#well maybe madara more cause the whole Uchiha clan had been judgementally eyeing him because of their childrens looks | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

raendown · 5 years ago

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Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 5280 Chapter: 29/42 Summary: Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. Some are fought at the conference table, with whispers in the shadows, or even in the bedroom.

In a world where the Senju and Uchiha traditional lands were too far apart to have ever made them enemies, Butsuma and Tajima are the ones who come together and sign a treaty of peace. Madara isn’t happy to have his life signed away for him in a political marriage to strengthen the bond between their clans. He is even less happy to have Tobirama make assumptions of him from their very first night together. What follows from there is a journey of healing, of learning, and finding the places to belong in the places least expected.

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Chapter 29

To say that Kagami did not take the news well would have been one of the biggest understatements Madara had heard in his lifetime. It would not have surprised him to learn that the broken-hearted crying was heard several streets away. Not to say that Kagami had broken down or thrown any sort of childish temper tantrum, he was too attached to his life goal of impressing Tobirama to do such things, but rather than his protests had taken the form of endless shouting; that he wanted to stay with Tobirama, that Tobirama meant so much to him, that he surely wouldn’t learn half as much from anyone else and didn’t want to besides. Watching his husband struggle not to let the pain show on his face had been surprisingly difficult.

More painful than that had been watching Tobirama struggle his way through trying to express how much he didn’t like this either. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that the two of them had forged quite a strong bond in only a few short months but Madara knew his husband was the sort to show how he felt through actions rather than words. Forcing himself to state his feelings out loud for young Kagami to hear must have taken quite a bit of strength.

When it became clear that there was nothing he could do to save himself from the doom of public education Kagami fled their home with shouts that if he couldn’t learn from Tobirama he refused to learn from anyone. Madara watched him go and thought it a small miracle there wasn’t a puddle left where he’d been standing from the sheer amount of tears he had shed. He kept his eyes on the door for a minute or so to allow Tobirama some time to compose himself. Only when he was sure there wouldn’t be any wet eyes in the room but his own did he turned and meet the other man’s despondent gaze.

“It had to come from you,” he murmured, knowing what was running through that genius idiot’s head.

“I broke his heart,” Tobirama said quietly. Madara sighed and stepped over to enclose them both in a tight hug.

“His heart was going to break either way. Best that he hears the news from you and knows that it was not your decision. At least this way he won’t think of it as you abandoning him.”

A shiver ran through the man in his arms and Madara sort of regretted saying that. Now Tobirama would probably spend the next few weeks feeling as though he had abandoned Kagami even though there really was nothing they could do to put things back to normal. As Tajima had said the day before, it was a clan Head’s right to decide what was best for the people under his command. Other than the council as a whole there was no higher power to appeal to and the idea of the haughty members of the council taking interest in the training of one Uchiha boy was laughable, unfortunately. They fancied themselves busy with much more important things.

Unsurprisingly, Tobirama spent much of the day moping. Since Madara couldn’t really blame him for it he chose instead to make himself scarce. He walked Tobirama to the laboratory under Touka’s home and gave as much of a lecture on safety as he had the heart for at the moment, earning himself a glare for the trouble, but he still didn’t understand enough about whatever crazy science went on down there to be sure that a moment’s distraction wouldn’t have catastrophic consequences. As far as he knew that was just how science worked.

Without work to keep him occupied Madara spent a large portion of his morning running here and there taking care of clan business that sometimes slipped through the cracks in favor of the work he did every day at the tower. Already doing his best not to think about what had happened, he was only peripherally aware that something was going on as he scampered back and forth around the compound, seeing the upset faces and hearing the murmuring voices as he passed but never really stopping to ask what was happening until he was passing by Susumu-sensei’s bakery and saw a long wooden spoon waving him in through the window. He scowled to be summoned in such a manner but he stepped inside the shop anyway. It was always nice to see her, he supposed.

“Did they find him yet?” she called over the counter, unbothered with any sort of greeting.

“Find who?” Madara set down the scrolls he’d been carrying around since one of the elders pressed the lot in to his arms and bent over the glass display case to spot his sensei.

Susumu looked up from where she appeared to be hunkered down out of sight. Looking at her, Madara realized he was fairly sure the sign on the door had been turned to say ‘closed’ when he came in, which was odd for this time of day. It was barely noon in the middle of the week.

“The kid. Did they find the kid?”

“What kid? And why are you closed? Kami you’re weird sometimes.” Madara scowled back when his old teacher crossed her arms and glared up at him.

“Kagami of course!”

“Eh? Why would we need to find him?”

Now she rolled her eyes and scooted around with some difficulty until she was on her knees. He wondered why she was bothering when her head barely showed above the counter standing at full height anyway but he wasn’t about to ask any other dumb questions when she was already looking at him like she was trying to calculate how many brain cells he had left.

