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I'm not dead. I've been updating Eden over here. Let me know if you want me to cross-post on here.

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Eden: TWIST [3]

ZERO / BLEACH / TWIST (here) / REVERSE / DYE / RED

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. -Edgar Allan Poe

++++

She didn’t know how she had expected Madara to react. For some reason, she had expected a little more… fang?

Instead, Madara pulled his glasses off. They fell against his chest, dangling from the chain he wore around his neck. He reached out with both hands. Sakura stepped closer, turning and pulling her hair off her neck so that he could see for himself.

“The fuck is this shit,” Madara muttered. He fumbled to pull his glasses back on.

“It looks like a demon contract, Uncle,” Itachi spoke up. Of course, he would know it when he saw one. Itachi’s work with the Demonology Division had probably put him in close contact with dozens of these.

Contracts manifested in different ways depending on the demon and the nature of the deal that was struck. A deal to kill someone would look different from a deal for musical talent. And contrary to popular belief, deals weren’t only struck for souls. People could offer a few years of their lifespan, money, even a favor to be cashed in later. The only absolute was that when it was time to pay up, the contract would appear somewhere on the body.

“What’s it look like?” Sakura asked.

Sasuke whipped his phone out to snap a picture. He showed it to her.

“…a butterfly?”

It was bright red with black markings running along the edges. But at the bottom of either wing was a large splotch of blue that looked disturbingly like a pair of eyes. The colors were so vivid and the shadows so real that it looked as if the wings were about to flap as the creature took flight. She reached back to run her fingers along it again. There was the gentle tingle of some sort of enchantment. Otherwise it was just skin.

Madara pulled his glasses off again.

“Have you ever seen a butterfly before?” he asked Itachi. Itachi shook his head.

“I can go reference the records at the precinct to see if someone else has. I’ll go do that now before they close,” Itachi muttered, already grabbing his jacket and pulling his arms through the sleeves. Shisui twisted his head to follow his cousin. He looked to Sakura. Then to Itachi again. Sakura offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile as she nodded towards Itachi.

“I’ll go with you,” Shisui announced. He squeezed Sakura’s shoulder once before he hurried after Itachi.

Sasuke’s mouth pulled into a line. He looked like he would also like to go with Itachi. When Sakura nudged his arm, however, he shook his head.

“You shouldn’t be alone. I’ll stick with you until we figure out what the hell is going on,” Sasuke said instead. And even though Sasuke was not an affectionate person, he reached over and took her hand. He even gave it a light squeeze.

Madara let out a long breath. He sounded as exhausted as he looked.

“Alright. Stay put for the day. I’ll put together some protection enchantments for the both of you,” he decided. And then his hand landed on top of Sakura’s head. He gave her hair an affectionate little ruffle.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you,” Madara then promised.

Guilt flooded Sakura. That she still doubted him. That she was keeping secrets from him. Any idiot could see how much he cared.

This was the man who had stayed up to help her make dioramas out of shoeboxes. He had given her ‘the talk’ and taught her how to drive. If there was anyone in this world she could trust, it should have been him.

But she didn’t.

Because of a few crazy visions that had left her with a bitter taste in her mouth.

Sasuke went to make a few phone calls, leaving Sakura by herself in the kitchen. She made sure no one was around before she climbed the stairs two at a time. She shut the door to her bedroom behind her. Warded it just in case. She could always pretend she was changing if someone knocked.

The rib was still sitting in her drawer when she fished around for it. It felt almost like plastic as she weighed it in her palm.

Sakura had stolen plenty of things from Madara before. Half of the shirts in her closet had once belonged to him. Maybe it felt different because this was something he treasured. Even though he always let her borrow them, there was something in his gaze whenever he pulled the bag out of the drawer. The way he pretended he wasn’t looking, but he still was. Maybe they were just really expensive.

As her fingers closed around the rib bone, she felt the anxiety swirling in her stomach calm a little.

“Everything’s going to be alright,” she tried to assure herself.

Her fingers tingled. When she looked down, she saw that the scrying bone was glowing just a little in her grasp.

She channeled into it.

When she normally cast a set of scrying bones, answers came to her in a chorus of whispers. It was like opening a door into a room where everyone was eager to share the same secrets with her.

When she cast the single scrying bone, it sounded more like a friend whispering a comment to her in the movie theater.

Are you wary of the dreams that linger?

It almost sounded like the voice was chastising her.

“I am being careful,” Sakura protested.

But you’ve given your heart away.

“I haven’t.” Her voice was more firm. She was certain of this one.

The voice from the scrying bone giggled before she said one last thing: Keyless lock.

“Hey. You already said all this stuff. Give me something else,” Sakura demanded.

The rib was silent. But it did hum with energy against her skin. Sakura opened her fingers to stare at the bone. There was a long crack running down it. When she channeled energy to it again, the crack glowed gold.

And to her surprise, she felt the bone cast back at her. A simple, basic spell that even a child could muster. Just the lightest brush of magic against her skin.

But it wasn’t the type of spell it was that amazed her. It was the form of it.

She remembered when she first met Madara. When he had showed her how to channel the energy through her solar plexus, push it up through her fingers until it sparked to life in her hands. Sparks the color of melted butter flowing from her fingers in a gorgeous river. The first barrier he taught her to cast was smooth and seamless. Like a bubble formed from an impossible bolt of satin.

The teachers at the Senju Academy had taught her that magic was free. To let instinct guide her, even as she struggled to summon a simple flame.

Madara had taught her that magic was the flow of energy. With the right breathing techniques and the proper stance, she could push that energy to push and pull. To pour out of or to take from.

The scrying bone, silent as it was, was telling her that magic was neither of those things.

Magic was a web. Interconnected. Tying to itself to strengthen the bonds.

Sakura tried to recreate the feel of the subtle spell that had touched her. It had settled over her like a very thin cloth.

Her temples began to ache as she narrowed her concentration over a single point on her hand. She watched as the magic gathered in a wave. Then it split into threads that wove together in a single sheet. Before she could manipulate it into any shape, it dissolved.

But she had managed it. Even for an instant.

She tilted her head as she considered the implications.

Would this style of casting prove more malleable? Would the effects of such enchantments last longer due to the bonds, or would they decay more quickly? What kinds of spells could this be applied to?

Her mind automatically drifted to Madara. He was the arcanist. Enchantment and magic research was what he lived for. In all the time she had known him, he had never grown upset at her for trying to learn. She could explain that she had borrowed a scrying bone to test a hypothesis. And then they could pore over references in the library to try to find answers to all her questions.

As she rose to her feet to go ask, the rib suddenly flashed hot in her palm. She yelped, nearly dropping it. When she glance down, she saw that the bone had burned her.

Wary. Protect your heart. Pity the child.

The different divined messages jumbled together to form a slightly different message.

“Who is the child?” Sakura asked.

The bone was quiet.

“Is it me?”

Silence answered, so she ventured another guess.

“…Is it… Madara?”

So much pain. Pitiful child, the voice sighed.

Sakura slept that night with the rib tucked back in her drawer. Sasuke slept in one of the guest rooms.

As soon as her eyes closed, she found herself at the entrance to the dream world. The old wooden door loomed huge and purple over her. It seemed taller than usual. The vines and leaves that framed the door stretched and twisted under her gaze. Her hand froze mid-reach. She stared at the keyhole that she had never needed to use.

Pity the child who trusts the keyless lock.

Sakura nudged the door, as she always had. It swung open under her light touch.

The hallway illuminated in soft, purplish light. Inviting. Safe as always.

She closed the door.

Stared at the keyhole that was a little obscured by the vines. When she brushed her fingers across them, the vines receded.

She imagined a key appearing. Dreams were strange that way. Sometimes she could just imagine what she needed and they would materialize. A watering can for wilting flowers. A hat when the sun shined too bright.

A key did not appear.

She tried other solutions.

A lockpick. A bobby pin. None of them appeared in her hand.

When she started to grow frustrated, the door swung open again. As if inviting her to just relax. This was a dream after all. She would have many more chances like this- night after night.

Sakura decided to grill the scrying bones about this another time. Maybe there was some kind of hint they were withholding.

The corridor seemed to expand and lighten once she set foot inside. The rooms of people who had already passed on remained dark. But as she passed Sasuke’s dream, it flared with colors. She continued down the familiar path. Shisui’s and Itachi’s doors pulsed too with soft light. They were a little too far for her to access, but she could feel their minds stirring. It was reassuring to know that they were alright.

Madara’s door was dim when she passed. But the knob was still there- silvery and bright. She brushed her fingers over it as she walked past. He wasn’t sleeping yet. Probably immersed in his research. It was possible that he wouldn’t dream at all that night.

When she slipped into her room, the door swung shut behind her.

It startled her when she immediately plummeted into a nightmare.

Gnashing teeth and wild, red eyes. Clawed fingers raked across her shield in desperation to slash her open.

He was crunchy, but tasty. You look tasty too.

How could she have forgotten?

Or maybe she had just pretended to forget.

The sight of Naruto covered in blood. Mouth leering too wide. Like if he smiled harder, his skull would split right open.

The side of the dream shattered like glass. The visions tumbled together in random shards as Sasuke’s hand punched through. He climbed into her nightmare, his hands filled with fire.

“Why didn’t you call me?” he asked. Yelled at her, actually. That didn’t bother her. She knew he was more concerned than angry.

He fell silent as he scrutinized the crumbling remnants of her nightmare before they swept away in a gust of wind. Sasuke glared at the void around them. And then he pulled the fabric of the darkness apart like curtains to reveal her room in the dream world. The crystals hummed on the shelves as they entered, as if greeting them. On another set of shelves sat all the different fragments of dreams she had collected in her walking. A cork wiggled out of a bottle with a pop. An airy but smug voice slipped out.

I told you to be wary.

Sakura flapped her hand back and forth, dissolving the essence with an irritable, “Yeah, yeah.” She slid to the floor, rubbing her forehead as she tried to gather her thoughts. She felt Sasuke sit down beside her.

“Sasuke.”

“Yeah?”

“What if… what if I told you something completely crazy?”

Sasuke snorted. “More crazy than if you told me you woke up one day with a demon contract growing out of your neck?” he retorted.

She tried to fake a smile. Failed.

“Yeah… something like that.”

Sasuke studied her expression. And then he shrugged. “I’ve heard crazier shit before. What is it?”

Before Sakura had a chance to speak, the room dissolved around them. She blinked up at the ceiling. It took her a second to realize that she could hear the faint sounds of someone’s phone ringing downstairs. Sasuke’s alarm had woken him.

Sakura curled up on her side, clenching and unclenching her hand. The burn mark the rib had left still stung.

Her bedroom door creaked open. Sasuke stood there, his hair sticking up every which way. His eyes barely squinting at her in the morning light.

“What crazy thing?” he questioned.

Sakura sat up. She glanced around. She could feel Madara’s presence in his room across the hall. He was probably still sleeping. Maybe it was the nightmare that was making her feel so paranoid.

“Let’s fine Ino. I want to tell her too,” she said.

Sasuke yawned. “Ok. Might as well find Naruto, too, then.”

“Just Ino,” Sakura insisted.

Ino complained about being woken this early. But she was the first one to arrive at the diner. She waved at them from a table by the window. She was still in her pajamas with a jacket thrown on top. Bits of her golden hair stuck out from under her knit cap as she watched them settle down across from her.

“You both look terrible,” she observed.

“Thanks,” Sasuke retorted.

Ino wrinkled her nose at him.

Sakura waited to let everyone order their food before she finally launched into her explanation.

She started from the very beginning. With the puzzling loop of dreams that seemed to bleed into reality, only to become a dream again. She recounted being able to anticipate what people would say and do, as if she had experience all of this before. She even told them about how she’d seen Gaara’s bloodied corpse on the floor of the library.

Ino paled. She had never been good with blood.

“So, you’re saying the monster… beast… whatever- that attacked you was Naruto?” she inquired.

Sakura shrugged as she pushed a bit of pancake around her plate. It had sopped up all of the syrup, leaving it a sticky, dense mess.

Sasuke hadn’t touched a bite of his food since it arrived. He folded his arms on top of the table.

“Did you tell Ino?”

“Tell me what?”

“That she has a demon contract branded into her body.”

Ino sucked in a sharp breath. “Sakura, when did you-”

Sakura shook her head. “I don’t know. I think I would remember if I did something like that.”

Sasuke tapped his finger against his arm. Like he was deliberating how to word something. He glanced up to meet Sakura’s eyes. And then he seemed to make a decision.

“That description of Naruto… sounds… pretty demonic to me,” he slowly pointed out.

They had all taken a basic demonology and summoning class during their freshman year of university. It was one of the required courses. Summoning spirits and making contracts was a simple and usually safe way to gain a boost in power. As long as the caster followed protocols and made the terms of the contract very clear, even a mischievous spirit couldn’t do much damage.

“But… Naruto’s… isn’t he just a guy?” Ino asked the question they’d all been thinking.

All four of them had met during their freshman year. Naruto sat beside Ino during one of their lectures and asked to borrow a pen every day until she had threatened to stab him with one. Once Ino and Sakura had become friends, it had become natural for the four of them to hang out together. Like Sasuke, Naruto’s strength lay in offensive magic. The two of them had developed somewhat of a friendly rivalry as they dueled together.

The more Sakura considered the idea, the more ridiculous it seemed. Naruto was so kind. He delivered pizza at night and always hooked them up with free slices when they visited him at work. She remembered him comforting her when Itachi and Shisui had gone missing. Those didn’t seem like the actions of a malicious spirit coming to collect on a contract.

But he had also eaten Sasuke’s heart straight out of his chest.

“Okay. Okay. Shit. Okay…” Ino muttered to herself. She folded her hands together under her nose. Her eyes darted back and forth.

“First thing’s first, we should go visit him,” Ino then declared.

“Are you crazy?” Sasuke spat.

“Look. Sakura said all this shit happened on New Year’s Eve. It’s not even December yet. There’s still time,” explained Ino.

“Yeah. Time for him to rip her heart out or whatever.”

“It could have just been a vision from divination gone wrong. It might not be actual foresight,” Ino insisted.

Sakura shuddered as she remembered those long teeth. The joy and cruelty in his cackle as he confessed to killing the people she loved. But also the pang of concern as she wondered what had driven sweet Naruto to do such an awful thing.

And then wondered something else.

“Why do you guys believe me?”

Ino and Sasuke stopped their bickering. They turned to her.

“Why do you believe me? I sound like a crazy person. I feel like a crazy person,” she whispered. Hands clenching in her lap. Sasuke’s face crumpled as tears began to drip from her eyes. Ino’s chair scraped across the floor as she rounded the table. She pulled Sakura into her arms, warm and smelling like perfume.

“Because we love you. And because you’re this upset. Of course we believe you,” Ino murmured.

The waitress awkwardly hovered to the side as she held the check between her thumb and pointer finger. She lingered, eyes flickering around from place to place. In the end, she settled for placing it at the edge of the table before hurrying off to give them some privacy.

Once Sakura had dried her tears and they’d paid the bill, they made their way out of the diner. Ino kept her arm wound around Sakura’s, insisting that it was because she was cold.

After a little more fighting, all three of them agreed to visit Naruto’s studio apartment.

“If he tries to kill us or whatever, we’ll beat the shit out of him. There’s three of us and only one of him!” Ino cheerfully declared. Sasuke and Sakura exchanged a far less enthusiastic look. But when Sakura nodded, Sasuke heaved a sigh and agreed to Ino’s plan.

Naruto had clearly been asleep after a late shift at the pizzeria. Or maybe at one of his other part-time jobs. He was barely awake when he opened the door to his place and stumbled off. He scratched his stomach as he gave them a questioning look.

“How are you feeling?” Sasuke abruptly asked.

“Uh… confused?” Naruto answered.

“No, like, physically. Have you had any weird symptoms or feelings lately?” Ino tried to clarify.

Naruto rubbed a knuckle across his eyes. “Not really. Hey, have you been crying, Sakura?”

“I’m fine,” she sniffed, slapping a hasty smile on her face. Naruto gave her a look that said he didn’t believe her. But before he could ask something else, Ino grabbed his elbow and shook his arm.

“Focus! I’m being seriously. Are you sure you haven’t felt… off?”

Naruto stared at Ino now. And then something flashed across his face.

“Actually, my head’s kind of been hurting sometimes. And I’ve been falling asleep earlier than usual. Guess I’ve just been tired,” he confessed.

Ino and Sakura exchanged a look.

Ino dug the pockets of her jacket. And then her pajama pants. She looked around the place before she pointed to the pendant Naruto always wore. She grasped it, jerking Naruto forward a little.

“I’m gonna cast a tracking charm on this. Just to make sure you’re ok,” Ino explained.

Naruto didn’t protest, but he began to look worried now. He looked at Sakura again.

“Wait, what’s going on? Did something happen?” he wondered. Ino was busy casting her spell. She threw Sasuke a look that told him to say something.

“Sakura… divined… that something bad might happen to you. We just wanted to make sure you weren’t hurt or whatever…” Sasuke let his lie trail off. It wasn’t completely false. It also wasn’t really the truth.

“Oh… well. Shit. Thanks, I guess. And you guys are good?” Naruto mumbled, blinking a little. He looked more awake now.

“Yeah. We’re fine,” Sasuke said just a little too quickly.

They stayed for a little while longer, chatting with Naruto and catching up. With each passing second, Sakura felt more and more like she was trying to digest rocks. When she squeezed Sasuke’s elbow, he nodded.

“Well, we’ve got to head to the shop. I’ve got an appointment coming up soon,” Sasuke announced. They hugged. Naruto squeezed her close and whispered that he was there for her if she ever wanted to talk. It was all she could do not to vomit on his shoulder.

Leaving Naruto to catch up on his sleep, the three of them walked to the subway station. Ino promised to keep in touch and to do some research on her part. Her job at city hall gave her access to at least some of the archives there. She hugged Sakura one more time before she headed through the turnstiles towards to the right line.

Sasuke and Sakura waited until she had rounded the corner before they spoke.

“So, not going to the shop?” Sasuke guessed.

“I… I need to get some answers today,” she said.

“Can I come with you?”

She shook her head.

Sasuke let out a soft snort. “Figures.”

His palm glowed with spectral heat as he offered it to her. She grasped it. The heat flowed into her, traveling up her arm. Warming but not hot. It was a simple linking spell. One that would wear off in a few hours.

“I’ll come to the shop later,” she promised. Sasuke nodded before he headed down the steps with his hands in his pockets.

Gaara picked up the phone after three rings.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No. I was just on my way back from the store.”

“Good. Um… can I come visit? I could use some company.”

There was a pause. And then a startled laugh. Bright and breathy. Like he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.

“Of course. Walk slowly. I need to clean up a little.”

As she hung up, Sakura tried to stop her other hand from shaking.

She needed to get the truth from him today. A horrible screech filled her ears as a train barreled into the station. She watched as people swarmed forward, waiting for the doors to slide open.

She stared. Decided to wait for the next train. There was no need to rush. As she brushed her hair away from her face, she felt the back of her neck tingle. When she pressed her palm to the mark, she could feel it radiating warmth. She didn’t touch it again. Praying that ignoring it would somehow make it go away.

#eden #fanfiction #haruno sakura #Modern Magic!AU #uchiha madara #uchiha itachi #uchiha shisui #uchiha sasuke #drawing closer to the lies that are kinder than the truth

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Eden: TWIST [2]

ZERO / BLEACH / TWIST (here) / REVERSE / DYE / RED

Yes: I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world. — Oscar Wilde

++++

The bells were ringing. Ringing. Clanging so noisily in the tower.

She dreaded hearing those bells because it meant the beginning of another long day.

But as Sakura blinked awake, she realized what an odd thought that was.

The only clocktower in the city was an ancient thing with huge neon green hands that could be seen from almost any window. If you waved your hand in front of your face, the numbers on the clock blurred to reveal the weather and the times for the sunrise and sunset. Wave again to see the times for moonrise and moonset. It was a clever little spell that activated for each person the moment they set foot within city limits.

There were no bells.

So just what had she imagined hearing?

As she lay there, a memory came to her.

“It’s illusion magic,” Sakura had guessed one night as she sat at the kitchen table. This was years ago. She knew from the way Sasuke’s hair had gotten too long. The one time he was convinced that super long hair looked good on him. (He was definitely copying Itachi, but no one dared to point that out to him.)

“It’s conjuration. It’s making something appear,” Sasuke countered, swirling his spoon around in the remnants of his cereal milk. A few soggy bits of wheat drifted around with the motion.

They both looked to Madara, who just smiled. He gestured to Itachi sitting across from him. Shisui was away on one of his trips at the time.

“What’s the answer, Itachi?” Madara asked.

When both Sasuke and Sakura looked to him, Itachi chuckled.

“Transmutation,” he replied.

“What?”

“How?”

“The clock tower runs on electricity. The spell converts the energy from the electricity into light and heat.”

Sasuke wrinkled his nose. “How is that any different from regular electricity?”

Itachi raised his eyebrows. “Good question. No cogs. Just a few wires and some spells. The tower’s mostly hollow.”

It was Sakura’s turn to wrinkle her nose. “That’s…. Complicated for no reason,” she mused. And as her eyes fell on someone who loved to enchant things in complicated ways for no reason, her face lit up.

“Did you come up with that?” asked Sakura.

The corner of Madara’s mouth curled up in a feline smirk.

“Took Shisui ages to figure that out. Smart,” he replied before he took a sip from his mug.

There were lots of strange things about the city that traced their roots back to Madara. The streetlights powered by fire magic. The expansion charm on city buses that allowed more people to fit on each vehicle than seemed possible.

And in the present, she realized.

“There used to be a bell. Not anymore,” she said out loud.

She didn’t know why that mattered. But it felt important to say in the moment.

By the time she rolled out of bed, Madara was already shuffling around downstairs. She could hear the sink running. The refrigerator door opening and closing.

Gaara had texted her good morning.

He had been this attentive in her dreams too.

She texted him back. And then she tossed her phone aside to stretch her arms over her head.

“I’m borrowing your scrying bones!” she yelled as she crossed the hall. Madara grunted something that sounded affirmative.

The bones felt cool to the touch as she scooped them out of the pouch. She scattered them across the rug in her room. When she channeled magic into them, she could feel the bones begin to hum. The cracks began to light up gold, the whispers beginning to creep into her ears.

Beware of the dreams that linger.

Do not give your heart away.

It wasn’t unusual for scrying bones to give multiple pieces of information. It was unusual for those pieces to be so cryptic, however.

She ran her hand over the bones one more time. Her fingertips tingled.

Pity the child who trusts the keyless lock.

When she frowned, the scrying bones repeated the warning.

Pity the child who trusts the keyless lock.

Extremely cryptic. Bordering on unhelpful.

She sat on the rug, staring at the bones for a while.

But then another text arrived from Gaara, distracting her. She swept the bones back into the soft pouch. They almost seemed to cling to her- like they were reluctant to part from her. She peered down at the bones. And then she reached inside to pluck one of the bones from the pile. A rib. Less noticeable if it was missing since there were 23 others rattling around inside. She slipped it into the drop drawer of her dresser before she returned the pouch to Madara’s nightstand.

Madara yelled from downstairs asking if they were out of marmalade.

A laugh bubbled up her throat as she almost yelled back that he didn’t even like marmalade.

She stopped herself.

No, Madara loved marmalade. He ate it with all of his toast when possible. Where had that bizarre and obviously wrong thought come from then? Sakura blinked, shaking her head as she made her way downstairs to help him dig through the pantry.

++++

She didn’t see much of Madara in the next few weeks. She wasn’t avoiding him on purpose. But some small part of her was relieved for an excuse not to have to see him so often. She kept imagining his blood spilling over her, too warm, whenever he squeezed her in a hug or patted her on the back. It made it hard for her to meet his eyes for too long. And if at all possible, she wanted to avoid him catching on that something was up.

She regretted telling him everything. The magic circle still buzzing purple. A body sprawled across the runes. And Madara looking too calm, as if the blood wasn’t spreading until it wet the bottoms of his shoes.

She was glad she decided to keep quiet this time. Shisui wouldn’t disappear into thin air. Itachi and Sasuke were still alive.

And Gaara was easy to talk to. That was why she had liked him in the first place.

He liked calling more than texting. He tended to stay up late like her. They went to see a movie. Another time, they walked in the park.

November turned to December. Snow began to flutter down onto the city. As the white flakes dotted the asphalt, Sakura leaned against the counter in Gaara’s tiny studio apartment. One of the tiles on the floor was cracked, like someone had dropped something from the counter. She ran her heel over the circular indent in the ceramic.

“It’s hot,” Gaara warned.

Sakura turned her gaze back to him. He poured from the electric kettle. There were two mismatched mugs filled with instant coffee. Steam curled into the air as he filled both the cups.

“Sorry. I haven’t had a chance to get groceries in a while,” Gaara said, pushing one of the cups towards her. Sakura summoned a spoon from thin air and used it to mix her drink first, then his. She dropped the spoon into the sink, but it never clattered. Just dissolved into smoke. She smiled at him as she lifted the mug with both hands.

“That’s alright. I’m not picky about my caffeine,” she assured him. She took a careful sip of the coffee before she glanced around.

Gaara’s apartment looked… bare, somehow. There were shoes and clothes. A few decorations were scattered around. There was even a poster up on the wall of some vintage movie. But despite those little things, it felt a little cold.

“It’s really coming down now,” Gaara observed.

Sakura followed his line of sight to the window over the sink. The streetlights were beginning to blink on. There were still people running around outside as the storm began to pick up.

“I’ll call you a cab?” Gaara offered. He patted his pants until he found his phone in his back pocket.

“Can I sleep on the couch?”

Gaara’s hands slipped. He dropped his phone. It fell face-down on the tile.

Sakura laughed a little. “Sorry. I made you uncomfortable. I’ll go before it gets bad.” She pushed her mug away. It was still steaming as she grabbed her phone and keys off the counter.

In a way, she was glad. In her visions, she had never crossed that line with him either. She had been so consumed with her research. And his awkward little blushes and stutters had made her think that it would be better to take things slow. It had felt like they had all the time in the world.

As she reached for her coat where she had draped it over the back of the sofa, Sakura felt Gaara close his hand around her forearm.

“There’s no food in my fridge. We should order dinner before they stop delivering,” he said, quietly.

You’re garbage, Sakura thought to herself later. She lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Gaara slept on the sofa. His back was to her. There was a blanket draped over him, but he couldn’t have been too comfortable. But she knew why he endured it.

Knew it from the way his eyes lit up when she walked into a room. Or how he agreed too quickly to each of her comments.

It was cruel to exploit his little puppy love like this. She knew there were other ways to go about this. But what her recent experiences- visions- whatever- had taught her was that honesty might not be the best option.

Sakura shifted a little. Gaara’s breathing was steady. She slipped out of bed, shivering when her feet touched the floor.

A quick spell summoned a dim light to her fingertips. She glanced around the apartment. There didn’t seem to be much to snoop through. There were some books and papers on his coffee table, though they had been pushed to the side to make room for their paper containers of noodles and steaming dumplings. Sakura plucked one of the papers out of the mess to squint at it. It looked like an invoice for some clothes he had ordered online. She set it back down where she had found it.

When Gaara woke in the morning, it was to Sakura shaking his shoulder. He squinted, twisting around to look at her.

“Hey. I need to get going. Just wanted to say thank you for letting me crash here,” she whispered. She spoke quickly, before he could fully wake up and get his bearings about him.

He grunted something. Cleared his throat. Tried to speak again. “Yeah. No problem. Uh. Do you want breakfast or something?” Gaara sat up, swaying a little. He rubbed the side of his neck, wincing at the stiffness he probably felt there.

Sakura pulled on her coat. She flipped her hair over the collar.

“I’m running a little late. Next time,” she replied.

He looked disappointed. She felt a twinge of regret again. So she leaned over and kissed him on the lips. She had only done so a handful of times. Mostly because it filled her with the same guilt that welled up now. He might have called her name as she headed out the door. She pretended not to hear him.

He had some kind of connection to Madara. There was no other reason for him to end up dead in her house. Twice.

The most obvious solution was to ask Madara outright. He never avoided her questions. But another part of her remembered Madara’s hand coated in blood. As if it had stabbed directly through someone. Even if all her other visions were true and that wasn’t, she didn’t exactly feel comfortable asking him just yet.

Instead, she pretended to be working on her thesis and headed to the Senju Institute.

She dropped by the Department of Abjuration to check her mailbox. Nothing too interesting. She chatted with the secretaries for a minute, laughing and smiling in all the right places before she headed to the library.

Sakura scoured the database. There were hundreds of papers written by Madara. And even more papers that referenced or credited him. Not a single one also included Gaara’s name somewhere in the study. That was frustrating. She managed to find a few books that caught her interest and brought them back to her small office in the Department of Abjuration.

She was unsurprised when there was a knock on the open door a few hours later. Sakura looked up from her book, slipping her thumb between the pages to mark her spot.

“Headmaster.”

“Dry as always. You sound more and more like him with every day.”

She set her magnifying glass aside with a scowl.

“See? He does that too,” Hashirama added with a chuckle. He lingered in the doorway, looking around her narrow office that she shared with another grad student. When his eyes fell on the newest books on her desk, his expression changed.

“Thinking about changing your thesis?”

Divination: An Exploration of Foresight

Through the Eyes of Fate

Advanced Divination and Enchantment of Visions

There were a few others, but the spines were obscured under other papers and scraps ripped from her notebook.

When it was clear that she wasn’t going to rise to his bait, Hashirama sighed. The headmaster was forever trying to rope her into a conversation. Madara assured her that it was fine to ignore him. So she often did.

“Fine. I wanted to let you know that those spell books you requested last month are finally here,” he informed her. And then he followed her pointing finger. On the opposite end of her desk from the divination books were the texts on dreams she had specially ordered from another university several cities away.

“Oh… you already got them?”

She had known exactly where those books would be waiting for her. On the silver cart in the library. Labelled with her name and her department.

“I saw them when I visited the library this morning. Seemed like a waste not to grab them too,” Sakura replied.

Hashirama nodded. Then his expression brightened as he clasped his hands together. “How goes the research?”

The last time he had asked, she had demonstrated. Just a little something to show off.

She was tired today. Sakura just shrugged. “Slowly. But it goes,” she said as vaguely as possible.

Hashirama just laughed, waving his hand. “Alright. I get the hint. I’ll get out of your hair,” he conceded.

“Thank you,” Sakura replied. She reopened her book, about to return to her reading. But she stopped herself.

“Headmaster,” she found herself calling out. The man braced his hands against the doorway, still smiling. He arched an eyebrow at her.

When she lifted her chin, Sakura looked him straight in the eye. Whatever expression she had on her face made Hashirama drop his smile altogether.

“What happened to the bell in the clocktower?”

His look of confusion seemed genuine enough.

“There’s never been any bell. The tower’s always been hollow,” he told her. And then he tilted his head a little. “Perhaps you’re remembering another city. Or… “ The smile returned to Hashirama’s face. “Dreams can get confusing. Sometimes I think I’ve already done my laundry and wake up to find that it was only a dream.” He laughed a little.

Sakura forced a smile onto her lips.

An unpleasant sensation prickled down her spine. Dread, she realized a heartbeat later.

Something was wrong.

Hashirama’s smile sharpened.

“You should be careful not to let your dreams linger when you’re awake, Sakura,” he then warned her.

Sakura kept the bizarre conversation to herself when she left the campus not too long after. Goosebumps had erupted up and down her arms when the headmaster had uttered that final statement. It wasn’t quite identical. But it was similar enough to the scrying bones’ message.

In the world of divination, there were very few rules. One of the most important was that coincidence was the excuse of a lazy diviner. Or an incompetent one. Hashirama considered her- his eyes unreadable.

Sakura mulled over the bizarre conversation as she walked into the dream shop just before noon.

Shisui scrutinized her from the counter. His eyes narrowed. He turned to say something to Itachi. She ignored the both of them as she tossed her coat aside and headed into the break room to pour a cup of coffee.

Her cousins blocked her when she tried to step out of the break room.

“I’ll pour hot coffee on you,” she warned them.

“You’d never waste coffee like that,” Shisui called her bluff immediately.

“Try me,” she growled, trying to move past them. Shisui folded his arms across his chest.

Itachi didn’t look nearly so stern. “You’ve been acting strange lately. We just wanted to make sure you’re alright,” he said. It was weird how his voice suddenly made the corners of her eyes sting.

Shisui’s face softened. “Yeah. Like, even if you can’t talk to Uncle, we’re here,” he chimed in. And then he offered an arm to her. Sakura used the hand that wasn’t holding the coffee to hug him. He squeezed her just the right amount. Hugs from Shisui were the best.

“Except money. I’m broke. Can’t let you borrow anything,” Shisui then amended, squeezing her a little closer. Sakura laughed, slapping at his back a few times. As she twisted in his arm to hit him again, she felt Itachi grab her shoulder. Hard.

“Ow!” Sakura complained.

At the same time, Shisui protested. “What the heck, man? You don’t even like hugging. Wait your turn.”

Itachi swept Sakura’s hair off the back of her neck. He stared. It was bizarre enough that Shisui released her to get a look at whatever it was too.

“Oh. When did you get a tattoo?” Shisui wondered.

“A what?” Sakura retorted. She squirmed when Itachi ran his thumb over the back of her neck. It felt… odd. Tingly, maybe?

“This… isn’t a tattoo,” mused Itachi. He was gentler this time as he put his hand on Sakura’s shoulder again. She turned to face him. She put her palm over the place he had just touched.

“It’s a contract,” he then clarified. His eyes searched hers as he asked: “Sakura, have you made a deal with someone or… something?”

Sakura shook her head.

Itachi hissed out a long sigh. He ran a hand through his hair. His gaze wandered around as he thought. Shisui, however, seemed to come to a decision much faster. He cupped a hand around his mouth.

“Sasuke!” he shouted.

There was a long pause. And then a door slammed somewhere upstairs. Footsteps clomped down until Sasuke’s face appeared at the top of the staircase. He was scowling.

“I’m finishing up with a client,” Sasuke hissed.

“Don’t care. Wrap it up. We’re closing for the day,” Shisui decided.

“To do what?” Sasuke demanded.

“To figure out why the fuck Sakura has a demon contract on the back of her neck. Now hurry up, smartass,” Shisui snapped in response.

Sasuke paled. His stare lingered on Sakura for another moment before he ran back upstairs.

#eden #fanfiction #haruno sakura #Modern Magic!AU #uchiha madara #uchiha itachi #uchiha shisui #uchiha sasuke #the deja vu that leads to ruin

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What Bloomed [3/3]

Part Three: Was Guilt

At another point in her life, Madara’s tears would have broken her heart. But now, all she did was stare. Maybe because he had trampled it to dust already. There wasn’t much left to feel anymore, she told herself.

“I told them not to touch you.”

“But it’s alright to kill everyone else?” Sakura challenged.

“You were supposed to be green.”

Her confusion overcame her anger. Just for a moment.

“When did I ever say that?”

She really thought back to their many conversations. Her being a dragon wasn’t something they really discussed too much after her initial confession. At the time, she had thought it was Madara trying not to pry. Only now did she realize it was because he hadn’t wanted to give his own secrets away. But never had she described her appearance to him.

