forward, always

Sakura adjusted the gloves on her hands, making sure the fit was just right, as she stared down her opponent. She had gotten used to the weights hanging off her legs now, but this would be her first time wearing them while sparring someone other than Madara. It was going to be a challenge.

Izuna stretched his torso to the left and right, testing out his healed muscles. Besides a few exercises here and there, this would be his body’s first real test. The younger Uchiha was well past the stage of relapse, and he could get around to almost anywhere he pleased these days, but he’d lost a lot of muscle while bedridden and this would be the first step towards rebuilding it. 

“As agreed upon earlier,” Madara announced from his viewing place on the engawa, “there will be no use of chakra. This match will consist purely of taijutsu. Any use of ninjutsu or genjutsu will result in automatic forfeit. Agreed?” He eyed Izuna specifically.

Raising his hands, Izuna glared at his older brother. “I know the rules!”

Madara nodded, “And I know you hate to lose.”

“Are you calling me a cheater, brother?”

Stroking his chin, Madara pretended to be deep in thought. “I seem to remember a time when we played pin the kunai on the donkey and you burning the display when you missed.”

Cheeks flaring red, Izuna hissed, “I was a child! That doesn’t count!”

Sakura laughed. Their squabbling reminded her of Sasuke and Naruto’s silly arguments from their genin days. “Come on you two. I don’t have all day.”

“Ah yes,” Izuna rolled his eyes. “You have to train recruits with Tobirama. Heaven forbid you’re late for that.”

Raising her arms, Sakura waved her hand at him to start and goaded him by saying, “You’re just jealous.”

That got the reaction she wanted. With an indignant grunt, Izuna came at her. He swung for her head. Once, twice, thrice. Bobbing side to side and then ducking low, Sakura tried to sweep him off his feet with a swinging kick. He jumped up high, higher than was wise during a hand to hand fight, and Sakura waited for his descent before pouncing. 

He blocked her first punch, and the kick she sent towards his head, but the second punch landed, sending him sprawling across the grass. Before Sakura could take advantage of his prone state, he rolled and flipped back onto his feet, going on the attack.

With her weighted legs and his recovering body, they were evenly matched. Sakura was sure to have splotches of bruises all over her body, but she was giving as good as she got. Plus, there was one important thing Sakura had that Izuna currently did not; stamina. 

Sooner than Izuna would have liked, but an appropriate amount of time to Sakura’s medically trained eyes, Izuna began to tire. His breathing turned labored, his movements slowed, and, noticing these changes, Sakura didn’t pull her punches. One of Izuna’s hits left him wide open. Seizing the opportunity, Sakura grabbed his arm and used his momentum to hurl him across the training ground. 

“Shannaro!”

Rolling onto his back, Izuna groaned. “You used chakra! That’s cheating.”

Raising her brows, Sakura looked back at Madara, who’d been watching with blood red eyes. “I didn’t use any chakra.”

Frowning, Izuna looked to Madara for confirmation. When his older brother confirmed her statement with a nod of his head, Izuna looked her up and down. “Why are you so freakishly strong?”

Flexing her biceps, Sakura laughed. “You wish you had these muscles.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Izuna crawled to his feet. “Rematch tomorrow?”

“Sure.” Sakura agreed easily as she walked over to Madara.

A small, soft smile was on his face. Once she was close enough, he reached out to tuck some stray, sweaty locks behind her ear. “Will you have time tomorrow?”

Sakura shrugged. “I’ll make time. Maybe you and I could spar this afternoon?” 

“Why not now?”

Sakura grimaced. “I’m supposed to meet with the dressmaker in an hour, and I’ll need to wash up before she arrives.”

“Oh no, not the dressmaker,” Izuna teased.

Rolling her eyes, Sakura told him, “I’d like to see you stand perfectly still while you’re pricked and prodded without complaint.”

Izuna grunted, but didn’t say anything more. 

“Today should be a light day,” Madara said. “If the sun is still out when I return I’d love to spar with you.”

Sakura beamed up at him. “It’s a date!”

Helping Sakura up onto the engawa, Madara led the way back into the house so she could prepare herself for the dreaded appointment. 

After an hour and a half of standing perfectly still while the tailor made adjustments to her wedding kimono, Sakura stretched her arms above her head, her joints popping loudly with freedom. Normally, her fitting only took an hour, but some stitching had needed to be redone, leaving Sakura feeling like a porcelain doll for much too long. Luckily she would only have to survive one more fitting session before the wedding. 

Now that the worst of winter was behind them and spring was tickling everyone’s minds with sunnier days and the first hints of budding flowers, that meant the wedding was only a handful of months away. Sakura wasn’t sure how it’d crept up on her. It felt like just the other day that Madara had accepted her accidental proposal. 

“Sakura-sama,” Miyoko called before entering the room. Folded over her arms was the light green and yellow kimono Sakura had been wearing before the fitting. Slipping her arms into the sleeves, Sakura held her arms up as Miyoko secured her obi and ensured only the collar of her pink nagajuban was showing. 

“Thank you, Miyoko.” It still felt silly, having a hand maid dress her, even after all these months, but it did speed things up quite a bit which was appreciated. “Are we still having dinner at Uncle’s tomorrow night or will you be canceling at the last minute again to visit your new beau?”

Face turning redder than a tomato, Miyoko wailed, “I only did that once!”

Sakura laughed, “And we’ll never let you live that down.”

Miyoko sighed and shook her head. “Unbearable, the both of you. But yes, we are still having dinner together. His knee has been bothering him, by the way. He won’t say so–he hasn’t even complained about it to me–but I can tell. It always twinges around springtime, thanks to the humidity.”

Humming, Sakura led them out of her room and towards the main room where she planned on updating her notes about the hospital. It was a nice day out, warmer than it's been in some time, and she thought about opening the shoji doors to let in some fresh air. “I’ll make sure to bring some tea to help. If we get him into a good enough mood, he might even admit he’s in pain and let me heal him.”

Although Uchiha Masaru knew Sakura to be a proficient healer, and had experienced her abilities first hand, he proved to be an exceptionally tightlipped man when it came to speaking about his aches and pains. If he hadn’t been bed-ridden that first time she’d visited his home, she doubted he’d have let her near him. Men and their pride were one thing. Uchiha men and their pride were something in a whole different category. 