“Because he’s missing,” she said, measuring her words to highlight the judgement in her tone. “He’s gone to ground in protest of being taken away from that husband of yours and no one knows where he went.”

“Wait, what? When? Surely his mother must have some idea of where he’s gone!” Madara wished he could say he was surprised but he really wasn’t. Training with Tobirama had helped calm and refine him in many ways but Kagami was still an impulsive child, probably always would be. Susumu snorted.

“You know his mother, one of those free spirit types that doesn’t care what her child gets up to as long as he comes home at the end of the day.”

He did know, though he didn’t approve. Kagami’s mother loved him as fiercely as any Uchiha might love their child but hers was a parenting style Madara knew he could never get used to. It was simply too distant for his tastes. Were he ever to have children he knew he would be asking questions as soon as the child returned home, wanting to know everything about their day and what they learned and whether they were happy.

“So why is everyone off their heads?” he asked after a few beats of disapproving silence. “Let the boy hide. He’ll come out eventually.”

“Well the issue isn’t whether he comes out of hiding, is it? You do know what that husband of yours has been teaching him lately, don’t you? Before you learn how to kill–”

“–first you must learn how to survive,” Madara finished, dread welling in his soul.

How could he have forgotten? Tobirama had mentioned it several times in passing that after Kagami finally mastered the basic kata and chakra exercises he would need to build a proper base for his abilities, the first real unit of study they began was survival skills. Sure they hadn’t gone nearly deep enough for the kid to live on his own in the wild indefinitely but he had more than enough knowledge to strike out of the village on his own and head for anywhere else in the world. And there was no telling where he might strike out to.

“Do we know for sure if he’s still in the village?” He looked to his teacher, dismayed to see her uncertain expression.

“The Inuzuka haven’t picked up any proper tracks but scent cover is one of the most basic skills and he’s constantly running all over anyway so his scent is all muddled together. Right now I think most people are working to make sure they’ve covered every nook and cranny of the village before they start branching outside of it. Honestly, how do you not know all this? Where have you been?”

Glancing over his shoulder at the scroll he’d been carrying around, Madara twisted his face a wry expression. “I’ve been running around all over the place for hours now. Anyone looking at me probably just assumed I knew and was heading somewhere else to look.”

“Mm. That makes sense.” Susumu nodded and Madara dragged a hand threw his hair.

“Right, well, new priority. He can’t have gotten far. I get why he’s pitching the fit but he’ll need to learn that no personal grievance like this should be cause to abandon one’s people.” If he told himself that enough then maybe he would convince himself he didn’t want just a little bit to join Kagami and run away from all of his responsibilities. “Why aren’t you helping out with the search?”

“Oh because I was the one that caused a distraction in the marketplace so Kagami could put the slip on everyone and disappear. I rather imagine several people would like to have some very heated words with me.” Her grin told him she did not regret her actions at all.

Madara stared at his sensei with a flat expression just to make his feeling about that known. Then he spun on one heel, gathered his scrolls, and stormed out of the bakery without another word. Susumu-sensei could be dealt with later when he didn’t have a missing child to locate.

As he walked he stuffed the scrolls in to any pocket he could find in his typical voluminous robes. In the pocket on his left sleeve he actually discovered a storage scroll he’d forgotten he was still carrying around and stopped for a moment to fiddle with that until he remembered how to seal more items inside without dumping out the current contents. Now that he knew what was going on he noticed the people passing him by were all wearing distraught expressions, sparking a little bit of pride in his chest despite the situation. His clan truly cared for each other in a way he was sure other clans could never hope to match.

Considering the man’s skillset Madara's first plan of action had been to seek out Tobirama. Even if other sensors had already been on the lookout there were none who could match Tobirama’s sensitivity or range. That plan was rendered moot, however, when Madara rounded a corner and discovered that his husband had crawled out of the lab all on his own – only to be accosted in the street by Tajima. He hurried his steps as his father’s grew audible over the sounds of a bustling public square.

“-tainted them both!” the man was shouting, much to Tobirama’s obvious offense.

“Spending time with them is not tainting either. I would suggest you try it sometime but I’m sure overexposure to you could taint just about anyone.” Already pale, Tobirama’s skin looked fairly translucent in his rage. His self-control must have been on shaky ground to yell back at Tajima in such a public space.

“You influence them with your uncouth behaviors – and now look at what you’ve done! The boy is missing and it is your fault!”

Madara felt his left eye twitch as he hurried to stand at his husband’s side, all good intentions about making peace between them falling away immediately. “It was not Tobirama who shattered Kagami’s world, father, that was you. In no way is this Tobirama’s fault. We all praised it as a good thing when he took on an Uchiha student, including yourself!”

