooth, tan skin, flushed with warmth. An impatient flick, and more red fabric shifted to reveal the tops of her chest-bindings, the collar open wide over her slim, toned shoulders and flushed neck. Short pink locks slid back from her sweet skin, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Madara returned to her impatiently, tasting, savouring; daring her to stop him, daring her to let him progress. The teasing, dangerous scrape of his teeth along her shoulder and a little lower towards her forbidden curves elicited a sharp, pleased sound from her that he sought to hear again.
Sakura's hands along Madara's chest seized, her eyes fluttering wide open for a moment: what was she doing? but his hot breath was on her shoulder, sliding fingers along her throat moving down to settle just above her breasts, resetting her mind away from doubt in the heat of the moment. Heat, mindless, blinding, having ignited hotter than either had allowed before. She had never been so consumed by the desire to give and to give in.
She rippled against Madara as he gripped her waist, hoisting her upwards. Her back scraped against the alley wall, and he supported her weight, meeting her heated gaze with a sly grin. Now… they were back at a precipice, and this one was much more dangerous, like standing upon the edge of a platform at the top of a mountain. Sakura was so immersed in the sparks flying between them that she almost couldn't see the drop, the both of her legs clamping around his waist in inexplicable anticipation, damning and forgetting the world around them.
Her heart squeezed, and it paused her. Sakura held still for a moment as she searched Madara's face, almost frightened by the affection wrenching her pulse into jagged percussion.
Sakura swallowed hard. In the push-and-pull of whatever this had become, it was like she had completely forgotten who Madara really was. The lines between them had become so blurred that they both acted as if there had never been lines in the first place; making each of them bolder and bolder, perhaps to a fault. In black and white, she should be fighting him; but they sunk deeper into a gray area splashed with fiery colours, recklessly hurtling deeper into it as if they had never been enemies, destined to become the opposite instead.
The question repeated in her moment of clarity, pulling her a little further out of the haze between their burning bodies. What was she doing? Was it already too late to turn back, and did she even want to?
Sakura startled out of her reverie as Madara's expression suddenly became a scowl. She startled doubly as Madara's wild white hair melted into his vivid obsidian henge, his Six Paths robes becoming nondescript dark ones. She squeaked when he pressed against her, his untamed mane shadowing Sakura in his presence where it fell around her exposed neck and shoulders.
With her obscured in his arms, Madara slowly turned his head, a single black, burning iris shifting over to the person that was standing at the end of the alleyway.
Having not realised they had witnesses, Sakura gasped. She tried to scrabble out of Madara's hold in a rush, causing him to look back to her with a frown; she would have leapt out of his arms if it were not for his secure grip on her.
The knot in his brows expressed both his annoyance and his silent assurance it was fine, even as the person stepped forward, blue eyes bright. "Sakura! Are you all right?"
Sakura gasped, pulling closer to Madara and allowing more of his wild black mane to hide her in his arms. She pushed her open qipao back over her chest, clasping it hurriedly. Her legs squeezed around him; he shifted, and she set her feet back on the ground, pulling back from Madara and adjusting her ruffled clothes, still breathing hard.
Shoving a hand through her hair, Sakura shot Madara a warning look still laced with heat before gently shoving him back, her voice soft and slightly husky still even after she cleared her throat. "Forget this happened, too," she said.
His dark eyes narrowed upon her: she sensed his no without him saying it, and she smiled to herself even as she strode towards Ino with a shaky huff. Joining her, she glanced backwards once only to see that Madara had already disappeared.
Ino glanced back too, a worried look on her face. "Sakura—"
Sakura held her breath, and Ino turned her head, her tone demanding and blue eyes wide. "Who was that?!"
Relief, and Sakura found she was more than happy to endure Ino's interrogation now that she was certain her increasingly treacherous secret was still a secret. She sensed the intense weight of Madara's eyes upon her from somewhere she couldn't see as she and Ino stepped back out into the street.
Several heads lifted as the doors to the Hokage's office opened, and Naruto's greeting was the loudest as Sakura stood before the wide desk with stiff posture. "Hey! It's good to see you!"
"Hey, Naruto, hey, Lady Tsunade," she greeted with a smile, "Just here to give my report." She gave a respectful nod to Shizune, who emerged from nearby with Tonton in her arms.