“Thank you, Sakura-sama. Oh! Madara-sama,” Miyoko bowed deeply upon Madara’s arrival. “Shall I make you both some tea?”

“Yes, thank you. Sakura,” Madara reached for her hand, “I have something I want to show you.” He brought her to the main room where a small package sat atop the chabudai. “Come see what one of the new civilians invented.”

Sakura peered curiously over Madara’s shoulder as he unboxed the mysterious object. “It’s called a camera.”

Brows rising high, Sakura looked at the ancient relic of a camera that was so shiny and new in Madara’s hands. She’d been in the past for a while now. She’d come across many items she’d once considered old and foregone looking freshly minted, but for some reason, this item in particular sent Sakura’s mind reeling. There was just something about the past and present colliding so spectacularly that caused her brain to crash. 

After what was probably too long a pause, Sakura asked, “What does it do?”

Madara, either not noticing her sudden, dazed state, or attributing it to confusion or surprise, told her, “It captures your image onto a small square of something called film.” His eyes were bright with excitement as he explained it. It was incredibly endearing of him. “Instead of sitting for hours for a portrait, it copies your image in mere minutes!”

He flipped the curtain up to hide beneath and pointed the lens at Sakura, making her laugh. “Does this mean you want to cancel our wedding portrait next week?”

“No,” Madara’s voice was muffled slightly, but she could hear the exasperation in his voice all the same. “We’ll still have to sit through that–tradition, and all.” He gave a wave of his hand. “But just look at this!” 

With a click and a bright flash, Sakura became the camera’s first unsuspecting victim. “Madara!” She whined, reaching to tug on his haori sleeve. “I wasn’t ready, that’s not fair!”

Pulling himself out from beneath the curtain, he chuckled and held the camera high above him where Sakura couldn’t reach. “Now, now, let’s not be hasty. I’m sure you look beautiful as always. 

Sakura’s cheeks burned and she pouted. If it were truly heinous, she’d just burn it once it was developed. Appeased with her plan, Sakura voiced a new idea. “Let’s take one together!”

Madara frowned, looking at the large contraption in his hands. “How?”

It was then that Miyoko walked in, a tray in her hands filled with a tea pot and cups. 

“Miyoko can take it for us,” Sakura said easily. 

Looking up at the sound of her name, Miyoko placed the tray on the chabudai and tilted her head. “What can I do for you, Sakura-sama?”

“Take our photo. Here,” she took the camera from Madara and placed it in Miyoko’s hands. “It’s easy. Madara, show her how it’s done.”

He did so and then walked back to Sakura. Wrapping both her arms around one of his and resting her head against his shoulder, she grinned broadly at the camera. “Smile!”

There was a click and a flash, and it was done. 

“When can we see the result?”

“I’m not sure,” Madara admitted with a frown. “There’s a developing process it needs to go through. Maybe in a week?”

Sakura laughed. “So much for being faster than a portrait.”

Humming, Madara nodded. “Perhaps one day the printing process will be expedited.”

Reaching for the camera, Sakura took it and aimed the lens up at her betrothed. “Smile!” Madara gave her his little hint of a smile, and she clicked the shutter button. “If we have to wait a week for the images, we might as well make the wait worth it, hmm?”

“Don’t you have a training session this afternoon?” Madara asked with a raised brow. 

Sakura shrugged. “I have a few hours. Don’t you have another meeting with the Daimyo’s advisor?”

Smirking, Madara told her, “I have a few hours.”

Sakura watched over her apprentices with no small amount of pride in her eyes. There were thirty seven of them in all. Thirty men and seven women from varying clans, all working together to learn the art of medicine in hopes of protecting their village. 

Today each stood before a basket of water and a freshly dead fish. It was their first real test, to see if they could summon and control the exact amount of chakra needed to restimulate the fish’s nervous system and bring it back to life. Sakura had already demonstrated how to do it on a fish of her own, then walked them through the process, then demonstrated the action once more. Now it was time to watch who would succeed and who would fail. 

Tobirama stood in the back of the makeshift classroom, his arms over his chest and his red eyes scanning the room as he closely monitored everyone’s chakra usage. The tension and animosity between the two of them had decreased dramatically since his apology and Sakura’s confirmed loyalty to the village. Their interactions were still awkward and clipped, but they could make it through the day well enough. 

There were several apprentices that showed great promise, resuscitating their fish within their first ten attempts. The six Senju had been able to do it, which hadn’t surprised Sakura. Uchiha Taro also showed off his skills, much to her delight. 

And, most importantly, all the women in attendance were just as successful. More than successful, in fact. All of them had accomplished their task before any of the men in the room. 

Sakura had caught Tobirama’s eye once the last girl, a ten year old Yamanaka, brought her fish back before any of the Senju boys had managed it. She’d flashed him a triumphant grin. He’d inhaled deeply, but otherwise hadn’t reacted. 

When an hour had past and half the class still hadn’t completed their task, Sakura called it. “That’s it for today everyone. Good job. We’ll meet here again tomorrow.”

With a bow, all her little disciples trickled out of the room, leaving her alone with Tobirama. “Not too bad for their first day of practical training.” She began sealing the leftover dead fish into their scrolls. 

“What will you have them do tomorrow?”

“The same thing as today.” Looking up at him, Sakura laughed. “Don’t look so surprised. Medical ninjutsu is just like any other practicum. You need repetition to gain confidence and muscle memory. Bringing a fish back to life once is a neat trick. Bringing it back to life a hundred times is skill.”

Tobirama hummed, then threw a small journal her way. “Here’s my observations of today's class. Akimichi Chobe and Inuzuka Hige are struggling with their chakra, but that’s most likely nerves since they had no problems climbing trees or walking on water. Uchiha Homura set his fish on fire, which I’m sure you noticed.” 

Sakura grimaced. She had indeed. 

“And Yamanaka Kairi’s chakra is frenetic, like he can’t control it.” Tobirama paused, then added, “The women all have much more control.”