“I’m allowed to have regrets just like anyone else,” Tajima sniffed.

“Well bully for you. I regret nothing.”

“You will live to regret some things if you continue to take that tone with me!”

“Bet I won’t!”

Pinching at the bridge of his nose, Tobirama visibly struggled to regain control of himself. Once he’d managed to reassemble to the clear, stoic expression he usually wore he put a hand on Madara's shoulder and shook his head once as those to declare the fight not worth it.

Already angry, it almost seemed like not getting any further excuse to yell at either of them incensed Tajima even further, his weight shifting as though he only barely caught himself about to stomp a foot.

“You! Aren’t you supposed to be the best sensor of your generation?”

“I am,” Tobirama replied icily, pushing aside the finger that Tajima had shoved under his nose.

“Then why are you not also looking for that boy?”

Madara opened his mouth – and snapped it shut again at a sharp flick of Tobirama’s fingers.

“Have you considered that Kagami does not wish to be found and should be allowed time to process the news? Impulsive he may be but Kagami is loyal; I can guarantee you without any sort of confirmation that he is still within the village.”

“Not good enough,” Tajima said. “I want him found. You will assist in the search.”

“Very well. I know precisely where he is.”

“I knew it! You’ve been hiding him, haven’t you!”

Tobirama lifted one eyebrow in cold judgement. “On the contrary, I did not know he was missing until you accosted me on my way home.”

“But you can sense where he is?” Madara jumped in before his father could offer any other insults.

“I don’t need to,” Tobirama replied in a surprisingly soft voice. “I know my student.”

Completely ignoring Tajima where he stood fuming, Madara scurried along as Tobirama turned away with a short wave inviting him to follow. They both continued to ignore his father when the man trailed along behind them cursing viciously under his breath. Tobirama set an unerring path for the eastern side of the compound where several private training fields had been set up for clan use only, where he and Kagami most often preferred to do their training, and Madara gave some thought to smacking himself in the face for not thinking of that the moment he learned that one half of their duo was missing.

Unsurprisingly Tajima didn’t seem to grasp the connection to where they ended up but he at least kept most of his grumbling quiet enough that Madara could set him out of mind and look around. There were several other people here already, most of them lining the edges of the open field area checking every crevice they could find, and among them was Kagami’s mother. Perhaps she knew her son better than he gave her credit for.

“I see no child,” Tajima snarled from a few feet behind them but Tobirama neglected to answer.

Silently he headed for the single tree that grew in the center of the field, full of burn scars and missing several limbs to show how long it had been since the last time Hashirama made his rounds repairing each of the training areas. With half the leaves burnt off in one spar or another a casual observer might take one look at the tree and dismiss it as a place someone of Kagami’s size might be able to hide in. Each of the branches were clearly visible. He simply wasn’t there. Still Tobirama approached with solemn eyes and tilted his head back.

“Time to come down now,” was all he said. Madara could see that several of the people around were looking over in their direction. All of them were probably just as surprised as he was when Kagami materialized as though from thin air and threw himself down against Tobirama’s chest.

“I-I did it just like you taught me!” the boy sobbed, tears coursing down cheeks already crusted with hours’ worth of salt.

“Yes, you did very well; you fooled an entire clan of adults in fact. But now it’s time to go, understood?”

Madara blinked at the boy and lifted his chin to blink at the top of the tree too. He’d never seen a child master the Chameleon Jutsu before. Paired with frankly impressive chakra suppression and this kid was well on his way to developing some enviable infiltration skills – or he would be if he weren’t also wildly susceptible to his own emotions even by Uchiha standards. That was definitely something he would need to work on.

“Sensei, he said I can’t train with you anymore! Not at all!” Kagami blubbered as the other adults drew closer across the field. Tobirama drew in a slow breath and nodded, visibly working himself up to going over this all a second time.

“It’s been decided that you should enroll in the public academy when it opens and that it would be best to sever this partnership now.” The tightening of his jaw spoke louder than words what Tobirama thought of that and Madara had to admit that he agreed.

He also had to admit that he would have very much enjoyed the chance to punch his own father in the jaw right then as Tajima crossed his arms and harrumphed, satisfaction seeping in to his expression at seeing Tobirama follow along with his orders. But really what else could Tobirama do? To refuse a direct order would be to go against his own clan head who, without a doubt, would accuse him of not having Kagami’s best interests at heart.

“You won’t let him take me away will you?” Kagami asked in a voice so small he could barely be heard. Several of the adults closing in touched their chests and the boy’s mother put a hand over her mouth, dabbing at her eyes with the other.

“Following orders is a part of being a shinobi,” Tobirama murmured.