Naruto stood tall beside Tsunade behind the Hokage desk so that he might get a better glimpse of Sakura from behind the towering stacks of paperwork. Tsunade was still finishing writing notes along an unfurled scroll; she lifted a hand both in greeting and in gesture to wait a moment. The office was a quiet bubble within the noisy heart of Konoha. Crowded streets brought distant sounds of life from below. Birds squawked beyond the windows, the buzzing of late-summer cicadas audible from one that was cracked open to let in the cool breeze. A fan hummed in the corner, causing corners of pages in the paperwork piles to flutter.
Sakura stood in obedient silence, her eyes on the floor. She clutched the small pack at her side tightly, one hand within its open mouth; sweat pearled along her forehead.
Immediately sensing something was off, Naruto stood back, his second glance over her more worried and pointed than the previous.
Sakura overall looked well. In fact, as Naruto leaned back against the wall beside the window with a quiet exhale, he saw that Sakura looked better than she ever had. The circles beneath her eyes were gone, the subtle signs of constant stress missing from her hale face. She looked like she'd been more fastidious than usual in her appearance, as well; she had her hair carefully arranged with her hitai-ate headband, glossy with conditioner, her red qipao looking new, her clothes ironed and without a spot of dirt. She even had a glittering around her eyes that might be makeup, though Naruto barely knew anything about that.
When had she started wearing that? And he could smell a subtle, fruity scent on her like perfume, which was also a bit unusual.
Perhaps she was just feeling confident with her recent mission successes? Naruto tilted his head, confused. Sakura certainly wasn't jazzing up her appearance for Sasuke; he knew Sasuke wasn't around today, which she'd know as well, and when he thought about it, he hadn't seen her show interest in him in a long while.
Naruto blinked thoughtfully, supposing that wasn't so bad. It wasn't like she was upset with Sasuke. He'd seen her toss him casual greetings in passing and exchange brief words during a recent team meeting, but she didn't linger like she used to, didn't make the extra little efforts that used to so easily betray her perpetual infatuation with him.
Even Sasuke had noticed. Naruto recalled with an uneasy scratching along the back of his head how much more cantankerous he had been lately. Things were still tense, even after he and Sasuke had patched things up somewhat; he was ever so dark, but his moods kept getting worse. Hopefully, that had nothing to do with Naruto teasing him about Sakura.
Regardless of Sakura's general appearance indicating her glowing well-being, Sakura's current mood visibly emanated stress. It squeezed the corners of her eyes, and she gripped what he now could see were two file folders that were tucked in the dark of her pack. She held them so tightly her knuckles were white.
"Right." Tsunade lifted her head, bringing her sharp gaze to Sakura. "Report."
"I have it right here," Sakura said as her attention jerked back to Tsunade. For a moment, she looked blank, as if being pushed to make a decision without knowing what to choose.
After a pause long enough that both Shizune and Tsunade opened their mouths to ask, something flickered behind Sakura's eyes before her expression hardened. Her fingers in the bag shifted, and she pulled out a plain manila folder filled with papers. She zipped her pack back up as she approached the desk, the second file left abandoned in the safe dark of the bag.
With all the indecision gone from her expression, Sakura handed Tsunade her chosen folder. Naruto watched curiously as Tsunade flicked through it; she hummed, pausing upon one page and frowning.
"Ineffective?"
Sakura nodded curtly. Tsunade's amber gaze slid back to her, narrowing. "Kakashi, Shikamaru, Tenten, and all of their reporting shinobi unanimously agreed in their reports that it was effective. I would ask if this is a typo…" Tsunade's painted nail traced down the neat handwriting upon the report. "...but you say it more than once."
Sakura stood up taller. There was something fiercely resolved behind her stony expression as she spoke in a short, respectful tone. "I'm telling you that it wasn't effective. They only witnessed the initial damage of the glass attack. They didn't see what I observed afterwards." She straightened a little, swallowing hard. "Madara's regenerative abilities allowed him to negate the damage even mid-fight with me. His body expelled the glass pieces on his own." She smiled a small, tight smile. "So that's what I mean by ineffective! Maybe it worked to slow him down for a very brief time, and I respect the efforts of our forces, as well as creativity; but it just won't work against a man like Madara." Her fingers twitched at her sides.