Sakura hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t say anything more. That information wasn’t surprising, not when she really thought about it. In her time, most medics had been women, and since medics needed impeccable chakra control, it only made sense for the two to be connected.

“It’s amazing that you can sense that,” she said instead, because it was true. When Tobirama said nothing else, she looked up to find him staring intensely at her. “What is it?”

“I’m curious. Their chakra control was good, but yours is perfect. How long did it take you to perform this technique the first time?”

Sakura scratched the back of her head, thinking back. Learning medical jutsu of any kind was difficult. The craft was so precise and yet ever changing. She’d been lucky beyond her stars to have Tsunade as a teacher, but even still her guidance hadn’t necessarily made the path any easier. 

Heart clenching painfully, mournfully, Sakura felt all the energy in her body fade away. Tsunade had been the one to revolutionize Konoha’s medical corp. It was her that had created the Byakugou Seal and had learned to create craters with her fists alone. Sakura was just a disciple. A good one, but nothing more. What right did she have to take Tsunade’s accomplishments—her fame and glory—before she’d even had a chance to be born? 

Sakura felt like such a fraud.

“Sakura-san.” Tobirama’s voice stirred her from the depths of her mind. “Are you alright?”

A wobbly smile made its way onto her face. Her fingers twitched with the urge to rub away the tightness in her chest. It would do her no good, she knew, and likely just make things worse in the long run. “Apologies, Tobirama-san. I was lost in my thoughts.”

Tobirama nodded, seemingly understanding that those thoughts were painful ones and that he shouldn’t pry. Instead, he silently helped her tidy up the room and followed her out once they finished. 

“Do you have more business in the village today?” He asked.

“No.” 

Now that the training session was complete, so were her duties in the village. Once the hospital was up and running, her days would lengthen and her responsibilities would grow, but that was still a ways off. Sakura was still working on the blueprints for the hospital, trying to recreate it as closely as possible to the original. It was proving a bit more difficult than she thought it would. 

Shaking her head, she told Tobirama, “I have a few patients to see back at the compound, so I’ll be heading home soon.”

“You won’t be waiting for Madara then?” His tone took on a bite. “He’ll be crushed.”

Barely holding back a roll of her eyes, Sakura wondered if the future Nidaime meant to be so cantankerous or if it was a natural gift. Either way, she ignored it and said, “The meetings with you two and the Hokage take hours. If I waited around for them to finish, I’d waste the entire day.”

Tobirama chuckled, “My brother is known to be quite loquacious, I’ll give you that.” 

They’d reached the hallway that led to the Hokage office. “What’s on the agenda for today’s meeting, anyway?”

“A few things.” Tobirama answered simply, then stared at Sakura as she waited for him to elaborate. Eventually the man blinked, and seemingly picked up on the social clues. “Funding. Mission reports. I have a new project idea I plan on proposing. It’s an idea that’s been burning in the back of my mind for a while now. I wasn’t going to present it for a while, not until the village settled a bit more, but with your hospital idea taking off so well, I thought, well.” He shrugged. The action appeared almost sheepish in nature. “I figured I might as well suggest it.”

Sakura was surprised by his hesitation. The man was a genius after all. His ideas were unparalleled and she had never heard of any of them not panning out the way he had planned. Of course, as Sakura had learned fairly quickly, history books were biased. Regardless, she was curious. 

“What is it?

Tobirama pursed his lips. Then, with great reluctance, said, “I want to build a ninja academy within the village, where all prospective ninja can congregate to learn from a series of teachers.”

“I think that’s a great idea!” 

Tobirama blinked. “You do?” His jaw unclenched and his shoulders dropped a hair. “You’d be for it?”

“Of course,” Sakura said easily. “I think it’d be extremely beneficial.”  Even if she herself hadn’t benefited from the Academy as a child, she’d still be in favor of the idea. She was basically performing the same service with her medical trainees. 

“You’d support my idea even though I was against yours?”

Sakura took a minute to gather her thoughts before replying. It was interesting that he’d brought that up. Did he really expect such pettiness from her after all the work they’d done together? And was this an expectation he’d hold for everyone? Or just her, and by extension, the Uchiha? 

“I think,” she said slowly, “that a good idea is a good idea. No matter who it comes from.”

Brows furrowing, Tobirama said nothing. It looked like he’d just been presented with the world’s toughest puzzle. 

Bowing in farewell, Sakura turned to leave him.

“Sakura-san,” he called, causing Sakura to turn around. “You never answered my question earlier. About reviving the fish.”

Lips twitching into the semblance of a smile, Sakura was amused by his persistence. She wondered why he cared to know. Holding up her index and middle finger, she told him, “Two times. Once to understand the process and the second to master it.” 

Her shishou would’ve accepted nothing less.

Waving goodbye, Sakura found Saburo waiting for her outside the Tower, and together they headed home. 

Sakura was ready for a bath. She’d just finished with her sixth patient of the day, an elderly Uchiha who’d lived a long and brutal life. He’d been mostly blind when he’d first come to her a month ago, but now, after his fourth healing session, he’d regained fifty percent of his vision. 

Whatever hold outs there had been within the clan against Sakura had swiftly given in as soon as the third man Madara had referred to her had walked out of the house with tears streaming down his cheeks and a hopeful glint in his eyes. It was hard to hate someone that had given you back your sight, your most powerful weapon. Not impossible, of course, there were still more than a few frosty shoulders, but on the whole the clan’s feelings towards their future matriarch had changed drastically. 

There was still one more patient to come see her before her clinic hours ended, so she forwent a bath and headed for the kitchen, looking for a wet rag to wipe herself down with. Maybe she’d find herself a quick snack too. 

Her last patient came an hour later, right on time. It was an older woman with joint pain. Sakura had met her yesterday in the market and promised her a special tea blend and a short healing session to help with the arthritis. Sakura couldn’t reverse the effects of arthritis, of old age, but she could help manage the pain. 

Once that was done and settled, Sakura found herself with nothing to do in a big, empty house. Miyoko was out buying a new sewing kit along with some other odds and ends. Izuna was down by the training grounds and would most likely stay there until sun down. And Madara was still at the Hokage Tower. He’d said today would be a light day, but it wouldn’t be the first time plans went awry. 