“You said you grew up in forests. I assumed that with the natural camouflage you’d be green. Maybe brown,” Madara explained.

The pieces fell into place. She could guess what had happened.

“You told them not to touch a green dragon. And when there were reports of some other dragon attacking, you didn’t think it was me,” she spelled out, mostly for herself. Madara didn’t say anything. His shoulders hunched inward. She wondered if she was supposed to pity him. Was there something wrong with her for not feeling that way?

She knew why things had ended up like this.

She wanted to hate him for it. Hated herself instead when she couldn’t.

“You should have aimed your spear better,” was all she could think to say.

+++++

Dragons. Ancient dragons. The ones that had once ruled the skies only grew that way by eating. The more a mother ate, the larger her children would grow. And the largest ones were the ones who survived. So mothers razed the lands and devoured everything in their path. Because a sickly child was not one that would last in this harsh world.

The humans hated and feared the creatures that gobbled their flocks and ate their towns. As they learned to fight back against these monsters, dragons saw that their children would have to grow even larger to survive against these scale-less beings who wielded iron and fire to fight.

But the one weakness of dragons was that they hunted alone. And the one strength of humans was that they hunted as a group.

Humans took dragons as slaves and trophies. The remaining dragons out in the wild scattered. Starved and terrified. Those that grew too large, too ravenous, were quickly slaughtered. And as the centuries crawled by, soon people began to think of dragons as creatures of legends- never to return.

The truly ancient dragons slumbered beneath the earth. When they awoke to a land littered with the corpses of their kind, when they learned what had been done to their kin, it was the first time in history when dragons had gathered their strength to fight as one.

At the head of their assault was a one of the ancient dragons. One who had slumbered beneath the magma and dreamt of little whelps that he would teach to hunt. He woke to human empires built on the ruins of his kind instead. Where the leaders sat on thrones made from their skulls and laughed at their demise.

Madara woke in fury. He hated all these humans. But he wore the skin of one, shaped his beautiful body into something smaller to move unnoticed. He despised their ignorance. Their sense of entitlement. He couldn’t wait to watch them all burn.

His blood boiled as he journeyed from city to city. As he read their ancient texts that boasted of their atrocities against his kind. The lords had bought their titles with the suffering of dragons. Selling their young. Slaughtering them in publicized death matches for a little bit of entertainment.

But then he met a girl. Inquisitive. And sharp in all the best ways. She wove her words around him as if setting a trap for him. When she smiled, pain erupted in his chest. So he resigned himself to like fleetingly. After all, she would burn with the rest. And when, against his better judgment, he took her into his arms, she turned around to whisper the most beautiful secret he had ever heard.

I’m a dragon.

At first, he wondered if it was a clever joke. One of the ones with a complex punchline that caught him completely by surprise. She was good at those.

But with those big eyes, she confessed to a life on the run. Hunted. Terrified at every twist and turn.

He pushed down the feelings welling up inside as he held her face in his hands.

“Thank you for trusting me, my love. I’m honored.”

It was a second punch in the gut when she then asked a question.

“….I… I’ve thought about… can… would it be possible… if I wanted to start a family with you… could that even work?” she stumbled over the words. Probably not even noticing how they tore his world in two.

To imagine her, bathed in the moonlight. To curl up against their clutch, listening to their little heartbeats thrumming inside. His arms tightened around her. He hoped she wouldn’t notice that he was crying.

“Oh… Oh, my love,” he breathed. He wished he could stop trembling.

“With me?” He wondered if this was all a dream. “With me? Why? Why me?”

“You are a gift. I don’t deserve you,” Madara sighed.

A gift and a curse all in one. As beautiful and wretched as could be.

“Thank you.”

She trusted him even then. Falling asleep in his arms. Not even fearing what he would do when he knew about her identity now. Someone else would have turned her in. Let them skin her and gut her to fill their pockets with gold. The very thought made him sick. So he banished such ideas. And held her closer. Wishing that the night would stretch on long and endless so that he would have time to think about what he should do.

She loved him. And it was worse because he loved her in return.

She dreamt of a future together. Not even hesitating to plan her life with a man she presumed to be human. She wanted to travel, to wander the world to see every wonder she could. Her face glowed with excitement as she imagine that rosy future with him. And may the creator of this wretched world strike him down for the way he lied and promised what he knew he could not give.

The time was drawing near. The promised day that the other ancient dragons had chosen to cleanse the world in flame.

On the day that Madara gathered the courage to tell her the truth, Sakura asked him whether he wanted a boy or a girl first. He pulled her into his arms and cursed her loveliness.

He tried to leave behind everything that reminded him of her. Tried. Because otherwise he would have left himself there too. But he failed miserably. The cloak he fastened around his shoulders smelled of her. His journal was peppered with sketches of her profile as she slept. In the early hours of the dawn, he stood at her bedside and resisted the urge to tuck her into his arms and steal away with her.

Would she be angry? Would she push him away?

He couldn’t even muster the courage to press a final kiss to her pretty mouth before he ran away with his tail between his legs.

His heart stuttered in his throat when he learned that she had been in one of the first fortresses that had fallen. He twisted his body into its original shape. Great wings flapping against the sky as he rushed to the smoldering remains. The scouts there informed him that some of the humans had escaped. He clung to the hope in his heart that she was too clever to die so easily. And when she resurfaced, even as the face of the human resistance, he was happier than he had been in months.

The human resistance grew in size and power. They were resourceful. And they understood dragons in a way that only another dragon could. Many cursed the traitor who sided humans instead of her own kind. But Madara was quick to silence any talk of that with a snap of his teeth or a swipe of his claws.

He knew why she defended the humans.

Because she loved so freely and unselfishly. She couldn’t stand the sight of crying children. She emptied her pockets of coins into the hands of beggars on the streets. She grieved the decline of her kind. Of the knowledge and beauty that had been lost. But she would never stand aside to watch an innocent hurting. That was just who she was.

And why Madara knew she would never be able to live with herself if he had brought her along. She would have been ruined with guilt. Unable to turn away from him. But unable to accept the suffering he wrought across the lands.

The war dragged on for much longer than anyone expected. He grudgingly came to respect the humans for their resiliency. Some of the others grumbled that they didn’t know how to die gracefully. But others were patient. They knew that it was simply a matter of time before the humans collapsed.

A year after the war began, an ice blue dragon screeched across the skies. It was too large to be one of the children born after the fall. The ones fed on scraps and carrion, cowering away from the eyes of humans. This was a massive creature, rivaling one of the ancient ones. Madara sent out emissaries to make contact. They were repelled by a stinging wall of ice and wind.

“She doesn’t seem too keen on talking to anyone,” one of the emissaries reported between chattering teeth.

“She might have just woken from her hibernation. Might need some time to wake and get her bearings about her. Let’s try again next week,” another of the ancients suggested. And everyone agreed. A buzz of excitement traveled among them about the powerful ally they were about to gain.

The second group of emissaries returned after being buffeted by hail and frigid winds.

Madara should have realized then.

How she turned them away with no bloodshed. At the affinity for ice and snow. How had he not recognized her voice in the echoing shriek that shook the walls of the valleys?

So distracted by this new dragon, Madara failed to recognize that Sakura was missing from the front lines. He naively assumed that she had withdrawn to protect herself. As if that was something his love would ever abide.

The ice dragon swept across supply lines and blasted their strongholds to pieces. Only the ones foolish enough to venture too close were ever met with her claws and teeth. Madara was on the battlefield when he witnessed her snapping the neck of a young dragon who had attacked an orphanage. The crunch was sickening. Blood sprayed across the treetops.

And all he could think was: I’m glad she’s not here to see this.

They fashioned a weapon to eliminate this formidable obstacle. It was a weapon of legend, pulled from the rotting books he had once studied with Sakura what seemed like a lifetime ago. They forged the blade from metal and their own breaths. It was a barbed, ugly thing, filled with poison. Whoever was struck with it would suffer for a long time before dying.

“Good. That’s what a blood traitor gets,” many whispered.

They had rejoiced when the spear impaled the ice dragon. Her blood spurting out as it dug deep under her left wing. Her shrill cry cut through the heavens. Some took bets about how long she would last as she faltered through the sky.

Madara remembered sitting his quarters, breathing a sigh of relief. Finally, with that nuisance gone, things would fall into place.

+++++

She bled beautifully across his sheets. And he loved her even then.

She bled painfully across his sheets. And she loved him even then.

+++++

Sakura opened her eyes, her head still throbbing. She didn’t remember passing out in the first place. It was dark now. The fire crackling in the hearth filled the room with orange light.

Madara stood near the fire, his back to her.

“You know, it would be faster to leave me out in the woods to die,” she croaked.

His head whipped around. He threw the book aside as he rushed over to her. Sakura could only stare at the book. She had never seen him mishandle a text like that- even the ones he declared “garbage”.

Her gaze slowly fell on her right hand. Madara was gripping it tightly with both of his. She felt him shaking.

“You didn’t expect me to wake up,” Sakura observed.

“Forgive me, my love,” he whispered, pressing her clenched fist to his lips.

“No.” Sakura kept her gaze focused straight ahead. “I’ll never forgive you. I’m going to make you live with that for the rest of your life,” she declared. That felt more like a declaration of war than anything else she had done.

She had been unconscious for nearly a week. And during that time, Madara had frantically pored through every book at his disposal. And by some miracle, he managed to extract the poison. Enough of it for her body to slowly begin to knit itself back together again.

Sakura stared at her back in the mirror. No one needed to tell her. But with the scarring, it was possible that she would never fly again.

Yet another thing he had stolen from her.

Madara looked sick to his stomach when she told him so.

Curious gazes flickered toward Madara’s quarters. Everyone knew who was inside. Some spat in her direction. Others lingered under windows and near doors, straining to catch even a snippet of their conversations.

“Are you going to let me go?” Sakura inquired.

Madara couldn’t meet her eyes.

“I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” she wondered.

She averted her eyes when he grasped her hands. He pulled them to his forehead, as if in prayer.

“Just one more day. One more,” he pleaded.

She didn’t know who or what he was pleading to.

Most times that he tried to strike up a conversation, she ignored him. And she ignored the food he set down in front of her. Even as her stomach twisted and gurgled at the sight of hot soup and warm bread. She pushed it away. Once she even smashed everything to the floor. Madara said nothing as he got down on his hands and knees to mop up the spill and gather up the shards.

But anger was draining. It was so tiring to stoke the flames of rage each time he entered her line of sight.

She curled up on her side and wished that she would wake up from an awful nightmare. Madara would hug her close against the morning chill. They would whisper about what they planned to research that day. Looking forward to the smell of old books and the scratch of quill across paper. Remembering that made the anger surge to the top for a moment. Anger at what he had given to her, only to snatch away.

Sometimes she wanted to punch him in the face. Other times she just wanted to cry.

“How are you so large?”

He asked the question like he was expecting her to ignore this one too.

Sakura lay on her side, back to him. Thinking. And then she heaved a sigh.

“Mother ate… everything. Fish, deer, garbage. Even dead humans. She dug up their graves and ate their bones.”

Silence answered her.

“…Our kind… we’re not meant to live this way. Scavengers. Tiny little things. Everyone was meant to be your size. Or even larger,” Madara whispered after some time.

Sakura closed her eyes. “I don’t know what any of us are meant for anymore,” she replied.

He didn’t know how to respond to that.

That was one of the few conversations he managed to hold with her. One of the others was about why she stood with the humans- even though he already had a feeling how she would answer.

“It’s not that I don’t want our kind to live. It’s just that I don’t think everyone else deserves to die,” she said.

Madara’s heart swelled with affection and pain all at once.

+++++

Madara slept in the armchair by the fireplace. Sakura knew she had taken his bed. And she didn’t have any idea of what lay outside the door of this room, but she was certain that there were other beds he could have taken. Instead, he slumped there at night, looking like the weight of the world sat on his shoulders. And she wondered why she couldn’t bring herself to pity him.

One night, Madara blinked. He had been dozing off with a book in his lap. Just something to pass the time. He blinked again when the book fell to the floor. Sakura slid into his lap instead.

‘This has to be a dream,’ was his first thought.

And when her arm slid around his shoulders, he was certain. That this was just a dream. He would wake up to the miserable consequences of his decisions. And she would still refuse to look him in the eyes.

Sakura smiled at him. For a moment, it was the way she used to look at him. Before she learned what an awful, twisted thing he truly was. Her hand smoothed down his cheek.

“You never said. Did you want a boy or a girl first?” she asked.

A startled laugh left his lips. It was a rusty sound. It had been so long since he had even thought about laughing.

“I don’t know. I would have been a terrible father to either,” he responded.

Her eyebrows knitted together. For a moment, she looked so terribly sad. And then she leaned in press a kiss to his lips.

He wanted her to whisper something. Anything. Even if it was an insult. Even if she swore to kill him someday. Instead, all he saw was the flutter of her eyelashes as her sleeping spell wove around him and pulled him down under the surface.

Madara woke to shouting in their base. As he turned his head to the window, he heard a screech vibrate through the air. An icy blue dragon flapped its wings. She flew crookedly, but she flew. Madara shed silent tears as he watched her fly off into the distance.

+++++

The dragons bathed the world in fire. The last human cities resisted to the bitter end. And then they fell. Perhaps some of the survivors scattered into the wilderness. Carving out families and societies underground or deep in the woods. They were resilient that way. That was part of the reason she had loved them so much.

Then word came. The news he had dreaded hearing each day. Madara shoved through soldiers and advisors. He warped his body, shedding thin human skin for his true form. He was speeding through the air- so quickly that the great flaps of his wings sent things toppling.

The battlefield was still smoldering when he landed. Spiky walls of ice were scattered among the ashes. Some of the fallen bodies were peppered with clear shards that had mixed with blood.

And there she was.

Her chest barely rising and falling. Her blood soaked the ground beneath her. Two humans huddled a little ways from her. One was crying. Madara wished he didn’t recognize them. He wondered why one was missing.

“You have ruined me,” he uttered as he fell to his knees.

She was so pale. But she somehow opened her eyes. They were too lucid as she found him.

She smiled.

“Good,” she replied. She raised her hand. He wished she would muster the strength to punch him. Instead, she caressed his cheek as she asked: “Was this the only way for us to survive?”

It was a question Madara had asked many times before. Was it necessarily for humans to burn so that dragons may live? Was it necessary to destroy? But history had proven that only the strong survived. A gentle return would only continue the cycle of hunting and enslavement.

“Yes, it was,” Madara replied. He grasped her hand and clutched it against his cheek.

“Then you did what you had to. And so did I,” Sakura declared. He didn’t understand why she was smiling at him like that. Beaming. So radiantly. As if he had presented her with all of the riches in the world. As if he hadn’t burnt everything she held dear.

“Madara.”

His gaze returned to meet hers.

She looked like she had something else to say. But then an odd look crossed her face. Her expression warmed again. And then her eyes closed for the last time.

Madara had been mistaken. He had thought these years of war and separation had been agony.

It was only now that he truly felt misery that engulfed his soul. He clutched her against his chest as he sobbed. Ugly, choking noises spilled from his mouth as he begged her not to go. Begged the gods of every religion he knew to take him instead. He pleaded for the heavens to have mercy just this once. To breathe the spark of life back into his beloved.

Sakura had loved him so tenderly. And he had tenderly destroyed her.

Blinded by his tears, Madara began to dig into the bloodied soil with his bare hands. He buried her body there, bathed her in his tears. So that when the land recovered someday, flowers might bloom over her. All the flowers he had failed to give to her in his foolish conquest.

The dragons celebrated for the first time in centuries. Finally, they were free to come out of hiding. They could reclaim the lands they had once roamed. To break into the abandoned human cities and lay the mutilated remains of their ancestors to rest.

Madara lay silent beside her grave. As the rain showered down on him. As the winds blew. As the sun seared the back of his neck. He waited until the first shoots poked their way through the soil over her grave. He didn’t know whether flowers or weeds would grow there. It didn’t matter, honestly. He gathered his stiff limbs and finally left her side.

He wandered. Not because he had nowhere to go. He was a hero among his kind. Any city would gladly open its doors to the one who had led their revolution.

But still, Madara wandered. Because there was no place with her anymore.

The cities to the north once boasted walls studded with jewels that sang. He went there first, only to find that the war had crushed those jewels to powder. They would sing no more. Madara journeyed instead to the east to see the oceans that turned red in the sunset. It was difficult to see beauty when they just reminded him of the oceans of blood he had spilled.

“I love you,” she had whispered for the first time under the twinkling starlight. Even those stars didn’t seem to shine as brightly anymore. That felt like his fault too.

The years bled into each other as he continued his travels. Never lingering anywhere for too long. Chased by a familiar shadow. Out of the corner of his eye, he would glimpse pink hair or he would hear a phantom laugh on the breeze. But always, when he turned, when he searched, he was alone. And it was what he deserved, he told himself.

It was a relief when he felt his body begin to fail.

And finally, when he felt the cold overtake him, he hobbled back to her grave.

It was covered in bright yellow flowers. He laid his head down on the carpet of soft petals. His heavy eyelids fell.

When he opened his eyes, his head was in her lap. She was as young and as lovely as he remembered. On her head was a crown of yellow flowers. She looked like the queen of some beautiful land. It suited her far more than blood and ash.

Sakura cupped his cheek. She leaned over to press a kiss to his lips. He fought the urge to cry.

“I need to tell you something,” he croaked.

Her eyebrows rose. She touched his other cheek too now. Cradling his face with care he didn’t deserve.

“I’m a dragon too,” he whispered.

Sakura’s eyes widened. It was a confession that should have come many, many years ago. On that night she had shared her secret with him, he should have shared his too. Madara searched her face. Would she shove him away? Would she curse him and hit him?

Instead, she leaned in close, her nose almost touching his. And she whispered back:

“You’re a lying piece of shit.”

Madara couldn’t tell whether he was laughing or crying. Perhaps it was both. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him. Tears flowing and flowing. Washing away the years of guilt that had clogged his heart.

“Was I right? Were you right?”

“I don’t know.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

+++++

Part one << Part two >> Part three

#fanfiction #tragedy #angstyyy #fantasy au #madasaku

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What Bloomed [2/3]

Part Two: Was Love

“Don’t bend the spines of the books.”

That was one of the first things Sakura recalled hearing him say.

She had arrived later than the rest of the group. An old friend had asked her to provide some input about some artifacts they had excavated from an ancient temple.

One look at the pieces had made it clear to Sakura that they were dragon-made. But she knew no one would believe her if she said so. So she made some vague observations about time periods and possible uses. The gathered scholars nodded and jotted down notes. It was in the middle of this excavation that a letter had arrived from Tenten, asking if she could join her on this lucrative assignment.

Sakura had worked with Tenten on a few expeditions. She knew that Tenten only took jobs that seemed worthwhile. So she penned back a quick reply before she began packing her things.

The rest of the group had already set out with their supplies. Sakura rode a few days to the west before she managed to catch up with them. They were holed up in an abandoned castle, digging through the moldy library and searching through whatever documents the previous occupants had left behind.

As everyone waded through the mess to introduce themselves, Madara stayed right where he was. Squinting through the dusty windows, scowling a little harder each time he flipped a page.

“Garbage,” he declared after a moment. He snapped it shut and placed it on a tall pile- presumably full of other rejects. HIs head snapped to the side when he noticed Shikamaru pull a thick book from one of the shelves that hadn’t collapsed yet. When he pried the cover open, Madara frowned.

“Don’t bend the spines of the books.”

Shikamaru shot him an incredulous look. “You’ve spent the last two days calling everything in this place garbage. And you’re worried about bent spines?”

When Madara’s eyes only narrowed further, Shikamaru huffed. He shoved the book up against Madara’s chest.

“Fine. You read all these damn things. I’ll go lumber my way around like the stupid beast I am,” Shikamaru grumbled, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Please do,” answered Madara, his nose already in this book.

Sakura watched the exchange with interest. As Shikamaru stalked off, Temari followed after him, laughing about something. That left her standing in the room with Madara. She observed him squinting in the dark. Obviously not trusting a lantern with a flame around such delicate texts.

She swirled her fingers together. A wisp of golden light flared up between them. She repeated the action with her other hand. When she tossed the light over to Madara’s side of the room, he finally looked over at her. As if he had just realized that she was still there.

“Is that one garbage too?” Sakura asked.

His eyebrows rose. When she gestured to the book, he glanced down at it. Then over at the orb of warm light hovering beside him.

“….No, actually. This one might be useful,” he said so softly that it almost seemed like he was talking to himself. His gaze lingered on the magical light again.

“Thank you. I’m Madara,” he then added.

“I’m Sakura. I promise not to bend the spines,” replied Sakura as she opened the nearest text.

+++++

She expected him to be just a dry scholar. After all, he was obsessed with reading. And he recited facts like he was a walking encyclopedia. Those were the sorts of men that were so easy to fluster.

So it completely blindsided Sakura when she settled beside him one evening and realized that he knew how to flirt just as well as her.

The others had gone to bed after supper. Not that she judged. They had spent the past few days searching for hidden passages and safes all over the castle. A section of rotted floor had collapsed under them and they had spent the better part of the day searching for a way out. Sakura was glad that the books had kept her far away from that mess.

Sakura had decided to go to bed over an hour ago. But after her bath, she found herself lying awake on her bedroll. Staring up at the canvas ceiling of her tent.

“I thought you were ‘sick of reading’ for the day?” Madara greeted her when she pushed the door open. She had thrown a cloak over her clothes. The castle was drafty- especially since parts of the ceiling were missing.

“Why? Did you miss me?” she teased as she took a seat beside him.

To her surprise, her tore his gaze away from the book in his lap. And he smiled. “And if I said I did?”

She choked a little and pretended that some dust had gotten into her throat.

A week after Sakura arrived, it was time to move on to the next location on the map.

Maybe it was because Madara often stayed up late, he didn’t say much in the morning. When she offered him some tea, he gulped it down with his eyes still closed. He nodded his thanks to her before he shuffled off to disassemble his tent.

Once they were on the road, Temari attempted to make conversation.

“So, Tenten says you’ve done a couple jobs together.” She leaned across her saddle to speak. Clicking his tongue, Shikamaru pushed her back upright. He nagged, “Careful” under his breath.

Sakura nodded. “The last time we saw each other was… a year ago?” Sakura looked over at Tenten for confirmation. The other woman nodded.

“Some mountain ruins and a weird code to decipher. I wasn’t paying much attention to that part. My job was fighting off bandits,” confessed Tenten.

“So ruins are your thing?” Temari inquired.

Sakura laughed. “I guess so. There’s just…. so much knowledge in the past that we’ve forgotten. Seems a shame to let it all go to waste.”

Madara didn’t say anything, but his face softened a little as he looked her way.

The next place they arrived was a small magic academy. Their client had written them a letter of introduction. The headmaster didn’t seem too pleased, but he opened the doors to them.

Sakura threw her luggage down in the room the headmaster showed her before she was running in the direction of the archives. When Madara arrived a half hour later, she was already lost among the shelves.

“Anything of interest?” he asked as he shut the door behind him.

Her head peered around the edge of a massive bookshelf that reached all the way to the gilded ceiling.

“They have the unabridged History of the Deep Mountains here,” she whispered.

Madara’s eyes widened.

“An excerpt?” he asked.

She shook her head. “The whole thing. Including a list of references,” she responded.

Madara’s eyes seemed to sparkle as she deposited the heavy book in his waiting hands.

It was nice perusing through a collection that didn’t raise clouds of dust each time they moved.

The librarian seemed to have been sent by the headmaster to keep tabs on them. As if without supervision they would start tearing the books and setting them on fire. Sakura muttered this suspicion to Madara. He chuckled.

Sakura preferred to gather all her books and curl up in a corner. Surrounded by the stacks, it made it easier for her to hide from anyone who came looking for her. And when she was done with one reading, she could simply pluck the next one from a pile.

Madara, on the other hand, walked while he read. Sometimes he leaned. But he was almost always standing. He spread his fingers to carry the book while the other peeled back the pages. More than once, Sakura found her gaze lingering on his hands. At the elegant way they curved around the corners of whatever book was fortunate enough to receive his attention that day.

Something else she noticed was that he hated when someone tried to speak to him while he read. Shikamaru cared the least about Madara’s irritation. So he had no issues with opening the library doors to share some update.

Madara’s nostrils would flare. Mouth twisting to one side, he stopped moving his eyes across the page. If Shikamaru’s interruption lasted more than a few seconds, he would look up from his work with a glower. Shikamaru had no problem glaring right back. Sometimes Sakura wondered if he ever considered throwing a book at him.

She asked.

Madara turned away from his reading with a furrow in his brow.

“And risk damaging a book? Never,” he answered.

Sakura found herself smiling. She rested her chin on the edge of her own tome. “Maybe a chair then?”

Madara considered that. He leaned against the nearest table with one hand. He snapped the book shut. But she didn’t worry. He always remembered what page he had been on.

“These chairs are heavy,” he answered, nudging one with the tip of his boot.

Sakura tilted her head to one side. She let it rest against her shoulder. “I’d help you.”

Her stomach fluttered at the warmth that filled his smile. His eyes crinkled a little.

“I’m honored,” Madara replied.

+++++

“You’re going to start growing mushrooms if you stay cooped up inside for too long,” Tenten scolded her as she urged her to drink one night.

Sakura had planned to spend the evening in the library. Mostly in silence with Madara. Occasionally sharing excerpts from their individual readings. Maybe trading a few jokes here and there. But Temari and Tenten had dragged her away from the library and shoved a flask into her hand. Sakura sniffed at the contents and made a noise of disgust. Still, she took a sip. It didn’t taste as bad as it smelled.

She liked this group of people. She had taken countless jobs before. Most of the people she traveled with were mercenaries, who always had interesting stories to tell. People, she found, were just like books. It took time and effort to truly understand them.

As she had suspected, Shikamaru and Temari were a couple.

“Married, actually,” Temari announced proudly as she showed off her simple silver band. She nudged Shikamaru, who produced his hand and displayed the matching ring on his finger.

“We’re saving up to buy a house. Fill it with kids,” Temari then said.

“Fill it? What’s that mean?” Tenten wondered.

“10,” Temari declared.

“3,” Shikamaru countered.

They exchanged a look that said they weren’t entirely serious.

“9,” Temari amended.

“1,” Shikamaru said in return.

Tenten made a gagging noise as the couple leaned in to kiss. But Sakura smiled.

“So, now that we’ve got some booze in you, speak up. We already know Tenten’s story,” Temari then grilled her. She leaned against Shikamaru’s arm.

Sakura stared down at her flask with suspicion.

“Is this an interrogation?” she demanded.

Shikamaru shrugged while Temari laughed.

Sakura knew all about Tenten too. She was open about herself that way. Her mom and sister ran a weapons shop in the south somewhere. Tenten had a fiancee- an uptight paladin she had known since childhood.

“He only pretends to be grumpy. He’s sweet, honestly,” Tenten protested when Temari teased her about it.

Temari raised her eyebrows. “Speaking of grumpy…” She didn’t need to finish her sentence. Everyone knew who she was referring to.

Sakura took a swig of her drink- just to avoid having to speak.

“Lingering glances? Don’t think I haven’t noticed,” Temari wheedled.

“You think researching dead people is romantic?” scoffed Sakura. She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth.

Shikamaru arched an eyebrow at her. “Do you not?”

Her next sip went down the wrong way.

Temari burst out laughing.

Still, it wasn’t bad to sit here chatting like this. The conversation turned to hometowns and childhoods. Tenten and Sakura told the story of the job they took to steal an old map from a backstabbing merchant. They laughed. And it reminded Sakura of long gone times. Sitting at her parents’ feet as they traded stories like this too.

As the drinks ran out, Shikamaru circled back.

“He’s too old for you,” he pointed out.

“I think it’s cute. The two bookworms becoming the two lovebirds,” declared Temari.

Eventually, their joking grew too slurred and too silly. Sakura excused herself for the night as Temari and Tenten broke into song together. Shikamaru waved at her as she walked off into the night. Steps teetering just a little as she snuck her way back to the library.

Unsurprisingly, the light was still on. She could see it flickering under the door before she pushed it open.

Madara sat in front of the fireplace. Book in one hand. The other tucked under his chin. His fingers moved as he read. There was a furrow in his brow. He didn’t even acknowledge her entrance with a look. Maybe he hadn’t even noticed her walk in.

He did notice her when she leaned against his arm, craning over his shoulder to peek at his page.

“Anything worthwhile? Or more garbage?” she inquired.

Madara blinked. He lifted his head, turning to meet her gaze.

“There you are. I thought you’d been kidnapped,” he said.

She smiled. “I was. Into drinks and socializing. You should try it sometime.”

He looked disgusted at the prospect. Still, he didn’t tell her to move away from him. In fact, he shut his book and placed it on the table.

Sakura reached for it. She ran her fingers over the gold lettering on the cover.

“It’s garbage, by the way. Wildly inaccurate and speculative. I don’t know who in their right mind would have published this shoddy work,” Madara answered her earlier question.

She smiled again.

“You know, don’t you?” she asked him.

“Know what?” Madara didn’t seem annoyed at her vague wording. In fact, he almost seemed amused. That expression slipped off his face when she sat on the armrest of his chair. She placed a hand on his shoulder for balance.

“It has to be on purpose. There’s no way you don’t know,” she went on.

When Madara simply blinked at her, Sakura sighed. She put her other hand on his other shoulder.

“That I think it’s sexy when you criticize books. You do it on purpose,” Sakura accused.

Madara went very still.

“The sexy, critical scholar thing. It’s an act, isn’t it? Just to try to get me into bed. Did Tenten tell you I was into that? Ugh, I’m going to kill her,” she ranted.

She only stopped talking when she felt Madara’s hand rest on her knee. She looked down at him. The expression on his face made her cheeks warm.

“I am a critical scholar. I suppose you finding it sexy is just a pleasant… side benefit,” Madara responded. His hand squeezed very gently around her knee. And then it fell away.

“But this is something we should discuss later. Maybe after you’ve have a good night’s sleep,” he then suggested. When Sakura didn’t move, he grasped her forearms and pulled her hands into her lap. He clasped his hands around hers.

“I’m not that drunk,” she protested.

He smiled. “Perhaps not. Tomorrow. We’ll talk then,” he said anyway.

He sent her off to bed.

Sakura woke in the morning with a headache, half-wondering if she had dreamt the whole conversation. And when she realized it hadn’t all been a strange dream, she almost dreaded having to face Madara again. She slunk back into the library, eyes darting nervously around the huge archive.

“How are you feeling? Should I close the curtains for you?”

Sakura jumped as she spotted him walking out from behind a bookshelf. There was an encyclopedia open in his hands. Their eyes met. His smile was filled with warmth. No different than normal.

“I… No, I’m fine. Good morning,” she fumbled the words out as best as she could.

“Excellent. I found something last night. I was hoping to get your insight on it,” Madara then said, gesturing to the huge text in his hands. He walked over to set it down a table. Her awkwardness forgotten, Sakura joined him to squint down at the pages. Her face lit up as she realized what she was looking at.

“Oh! I’ve seen this! This is a reference to an old folk tale. I’ve only ever seen it referenced in other works before. Is this the original?” Sakura gushed. She reached for the book. Madara pushed it over without protest as she flipped through the pages. She paused to skim through the footnotes.

“Are you doing this on purpose too, then?”

His voice was so quiet that she almost missed it.

“Hm?”

“Your scholar thing. I also find it extremely attractive,” Madara confessed.

If she had been carrying the book, she would have dropped it. Probably on his foot by accident.

Sakura didn’t dare look at him. She kept her eyes fixed on the page.

“Just the scholar thing?” she heard herself ask.

He chuckled. The sound made her knees go weak.

“No. Not just that. Although, I’m uncertain you’d want me to elaborate when we have an audience.”

Sakura glanced up in time to see the red-faced librarian duck behind a shelf.

Sakura took a deep breath to calm herself. Her hand clenched against the tabletop.

“Madara.” His name came out as the tiniest whisper.

“Yes?”

“I want to kiss you so badly right now.”

The answering silence was crushing. She stole a glance at him. Half-expecting him to have turned his back on her. Instead, he was watching her. Like he was considering something. When she reached back to take his hand, he seemed to come to a decision.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“To where?” she asked. Bewildered.

“I don’t know. Somewhere quiet so you can kiss me, I suppose.”

And she let him pull her. Trying to stifle her laughter as they ran down the corridor together.

+++++

When they moved on from the academy, it took them several weeks to reach their next destination. Madara wasn’t one for public affection, but he didn’t seem to mind when she let her hand brush over his. Or when she snuck a quick kiss to the cheek when no one was looking. In fact, his expression softened whenever she did. The usual scowl returned to his face by the time anyone else was looking at him again.

At night, when everyone else had crawled into their tents, Sakura pressed her back against his and let her head fall against his shoulder.

He often asked her what she was thinking about.

“I’m not always pondering historical lore, you know,” she warned once.

And she felt his back shaking as he laughed a little.

“I know. So what are you thinking about if not historical lore?” he insisted.

Sometimes she was remembering a happy memory. Other times, she was looking forward to running water and a clean bed again. Once, he asked, and it happened to be when she was imagining kissing him again. He was only happy to make her daydream come true right then and there.

She had never met anyone like him before. Someone who challenged her wit, and delighted to be challenged in return. Whenever they argued about sources or about which historical account to believe, he never seemed angry or frustrated. In fact, he looked ecstatic when she would pull out a fact that proved him wrong.

She was glad that Madara’s prickliness made the others reluctant to disturb their research. It meant that she could curl up against his side with a book and her notebook to scribble in. And if she wanted to stretch her legs across his lap, he had no problem resting his reading on her shins as they worked. If she came across a word she didn’t know, he always took the time to explain it in terms she could understand.

A few times, she nodded off in the middle of a sentence. She came to a few hours later with his cloak draped over her shoulders. Sometimes his hand stroked her arm or back.

Their expedition was meant to span across a few weeks. But as they dug into the archives, they found more information that implied more powerful connections. The client offered more money for greater detail. And everyone was more than happy to accept the negotiated contract. After all, Shikamaru, Temari, and Tenten were mostly free to do as they pleased while Madara and Sakura continued their research. It was probably the easiest job they would ever have.

One of their sources led them to a decadent archive in a huge city. The sheer size of the marble and gold building made Sakura’s jaw drop when they first arrived. The lord of this city was friends with their client. And so they were provided with the finest lodgings and the best food. Shikamaru and Temari looked close to tears of joy as they sipped the vintage wine. Tenten declared that she never wanted to leave her feather bed again.

It was there, in that dazzling city with the glittering lights that Madara held her for the first time. The pleasure was wonderful. Of course it was. But what she relished even more was the closeness that came afterwards. The ease in his face as he drifted off to sleep. The yawning greeting when they woke in the morning. His hand resting on her back, her leg as they read, almost like he didn’t even realize he was touching her. As if it was the most natural thing in the world to always be this close.

Tenten complained about being stuck between two nauseating couples on this trip now. But not even that teasing could ruin the days and nights that ached with how perfect they felt.