"Hmm." Tsunade bent back over Sakura's report, her frown deepening. "I was certain it would work."
Sakura shifted uncomfortably where she stood; Naruto watched her in silence, a knot drawing between his brows. He had been worried before, and now the feeling sank deeper, into a cold churning in his gut. It shocked him. It worried him, and his heart beat slowly with the realisation that she was lying.
"What a shame," Tsunade went on with a sigh, closing the report and setting it aside, "I suppose we're back to the drawing board. We'll take a look at any and all of the new data you've brought to us today and come up with something that does work."
"That's good," Sakura answered. Her gaze strayed over to Naruto; she met his eyes, offering him a sweet smile he recognised as false.
Why? Naruto stepped towards her, fully intending to corner her about this as soon as they were both out of this office. Why was Sakura being so cagey? What exactly was she lying about? Was it every word she'd said; and if so, what reason would she have to do so? He needed to know. Perhaps it was a misunderstanding.
Naruto belatedly realised as Sakura ran a hand through her hair with a much more genuine smile that she and Tsunade had resumed talking. "I'm glad to report that both Might Guy and Uchiha Obito are recovering unexpectedly well." Sakura brightened, standing taller. "Guy's new leg seems properly integrated and healed. I'm confident that he'll be able to walk on his own after completing the physical therapy program I've set in place for him."
Tsunade nodded, amber eyes glittering over her clasped hands as she listened. "Obito is impatient to make use of his newly-awarded jonin status," Sakura continued with a soft huff. "I think he's getting ready to kill me for making him stay in house arrest this long, but another couple of weeks, and he should be fit for duty."
"Excellent. It sounds like it won't be an issue to assign him to Team Seven's major upcoming mission." Tsunade sat up in her chair, leaning forward. She steepled her fingers as she regarded Sakura with pride. "You've been doing well, Sakura."
Sakura's cheeks flushed from Tsunade's words. "Well, I, um, I'm only happy to do my job, and my mission."
"Let's get ramen after this, Sakura," Naruto spoke up, burning with kindly curiosity more than anything else. He itched to question her, wanting to know what it is she must be feeling so worried about that she felt she needed to hide it from her report. He felt certain he'd understand, and looked forward to catching up with her in general. He hadn't been able to get more than passing greetings out of her since that library mission.
Naruto made a face as he remembered moments from that day. How he had had fun annoying Sasuke with dramatised recounts of what had happened, though he himself had a lingering sense of unease from it. It felt like he was missing something, something significant, though he couldn't put his finger on what it was.
Sakura glanced over at Naruto with her lips parted to speak when the doors behind her thundered open. She read the shock and anger sweeping across their faces — Tsunade leaping to her feet with fists ready, Shizune gasping and drawing her blade, Naruto's eyes widening and hands lifting defensively.
Shutting her eyes, Sakura released a sigh of understanding.
Without so much as glancing backwards, Sakura lifted her hands placatingly, shaking her head. "It's okay, he's just here for me." She sucked in a breath as gloved fingers slid in around her waist.
Anger tightened her face after a moment's hesitation; Madara wrenched her backwards against him, and he grinned along the side of her cheek, his jagged white hair falling around the both of their shoulders as his dangerous eyes flicked from Shizune and Tsunade to Naruto. "Correct indeed. Say your goodbyes, now."
"Get your filthy hands off of her, Madara!" Tsunade slammed her fists down on her desk in her blazing rage, sending papers flying. Shizune scrabbled with panic before brandishing her kunai. Naruto stepped forward with his hands already in position to make a Rasengan, its blue light filling the room.
Sakura waved them off again. "It's not worth fighting! I'm just a clone! I'll be fine!" The opposing three synchronously gasped when Madara threw her over his shoulder, causing her to squeak with surprise.
Madara turned nonchalantly, Six Paths robes aflutter in black and white with Sakura's wild splash of pink. He strode back out of the office, leaving angry shouts behind him as he kicked the office doors back shut, Sakura pounding her fists along his back with a variety of colourful curses.