Sighing, Sakura considered her options. There was still plenty of sunlight left in the day. She could go for a walk by the river, or show her face in the market. Perhaps she’d join Izuna in his training. There were some new notes she wanted to jot down in her medical journal, but that could wait. Looming in the back of her mind were the unfinished blueprints for the hospital. She really did need to finalize those so Hashirama could get started on the building itself. 

Walking out towards the river, Sakura decided the task could keep for a while longer.

The Naka River was beautiful in the spring, with all the budding foliage and flowers surrounding it. Since the river ran across the outer boundary of the Uchiha lands, Sakura had never had the chance to appreciate it in her time. There would one day be a few training grounds placed along the river, but it was rare for Sakura’s team to use one of them over the training ground three.

Now though, she had the chance to revel in its beauty by taking a stroll along its bank, not caring in the least where it might lead her. 

It was peaceful by the river. The babbling of the stream and the chirps of many woodland birds crafted a soft lullaby. Without anyone to distract her, Sakura found her mind wandering everywhere and anywhere, from the past to the future. Her brain chewed on all her actions thus far and how they might change the future. Overall, she felt she was doing a good job avoiding the fate that befell her timeline, but the guilt that had planted itself in her soul earlier about Tsunade and her legacy had begun to grow. 

Was she doing too much? Did she need to stop? Sakura wasn’t sure she could stop, no matter how hard she tried. Even now, she was thinking of introducing a formal uniform for the medics under her tutelage. The men obviously had no issues coming into work as they were, but Sakura knew from experience that trying to work in a kimono, or even a yukata, was clumsy at best. They’d all need something much more efficient and official. 

So lost in her own thoughts, Sakura didn’t notice a small party of women walking in her direction until one of them stepped on a twig, its snap jolting Sakura into sharp awareness. 

Before her stood what she could only describe as a princess and her attendants. The woman leading the pack was a tall woman with wine-red hair tied up into two buns. Hanging from those buns were a pair of scroll tags and atop her head sat a bronze crown. The woman needed no introduction. She was Mito Uzumaki; Hashirama’s future wife, the first jinchuriki, and Tsunade’s beloved grandmother. 

She was every bit as regal as Sakura always imagined her to be. 

“You will bow to Mito-hime as you pass,” one of her four attendants said to Sakura, her nose tilted upwards. “As is deserving of her station.”

Sakura eyed the women warily. Mito didn’t seem concerned by her handmaid’s rudeness, and was in fact watching Sakura with her dark, dark eyes expectantly. Sliding her gaze towards the other three women in the group, she noted their soft hands, expensively embroidered kimonos, and geta sandals. From what she knew about the famous woman, Mito was known for her fuinjutsus and powerful chakra levels, not her fighting prowess. 

Standing at her full height, Sakura gave a single nod of her head, as she would do with anyone she’d just met. “It is nice to meet you, Mito-san. I am Haruno Sakura.”

Mito’s brows rose. “Haruno Sakura the healer?” Her eyes drifted up to her Byakugou seal. “Ah! Hashirama, my fiance, has told me all about you. It’s an honor to meet such an esteemed woman.”

Mito gave a bow of her head, prompting her hand maids to bow at the waist. Sakura really didn’t know what to make of this sudden change in demeanor. 

“Thank you,” she said a bit awkwardly. “I hadn’t realized the Hokage was engaged.” Sakura definitely would’ve heard about it by now. The man wasn’t exactly discreet.

Cheeks blushing the same color as her hair, the future jinchuriki tried to hide a smile behind her hand. “It was made official today.”

“Congratulations.” From what little she knew about her and Hashirama’s personal lives, they’d be quite happy in their marriage. Sakura looked over at the rude handmaid, wondering if these Uzumaki women would be happy with other aspects of the village. “Have you had a chance to meet other citizens of Konoha yet?”

The handmaid answered for Mito. “My lady will be making proper introductions with all clan heads tomorrow. It would not be appropriate for her to socialize with the commoners before then.”

Mito nodded. “You are the first woman of gentry that we’ve come across. I hear you are to marry the Uchiha clan head in a few months' time.”

Sakura frowned. “I see.” Mito had been so frosty just a moment ago. So distant. Was she only being this chatty because of who Sakura was marrying? If she’d just been a healer, what type of interaction would this be? 

All of her attendants were older. Much older, with gray hair and lines of time running across their faces. Sakura wondered if that had anything to do with the earlier snobbery. Perhaps without the influence of the crones, Mito would become the well loved and respected matriarch of Konoha that Sakura knew her to be. 

Perhaps Sakura could help speed up the process. “I’ve made some friends during my time in Konoha as well. Maybe a day or so after your official introductions I could introduce you to them.”

Mito’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that’d be wonderful.” One of the handmaids scowled at Sakura over Mito’s shoulder and another harrumphed at the idea. Sakura bit back a smirk. “Let’s plan for the day after tomorrow,” Mito said. “And perhaps afterwards, Hashirama and I could host you and Madara-san for dinner.”

“That sounds lovely.” It might take some strong arming to get Madara to attend, but attend he would. Bowing her head, Sakura said, “I’ll let you return to your walk now. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mito-san.”

“Same to you, Sakura-san.” 

“Please, just Sakura is fine.” She could live without the constant use of honorifics. 

Mito smiled. “Only if you provide me the same courtesy.”

“But Mito-hime!” The eldest attendant protested, but she was waved away. Lips pursing into a barely there line, she glared at Sakura with the might of a thousand suns. 

Just as Sakura was about to step away and continue her walk, Mito called on her once more. “I am curious,” she said with the narrowing of her eyes. “Hashirama told me that he initially thought you were related to the Uzumaki clan.”

Sakura nodded. “Because of the coloring of my hair. It was not uncommon for my people to have this shade.”

Well, it wasn’t uncommon for her immediate family anyway. The rest of Konoha…not so much. 

“Are you sure that you do not share any of my clan’s blood?” Mito frowned as her eyes drifted back up Sakura’s forehead. “I only ask because of our shared mark.”

Reaching up to touch the purple rhombus, Sakura remembered the day it had appeared. She’d been so happy. It’d taken years and years of discipline and perseverance. When Tsunade had seen it, she had cried. Now, before her shishou’s grandmother, looking at the seal that had inspired the creation of her own, she had to deny that connection. 