They left the city eventually. On the road towards their next destination.

Their group journeyed for almost a year together. Gathering knowledge. Stumbling upon lost treasures and inevitably getting tangled up in the research for those artifacts too. They complained that this was such an unnecessarily complicated job. But Sakura knew from the way they smiled and joked on the road that no one was unhappy. And she envied the way humans were able to make families in such unconventional ways.

And one night, as the leaves began to turn gold and red, Sakura stared up at Madara’s face. Shikamaru had managed to convince him to join them for drinks after supper that night. She suspected that Madara only agreed when he realized that she would be there too. The two men still traded their barbs. But it fooled no one. Friends were friends- even when they were insulting one another. The faint smell of whatever home-brewed swill Shikamaru had fed them lingered on their breaths.

She rubbed her knuckles across his stubble. He kissed her hand. And when she didn’t stop, he reached out of the blankets to grab her hand and pull it against his chest instead.

“Go to sleep, my love. We’ve had a long day,” he mumbled.

“Madara,” she whispered. Just to watch his eyes flutter open. “I love you.”

His eyes crinkled. He kissed her forehead. Then her lips. “As do I. And I’ll love you just the same in the morning once we’ve had some rest.”

The way he closed his eyes again made her feel like it would be alright if she told him.

So she confessed the secret she held so carefully from everyone else: “I’m a dragon.”

He smiled a little. “That’s not a reference I understand. Is that from a poem? I didn’t expect you to be the type to recite poetry in bed.” The teasing warmth in his voice made her chest ache a little.

“Madara.”

His eyes opened. Searching her face for something. Something sobered him.

“I’ve never told anyone this before,” she added, voice barely above a whisper.

His hand emerged from the covers again, this time to cup her cheek. And then he moved his other arm to wrap it around her. Drawing her closer.

“Tell me from the start, my love. I’m listening,” he assured her. The way he said that made her brave.

They spent the entire night that way. Madara asking questions here and there, but mostly listening. And her finally telling him the truth of her childhood spent frolicking in treetops. Learning to fly from her father and learning to hunt from her mother. Keeping far away from humans. Fleeing the hunters that would tear their bones and scales away as trophies.

“Can you turn into one?” he asked. Eyes glittering with excitement.

She considered that. And then she nodded. “I could. But I’d break the tent.”

He laughed. She wondered how someone could laugh handsomely. But he did. Then he was kissing her again.

“Thank you for trusting me, my love. I’m honored,” he said as he held her face in his hands. But his smile faded when he saw that she didn’t seem so glad.

“What is it? Did I say something?” he wondered. She shook her head. And then she buried her face in his chest, suddenly embarrassed.

Madara was impatient. He could be brusque. But never with her. He held her. Patting her back until she found the courage to put her thoughts into words.

“….I… I’ve thought about… can… would it be possible… if I wanted to start a family with you… could that even work?” she stumbled over all the words in every way possible. She wondered if he could even make sense of what she had just said.

His arms tightened around her. She felt the way his breath caught.

“Oh… Oh, my love,” he breathed. He was trembling now.

That gave her the courage to finally meet his eyes again. He looked like he was about to cry.

“With me?” Madara repeated. As if he didn’t trust his own ears. Sakura nodded. He kissed her.

“Why me?” he wondered against her lips.

What a funny thing to say. As if there was anyone else who made her feel this way. As if there was anyone else she would ever want to wake to. To snuggle someone who was half of her and half of him in the early morning hours. To hold hands with a little boy or girl who would smile the same crooked way as him.

“You are a gift. I don’t deserve you,” Madara sighed, his forehead touching hers. “Thank you.”

She was thrilled at how he accepted all these things about her. She felt so glad that she had chosen to trust him as she fell asleep in his arms.

As they reached the last stop on their map, Sakura began to wonder at all the places they could go once this job was over. There were cities to the north that were rumored to glitter with jewels that sang. Or they could go to the east and swim in oceans that turned red in the sunset. She had discussed all those places and more with Madara. And he had agreed to each suggestion- even given more of his own.

She shyly asked whether he would want a boy or a girl first. And his smiles were so tender as he kissed her again and again.

She was thrilled.

Until one morning, she had woken to an empty spot beside her.

Most of Madara’s things were still there. His rucksack lined up beside hers. The only things gone were his cloak, his journal, and him.

Shikamaru, Temari, and Tenten were just as baffled to see him nowhere. They searched every corner of the city. They searched every building. Questioned every person they could find. They sent letters to their previous destinations. To contacts. To anyone who might have spotted him. A know-it-all scholar who had left his heart behind.

Weeks went by with no word from him. Sakura turned quiet and sharp. She tried to laugh, tried to smile. But it wasn’t the same. She carried his rucksack along with hers. And hugged it to her chest as she slept. Shedding tears as she wondered where he had gone. What had taken him from her?

It was Sakura who eventually called off the search. She felt guilty dragging her friends around the continent in search of Madara. They had their lives to lead.

“You need to buy your house,” she reminded Shikamaru and Temari. Temari looked ready to burst into tears at the very suggestion.

“No. You need to come with us. We won’t leave you behind,” insisted Temari.

And that was how they settled into a large city. Shikamaru and Temari bought their house on the outskirts. One with a big yard and lots of extra rooms. Tenten and Sakura each settled into a room. Sakura took the one with the big windows and the space for a big bookcase.

“Lots of people come and go from here. And we’ve left word with the guild. If he’s out there, he’ll know to find you here,” Tenten assured her one night, squeezing Sakura’s shoulder.

When dragons had descended upon the city in fury a few weeks later, Sakura had spent every sleepless night imagining Madara’s charred body smoking in a crater somewhere. She wept until her eyes stung. Wishing. Hoping. Regretting.

Why had the humans put their faith in her to lead them?

She didn’t understand.

And when her agents revealed the identity of the leader of the dragons, she found that she understood even less than she thought she had.

Her heart shattered into pieces when she spotted him from across the battlefield. Smoke rose from the end of her staff as she lowered it. When their eyes met, he didn’t seem surprised at all. He even had the gall to call her name with that familiar half-smile.

“Sakura.”

It made her sick to her stomach when she heard him call her with that voice.

+++++

“Sakura.”

“Just kill me and get it over with,” she snapped.

Madara looked like she had just twisted a dagger into his side. “I have done many terrible things, my love. But I could never do that.”

“You’re a lying piece of shit,” she scoffed.

He didn’t disagree with her.

They sat on opposite corners of the bed, as far away from each other as possible. The soft covers might as well have been a bottomless chasm.

“I didn’t realize you were such a skilled fighter until I saw you in the plains,” Madara suddenly said.

She knew exactly which battle he was referring to. Her magic had splintered off into bombs that shattered inside the ribcages of her enemies. That was early in the war. When they had still thought that victory might be in their grasp.

Sakura stared down at the bed.

“Why didn’t you say you were leaving?” she wondered. She wished she could make her voice angrier. She didn’t have the energy.

“Because I thought you would follow me,” Madara replied.

She frowned. And then her hands clenched in the blanket. “I would have,” she agreed.

She would have. When she thought all the stars in the sky lived in his eyes. He could have asked her for anything and she would have plunged along into the muck after him like a silly little girl.

“How did you get that wound, Sakura?” Madara asked again.

With a tired sigh, Sakura lifted her head. “What do you mean? You shot me,” she replied.

She didn’t understand why Madara wept.

+++++

Part one << Part two >> Part three

#fanfiction #tragedy #fantasy AU #madasaku #angst #the betrayal #man if i were Sakura i'd beat the shit out of him the second i saw him again #it would be ON SIGHT #one more part left

[silverfootstepswrites]

What Bloomed [1/3]

Part One: Was Betrayal

"Report?"

"We lost two ballistas in the last skirmish."

"Are either worth repairing?"

"The reporting soldier called it mostly 'burning rubble'."

A sigh hissed through teeth. After a few taps, the first voice spoke again.

"Cannibalize what parts you can to repair the remaining siege equipment. And bring a report of injuries and casualties as soon as you can."

"Alright... How's your shoulder?"

"It hurts."

There was a sound almost like a chuckle. "I'll send someone to the healer to see if we can get you another salve."

"Thank you."

Sunlight spilled into the tent as the flap pulled back. And then there was a pause. Report held in one hand, he turned back to look at her. She sat on the stump someone had hacked into a makeshift chair. Her left hand rested on her shoulder, squeezing as she grimaced against the pain. He almost pitied her as her bloodshot eyes fell on him lingering there.

"What is it?" she asked.

"We can't win this war. You must know that," he warned her.

A tired smile crossed her face.

"I know. Thank you anyway," she answered.

+++++

Blood seeped through Sakura's bandages as she exited the strategy tent later. The huge war map was rolled up and clenched in one hand. Her head swiveled as she looked around the bustling camp.

Men hurried past with arms full of torn cloth. A healer shouted for someone to come apply pressure. Scavengers circled above, hovering but never coming close enough for anyone to bother shooting them down.

The smell of ash always lingered in the air after a battle. She lifted her gaze to the sky. It was hazy, but the faint orange glow toward the hills alerted her that the sun was probably beginning to set.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Are you well enough to be walking around like this?”

Sakura opened her eyes. She turned to the voice with a wan smile. “Probably not.”

Temari gave her a grim look in return. The cut on her cheek had healed over some- but it was still angry and red. It would probably scar.

“You should rest while you can,” Temari urged.

“I should,” Sakura agreed, looking back out at the camp again.

“Scouts in the mountain pass say that things seem quiet for now. Seems like he’s retreated for now,” Temari informed her.

“We did a number on them. They’re probably regrouping to come up with a new strategy,” mused Sakura.

Temari smirked. “You mean you did a number on them,” she corrected.

Sakura didn’t return the smile. Her shoulder throbbed again at the memory.

“Well, I won’t be able to do that again anytime soon. We should send word to the capital that we’ll need reinforcements and more supplies,” she stated.

Temari’s forehead wrinkled. “I said the mountain pass seems quiet. I wouldn’t suggest using it.”

Sakura’s gaze wandered when she spotted Shikamaru and Tenten approaching. They spotted her too and quickened their pace.

Before Tenten could ask if she was well enough to be up, Sakura filled them in on their latest dilemma.

“Supplies can’t go through the mountain pass. What can we do?” Sakura demanded.

Shikamaru rubbed a hand over his face. “The valley pass is the only other path of that size. And that’s flooded after the rockslide last month.” Dark circles of exhaustion sagged under his eyes. Even as the words left his mouth he seemed to know how pointless his answer was.

Tenten’s mouth pressed into a tight line. “We could arrange for supplies to arrive at a nearby village. We could have refugees and agents posing as refugees smuggle the supplies to us on their way.”

“That would put the refugees at risk. And the town,” Temari protested.

“And to do nothing puts all of our soldiers at risk,” Tenten shot back.

Sakura pinched the bridge of her nose. “Enough. Both of you have valid concerns.”

Tenten and Temari took steps away from each other. The tension was still there, but Sakura knew the two of them would make amends later. Usually over a drink as they tried to hold on to the shrinking list of good things that still remained.

She handed the rolled map to Shikamaru.

“We’ll go with Tenten’s plan. Station patrols along the path to keep an eye on the refugees to make sure they have safe passage. In the meantime, we’ll have some agents move to a false location. That should provide some distraction,” Sakura decided.

“The spies have likely been replaced already,” Tenten warned.

“We’ll make the information seem as urgent and confidential as possible. Someone will pick up on it, I’m sure,” Shikamaru suggested. Tenten thought that over for a while. And then she nodded in his direction.

They both looked over when Sakura winced. Temari’s expression darkened.

“You’ve been moving around too much. I’ll get a healer for you.” Temari was already hurrying away before Sakura could pretend to be okay.

No one was quite sure of what had struck Sakura during the last battle. It was a spear of some sort. The barbs made sure that it did even more damage coming out than it had going in. It had caught her under her left shoulder blade, tearing through muscle and sinew. The healers said it was a miracle that she hadn’t bled out during the removal alone.

“The arm will probably be usable, but you might not get the movement back in it ever again,” Tsunade had warned her, hands and arms still covered in blood from the procedure.

The wound grew hot and hissed with steam as Sakura focused on it now. She could feel the edges begin to reach back toward each other. But she didn’t have the energy to heal it over now. She felt a little sick. She closed her eyes to try to fight the dizziness. She didn’t realize she had stumbled until she heard Tenten and Shikamaru both call her name.

“Alright. You need to lay down. We can talk strategy later,” Shikamaru sighed. He pulled her good arm over his shoulders and began pulling her back in the direction of her tent.

+++++

It had been two years since the world realized that dragons weren’t extinct. And it had also been two years since the remaining dragons had declared war on the rest of the world.

All the fairytales about knights slaying dragons were true. Which meant that all the stories of brave adventurers plundering nests and slaying their young were also true. Then the old stories of the kings who built their cities with forges fueled by dragon fire were also true. So then the silly rumor that the greatest temples built by man were baptized in the blood of dragons for luck was also true.

And it was found that the human empire was guilty of being bathed in the tears and suffering of dragons for centuries. Until only the survivors who had managed to hide in the quietest corners of the world were left. Seething at the injustice of it all. Weeping as they failed to recover the corpses of their loved ones to mourn properly. As they were all made into armor and weapons. Used as decorations in palaces and sat upon as thrones.

Sakura was serving as arcane advisor for the emperor of a thriving human nation when the war began. It had been a few years since she had last gone to war. Her last deployment had left her with a few battle scars. But it was for other reasons she had chosen to step off the battlefield and to serve in a different capacity.

She had been in the palace when the great dragon had swept in. So large that it had cast a shadow across the entire building. And then with a terrible shriek, it had torn through the stone defenses and ripped the emperor into pieces. She remembered running through the crumbling halls, Temari clutching blindly for her hand through the dust and fire. Temari was screaming for Shikamaru, as if her voice would carry over the shrieks of the dragons swirling above.

The palace collapsed as dragons smashed into the sides and set the parapets ablaze.

Sakura only remembered it in flashes. Stumbling down steps. Crawling in the darkness as stone dust filled her lungs. Finding Shikamaru and some other familiar faces huddled in the dungeons. Temari collapsing. Weeping. Arms thrown around his neck as they held what each thought they had lost.

The only thing she recalled perfectly was the hollowness that expanded in her stomach. Wondering. Wishing that in all this chaos that he was safe too.

Blood began to fill the grooves in the cobblestone. Cities fell first. And then it was the towns and villages. Flame rained down from above to scorch the farmlands. Humans fled from place to place, skin hanging from bone. Clutching their wailing children and what few possessions they had managed to drag with them.

It was Shikamaru who came to her first. Begging her to stay.

She refused at first. Who was qualified to bear such a burden? Certainly not her.

But Temari pleaded. And then Tenten, hobbling on her broken ankle had thrown herself at her feet to beg too.

So Sakura stayed.

They found an abandoned fortress that built down into the earth, rather than up. It was an old thing, filled with spiders and moss. But bit by bit, they cleaned the stones and reinforced the walls. Soon, they had a place they could sit and talk rather than huddling in damp caves.

Word began to spread that there was a safe place. People began to arrive, ragged and half-starved. Some took up the sword. Others were bakers, blacksmiths. Healers arrived in waves as they fled smoking battlefields. Orphans arrived carrying even younger orphans.

Other settlements began to emerge from the ruin. They found ways to trade information and food. Something resembling order began to poke its head out from the ground.

Sakura marveled, not for the first time in her life, at the resiliency of humans.

+++++

It was now two years since the world had ended.

But people continued to live. Stubbornly refusing to collapse against all the death and destruction.

Sakura lifted her head as she heard rain begin to patter against the top of her tent.

Once upon a time, she would have woken to the rain just like this. The weight of his arm over her waist comforting- not smothering. The fingers of his other hand tangling into her hair. She would shuffle closer, pressing herself to the warmth of his long breaths.

He bit her shoulder, softly. Eyes still closed as he took a deep breath.

She remembered him like that. Chose to.

Sakura threw her arm over her face now. Or at least, tried to. Searing pain ripped through her, all the way from her shoulder to the tips of her fingers. When she cried out, she heard a commotion outside.

“Is everything alright?”

She cracked her eyes open in time to see Shikamaru throwing her tent flap open. He carried a sword in one hand. There were soldiers running up behind him.

“I’m fine,” she croaked, rising on her uninjured elbow. But her arm gave out and she collapsed onto her blanket.

“You look worse than you did yesterday,” Shikamaru told her. He ducked under the flap. The soldiers stayed outside. She could see from their shadows that they kept their swords drawn.

“I’m fine,” Sakura insisted, aware that her lie fell flat. As she pulled herself upright again, she felt her arm shaking. She glanced down. Her bed was covered in blood.

“Alright, maybe I’m not,” she amended. Shikamaru was staring at her blood too.

The bleeding didn’t stop. It slowed if she rested enough. But the second she was moving at more than a snail’s pace, it was seeping through her bandages again. It baffled the healers, who insisted that shouldn’t be the case. Stitches corroded overnight. Even the most exotic potions and bindings didn’t stem the flow of blood from her shoulder.

So Sakura bound it as best as she could and let her shoulders and sleeves turn red as she went about her day. There were too many people relying on her for her to sit still for too long.

The attacks continued.

The dragons cut off their sources of food and weapons. Some of the skirmishes, the humans managed to win. But more often than not, the dragons took far more lives with ripping teeth and spouts of flame that broiled people alive in their armor. Many of the soldiers looked green when supper included roasted meat. They pushed away their plates, trying to not to retch at the horribly familiar smell.

They kept a list of the dead and held funerals for those they lost each month. More refugees arrived to fill in those gaps. And Sakura learned their names and their faces, only for their names to end up on the list too.

Loss became obvious. Sorrow became common.

But still, those stubborn little humans continued to cling to hope.

Foolish, in her opinion. But commendable all the same.

She wished she knew how to hope too. But whether she had forgotten how or whether she had never known in the first place was something she wondered when she lay awake at night.

+++++

One evening, armor smoking and her side gushing blood, Sakura stood in the middle of the battlefield.

Shikamaru hated it when she went out with the troops like this.

“You’re a symbol. If you fall, everything else will too,” he sometimes nagged her.

She knew that wasn’t true. Humans were strong that way. Even in the midst of their deepest grieving, they had a way of picking up the pieces and trudging ahead. That was one of the things she loved about people.

The lieutenant who would have led this mission had fallen ill. And she hadn’t trusted the younger, less experienced soldiers to fill his place. So she had donned her armor and led the troops herself.

She didn’t know who betrayed her. Maybe it was a spy. Maybe it was an intercepted letter somewhere. But the dragons lay in wait as they snuck through one of the last safe paths. The first screams of panic as two soldiers went up in flames still lingered now as she swung her staff. She sent missiles of ice to try to pierce the thick hides or to damage their leathery wings. And when the blood ran down her arm and made her staff too slippery to grip properly, she ducked further into the forest to seek cover.

“There’s too many of them. We need to retreat,” one of the soldiers hissed as they took cover behind a tree.

“Have you seen the others?” she asked. Her eyes scanned the trees, but it was too dark to make out anything. She felt sick to her stomach again.

“I saw some of them head for the waterfall. There’s a tunnel we might be able to take underground to the springs,” he answered.

She choked down another breath. Good. There was hope then. That at least some of the soldiers would survive. At least a few names that wouldn’t end up on the list tonight.

“Go after them. Head back home and let the others know that this path isn’t safe anymore,” she urged. There was a rustle. She held her pointer finger up to her lips when the soldier looked ready to protest.

Go, she mouthed again.

When the soldier frowned, she grabbed him by the front of his shirt with a fierce look. She shoved him, mouthing the word again.

He was a good soldier. After a moment of silent protest, he slunk off into the woods. She counted his steps.

1, 2, 3.

When she had given him enough time to move, Sakura exploded out of the trees, making as much sound as possible. It wasn’t difficult to stumble and gasp. The pain in her side was enough on its own, but the wound in her back was excruciating. Her lungs constricted too much but didn’t expand enough. Cackling screeches echoed all around her. She felt her foot step and miss the ground.

She was tumbling down the hill. Twigs and stones smashing into her body, her face. The world spun over and over again. By the time she was at the bottom of the hill, she couldn’t tell whether she was staring up at a perfectly dark sky or down at the ground. By the time footsteps crunched toward her, she realized that she was sobbing in pain.

“Found her! Over here!”

There were more shouts that echoed through the woods. More footsteps approached.

Sakura winced when someone grabbed her by the hair and jerked her neck back. A voice hissed close to her ear.

“And here’s the little human-lover. Call him over. He’ll want to slit her traitor throat himself.”

Someone dug their foot into the wound on her side. She screamed. There was more laughter.

The pain and exhaustion overwhelmed her. Tears running down her face, she tried to remember why she was here. The soldiers had to escape. They needed enough time to run. Just a little more. Just hang on a little more until-

“What’s going on here?” A cool voice broke into the conversation. Someone had just been boasting about skinning her prize. They stopped mid-sentence.

A single set of footsteps drew closer. Sakura whimpered as the hand on her hair tightened.

“Oh, there you are, Sir. We’ve found her!”

The nausea returned as she heard a very familiar sigh.

“I said to capture her alive. Not to drag her like an animal.”

She grunted as the hand released her and she fell face-first back into the mud. The footsteps drew even closer. There was a long moment of silence.

The fingers that touched her face felt rough. But they were exceedingly gentle as he pulled her away from the ground. A strangled cry of agony gurgled up her throat as the rest of her body moved to follow.

His voice was too close. Almost against her cheek as he murmured. “Still alive after all this? You never cease to amaze me.” There was no cruelty in his tone. Only genuine admiration. It made her hate him a little more.

“Gather what supplies you can and return to the base. I’ll handle this,” he then barked.

Sakura couldn’t understand what the others said in response. Because his hand skimmed over her injured shoulder and another scream of pain burst from her. With more force than she had even thought her body capable of making.

“….What… is this.” It should have been a question, but his tone stayed flat.

A sob slipped through her lips when he touched the wound again.

“This… why do you have this?” he muttered.

She didn’t have the energy to answer him. She slumped forward. Her forehead landing against some part of him. She squinted her eyes shut. Willing for all of this to end quickly.

“Don’t die on me yet, my love. It seems I still have some questions for you,” he sighed as she felt her consciousness begin to drift.

And then, mercifully, darkness.

+++++

“….I thought I said I didn’t want to be disturbed.”

“Apologies, Sir. We’ve received word from the western armies.”

“Summarize it.”

“They’ve suffered great losses. The Commander requests to withdraw his troops to take some time to recover.”

There was a long exhale. And then the sound of a quill scratching along paper.

“Permission granted. If we don’t hear back from the eastern front in the next few days, send some soldiers to investigate.”

“Yes, Sir.”

A heavy door slammed shut. There was another sigh before footsteps tapped her way.

Sunlight fell on her cheek. She could feel the warmth. Papers rustled someone near her. When she felt the hand touch her cheek, she kept her eyes shut.

“Don’t touch me,” she warned.

“You’re welcome for keeping you alive through the night. It was festering,” he told her.

Sakura opened her eyes to glare at him.

“So now that I’ve done you a favor, why don’t you do me one? Tell me how you got that wound in the first place,” Madara commanded.

Her lip pulled back in a snarl.

He smiled back with teeth just as sharp.

+++++

It had been two years since the world ended and Madara had left her side. One day, he was matching each step, rucksack over his shoulder as he wandered ruined libraries and thumbed through crumbling books with her.

They were part of an expedition to find the lost histories of some distant ancestor for some noble with too much money. If this noble could prove his ties to this figure, it would have given him the right to usurp a sizable territory. It wasn’t a cause Sakura particularly cared for. Land squabbles were uninteresting to her. But knowledge was not.

Temari and Shikamaru had been the ones to assemble the expedition. And they had only known to ask for Sakura when Tenten had been hired as muscle and recommended a much-needed scholar for their job.

Madara was the expert the noble had insisted join them on the expedition.

He looked to be twice her age. He had a perpetual look of disdain on his face and criticized every other book he read.

Sakura had fallen head over heels for him.

For his careless smirks. The way he held a book in his hands. The way he could glance up at the stars once and know where they were.

With him, there were no bad questions. No silly suspicions. When she spoke, he soaked in her every word as if they were sacred texts from the most holy scriptures. He made her feel like he had never spoken to anyone so fascinating in his life before.

Which was why she had felt safe, curled up in his arms at night. The autumn chill just strong enough to give her an excuse to snuggle a little closer. When she peered up into his face, he was smiling. She rubbed her knuckles across his stubble. The way he closed his eyes made her feel like it would be alright if she told him.

“I’m a dragon.”

“That’s not a reference I understand. Is that from a poem?” he responded. The warmth in his voice made her chest ache a little.

“Madara.”

His eyes opened. Searching her face for something.

“I’ve never told anyone this before,” she added, voice barely above a whisper.

His hand emerged from the covers to cup her cheek. And then he moved his other arm to wrap it around her. Drawing her closer.

“Tell me from the start, my love. I’m listening,” he assured her. The way he said that made her brave.

They spent the entire night that way. Madara asking questions here and there, but mostly listening. And her finally telling him the truth of her childhood spent frolicking in treetops. Learning to fly from her father and learning to hunt from her mother. Keeping far away from humans. Moving their nest as soon as they heard any commotion larger than the dash of a deer through the brush.

“Can you turn into one?” She remembered him asking that. Eyes glittering with excitement.

“I could. But I’d break the tent.”

She remembered his laugh. Wondered how someone could laugh handsomely. But he did.

She was thrilled at how he accepted even this strange part about her. She recalled feeling so glad that she had chosen to trust him as she fell asleep in his arms.

A few months later, he was gone.

When the dragons appeared and razed the human cities, Sakura had spent every night hoping that he was somewhere safe.

That was, until reports came in of the ancient dragon who led the flying armies.

When she first learned the news, all eyes fell on Sakura in the strategy tent. In those early days, their forces were small. But that meant that everyone knew her. Knew about her missing lover. The scholar who could make her smile using an atlas.

Sakura stumbled outside the tent and vomitted at the news.

He had lied to her.

She had trusted him with her biggest secret.

And in exchange, he had lied to her. And then abandoned her.

Which was why, after all these months of war. Watching his troops destroy the humans and smash their lives to pieces, she snarled at him when he tried to touch her hair.

She dragged herself into a sitting position, even as the room spun.

“Careful, love. You’ll hurt yourself,” Madara was immediately fretting. When he reached for her again, she rebuked him with a snap of her teeth.

+++++

Part one << Part two >> Part three

#fanfiction #tragedy #angst angst angst #i recently replayed DA:I and i am in solavellan hell #so i got to thinking about what it would be like if your enemy wasn't just your enemy #fantasy AU #madasaku

[silverfootstepswrites]

Eden: TWIST [1]

ZERO / BLEACH / TWIST (here) / REVERSE / DYE / RED

I understood why she did it. At that moment I knew why people tagged graffiti on the walls of neat little houses and scratched the paint on new cars and beat up well-tended children. It was only natural to want to destroy something you could never have. -Janet Fitch

++++

Magic trembled in the air. Like the wings of a butterfly first emerging from a cocoon. Delicate. Unsure. It filled Sakura’s lungs as naturally as air did. 

She had managed to get a couple hours of sleep after waking up from that jarring nightmare. She wasn’t even sure whether she had actually stumbled into Shisui’s dream until she woke up to a text from him at dawn. 

That was weird.

She rubbed her eyes as she squinted at the too-bright words. She typed a response to him before she tossed the phone onto her bed somewhere. 

Super weird. Idk what that was.

As she lay on her stomach, covers scrunched against her body, she tried to make sense of her hectic night. She had always learned that dream walking only occurred when people in close physical proximity. With enough years of practice, it was possible to extend that range. But even Madara was only able to visit dreams within a few blocks of his house. Shisui lived halfway across the city. She almost woke Madara to pick his brain, but she felt bad interrupting his sleep two times in one day.  

She got out of bed anyway. She grabbed a sweater off the chair in her room that always seemed to accumulate clothes. Pulling her arms through the sleeves, she tiptoed across the cool floor. The door to Madara’s room was ajar. She could see the lump his body made. His back rose and fell with each of his quiet snores. 

Sakura hesitated in the doorway of Madara’s bedroom. 

He seemed so much smaller than she first remembered when he’d picked her up from the Senju institute all those years ago. 

She suddenly recalled that awful nightmare. How he hadn’t hesitated to wrap his body around hers. Holding her tight in the face of death.

And then she paused to think.

Hadn’t there been another nightmare before that one? Or was that all part of the same dream?

She rubbed the heel of her hand against her temple. All her thoughts felt tangled up and it was too early in the morning to try to deal with this mess. 

Sakura conjured a shield into her palm. She walked into Madara’s room. When she touched the tip of her finger to his shoulder, the shield slipped from her palm and spread across the bed instead. It was a lightweight charm. It would dissolve into nothingness as soon as Madara rose from the bed. But it was something to protect him- especially from sharp claws and teeth. 

She eyed the bottom drawer of his nightstand where he kept the scrying bones she liked so much. He complained every once in a while that she had her own. A really expensive set, actually.  They were made from the bones of a well-respected illusionist- harvested with permission, of course. 

The more powerful the caster, the more powerful the scrying bones. There was still a black market for acquiring scrying bones through more questionable means. She had the certificate that assured her that these bones had been purchased through legal channels only. It sat in one of her drawers, sandwiched between the other papers that were too important to throw out but not important enough to sort through.

Her scrying bones worked fine. 

But something about the set Madara kept in that drawer just… sang to her. Divination had always been one of her strengths. But the first time she had used this particular set of bones, the clarity of the mumurs startled her. Sometimes, it almost felt like it was a person whispering right in her ear. 

Sakura took a step away. 

The bones weren’t going anywhere. She could always consult them another time. She decided to let Madara sleep some more.

As she dressed, Sakura conjured some paper and a pen. She dictated the words as she pulled on jeans and tied her hair. She told Madara that she was going to run some errands. That she would head to the shop right after. And then… hesitated. 

She had her date scheduled that night. She had dreamt about it. 

A cute guy with a shy smile. Soft-spoken and fumbling. 

And then his white hand, unmoving as he spilled blood across the fine floor of the library. 

She had read enough and learned enough to know that there was some link between dreams and divination. Countless magic users and scholars had devoted their lives to untangling the relationship between the two. There were seminars offered at the Senju Institute where experts came to lecture about the link, that basically said, “I don’t know, but there’s something there.” 

Avoiding him the last time hadn’t ended up well. Maybe things could change if she tried the opposite. 

“Remember that I’m going on a date tonight. We were in the same chem class last year. I’ll text you to check in. Won’t stay out late,” Sakura declared. She watched the pen jot down the words in perfect imitation of her handwriting. It hovered over the paper. Waiting as it sensed her hesitation. 

“…Love you,” she added,” watching the pen write out those words too. 

Sakura glanced the message over. With a flick of her hand, she sent the paper flying down the stairs. It would land on the kitchen table. Right at the spot where Madara usually sat. 

She took the subway to Shisui’s apartment. She passed by a bakery on her way to the station. The smell of something buttery caught her attention. She popped in to buy a couple croissants, still a little warm as the baker levitated them and deposited them into a waxed paper bag. Sakura tucked the bag into her hoodie as she took the stairs down to the tracks. 

It didn’t take long for the train to come screeching along the tracks. She got into one of the cars. It was busy. Not much room to sit. So she stood, conjuring a spectral hand to grab on to one of the poles to keep balance. Madara had taught her the trick a long time ago. He looked revolted the first time he’d seen her reaching for one of the straps. 

“Humans are filthy,” he had warned her. 

And she remembered laughing at his wording. 

“We’re human too,” she pointed out. But always eager to learn, she had watched him conjure the translucent hand. And by the time they arrived at their destination, she had managed to make one too. 

All these years later, she was still doing it the same way. It was funny how little moments like that stuck. It was as if Madara had shared a little part of himself that then became part of her before she even realized. 

An old man sitting directly in front of her nodded off. His chin drooped toward his chest. On his lap sat a canvas tote. It wriggled a little. And then a shiny black nose sniffed its way out. Beside him sat a woman reading a book. She turned the pages with flicks of her finger and a scattering of magic dust as she went. 

Standing a little ways away from her were two girls carrying backpacks. They were wearing the uniform of the Senju Institute- which hadn’t changed at all since she had once dormed there. As it turned out, there were plenty of students who commuted to the school. The ones whose parents hadn’t abandoned them, probably. 

Sakura couldn’t help but overhear their conversation. They were fussing over the ribbon on the uniform, which was supposed to be tied in a specific way. Most of the teachers didn’t really care as long as it was where it was supposed to be. But there was the occasional hard ass who would make a fuss about the direction of the knot or similar nonsense. One of them struggled to fold the ribbon into the right shapes. The other cursed as she tried to look up directions on her phone. 

“Hey,” Sakura called. 

Several eyes fell on her. But Sakura waited until the girls turned around to look at her. She gestured toward the ribbon. Waited until the girls nodded. 

With a twist of her hand, Sakura levitated the ribbon and tucked it under the collar of the girl’s shirt. She wiggled her fingers in a pattern she had often watched her classmates and roommate practice many years ago. The ribbon tied itself in the perfect shape. Her hand fell to her side. 

“There you go.”

“Thanks!” the girl chirruped. She tried to offer Sakura one of her granola bars as thanks but Sakura just smiled and waved the offer away. 

As Sakura got off at her stop, she spotted the two girls waving at her. She didn’t have time to return the gesture as the train pulled out of the station and sped off down the tunnel. Onwards to the next place in this big city. 

She had been to Shisui’s place a few times before. Enough to remember that the elevators took forever and that it was faster just to walk up the stairs. She knocked on the door, glancing around the empty hall as she waited. When there was no response, Sakura knocked again. 

“Coming, coming. Man, what the heck? It’s too early for this,” she heard him grumbling as he fumbled with locks and the knob. When he cracked the door open, he scowled.

“It’s 8.”

“It’s 8:27,” Sakura corrected as she pushed past him, walking right into his apartment. 

Rubbing his eyes, Shisui closed the door behind her. He yawned as he swept his hand through the air. The coffee maker gurgled as he conjured water into one compartment. One of the cabinets opened and the bright yellow lid on a squat can popped open. A scoop appeared from thin air to dip into the grounds. Turning his back on this orchestra of coffee-making, Shisui leaned against the counter. He scratched his stubble.

“Okay. What’s going on? You get into some trouble you can’t tell Uncle about?” he asked. He started when Sakura crossed the cramped kitchen to throw her arms around him. 

“Woah! What’s up with you?” he demanded. But he hugged her back. Shisui might have been the only Uchiha in history who was a fan of physical affection. She squeezed him a little harder. Laughing, Shisui patted her back. But when she didn’t laugh in return, Shisui’s laugh faded. 

“Don’t go anywhere,” she said. 

“Huh?”

“Don’t plan any trips for a while, Shi. You can’t go,” she pleaded, looking up at him. 

He sighed. Thumped her on the back a couple times. “What’re you talking about? Did you have a nightmare again?”