Naruto gestured quickly at Tsunade and Shizune with a rushed "I'll handle this!" before dashing out after them, following the shouts of fleeing civilians and Anbu that flitted back and forth through the shadows of the halls. He shot reassuring words to those who passed him in repeats of what he'd told Tsunade as he went, still able to hear Sakura's voice from around a corner. He ran towards the sound, realising Madara had taken her down several flights of stairs.
Questions stamped in bold across Naruto's vision repeated constantly as he ran. She'd been quick to mask it with her curses and fist-pounding act, but her expression of anger had been contrived, not genuine, which was obvious to Naruto even if it wasn't to anyone else. And the familiar way Madara gripped her, clearly without intention to harm as he usually would — it made Naruto wonder if his own eyes were lying to him. Why take her away? And why without a fight? Madara hadn't cast so much as one attack. The only logical reason Naruto could come up with is that Madara didn't want to dismiss Sakura's clone too soon with rough contact or in a fight against others.
Naruto dodged the attack that came from his left, somersaulting to the side in time to dive through the hidden door that was thundering shut. It closed a scant breath behind him.
Without glancing back, Naruto jogged down the dark hallway, certain to his bones that this is where Madara had taken her.
An annoyed, gravelly voice somewhere behind Naruto sounded to life as he tracked further down towards where Sakura had been stolen away to. He had no interest in the passing observation that he'd never seen or heard of this particular tunnel system before, the air filled with dust as if this place hadn't been traversed in decades. "Forget the chase," Black Zetsu growled, "it's just a clone; why bother? He's killed all the others without you caring before."
Naruto scowled as he ran up a stony set of stairs after what felt like an eternally long stretch of hallway. "Shut up. Of course I care."
He emerged into a new hall that was long, but not as dark, a few dusty shafts of light giving the long corridor a sense of vague sunniness; but it was not his surroundings that halted Naruto where he stood, nor even the figures that then immediately rose to block his path.
The image burned into his memory.
It had only been a glimpse; Sakura, fists breaking open as she turned her face into Madara's drifting mane. Madara had adjusted her, slinging her into his arms instead of keeping her thrown over his shoulder. With an amused, half-annoyed glance at him, she'd relaxed into his hold, allowing him to sweep her into the darkness without so much as a lingering protest.
Black and White Zetsu stood directly in Naruto's path, flat eyes bored and irate. "Turn back."
"What's…" Naruto blinked at them, his brows drawn. "What's going on?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Zetsu exhaled, one white hand tapping restlessly while his black one pointed towards the way they'd come. "There's no need to fight nor die today. We'll see you back on the battlefield."
To the Zetsu's mutual surprise, Naruto slowly nodded. He was pale, and his eyes continually flicked to the space down the hall behind the Zetsus. After a long pause, he stepped back.
"Don't mention anything you think you saw," Black Zetsu added, and Naruto met his flat glare as Black and White Zetsu split apart. He seemed to consider a moment before looking away. "I don't plan to yet until I talk to her."
"Fine by me," White Zetsu shrugged. He and Black Zetsu watched as Naruto turned and walked back off, waiting until they knew he'd truly left before they leapt off in the direction Madara had gone.
Black Zetsu glared over at White Zetsu while they ran. "Keep an eye out for other intruders. We can't let anyone interrupt. You know our orders."
They caught sight of Madara, ascending more steps. Sakura's head rested along his shoulder, her words where are you taking me, anyway? carrying in an echo behind her.
"Awwh, how trusting and vulnerable she looks," White Zetsu commented, hands on his cheeks. Black Zetsu slid along a wall nearby, checking for any pursuing Anbu. "Be quiet," he growled back, glancing over at where the pair was just out of earshot. "If we interrupt, he'll kill us both."
White Zetsu sighed, following Black Zetsu's lead as the two of them kept watch for anyone else who might have the wherewithal to try and stop Madara's kidnapping in progress. They kept a safe distance as Madara kicked down a stone door; he stepped through into blinding sunlight, ignoring Sakura's repeated question as he took her out into the day along with him.
"Well… that was certainly more bold than last time," Sakura was saying as Madara set her down. Black and White Zetsu settled out of sight along the sides of the clifftop, listening to every word said while watching for any possible observers or interrupters. "You know, I still had more of my mission report to give. Also, I never knew that tunnel system existed. How did you know about it?"