“There is not any Uzumaki blood running through my veins.” That much was the truth, but Sakura felt the need to add, “My shishou, though, the woman who trained me, wasn’t originally from my clan. She didn’t have the Uzumaki name, but it’s possible she had some connection.”

None of that was a lie. Senju Tsunade hadn’t been a part of the village until Sakura turned thirteen. And it was completely feasible for someone to not know of the Godaime Hokage’s Uzumaki heritage. Tsunade had never spoken of it herself, after all. Still, a small pit began to form in the bottom of her belly. 

Mito’s eyes flashed bright with intrigue. “How interesting. I’d love to meet this master of yours one day.”

Holding onto a smile that was feeling more and more brittle the longer it stayed on her face, Sakura shook her head. “That’s impossible, I’m afraid. I’m the last of my people.”

“Oh!” Mito blinked. Her brows furrowed in confusion, as if she couldn’t imagine such a reality. “I’m—I’m so sorry to hear that.”

Sakura nodded her thanks. The day was catching up to her though, and she needed to escape before the weight of all her secrets and regrets crushed her flat. “I’ll be on my way then. Enjoy your walk.”

With a quick promise not to forget their upcoming engagements, Sakura turned back towards the main house. She did so slowly, sluggishly, as if all the energy in her body had been leached out of her. All she wanted was to take a nice bath and lay down. 

Unfortunately, she returned home to a pair of angry Uchihas. 

“Tobirama will stop at nothing to learn our clan secrets,” Izuna spat. His face was red and his footsteps thundered against the wood as he prowled back and forth across the main room. “This is just another ploy to destroy us. I know it.”

“What’s going on?” Sakura asked, though hindsight would’ve told her to go straight to bed. 

Madara, seated at the chabudai and nursing a cup of tea, told her, “Senju Tobirama has proposed a new idea. A school where children of the village come to learn the basic arts of ninjutsu.”

“Oh, the academy?” Sakura took her seat at the table. “He was telling me about it this morning after training.” She shrugged and looked at Izuna. “I think it could be a good idea.”

Scoffing and lurching away from her as if her words burned him, Izuna’s voice grew louder as he said, “Don’t be a fool. Tobirama does nothing that does not benefit his clan. I will not allow him to pollute the minds of our children! I wouldn’t trust that man with my worst enemy, much less the next generation of Uchiha. Brother,” Izuna came to sit beside Madara. “You agree, don’t you? Nothing good will come of this.”

Sakura’s spine straightened and her shoulders had tensed at Izuna’s words. Without letting Madara answer, she challenged her future brother-in-law. “I’m no fool, Izuna. Tobirama is thinking of the village first, not just the clan.”

Izuna’s lip pulled back into an animalistic sneer. “You’re worse than a fool if you believe that.”

“ Izuna —” Madara tried to chastise.

Izuna pressed on, “Tobirama is the scum of the earth and anyone who supports him is the same.”

Now Sakura was getting angry. It was one thing for Izuna to be snappy or rude while in pain from his wounds, but they were well past that. Besides rebuilding his strength and stamina, he was entirely healed. This deluge of criticism was all due to his own prejudice. It was almost funny–he and Tobirama were two sides of the same coin. 

“You don’t get to talk to me like that!” Her nails dug into the wood of the chabudai as she tried to keep a handle on her temper. “Just because I’m not letting my bias cloud my judgment doesn’t mean I’m scum. I’m not–”

“You’re nothing!” Izuna shouted, baring his teeth. He leaned in to get into her face. “You’re not an Uchiha. You’re not a part of this family. You get no say!”

Reeling back as if she’d been slapped, Sakura felt tears burn as they welled up behind her eyes. Biting down on her lip hard enough to break skin, she looked away from Izuna. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to look at him again. 

“Izuna!” Madara’s hands slammed against the table. “That’s enough!” Grabbing Izuna by the collar of his haori, Madara dragged him to the hallway. “Go cool off and do not come back until you return to your senses!”

Faster than her eyes could track, Madara returned to her side. Hesitantly, as if afraid she wouldn’t let him touch her, Madara reached out to wipe away her tears. “Oh, Sakura,” Madara whispered. His brows furrowed and despair screamed out from behind his gaze. “I’m so sorry. He didn't mean it.” Wrapping his arm around her shoulders to pull her close to his chest, he pressed a kiss to her brow and murmured, “I swear he didn’t mean it.”

Sakura sat there, listening to Madara’s heartbeat. The organ had quickened with adrenaline. It’s fast and steady rhythm was a comfort beneath her cheek. Madara continued to press kisses against the crown of her head, her brow, her temple. Anywhere he could reach. Apologies and assurances poured from his lips. 

As Sakura sat there, like some broken rag doll, she thought about what Izuna had said. What Madara was currently saying. Izuna wasn’t so brash as to say things without meaning. He chose his words with precision, throwing them as accurately and as deadly as he would kunai. His words had been designed to hurt, to maim. 

“Izuna can get like this sometimes,” Madara said, his lips pressed against her hair. “He lets his anger get the best of him. Once he has some time to think, he’ll return with his tail tucked between his legs.”

“Maybe,” Sakura said, though she didn’t believe it.

She thought back to the day she healed him, when he’d been so enraged by the idea that a Senju had come to heal him that he tried to kill her. He’d have rather died than be healed by his enemy. Now that she shared an opinion with Tobirama, would he dismiss her too?

Wiping her face clean, Sakura sniffled pathetically as she asked, “What do you think about it? The academy?”

Madara carded his finger through her hair and hummed in thought. “I’m wary, I can’t lie. It does seem to be the perfect opportunity for the Senju or other clans to steal our secrets, to learn about the Sharingan’s weaknesses.”

It was understandable to be wary. Sakura knew that. Madara was responsible for an entire clan. Their safety was his top priority. If she were in his position, she’d be wary too. She just so happened to have future knowledge that this idea of Tobirama’s would be a success. 

Then she thought about the Uchiha massacre, and the heavy hand that Danzo and the rest of the council had in eradicating this clan. Maybe she didn’t know that much after all. 