“You’re planning on observing Venus. It’s a 3 day trip,” Sakura recited. She stared into his eyes hard.

An odd look crossed Shisui’s face.

“I haven’t told anyone about that.”

At first, Shisui smiled. Like he was waiting for her to admit that it was a joke. But as her stare didn’t waver, his smile faded. 

“Come on. It’ll be quick. When I get back, we’ll go to that Cuban place you love so much. On me, okay?”

Sakura shuddered. He had said those words to her once before. 

He hadn’t kept that promise at all.

“I think I- no. I’m sure. I divined something. If you go on that trip, you’ll die, Shi,” Sakura insisted, grabbing the front of his sleep-rumpled shirt. When Shisui’s moved away from her, she shook him a little. 

The expressions on Shisui’s face shifted too fast for her to understand. But he ended up hissing out a breath through his teeth. Shaking his head, he finally met her gaze again. 

“Fine. I’ll stay put,” he conceded.

Relief rushed through Sakura. In fact, she was so elated that her knees buckled. Shisui’s eyes widened as he reached out to grab her. They ended up falling to the kitchen floor. Sakura burst into laughter. And after a beat, Shisui did too. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Shisui scolded between chuckles. 

Once the coffee finished brewing, they had the croissants for breakfast. They sat right there on the floor, leaving the mugs on the linoleum tile beside them. 

Shisui scrutinized her as he watched her take a bite. 

“You gonna ask Uncle about last night?”

Sakura blinked, brushing crumbs away from her mouth with the back of her wrist. For a second, she had forgotten how she had accidentally barged into Shisui’s dream. It had been forgotten in the chaos of trying to get Shisui to stay. 

When she didn’t respond, Shisui sighed.

“Magic is weird.”

“Seriously.”

“You got any plans for today?”

“Yeah. I’m going on a date, I think.”

“Cool. Need a ride to the shop?”

“Please.”

It was a normal day at the dream shop. Itachi stopped in the door when he spotted her standing at the counter with Shisui. 

“Why are you so early?” he demanded as he unzipped his coat. He tossed it into the air. An enchantment caught it and deposited it onto the coat rack in the corner. 

Shisui tapped a pen against the counter. 

“We had breakfast together,” he interrupted himself with a big yawn. He blinked a few times. He had mentioned over an extra cup of coffee that he hadn’t been sleeping so well lately. Even before she had barged in. Sakura made a mental note to brew him a good sleeping draught. Something to help him get some rest uninterrupted by complicated dreams. All she had to do was throw a handful of lavender and chamomile into a cauldron with some other ingredients. 

Itachi just nodded. He headed upstairs to get ready for his morning appointment. Shisui scanned through the appointment book, cheek in his hand as he slouched against the counter. Sakura ducked into the back room to check on their supply of potions. 

Sakura leaned against the door as she looked around the room. Plenty of bottled dreams swirled around in their glass jars. Some thrummed with a particular resonance; that let her know that those were dreams she had harvested. As he gaze fell on the cabinet to the left, she had a strange feeling. She reached out for the handle. 

Hesitated.

She suspected that when she opened the cabinet, there would be four bottles of extra strength soothing potion. Under that would be a single bottle of children’s sleeping draught.

Sakura held her breath as she grasped the handle. When she pulled the door open, she felt some part of her sink toward her gut. 

She was right. 

Just like she had seen in her strange dream the night before. 

Just like how she knew Shisui’s brief trip to see the stars would go terribly wrong. 

Just like how some part of her knew that her dream wasn’t really a dream at all. 

She jolted when she heard the front door to the shop open and close. Sasuke’s boots creaked across the floor. 

Sakura mouthed the words before she heard them.

“You’re late.”

“Yeah, sorry. My train was delayed. Is Sakura here?”

“In the back.”

Sakura slumped against the cabinet as she realized that she had known every word of that short conversation. She scrambled to hide her shock when she heard the door creak open behind her. 

“Hey.”

She put a smile on her face as she turned to greet Sasuke. “Hey!”

Sasuke gripped the doorknob as he leaned into the back room. He glanced around. 

“Need any help?”

Sakura shook her head, smiling a little harder. “I got it.”

Sasuke gave a slow nod, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek. 

“Cool. You want coffee?” 

Sakura nodded. 

Sasuke closed the door without saying anything else. 

That night, Sakura messaged Madara to let him know that she had left the shop, Sasuke would be closing up, and not to wait up for her.

Izuna brought jerk chicken. I’ll pack leftovers for your lunch tomorrow, Madara replied.

Sakura sent him a series of purple hearts in response.

The date went just as she had expected. Gaara fumbled and turned red as he talked about his job. His shy looks were just as endearing the second time around. She told him again that his devotion to his job was cool. He looked like she had just told him that he had won the lottery. 

As they stood on the sidewalk waiting for her driver to arrive, Sakura stuck her hands in her pockets. She heard him shuffle his feet.

“Uh… so… can I see you again?” he asked.

Sakura looked down at her feet. She was a little afraid to see his face. Afraid she would blurt something out without thinking. 

“I’d like that,” she answered.

When the black car pulled up, Gaara opened the door for her. He waited for her to get into the back seat before he closed the door. And then he hesitated, fingers resting on the handle. Sakura opened the window. 

“Can you text me to let me know you got home okay?” he requested.

“I will,” she promised. As she rolled up the window, his fingers slipped off the door. 

Sakura listed out her address to the driver before she leaned back in her seat. She caught the driver glancing at her in the rearview mirror.

“Good date?” he asked.

“Yeah,” answered Sakura, unsmiling. She could see the driver’s forehead wrinkle in the mirror.

She felt bad. For lots of reasons. But in this particular instance for thinking that Gaara had something to do with her finding Madara covered in blood on New Year’s Eve. Rubbing her temples, Sakura stared down at her lap.

Gaara was connected to the strange flow of her dream. Keeping him far from her hadn’t severed that connection. So it was obviously something else that led to him ending up dead on the floor of her library. Not a lot of this situation made sense, but one thing she was certain of was that figuring out what that connection was had to be important. 

Even though she had told Madara not to wait up, he was sitting at the kitchen table when she got home. Not that that surprised her. 

She tossed her coat in the air. One of Madara’s spells caught it and draped it over a hanger. Just like the one that gathered her discarded shoes and slipped them into an empty spot on the shelf. She climbed the steps, rubbing her hands through her hair.

“Hi, Papa,” she greeted him as she walked into the kitchen. He raised his eyebrows and nodded before he returned his attention to his book. Sakura scrubbed her hands clean in the sink. The smell of the fruity soap filled the room. She rubbed her hands on a kitchen towel before she took a seat next to Madara at the round table.

“How’d it go?” questioned Madara. He slipped a bookmark between the pages before he shut the cover.

“Pretty good. He seems nice,” Sakura said right away. Madara pulled his glasses down, hooking them into the front of his shirt.

“Are you going to see him again?” He tried to keep his tone casual, but Sakura wasn’t fooled. She tilted her head to one side, as if still considering. 

“Yeah, I think so.” She kept her answer vague. And then her eyes fell on the book sitting on the table. 

“New research?”

“Yeah. Dry as hell,” he huffed. He tapped his fingers on the cover a few times. It was an old book- bound with a hint of enchantment to hold everything together. 

“What’s it about?” She hadn’t thought to ask him about it in her dream. 

“Magical prosthetics and casting compatibility,” Madara answered without hesitation. He was never stingy about sharing with her- especially not with knowledge. 

“So whether casters can channel magic through prosthetic limbs?” Sakura guessed. 

Madara’s mouth twisted. “Sort of. Also whether those prosthetics can be enchanted to respond better to certain types of magic.”

Sakura wrinkled her nose. “Sounds complicated.”

“It is,” Madara agreed. Yawning, he got out of his chair, feet of the chair squeaking against the tile. 

“I need coffee. You want some?” he called over his shoulder. 

Sakura considered. Then she shook her head. 

“No thanks. I think I’m gonna go to bed,” she decided. She gathered her purse and her phone.

Madara, about to reach for a second mug, stopped. He lowered his hand, leaning it against the counter instead.

“Night,” she greeted him, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze as she walked past. 

“Good night, Sakura,” he replied.

#eden #fanfiction #haruno sakura #Modern Magic!AU #uchiha madara #uchiha itachi #uchiha shisui #uchiha sasuke #beware of the dreams that linger

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Helloo just wanted to say I immensely enjoyed reading eden the dynamic between Sakura and Madara is so adorable and i love the mystery behind the story can’t wait for the new chapter !!! Also I hope your doing well and staying safe ❤️❤️❤️

Thank you! I love writing romance, but sometimes I want to write about family dynamics too. This past school year has kicked my ass, but now that summer break is on the horizon, I think I'll finally have the time and energy to write again.

#asks #Anonymous

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oh boy am i excited about your new series!!! i always look forward to receiving notifs when you post 😳

Thank you, anon! (I haven't checked my inbox in forever so sorry for the late response.) I've always loved the idea of a modern magic AU! Makes me wish I could just magic my way out of everything lately lol

#asks #Anonymous

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Eden: BLEACH [4]

ZERO / BLEACH (here) / TWIST / REVERSE / DYE / RED

++++

The only way to take sorrow out of death is to take love out of life.

-Russell M. Nelson

++++

Sakura stood at the kitchen sink. Soapy water dripped from her hands as she stared out the window.

“What’s wrong?”

When she turned, Madara was in the doorway, his phone in his hand. His glasses perched on top of his head. He was staring at her. And then he squinted.

“Did you get any sleep last night?”

“A little,” she mumbled. Which was kind of true. She didn’t want to see the dream world with Shisui’s darkened door. Didn’t want to know if Itachi’s door had gone dark too. So she napped in short intervals. An alarm would go off in time to wake her before she could slip into a full dream. It was an exhausting process, but it was better than not sleeping at all.

Madara clucked his tongue at her.

“Move. I’ll do it,” he ordered. Rolling his sleeves up to his elbow, he took her place at the sink to finish washing the dishes. Sakura leaned her hip against the counter, staring out the window again.

“The shield’s holding just fine, kid. You have to stop worrying,” Madara assured her, even though she hadn’t said anything.

She could see the way the light refracted through the shield. It even shimmered a little when the rays of light angled through it perfectly. She knew that Madara was right. The wards around the house were strong. They even topped off the spell each night before bed. That didn’t make her feel much better though.

Sasuke stumbled down the stairs a little while later. Rubbing a hand through his unruly hair, he squinted at the sunlight streaming in through the window.

“Why are you washing those by hand?” he mumbled. He yawned, stretching his arms above his head.

Madara looked down at the soapy water. And then over at Sakura, whose hands were still covered in bubbles. He shrugged.

“Why not?” was all he said as he continued washing.

++++

Ino called a few days before the new year.

“Are you doing okay?”

Sakura looked down at her feet as she took in the question.

“Well…no. Not so great, Ino,” Sakura confessed.

She heard Ino sigh. “Sorry. That was a dumb question. Of course you’re not okay.”

Sakura smiled a little. “That’s okay. Thanks for asking anyway.”

They chatted about a few things. Ino updated her on some of the gossip she had missed. Not that either of them thought that any of those silly little things mattered. But it was nice to pretend, even for just a few minutes, that they did.

There was a long moment. And then Ino sighed.

“I miss you,” she said.

“Yeah. Miss you too,” replied Sakura.

“So I was thinking… I know you’re not cool with meeting outside. How about I come over instead?”

Sakura glanced up at the ceiling. She could see the faint shimmer of the shield charm that encompassed the house. If it was just for a moment, and with Madara’s help, she could thin the barrier just enough to let someone pass through.

“I’ll bring something yummy,” Ino added, trying to keep her voice light.

Sakura wasn’t sure when her mouth moved whether she wanted to smile or to cry. Hand pressed to her cheek, she nodded. Not that Ino could see.

“Yeah. Let’s do that, Ino.”

“Really? Okay!” There was thumping and rustling. Ino had probably rolled off her bed to begin packing already.

Madara was right behind Sakura when Ino arrived a few days later. His hand pressed to her shoulder. In a comforting way.

“Breathe,” he reminded her.

So she did.

The edge of the barrier peeled back just enough for Ino to slip in across the threshold. Then it snapped back in place. Sakura ran her hands along the edges, just to make sure there were no leaks. Madara flicked a handful of sparks at it. They bounced back, scattering like thrown confetti.

“Airtight. Nice work,” Madara commended, squeezing her shoulder. He lifted a hand in greeting to Ino before he made his way up the stairs towards his room.

Ino threw her arms around Sakura’s neck.

“Oh my gosh. How are you?” she squealed, pulling Sakura close. Rocking her back and forth.

“I tried to get in touch with Naruto to ask if he wanted to come. He never answered my texts,” Ino complained.

“Weird. He always answers his texts,” Sakura replied.

“I know, right? I’ll hunt him down later. He’s probably marathoning The Lord of the Rings again or something,” sighed Ino. Laughing, Sakura hugged her a little tighter. It was so nice to see Ino. It almost felt like things were going to be alright.

Ino brought an insane amount of takeout. The smell of cilantro and spice filled the house as they reheated the curry puffs and pad thai. They poured wine and chattered nonstop as they plated the food. Even Sasuke cracked a smile or two. For a little while, they could eat and drink and pretend that everything was normal again.

Madara shooed them out of the kitchen before anyone could lift a finger to do dishes. So they retreated to Sakura’s room to choose a movie. They cracked open another bottle of wine. Sakura rolled her eyes as Sasuke opened a bag of chips. And he rolled his eyes when she dug her hand into the bag a second later.

They dozed off not too long after the movie started.

Sakura woke, her cheek pressed to her shoulder. Sasuke’s foot was on top of her shin. His mouth hung open as he slept. Ino was passed out too, her head resting on the arm of the sofa.

Wiping the line of drool from the corner of her mouth, Sakura glanced around the room. The screen was stuck at the end of the credits, flashing suggestions for the next movie they could watch. Sakura patted around until her fingers closed around the hard rectangle of her phone.

She squinted.

It was just a little after 10. She sat in a daze, staring around the darkened room. As she looked down at her phone again, the numbers started to blur into each other.

And then it hit her.

Why she had jerked awake in the first place.

What night it was.

It all flooded back to her.

Madara pale and motionless on the floor of his bedroom. Blood painting the floorboards. The scream that ripped from her mouth as she tried to make sense of it all.

She stepped on Sasuke’s ankle as she rushed to her feet.

“Ow! What the hell!” she heard Sasuke complain. And Ino muttered something too as she roused. Sakura didn’t have time to explain to them as she scrambled out into the hallway.

“Papa,” she called. Her hand hovered near the knob. Waited for his voice to respond. She gripped it, twisting and pushing the door open.

The inside of Madara’s bedroom was dark. Everything was in its proper place. She had snuck in here countless times to rummage through his closet. She had stolen nearly all of his old band t-shirts that way. And so she was familiar with the way he made his bed. The way he angled his blinds a certain way to keep the sun out in the morning.

She reached out with threads of magic to feel for him in the house. They swept down the stairs, flinging to the far corners of the floor below.

Nothing.

“Papa!” Sakura yelled, louder this time. As she left Madara’s room, she bumped into Sasuke in the hall. Ino stood in the doorway of her room, bleary-eyed and rubbing the side of her face.

“Sakura, what’s wrong?” Ino asked. Sakura didn’t answer her as she hurried down the stairs. She reached out with her magic again. But this time it cast in tangled waves, just as disarrayed as her mind as she began to panic.

“This isn’t funny. Stop hiding,” Sakura said out loud as she rushed into the kitchen. Nothing. A cup sat in the sink. She moved on to the next room. And the next.

When she reached the door that led down into the library, she felt a flicker of something familiar. She touched the knob. It zapped her hand away with a sting. Frowning, she reached for it again. It stung her even harder.

She summoned energy to her palm, coating it. She grasped the knob carefully. The barrier held for a second. And then her hand jerked back again as it flooded with a sharp pain.

This wasn’t a spell she remembered Madara teaching her. It was a barrier. But it was also strange. The structure of the magical bonds was something she had never seen before.

As tears of panic began to fill her eyes, Sakura’s fingers moved. She felt her pointer and middle finger reaching out. They hooked around nothing. And when they tugged together, she felt something snap. The stinging disappeared along with the unusual barrier. And when she turned the knob, this time the door to the library opened as it should have.

Sakura descended the spiraling stairs down to the second floor of the library. The smell of old paper and leather should have been comforting. Instead, it was all she could do to stop herself from vomiting as her stomach twisted into knots.

Her bare feet didn’t make much sound as she stepped into the library. Which was why as she moved around the the raised platform, she noticed something odd. Actually, she heard it first. An odd noise that seemed to resonate through the floors, vibrating up through the soles of her feet. It was less of a noise and more of a sensation.

And as she turned, she almost wondered whether she had gone through a portal to some other house. On the first floor were more bookcases, along with a few tables and chairs that they used when they didn’t feel like bringing the books upstairs with them. But all of those tables and chairs had been pushed to the wall, as if with a wave of force magic. And one of the large shelves was shoved to one side, revealing a small room she had never seen before. She could see a cauldron, as well as the twinkle of arcane objects tucked away inside.

Then she found the source of the sound. A magic circle glowed on the floor. The white symbols buzzed with energy. She squinted to try to read them from this awkward angle. This had never been her forte, even in school. She recognized some of the runes at the edge. It looked like this particular circle had something to do with restoration or protection.

Sakura took a few steps forward, ready to call out for Madara.

She froze when more of the magic circle came into view. A dark pool of liquid spread from the opposite edge. A foot. Then a leg. A person sprawled across those glowing white lines.

For a second, her heart leapt into her throat. But when she realized that the hair was red and not black, she couldn’t help but feel a little relieved.

“Wait… Gaara?” she realized as she stared at the unmoving body.

“How did you get in here?”

Sakura jumped as Madara’s voice bounced against the shiny floors and up to her. She found him standing not too far from the body. His right hand looked almost like he had dipped it in a bucket of crimson paint. He stared up at her, just his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

“You knew this guy?”

“Did you kill him, Papa?”

They were both asking questions with obvious answers.

“I…” Madara hesitated. He then dragged his left hand through his hair. Glancing down at the body, he nodded. “It had to be done. Don’t be scared. You’re safe now,” he then added.

Sakura tried to swallow, but there was a lump in her throat.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” she squeezed out, tears filling her eyes.

Madara lifted his chin again. He held a hand up. “I’ll explain after I clean up. Just… stay there.”

Sakura opened her mouth to protest. But all the hairs on her arms and neck rose. She could feel a crackle of energy rip through part of the shield that encased the house. She knew Madara could feel it too because he swiveled in the direction of the disturbance.

A shape shimmered just outside one of the windows. And then, with a horrible screech, something smashed in through the glass. Teeth bared. Claws slashing. Headed right for her face.

Sakura swept her hand out in front of her. A shield bubbled up to block the claws that would have torn through her. As the snarling creature bashed against the clear shield, Sakura realized that it was a familiar face.

“Naruto!”

Spittle foamed up at the corners of his mouth as he slashed at the shield again. He swung one more time. A crack appeared at the edge of the shield. When he hit it a third time, the shield shattered under the impact. Sakura barely had enough time to throw up another shield. She twisted her head around to look toward Madara.

“Papa!”

He held his hands up, motioning for her to hurry down to him.

Sakura cast another look back at Naruto. He screeched, digging into the smooth surface of the shield with his nails. Blood dribbled from a cut on his shoulder. When he caught her staring, he howled.

She skirted past him and ran down the stairs as fast as she could. She ran right into Madara’s arms.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she breathed.

“Good.”

Sakura twisted in his arms just in time to see Naruto tear through her second shield. Madara raised his left arm, hand steady. He aimed a blast of fire right at Naruto’s head. A spout of fire erupted from his mouth, deflecting the shot.

“Papa, that looks just like Shisui’s,” Sakura whispered. She gripped the arm Madara still had wrapped around her. “Naruto’s a wind type. Why….”

She trailed off. That wasn’t a question she really wanted an answer to. And it wasn’t even like Madara would have had a chance to answer anyway. Naruto leapt from the top of the stairs, his clawed fingers extended.

Sakura conjured up a bigger shield. It manifested as a bubble that wrapped around the both of them. Another jet of fire from Naruto’s mouth ripped through it.

Tendrils of purple fire rose from Madara’s palms. They jabbed out at Naruto, snapping at his hands and his bare feet. As Naruto dodged out of the way, Sakura extended her hand, pointing up toward the door.

“Sasuke. Ino. Help!” Her voice traveled up her shoulder, shooting out from her finger. It seeped up to the doorway, whipping out towards the rest of the house. Her attention jerked back to Naruto when she heard Madara swear.

“Little fucker’s stronger than he looks.”

Madara released her and conjured more of the dark purple fire to both his hands. He fended off Naruto’s attacks just long enough for Sasuke and Ino to show up in the doorway. He swore again when one of Naruto’s claws caught him in the shoulder.

“Papa!”

“I’m fine. I’m fine,” Madara reassured her as blood bubbled up from the tear in his shirt.

Sakura swept another shield around them. She strained to keep the threads of magic woven together as Naruto slashed at it over and over again. His attacks bounced off the glittering surface of the forcefield several times before he let out a shriek of frustration that sent spittle flying from his lips.

“What the fuck!” Ino exclaimed. “Is that Naruto?”

Naruto’s head whipped around at the sound of her voice. A strange grin pulled at his dripping mouth. He seemed to calculate, looking between Sakura and Ino. And then he crawled up the stairs, advancing on Ino instead.

Sakura’s right hand grasped at the air. She threw a shield out to cover Ino a second too late. Ino’s arm swung up, water forming into a whip from her wrist. But that was too late too. Naruto’s sharpened fingers pierced through her chest. Sakura had to fight back the urge to vomit as she watched Ino slump to the floor like rag doll.

“Ino!” she heard Sasuke shout. Electricity crackled at his fingertips. When he swiped at Naruto, more fire poured from Naruto’s grinning mouth. Sasuke jumped back to dodge the heat. He clenched his teeth together.

“That’s… Shisui’s…” he realized too.

Naruto’s grin widened.

A strange voice rumbled up his throat.

“I ate him.”

“What did he say?” Sakura breathed. She felt Madara’s arm tighten around her and she knew she hadn’t misheard.

Sasuke’s face twisted. “Where’s Shisui?” he demanded.

Naruto’s smile stretched even wider. Until his mouth just looked like a cut across his face. His teeth gleamed too bright, reflecting the blue sparks jumping from Sasuke’s hand.

“He was crunchy, but tasty. You look tasty too,” Naruto croaked.

“Sasuke! No!” Sakura called.

It was too late. Sasuke was screaming. Tears dripped down his cheeks as lightning erupted from both his palms. The electricity sparked up his arms as he lunged at Naruto.

Things moved too quickly for her to see clearly. But she didn’t really need to know all the details when Sasuke let out an agonized shriek. Madara suddenly threw his arms around her, pressing her face to his chest.

“Don’t look,” he hissed as she began to hear a grisly tear and snap. Her pulse thundered in her ears as she listening to teeth gnashing together. Or maybe that was the sound of Madara’s heart.

“Papa, is he…?”

“Don’t look,” was all Madara repeated.

Her whole body was shaking.

“Oh shit,” Madara suddenly said. She lifted her chin to stare up at him. And just as she did, something smashed into the side of her shield. She could feel the strands of the barrier twisting and ripping apart. Something scratched at her back. Madara pulled her away from the pain, cursing and muttering spells under his breath.

But she knew it was too late when her shield strained too far. She felt the magical connections snap apart.

“I’m sorry,” she heard Madara whisper.

And then she was ripping and tearing into little pieces. Madara’s arms held her tight as the agony engulfed her until everything went black.

++++

Her eyes flew open. They darted all around, searching for traces of the carnage she had just witnessed. She ran her hands up and down her arms, searching for chunks of missing skin and bone. Her frantic breaths began to slow as she realized that she was whole.

Her covers had pooled around her legs during the night. Her body was cold. She could tell she had been sweating. Sighing, she sat up in bed. As she dragged her hand across her face, her fingers came away wet with tears.

Now that she thought about it, it should have been obvious that she had been dreaming. There was no way there was a secret hidden room in the library. She had just talked to Naruto yesterday. As she took deep breaths to calm herself, she listed all the ways that her nightmare was ridiculous.

Sakura flinched when she heard a soft knock. The door creaked open. Madara’s face appeared, illuminated in a weak light spell that radiated from his shoulder.

“You okay?” he murmured.

She shrugged. She sniffed. Rubbed her face again. Madara clicked his tongue. He shuffled into the room in his slippers. She felt him lean over her to pull a couple of tissues from the box on her nightstand. He pushed them into her hands. She sat there staring at them.

“You haven’t had a nightmare like that in a while. Must’ve shook you up pretty bad,” he sighed. And then his hand landed on top of her head. He patted her hair a few time. Still a little clumsy, even after all these years.

Sakura didn’t say anything. She stared down at her hands.

Madara patted her head again before he asked, “Wanna talk about it?”

Sakura shook her head again. She was about to ask about pancakes when Madara sighed.

“Okay. It’s still early, so try to get some rest,” he said. He squeezed her shoulder.

Sakura sat in a daze for another minute. It took her a few tries to get her mind to focus on anything. She blew her nose, wadded the tissues up into a ball, and threw them in the trash. Out of habit, she disconnected her phone from the charger and lifted the screen up to eye level.

Friday, Nov 3.

A notification popped up on the screen to remind her that she had a date tonight.

But when she saw the time, she blinked.

It was barely 2 in the morning.

And then she sat wondering why she was so baffled by the time.

“You alright?” Madara’s face was tired. He must have stayed up late working again.

Sakura tried to put on a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she assured him.

Madara gave her a look that said he didn’t believe her. He pushed her until she laid her head back on her pillow. He pulled the covers over her stomach, smoothing it out with his palm. He always insisted on her keeping her stomach warm when she slept. It was such a specific thing to nag about.

“We can talk in the morning. Just sleep.” He interrupted himself with a yawn.

Sakura turned onto her side. She pulled her hair away from her neck, letting it fall across the pillow instead.

“I’ll be alright,” she said, her eyes closing.

Madara patted her stomach once through the covers. He grunted as he got to his feet.

She could hear his bare feet shuffling against the floor as he walked. And then thumped their way down the hall into his room.

When she managed to finally fall asleep again, she opened her eyes to complete darkness. She didn’t remember the entrance to the dream world or walking down that familiar corridor with all the doors.

Instead, she felt her body floating. And then warmth and pressure surrounded her. It wasn’t painful- this was a dream after all. But it was an uncomfortable sensation- being squeezed from all sides. She felt around in the darkness until she could find a gap in this strange space. Her fingers hooked onto a small opening. She pried the edges of the opening apart. To her surprise, the edges of the gap turned into fingers that grabbed hers.

“What the hell?”

She recognized that voice.

With a sharp tug, Shisui pulled her hand. She squeezed out of the narrow space. Once she was out, Sakura could see that she had been encased inside a dream he was still in the process of weaving together. Swirls of cosmic dust and gas floated together into a ball. She could even see the crack where she had emerged from. It didn’t matter that it was much too small. This was a dream. Things like physics almost never mattered. When she brushed her fingers over it, the gash smoothed over and disappeared.

Shisui scratched his head. He looked at her. And then twisted around to look at the door to his dream, which was closed.

“Where are you right now?” he questioned.

“Home,” she replied.

Both their eyes narrowed.

“That’s…” Shisui drew the word out.

“Weird,” Sakura finished the thought for him.

They stood there. Thinking.

“We should look this up later. I don’t think you’re supposed to be able to just… like… appear in here from so far away,” Shisui finally declared. Sakura nodded. But then Shisui shrugged.

“But whatever. You wanna help?” He pointed at the half-finished dream.

Sakura turned her attention to the orb. It was a deep purple color. The clouds that swirled across the surface were grey tinged with a hint of pink.

“What is it?” she asked.

“An old man wants to dream about being a superhero.”

Sakura smiled. “That’s cute.” She reached out one hand toward the orb. She didn’t even have to look as Shisui took her other hand, threading his fingers through hers. There was a warm tingle as his magic flowed into her, mingling together with her power. She heard Shisui shiver. But he didn’t complain. The magic of water affinity casters did run a little cold. And it would feel especially cold to someone used to breathing fire and shooting sparks from his fingertips.

“We should make it exciting,” Sakura mused as she laid her free hand on the orb. Shisui did the same. Splashes of color flowed from their palms, seeping into the fledgling planet.

“Don’t go crazy. The dude is 87, Sakura. You make it too scary and that shit lingers,” Shisui warned her.

For an instant, she remembered something. Scrying bones glowing gold across the wood floor.

Beware of the dreams that linger.

Do not give your heart away.

“You okay?”

Sakura lifted her chin. Shisui was scrutinizing her face. She nodded.

“Just… had a bad dream earlier.”

Shisui’s forehead wrinkled. “Ah. Sucks. Sorry.” But as he turned his gaze back to the planet, his expression lightened. “Just a dream though. They’re not real.”

“…Yeah. You’re right.”

#fanfiction #haruno sakura #modern magic!AU #uchiha madara #uchiha itachi #uchiha shisui #uchiha sasuke #eden #any theories?

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Eden: BLEACH [3]

ZERO / BLEACH (here) / TWIST / REVERSE / DYE / RED

++++

To see a world in a grain of sand and heaven in a wild flower/ Hold infinity in the palm of your hand and eternity in an hour. -William Blake

++++

Shisui still left on his trip.

“I’ll be right back. 3 days max,” he promised, even as Sakura fretted watching him pack his car. He talked to her in bits and pieces as he moved back and forth.

“You won’t even have time to miss me,” he added, shutting the door.

Normally, he was right. He came and went so often that it was an obvious thing.

“I won’t be able to see Venus like this for a while if I miss this window.”

When he stopped in front of her, she tried to put on a smile for him.

“When I get back, we’ll go to that Cuban place you love so much. On me, okay?” he reached out and squeezed her hand. Sakura squeezed back. Smiling brighter- brighter.

“Okay. Be safe.”

She watched him drive away, her heart plummeting down to her feet. She cast one final charm on him for protection as she watched the car make a turn at the end of the street.

At night, as she walked the halls of the dream world. Brushing her fingers along each ornate door, she always made sure to check Shisui’s. Deep blue with gold detailing. The handle was in the shape of a crescent moon. She rested her hand on it. Feeling the warmth of Shisui’s magic thrumming through it. He was too far for her to enter his dreams. But just knowing he was there brought her some comfort.

Itachi didn’t understand her sudden panic. Neither did Sasuke. But he packed a bag and moved into one of the guest rooms on the third floor.

“Just until you stop feeling… whatever you’re feeling,” Sasuke mumbled as he pushed past her when she opened the front door for him.

But as the three days went by, there was no word from Shisui. His phone went straight to voicemail. Neither of his parents had heard from him either.

At the very least, Sakura had pestered him enough for him to say where he was going.

Itachi borrowed Madara’s car to drive up to Shisui’s supposed destination. Sasuke went with him. Sakura almost volunteered to go too. But she thought of Madara all by himself, and she could almost see the blood painting the floor again. She settled for casting protection charms over both of them as she said goodbye. Her heart thumped in her throat until they returned just before sundown.

They contacted the police. Organized search parties. There was no sign of Shisui. It was as if he had just evaporated into thin air.

Ino and Naruto came over to help them post flyers all over the city.

Have you seen this man? they read.

When they stopped to drink coffee, Naruto put his arm around Sakura.

“It’s going to be okay,” he tried to comfort her. Ino put her arm around Sakura too, and they hugged her close. She was grateful for the warmth, even as her stomach continued to twist in knots.

On the fourth night, Itachi borrowed his dad’s car. He went up to search the mountains by himself.

He didn’t return either.

Sasuke tried to follow after them. Only after Sakura grabbed his legs and begged him not to go did Sasuke promise to stay put. He grew pale and sharp, pacing back and forth in front of Shisui and Itachi’s doors in the dream world each night.

Sakura cast Madara’s scrying bones each day, trying to divine an answer from them.

But they only repeated themselves over and over again.

Beware of the dreams that linger.

Do not give your heart away.

Customers and friends dropped by the dream shop, asking where Itachi and Shisui had gone. Those who knew what had happened expressed their sympathy. It was nothing she wanted to hear. Sakura took on Sasuke’s appointments and kept him busy sorting things in the back. He never thanked her out loud, but he bought her coffee more often. Carried her things when they walked back after closing the shop for the night. At the very least his grief hadn’t stolen that from him.

Then, one awful day in December, Shisui’s door went dark.

Sakura scrambled to find a knob. But there was nothing. She pressed both her hands to the door, and it was cold. She screamed in the long, twisting corridor of the dream world. Screamed until it echoed and rippled, warping the fabric of the dream. And when she woke, tears were streaming down her face.

Sakura stumbled into Madara’s room, half-blind in the darkness. He fumbled to turn the lamp on. And then his hands were grabbing hers.

“Shisui is-”

“I know.”

She held on to Madara as she sobbed. Wishing she had tried harder to stop him. And then Sasuke appeared in the doorway too. His face white. Eyes rimmed with red. Sakura reached her hand out for him. He grasped it tightly, silent tears running down his face as he stared at the ground.

They took turns keeping watch over Itachi’s door. It didn’t open up to welcome them. But it didn’t darken either. And that was one small source of comfort.

The scrying bones glowed a little and whispered:

Beware of the dreams that linger.

++++

Sakura couldn’t help but feel responsible in some way.

If only she had convinced Shisui to stay.

Or if only she had managed to hold on to Itachi. To have lost only one cousin rather than two.

She tried to recall that long dream. She didn’t remember seeing the darkened doors to Shisui and Itachi’s dreams. But, then again, she recalled how her fear had kept her up at night. She hadn’t really had a chance to enter the dream world properly during the fitful naps she snuck in. Perhaps their doors had gone dark. She wouldn’t have known.

The police claimed they were still searching, but both Sakura and Madara agreed that it obviously wasn’t enough.

“I’m sorry, Sakura. That sucks,” Naruto said. Leaning against her, he put his arm around her shoulder. Ino took Sakura’s hand and patted it a few times.

“Thanks,” was all she could say as her friends did their best to comfort her.

Then Naruto disappeared too.

And Sakura was left wondering why everything was crumbling underneath her feet.

++++

As the days in December went by, the new year loomed over the horizon. Sakura recalled how on New Year’s Eve, she had discovered Madara in that dream. She felt a little sick just recalling the stench of death that overflowed from his bedroom. Sometimes she imagined it when she poked her head inside, just to ask Madara to help with her increasingly frequent headaches.

She slept particularly fitfully one night. She didn’t even get a chance to get to the entrance to the dream world. She was immediately plunged into a nightmare, tossed violently from side to side as if she were in a storm on the open sea.

Every dream had a thread that bound it together. Unknotting it was all it took to resolve it- to send it scattering off in sparkling particles. While that thread was easy to see from the outside, it was much harder to spot on her own. She wandered along the shifting landscape. Now she was in a thorny patch of forest. Then a thunderstorm. Probably a reflection of her troubled mind more than anything.