Madara shot her a look, and she straightened before sighing with a little smile. "Right, you're a Founder."
She glanced around, her smile falling as she recognised that they stood before the Hokage cliff, all the stony faces just below looking out over the breadth of Konoha. The breeze drifted around them, aswirl with pollen; Madara caught a leaf, and he hummed before releasing it, glancing at her. "This, is where I named this village."
Sakura's eyes brightened. She kept a hand along his sleeve as she looked out with wide eyes over the entire expanse of Konoha. Everything looked so small from this high up, standing atop the cliff face that overlooked it all.
"And it is a better place to talk," Madara finished.
White and Black Zetsu exchanged looks, both imagining that anywhere dark and private would have been preferable, perhaps the old cave from decades of underground plotting. "Is the old man showing off?" White Zetsu whispered, causing Black Zetsu to scowl. "Who knows? It's fine. Shut up and pay attention."
Sakura had read the annoyance in Madara's tone. "What's wrong?" The hand she had unconsciously slid into her pack squeezed around something, and the Zetsus glanced over with suspicion.
"Did you know about this?"
Madara tossed her a scroll. Sakura unfolded it carefully, eyes widening upon the text. "No," she breathed, frowning at what she was reading. "I wasn't even told the terms, let alone that it was sent." She glanced up at Madara with a subtly devious look. "I'm surprised any mail was able to reach a homeless man like you."
She enjoyed Madara's rankling scowl in response while Black and White Zetsu clapped their hands over their mouths in the distance, muting their chortles.
She rolled the scroll back up, gripping it tightly. "No," Sakura reiterated, the humour falling away from her features, "I really didn't know they were going to try and blackmail you. Well, at least, not yet."
"I am surprised you were not involved." Madara folded his arms, eyes narrowing upon Sakura in a sweeping, scrutinising glance. "Especially considering your Senju blood, I expected your opinion to be valued much more highly within the hierarchy of this war." He didn't need to gesture to the mostly-Senju faces upon the craggy rocks behind Sakura, the visible testaments to Konoha's historical bias. "You seem very much like one, even bearing the seal that Hashirama's wife did."
"Senju blood?" Sakura bit her lip; she smiled to herself. "You're mistaken. I'm not related to Lady Mito nor Tsunade." A scowl passed over her features. "I'm just a humble civilian."
She looked away for a moment, her statement spoken bitterly. She missed the way Madara noted that before changing the subject, his voice even and slightly icy. "Have I not already been sparing the lives of your companions?"
Sakura's green eyes held the light of the afternoon sun. "You have."
"And killing exactly zero of your clones in recent memory; as you seem to enjoy trying to escape me more lately, instead." Madara's eyes glinted beneath the shadow of his wind-swept white mane; Sakura hummed. "Also true."
"In addition…" He stepped towards her. "You have already been making extensive efforts to heal my eye, negating the necessity of any of my own obligations to follow such blackmail." A smile ghosted Madara's pale features, dappled with sunlight.
Sakura glanced away with guilt as Madara's voice rumbled into a purr. "Do not think it escaped my notice that you have chosen to keep our little truce a secret."
Sakura swallowed as he stood over her; her gaze drew slowly back to his face, wandering along his elegant features to pause upon his searching stare. "It seems," he continued, "that there is a growing divide between your actions, and what your beloved superiors know of your actions."
"I tell them what they need to know," Sakura replied quietly. She offered the scroll back to Madara; he took it in one hand, his other opening. As the spark appeared and she recognised what he was about to do, she slid her hand over his palm quickly. "Wait."
Sakura dug around in her pack, pulling out the remaining folder. She slid it into his hand where her fingers had briefly lingered instead, her resolved but nervous expression pale and brittle.
"You trusted me," she said quietly. She released the scroll and folder into Madara's hands, withdrawing. "Now… I'm trusting you."
Madara glanced through the folder, his pupils dilating as he read its contents. A subtle movement in the trees went unnoticed by Sakura as she watched him read.
Madara returned his attention to her with narrowed eyes. After a pause, he held her unwavering gaze as both the scroll and the folder of files set ablaze within his hand. Incinerated quickly, the ashes of the lost documents flew away with the wind, their silvery traces escaping to the skies.