“But…does that mean you don’t want me anymore? Sensei please let me stay! I’ll be good! I’ll train so hard, promise!”

Heart clenching in his own chest, Madara watched his husband kneel down so he could look Kagami in the eye, one arm hovering indecisively for a moment before falling back to his side. “I don’t want you to go,” he admitted softly. “Teaching you has been a pleasure and an honor. But we have our orders and we must follow them even if it is not what we want, yes?”

“Y-yes sensei.” Kagami’s bottom lip wobbled dangerously. It was such a sad little sight that Madara was seconds away from reaching out to draw the mite in to a hug and all that stopped him was Tobirama beating him to it in a fashion of his own, patting him on the shoulder.

“Good. You’ve done a good job, Kagami.”

It was those words, knowing it was possibly the last time he would hear them, that seemed to break the boy. With an expression as though his very heart had been torn from behind his ribs Kagami launched himself forward to wrap both arms around Tobirama’s neck. To Madara's surprise his husband accepted the gesture and held him tightly despite the people openly watching them.

Not just watching. Though his eyes stayed fixed on the spectacle before him Madara's ears were open and alert, listening to the crowd around them murmur and whisper to each other. It was difficult not to let himself chime in or rile them up even more but he was smart enough to understand the difficulties that would crop up later down the road if he did that. Any changes that might be stopped, any decisions that might be overturned, he was all too aware that Tajima would not accept it if he had any reason to believe Madara was in any way influencing these people.

Even keeping his silence was satisfying, though. It gave him a chance to watch the murmurs of the crowd become grumbles, discontent spreading in waves as more arrived to check the area then stop and watch the scene unfold. When they got here there had only been a handful and now there were almost two dozen people milling around and whispering already warped versions of what had transpired so far. Despite the tears still coursing down Kagami’s cheeks and the shuddering of each breath as he fought with himself to stand strong for Tobirama, Madara found it in himself to smile. He wasn’t surprised in the least when the first person stepped forward.

He was a little surprised that it wasn’t Kagami’s mother.

“Tajima-sama,” the young woman called hesitantly. “Is it so necessary to place the boy in the academy?”

“Are you questioning me?”

“I seek only to understand,” she replied, cowed, her head falling low and her steps shuffling backwards.

Her retreat was halted when a young man wrapped an arm around her shoulders and faced their clan head with a tad more bravery. “Do we not, as Uchiha, value our bonds over all else? Clearly these two have a strong kinship already. Would Tajima-sama be willing to explain for us what benefit will come from severing that?”

“I am not required to explain myself,” Tajima hissed. Several of those around him straightened their spines with instinctual rebellion. No shinobi enjoyed being spoken to in that tone, not even by their own clan head.

“You are not required to,” the young man agreed. “I asked if you were willing to. Were it my decision – yes, I understand that it is not, it was only a postulation – but if it were up to me I would think that to separate these two now would only sow discontent between the boy and any who teach him in the future. I lost my own sensei when I was around his age and I resented every adult who tried to instruct me in the years after, always comparing them to the one I had lost.”

Tajima sneered at him and Madara could hear the insult coming even before his father spoke. The young man was one of those who would never rise above the recently proposed rank of genin, something Tajima clearly looked down on him for.

Catching on to the conversation around them, both Tobirama and Kagami were looking up from their embrace now, arms still loosely wrapped around each other but eyes locked in on the discussion of their fate. A heartbreaking sort of hope that expects to be crushed shone in Tobirama’s eyes and Madara, for the first time since he was a child, quietly offered a small prayer to whatever gods were listening.

“Luckily for the good of the clan, larger decisions are left to those of us who are prepared to handle them.” Tajima lifted his chin an inch or so and Madara wanted to sigh for his behavior.

“Is he not too old?” Finally Kagami’s own mother stepped up to speak in his defense.

“Old?”

“Yes. Word of this academy is everywhere and many parents are excited about the prospects for their own children so we trade what rumors we hear, of course. But if the rumors are correct then Kagami has already reached the age you hope for children to graduate and move on to a more personal teaching experience anyway.”

“The teams,” Tobirama could be heard to murmur softly, a moment of realization.

Seeing his chance, Madara hummed as though deep in thought. “Weren’t we going to set them up in teams of three, each to be assigned an adult willing to pass on their experience?”

“If so then I should think Tobirama-sama more than qualifies. He is knowledgeable, skilled, and he has already shown himself to be willing.” Kagami’s mother sniffed at her own clan head dismissively. “What harm could it do for them to continue training alone until other members can be found to form a proper squad?”