It took a while. But when she finally found the thread that bound the nightmare, she gave it a sharp tug. Everything around her began to dissolve around her until she found herself standing in her room in the dream world.

There was a soft tap at the door. She knew Madara would walk in.

A fragment of the nightmare lingered- jagged and dark against the light purple walls and floor. Madara banished it with a shake of his wrist. He stepped forward and laid his palm against her forehead.

“You been getting these a lot?” he queried.

Sakura didn’t say anything. Didn’t really have to.

“May I?” Madara then asked, gesturing around. Sakura nodded.

He reformed the piece of the nightmare into a set of matching chairs. He took a seat in one and then patted the other. Sakura lowered herself into it. Her legs were still shaking.

They just sat there in her room. The gems sitting on the shelves pulsated softly in time to her heartbeats. Madara leaned back, one hand tucked under his head.

“You okay?” he finally asked after a long while. It might have just been a moment. It was hard to tell in the dream world. Time didn’t move the way it was supposed to.

“I…” Sakura pulled her knees up against her chest.

She had avoided telling Madara about her dream for the longest time. It was just a nightmare, after all. But it was the first time she had seen one so vivid. And it was the first time something had shaken her to the core like this. She was supposed to be grown now. But as she looked over at Madara, she felt her breath hitch a little.

“I have something I want to tell you, Papa,” she admitted.

His expression didn’t change. When she was younger, she had thought that meant he didn’t care. But he was listening. He opened his eyes, looking at her now. He arched an eyebrow, asking. She shook her head.

“Not here. When we wake,” Sakura added.

And as if responding to her wish, the dream world began to dissolve around them. It was so sudden that Madara’s eyes widened. He reached a hand out for her. But when his hand caught her arm, it just melted into air.

Madara jolted awake, sitting up in his bed.

“Sa-”

“Here, Papa,” Sakura said, stepping into his bedroom. She sat on the edge of his bed.

It startled her. The panicked look in his eyes. But it was familiar.

He grasped her hands a little too tightly. He brought her hands to his forehead. It almost felt like he was shaking a little. And that felt familiar too.

“Did you have a nightmare, too? It’s okay, Papa,” Sakura tried to assure him.

“Yeah. You’re right,” he replied, not meeting her eyes.

Madara took a moment to shake himself out of whatever it was. Then he ran a hand through his hair. He even smiled a little for her. And it struck her again how lucky she was to have him in her life.

“Papa, I had a nightmare.”

“Yeah, I know. I just saw.”

“No… I mean… a while ago. I had a really bad one. And… it really scared me.”

Madara was silent as he took in her story. And once she had finished speaking, Madara picked up the comforter. He wrapped it around her. And then with another smile, he patted her back a few times.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of you, kid,” he promised her.

He said it so easily. But it made her feel at ease. Madara always knew what to do. Or he would open up one of his old books and find an answer another way. He got out of bed, fumbling around for his glasses on the nightstand.

“You’re right that divination and dreams have some kind of link. It might not happen exactly the way you dreamt, but it seems like parts of it are already coming true. Let’s cast some shields around the house for now. And then I’ll figure out what we can do next,” Madara said, already coming up with a plan as he shuffled into his slippers and pulled a robe on over his pajamas.

He mussed her hair one last time before he made his way out of his bedroom. Already muttering incantations and plans to himself. Magic gently drifting off him like gold bits of glitter.

Sakura got dressed and woke Sasuke with a cup of coffee. Madara recommended that she didn’t tell him about the details of her dream. After all, if she had foreseen his brother disappearing, he might not react in the most positive way. She agreed. Especially seeing Sasuke’s bloodshot eyes. The constant exhaustion had really taken a toll on him. He brushed off her concerns when she asked him if he was feeling alright.

Madara was gone for most of the day. When he saw them at dinner, he dropped two necklaces on the table. They were made of silver chains wrapped around three identical gems. A minty blueish-green that swirled together with purple.

“Wear these,” he ordered, settling into one of the wooden chairs. He puffed out a deep breath, fanning himself. He was wearing an identical necklace to the ones he had brought them.

Sakura hovered a hand over one of the necklaces. The soft hum of a charm tingled against her skin.

She looked at Madara.

“Is this one of mine?” she wondered.

“Yeah. It’s from that fluorite you enchanted last summer. Your spell had a nice kick to it so I just enhanced it a little,” Madara replied.

That made sense. Madara’s job was to imbue magic into objects and to see how they interacted. It wasn’t the first time she had seen him enchant wearable objects. And even as she picked it up, Sakura could feel the necklace thrumming with magic now.

It was no wonder he seemed so winded now. It had probably taken a lot out of him to make three of these on such short notice.

“Wear them- especially when you’re out,” Madara instructed. He looked at Sakura. Waited until she nodded. And then he held Sasuke’s gaze. Only looking away when Sasuke nodded too.

Sakura recognized this protection charm as she clasped the necklace around her neck. Just to test it out, she slapped at Sasuke’s arm. Her hand bounced harmlessly off the invisible barrier. It was a shield that responded proportionally to the strength of the threat. When she aimed a fist at him, the shield rebuffed her with a snap.

Sasuke sent a tongue of flame toward her. It scattered off the invisible barrier in a shower of sparks. Even he looked impressed at that.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

Madara stared at his nephew. And then he patted him on the shoulder.

++++

They decided to close the dream shop for a while.

Madara drove them past in his car. Sakura hung out the window to cast barriers over the entrance and the windows. Just in case someone felt tempted to break in during their absence.

Then they lingered on the side of the street in the car.

It was late enough that no one was really outside. The windows of all the other stores were dark. Just the occasional neon sign flickering to advertise fortune telling or levitation charms.

Sasuke sat in the back of the car, staring at the shop too.

He had grown even quieter in the absence of his brother. Sometimes he smiled if she really tried to get in his face. But even then, Sakura knew. He was just doing it for her. That something had died inside of him when his brother had vanished into thin air.

Since neither of them was working, they spent even more time together now. Sometimes Sakura coaxed him into helping her testing out her thesis. They both knew that the thesis meant nothing to her now. But it was something to do. To break the suffocating silences where Shisui or Itachi should have been saying something beside them.

As snow fell quiet and lovely on the city, Sakura handed him a piece of banana bread fresh out of the oven. They sat at the window, staring at the powder that had begun to coat the streets and the telephone wires.

“Hey, Sasuke?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve got your back. Okay?”

He turned to look at her. Squinting.

“What?”

She nibbled at her slice of bread, still watching the snow. “I mean that I’m still here. I’ve got your back. So… don’t feel too alone.”

Sasuke stared down at the bread. It was dotted with chocolate chips and little bits of walnuts.

“I… yeah. Thanks,” he mumbled. And then he added, “I got yours too.”

They finished off the bread in silence.

Christmas suddenly rolled around. They found themselves completely unprepared until, two days before, Sakura saw the date on the calendar and noticed.

Even though no one was in the mood for any of that, they cast spells to drape the banisters with garlands and to hang holly from the doors. All the twinkling lights filled the house with glitter. But it lacked the warmth that usually came with this time of year. No one had to say anything. They all knew why.

They ate dinner on Christmas. Just the three of them. Music playing low in the background. The smell of cinnamon and orange filling the air from the candles that burned suspended in each room.

Maybe it would have been a little enjoyable if Sakura wasn’t busy fretting over the shields and wards set all around the house. With each day that brought them closer to the new year, she panicked over every detail. She set double and triple-layered protection charms over every door and every window. She even cast protection over Madara’s car parked on the street.

Madara caught her sitting on top of the steps past midnight. Sasuke had already gone to bed- not that he was getting very much sleep lately.

Madara watched Sakura testing the shield spells for a while. He disappeared for a bit. And when he returned, it was with a cup of coffee. She held it with one hand, continuing to cast with the other.

“Kid…” Madara sighed. “Sakura. You should at least pretend to sleep like Sasuke does.”

And then, leaning against the bannister, Madara smirked. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Don’t waste my breath,” he added before she could make the retort herself. He took off his glasses, let them dangle from the chain around his neck.

“Don’t stay up too late, okay?” he tried to warn her.

As he turned away, Sakura spoke in a tiny voice. So small she thought maybe he wouldn’t hear her.

“Merry Christmas.”

His back was still to her. But he tilted his head.

“Merry Christmas, kid.”

#eden #fanfiction #uchisaku #writing #haruno sakura

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Eden: BLEACH [2]

ZERO / BLEACH (here) / TWIST / REVERSE / DYE / RED

++++

One lives in the hope of becoming a memory. - Antonio Porchia

++++

There was a knock on the open door. Sakura scowled before she even looked up.

“Go away.”

“You sound more and more like him with every day.”

Sakura finally lifted her head from the ancient manuscript. She lowered her magnifying glass. 

“Headmaster,” she greeted Hashirama. The older man, who hadn’t aged a single day since she had first met him, smiled in return. He lingered in the doorway, well aware of the fact that she hadn’t actually invited him inside. She just blinked at him. 

Hashirama sighed. 

“You’re really just like him. I wanted to let you know that those spell books you requested last month are finally here,” he informed her. And then his eyes drifting to the pile sitting on her desk. “Oh… you already got them?”

Sakura paused. The truth was that she recalled in her long nightmare several days ago that these books would arrive. Just to be sure, she had popped into the library to check. And there they were. Labelled with her name and her department. 

It was unsettling- if that was the right word for a situation like this.

Coincidences happened all the time. But was it a coincidence if so many of them piled up at once like this?

“How goes the research?” Hashirama then asked. 

In response, Sakura extended her hand. She imagined the molecules in the air gathering into a solid surface. The shield expanded, shoving Hashirama all the way out the door. Hashirama examined the shimmering surface of the shield. When he poked it, static electricity crackled off the outside. He jerked his hand back. 

“That’s a nice touch,” he commended. And then he waved his hand. “Alright. I get the hint. I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Thank you,” Sakura replied, already turning back to her reading. 

Madara cackled when Sakura recounted the encounter to him that night.

“Good. Keep that geezer far away from you,” Madara agreed, crunching a pistachio between his back molars. 

Sakura thought for a moment. She turned away from the stove for a moment. It was her turn to cook dinner. “You’re no spring chicken yourself, Papa,” she reminded him. Madara frowned at her. 

Sakura paused. She lowered her spatula. 

“Sorry, was that too much?” she asked. 

But Madara only smirked, leaning against the counter. He ruffled her hair. 

“Don’t worry about that kind of crap, kid. We’re always fine,” he assured her. And then he pointed at the pan. Sakura went back to stirring the garlic before it could burn. 

“Quit snacking on those. You’ll ruin your appetite,” Sakura told him. She heard him chuckle.

“Are you my grandmother? Quit nagging.” And then he crunched through another pistachio, grinding it to pieces between his teeth. 

Later that night, Sakura laid on her bed, phone pressed to her ear. 

“Are you sure you won’t come? The guys are cute. I promise,” Ino pleaded one last time. And then she added: “Sorry. It’s just… I haven’t seen you in forever. I miss you.”

And Sakura smiled at the ceiling. 

“Yeah. I’ll sit this one out, Ino. I’m not feeling it,” Sakura answered. She heard Ino sigh. 

Before Ino could worry too much, Sakura then said: “I do appreciate the invites, Ino. I know you’re just thinking about me. I’ll be at the next one.”

Ino’s tone brightened. “Okay. I’ll talk to you tomorrow then.”

“Take pictures so I can see them later.”

“Yeah yeah. I’ll drop by the shop?” 

“Yeah.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Letting out a sigh, Sakura dropped the phone and rolled onto her side. She stretched her arms over her head. As she lay there, she could hear footsteps downstairs. She thought for a moment. And then her mouth opened. 

“Papa,” she called.

No response. 

She considered getting up, and then she extended her left arm. Pointing, she flicked her wrist as she called him again. 

This time, the “Papa” traveled down the stairs, spreading through the third floor like mist. She could feel the way the word surged ahead, knocking walls and doors, spreading until she was sure that it could be heard everywhere.

There was a pause. And then she felt Madara’s magic wash over her in a wave. Soft. Just a little warm- as were the spells of most fire affinity casters.

What.

I’m bored.

There was a drawn-out exhale. Madara trudged up the stairs, his glasses dangling from the chain around his neck. He stood in the doorway, hand on his hip. 

“What do you want me to do about that?” he demanded. 

Sakura tilted her head to look at him. 

“Dunno. I wanna eat something.”

Madara squinted at her. “We had dinner.”

Sakura stared right back at him. 

He pushed off the doorway, already walking out of the room. 

“You want toast?”

“With butter and jam,” she called after him. Hugging a pillow to her chest, she fell back on the bed again.

“Brat,” he grumbled, stomping down the stairs. 

Sakura laughed. 

They stood at the counter eating together, barefoot, scolding each other for getting crumbs everywhere. 

Sakura loved the way the butter melted in her mouth, mixing with the sweet taste of strawberries. Madara even cut the toast into triangles, just the way she liked, even though she had never once asked him to. 

It struck her, staring out the kitchen window, how fortunate she was. The people who had abandoned her had never written or called. She was sure that the Senju Institute and Madara knew of some way to get in touch with them. But she didn’t want to know. 

Madara had taught her when everyone else said there was something defective about her. He had given her a place to belong. And as all these thoughts swam around in her head, Sakura let her head fall against Madara’s arm. 

“You know…” 

Madara looked at her as he took a bite of his toast. 

“I really like being here with you, Papa. I feel happy here,” she told him. 

Madara stopped chewing. He looked away. 

“Then stick around, kid. It’s not bad having you around too,” Madara replied, not meeting her eyes. 

Sakura beamed. She didn’t have to say anything else. They finished eating their late-night snack together. Brushing crumbs off their face and licking jam from their fingers once they were done. 

++++

On the days that she wasn’t working at the dream shop, Sakura was working on her own research. Her thesis was exploring how magical barriers and fields interact with dreams. If shields and charms were cast in the real world, would those protections extend to dreams? (No.) Could they be manipulated to work in dreams? (Maybe- she wasn’t sure yet.)

Her undergraduate studies in abjuration focused mostly on shields and banishment. Shisui had laughed when she announced her major to them one morning at the shop. As Itachi and Sasuke both punched his arms, he tried to explain that it was a good thing. 

Of course you would want to protect people. That’s just like you.

Everyone in the Uchiha family agreed that Sakura’s shields had a kick to them. They didn’t just block. They fought back when attacked. One of her favorite shields was one that she liked to call The Urchin. It looked like any other shield- clear but shimmering faintly under the right light. If touched gently, it had no reaction. But if struck with force, thousands of spikes rose out of the surface to stab the threat. 

For Sasuke, who favored evocation magic, Sakura’s shields were a great source of amusement as he tried to find ways to break them down with fireballs and bolts of lightning. And Sakura in turn would then work to fix those weaknesses to render his attacks harmless. Neither of them ever admitted it out loud, but their playful competition was what had probably driven both of them to excel in their studies during their undergrad years. 

Itachi worked almost exclusively with illusions. His ability to blur illusions with reality made him a fearsome sparring partner. It was no surprise that he had graduated at the top of his class in record time. Even now, his old professors joked that Itachi had walked into the school and then walked out with his diplomas. 

Shisui was the only one among them that hadn’t gone on to college. But that didn’t seem to bother anyone- especially not his parents. Because as soon as it was legal, Shisui was scouted to work with the city’s observatory to test how celestial bodies and their positions influenced casting. It was a new field that not many people were familiar with. Shisui had a tendency to pack his car with his telescope and spectrometer and drive off into the mountains whenever the skies were clear. If his frequent absences irritated Madara, he didn’t say anything. 

With so many people around her who excelled at magic, it wasn’t hard to find someone to assist her with research on most days. Even her friends from school, Ino and Naruto, were usually around to lend a helping hand. 

But Sakura liked it best when Madara was the one to help her with her experiments.  

“Because I ask the least amount of stupid questions,” he guessed when she told him so. 

They sat cross-legged in Sakura’s room in the dream world. Madara looked around at all the crystals that filled the tall shelves. She had recently extended the height of her room just to accommodate them all. 

“No. You just… you’re good at knowing how to help. You’re kind of a natural, Papa,” Sakura replied. 

Before Madara could touch any of the dreams, Sakura made a sweeping gesture with both her hands. The room around them dissolved into a gentle blue mist. And when it reformed, they were standing in what looked like the city park. There was even a swing creaking gently in the breeze nearby. 

Madara was sitting on a boulder now. He patted the surface a few times, nodding approvingly. 

“The texture’s pretty realistic. You’ve got a good eye for detail,” he commented.

Sakura took a moment to smile before she closed her eyes and gathered energy into her palms again. This time, when she swept her arms, the particles in the air began to vibrate, knitting together. Closer and closer, closing the gaps until they formed a standard shield. 

Madara picked up a small stone and tossed it at the shield. It bounced off. 

“Well. Looks like it’s holding this time around.”

As he spoke, the smooth surface of the shield began to ripple. Like a soap bubble, it popped. Sakura’s arms fell to her sides. Her lips jutted out. 

“Oh man, I thought I really had it this time,” she lamented. 

But Madara just patted the empty spot beside him. Sakura made her way over. She climbed up on the boulder and plopped down beside him. 

“I wonder why shields don’t work in dreams. It would be helpful for lots of people,” she grumbled. She pulled her knees up to her chest. 

“Why’d you choose something so hard? No one’s ever managed to make abjuration magic last here. The dream world doesn’t follow the regular laws of nature,” Madara pointed out. And as if to drive the point home, he held up his pointer finger. A flame appeared at the tip. Only it was burning upside down. 

Sakura copied him. She lowered the temperature of the magic until it turned a dull, almost brownish color. When she lowered her hand, the flame dissipated completely.

“There’s lots of people. Kids especially. Who feel scared. And maybe they didn’t have some weird artificer popping into their heads every night to make the nightmares go away,” she explained. When she met Madara’s eyes, he was smiling again. Sighing, he patted her head a couple times. 

“You got a real heart of gold. You know that, right?” he commended. But the praise almost sounded a little sad. 

Madara’s hand fell away. 

“By the way, I wanted to ask.”

“Yeah, Papa?”

“You’ve been at home a lot lately. Something happen with your friends?”

It wasn’t like Madara to pry into her private matters. He hadn’t asked why she had started casting a barrier over their home every night before they went to bed. And he didn’t ask why she had suddenly started texting him every day while she was at work. 

It was just a nightmare. One of countless ones she had dreamt over all these years. It still made her feel sick to remember the scene. So much blood. 

She did feel guilty for not speaking to Gaara again. He hadn’t done anything wrong. But the image of him laying dead there next to Madara had felt too strange. Part of the reason she had chosen to minor in divination was because dreams and divination were often linked together. Dreams could be a warning of some events to come. And if Gaara was part of that ominous message, she didn’t want to involve herself with him in any way. 

“Just been busy. Too tired to go out, mostly. Everything’s fine with my friends. Ino’s gonna drop by the shop tomorrow. I might get lunch with her,” Sakura replied, looking down at her hands. 

They both looked up as they heard distant beeping. 

“That’s your alarm,” Sakura told him, turning to Madara again. 

He hadn’t aged a day since he had picked her up from the Senju Academy all those years ago. She knew that really talented casters who were constantly working with magic often lived much longer. Bathing in all that energy had a rejuvenating effect. She suspected that her aging would begin to slow soon too. It was rumored that Professor Tobirama and Professor Hashirama were centuries old- although no one would know from looking at their faces. 

Madara nodded. 

“See you soon, kid.”

He tapped her shoulder once before he dissolved into black mist. 

When Sakura opened her eyes, she could hear the faucet running in the bathroom. Her phone was buzzing on her nightstand. She reached over to hit the snooze button. The faucet shut off. 

“Papa,” she croaked half into her pillow. 

There was a pause. When she pried one eye open, Madara was opening her bedroom door. There was a towel around his neck.

“Pancakes,” was all she mumbled. 

Madara rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, Your Highness,” he complained, closing the door again. 

++++

The peaceful days continued even as the weather grew cold. Snow fell on the city, but the inside of the dream shop stayed cozy thanks to an enchantment cast by Madara at the beginning of every winter. 

Sakura didn’t really have to duck her head when she entered the store. But her cousins did. It was one of the few times when she was glad to be so much shorter. 

She unwrapped her scarf and tossed it into the air. It hovered there. Waiting until she unzipped her coat and threw it too. Only then did the magic whisk them both away to hang on the coat rack.

“Morning,” Sasuke said from behind the counter.

“Hi. I’m freezing,” she replied. Nose red from the cold, Sakura rubbed her hands together. 

“There’s still some coffee in the break room. Help yourself,” Sasuke told her. And when he began taking off his hoodie for her, Sakura waved his offer away. 

When she approached, Sasuke turned the appointment book around so she could see the day’s schedule. Itachi was upstairs dealing with a client already. She didn’t have anything booked until after lunch today. 

“Shisui?” she called. 

“In storage,” came a muffled reply. 

She found him digging through one of the shelves. To the side were rolled pieces of paper. She picked one up and opened it to find a star map. 

“What’s this?”

Shisui’s head popped up. 

“Ah. Weather looks real clear tomorrow. I’m gonna head out and get some readings.”

Sakura felt her knees buckle. She gripped the edge of the shelf as she remembered something else from that nightmare that had never faded from her mind. 

“Shi.”

“Yeah?”

When she didn’t speak, Shisui straightened. Dusting off his shirt, he stepped toward her. When he saw the look on her face, he rushed the last few steps. He grasped her shoulders.

“Hey hey hey. What’s wrong?” 

Sakura grabbed his forearms. 

“Do you have to go?” 

“What?”

“On your trip. Do you have to go?”

“Yeah, kid. Been planning this for a while. What’s wrong?” he said, slowly. He searched her face as he spoke. She hated the way his forehead wrinkled with concern. Hated even more the way Sasuke opened the door. Standing there with his fists held in front of him, as if getting ready to punch whatever had upset her. 

“What’d you say, you turd?” Sasuke snapped. He shoved Shisui aside. He ducked to get a better look at Sakura’s expression. 

“You don’t look so good. Let’s go sit down,” Sasuke suggested. He took her hand. Waited for her to slowly curl her fingers around his. As he guided her to the door, Itachi appeared. His face brightened as he spotted her.

“Hey. When’d you get here?” he greeted her.

The warmth in his voice made her burst into tears. 

“What’d you two say to her?” Itachi immediately accused. He crossed the threshold to wrap his arms around her, holding her close to his chest. He patted her back as he went on with his scolding the others. “She’s tired enough as is without you two saying something stupid to her.”

“I didn’t do anything, I swear.”

“I just said I was going on a trip.”

Sakura bawled into Itachi’s shirt. She didn’t have the energy to care how stupid she must look. She needed to tell Shisui not to go. Not go away. Because what if that awful dream came true and he disappeared forever again? And then Itachi would go too. And to imagine the sorrow in Sasuke’s face hurt more than all those other things put together. 

“Sasuke, go get her something to drink. Shisui, go get a blanket out of the back,” Itachi was ordering now. And then he lowered his voice. 

“There there. Cry it out. You’ll feel better once you do,” Itachi murmured, patting her back again. 

#eden #fanfiction #writing #uchisaku #haruno sakura

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Eden: BLEACH [1]

ZERO / BLEACH (here) / TWIST / REVERSE / DYE / RED

“I have been loved,” she said, "by something strange, and it has forgotten me.” -Djuna Barnes

++++

Do not give your heart away.

The scrying bones’ warning lingered in Sakura’s head. She shambled through her morning routine, bumping into door frames and buttoning her shirt up wrong. She stood in the doorway to the kitchen, just staring.

Madara stood by the stove, wincing as he sipped his too-hot coffee. He made a sweeping gesture with his finger. The pancakes in the pan flipped- perfectly golden brown.

He finally noticed her and clicked his tongue.

“What are you? Five?” he nagged as he gestured at her crooked shirt. Sakura followed his gaze. It took a second for her to realize what was wrong. She turned around to rebutton her shirt. And then her gaze fell on his face.  

“You’ve got an eye booger, Papa,” she pointed out.

Madara rubbed his left eye.

“No. The other one.”

He rubbed the other eye.

That made her smile a little.

Madara sniffed. “Get the syrup. You want orange juice?”

He turned away from her. And then he stiffened when he felt her hug him from behind, her hands clenching tightly into the front of his shirt.

“You’re acting weird. What’s wrong with you?” he wondered, twisting around to look at her. But she only held on harder, burying her face against his back.

They just stood there. Not speaking. She had no idea what expression he had on his face.

“I’m fine, Papa,” she finally croaked, her voice shaking.

“You’re…” Madara sighed. “You’re a really shitty liar.”

Madara finally managed to pry her off him to finish making breakfast. They sat across from each other at the smooth wooden table. Madara scrutinized her as she cut her pancakes into little squares. Her chin jerked up when she heard him mutter “ah, shit”. He had poured maple syrup into his coffee.

As Madara set the glass bottle aside, Sakura suddenly remembered another day just like this. Only laughing and reading texts from her phone. On a day just like this. One of the many she had seen in that long dream.

Sakura looked down at her plate. Her knife and fork still held in her hands.

“Not hungry?”

“Huh?” she mumbled, looking up again.

Madara was staring at her again, his maple-flavored coffee pushed to the side.

“You want something else?” he asked her, already twisting in his chair. He flicked his finger to open the refrigerator. The jars of pickles and other condiments jingled together with the movement. Madara begin swishing his finger back and forth, pushing around some bacon and a carton of eggs. He found some yogurt and a carrot.

“No. No, I’m… It’s good,” Sakura said, spearing a piece of pancake and popping it into her mouth. It was fluffy and sweet. Just the way he had cooked them for her since she was 8.

Madara turned back to her, still frowning. He made a sweeping gesture and the fridge door closed behind him.

“Maybe you should take a day off today. Shisui can cover your appointments,” he suggested.

Sakura shook her head.

Work was dependable. It would keep her mind off of things.

“I need to brew more sleeping draught. They say mine tastes best,” she insisted.

Madara’s lips thinned. But he nodded. Because he always let her do what she thought best. He was wonderful that way.

“You’ll be home early, right?” he asked. “I’ll make something good.”

“Yeah. I don’t have any plans,” she said.

On her way to the dream shop, she left Gaara a message and said she wasn’t feeling well. He seemed worried and asked when they could reschedule. She didn’t reply. She blocked his number instead.

The store was already open when she arrived. Sakura felt a faint hum in the air as she rested her hand on the doorknob. Bells chimed as Sakura stepped into the shop. The dreams sat on the shelves glowed white for a moment when she stepped inside. Then they faded back to their natural colors.

Her eyes fell on Shisui who leaned against the counter, his elbow on the register. His eyes widened when Sakura rushed forward to throw her arms around him.

“Woah! What’s up with you?” he demanded. But he hugged her back. Shisui might have been the only Uchiha in history who was a fan of physical affection. She squeezed him a little harder. Laughing, Shisui patted her back. But when she didn’t laugh in return, Shisui’s laugh faded.

“Hey. Did something happen?” he demanded.

“I’m just… just really happy you’re here,” she replied, pulling back enough that he could see her smile. Shisui tilted his head to one side, searching her face. Slowly, a smile appeared on his face too.

“Alright, Sakura. Good to see you too.”

Itachi received a similar welcome when he came downstairs. His client’s nightmare resolved, he left the woman to get some sleep. As soon as he appeared, Sakura barreled into him with a hug too. Itachi gave Shisui a questioning look over her head. Shisui shrugged in response.

Soon, it was time for Shisui to get ready for his morning appointment. He ruffled Sakura’s hair as he headed for the creaky stairs. Itachi put his coat on to go buy some coffee as soon as Sasuke arrived at the shop to watch the counter. Sasuke waved a lazy hand at her when she told him that she would be in the back.

A while later, she heard the door creak open.

“That’s alder, not peppermint.”

Sakura stared down at the bubbling cauldron. The light green leaves sat in her open palm. She blinked a few times. And when she lifted her chin, she found Sasuke leaning against the doorway. He held out a paper cup of coffee.

“Sorry, what?” she finally said.

He wrinkled his nose at her. “What’s up with you?” he wondered. He crossed the room to snatch the leaves out of her hand. He placed the correct ingredient in their place.

“You’re being weird,” Sasuke then added, scowling as he scrutinized her face.

That was fair. She had thrown her arms around him in a huge hug the minute he walked into the shop. Sasuke was not big on physical affection. She knew that. Still, he tolerated the hug for a few seconds before he was shoving her away.

“I...uh... sorry,” Sakura mumbled. She tilted her hand. Let the leaves drift down, landing in the hot potion. She stirred the liquid three times. Banged the spoon against the side of the cauldron for luck- just the way Madara had taught her. She accepted the coffee and opened the lid. Little dots of cinnamon drifted on top- just the way she liked it. Itachi never forgot.

Sasuke’s expression softened. “Is everything okay?”

Sakura closed her eyes. Trying to gather her thoughts.

“Um... I’m not sure,” she confessed. When she opened her eyes, she had an idea.

“I could use some family time. Should we ask Shisui and Itachi to get dinner?” she suggested.

Sasuke’s eyebrows rose as he thought. He looked up as he thought it over. And then he nodded. “Yeah, I should be free this weekend. Let’s ask.”

Itachi had taken a job a part-time job at the police’s Demonology Division last year. Some people called them demon hunters, which was, according to Itachi, “both wrong and ignorant”.

He mentioned this again when they all met on Saturday. Shisui popped a piece of broccoli into his mouth and chewed too hard. When he met Sasuke’s gaze, they rolled their eyes together. They had all heard this speech about a hundred times before.

They all knew that Itachi’s job was more about gathering information on demons and cataloguing them. Sometimes he had to go out and catch them too. But even then, it was more about rehabilitation than capture. After all, demons were just rogue spirits who had failed to uphold a contract.

Sakura threw Shisui a pleading look.

Taking pity on her, Shisui cleared his throat. “Okay, enough about that, Itachi. Why don’t we talk about something more important?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Like how Sakura’s date went the other day?” Shisui suggested instead.

Itachi’s eyes slid over to Sakura. Then back down to his carton. He picked through the contents with his chopsticks.

"Date? Was he nice?” he asked. He looked up at Sakura.

Chin sunk into her turtleneck, Sakura shrugged.

“I didn’t see him. It’s whatever,” she mumbled.

It was Sasuke’s turn to shoot her a look. He snorted.

“Whatever?” Sasuke repeated. “You wouldn’t shut up about it before it happened. What do you mean ‘whatever’?” He leaned over to peer into Itachi’s carton of food. Itachi tilted it toward his brother, but he kept his eyes focused on Sakura. Sasuke fished out a piece of baby corn and popped it into his mouth.

“Did something happen?” asked Itachi.

“I’m not gonna see him, okay? So just drop it!” Sakura snapped.

Sasuke dropped another piece of baby corn, chopsticks fumbling. He looked from Itachi to Shisui.

Shisui scratched his cheek. “Oh. Uh... Guess you really mean it,” he tried to laugh.

Itachi’s forehead wrinkled. “He didn’t do anything to you, did he?”

Sakura shook her head. “Just... I don’t want to see him again. Drop it.”

Shisui held his hands up. “Alright. Dropped,” he agreed.

Itachi got up to choose a movie. He and Shisui debated a few before they settled on a newer film.

As the opening scene lit up the screen, Sasuke nudged Sakura with his elbow. She glanced at him.

‘You alright?’ he mouthed.

Sakura nodded.

Halfway through the movie, Sakura felt pressure building up in her temples. Mumbling an excuse about going to the bathroom, Sakura slipped out of the room. She stumbled down the stairs. The wood creaked under her feet.

“Papa?” Sakura called.

There was no answer. And for a moment, she felt the same sense of panic rising in her throat. But then a silvery-blue water spirit flitted out of the bathroom. It hovered over to Sakura, landing on her collarbone.

“In the library, little one,” it squeaked. And maybe it felt Sakura’s heart pounding because it tilted its head.

“Why are you fearful?” it questioned her.

Sakura pressed her lips together. She shook her head, mustering a smile.

“It’s nothing. Thank you,” Sakura replied before she continued down the stairs. She pushed open the door that led to a spiraling staircase that wound down and down. She blinked when she emerged in the spacious library. Leaning against the balustrade was Madara, an old book in his hand. He lowered his glasses, letting them dangle from the chain around his neck.

“What is it?” he asked.

When Sakura massaged her temples, he indulged her with a smile. He reached for her with his free hand. The tip of his finger touched her head. He yanked. The tangled threads of magic unraveled and then exploded, showering down like little bits of confetti. Madara batted them away with impatient waves.

“What’s the face?” he then demanded.

“Nothing.”

“That’s not a ‘nothing’ face. What’s wrong?” he insisted, closing his book now.

Sakura kept her mouth shut. But she wormed her way under his arm, wrapping her arms around him. Madara blinked. And then he heaved a sigh.

“You really don’t change,” he muttered, patting her back a few times.

By the time she made it back upstairs, she had missed a few important scenes. Shisui offered to rewind it for her, but Sakura refused, settling on the floor beside Sasuke.  She grabbed a pillow, hugging it against her chest. Trying her best to focus on the bright colors that flashed across the screen.

The next day, at the dream shop, Shisui cornered her in the break room behind the stairs. Coffee in hand, Sakura muttered “good morning” to him, ready to squeeze past. Instead, Shisui took a step to block the door.

Sakura stared at him now. “What are you doing?”

Shisui stared right back.

“What’s going on with you?” he demanded.

Sakura blinked. Looked at her coffee. Then up at him. “I’m… drinking coffee?”

“You’ve been acting super weird. Is…” Shisui lowered his voice, ducking towards her, “Did something happen to you that you don’t want to talk about?” His eyes darted around.

Sakura hesitated.

He was right, in a way.

She had seen something she didn’t want to talk about.

Madara’s neck bent at the wrong angle. Beside him, Gaara with a hole in his chest, his hand still clinched around Madara’s arm. Blood creeping across the floorboards, so deep red that it was almost black.

If she thought about it too long, all the smells and sounds of that scene returned to her. She shook her head, trying to banish the memory.

“Just… had a nightmare. That’s all,” she answered.

Shisui’s expression softened. “Oh. Must’ve been pretty bad. I’ll come check on you tonight. I’ll sleep over, okay?” he offered.

And just because she wanted to stop talking about this, Sakura nodded.

That night, Sakura closed her eyes and found herself at the entrance to the dream world. The purple door seemed a little bigger than usual. When she rested her hand on the wood, the places she touched glowed softly. Warm. As if reassuring her. The tangled vines that edged the door shifted a little too.

The corridor was long. And as she walked, she passed doors that were dim and dull. If she tried to reach for doorknob, there was nothing there.

It had taken a few visits to the dream world for her to remember to ask Madara why that was.

“The doors only open if the person is alive. When you die, so does your door,” he explained, lowering his book. Never impatient that she had interrupted his research.

It made sense. The Uchiha family was old. Many people had come and gone over the years- many of them brilliant magic users in different ways. She wished on many occasions that she could meet these people. Just to talk about magic theory with them. Just to understand what kind of thought process had led them to their breakthroughs.

But dreams were tied to the soul. And if there was no soul, there was nowhere to tether those dreams anyway.