White Zetsu appeared back at Black Zetsu's side. With wide, flat eyes he leaned in, his voice hushed and conspiratorial. "I got a good glimpse, don't you worry."
"What was it?" Black Zetsu growled back, the both of them continuing to watch the pair down below where they stood together upon the windy clifftop. He shot an irritated glance in the direction of a distant detachment of Anbu, watching out of the corner of his eye to make sure they didn't draw anywhere near this little clifftop rendezvous. Damn it, why couldn't Madara have dragged her down to the safe stony hell of his old cave if he wanted privacy? Even if the girl would probably hate the dank, stuffy old underground complex, it would be much easier to guard than an open-faced ledge.
"Extensive reports of his medical data," White Zetsu was saying. "Suggestions to improve the glass-explosion kunai. Stuff like that." He leaned his head on his hand, his unnaturally wide mouth stretching into a grin. "I think she just joined our side. I can't believe she chose against giving that kind of data to her Hokage."
"I doubt that." Black Zetsu's fingers dug into the wood of the branch the two of them perched on. What was the irritating little kunoichi scheming with that kind of move?
Sakura was smiling wryly, glancing away from Madara. "Consider that my thank you for sparing them all, before."
Madara brushed his ashen hands along the side of his robe. The Zetsus leaned in from their safe distance to hear him better. "You are dancing upon an imbalanced edge. If you do not stop…"
Sakura shut her eyes as fingers traced the shape of her jaw, his thumb sweeping across her fine cheekbone, pausing beside her mouth. "...you will fall."
They stood in silence for a long moment. The wind curled around them in a leaf-littered breeze; the sun set them in a burning glow as neither moved, unwilling to break the peaceable pause suspended between them both.
Sakura lifted her hand, mirroring Madara's touch and drawing her hand along his cheek in return. As his mismatched eyes connected with hers, her thumb traced along his cheekbone, lingering, affectionate.
A responding flicker behind Madara's stare, and Sakura startled slightly as gloved fingers slid over her own. He did not pull her touch away from his face, allowing her to stay instead, and she held his intense gaze, neither one of them wavering nor looking away.
Black Zetsu leaned in with a low growl, his tone both concerned and disapproving. "This isn't good. He's spending too much time in the light."
"Hmm?" White Zetsu was looking on with clasped hands and girlish delight. He squinted at where Madara stood with Sakura, frowning. "But I don't know what you mean. He's as pale as ever."
Black Zetsu's eyes narrowed. He could see the warmth in Madara's expression from here. "I don't mean the sun," he replied, glaring at Sakura and her sunny smile as she wove her fingers between Madara's gloved ones.
"Oh," White Zetsu hummed. "Have we ever seen him this happy?" He paused. "...Have we ever seen him happy at all?"
"Madara's happiness doesn't matter," Black Zetsu shot back.
"...reminds me," Sakura was saying, her hands breaking loose to draw over to Madara's left shoulder. He blinked down at her as she pushed at his robe, her sharp eyes catching on his pale skin. "I need to check on how your shoulder is doing. How has it been feeling?"
He chuckled, catching her hand and shaking his head; his gaze upon her was dangerous. "You would disrobe me in public, now?"
Sakura huffed. "Call it revenge. You've done that to me before. Twice, if you count that time in the random little residence as well as the swamp. I just want to check your shoulder, though. And, well…" Her eyes strayed, that telltale red creeping up her neck and spreading to her cheeks. "To be honest with you, I think I might struggle to remain strictly professional, otherwise."
"That is fine." Madara smirked. "You were hardly 'strictly professional' the last time."
Sakura's laugh lifted through the trees where the two Zetsus looked on in watchful silence. She shoved lightly at Madara, her hands catching in the monochromatic folds of his robes. "You're right as usual. I can't really examine you out here. I'm amazed we haven't been accosted already." Her green eyes glinted in the sun. "What other places do only the Founders know?"
Black and White Zetsus sprang out of the way as Madara walked Sakura into the dappled shadows of a willow tree. Her back scraped the trunk as he leaned over her with one arm above her head. "There is a wealth of places I will show you once the war is over."