Were it somehow not obvious before that Tajima was angered by this whole mess it would have to be now as his face grew redder and redder with every insolent sentence spoken to him. He looked like a child younger than the one whose life he sought to uproot, moments away from the most epic temper tantrum of his life. It was singularly embarrassing to watch and yet none present were willing to make themselves look away as he continued to shame himself by standing in the hole he had dug and refusing any offers of help getting out.

“Yes,” he was forced to grind out. “That is the age we had discussed as a graduation objective.”

“Perhaps it would help us all understand if we simplified the situation,” the woman said. To Madara's disgust his father openly rolled his eyes to such an agreeable statement.

“Go on then.”

She nodded graciously with more manners than he had shown her thus far in return. “In the end we all have my son’s best interests in mind, surely.”

“Yes, surely,” Tajima growled.

“Would it truly be in his best interest to rip him away from the one person who has shown interest in his development after so many in our own clan passed him over as too hopelessly energetic to ever make a fine shinobi? Is it in his best interest to give him the impression that forging bonds with the elders he is supposed to trust leads only to pain?” Canting her head to the side and staring her superior down with the steel spine of a mother scorned, she lifted both eyebrows and said, “If there is anyone here that has my son’s best interests at heart it is Tobirama-sama and if that is truly your goal then it is my opinion that they should be allowed to continue training together before their separation has a detrimental effect on Kagami’s growth.”

Never in his life had it been more difficult for Madara to resist the urge to applaud someone. Her speech itself was impressive but the paroxysms of fury crossing Tajima’s face were worth at least one deep bow for her incredible accomplishment. Red enough to be mistaken for a ripened cherry, Tajima’s face folded in to the deepest sneer he was capable of and sucked in a breath through his nose as he gave one very slow nod.

“Fine,” he hissed. “Let them continue to train. And do not cry to me when every other clan in the village questions how the Uchiha can be so boorish as to not support the ideas that we ourselves present to the council.”

“I should think the dozens of other Uchiha children who will be attending the academy would silence any talk of that,” Tobirama spoke up finally, standing up and keeping one hand on Kagami’s shoulders, supporting him while he wiped furiously at his unceasing tears.

“You–!” Tajima puffed up and up, larger and larger, until he deflated suddenly with a squawk of impotent frustration.

When he turned on his heel it took perhaps three seconds for every eye in the clearing to leave him and in less than half a minute it was as though he had never been present. The crowd pulled tighter around the two at the center of the drama while Kagami rubbed at one eye and asked in a breathless voice if that had really just happened, clearly unable to believe his own ears. Tobirama looked down at him, blinked once, then without warning his lips parted in a brilliant smile that Madara was sure very few people in the village had ever witnessed. Apparently he was throwing all social cautions to the wind today.

None of them having seen such an expression on his face before, many of the people around them were understandably stunned in to quiet stillness, gawping at an oblivious Tobirama while Madara preened off to one side. His husband was indeed quite a stunning man.

The moment Kagami understood that he really was allowed to keep training with Tobirama after all was clear to everyone present. With a howl of victory that Tajima could probably hear no matter how far away he’d already gone the boy leapt in to the air several times, both fists raised in celebration. He threw himself first at his beloved sensei and then in to his mother’s arms while a fresh wave of tears spilled from his eyes. These, at least, were tears of joy.

“Kaachan! Kaachan did you hear? I get to keep him!” Laughing, the woman pulled her son up to sit on one hip even though he was far too big for such things.

“From what I heard it seems more like he gets to keep you.”

“Okay!”

Tobirama coughed to cover what would have surely been his own spray of laughter. Doing so brought eyes back to him and he finally seemed to realize he was making what he might call a spectacle of himself, though any Uchiha would see it merely as regular emoting. He made sure Kagami was distracted before slipping over to Madara's side.

“Pleased?” Madara asked him knowingly.

“Satisfied,” he muttered.

“Ah, I see. Saving the victory dance for when no one can see you?”

“I have never in my life performed a ‘victory dance’ and I have no intentions of doing so.” Tobirama glared at him with no heat at all behind it, obviously still too happy to be mad.

Unconvinced, Madara only shrugged and dared to reach down where he could weave their fingers together. “As long as you’re happy,” he said quietly.

He wasn’t surprised to get only a soft smile in return. Even in the privacy of their home he probably wouldn’t have gotten any bold declarations of glowing poetry – thankfully. Honestly such displays would be painful to sit through.

“Are you hungry?” The question caught him off guard, stammering out a few disconnected noises before he could answer.

“I suppose?”

“Excellent. I should like to take Kagami and his mother out to celebrate. She should be honored for sticking up for her son in such a manner.”

“Oh. Yes.” Madara lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “That’s actually a very good idea.”

Tobirama heard the surprise in his voice and huffed. “I do have those on occasion. Now if you will excuse me.”