Sakura found her door. A minty green, shimmering a little. When she reached, the crystalline doorknob appeared in her hand. She twisted. Pushed. The door to her dream opened up so naturally.

Shisui joined her a little while later. He found her casting a particularly complex dream.  He ducked out of the way when Sakura extended an arm, and a bottle went sailing across the room to reach her hand. He stood in the doorway, watching the colors and sounds meld together. There were snippets of laughter. The smells of garlic and soy sauce. A song that sounded familiar.

“Is this… from movie night?” he realized as he stepped inside the room now.

He watched her pull all the swirling sounds and colors together. Her magic squeezed around them, a translucent mist that bent reality around the dreams. As she clenched her hand, the magic contracted too. It applied pressure and heat in all the right ways until the dream condensed into a single crystal.

“It’ll make a nice dream for someone,” she said softly, plucking the crystal from the air.  It was another rose quartz. The walls of her room in the dream world were already filled with them. But she couldn’t help it. Dreams about family and friends were her favorite to make. They were always warm. And it was nice to know that this warmth could be used to help someone else- even if just for one night.

“So…” Shisui took the crystal from her hand. He turned it around, examining the gleaming facets. “You wanna talk about this nightmare? Need me to untangle something for you?”

Sakura snatched the crystal back. She tossed it into the air. It hovered for a moment, then found an empty spot on the shelf and slid into place.

“Papa’s better at untangling nightmares than you are. It’s fine,” she replied, a little snootily. As expected, Shisui’s expression crumpled with disgust.

“Ugh. You’re so attached to him. It’s gross.”

She didn’t get mad. She knew he was only half-serious. And as if to prove it, he smiled at her.

“You sure you don’t want to talk?” he asked one more time.

She nodded. “Yeah. I was just being silly… letting something like that get to me.”

Shisui made another face. “It’s not silly,” he insisted.

And because time flowed strangely in the dream world, they heard a distant beeping noise. They fell silent, straining to hear it.

“Is that your alarm or mine?” Shisui wondered.

“I… think it’s… mine,” Sakura guessed.

“Alright then. See you later,” Shisui said. He waved once before the room began to dissolve all around them.

When Sakura opened her eyes, she was lying on her side, one of her arms thrown over her face. Her phone beeped on the nightstand, demanding her attention.  She groped around until her finger made contact with the screen. The beeping stopped.

She lay there in the half-darkness of her room. A few slivers of light leaked in through the blinds. But it would be so easy to close her eyes and drift back off to sleep.

She heard creaking footsteps in the hall. Madara’s bleary, uneven footfalls thumped down the steps. And then she heard a drawn-out grunt.

“What the hell are you doing in my house?” Madara demanded.

“Ugh. Shut up, old man!” snapped Shisui. And then he yelped.

Sighing, Sakura got out of bed to go intervene before they hurt each other.

After a good night’s sleep, Sakura felt more like herself. She buttered a slice of toast, humming a little. Madara scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Feeling better?” he inquired.

“Yeah.”

He gave her a clumsy pat on the head as he went to pour himself more coffee.

Shisui let out a huge yawn. Eyes barely open, he shoveled spoonfuls of cereal into his mouth.

Sakura rubbed the back of her neck. And then again.

“Papa, I think my tag is scratching me,” she grumbled. Sakura leaned over, pulling her hair to the side.

Madara paused. And then he snickered. “Still such a kid,” he teased her. But he reached over and tucked the label of her shirt back in place.

“There you go, kiddo,” he then said. And then the gentleness was gone as he turned his gaze to Shisui.

“Hurry up and get the hell out of my house,” Madara ordered.

But Shisui, who was used to this by now, completely ignored his uncle as he poured himself another bowl of cereal.

Sakura laughed when Madara transmuted Shisui’s cereal milk into orange juice. And then she laughed even harder when Shisui turned Madara’s stubble bright orange in retaliation.

In that moment, with the autumn sun spilling in through the kitchen window, everything was alright.

#eden #fanfiction #haruno sakura #uchisaku #uchiha shisui #uchiha sasuke #uchiha madara #uchiha itachi #everything is a circle

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Eden [Index]

summary In a city where dreams are bought and sold, the line between reality and fantasy blur. Sakura finds herself reliving the same 2 months over and over again as she tries to untangle the tragedy behind that final New Year's Eve. Modern magic!AU. Uchisaku (kind of).

Eden: [prologue]

Bleach: [1]    [2]    [3]    [4]

Twist: [1]    [2]    [3]

Reverse:

Dye:

Red:

#index #fanfiction #uchisaku #eden

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Eden: ZERO

ZERO (here) / BLEACH / TWIST / REVERSE / DYE /  RED

Death is not the opposite of life, but a part of it. - Haruki Murakami

+++

“You’re doing it wrong, you know.”

Those were the first words Madara had ever spoken to her. Arms crossed across his chest, over his half-buttoned shirt. Staring down at her with those arrogant eyes glinting bright red.

“Then show me how to do it,” she retorted. Unaware of how dangerous those words were.

A harsh wind swept through. Sakura squinted her eyes shut against the hair that blew into her face. When she opened them, the man stood just in front of her. Grinning with too-sharp teeth as he leaned over her. Those luminous eyes widened as he took in the golden light sputtering between her palms.

“What are you? 12? Don’t even know how to do basic channeling?” he asked, eyes darting back up to her face.

“8,” Sakura corrected him.

“Ah. Shit. Seriously?” His expression shifted. The furrow in his brows deepening as he squinted down at the magic twinkling and then dwindling in her hands.  Thumb on his chin, he leaned in a little closer to the sparks.

“Are you channeling through your solar plexus or your heart?” he demanded.

Sakura made a face. “My what?”

He sighed.

“Take a deep breath, through your nose. Like this.” And he demonstrated. Inhaling through his nostrils. He exhaled long and fast through his mouth. “When you breathe out, feel your abdomen move. Right here.” He touched his stomach.

Sakura watched him do it once more before she tried it herself. Breathing in deep through her nose. Exhaling through her lips.

“Now try channeling your magic through that part of your stomach you just felt,” he instructed.

Her eyes closed as she followed the steps. She gathered her breath, willing her strength into her palms as she exhaled. The golden sparks appeared again, but this time, they spilled from her palms, down her arms. They showered her clothes and the ground with bright lights before winking out of existence.

“I did it!” Sakura exclaimed. And when she lifted her chin to thank him, the man was gone.

++++

The world overflowed with magic. It clung to blades of grass and wafted off the smoke rising from chimneys. It lingered in the alleyways, mingling with the smells of food from all around the world. A melting pot of pastelitos, General Tso’s and doner kebab all in one.

Anyone who couldn’t perform magic bought it. And the more complex the magic, the more valuable it was. Simple levitation charms and giggle potions could be purchased in the same vending machines that sold soda. People walked out of salons with hair that changed color in the sunlight. Sleepy janitors on the night shift could twist a finger and let the mop work by itself as they took a quick nap. 

The city of Konoha was as old as it was busy. It wasn’t where Sakura had been born, but it was where she was now. 

She lived in one of the dorms at the Senju Institute. Many of the students there were children of non-magical parents and trained them to wield their powers. This program was, in essence, an orphanage, but no one liked to say that out loud.

There were many things to be grateful for. The Senju Institute fed her and kept a roof over her head. None of the teachers or fellow students were ever unkind to her. But a label seemed to hang over her head everywhere she went.

This girl can’t wield magic.

No matter how much she studied, how much she practiced, she couldn’t understand the lessons from the instructors. Who told her, “Follow your instincts” and “feel the energy”. Which meant absolutely nothing to her. Besides that odd encounter in the library, Sakura had never managed to properly channel magic before. And as her classmates learned to conjure light and summon orbs of water, Sakura found herself falling farther and farther behind.

Tutoring sessions with the teachers did nothing. So while Sakura struggled with the application, she threw herself into reading up on the theory. Because maybe there would be an answer in one of those big, dusty books in the library about what made her defective.

If anyone wanted to know how to do magic, Sakura could recite it without a thought. The irony was comical, in some ways. Although, Sakura didn’t find it very funny at all.

++++

“You can’t just show up whenever you want,” Tobirama griped, not for the first time, as he watched Madara peruse the shelves of the school library.

“Relax. Your brother said it was okay. Isn’t he in charge?” Madara said.

“Yeah. But I’m also in charge. And I hate you,” retorted Tobirama. Madara snorted. And then he found his eyes drifting past the shelf. Past the balustrade. Downstairs, he glimpsed a little girl sitting alone at one of the long tables. Her nose buried in a huge textbook.

“That girl,” Madara mused. And Tobirama turned to follow his gaze. He let out a heavy sigh.

“Ah. Sakura? Good kid. I feel bad for her,” he replied.

“Bad? Why?” Madara’s eyebrows rose.

Tobirama paused. He peeked over at the girl to make sure she hadn’t heard them before he leaned in a little closer.

“She seems to have the spark, but she can’t channel magic. Her pathways must be dead or blocked,” Tobirama whispered, hand covering his mouth. Madara’s mouth twisted, eyebrows rising.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

It was Tobirama’s turn to look surprised as he watched Madara cup his hands around his mouth.

“Hey! Kid!”

The girl’s head jerked up. Her eyes widened.

“You still remember this?” Madara asked. He held out his palm. Gold sparks flooded his palm, overflowing. Spilling over the railing. Down to the floor below. The girl nodded. She held up both her hands. She squeezed her eyes shut, biting her lower lip.

“Feel where your breath is. Push the magic through there,” he reminded her.

Slowly, flecks of gold gathered at the tips of her fingers.

“Exhale. Push through your stomach.”

Gold welled up in her hands. And then it began spilling endlessly, bouncing across the tile. 

Madara turned to Tobirama with a smirk. “You know, Tobirama, sometimes telling people to just feel magic doesn’t work,” he rubbed it in. But Tobirama didn’t even see the expression as he hurried down the stairs to examine the magic. Sakura looked from Tobirama, up to Madara. Her face gold as the light from her magic bathed her expression.

Madara raised his eyebrows at her as he descended the stairs. 

“Hey. Try this,” he urged. And then he closed his fingers around the sparks. They spurted between his fingers before they began to lump together. Burning red hot, thrumming with energy. When he opened his hand, a smooth black stone glistened in his palm.

Tobirama sighed. “Come on, Madara. Even senior level students struggle with transmutation.”

The girl’s forehead wrinkled. She grabbed Madara’s hand, jerking it down to eye level. She scowled at the shimmering rock.

“How do I do that?” she demanded.

“Make the sparks. Breathe,” instructed Madara, snatching the orb away.

She took a step back. Sucking in a deep breath through her nose, she summoned the golden sparks to her hands once more.

“Now. Kid. The magic is moving quickly because all the molecules are moving fast,” Madara explained. He pointed at the sparks. She stared. “They’re all vibrating. Bumping into each other. All because it’s so hot.”

“It doesn’t feel hot,” she protested.

Tobirama sighed again, shaking his head.

Madara shot him a dirty look before he looked down at Sakura again. “Well, you’re not wrong, kid. I’ll get into that stuff later. For now, just believe me. It’s hot for the magic, alright?”

The girl continued to frown, but she slowly nodded.

“Then make the magic stop moving so fast,” he explained.

She blinked a few times. Then lifted her chin to look up at him. “So... tell the magic to cool down?”

He thought for a moment. And then Madara smirked. Hand on his hip, he nodded.

“Yeah, kid.”

She stared directly into the sparks. She sucked in another breath. And then she began to close her fingers, just as Madara had. As she moved her hands, she whispered to the sparks: “Cool.... it’s time to be cool. It’s not hot anymore. It’s nice and cool. Slow…”

Tobirama’s eyes bulged as the sparks slowly darkened. The magic began to swirl together in her palms, rippling back and forth with each of her breaths. Then, slowly, it gathered into a solid shape in her cupped hands.

“Show me what you got, kid,” Madara instructed.

As the girl opened her hands, the object between her fingers slipped out. Madara’s hand flicked. It rose in the air, sparkling as it rotated. It was a crystal with a pointed tip. Purple, green, and blue swirled together in layers, gleaming as light bounced off the surface.

“Huh. Fluorite. Good quality too,” he commented. When he flexed his fingers, the crystal began to spin in the opposite direction. But when he glanced at the girl, he saw that her eyes glittered even more brightly than the crystal she had created.

“I did that?” she whispered.

“Yeah. Impressive for your first try,” Madara replied. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the crystal flying over to her. She held both her hands out. It fell into her waiting grasp.

Smug, Madara turned toward Tobirama.

“See? Kid can do magic just fine. Pretty gifted, honestly,” he rubbed it in. Relishing the way Tobirama glared at him.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Tobirama ground out.

“Can you teach me from now on? You’re a good teacher,” Sakura spoke up. Still clutching the crystal she had created.

Tobirama and Madara both looked down at her. Her eyes gleamed. Rubbing his chin, Madara considered this.

“Tell you what, kid. I’ll do you one better.” Madara grinned.

“Madara, no,” Tobirama was already protesting.

“You ever had your own room before, kid?” asked Madara, hand on his hip.

It had taken some persuading. As a student of the Senju Institute, Sakura was technically in the care of the school itself. Plus, Hashirama, its headmaster, wasn’t keen on the idea of just… giving a student away. 

Madara, however, was not above playing dirty. When he began rattling off a list of all the ways both brothers owed him, Hashirama finally caved.

Madara would take custody of Sakura. He would instruct her on the fundamentals of magic. When Sakura was old enough, and had developed enough of her skills, she would resume her studies at the institute.

As Madara watched her pack up her things, he looked around the narrow room she shared with one other girl. Her roommate had some photos taped over her desk. There were a few posters on her side of the room. A picture frame sat on her nightstand. All Sakura had were her books, along with a blue vase filled with fake flowers. The books she scooped up into her arms and dropped into her suitcase. She didn’t move to take the vase.

“Ready to go?” he asked as she set the suitcase on the ground. The things inside rattled around. Half-hollow. Half-filled.

Sakura nodded.

Madara’s home sat halfway across the city from the Senju Institute. The inside of his car was old-fashioned, but it was clean. The worn leather seats gleamed. He drove with the windows down, his hair whipping back in the wind.

“So… what do you do?” she asked.

Madara pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. His lips twisted to one side.

“I dabble. Been going by ‘arcanist’ for a while now,” he replied. When Sakura continued to stare, he laughed a little, teeth glinting. “I research magic and how to put it inside things. I also come up with spells to use magic differently.”

“Do I have to call you ‘dad’?” she then asked.

Madara wrinkled his nose. He waved a hand, as if shooing the title away from him.

“Nah. I’m Madara. You can call me that. Or ‘teacher’. Whatever. Just don’t say ‘old man’,” he answered.

Madara’s home didn’t look like much from the outside. But inside, it was filled with books, spell ingredients, and whatever other clutter he had gathered over the years. Candles bobbed in the foyer. Shoes floated into a closet as soon as they were off the feet. The welcome mat shifted colors whenever someone stepped over it.

It was also much too big. 

Sakura’s jaw dropped the first time she stepped inside. She backtracked onto the front steps. Stared up at the narrow apartment. Then stepped inside again, staring at how tall the ceilings were. 

“Extension magic,” Madara chuckled as he watched her dumbfounded expression. 

The next few days were a blur of learning the house’s layout and trying to absorb all the information Madara threw at her.

“There’s no real schedule. Eat when you like. We can do your lessons in the afternoon, so you can sleep in,” he said as he poured himself a glass of wine.

“What about school?” she asked.

“I am your school. There’s nothing at those ridiculous schools that I can’t teach you better at home,” Madara scoffed.

“What about math? Or reading and writing?”

Madara heaved a sigh.

“Kid. I got it,” he assured her.

Despite his attitude, Madara was a proper teacher. He waited for her to understand before he asked her to do. Whenever she asked for him to explain again, he did so. The technicality of Madara’s casting made a lot of sense to Sakura.

“Not like that. Spread your fingers. You need to leave space for the magic to gather,” he explained as  he nudged her hands. He stood with his feet shoulders width apart. As Sakura adjusted, he pointed down at his feet. She inched her feet closer together until he nodded.

“Now. Let’s try again. Remember, you need to break the bonds and remake them,” Madara reminded her. He waited for her to nod before he took a deep, slow breath. Sakura copied him, feeling the heat gather in her fingertips.

Madara never made her feel like she had when she had stayed at the Senju Institute. Deficient. Slow. Somehow less than the others who ran around with their hands shooting sparks in every direction.

The Senju school of magic focused on drawing upon emotions and imagination. And while their magic was strong, it was also volatile and ran the risk of turning destructive.

The Uchiha family’s knowledge of magic emphasized understanding the science of magic. What created it? How could it be channeled optimally? They were the ones who had discovered that wooden wands and staves are actually a poor conductor of magic. The discovery had led to the development of new casting tools that had filled up the family’s accounts faster than the banks knew how to handle.

As Sakura spent more time with Madara, the more she realized that magic wasn’t just about the spells. It was woven into the very fabric of reality. It changed the structure of objects and bent light. All she had to do was tug on a few strings to set things into motion.

“Water and fire are kind of alike, actually,” Madara said. He held his hand out, palm up. His palm seemed to glow for a moment before a flame flickered to life just above it.

And with just a little more effort, he changed the fire into water. The droplets danced together before he crushed them in his palm.

“Why?” Sakura asked.

“It’s all about the energy of the matter. If you change the energy, you can change the state of things.”

Sakura touched her hand to her chin. “More energy is hotter,” she recalled him saying.

Madara nodded.

“But more energy can also be gas,” she went on.

Madara’s eyes crinkled a little, but he said nothing.

Sakura’s forehead wrinkled as she peered up at him. “Am I a water affinity?”

Madara nodded.

“And you’re fire?”

Madara nodded again.

“Can someone be good at both?”

Madara thought for a moment. “Your natural affinity is what you’ll be good at with little effort. It would be more challenging, but it’s possible to do both well,” he decided.

Sakura tilted her head

“What about earth?” she asked.

Madara laughed. He leaned back in his chair. “You must’ve driven those teachers crazy with all these questions.”

Sakura didn’t smile. She looked down at her feet. “They got mad when I kept asking…” she confessed.

Madara’s laugh cut off. He examined her expression. And then he ruffled her hair. “Aw, kid, don’t look like that. You can ask me as much as you like. Just as long as I’m not trying to sleep,” he assured her. And then he paused. 

“I mean... sometimes when I’m... ah whatever. Ask away, kid,” Madara concluded. Watching the dimples form in her cheeks as she gave him a shy smile in return.

++++

“Nice work today. Your basics are really coming together,” Madara commended her over dinner one day.

Sakura smiled around her bite of chicken. She was doing that more and more now.

“Next, we should take you to an appraiser. Your folks wouldn’t have brought you to Konoha if you didn’t have an affinity for dream magic,” Madara went on. He slathered a biscuit with too much butter, gesturing with his knife as he spoke.

Sakura’s smile faded a little.

“They did it once. At the Institute,” she admitted.

“And?” Madara prompted, cheeks stuffed with food. “What’s the verdict, kid?”

Konoha was famous for the art of dream magic. Unlike elemental magic, which most people could learn to use with the right training, dream magic couldn’t be learned. It was innate. Dreams, shadows, thoughts- those were all things that ran in the blood.

Someone had once thought to call those would could handle dreams dream casters. It was a silly name, but it had stuck. A low level dream caster could bottle a dream that already existed and sell it for profit. A more skilled dream caster could amend parts of a dream, or even piece one together from scratch. 

Sakura nudged a piece of broccoli on her plate.

“They never said.”

They had taken one look at the paper and sent her back to her room. The subject had never come up again.

“Those fuckers,” Madara sighed. His eyes widened. At the same time, Sakura’s head jerked up.

They stared at each other.

“Was that a bad word?” she asked.

Madara’s eyes darted to the ceiling. Then back to her. “Uh… yes. You shouldn’t say it.”

“Even though you just said it?”

“….Yeah.”

“….Okay.”

The test was simple.

Madara sent her to bed early that night. Reading the expression on her face, he mussed her hair. 

“Don’t worry, kid. It’s not hard,” he assured her. 

Despite all the questions swirling around in her head, Sakura managed to fall asleep. And as she found herself dreaming of a park on a sunny day, she spotted a familiar figure sitting on one of the benches. Madara lowered his round sunglasses with a smirk. 

“Well. Only dream casters can meet in dreams. Gotta make room for that in your lessons, I guess,” Madara mused, rubbing his chin.

When Sakura woke in the morning, she shuffled into the kitchen bleary-eyed. Madara stood flipping pancakes at the stove. Well, more accurately, he stood drinking coffee while a spatula flipped pancakes on its own. Madara turned his pointer finger in a circle. A glass flew out of the cupboard. The refrigerator door opened so a carton of orange juice would move to join the cup. 

“You ever get any training in dream magic before, kid?” Madara asked her.

Sakura shook her head as she watched the glass fill with juice. When she held both her hands out, the cup lowered down into her waiting grasp. 

“Good. Means I don’t have to undo any garbage they put into your head at that school,” Madara muttered. 

Nightmares were a common issue for dream casters. Especially in children. Who had an excess of magic with no way to use up the energy. The surplus magic seeped into their dreams. Twisting things into horrors that only a child could imagine.

Madara taught her not to fear. 

“You shape the dreams. They cannot shape you,” he told her. 

Each dream caster had a way of envisioning dreams. And a way to bend them to their will. 

Madara saw dreams as swirling black mists. When he casted, he sank into the endless field of mist, feet settling onto the soft black powder that coated the ground. He pulled the mists into shapes, sculpting them into people and objects. He could even sweep bigger sections into the skies and the ground. And when he channeled his magic, burning red for just a moment up his fingers, he filled the mist with color and texture. 

Sakura copied him, at first. 

But even as she learned, Sakura loved watching him bend her dreams. Twisting the nightmare shapes into harmless stuffed animals and pieces of furniture. He conjured ice cream out of thin air. He could even make stars appear in the sky where there had been none. It all felt so natural. And it was so easy to do it once she had seen him do it a few times. 

“Is it normal for us to have bad dreams?” she asked one night as he lit the incense in her room. The fragrance filled the air. Madara paused. And then he looked over his shoulder at her.

“In the beginning, yeah. Maybe it’s the cost of walking through everyone else’s dreams,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He lit the last stick of incense before he took a seat next to her bed. “But you’ll stop having them. Or you’ll learn how to make them good again.”

Her room was right across the hall from his. He had heard her wake up crying the first few nights in the house. So it had become part of the routine for him to check on her. He never said why. He didn’t really have to. And she didn’t thank him for it. Somehow she got the feeling that it would embarrass him.

“I wish I didn’t have bad dreams,” she muttered, pulling the covers up to her chin.

Madara smirked. “Same, kid. Good night.”

He mussed her hair before he got to his feet.

++++

“Alright. So.” Madara took a deep breath before he started.

“This is my little brother Izuna. That’s my nephew Fugaku. And those are his two kids Itachi and Sasuke. This is Obito, I think he’s a nephew. Or maybe he’s a cousin. Cousin’s cousin? Eh, whatever.”

He pointed to each face in the photograph as he rattled off the name.

“That’s too many people,” Sakura said. Cheek in his hand, Madara nodded.

“Family’s too damn big. Anyway, I’m the head, so you can be as rude or as nice as you want. No one’s gonna say shit to yo-” Madara broke off as he caught himself swearing again. Sakura scrutinized his expression.

“I’m not supposed to say that word?” she guessed.

Madara sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. “Yeah.”

“Okay.”

And then she turned her attention back to the album.

“So… they’re my family too, now?” Her voice was suddenly tiny. Not like her at all.

Madara stared at her profile.

“Yeah, kid. You’re not alone anymore,” he answered. He rested his hand on top of her head. It was heavy, but she didn’t complain or shake him off.

It wasn’t difficult to get to know the other members of the Uchiha family. They came to visit often. So much so that Madara grumbled and threatened to kick them out each time they showed their faces.

But Madara’s too-big house started to make sense. All the spare bedrooms were perfect for when someone wanted to spend the night.

Shisui liked to crash on the sofa when he fought with his family. Itachi used one of the guest rooms when he wanted to study dream magic with Madara. And Sasuke was there the most often. When he needed a quiet place. When he just needed space from his parents. Because “they care about me, but they’re…a lot.”

None of them batted an eye when Madara introduced Sakura as their cousin. Shisui took to ruffling her hair the same way he did to Sasuke. Itachi reminded her about elbows on the table and offered to help her with her homework. Sasuke was just relieved to have someone his age around now. After years of Itachi and Shisui ganging up on him for being “the baby”.

The titles for how they were related to Madara were tangled and complicated. They called him “Uncle”, and Madara called them her cousins. And that was good enough for her too.

Sakura liked it when her cousins slept in the house. The proximity made it easier for her to visit them in their dreams.

In the early years, when her magic was still a tiny little sapling, she could only visit a dream that was very nearby. And that was almost always by accident. She would stumble into a place that wasn’t hers, baffled by the weight and shapes of things.

It happened the most with Madara, since he was usually nearby. And if he was irritated by her intruding on his dreams, he never let it show in his face. 

But as time went on, she began to wield her magic with more ease. And rather than falling thoughtlessly into dreams, she could imagine the shape of the entrance to the dream world. It was a worn wooden door, painted deep purple. There were vines crawling up the edges, spreading towards the keyhole. Which made no sense, because it always opened without a key at her touch.

Madara taught her about the portal that would take her to the Uchiha family’s dreams. It was a long corridor filled with ornate doors. Each one a different color and shape. And when she hesitated, Madara tugged her hand to pull her forward.

“Your door is here too,” he had assured her.

And Sakura blinked. “Mine?”

She memorized the shapes and colors of the doors she knew. Itachi, Shisui, Sasuke, Madara’s, and finally hers. The jeweled handles turning soundlessly under her fingers.

It turned out that even dream casters in the same family envisioned dreams differently.

Shisui dreamt of space. Each of his dreams was a different planet, swirling with cosmic dust. Nightmares were filled with storm clouds. Quiet dreams were barren moons that spun on in silence. 

On the nights when he worked, sometimes Shisui let her tag along as he cast together people and places into one planet. Crushing them between his palms as they rotated faster and faster. Until light shone between his fingers. And when he pulled his hands apart, a planet or a moon spun in place. A dream that he would then pluck out of space and file away for later.

Itachi saw dreams as a vast ocean. When he casted, he plunged into a deep ocean. He settled onto the soft sand at the bottom of the sea. Corals bloomed and seaweed waved in time to the current. And he pulled the fish and all the shells together, weaving them into a beautiful dream that could lull the most anxious heart to sleep. 

It was strange being where Itachi cast his dreams. Silence. Bubbles rising with each exhale, even as she breathed without a problem.

Sasuke’s was unusual, even among his eccentric family. He dreamt of a vast warehouse of boxes and jars. Sakura trailed after him as he wandered the aisles, grabbing things off the dusty shelves. Sometimes she even carried some of the things for him, listening to him mutter and sigh as he tried to find just the right ingredient. And then Sasuke dumped all these things into the giant vat in the middle of his dream space. 

It was fitting. Given how Sasuke liked formulas and order. Sakura sat to the side, watching as he brewed up a beautiful dream, more clinical and more calculated than those of his cousin or his older brother. But beautiful nonetheless.

With all of these influences around her, it wasn’t difficult for Sakura to discover how to cast dreams her own way. She experimented with different styles until she found one that just sang in her palms. 

When she entered her room in the dream world, she imagined fragments of dreams as colors and sounds. A little like Sasuke’s, these fragments lived in glass jars that lined the walls of the room. But when she popped the cork, sound spilled out of each one. Someone’s laugh. The honk of a car horn. People singing “happy birthday” off-key. 

When these fragments swirled together into a tapestry of colors and sounds. Thrumming warm between her fingers until they gathered together into a solid shape in her hands. At first, she made them take the shapes of smooth stones. But over time, she learned to turn them into crystals instead. Just like the fluorite Madara had first taught her how to make. The stronger dreams became more jagged crystals. While the softer ones became rounded gems that sat warm and curved in her palm.

And just as she liked to visit her family in their dreams, they liked to visit her too. Itachi, in particular, loved to sit on a cushion in the corner, his chin in his hand. 

“It’s elegant.”

Sakura turned to him, her hands still squeezed together. A snippet of laughter slipped through between her fingers. 

“What?”

“The way you weave dreams. It’s elegant. Just like Uncle’s,” Itachi clarified. He held his hand out. Sakura dropped the dream into his palm. It was a rose quartz, shiny and smooth. 

++++

Part of Madara’s deal with the Senju Institute was that Sakura was required to participate in the same exams as other students. So, once a year, Madara drove her to the school. He parked his car in the lot and waited while she took the exams.

Some of the other students recognized her. They whispered, nudging each other with elbows. Some snickered as they waited for a good show as she failed to conjure anything. Like always.

Instead, she recited incantations forwards and backwards. Her hands glowed as she filled the room with a rippling aurora. She conjured balls of light and turned them into water. The muttering and smirking stopped right away.

It seemed silly now. And she could hear Madara’s voice in her head. Imagine him slouching in a chair in the corner, acting like he wasn’t paying attention even as he advised her to straighten her posture. 

Breathe deep, kid. Magic starts with the breath.

Feel the heat gather in your stomach and pull it into your hands.

Water comes from your head. Imagine it spilling down your neck and arms. That’s the magic pathway you need to use.

The sputtering instructors tried to speak with her after. But Madara leaned on his horn. Everyone rushed to the windows to cast a glimpse of Madara poking his head out the car, one hand cupped around his mouth.

“Let’s go! Takeout’s getting cold, kid!” he called.

“Coming!” Sakura yelled back out the window before she hurried down the stairs.

And as Sakura got into the car, Madara always paused to glare up at the school. “Anyone give you any trouble?”

“No. It was fine,” Sakura always answered.

“Good,” Madara grunted as he backed out of his spot.

++++

At some point, Sakura couldn’t remember when, she stopped calling Madara by his name. Maybe it was around the same time, he stopped calling her “kid” or “squirt”.

It was odd, because that seemed like something important. So she should’ve remembered it.

But maybe it was because it had happened so quietly. So naturally.

One day, she looked at Madara’s back as he stood in the middle of the massive library inside their house.

“Papa.”

“Yeah?”

He didn’t laugh. As if that was what she had always called him.

“Can we go over that transmutation spell again? I’m still kind of lost.”

“Sure,” he replied, already descending the ladder with several books floating down after him.

++++

Before either of them knew it, years had passed. Sakura enrolled in the Senju Institute as a college student. She majored in Abjuration with a minor in Divination. When she graduated with full honors, Madara had barely batted an eye.

“Didn’t expect anything less from you,” he assured her as he took them out to dinner to celebrate. They clinked wine glasses together.

Four months later, she was back for her Masters in Magical Research. She commuted from home, like she had during undergrad.

“You know, you’re always welcome back here,” the headmaster liked to mention whenever they bumped into each other. Which was a little too often for it to feel like coincidence.

“No thanks,” she replied, barely looking up from her textbook, “I like where I am.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear, smiling as she pretended not to notice how the headmaster’s eyes narrowed.

“Tell that old man to go fuck himself,” Madara scoffed when she brought it up over dinner.

“Papa. Language,” she chided. She flicked her wrist. The pepper shaker glided across the table, into her hand.

“That is the right language for him,” Madara snorted.

Fourteen years had passed since she had come to live in that house. Her room still sat across the hall from Madara’s, all the way up on the top floor. In all that time, Madara had never once nagged her about staying up late at night. He didn’t complain about how she used all the hot water in the house whenever she showered. 

The closest they had ever come to fighting was when he had insisted upon hanging her diploma and her graduation portrait in the foyer. She thought it was embarrassing. Especially since Madara loved to brag about it anytime someone visited. He refused to let anyone inside until they made some sort of positive comment about the diploma. It made Sakura groan and put her head in her hands. 

“You hate it that much?” Madara had teased at first.

Lifting her head, Sakura wrinkled her nose. She couldn’t really say ‘yes’, though.

++++

“And this is where it all starts.”

++++

It was early in the morning on a Friday. 

Magic trembled in the air. Like a raindrop clinging to the underside of a gutter. Wobbling. Waiting until the moment that gravity would drag it down.

Madara rolled onto his side, his ears ringing and his ribs sore. He started when he heard someone exhale beside him. He didn’t remember bringing anyone home last night. He wondered what time it was.

“Papa. I need to borrow your scrying bones.”

He let out a sigh of relief at the sound of Sakura’s voice. Pulling the covers over his shoulders, he turned over again.

“Don’t you have your own?” he groaned. He felt persistent pokes to his lower back.

“Yours work better,” she insisted.

Madara didn’t respond. But after a long time, he heaved another sigh. He raised his pointer finger and flicked it through the air. The bottom drawer of his nightstand opened. A black velvet pouch floated up, landing in her hands.

“Thank you, Papa. I love you,” she said in a sing-song voice. She kissed the back of his head through the comforter before she pranced off. Humming as she rattled the dry bones together in the pouch.

“What’re you trying to scry anyway?” he asked, squinting as he pulled the comforter away from his face.

“I wanna know what I should wear on my date today,” Sakura yelled back from the other room.

“Oh,” Madara said. He snuggled back down in the comforter. Letting out a yawn, he closed his eyes again. Relaxing in the warmth of his blankets in the ear-

“Wait. Date?” Madara repeated, eyes snapping open again. The comforter tangled around his legs as he launched himself out of the bed. He scrambled to his feet, kicking the sheets aside as he hurried out of his room. Listening to the rattle of the scrying bones knocking together as she cast them to the ground.

“With who?” Madara asked. The door to her bedroom was wide open.

“A guy. We were in the same chem class last year,” she answered. She stared at the bones she had scattered across the rug. She nudged a couple of them with her pointer finger. Madara scowled.

“Hey. Don’t force the bones,” he reminded her.

Sakura’s lower lip jutted out.

“If you want a certain answer, you shouldn’t be consulting the bones in the first place,” he then scolded her.

Sakura pouted even harder as she turned around to stare at him. Madara flinched a little. He wasn’t proud to admit that he had succumb to those pleading eyes on several occasions.

“This is important to me, Papa. Don’t be mean,” she insisted.

Madara exhaled noisily, rubbing his hand through his hair. And then he flapped his hand at her. “Alright, alright. Keep at it,” he told her, crossing his arms across his chest. A proud smile crept across his lips as he watched the bones begin to glow a soft shade of gold.

Divination had always come easily to her.

Wisps rose from the blackened cracks in the bones. Sakura leaned in to listen to the whispers.

Eyes widening, she turned her head to look at her bed. There were a few different sets of outfits laid out on her comforter.

“Really? The red one?” she mused.

The bones hissed something else before the mist dissipated. Sakura stared down at them for a moment.

Beware of the dreams that linger, they had whispered.

“What?”

Sakura looked up to find Madara still in the doorway. He yawned as he stretched his arms over his head.

“You’ve got an eye booger, Papa,” she pointed out.

Madara rubbed his left eye.

“No. The other one.”

He rubbed the other eye.