Nuzzling further into Madara’s arms, wishing she could hide here forever, Sakura sighed. “I’ll support you whatever you decide. You know that, right?”

Madara chuckled, the reverberations making her skin tingle. “I do.” He gave her shoulders a squeeze. “You truly think the idea has merit?”

“I do.”

His response was a rumbling hum. Sakura felt the pit that had been steadily growing inside her stomach start to chip away. Madara’s high esteem of her opinions was one of the many reasons she loved him. He’d take her thoughts on the matter seriously. 

“I’m sure some of my trainees would love the idea of a ninja school. Especially little Yamanaka Inoko.”

“Perhaps,” Madara agreed easily enough. “I doubt her clan will let her attend though.” 

Sakura nodded. Madara wasn’t wrong. It would be up to her clan head. But still, she had hope. “They let her join the medical corps.”

“Yes, but that’s different. The medics will stay protected within the village. Shinobi will be expected to go out and risk their lives. It’s no job for a woman.”

Sakura froze, her muscles locking into place. Pulling back just enough to look him in the eye, she asked, “What do you mean by that?”

“I know your people did things a bit differently, at least when it came to you, but most ninja clans wouldn’t dare teach their women to fight. It’s unbecoming.”

“Why shouldn’t women be allowed to fight? To defend themselves? How is that unbecoming?” Sakura fully separated herself from Madara, feeling much too hot all of a sudden. Her blood felt like it was boiling beneath her skin, as if she might self combust at any moment. 

“They do not need to defend themselves. If their clan is strong then the men will do it for them.” Madara titled his head. His dark eyes gazed at her with such confusion. “Only the desperate put their women in such danger.”

Fuck that. 

Standing abruptly, Sakura felt hot, angry tears reappearing behind her eyes. She did her best to hold them back but knew it was only a matter of time before they spilled over. “My people weren’t weak. Or desperate,” she choked out. 

“Sakura, I didn’t mean–”

“What about if we have daughters?” Sakura asked, her voice drowning out his. “What if they want to learn to fight?” Would they even have a choice? Or would they be pushed off to the side?” Sakura had worked so hard to become the shinobi that she was. Not just a healer. A shinobi . She thought Madara saw that, respected it. Admired it! But she was just an exception to his rule.

“I am not against teaching them simple self defense,” Madara reasoned, “but I see no reason to teach them serious jutsus or genjutsus.”

Bile burned its way up Sakura’s esophagus as a memory, buried deep in her past, rose up. After graduating from the Academy, gaining Kakashi as a teacher, surviving the battles in Mist, Sakura had walked into the Forest of Death with more than simple self defense. That wasn’t enough to help her or her teammates. It hadn’t even been close. 

“It’s dangerous, Sakura, surely you see that.”

“The world is a dangerous place, Madara,” she spat. “Sheltering half the population isn’t going to change that!”

Standing up, Madara glared at her, his eyes flashing red with his frustration. “That’s how we survive, Sakura! Killing the men may set the population back a generation or two, killing the women ensures the destruction of the clan.”

“Then make them harder to kill!” 

Not able to listen to any more of Madara’s excuses or flawed logic, Sakura covered her face with her hands. If the sky fell down upon her at that very moment, she doubted she would notice the added weight on her chest. She knew living in the past would be challenging. She knew that people of this time had different philosophies and principles than the ones she’d grown up with, but this was becoming more than she could handle. Could she really spend the rest of her life with someone that disagreed with her on something as important as this?

“I need fresh air,” she said, then turned heel to leave. 

Madara followed. “I’ll have someone–”

“Alone!” Sakura told him sternly, without looking back at him. She knew that if she looked at him, she’d only find worry and concern, and that would make her resolve crumble. She needed time to herself. She needed to sit with her anger and think. 

Sakura ended up walking around the gardens three times before finally coming to a stop at her favorite little island. Madara had kept his word and installed a bench beneath one of the trees, and so Sakura took a seat and looked out across the water at the main house. Now that she’d had some time to cool off, she allowed her brain to pick apart the entirety of her conversation with Madara. 

Kunoichis would eventually become normalized. Sakura knew that. There would come a day when women weren’t viewed as breakable objects, but independents capable of holding their own. She was already speeding up Konoha’s timeline in terms of medical practices by at least fifty years. She should be happy with just that. Why couldn’t she be happy with that?

She thought back to her experience with the Chuunin exams. After Orochimaru had taken out both Sasuke and Naruto, it had been up to her to defend her teammates. To keep them alive. Even with all her training and traps, they had only survived due to pure luck and the help of several friends. Fighting against the kids from Sound–giving it everything she had and then some–had been eye opening for her. It was what made her realize she hadn’t been taking her training seriously at all; that she was a liability. 

That fear, that sense of uselessness, had sunk deep into her marrow. She’d never wanted to feel that way again. So now, with the prospect of children on the horizon, Sakura found that she couldn’t just sit idly by and allow her potential daughters to have such a future. She loved Madara, and knew he loved her. He’d been a great supporter of her abilities, ideas, and so much more, but if he couldn’t support her in this, there was no future for them.

The sun had set and the night was proving cold. Folding her arms over her chest, Sakura huddled into herself for warmth. If she stayed out much longer, she’d have to start circulating her chakra. In the end, she didn’t need to, because a thick blanket suddenly covered her shoulders and Madara, quiet as death, sat beside her. 

Madara didn’t speak, didn’t try to engage her in conversation. He just sat, and waited; silently telling her that he was there for her once she was ready to talk. She loved him for it, and her heart twisted painfully at that reminder. 

Eventually, Sakura broke the silence. “Do you remember when we first met? You thought I was frightened of you.”

“You said I reminded you of someone.” Madara watched as Sakura nodded, then waited for her to continue speaking. When she didn’t, he asked, “Who did I remind you of, Sakura?”

“You reminded me of the man that killed my clan.”

Sakura thought back to the day she met Uchiha Madara. She’d been weary from Pain’s assault on Konoha. The hospital had already been overwhelmed and spirits were low. Then, a ghost had appeared and unleashed hell upon their doorstep. She’d done a good job separating that man from the man before her, the man she loved. Her bringing it up now wasn’t meant to reconnect the two Madaras in her mind, but to explain why his words had upset her so much. 