He turned away to catch the attention of Kagami’s mother but it was hard for Madara to find insult in the dismissal when his husband refused to let go of his hand or even so much as step away from his side. While he invited the two of them to dinner that night Madara smiled to himself and rocked back on his heels, looking around at the Uchiha gathered in a tight knit little group to chatter about the triumph of protecting the precious bond between one teacher and student pair. Could any other clan ever love quite like an Uchiha?

When his eyes slid over to take in his husband’s profile Madara twisted his mouth with a wry expression. He was the last person who should be allowed an opinion on how to love, barely understanding what was going on inside his own chest. Nevertheless he did understand the warmth that filled him as he watched the man trying and failing to contain his smile and if there was one thing he was sure of it was that with each day that passed he grew less and less afraid of the idea that this was the rest of his life.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #kagami #tajima #susumu #fanfiction

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kuriquinn · 7 years ago

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Penthesilea [5/?]

Cover & Disclaimer

Chapter Summary: Sasuke isn’t so concerned with the idea of peace—he thinks it’s flawed, and no matter how good the intention, it is doomed to fail. But he can see that Sakura believes in it

Chapter Beta: Sakura’s Unicorn

戦国時代

Sasuke paces outside his brother’s quarters, guarding the door lest anyone get through and see Sakura. Although she’s disguised once more as a common healer, he can’t help feeling anxious. She wasn’t foolish enough to walk in here using henge, but a scarf covering her hair and forehead don’t disguise her enough for his tastes. It’s hard to gaze upon her and imagine her as ordinary. But in a camp where the vast majority of soldiers have some form of dōjutsu that can detect deception? If they are discovered, they’ll both be undone. Sasuke could face his own people’s harsh judgement and she could…

He doesn’t want to think about it too much…which is a novelty as he’s never shied away from contemplating unpleasant outcomes before.

There’s a sudden ripple in the canvas beside him and Sakura’s hand motions him inside. He follows, eyes adjusting to the dim light—anything too bright hurts his brother’s eyes these days—and closes the tent flap behind him.

Itachi dozes on his pallet, a worryingly pale figure, though Sasuke notes that his breathing isn’t as laboured as it was before. There’s only the slightest rattle in his lungs when he inhales.

“I’ve done everything I can,” Sakura tells him quietly, “but it’s a challenging case.”

Sasuke tenses. “Challenging how? What’s wrong with him?”

“I’ve treated the symptoms—the hemoptysis and retinal hemorrhaging, so his breathing and sight will be better for a while. I also detected a heart murmur, although I don’t think that was a related issue,” she informs him wearily. “But that’s all they were—symptoms. There’s an underlying condition that’s causing all of that, and I need more time to isolate it.”

“How much time?”

“I don’t know,” she admits, apologetic. “This doesn’t seem to be any disease or virus that I’m familiar with which means it’s either very new—or ancient. I must research it.”

“I’ll get you scrolls,” Sasuke declares. “We have medical texts…maybe someone missed something. There’s a medic as well. Yakushi Ka—”

“Yakushi Kabuto,” Sakura scoffs in contempt, and for the first time, an ugly expression appears on her face. “I’ve heard of him. No more than a glorified necromancer.”

“Even if he is, he’s kept my people alive this long,” Sasuke defends. This isn’t out of loyalty to the other man, so much as resentment for the insinuation that he would place his forces in the hands of a hack medic.

“If he had anything here that could help, he would’ve found it already and you wouldn’t have sought me out,” she replies, gently but firmly. “No, I need to go through better records. And all of my scrolls are…are back…”

Sakura’s voice trails off as if she doesn’t want to remind them both that she has to return home—to his enemies.

That technically, she is his enemy.

“You need to go,” he says, for his own benefit as the tone leaves no room for argument.

“Yes. But… I’ll be back. Itachi-sama will need weekly treatments. They’ll buy us time while I figure out how to cure him.”

Sasuke hesitates. It was difficult enough sneaking her in here once; it would tempt fate to do so repeatedly and over an indefinite period.

Sakura appears to follow his train of thought because she scowls at him, hands on her hips. “He is my patient, Sasuke-kun. You can be damned sure I’ll be back here every week to help him. If that’s not what you wanted, you shouldn’t have brought me here.”

There is too much about that sentence that’s true.

Slowly, Sasuke nods, and Sakura’s storm cloud expression fades away. She looks surprised at how easily he gave in. She’s not the only one.

“All right. I’m going.”

“Wait. I’ll bring you to the edge of camp,” Sasuke says, reaching for the tent flap.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” a familiar, bored voice interjects. Sasuke nearly jumps back in shock when his former sensei, Hatake Kakashi, ducks into the tent.

Damn it! How did I not notice he was there?!