Sakura scooped the bones up and dropped them into the silky pouch. She tied the string. Madara held his hand out. Sakura tossed the bag up into the air. It drifted to Madara, landing in his waiting palm.

“Do you have time for breakfast before your date?” he asked.

“Yeah. It’s not until tonight. Can you make pancakes?” she requested, staring up at him. Madara grumbled, scratching his stomach. Sakura pulled on the bottom of his shirt as he shuffled past her.

“Go wash your face,” he sighed as he walked out of her room. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the bag of scrying bones flying back into their spot in his room. Bleary-eyed, Madara made his way down the stairs towards the kitchen.

They had breakfast a little while later. Sakura laughed when Madara almost poured maple syrup into his coffee. Madara snorted into his food when Sakura read one of her texts out loud. Sakura snorted too as he began choking on his food. They were both in tears and wheezing by the time they had cleared their plates.

After they did the dishes, Sakura glanced down at her watch.

“I’m gonna go to the shop first. I won’t stay out late,” she promised. She gathered her hair in one hand and pulled it off her neck as she searched for her phone. Madara froze. Sakura looked back when she felt his stare.

“What?”

Madara blinked hard. And then he smiled.

“Your phone’s in your hand, kiddo,” he pointed out.

Sakura looked down. She laughed. Madara did too as he went to pour himself another cup of coffee.

++++

The Uchiha family’s dream shop sat in a quiet street not far from Madara’s house. It was close enough that she could walk, although Madara insisted that she ask him or one of her cousins for a ride at night.

It was a little cramped. And they could more than afford to move into a larger space. But there was something charming about that crooked shop. About the way they had to scoot past each other on the narrow stairs.

The sign above the door was in the shape of a paper fan. The white and red paint was peeling. Shisui and Sasuke nagged Madara about upgrading to a neon sign every once in a while, but Madara had ignored them for years. And would, undoubtedly, continue to ignore them for as long as possible. 

The store was already open when she arrived. Sakura felt a faint hum in the air as she rested her hand on the doorknob. Bells chimed as Sakura stepped into the shop. The dreams sat on the shelves that lined the walls. They glowed white for a moment when she stepped inside. Then they faded back to their natural colors. Dreams about adventures were green. The ones about love swirled pink and light purple.

These dreams had been collected from other people. Friends, acquaintances. Sometimes just strangers who slept beautifully. Sakura dove into their dreams and took a part of it home with her. Gathering the threads of the dream matter in her hands like glistening threads as she walked. As long as she was careful, when she woke, those threads were still in her hands. She could slip them into jars with a hint of enchantment to stabilize them. 

It was one of the first things Madara had taught her outside of basic magic. This was the cheapest form of dream magic. After all, dreaming someone else’s dream wasn’t perfect. Details didn’t always line up. Names and faces wouldn’t make sense. But for most people and their budgets, this was enough.

“Hey,” Shisui greeted her, leaning against the counter and the register. Sakura waved at him as she shut the door behind her. She ducked beneath the mobile of colored ribbons and bells that hung from the rafters. 

“Is it just us?” asked Sakura, pulling her scarf off. She tossed it into the air behind her. Along with her coat. An enchantment caught them and pulled them onto the coat rack in the corner. The spell even straightened out her coat so that it wouldn’t wrinkle. 

Shisui tapped a pen against the counter. He tossed it and then stretched his arms over his head. “Nah.” He interrupted himself with a big yawn. “Itachi’s upstairs with a client right now.” He blinked a few times, obviously exhausted. 

Shisui rubbed his eyes with his palms. “Sasuke’s doing something at the lab. He’ll be by later to lock up.”

“On the third floor?”

“Yep.”

Sakura craned her head to look up as she thought. 

The customers who weren’t satisfied with buying prepackaged dreams were where they made the big money. Some wanted the dreams that were tailored to their specifications. Others had nightmares that they needed a dream caster to untangle. Both services required the dream caster and the client to be asleep at the same time. The therapy rooms upstairs provided the quiet space these clients needed. 

Sakura made a note to stay extra quiet as she moved around the shop. 

Shisui watched the counter, checking on sales and appointments. Sakura kept busy organizing dreams and taking inventory of what they needed to harvest. 

This was how most days at the shop went. They swapped out roles as their clients came in for appointments. Sakura’s gentle touch with both clients and dreams made her popular with children. Women almost always requested Itachi or Sasuke. Shisui was the most popular among their older clientele. 

Madara himself didn’t come to the shop much these days. He always joked: “Why would I? When I have you kids to make all the money for me?”. They only pulled him from his research when there was something the four of them couldn’t figure out on their own. 

On the nights that Sakura stayed late, there was almost always someone who would walk her home. Or Madara would drop everything to be there once she texted him. Hand on the back of the passenger seat. Grinning with those sharp canines that she had once found a little intimidating (how silly).

“Hey kiddo. Ready to go home?” was his corny greeting each night.

That night, Madara didn’t pick her up. She still messaged him to let him know that she had left the shop, Sasuke would be closing up, and not to wait up for her.

Izuna brought jerk chicken. I’ll pack leftovers for your lunch tomorrow, Madara replied.

Sakura sent him a series of purple hearts in response.

The date went well. Gaara had sat next to her for an entire semester. They had spoken a few times. Once, he had asked for a pencil. So it had surprised her when he had asked for her number, face turning so red he looked ready to explode.

Dinner was at a tiny Turkish restaurant. They sat at one of the counters by the window, a little squished as they bit into spicy lamb and crispy falafel.

“What are you doing now that we’re out of school?” she asked. She took a slurp of soda through her straw as she looked over at him. She laughed when she saw him struggling to swallow his food to answer. She handed him a napkin.

“Eat. It’s okay,” she giggled.

Gaara blushed again as he wiped his mouth. The thin paper stuck to the oil on his fingers.

“I’m… working at city hall. For public works,” he finally managed to say.

Sakura tilted her head to one side. “I’m not really sure what public works is in charge of,” she confessed.

Something lit up in his eyes. He sat up a little straighter as he began explaining. “There are divisions within public works. But basically it’s in charge of taking care of public buildings and facilities in the city. I work for the division that oversees the parks. I go out to visit them and check that they’re safe. Sometimes I survey people to ask what they think we can do to improve things.”

Sakura smiled a little. She leaned on her hand as she listened to him. And when he had finished, he glanced over at her. Suddenly small and quiet again.

“You really like your work, huh?” she commented.

He flushed bright red, all the way to his ears. But he nodded.

“That sounds really cool. What are you working on lately?” Sakura asked.

They stayed until the manager of the restaurant apologized and said it was time to close. As they stood on the sidewalk, Sakura puffed out a breath. It was getting cold at night. Her hands in her pockets, she cast a sidelong glance at Gaara. He was looking down at his phone.

“I’ll call you a cab,” he offered.

Sakura thought it over. And then she nodded.

“Sorry. I’d give you a ride if I had a car,” he added as he pressed some icons.

Sakura snorted. “I don’t have a car either. Can’t judge.”

He chuckled too.

And then as they stood waiting, Sakura heard him shuffle his feet.

“Uh… so… can I see you again?” he asked.

Sakura rocked back on her heels. She took a deep breath of the cool air. When she looked up at him, she was smiling again. “You’re cute. You have good manners. You have a job that you’re passionate about. I don’t see why not,” she answered.

His eyes widened. Sakura burst out laughing at the look on his face.

When the black car pulled up, Gaara opened the door for her. He waited for her to get into the back seat before he closed the door. And then he hesitated, fingers resting on the handle.

“Can you text me to let me know you got home okay?” he requested.

Sakura leaned out the open window. She reached out to tap him once on the nose. “Sounds good to me. Good night,” came her reply. As she rolled up the window, his fingers slipped off the door.

Sakura listed out her address to the driver before she leaned back in her seat. She caught the driver glancing at her in the rearview mirror.

“Good date?” he asked.

“Yeah,” answered Sakura with a smile.

Even though she had told Madara not to wait up, he was sitting at the kitchen table when she got home. She tossed her coat in the air. One of Madara’s spells caught it and draped it over a hanger. Just like the one that gathered her discarded shoes and slipped them into an empty spot on the shelf. She climbed the steps, rubbing her hands through her hair.

“Hi, Papa,” she greeted him as she walked into the kitchen. He raised his eyebrows and nodded before he returned his attention to his book. Sakura scrubbed her hands clean in the sink. The smell of the fruity soap filled the room. She rubbed her hands on a kitchen towel before she took a seat next to Madara at the round table.

“How’d it go?” questioned Madara. He slipped a bookmark between the pages before he shut the cover.

“Pretty good. He seems nice,” Sakura said right away. Madara pulled his glasses down, hooking them into the front of his shirt.

“Are you going to see him again?” He tried to keep his tone casual, but Sakura wasn’t fooled. Tongue between her teeth, she grinned at him.

“Aw, Papa. Are you gonna feel lonely if I get a boyfriend again?” she teased.

Madara looked disgusted by the very idea. “No. I’m looking forward to some peace and quiet again,” he retorted. Sakura snickered. And a smile touched Madara’s lips as he got out of his seat.

“I’m going to have some coffee before bed. You want some?” he asked.

“I wanna try the one Uncle Izuna brought last time,” Sakura called after him before she slumped over the table.

The kitchen always smelled like coffee. Madara probably drank more coffee than he did regular water. It was no wonder that his sleep schedule was all sorts of messed up. Coffee in the morning. Decaf at night- even though that didn’t seem to help. The kettle let out a whistle when it was ready. Madara poured the water through the filter into her favorite cup. The white one with red flowers.

“How was the shop today?” inquired Madara when he returned. Sakura inhaled the fragrant steam.

“How was the shop today?” inquired Madara when he returned. Sakura inhaled the sweet-smelling steam.

“A little quiet. I need to get more childhood dreams. I’m starting to run low,” she mused. She reached over to pick up his book. It was old. The green cover was peeling at the edges.

“What’s this?” she wondered.

“I’m looking at tracing magic in ancient artifacts. Kind of dry,” he huffed.

“You writing a new research paper?”

“Yeah.”

“Why don’t you pick a topic you like more, Papa?” wondered Sakura.

Madara rolled his eyes. “It’s a request from someone I owe a favor to,” he responded.

Sakura wrinkled her nose.

Madara sighed. “Exactly.”

They chatted for a little while longer before Sakura began to yawn. She rubbed her wrist across her eyes. “I have to head to school in the morning to pick up some materials. I’m gonna go to bed,” she announced, getting out of her chair. She gathered both their empty cups to place in the sink.

“Night,” Madara greeted her.

“Good night, Papa,” she replied. Sakura gathered her purse and her phone. She squeezed Madara’s shoulder as she walked past.

++++

As the weeks went by, Sakura found herself quite busy. Whenever she wasn’t at the shop, she was busy working on her thesis. Sometimes Naruto and Ino wheedled her into taking a break. They got cheap pizza and sat eating on the curb. Or sometimes her cousins barged in with Vietnamese food and soda, completely ignoring how Madara glared at them as they stormed inside.

“I didn’t invite you,” he scolded.

“Nice to see you too, Uncle,” Sasuke called over his shoulder as he climbed the stairs up to Sakura’s room.

Sakura met Gaara a few more times. He really was very sweet. He always seemed embarrassed whenever he caught himself talking too much about his work. But it was nice hearing someone so excited about something. They went to see a movie. Another time, they just walked in the park, getting lost among the winding paths and trees.

“I really want to focus on finishing my thesis right now. I hope you don’t feel like I’m leading you on or anything,” she had explained once.

“That’s alright. I don’t mind waiting,” Gaara replied. And then he walked into a tree branch, making Sakura burst into giggles.

November turned to December. And suddenly it started to snow all over the city. As the white flakes covered the asphalt, Sakura browsed the library inside their house. It seemed impossible that such a huge room existed in the building. Of course it was. But Madara’s magic played around with the dimensions of the room to make it happen. It was an odd combination of light and heat that Sakura still struggled to pull off after all her years of practice.

Sakura pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. The silver wire frames had once been Madara’s, which, like many of his possessions, she had claimed as her own.

“What?” she called, leaning back on the ladder to peer at him. With a flick of his finger, Madara pulled the ladder down the wall of shelves, closer to him.

“I asked have you seen Shisui?” And he punctuated the end of the sentence with a sigh.

“Yesterday. At the shop. Why?” 

“His parents say they haven’t seen him since yesterday. Can’t get in touch with him either.”

“Maybe his phone’s just dead, Papa,” Sakura suggested. She pulled another book off the shelf, leafing through it. 

Whenever he wasn’t working at the dream shop, Shisui was usually doing magical research of his own. In particular, he was interested in how the position of celestial bodies affected spells. It wasn’t unusual for him to disappear with his telescope and his spectrometer for a night or two. 

“That’s what I thought at first. But it’s been a full day and no one’s seen him,” answered Madara. He leaned against the rungs, his hands under his chin. 

In front of him was a shelf full of manuals on torture and human anatomy. Those were from some of his darker days as a younger man. His eyes flickered over to Sakura before he slowly waved his hands. The spines sparkled before they blurred. The letters of the titles swirled around, rearranging themselves into different words. Then he shot Sakura another look.

She was still looking through the shelf higher up. She hadn’t noticed anything.

“Either way, his parents are worried. Keep an eye out for him,” Madara insisted.

Sakura considered this. “Have you asked Itachi? He always knows what Shisui’s up to.”

Madara shook his head. “Says he has no idea either.”

There was a pause. Sakura pushed her glasses up again, lips twisting to one side. She pointed to a few books, which slid out of place from the shelves. They hovered in the air around her. 

“I’ll ask my friends and see if they’ve seen him around,” she finally agreed. Madara smiled up at her.

“Great.”

That same night, only much later, Sakura’s shadow fell across the threshold of Madara’s room. She knocked on the open door. Which was a little silly, given that he could see her. But it was an old habit. 

“Papa?”

“Hm?”

“I’ve got a headache again.”

Madara pulled his glasses off. Sighing, he put the glasses, along with his pen in the book to mark his place.

“It’s because you overdo it,” he scolded, even as he reached his hand out for her.

Pressing his fingertips to her temples, Madara channeled energy through the thin skin.

“Take a deep breath.”

He pulled the magic, which had twisted and bunched up in all the wrong ways.

“Inhale.”

He tugged. The threads of energy shattered. Like a jar of marbles overturned. The little shining pieces scattering in every direction. Gold fluttered from her temples, fluttering off in little glittering pieces.

Sakura’s eyes opened in time to catch the list glimmers of magic dissolving into the air.

“Am I channeling wrong? I keep getting them a lot lately,” she wondered. Rubbing the heel of her hand against her temple.

“No. It’s a common issue, actually. When you walk dreams, the residue magic follows you. It’s just buildup. Regular clarification like this is all you need,” Madara assured her. Sakura frowned a little harder.

“Have they found Shisui yet?”

Madara leaned his elbow on his headboard. He heaved a sigh. “Not yet.”

“It’s not like him to just run off. I hope he’s alright,” Sakura mused, frowning too. Sakura looked up when she felt Madara pat her knee. 

“Things’ll be fine. They always are,” he said. 

Sakura searched his eyes for a moment. And then a smile pulled at her mouth. She nodded, sighing. “You’re right.”

++++ 

A week later, and Shisui was still missing. Along with Itachi, who had never missed a day of work before.

“Still no word?” asked Ino.

“Nope. Nothing,” Sakura replied. 

“Have they called the police?” Naruto wondered, leaning his elbow on the front counter of the dream shop. 

“Yeah. They even went to his apartment. Nothing. Passport’s still there. None of his stuff is missing. It’s just... poof,” Sakura listed, shaking her head a little. 

It really wasn’t like her cousins to disappear without a word. The police claimed that they were searching, but both Sakura and Madara agreed that it obviously wasn’t enough. 

“I’m sorry, Sakura. That sucks,” Naruto said. Leaning against her, he put his arm around her shoulder. Ino took Sakura’s hand and patted it a few times. 

“Thanks,” was all she could think to say as her friends did their best to comfort her. 

And while Sakura really was grateful, she felt worse for Sasuke. He hadn’t slept in days as he took to the streets in search of his older brother. She tried to go with him whenever she had time. And she called him on the nights she couldn’t, just to ask how things had gone.

Sakura even considered planting a dream in Sasuke’s room. Just to force him to get some rest. But she knew he wouldn’t like that. And he was so sharp that he might even spot it before it had a chance to take hold of him. 

“You doing okay?” Ino questioned.

Sakura blinked. She smiled. “More than everyone else, I think. I’m trying to be positive.”

Naruto’s forehead wrinkled. “Aw, Sakura, I love you and your big heart,” he sighed, squeezing her a little tighter. Ino wrapped her arms around Sakura’s other side. 

“Things will work out,” Ino reassured her. 

++++

That night, Sakura walked into her house to silence. It was New Year’s Eve. She had promised to be home early so they could watch the countdown together.

“Papa? You didn’t pick up so I just walked home,” she called as she stepped out of her boots. She leaned a hand against the wall for balance. Paused. Waited for Madara’s voice drifting down the stairs to her.

Nothing.

“Papa?” she tried again. 

Something about the quiet made her uneasy. She walked up the stairs, looking for a glimpse of silvery wings. There was usually a spirit around that she could talk to. But even the usual hum of magic that buzzed around the kitchen had gone silent. 

The back of her neck itched. Sakura scratched at it as she wandered through the house. Nothing in the living room. Or in the laundry room. 

She climbed the stairs. Madara’s study was empty. So was the second floor bathroom, where she sometimes found him sitting with a cup of coffee and chatting with the water spirits. 

The third floor was silent too. But something about the air felt off as she climbed the last steps. And there was an odd smell. Metal. Metal and something that made her head begin to pound.

The floorboards creaked under her feet. She peered into her room first. Her bed was still unmade. One of her drawers sat open with her laptop resting on top. The string lights that framed her window winked at her. Everything was just as she had left it that morning. 

Part of her must have known what she would find. She found herself dragging her feet. Blinking too much as she forced herself to cross the hall. To knock on the door that was ajar. Pretending that the huge pool of dark red wasn’t spreading across the white wood.

She could hear herself screaming. She couldn’t make herself stop. Tears filling and blurring her vision. She screamed and screamed until she could feel her ears ringing with the sound. 

++++

“Hey! Sakura!”

Her eyes flew open. She could see a dark shape hovering over her. She flinched away until she recognized the glasses hanging from the front of his shirt. 

“It’s just a bad dream,” Madara said. He snapped his fingers. An orb of soft light flickered into existence. Just enough for her to see that this was her bedroom. She could also make out his look of exhaustion as he sat on the edge of her bed. 

“You okay?” 

Sakura shook her head. She sniffed. Rubbed her face. Her palms came away wet with tears. Madara clicked his tongue. She felt him lean over her to pluck a couple tissues from the box on her nightstand. He pushed them into her hands. She sat there staring at them. 

“You haven’t had a nightmare like that in a while. Must’ve shook you up pretty bad,” he sighed. And then his hand landed on top of her head. He patted her hair a few times. Still a little clumsy, even after all these years. 

Sakura didn’t say anything. She stared down at her hands. 

Madara patted her head again before he asked, “Wanna talk about it?”

Sakura shook her head again. 

He sighed. “Okay. Let me go make some pancakes. It’s almost time to get up anyway,” he decided. He squeezed her shoulder before he got up. She could hear his bare feet shuffling against the floor as he walked. And then thumped their way down the steps. 

Sakura sat in a daze for another minute. It took her a few tries to get her mind to focus on anything. She blew her nose, wadded the tissues up into a ball, and threw them in the trash. Out of habit, she disconnected her phone from the charger and lifted the screen up to eye level. 

Friday, Nov 3.

A notification popped up on the screen to remind her that she had a date tonight.

Sakura dropped her phone. It bounced once on the mattress. She cast another wary look around her bedroom. And then she was scrambling off her bed, stumbling into Madara’s room. She yanked the bottom drawer open. Underneath a worn journal sat his bag of scrying bones. Sakura poured them out onto the rug right there. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” Madara’s voice came from the doorway. 

Sakura tried to push her tangled hair out of her face. She gave a hiss of frustration before she yanked it into a bunch on the side of her head and held it in place. She took a long breath before she could gather her frazzled thoughts enough to channel magic into the dry bones. 

The black fissures in the bones began to glow. Voices hissed out through the brittle marrow. 

Beware of the dreams that linger, they whispered again. 

Sakura squeezed her eyes shut. She channeled a little more magic. 

The whispers chanted the phrase over and over again: Beware of the dreams that linger.

And as the voices began to fade, they left her with one more warning.

Do not give your heart away.

“You know, you could’ve just asked to borrow them.”

Sakura’s head whipped around. Madara stood there, arms folded over his chest. He tilted his head a little as he looked her over. 

“Go wash your face,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of the bathroom. 

Sakura turned back to the bones. They sat limp and cold on the rug. She scratched the back of her neck, heaving a sigh. 

“Okay,” she answered before she scooped the bones up into her hand and dumped them back in the pouch.

++++

“And this is where it all starts again.”

#fanfiction #haruno sakura #modern magic!AU #i've been playing with this idea for forever #uchiha madara #uchiha itachi #uchiha shisui #uchiha sasuke #idk how to explain this #uchisaku #kind of #i'm stuck on amaryllis so i'll work on this until i can figure out what to do

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Hi! I wanted to tell you that your work makes my day better! Especially now when I have a lot of uni work, and I just had the change to read your new posts! I've been reading Amaryllis since the previous version was up and it was everything I would have wanted in a story. And it only got better 😊 I hope you'll have a beautiful new year's eve!

Thank you, anon! I’ve been swamped and having a lot of trouble writing lately. But I haven’t forgotten this lil baby. 

#Anonymous #asks

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Amaryllis | Chapter 24

<Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25>

++++

Karui tapped the pipe against the edge of the table. Ash fluttered down as the blue smoke rose up. She placed the tip in her mouth, leaning over to peek at the envelope.

“What is it, Grandfather?” she wondered, tilting her head to read the words.

Ebizo stroked his long beard.

“She is very much like her grandmother,” Ebizo murmured. He chuckled as he handed the letter over to Karui.

Karui’s fist rose to cover her mouth as she read through the contents of the letter. And then a laugh spurted out of her too.

“Oh, I wish I could see the expression on Prince Baki’s face. How terrible this is,” Karui sighed. She lowered the letter into her lap. “What will you do, Grandfather?”

Ebizo clucked his tongue. He held his hand out. With a guilty smile, Karui returned his pipe.

“The situation is actually quite straightforward. She’s made a reasonable request. And it will cost me very little to indulge her,” he mused.

“I thought she was just a military woman. I’m surprised to see such a cunning scheme from her,” Karui commented, looking down at the letter again. She blinked when Ebizo tapped his knuckles against the top of her head.

“Silly child. Do you think that branch of the family has survived so long in hostile lands simply by waving a sword around?” he scolded her. Karui rubbed her head, even though it hadn’t hurt at all. She blinked.

“I supposed not,” Karui said.

++++

Konohamaru swiveled his head around to check the alley behind him for what felt like the hundredth time. It hadn’t been easy to pin down a meeting with this person. And he wasn’t even certain if this was the person he needed to talk to.

Pulling his hood a little closer to his face, he ducked into the seedy little bar deep in the heart of the slums. Wary eyes fell on him when the door creaked. They followed him as he made his way to the bartender, an older woman with an eyepatch.

“Beat it if you don’t have any money, kid. This isn’t a charity,” the bartender grumbled.

But her visible eye widened when he pushed a golden coin across the counter towards her.

“I’d like to take some singing lessons,” he whispered. The bartender glared at him as she lifted the coin to her mouth. She bit down hard before she scrutinized the coin. And then she jerked her head for him to follow. Konohamaru looked around. When he couldn’t find a place to enter, he ducked under the bar to follow the woman past the wooden barrels of alcohol. To a small door in the back.

The bartender knocked in a peculiar pattern. There was a pause. And then a voice came from within.

“What?”

“You got a guest.”

“…Let the kid in.”

The bartender muttered something about being “full of herself”. She said nothing to Konohamaru as she hobbled her way back to the bar.

Konohamaru stared at the worn doorknob. He closed his hand around it and pushed. The door opened with little noise.

“You found the place alright. Not bad.”

It was just a dusty little room filled with barrels and shelves. There was a bed wedged into the corner, as if someone had squeezed it in last-minute. The woman sat at the foot of the bed. A lute case lay open behind her.

“You’re… the court musician,” Konohamaru said. But it was more of a question than anything.

Tenten leaned back on her palm, smiling. “Yeah.”

Konohamaru frowned. “How do I know I can trust you?”

It had been difficult to even find the musician in the first place. He knew there were messengers who ran for the General when she was in the capital. It had taken every moment of his spare time for a week to find one of them. And once he located the messenger, it had taken almost all of the money the General had given him to convince the man to point him in the direction of this tiny bar that didn’t even have a sign out front.

“A good question. And how do I know I can trust you, kid?” she wondered in return.

“I… I want to help the General,” he stated, a little helplessly. Because he had nothing else to support him. No documents, not that he could read anyway. No seal or ring to prove that he served someone more powerful than him.

Tenten tilted her head to the side as she appraised him.

“I’ve seen you tending the General’s horse. You really like her, don’t you?” she observed.

Konohamaru nodded.

“I owe the General. She picked me up when I was just some urchin who could sing. I’m not dumb enough to bite the hand that feeds,” Tenten then assured him. And then she sat up straight.

“So. What is this message you need to get to her?”

Konohamaru hesitated. And then he spoke. “Prince Naruto came to me in secret. He paid me to send word to Lieutenant General Inuzuka. I heard the Lieutenant General talk about how someone is shooting down… messenger birds? I don’t know why. But it has to do with the prince. And then he said he needed to send word quickly.”

Tenten scratched her arm as she took that in. “Well. Sounds like he’s going to tell the General, doesn’t it? Why come all the way here?” And then her hand stilled when she met Konohamaru’s eyes. He stared at her.

Tenten laughed. “Oh. You already know not to trust these people.” She tilted her head from side to side as she considered things. And then she got to her feet.

“Things are getting stale in the capital anyway. I might as well pay her a visit,” she decided.

Konohamaru fumbled when she suddenly reached inside her pocket and flicked him something. It was a silver coin.

“Thanks for the tip. But don’t give away this kind of stuff for free anymore. If you’ve got something I don’t have, you can profit in some way,” she advised him.

Tenten rode out of the city at dawn the next day. She joined up with a few merchants making their way up to Whitewave. She offered them a little coin to let her ride on the back of one of their wagons. She played songs to help pass the time. And by the time they arrived at the port city, the merchants were sad to see her go.

The city of Whitewave was run by Countess Inuzuka, an outspoken supporter of the General. The strong tie between the two women was reflected in their trade relations. The city was filled with exotic fruits and teas found nowhere else in the kingdom. It only took a day or so to find cheap passage to the Southern Tea Isle. In exchange, all Tenten had to do was play a few songs here and there to keep morale of the sailors up.

When Tenten arrived on the island, storm clouds hovered over the trees. She kept her head down and booked a room in one of the island’s more run-down taverns called The Sailor’s Rest. It wasn’t empty, but it also wasn’t crowded. As she climbed the stairs up to her room, Tenten noticed a few men occupying a table in the back. One of them eyed her in a sharp way, eyes narrowing behind his glasses. She made a note to herself not to linger too long here.

It almost didn’t surprise her when she realized that the General wasn’t here. It wasn’t like her to be quiet for so long. And she usually visited the mainland for a few months every year.

Tenten leaned against the bar in the Sailor’s Rest as she considered her options.

It was quite natural for most people to relay information to Admiral Haruno. The General’s cousin was well-known as her close confidante. Those who wished to curry favor with the General usually started with the Admiral first. But when she asked around, she found that the Admiral was quite busy. And with the General absent, there was no guarantee that any news would reach her quickly.

She tapped her fingers once. The bartender slid a tankard over to her. She nodded in his direction.

The man who had stared at her earlier was nowhere in sight. But at the same table was a huge, blue man. He offered her a smile, nodding before he turned his attention elsewhere. Tenten’s eyes narrowed when, a few minutes later, he made his way over to her.

“I’m not interested,” she stated before he could set his drink down.

The large man appraised her. Laughed.

“No offense. You’re an attractive woman. But that’s not it,” he replied. And then he offered his free hand.

Tenten stared at it. She considered swatting it away. She decided to shake it.

“Kisame Hoshigaki, handsome marauder and outlaw,” he introduced himself. And then he thought before he added, “Been working as the General’s security these days.”

She toyed with the idea of giving him a fake name. But she decided against it.

“Tenten.”

Leaning his elbow on the bar, Kisame jerked his chin toward her.

“You looking for her?” he questioned.

Tenten studied the man for a long moment. He was huge. The hand on his tankard made it look like a child’s cup. And that hand could easily bash her skull in. But then she had also noticed the way people who passed him greeted him with “Howzit, Big Blue” and “Hey there, brother”. Those sorts of greetings didn’t roll off the tongue overnight.

“Maybe,” Tenten responded.

She flinched back a little when the mercenary reached for his belt. He froze. Paused to give a pointed look, as if to reassure her. And then he rummaged around in the pouches on his belt until he produced a small gold ring. He could squeeze it onto his finger if he had to. But it was annoying to have anything on his hands, so he just carried it around on a gold chain instead. He handed the ring to her, keeping the chain looped around a couple of his fingers.

Tenten scrutinized the desert rose engraved into the gold.

“Never thought I’d see the day the General hired a mercenary,” she murmured. She handed the ring back to him.

Kisame flashed his pointy teeth.

“People keep saying that. It’s starting to hurt my feelings a little,” he replied.

Tenten glanced around the tavern. She tapped the bar a few times.

“Not here,” she declared. “Maybe the palace.”

Kisame snorted. “No.” He read the expression on her face and smiled again. “I know you want the palace because you want witnesses in case I try to kill you. But it’s not exactly the best place to exchange secrets right now,” he explained.

Tenten’s forehead wrinkled.

“The docks at dawn? The fishermen will be out then. Too far to eavesdrop. But close enough to see if either of us tries to stab the other,” Kisame suggested instead. He pointed at his chest, at the exact spot where Tenten had hidden a knife. She refused to give him the satisfaction of looking down at herself. It was a well-concealed weapon. This man was even more dangerous than he appeared if he could figure that out just from a short conversation like this one.

Tenten’s eyes narrowed as she held the mercenary’s gaze.

When she gave him a stiff nod, Kisame looked satisfied. He told the bartender to get her another drink on his tab before he walked away. Tenten left the drink untouched, slipping out of the tavern as quietly as possible.

At dawn, Tenten was already at the docks, concealed in the shadows of one of the stalls that had closed for the night. She could see the huge mercenary standing there, shifting his weight from foot to foot. There was another man standing some distance away. Just in case they were planning an ambush, she kicked at a rock, sending it skittering across the path. Both men turned toward the sound. She was too far away to hear, but she could see Kisame turn toward the other man to say something. The second man departed with a wave of his hand. She couldn’t tell whether the wave was for Kisame or for her.

“The General mentioned she had a musician wandering around the capital. That’s you?” he said in greeting when she finally joined him. She stood a good distance away, her arms folded across her chest.

“Where is she?” Tenten asked.

Kisame sighed. “If she didn’t tell you, I sure as hell won’t.”

Tenten clicked her tongue. She couldn’t help but approve a little. She tried not to show it in her face.

“Can you read?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Kisame answered.

She handed a note over to him. “Stableboy at Whiteriver Keep got wind of some strange happenings. Kid felt worried enough to come find me.”

Kisame unfolded the paper and read through the contents. His expression didn’t change. And when he finished reading, he tore up the paper and tossed it into the ocean.

“Lots of strangeness going around lately,” he grumbled.

Tenten stole a glance at the mercenary. At least he wasn’t asking stupid questions. She noticed a pebble at her feet. She nudged it into the water.

“Anything else?” he asked.

Tenten sniffed, unfolding and refolding her arms. “Don’t think so. I saw them bring more birds in. Lots of them. So seems like Little Namikaze isn’t lying about that, at least.”

Kisame paused mid-stretch as he took that in. Frowning, he turned to look at Tenten. She stared right back. Arching an eyebrow.

“They brought in more birds,” he repeated.

She nodded. “Crows from the north. Doves from the east. They do doves here don’t they?”

“So if they had to send more doves to Whiteriver, folks here would know…” mused Kisame, trying to put the pieces together.

Tenten didn’t quite follow his line of thinking. “Someone has to sign off. So… whoever’s in charge while the General’s gone, I guess.”

Kisame’s eyes narrowed. “Then there’s no way they wouldn’t notice something like this unless they were signing off with their eyes closed.”

Tenten’s arms dropped.

“Are you saying that-”

“She knows. The aunt knows and she hasn’t said anything,” Kisame declared, glaring out at the ocean now. He heaved a sigh, rubbing his hand across his forehead. “General’s not going to take this news well.”

Tenten’s eyes widened. “Lieutenant General Inuzuka said he would write to the Admiral about this,” she recalled.

“He won’t pass it to the General. That kid is right in his mother’s pocket. If the aunt isn’t telling her, then the cousin won’t either,” Kisame pointed out. Pressing his knuckles to his mouth, he continued staring out at the water. The sun was beginning to peer over the horizon now. The bottom of the black sky began to glow orange and red.

Tenten jolted a little when the mercenary’s eyes suddenly fell on her.

“This conversation didn’t happen,” he warned her.

Tenten smirked. “The General pays me too well for me to remember any of her secrets,” she assured him. But Kisame didn’t smile.

“I hope you forget this quick then.”

Tenten folded her arms again. “You really like her too, huh?” She glanced over him, noted the scars on his wrists.

“I’ve seen those before on slaves from the south. They had you in the fighting pits?” she observed.

Kisame rubbed his wrists. “Not for long,” he assured her. “You’d be surprised how easy it is to break through chains when you really want to bash someone’s head in.”

They stood there, staring out at the water for another moment.

++++

“I’m confused. So we’re not going home?” Kankuro wondered, hugging a pillow to his chest as he sat down. On the other side of the room, Gaara leaned against the lid of one of the trunks they had been filling with various clothes and souvenirs they had gathered during their time in the Viper’s Fang. All the gifts provided by Prince Baki had been placed in a separate pile. Kankuro kicked at some of the objects in that pile whenever he walked past.

“It all depends. But no. That’s not in the plan for now,” answered Sakura, leaning on her hand. She sorted through the letters she had spent the morning writing. Each one sealed with her ring. Temari had gone out to mail the first batch a little while ago. She would be back to send the others soon. Normally this was a task left for servants. But Sakura wanted to be sure that these letters made it to their destination quickly.

“What’s the atmosphere like in the palace, Meno?” asked Sakura.

Meno paused while folding one of Sakura’s robes for travel.

“Prince Baki is in meetings with his advisors much of the time. Consort Hoki interrogated the servants to identify which concubines aided Concubine Deba when she destroyed your property, General,” Meno reported.

“Any word on their punishment?”

“No, General. For now, Concubine Deba had the servants and guards confiscate their possessions to be appraised,” added Meno.

“For what?” Kankuro scoffed, stretching out onto his back and staring up at the gilded ceiling. “They destroyed something priceless. That’s like trying to fill up a bottomless pit with gold.”