“He came from nowhere, and was so full of hate, and–” she cut herself off with a harsh shake of her head. She couldn’t go into all the details, and she didn’t want to lie more than she had to. “The only reason I’m alive is because of this.” She tapped her Byakugou Seal. “Because once upon a time, a great woman was taught to fight, because she gifted me with her knowledge. Without her, without that opportunity, I’d be just as dead as everyone else.”

She looked over at Madara and found him watching her intently. “You’re right–a clan dies with its women. My people live on because of me. I can’t pass on the name, but this idea that women can be just as capable as men, can protect themselves just as well, I can pass that on. It’s important for me to do so, Madara. Even if it’s just with my own children.”

The silence returned, settling uncomfortably between them. Sakura wondered if this was it for them. If it was, it’d be hard to stay in Konoha. It’d be best if she slipped away and continued her travels as a no-named medicine woman. Perhaps she’d leave some of her notes with Tobirama. Then, at least, someone could carry on with her projects. 

“This isn’t easy for me.” Madara admitted while he looked down at the hands folded in his lap. “I was raised with the idea that women were to be protected at all costs. That anything less than that was dishonorable.”

Sakura wanted to challenge that, to tell him it wasn’t dishonorable at all but instead respected a woman’s autonomy and ability. She bit down on her tongue, though. Now wasn’t the time for debate. Now was the time for listening.

“I hope you know that I see you, Sakura, for all that you are.” He looked at her with such bright, hopeful eyes. “You are my match in every way, and I wouldn’t change a thing about you. When I learned of your strength, of your seal,” his eyes flickered up, “I cannot describe the amount of relief I felt, knowing that no matter what, you would survive. That you wouldn’t be stolen from me as so many other loved ones have been. If we are lucky enough to have daughters, then they are sure to be as ferocious and formidable as their mother.”

He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I would be proud to have such daughters.”

Placing her own hand over his and holding it against her cheek, Sakura released a shaky breath. “Really?”

“I swear to the gods, it is the truth.”

Sakura searched his eyes for any doubts, any signs that he might be lying to her or to himself. When she found none, she leaned in for a kiss. “I love you, Madara.”

Madara’s arm snaked around Sakura’s shoulders, pulling her closer. Breathlessly, he pleaded, “Say it again. Please.”

Humming, Sakura smiled at him and gladly repeated herself, “I love you.”

Madara’s eyes closed as a shudder ran through his body. When his eyes opened, his lips parted, and he looked on the verge of saying the words back. The moment passed though, and the words died on his tongue. This, Sakura didn’t mind. The day would come when Madara would be able to say those three treasured words to her. In the meantime, she was happy enough to lean in for another kiss. 

It had been a strange week since her fights with the Uchiha brothers. While she and Madara had properly laid everything to rest, he’d become busier than ever these past few days. He’d mentioned something about a long overdue project that needed immediate attending, and was seldom found at the house. 

As for Izuna, Sakura had no idea. She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him since he’d accused her of being a traitor, and not for lack of trying. The younger Uchiha was always somehow up and out of the house before Sakura awoke and returned sometime after she went to sleep. One night she even stayed awake, trying to hear the man’s return so she could finally confront him, but either his return was too discreet for her to hear or he never came home that evening. 

Madara claimed it was Izuna’s shame keeping him away, that he didn’t know how to face her. Sakura wanted to believe him, but couldn’t. In the year that she had known him, Izuna had never been shy about sharing his thoughts, and he wasn’t the type to run away from a fight. Avoiding her now could only mean one thing; he’d meant what he said. She wasn’t a part of his family. Maybe he no longer wanted her to be. 

She had tried to take her mind off of it by burying herself in her work with Tobirama, finalizing the details on the hospital, and checking up on her patients within the clan. Miyoko had mentioned more than once that she was pushing herself too hard, but when there was nothing waiting for her at home and an overabundance of anxious energy coursing through her veins, what else was she to do? 

When the weekly dinner with Miyoko and Masaru came around, she wanted to show her gratitude to the two of them. Instead of letting Miyoko make the dinner, Sakura insisted on doing it herself. She made sure that she had no pressing appointments or training that afternoon so she could arrive at Masaru’s home early to begin preparations. It was slow goings at first–Sakura hadn’t cooked for herself in a long while, much less for others–but she got there in the end. 

“My, my my,” Masaru said as he admired the plates of food Sakura brought to the table. “Fried rice, crab, grilled squid–what’s the occasion?”

“Nothing too special,” Sakura said as she took her seat and began doling food onto everyone’s plates. “I just wanted to give my thanks to the two of you, for always looking out for me and treating me like family.”

Miyoko helped pour the miso soup. “We treat you like family because you are family, Sakura-sama.”

Masaru wheezed out a laugh, “Yeah, you’re stuck with us. Whether you like it or not. And did I see you making dango as well?” He asked, eyeing a leftover plate resting in the kitchen.

Sakura nodded. “For dessert. It’s my favorite,” she said with a wide grin. “I know my cooking is nowhere near as good as Miyoko’s, but I make a mean dango.”

Miyoko tutted. “Your food is delicious, Sakura-sama.”

“But not as delicious as yours!”

Masaru nodded seriously, “Miyoko was blessed by the gods of flavor. But hey!” He slapped his hand on the table and pointed at the squid, “This is nothing to snuff at either!” His eyes grew misty as he said, “I’m so lucky to have such talented nieces. I shall never go hungry a day in my life.”

“Oh, Uncle,” Miyoko laughed. 

The three of them dug into their food, trading stories of their days and village gossip just as easily as they passed food around the table. Once they finished their sticks of dango, Sakura found herself reluctant to leave. Madara had informed her he’d be working late with Hashirama tonight, and with Izuna treating her like a plague-bearer, she knew she’d be returning home to a dark and empty house. She wasn’t looking forward to it. 

“Why don’t we all take a walk.” Miyoko suggested. “It’s quite a lovely night for it, don’t you think?”