Sakura gestured out at Konoha's widespread sprawl beyond the clifftop, a shadow crossing her expression. "I bet you don't know Konoha as well now, ever since it had to be totally rebuilt."
Madara eyed her. "This is true," he agreed. "What… you intend to give me a tour?"
Sakura stood a little taller, almost prim in the side glance she aimed at Madara while pointing out several different specks in the village sprawl beyond the clifftop. He leaned in over her shoulder as he followed where she pointed, sliding amused glances along her slightly flushed and animated face while she spoke. "The tea shop, which you know now. It's the best. And there's this amazing little ramen stand that Naruto got me hooked on over there; and a sake bar there I tried out and liked. There's even an art gallery that just opened on the main road. Do you like art? And! Look over there! There's this amazing walking path where these beautiful trees bloom in the spring…"
Sakura leaned into Madara conspiratorially, shivering with silent pleasure when his fingers snaked around the curve of her hip. She let her cheek brush his as they looked out over Konoha, her hovering finger pointing out a library in the distance. "Or we could go check out every work by Tobirama, and have us a bonfire somewhere secluded in the forest."
Madara's deep chuckle made Sakura shoot him a lighthearted scowl. "What?"
"I enjoy you."
Sakura's blush deepened. Madara eyed her with a half-grin.
Drawing in closer, his voice dipped into a mocking tone, full of playful maliciousness. "Now… be honest with us both, Sakura. I'll no longer tolerate your cowardly preference of leaving it unnamed, no matter your fear of defining things." His mismatched eyes flashed cruelly. "Are you asking me on a date?"
Sakura paused, Madara's words rippling in the tense air between them.
Both Zetsus leaned in with interest. The mean glint in Madara's gaze was plain for anyone to see. He was testing her, most likely; perhaps he just liked riling her up — but how thick was her skin this time? Silently, they exchanged a bet: Black Zetsu was certain she'd rage and run in a tantrum of returned offense, and White Zetsu was confident that Sakura would be able to keep up with Madara this time.
Something subtle had changed in Sakura's demeanour. After a moment, she hummed, a serious glitter in her stare. "It's possible." She folded her arms with a huff, her tone steady and confident even under the heavy weight of Madara's intense attention. "But it depends. Do you plan to behave? I'd love to show you all of those places and more, assuming you don't drag me into an alley first."
Madara's expression slackened briefly before he looked utterly pleased, his winning smile a dangerous one. His jagged shadow projected over Sakura as he leaned over her, blocking out the sun from her face. "Oh? 'First'? Is that an expectation, then?"
Flicking sweat from her brow in the cool shade of his shadow, Sakura bit into her sly little smile. "Maybe. It's inevitable, isn't it?"
"Fine, then…" Madara leaned into her. "You show me where you might want to take me and I—" his voice dropped into a velvety, sinful register, "I will show you where I will be taking you." His narrowed eyes swept over Sakura slowly, the sheer heat of his gaze seeming to set her afire as all of her visible skin flushed red.
Making a short, breathless laugh, Sakura waved a hand in front of her face as if she stood in an ember-flecked heat wave. She caught Madara's hand, his pupils dilating as she drew his palm up over her curves to rest over her heart. Even from the distance they perched at, the Zetsus could sense Sakura's rapid, thrumming heartbeat that she invited Madara to touch.
"Feel what you do to me," Sakura gave a quavering sigh. "You're going to give me a heart attack."
The two of them turned in graceful tandem, stepping deeper into the copse of trees. The clifftop was out of sight, the shade covering them in spotted shadows, though they both burned as if they stood in high sunlight. His hand lingered over her heart; her eyes shone as she grinned back at him, their hair drifting in respective pink and white in the warm summer breeze.
"Then there is no further question," Madara's words ran smoothly in an inviting purr. "Shall we?" His unoccupied gloved hand rose between them, catching Sakura's hands and tugging her lightly towards the lively Konoha cityscape. The sun had just begun to dip in the sky; cicadas keened, their song rising with pollen-flecked humid air that swirled around them, scented with flower blooms and heat. She beamed up at him, flushed pink, her smile wide enough her teeth flashed white in the dappled sunlight.