“I suppose it’s more of a gesture. Shijima’s trying to show that she’s taking this situation seriously,” Sakura guessed. And then she smiled a little. “She really is a smart girl. It’s a shame that that’s gone unrecognized for so long in this place.”

Since Sakura was “furious”, it made no sense for Shijima to wander in and out of her quarters anymore. And while she wasn’t lonely with her cousins beside her, Sakura worried about Shijima. With the huge upset in the power structure of the harem, all Shijima would have to do is seize control. With Prince Baki in a foul mood, not many of the concubines would be brave enough to try any underhanded tactics for a little while. Still, Sakura knew how daunting it could be to do something like this. She hoped that the few allies Shijima had made in the harem were serving her well now.

As Shijima seized control of the harem from within, Sakura’s letters spread to all the cities with relationships to the Haruno family. Of course Princess Mei would be one of the first to receive word of the great offense Prince Baki and his wives had struck against her. Sakura was aware that Mei’s relationship with Baki was all about business. When forced to choose between Baki and the Haruno family, Mei was certain to choose the Haruno’s. It wasn’t just about distant family relations. It was about profit as well. Baki controlled some trade routes to the east. But the Haruno family’s access to gold and marble, as well as their vast network of connections to other cities in the Arids made them a better investment.

An added bonus was that Shijima had expressed discomfort at the relationship between Mei and Baki. Mei had mentioned once that she had a son by Baki, which ensured that he would never raise a hand against her city. After all, what kind of father would try to harm his own son? Mei was adamant that she had no other interest in the man. But if it bothered Shijima, then this was one way to solve the problem.

The other cities would face a similar dilemma. If the Haruno family was cutting ties with the Viper’s Fang, what would they do?

The Haruno family had spent generations marrying its children into the various cities surrounding them. And because blood must always be honored, there would be very few in their right mind who would choose to turn their back on a Haruno.

Baki was likely meeting with his advisors, who would push him to try to salvage the relationship with Prince Ebizo’s grand-niece before it was too late. But Baki’s pride would prove a stumbling block, just as she had predicted would happen.

It didn’t take long for messengers to begin pouring into the Viper’s Throat. They carried letters with seals of all different colors and patterns.

Prince Byakuren apologized for the conduct of Concubine Toge, one of Deba’s strongest supporters. Her father had been removed from his position as ambassador and was reflecting on his failure to raise a good daughter. Byakuren sent along jewels, as well as a written vow that he would always remain an ally of the Haruno family.

Prince Ibushi to the southwest disavowed Prince Baki for his lack of respect for traditions. He expressed mortification that he had ever shared a meal with such a man. He explained that the Viper’s Fang would no long be welcome to conduct trade through their port city.

Sakura recalled a battle a few years ago. It was towards the end of the war with Sound Country. With winter closing in, bringing with it the promise of frostbite, Shikamaru had proposed a plan that had sounded impossible at the time.

Rather than attack the main garrison of enemy troops, he had proposed ambushing the cities and roads that provided supplies. It had been a risky maneuver. But they had divided their remaining soldiers and disrupted Sound Country’s supply lines. That was how they had taken one of the biggest fortresses in the country and turned the tides of war in their favor.

Politics was like war in many ways. Maybe people did a little less stabbing, but the outcome was the same. Some people lived. Others died. And all it took was one mistake to break whatever careful balance there was.

There were, of course, some cities who remained silent. None of them would be foolish enough to criticize Sakura outright. But pressure from the surrounding cities would be enough to change their minds in time.

When word came from Karo a few days later, Sakura had to read the letter twice. Just to make sure she hadn’t misunderstood.

Prince Ebizo was disappointed to learn that Prince Baki was not the wise man that rumors suggested. Ebizo urged Sakura to return to Karo and not to suffer discomfort for an instant longer than necessary. He also mentioned that with the souring of this relationship, naturally Sakura could not accept the troops Baki had promised.

“What? But you need those soldiers, don’t you, Lady Sakura?” Temari read over her shoulder.

Sakura sighed as she tried to piece together what Ebizo meant.

“I think… I think that Great-Uncle is suggesting that if I were to refuse those troops… it would be another blow to Prince Baki’s reputation. Because he would be unable to honor a promise he made to me,” Sakura guessed.

“That is a very serious issue here. It might ruin him completely,” Kankuro agreed, looking a little too happy about the prospect.

There was one letter that arrived that put a damper on things.

It was from the city of Solace. To the north. Where Mei’s stepbrother Ao ruled.

Prince Ao sent his regrets at the misfortune that had befallen her. But due to the poor harvest in the north this year, he was unable to cut ties with Prince Baki. He reminded Sakura of how Baki was technically a cousin to her, and suggested that she try to find forgiveness in her heart, which was the mark of a good ruler.

“He must be out of his mind. He’s being deliberately disrespectful,” Kankuro complained.

Sakura tossed the letter on the table with a noise of disgust.

“Well… that was unpleasant,” she remarked.

“Why did you stop, Lady Sakura? There’s more,” Gaara wondered, reaching for the later. He turned pale as he read the final paragraph that Sakura had omitted. Temari grasped his shoulder to steady him.

“What is it?” demanded Kankuro. He grabbed Gaara’s arm to bring the letter closer to him.

“…Father’s in Solace,” Kankuro realized as he read.

“I wonder what he’s said about Lady Sakura. And about us. No wonder Prince Ao seems less than fond of us,” Temari said, her face grim. She moved to put her arm around Gaara’s shoulders instead.

“I’ll inform Great-Uncle. Perhaps there’s something he can do to chastise that man,” muttered Sakura, already thinking of what to write. When she looked up, biting the tip of her thumb, she spotted Gaara’s panicked expression. Her face softened.

She reached across the table to grasp Gaara’s hand. Her eyes were still unfocused. But he squeezed back.

“He’s far from you. He can’t hurt you,” she assured him. Gaara nodded. But he didn’t look convinced.

Along with Ebizo’s letter came an envoy who bowed deeply.

“Since your needs are not being met here, His Highness has commanded me to find housing for you in the city until safe passage to Karo can be arranged,” he reported.

Sakura gazed past the man, to Meno dusting in the corner. When Sakura met her eyes, Meno turned to glance at the door. Then looked back to her. Sakura nodded. She watched Meno gather some dirty linens in a basket before she made her way out. Hopefully the rumor would spread through the palace quickly.

Returning her gaze to the envoy, Sakura smiled.

“I’ll trust your judgment. Please inform my Great-Uncle that I am thankful for his care and kindness,” answered Sakura. The envoy nodded, bowing once again.

That night, Azra and Esma cleared away the bowls and cups from their evening meal.

Sakura had stopped dining with Prince Baki for obvious reasons. She even refused food from the palace’s kitchen. Instead, she sent the twins out to buy food from the market each day. They always returned with grilled meats and fresh bread. They tried to find something new, although Sakura assured them that she wasn’t so picky. When they counted out the change, Sakura pushed it back into their hands.

“Would you like tea? Some more wine?” Azra asked.

“No. You haven’t had a chance to eat yet, have you? Go,” Sakura urged, sending the girls out with impatient pushing motions. The twins smiled as they lifted the trays and made their way out of the room.

Heaving a sigh, Sakura leaned her head back on the couch. Her cousins were out for a walk to help them digest the heavy meal. Their company was nice. It would have been difficult to be away from home for so long if not for them. But a moment of silence was also something she looked forward to every now and then.

She heard the door open.

“What is it?”

“The security of this place is really terrible,” Suigetsu complained, not for the first time, lowering his hood. He crossed the room to hand over a folded piece of paper. And then he helped himself to rest of her wine.

It was a message from Shijima. Thanks to that lax security, Suigetsu and Mangetsu were able to slip in and out of the harem to deliver notes like this one.

“Listen to this,” Sakura said as she read. Suigetsu turned to her, still gulping.

“Prince Baki has been in a foul temper these days. He summoned me, demanding to know how to ‘fix that woman’s mood’. I appeared, shed some tears, and insisted that I was trying my best. I’m beginning to think that you might be right. He is not a bad man, but not very clever.”

Suigetsu choked on the wine. Wiping his chin with the back of his hand, he coughed and laughed at the same time.

“She sounds like you,” he pointed out, thumping his fist against his chest.

Sakura skimmed over the rest of the message. She crumpled it into her palm to burn later.

“M’Lady,” Suigetsu called, suddenly serious. Her eyes fell on him.

“Have you gotten any sleep?”

The nightmares had crept up on her. It was so sudden that she had almost felt bewildered by their return. But once they settled back into her skull, it was like they had never left in the first place.

She knew that it was stress. The unfamiliar environment. And even as she dreamt, she was frustrated by her lack of control over her own mind.

Swords dripped blood onto rotting corpses. And everywhere she roamed, whether it was on charred battlefields or barren cities, she could hear sobbing. As constant as the chorus of crickets during the summer.  

She jerked awake in the darkness, her heart racing. And if there was someone else in the room, her mind automatically screamed ‘enemy’ without giving the rest of her a chance to catch up. Temari nearly went blind one night when she burst into the room, hearing strange noises. Luckily, the dagger missed and hit the door instead. From that point on, Sakura laid down a strict rule that no one was to disturb her at night.

Mangetsu broke the rule. A lot.

When Sakura woke shouting about someone bleeding out. Ordering someone to put pressure on the wound, because soon the number of corpses would outnumber the living who had to carry them. Sweat drenched her shirt and her hair. And she whipped around as she heard a sound at the window. Mangetsu had opened it from the outside. He pocketed his knife that he had used to wedge the lock open.

“Sleep. I’ll just sit here,” he said, settling in a chair in the corner of the room.

She was too exhausted for anger. She wiped her hand across her forehead.

“What?”

“I’ll just be here. Go back to sleep, M’Lady,” Mangetsu repeated. He idly flicked a bit of sand off his clothes. And when Sakura glared at him, Mangetsu pointed toward the door, where Suigetsu was probably standing watch.

“Has the same thing. It’s better when someone’s in the room with him. I figured I could do the same for you,” the mercenary explained.

Sakura considered throwing him out. But she had spent enough time with Mangetsu and Suigetsu. If she removed him, he would find another way back in. It wasn’t worth arguing with him about this.

It was easier than she thought to fall asleep with him watching her from the corner of the room. Maybe because she was used to him walking past the room at night on his patrols. She had never asked either of the brothers to watch her room so closely. And she had never asked them to confront the palace guards who spoke ill of her. Neither of them had mentioned the latter to her. It was only because Meno and the twins had whispered it to her during a rare moment when both of the mercenaries were out of the room. The rumors were likely exaggerated. But Sakura was confident that it was true that Suigetsu had taken down a guard twice his size. She was less confident that the guard had burst into tears.

She slept a little. It wasn’t perfect. She still jerked awake a few times. But the haunting wails that pierced her ears were a little easier to ignore when in her half-woken daze, she heard a soft sigh and “It’s not real. Try to sleep some more”.

In the morning, when she crawled out of bed, the chair in the corner was empty. And Mangetsu said nothing to her about where he had spent his night, as if it had never happened in the first place.

As Shijima had mentioned in her note, she was kneeling in front of the doors that led to the northern wing of the palace. When the doors opened up, Sakura hesitated. As if surprised to see Shijima sitting there. And then she resumed speaking to Temari as she walked right past the consort. Kankuro and Gaara stared at Shijima. They exchanged looks and then watched Sakura continue down the hall.

“Sorry,” Gaara whispered before they hurried to catch up to Sakura.

“I know what she’s doing. Suddenly extending an olive branch will only undermine her at this point,” Sakura assured Temari once they were out of the palace. She adjusted the shawl that covered her hair.

They didn’t actually have much business in the city. However, it was important that Prince Baki think that they did. They checked the post station to see if any messengers had arrived with news from out west. They relaxed at the bathhouse, ate street foot standing in the shade of a tall building, and then visited a few vendors to browse the shiny wares they had on sale.

By the time they returned to the Viper’s Fang, night had fallen. And Shijima was still kneeling in front of those double doors.

Sakura ignored her again as she swept past.

“Have one of the girls pour some of that wine we purchased. The day has been hot and I’m quite thirsty,” Sakura remarked.

Temari glanced at Shijima. But her steps didn’t falter as she continued after Sakura.

“Of course, Lady Sakura,” Temari replied.

In the morning, Suigetsu tapped on the door to Sakura’s room. Just enough to wake her that she didn’t draw a weapon on him when he stepped inside.

“You know that she’s still out there,” he said, without greeting. He glanced at the empty chair in the corner. Mangetsu had slipped out a little while ago. Suigetsu seemed to know of the arrangement. But like his brother, he made no comment about it.

“Who?” asked Sakura, raking her hands through her tangled hair.

“Shij- The Consort. Whatever.”

Sakura’s hands froze.

“You mean that she’s returned this morning?”

“No. She went somewhere for a few minutes during the night. But then she came right back. Probably went to the…” Suigetsu trailed off and Sakura caught his meaning. Her hands dropped into her lap.

“So she’s been there a full day? Without eating?”

Suigetsu rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. “I mean, I haven’t seen anything. Maybe she snuck in a meal during those few minutes? I wouldn’t put it past you nobles. You’re all kind of crazy,” he answered.

Sakura closed her eyes, thinking. She exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. She reached her arm for something, pointing. Suigetsu followed the line of her arm until he spotted her robe draped over the back of her chair. A year ago, he would have balked at the thought of being ordered around like this.

Snickering a little at himself, Suigetsu plucked the robe off the chair and draped it over Sakura’s shoulders. She pulled her arms through without thanks. She opened her eyes. They were bloodshot and a little puffy. When Suigetsu pointed to them, Sakura swatted his finger away. She pressed the backs of her hands to her eyelids. Suigetsu’s smile faded as he examined her face.

“What’s the reason why you don’t want to sleep?” he suddenly wondered.

She lowered her hands a little. “What do you mean?”

“Are you scared of your dreams? You know they can’t hurt you,” Suigetsu told her. While he was smiling, it wasn’t a mocking expression. Sakura held his gaze for an extra moment, lowering her hands all the way now.

“No. I’m scared of who I am inside them,” she answered.

Suigetsu was quiet. He nodded.

“Better scared than dead,” he pointed out before he stepped out of the room.

Shijima raised her head when the double doors rumbled open. Sakura took a step out, arms folded across her chest. Her hair was loose. She was still in her nightgown with just a robe thrown on top.

“What is the meaning of this?” demanded Sakura without greeting.

Shijima lowered her head again.

Shijima had informed her in a short message that she would be putting on some sort of scene. Sakura hadn’t realized that she would push her body so far.

“Please don’t leave, General. I realize that you are rightfully upset. But please reconsider,” Shijima requested, staring at the floor.

“And you think this will change my mind somehow? Kneeling here?”

There were bound to be guards or servants hiding somewhere nearby. Sakura kept her tone cold, her gaze sharp.

“It seems you intend to starve yourself on my doorstep. You must not realize that someone like me is quite familiar with death. Do as you please,” Sakura stated before she slipped back inside. The doors slamming shut behind her.

Sakura walked past Shijima again on her way out into the city. When she returned in the evening, Shijima still knelt there, her face haggard. Sakura didn’t speak to her. Safely inside her room, Sakura turned to Gaara. She put her hands on his shoulders.

“You’ve always been friendly with her, so it will be less suspicious. Sneak outside later and bring the poor girl something to eat. And some water,” Sakura instructed. Gaara nodded. He cast a look of concern toward the door.

But when Gaara returned, he shook his head.

“She refused.”

Sakura sat down. She clenched her jaw. Lifting her fist to her mouth, she pressed her knuckles to her lips.

“She’ll hurt herself,” Temari worried too.

“She must have a plan. She’s not that stupid is she?” Kankuro leaned his elbow on the back of the couch as he spoke.

“She must. But…” Sakura trailed off. She looked up when Gaara crossed the room. He sat at her feet, grasping her free hand.

“We should trust her. She must know what she’s doing,” Gaara urged. She looked down at his face. When had he grown up so much? It took a moment. But a faint smile appeared on her face. She pulled her hand free of his to pat his cheek.

“Yes. I suppose so,” she agreed.

That night, Sakura slept even more fitfully than usual. She was startled awake by someone yelling her name too close to her. Her eyes flew open to find Mangetsu’s face above her. She moved to push him away, but her arm jerked to a stop. It took her a moment to take in the situation.

Mangetsu’s hands gripped her wrists, holding them above her head. And before she could rebuke him, she felt the shape and weight of a knife in her hand. In both of them, actually. She slowly relaxed her fingers and wrists. Let the blades fall harmlessly onto the bed. Mangetsu stared her right in the eyes. Whatever he read there seemed like enough. He let out a sigh of relief as he released her. Sakura flexed her hands, rubbing her reddened wrists. They would probably bruise.

“Sorry. You woke swinging knives and I had to,” he muttered, taking a few steps back.

Sakura nodded. She tried to calm her shallow breaths as she sat up. She turned her head away from him, fist pressed to her forehead. It was mortifying enough for someone to witness this. Somehow his lack of judgment made it all the more embarrassing.

The door opened.

“You don’t look like you’re going back to sleep this time.”

“So you’re both just walking in and out as you wish now,” Sakura growled as she recognized Suigetsu’s voice.

“Come on, M’Lady. Let me show you something nice,” Suigetsu said, ignoring her glare. He picked up her falchion propped up in the corner by the bed.

“What nonsense are you saying in the middle of the night?” she sighed. “Put my sword back.”

Suigetsu’s tone changed. He was serious now. “M’Lady.” He waited until she was looking at him properly. “I don’t know a lot of things. But this… I know this.”

So Sakura followed Suigetsu outside, into the courtyard. Mangetsu trailed after them, an odd smile on his lips, as if he were in on some kind of joke.

He tossed Sakura her falchion. She kept it in the scabbard, regarding Suigetsu with suspicion. Suigetsu wielded his own weapon. And then he reached out toward his brother. Mangetsu unsheathed his sword and handed it over to Suigetsu with a pointed look.

Looking insulted, Suigetsu grumbled, “I’ll be careful. I’ve only dropped it once…. twice.”

And then he turned to Sakura with a grin.

“I’ve seen you fight before. With all those fancy twirls. It’s stupid.”

Suigetsu was brutal. He lunged and slashed in the moments when she felt most vulnerable. And just when she felt like she might be able to catch her breath, he was attacking again. There was no question that Suigetsu’s fighting style was unrefined and nonsensical at times. But it was something that was born out of necessity, not flair. So what it lacked in showmanship it more than made up in efficiency. She managed to get in some good maneuvers here in there, but by the end of the round, she felt somewhat like a fox being chased down by a pack of particularly tenacious hounds.

“Sometimes…”  Suigetsu suddenly said, “It feels nice to just do something… and not to think. It helps.” He held his hand out to her.

Sakura searched his face. And then she almost smiled as she grasped his hand, letting him pull her up.

“I know what you mean,” she replied.

She washed up and fell back into bed for the little time left until dawn. She closed her eyes, still a little afraid to sleep. But exhaustion made it difficult for her to fight sleep for long. And mercifully, when she succumbed, it was to a dark, dreamless sleep. Kind and quiet like the bottom of the ocean.

A few hours later, Sakura was out of her bed. She opened up the doors to the north wing of the palace. Shijima still knelt there. Her movements were sluggish as she lifted her head. Sakura took a few steps forward. Stopped in front of her. And then she knelt, leaning in close.

“You’re not waiting for me, are you?” Sakura whispered.

Shijima glanced around. And then she offered Sakura a tiny, secretive smile.

Sakura lifted her head a little. She pulled a wineskin out of her cloak and tossed it in front of Shijima.

“Drink. Or I really will leave today,” Sakura ordered.

Shijima opened the cap and took a sip of the water. And then she another. Soon, she was gulping down every last drop in the container. When she looked up to Sakura, wiping her chin on the back of her hand, Sakura was holding out an orange.

“You must realize that this is ridiculous, Consort Hoki,” Sakura chastised as she watched Shijima peel the orange. But her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn’t do it. Clucking her tongue, Sakura reached out to peel the fruit for her. She handed the segments to Shijima and watched her eat.

“What will happen if you leave this way? Doesn’t that doom this city?” Shijima worried, chewing as she spoke.

Cheek in her hand, Sakura tilted her head as she thought.

“Doom is a strong word.”

Shijima looked relieved.

“But not wholly inaccurate.”

Shijima looked even more concerned than before.

“His contacts to the east will continue to deal with him. Largely because of you, actually. You do know that marrying you has made that man richer than he could have ever hoped?” Sakura pointed out. And though she had mentioned this to Shijima before, perhaps the wording struck a chord within her. Because Shijima’s eyes widened.

“His standing out here will certainly change, however. I’ve persuaded my Great-Uncle not to declare war, which is a good thing. Great-Uncle hates conflict, but his heir doesn’t,” Sakura went on. Her eyes darted to the presence she had noticed hiding further down the corridor. The servant girl ducked behind the column, likely praying that Sakura hadn’t spotted her.

“I’ll tell you something good because I personally like you, Consort Hoki. The Arids have been peaceful for so long for two reasons,” Sakura said, holding two fingers up. “The first is that the major cities have intermarried so much that there are few of us who cannot call each other ‘cousin’. And second is that most of the cities here are of similar standing. Or they are allied with someone who can protect them. It’s usually the weakest in a pack that gets swallowed by predators, after all.”

Sakura could see the words settling into Shijima’s head. The girl turned pale.

“So if The Viper’s Throat falls-” Shijima whispered.

“Predators will fall on it like vultures on carrion,” Sakura finished the thought for her.

This wasn’t something she had gone over with Shijima beforehand. She hadn’t wanted this reaction to feel rehearsed in any way. And perhaps it was a little cruel. Sakura wouldn’t abandon Shijima in the middle of such a risky affair, but the girl had no way of knowing that. They had only known each other for a short time.

With the consequences hanging over her head, Shijima would be pushed to be think a little harder and to speak with more conviction. And from the way that the servant girl went sprinting down the hall, perhaps Baki would realize just how badly things could go if he continued to cling to his pride.

“You can kneel here for as long as you wish, Consort. But I am returning to my Great-Uncle’s city in a week’s time. As soon as all my affairs are put into order. And you can continue to kneel here once I’m gone for all I care,” Sakura concluded, rising to her full height. As the double doors closed, Sakura turned around to look at Shijima. She offered her a glimpse of a smile before the doors separated them again. She hoped that the girl would be smart enough to put together a good strategy. Sakura had set her up with some strong pieces, but there was only so much she could do from behind for her.

Later that morning, Azra and Esma whispered to Sakura that there was some sort of commotion. They guided her by the hand to a secret passage hidden behind a large urn. She had always felt suspicious of the placement of the ostentatious decoration. But she was thankful for it now when the twins guided her into the narrow space. It led them an oddly-shaped space. When Azra pointed to a set of tiny holes, Sakura was confused. Esma mimed cupping her hands around one ear. So Sakura leaned in closer, pressing her ear against the holes.

“I’ve had enough of this spectacle. Get up this instant, Consort Hoki.”

It was Prince Baki’s voice.

When Sakura looked to the twins, Azra nodded furiously. Sakura pointed at the other holes on the wall. She motioned for the girls to join her. Eyes glittering, they squished in with her to listen in on the conversation.

“I will kneel here for as long as it takes for the General to quell her anger, My Lord,” Shijima replied. Sakura smiled at how confident Shijima sounded.

“Forget that woman. She’ll be leaving soon. You should be thinking of how this affects my reputation,” Baki grumbled.

Sakura scoffed. So did Esma.

“I am thinking of your reputation, My Lord. If relations with the Haruno family truly remain this way, it will affect every part of your reputation. Surely you realize this.”

“Do not nag me, Consort Hoki. Don’t think as if you know everything just because you’ve spent some time with that woman.”

Sakura shook her head. She had no idea what Shijima saw in that bull-headed man. She had asked Shijima on multiple occasions whether this was the path she really wanted to choose. It would be a simple affair to have them divorce and to bring Shijima with her to Plumeria. They had no children, so the divorce could be on the basis that they had failed to produce a legitimate heir. One of Baki’s many concubines could be promoted to Consort instead. She would do well in the tropical climate. And there were so many nice young men she could introduce her to. Ones that would surely be head over heels for her. Unlike a certain stubborn fool.

“Maybe I should be nagging you. You haven’t handled things very well with my silence.”

That snapped Sakura right back to attention. Azra grabbed Esma’s hand, eyes wide.

“What was that?”

“You’ve never seen me as your consort. You allow your concubines to harass me. You exclude me from social events when I should be by your side. And all this time, I’ve held my tongue because I trusted that my lord husband would know what he was doing.”

Azra’s mouth fell open.

Sakura grimaced to herself. She couldn’t even begin to imagine the expression on Baki’s face. That was a bold criticism to unleash on anyone.

“I’m no longer a child. And you’re not the man I thought you were. I suppose it’s time for the both of us to face reality.”

Esma slapped her hands over Azra’s mouth. Sakura covered her own mouth with her hand. They waited for something else. But it was silent.

Just as Sakura began to worry that she might have to intervene, she heard noises again.

“Come with me,” Baki growled. And then footsteps began retreating across the stone. Hurried and sharp.

The following morning, Shijima arrived at the northern wing of the Viper’s Fang. Meno opened the door, bowed, and then disappeared to go inform Sakura of the visitor.

Sakura leaned against the inside of the door, staring out at Shijima. Because Shijima was rosy-faced and practically glowing with satisfaction. Sakura appraised her, sighed.

“What is it?” she demanded, still aware of the eyes all around the palace.

“I have a proposition from my lord husband,” Shijima announced.

Sakura folded her arms across her chest. “And where is this… lord husband of yours during such an important discussion?” she wondered.

Shijima gave an impish smile. “Still asleep. My lord is quite tired from… a long night,” she admitted, lowering her voice. Sakura had to fight the urge to smile right back. She turned on her heel instead.

“Come inside quickly. Don’t waste my time,” she retorted. The doors closed behind Shijima as she followed after her.

But as soon as the doors were gone, and Mangetsu confirmed that no one else was around, Sakura threw her arms around Shijima.

“Oh, well done, love. You’ve worked so hard,” Sakura said, her voice warm now.

And although Shijima had been smiling, the instant she heard those words, she burst into tears. Clinging on to the back of Sakura’s dress, she sobbed about how frightened she had been. How difficult it was to watch everyone who had once been so warm to her to act so cold now. Even if it was all just a show. Azra and Esma sniffled too as they set an extra place for Shijima at the breakfast table.

Teary-eyed and runny-nosed, Shijima took a sip of the tea they offered to her. She had cried even harder when Temari had rushed out in her nightgown to hug her too, starting the hysterics anew.

“Now. Eat something. You must be starving,” Sakura urged. Before she could move her hands, Gaara was already piling fruits and bread onto her plate. Kankuro refilled her teacup and added a bit of sugar.

“I… ate last night… with His Majesty,” she confessed, her eyes falling to the table.

“Is that all you did? Eat?” Kankuro probed.

Shijima erupted scarlet. Temari reached over to slap her brother on the arm while Sakura chuckled.

“So this is what you meant when you told me you learned things before you came here,” Sakura teased. Hands on her cheeks, Shijima peeked up at her. When she nodded, Kankuro burst out laughing. He fell against Gaara’s shoulder. Gaara had his face turned away to be polite, but from the way his shoulder’s shook, it was easy to see that he was laughing too.

“Mother told me many stories. I’d never… but I knew… so…”

As Shijima grew an even brighter shade of red, Kankuro took a sip of tea.

“Father had 8 concubines, so Mother had to be good at maintaining a household.”

Kankuro spat his tea out. And Sakura couldn’t even chastise him for his poor table manners because she was too busy coughing and choking on her tea too.

As it turned out, one of the skills Shijima’s mother had instilled in her was the art of good pillow talk. Whatever had transpired during the night had left Prince Baki quite open to suggestions. Shijima wormed her way into his thoughts, suggesting this and gently steering him away from that. While Shijima had struggled with dealing with other women, apparently she had little trouble with the opposite sex.

“So I suggested that all you really wanted was a fair punishment for Concubine Deba. And that if you were appeased, all the relations and diplomacy would go back to normal,” Shijima explained.

“What is ‘fair’ in your eyes then?” asked Sakura.

“Well… I knew Prince Baki wouldn’t want to execute Concubine Deba and her son. After all, that’s his son too. So I suggested stripping the son of his title and sending Concubine Deba away instead.”

Sakura nodded, examining the healing cuts on the back of her hand. “Why not send her to work for my Great-Uncle? Labor for her debts?”

“What about the other concubines? The ones that helped Deba?” prompted Temari.

“The same treatment. Prince Baki was hesitant at first. But then I assured him that our son would be the best successor,” Shijima said, placing her hand on her stomach.

“There’s no way of knowing that you are already…” Kankuro trailed off, miming a rounded stomach with his hands.

“No. But… we have time. It will happen eventually. The women of my family are very fertile,” Shijima answered with confidence. “I also suggested that since I’d appraised the value of the goods I confiscated from the harem, that we could send them to the Haruno family as a gesture of apology and goodwill. It would cost Prince Baki no additional money and it would help smooth things over for now. Just like you said, General.”

Sakura nodded, her coughing finally under control.  

Gaara handed over her tea to help clear her throat. Sakura took a sip before she spoke again.

“You do realize that by not killing his sons you’re leaving a threat for the future,” Sakura warned, not for the first time.

Shijima nodded. “I don’t want to do it. It doesn’t feel right. Even if it means they’ll come back to challenge me. I’ll just have to work a little harder.”

Sakura looked down at her tea. She set it to the side. “I don’t know if it’s the right choice, but you’ve made it. And I respect that,” she admitted.

They went over some more details together. Sakura would send out a letter to Karo in a few more days outlining Shijima’s compromise. Another one would reach Hilal as well. From there, the rumors would spread. And Sakura would make every effort to ensure that Consort Hoki’s name was attached to the story.

Prince Baki was not a complicated man. Whatever Shijima’s mother had taught her was obviously effective against him. As the days went by, he was rarely seen without Shijima at his side. And when the concubines saw how much the prince favored the consort now, there was a mad scramble to try to get into her good graces. The servants as well were quick to change their allegiances.

With some persuasion on Shijima’s part, Prince Baki even apologized for the delay in handling such a terrible insult against her. It was interesting how much his gaze had changed in a matter of days. No longer were his stares directed at her. In fact, it seemed he was having trouble looking anywhere but at Shijima, which Sakura welcomed. And hanging on Baki’s arm, Shijima looked so happy that Sakura couldn’t find it in her to criticize the man too much.

“It’s quite alright. It’s all thanks to Consort Hoki that things were resolved so quickly,” Sakura commended instead.

And Baki looked over at Shijima to smile.

“Yes. She’s wise, isn’t she?” he answered.

But as Sakura prepared to move on to their next stop, the eastern kingdoms to the east of the Viper’s Throat, Sakura received a letter from Ebizo.

My dear,

I know it was your intention to visit the Qing Kingdom, but I must ask you to journey north instead.

Rasa’s influence over Prince Ao has become concerning for all of us. He has refused summons to return back to Karo. I would send troops there myself, but Prince Ao may see that as an act of aggression. Instead, I must request that you visit the city for yourself and handle Rasa as you see fit. He ceased to serve a purpose for us when you had him removed for your employ. You have dealt with the man for much longer than I have, so I will trust whatever judgment you pass.

Sakura burned the letter as quickly as she could.

When she read between the lines, she could see what her great-uncle was asking. If she found it necessary, she could eliminate Rasa completely. And that wasn’t something she wanted Temari and her siblings to have to confront.

Instead, she put on a smile as she informed her cousins that there was to be a change of plans. Kankuro was a bit disappointed that he wouldn’t get a chance to see the markets in the east. There were rumors of grand festivals that he had been looking forward to taking part in. And when Sakura revealed that they would be moving north instead, Gaara said nothing. His expression was tight though. Temari grabbed his hand. She motioned for Kankuro, who moved to grasp Gaara’s other hand.

“You can return to Karo first if you’d prefer. It should be a quick trip,” Sakura offered.

Heads close together, the siblings exchanged a few quiet words. Temari frowned as Gaara shook his head.

“We will be with you, Lady Sakura,” Gaara promised.

Sakura sent word ahead of her. Although she hadn’t actually been invited, Ao would have no choice but to open his arms to her if he didn’t want to suffer some sort of criticism from neighboring cities.

As they prepared the luggage and the gifts for their reluctant hosts, Baki invited Sakura to visit the barracks in the city with him. Kankuro and Temari were busy overseeing preparations, but Gaara was free to accompany her. He held her hand as they walked through the busy city. Mangetsu trailed a little ways behind them.

When they arrived at the barracks, they appeared to be running through drills. Sakura recognized the setup. Men lined up in a formation. A single man in front barking orders.

As Baki stepped onto the field, they stopped. The man in front was tall with shaggy white hair. He stood at attention, saluting as Baki approached him. He yelled an order. All the soldiers saluted in unison.

Smiling, Baki extended an arm to gesture towards the men.

“Your regiment, as promised, General,” he announced.

Sakura released Gaara’s hand. She crossed her arms behind her back as she turned her gaze to the men. “How many in total?”

“5000, as promised. And this is Commander Darui. My best,” Baki replied.

Sakura arched an eyebrow. “You’re giving away your best? Let’s not tell each other lies, Prince Baki,” Sakura retorted.

Baki’s smile faded a little. But he tried to reclaim the expression, laughing.

“Alright, you’ve caught me there. But Commander Darui is certainly one of the best. He will not fail you. And he speaks the language of the west, so you should have no discomfort communicating with him.”

Sakura looked Darui over. He kept his gaze on her feet.

“Do you have a problem serving under a woman?” she queried.

“No, Ma’am,” came his prompt reply.

“We’re going far from here. You will not return to these lands. Are you still willing?” she pressed.

He saluted. “I will follow you wherever, General. It is an honor.”

Sakura scrutinized his face. And then she laughed a little. “What an insincere reply. Well, you have some time to change your mind if necessary.”

Then she turned to face the soldiers still in formation.

“My travels will take me far from this land. If any of you are unwilling to follow me, be it family or an aversion to reporting to a woman, then I will not force you on this journey. We depart in a week. If you choose not to follow me, there will be no consequences. Take some time to make your decision,” she announced before clapping her hands once.

Without waiting for any input from the two men, Sakura began walking away from the barracks. Gaara hurried after her. But Mangetsu was already at her side, leaning in towards her to whisper.

“You shouldn’t have been so easy-going, M’Lady. You’ll lose some of them.”

Sakura leveled him with a look. As if she couldn’t believe his line of thinking.

“Good,” she replied, “I need troops to become my hands and feet, not a burden. I would rather leave any whining children behind.”

Mangetsu snickered, shaking his head a little.

“Then why are you bringing Suigetsu?” Gaara asked, grabbing onto Sakura’s sleeve as he finally caught up.

Mangetsu laughed even louder. And Sakura smiled too as they made their way onto the bustling city streets.

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<Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25>

#itasaku #courtly intrigue! au #fanfiction #amaryllis