Though it shouldn’t be a surprise because Kakashi has always appeared in places he shouldn’t be or isn’t expected to turn up. It’s a talent that Sasuke’s father capitalised on when he asked the man to mentor not only Sasuke, but his brother Itachi before him. That Kakashi isn’t an Uchiha speaks to the skills he possesses, especially if Sasuke’s rigid, pedigree-obsessed father took notice.

Sakura adopts a respectful, unassuming stance, her eyes to the ground and shoulders hunched forward, as if she is only a humble village healer in the presence of her betters. It irritates Sasuke to see—her strength is one of her defining features, and hiding it is insulting, but necessary.

“What are you doing here?” he demands of the older man, annoyed. Perhaps they can play this whole scene off as what it’s supposed to look like. Neither he nor Sakura have said anything particularly questionable and, as far as Kakashi’s concerned, she really is just some healer Sasuke brought in to help his brother. It’s not like it’s the first time that’s happened.

The white-haired man’s eyes focus on Sakura. His expression is impossible to read beneath his ever-present mask, but Sasuke knows he is sizing her up with the same scrutiny as any Sharingan-user might. Had Kakashi been born with the Uchiha dōjutsu, Sasuke suspects he would’ve been one of the clan’s most dangerous members.

“I took a wrong turn on the way to the toilet,” Kakashi says mildly. “Trying to take the long route since the guard changed—Inabi and his squad, you know? I don’t much care for any of them.” He says it in a bored, casual way, as if he’s just expressing an opinion, but Sasuke frowns as he gets the underlying message.

Inabi and his crew are some of the more volatile men under his command—effective, if bloodthirsty, soldiers in the field and brutally loyal to the Uchiha cause. But there have been several incidents involving village women lately.

If Sakura were to end up in their crosshairs…

Sasuke knows she would destroy them. That isn’t the part that bothers him; his cousin’s behaviour dishonours the clan. In the long run, having him dealt with would do Sasuke a favour. But Inabi is still popular within the clan. His death would draw attention to Sakura and could cause another flare up between the two warring sides. Things have been calm the past few weeks and, at this point, Sasuke is keen on keeping it that way. Especially because, if everyone is on the lookout for Sakura, she won’t be able to help Itachi.

Sasuke meets Kakashi’s gaze now, and realises that not only is the man thinking several steps ahead, but he is also perfectly aware of who Sakura is.

Why am I not surprised? Sasuke thinks in annoyance. He has yet to figure out a way to hide anything from Kakashi. Besides Itachi, the man’s observational skills are legendary.

Out loud, Sasuke decides, “I’ll take her the back way then.”

“No, you can’t,” Sakura says at the same time Kakashi points out, “That’s a bad idea.”

They look at each other, and understanding passes between them.

“You need plausible deniability in the unlikely event she gets caught,” Kakashi says. “If her identity is discovered and she has to make a scene getting out of here, you don’t want to be anywhere nearby. If you’re seen with her, your loyalties will be publicly in question.”

Sasuke opens his mouth to argue, but Sakura takes up the rest of the argument.

“With your brother ill, people are already taking bets on who’ll take over if something should happen to him or you. On our side, definitely, but I imagine it’s the same here.”

“If you’re taken out of the succession, who’s to say it won’t be Inabi who takes over?”

“That’s absurd. If anything happened to me, Obito will lead the Uchiha,” Sasuke returns. “Everyone knows that.”

The clan rules about blood and inheritance are clear: the individual with the closest claim to Madara’s bloodline is the one in charge.

“Which is a tragedy all by itself,” Kakashi says with an overdramatic sigh. “The man is a moron.”

“Did I not hear something about him being your best friend?” Sakura asks curiously.

Sasuke shoots her a surprised glance and Kakashi’s face twitches beneath his mask.

“It depends upon the day of the week,” he admits. “So…you know who I am then?”

“I almost killed you once,” she tells him with a tiny smirk. “And I remember the hair.”

“You’re one to talk about hair. Although, if I’d been any slower, you would’ve buried me alive,” Kakashi agrees. “You’ve truly inherited your master’s strength.” He doesn’t bother hiding his admiration.

Sasuke makes an impatient noise. The ease with which they are conversing bothers him. Sakura notices and offers him a cheeky, confident grin.

“I’ll be fine,” she assures him. “If I can’t slip through an enemy camp, I’m not a very good shinobi. And we both know that’s not the case.”

“I don’t care about that,” Sasuke lies. “What are you going to tell your people when you get there? You’ve been missing since at least last night.” He carefully avoids seeing if Kakashi caught the implication of that. “They’ll expect you to say where you’ve been.”