Black Zetsu's grip had gotten so tight on the branch he stood on that the wood was beginning to crack. He could see it in Sakura's eyes — beyond whatever torrid emotions of hers that he had no interest in noting, he knew that she was realising that she had a kind of power over Madara now. She was beginning to understand that power and the weight that came with it, especially in the bond between them that was now weaving visibly rather than in subtle progressions. It was affirmed in the way they spoke; the way they moved with and against the other; the way they had their own magnetism, a gravity towards the other that ebbed and flowed with the words and actions they made. They did not need to voice that bond's existence for it to be as deepened as it was now.
Black Zetsu's flat yellow eyes narrowed slowly. Whatever Madara's goals were in this side-plan against Sakura of achieving a usable, manipulatable bond with her… he had finally succeeded. She looked at him with nothing short of sheer warmth in sickening, deep affection; and if that wasn't enough, she'd healed him. She'd reported in Madara's favour, against her own side's interests. She had signified that further with him in the twinned burning of the blackmail and the medical data, some of its ash still caught in the fluttering of their clothes.
What was troubling was that it wasn't one-sided. Black Zetsu had been irate to see that Madara had been giving her small concessions, in turn. He could have had a damaging ambush against the Hokage earlier; he could have perhaps maimed or even killed the Hokage or Naruto, both irritatingly strong enemies, rather than simply snatching Sakura away. He'd held back against her comrades multiple times before out of unreasonable consideration for her, and he'd allowed himself to become much too distracted from his plan.
Black Zetsu's only comfort was knowing the number of Madara's clones that continued to hunt for Sakura's original with every intention of getting that eye back. He additionally hoped that Madara would soon use his easy sway over her to extract much more valuable information about her locations and plans.
Sakura might understand she had some small measure of influence upon Madara now, but she had unknowingly slid herself under his thumb, or rather, had wound herself around it.
But Black Zetsu could not allow this to continue. Not this particular moment, in the least. That light within Madara's eyes — the sense of that light in his presence was much too genuine. If Black Zetsu was to let him stand within the illumination that Sakura had become for too long, he might yet be rinsed of his passion for the Tsukuyomi plan.
It would only be downhill from here should Madara be able to see that peace beyond the plan was possible again. Such a revelation would negate decades upon decades of Black Zetsu's careful planning and patience.
No. Madara must stay corrupted. Blinded, by his past, by the hateful dark of this world.
Sakura opened her mouth to speak. There was a resolved look on her face, like her decision had long been made, though there was nervous excitement making her shake slightly where she stood. Her confidence alone already betrayed that she knew Madara had every intention of taking her up on wherever she might suggest the two of them go.
Black Zetsu slid into her field of vision, and he stared her down with all of the malice, hatred, and ill-intent within the core of his being. He would have this damned kunoichi know… that no matter her efforts, no matter her minimal sway upon his best Uchiha pawn for the Tsukuyomi plan, she would not stand in his way. She'd not be the downfall of yet another of his useful cogs in his machinations for Mother's sake… Obito and his enlightenments be damned.
In the end, he would have the last laugh, the infinite dreams cast and Mother returned, with Sakura a fellow corpse at Madara's side.
Her green eyes slid past Madara to where Black Zetsu stood, and his unnatural grin opened wide like he was threatening to swallow her whole. He would have her know, he would have her remember who she was. Madara could never be hers in the peaceful, awake world she undoubtedly envisioned. Black Zetsu would forever stand as her harsh reality check that she could not sway the future from what it was destined to be… enslaved; dreaming; dead.
Holding Black Zetsu's blazing stare, Sakura slowly paled, her eyes widening.
After a pause, a grim look took hold of her expression. With a gradual, deliberate shift like she regretted having to move, she stood back.
Sakura shied away from Madara's closeness, and her voice was soft as her hands pressed over her chest, her person seeming to chill with the breeze that swept between them. "No. I'm sorry."
Madara was the one to pause now, taken aback by her abrupt change, and Sakura moved out of his reach, refusing to meet his eyes. "But I was glad to have talked with you, and maybe…" She shut her eyes tightly. "—I'm sorry. I have to go. I'll see you," and she was gone in a flash of steam.
Madara swerved, mismatched eyes full of murder, but both Zetsus had already gone, leaving him alone on the carved clifftop.