“That sounds like a great idea!” Masaru hopped to his feet and waved at the dishes. “I’ll take care of these once I get back.” Sakura tried to argue with him, but he was practically pushing her out the door. “No, no. I insist. You made the meal, the least I can do is clean up.”

Sakura pursed her lips, but let herself be corralled out into the night. It wasn’t terribly unusual for Miyoko to suggest an after-dinner activity. Sometimes it’d be walks, sometimes a game of shogi, every now and then they’d play a few rounds of charades. In the past, however, any time a walk was suggested, Masaru would flat out refuse. He was too old, he’d say. Let him rest after a long day in the fields. After some convincing from Miyoko he would always join, but it was never something he agreed to with such enthusiasm as he did now. 

“What’s going on?” Sakura asked, her eyes narrowing as she followed Miyoko down the street. “Why is Uncle acting so strange?”

“Me? Strange?” Masaru clutched at the fabric over his heart. “Never!”

Sakura tried to catch Miyoko’s eye, but the other woman kept her gaze steadfast on the road before them. “I just thought a walk would be nice.”

They took the long way back towards the main house, strolling past several homes and even some storehouses until they were stopped by the Naka river. Following the current, they eventually made it onto Madara’s land. Instead of taking the quickest route to the house though, Miyoko led them through the gardens. 

Normally Sakura loved a leisurely stroll with her friends, but tonight felt weird. She knew nothing bad was coming, but she knew something was coming. Keeping her eyes peeled and her ears open, Sakura tried to figure out what that something was. 

They made it to Sakura’s favorite little island when she noticed something across the water. Only, it was too far and too dark for her to see properly. Someone had lit some torches, but she didn’t see anyone on the other side of the pond. “What is that?”

“Don’t go ruining the surprise now with your mumbo-jumbo-ninja nonsense,” Masaru chastised. 

Miyoko finally turned to look at her, a warm smile on her face. “Please, Sakura-sama, contain your curiosity for just a little longer. 

It was a tough ask, but Sakura did her best. They finally made their way to the back of the house, where there was a small zen garden. Sakura had passed it many times before, sat at one of the benches a time or two when needing to meditate, but had never taken too much notice of it before. Now, though, there was something new nestled between two large boulders. Stepping closer, she gasped when she saw what it was. 

It was a memorial stone. Smooth, polished gray stone reflected a vision of herself, but it wasn’t her image that had her rapt attention. It was the engraving upon the stone. Raising a shaky hand, Sakura traced the familiar circle to its completion, and then moved to kanji above it. “Haruno,” she read. 

“I told you,” Madara’s voice drifted over her like the tide upon the beach, “the Uchiha take care of their dead. I’m sorry it took me so long to build this for you, Sakura.”

Turning to face her betrothed, Sakura’s breath was once again stolen from her lungs by the sight before her. Torches had been lit throughout the grounds, illuminating the gardens and showing Sakura just how many Uchiha clansmen were in attendance for the surprise unveiling.

“How are you all–what is everyone–” She looked to Madara for answers. 

Stepping closer, Madara took her hand and waved an arm across the numerous people. “They’re here for you, to honor you and your clan.”

There was Saburo with his family, grinning widely at her. Over by the bridge to cross the pond stood Miyoko and Masaru. Izanagi, Taro, and Homura were waving in the back. Familiar face upon familiar face. People she had talked to in the market, clients she’d made house calls for, shinobi she’d treated in this very house, they had all come to show their support and to help recognize her clan. 

Someone behind her cleared their throat. Turning, Sakura found herself face to face with Izuna for the first time since their fight. Brows furrowed and his bottom lip jutting out, Izuna shoved a handful of snapdragons into her hands. “For the memorial stone,” he grumbled. 

Then, with a twitch of his brows and a huff of breath, he locked eyes with her and said, “I’m sorry for what I said. I–” he inhaled, and when he exhaled his shoulders slumped. Sincerity illuminated his dark eyes. “I truly am sorry, Sakura. I hurt you, and I regret that.”

Sakura didn’t need to hear anything else. Throwing her arms around his shoulders, she pulled him in for a bone crushing hug that had him groaning in pain. “Sorry, sorry,” she said as she released him. Wiping away a stray tear, she let out a breathy laugh as she told him, “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

Rubbing at his ribs, Izuna nodded. “I promise.”

Turning back to all her guests, Sakura didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t believe they were all here for her. For her people. She could still remember the first day she’d gone into the market. She’d felt so lonely and cold, worried she’d never be accepted. Now, with so many familiar and friendly faces before her, she realized she was more than just accepted. She was loved. 

“Thank you for coming, everyone!” She moved closer to Madara so she could retake his hand. “You don’t know what this means to me. I–I love you all very much and–” her vision became cloudy with tears. A wobbly smile stretched across her face, and Sakura bowed low so everyone knew her sincerity in her words, “thank you so much for welcoming me into your family.”

People in the crowd cheered, some whistled, and Madara motioned for sake to be served. Slowly, throughout the night, small gifts were left at the memorial stone. A ring, a flower, a paper crane. It was more than Sakura ever thought the memory of her people would get. It was a wonderful evening, filled with cheer and affection. 

After an hour of being thanked for her medical help, or applauded for her work in the village, or praised for her patience with their beloved patriarch and his brother, Sakura made her way back to Madara’s side. Sliding her arm through his, she leaned into him and kissed his shoulder with a sigh. “This was the happiest night in my life, Madara. Thank you again.”

Wrapping his free arm around her shoulders, Madara pulled Sakura into his chest and placed a kiss atop her brow. “Do not thank me. I should have had something made for your people earlier than this.”

“The timeline doesn’t matter to me. The fact that you did it is enough.”

Madara hummed, sounding very much like a contented cat. “As you say. I want you to be prepared though, because tonight won’t rank as the happiest night of your life for much longer.”

Leaning back to frown up at him, Sakura asked, “Oh?”

Grinning devilishly, Madara said simply, “That spot will soon be won by our wedding night.”

Throwing her head back to laugh, Sakura realized he was right. Her grin matched his as she reached up on her tiptoes. Her lips hovered just over his. Not quite a kiss, but close enough for Madara’s arms to tighten around her. 

Voice no louder than a whisper, she told him, “I can’t wait.”