Sakura’s grin fades, and her playful demeanour shifts back into the business-like medic who examined his brother. “I have a certain amount of freedom,” she tells him coolly. “I have to be able to move around on a whim to find herbs and other medicinal components. If I have to check in with someone all the time, I can’t do my job. It’s one reason I was trained as I was—so that I don’t have to depend on anyone else to protect me but myself.”

She holds his gaze until he is forced to look away. It’s not something that happens to him often, but something about this annoying woman just undoes him.

“Do you realise how careful you have to be?” Kakashi prompts gravely, changing the subject. “If you mention to anyone among your people that you’re helping Uchiha Itachi—”

“I know. It’s treason.”

“Not only that. It could jeopardise any kind of future peace.”

Sasuke wasn’t expecting this and even Sakura appears confused. “How?”

“At the moment, people simply think Itachi suffers from a temporary illness. Everyone expects a recovery. If they were to discover it’s more complicated than that…” Kakashi explains quietly. “In war, when one side knows the enemy is in a weak position, they inevitably take advantage of it. There are factions on both sides of this who want an end to the war. But they also want it to end in their favour, and so, certain elements would use peace negotiations to do that.”

“That won’t happen,” Sakura insists. “Shishou wants what’s best for everyone. And Naruto—”

“I suspect you’re right,” Kakashi interrupts. “But people like Senju Tsunade and Uzumaki Naruto—Uchiha Itachi and Hyūga Hiashi, even—have to decide based on the will of the people who follow them. If they don’t, they risk being disobeyed. Too many people have lost loved ones in this war.”

All three of them are quiet for a beat here.

“Furthermore,” Kakashi continues, “there are those who never had any love for the Uchiha at all. Even before the days of Madara and Hashirama. A peace where one side is at a disadvantage from the beginning is a peace that’s destined to be broken. It’s what caused this war to last as long as it has. And I may be wrong, but I don’t think either of you want history to repeat itself in that way.”

He eyes them both now, knowing, and Sasuke has to fight down the rush of blood to his face. This time it’s Sakura who looks away. Obviously, Kakashi’s guessed exactly what Sasuke didn’t want him to.

“For now, you need to wait and keep this a secret,” Kakashi continues. “Until Itachi is in better condition, the issue of peace can’t be broached. Not while there’s a chance he might be accused of being influenced by another person or even by his illness.”

This time, the tense silence is not one of remembrance, but of the possible consequences of failure.

Sasuke isn’t so concerned with the idea of peace—he thinks it’s flawed, and no matter how good the intention, it’s doomed to fail. But he can see that Sakura believes in it, and Kakashi—for all his detached nature—seems to hold hopes of his own. As it is, secrecy is the only chance he has of keeping his brother alive, and so he opts to work toward that goal. If Itachi still wants peace when he’s recovered, then Sasuke will do his utmost to ensure it.

But that’s such a long way off. He can’t get ahead of himself.

Sakura watches as if she wants to reach out to him—to touch his face, or put her arms around him, or even kiss him. Mindful of their audience, she refrains.

Kakashi catches the by-play, however.

“Anyhow—I’ll go make sure the back way is free,” he says, eyes crinkling up in a light-hearted smile that belies his earlier gravity. “You should be on your way as soon as you can.”

He disappears with a puff of smoke.

Sakura fights off a smile. “He’s a character, isn’t he?”

“So, it would seem,” Sasuke hedges. “But he’s right. You need to go.”

“Yes,” she says, but doesn’t move.

Something in the way she looks at him just then is reminiscent of what he saw in the firelight of the cave. It’s a little softer, but no less powerful, and he shifts uncomfortably at the sight of it.

Sasuke’s eyes drift to where his brother sleeps, almost worried that he might be awake and witness to this, but Itachi remains in a peaceful state of unconsciousness. When Sasuke looks back, Sakura has moved to stand directly in front of him. If she weren’t so short, they might be nose to nose.

“Before I go, I want to say thank you,” she says, breathless.

“For what?”

“For before. It was my…that was the first time I…” she trails off, red-faced now, gazing at him from beneath her lashes with a shyness he finds uncharacteristic. “I’m glad it was with you.”

His mouth goes dry when he realises what she’s talking about. “You barely know me,” he says stiffly, ignoring the way his stomach jumps pleasantly at her words.

“I know you’re a good man. Stubborn, but good. And I want to know more. Maybe next time, we’ll be able to talk afterwards.”

Sasuke’s eyes widen.

Next time? Afterwards?!

“I will be back,” she vows to him over her shoulder as she leaves the tent. “We’ve bought some time; let’s use it to the best of our abilities.”

And then she’s gone.

つづく

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#naruto #sasusaku #rating: teen #warring states period #AU #sfw #sasuke uchiha #sakura haruno #kakashi hatake #kuriquinn #drama #angst #romance

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