forward, always

Sakura leaned back on her calves and surveyed her work. Overturned soil stretched out before her, rich and dark and ready to be used. Right now it was just an empty patch of earth, but in a few weeks it would be lush with life. Once the weather turned warm enough, Madara had shown Sakura the plot of land that had once belonged to his mother’s garden. Sakura planned to fill it with herbs and flowers that could be used to make teas and poultice. Madara had promised her that one day soon they’d venture off into the village market together so she could collect her seeds. Perhaps she’d convince him to finally try something from the new sweets shop that’d just opened. It’d be like a little date.

Raising her arms up and stretching her back like a cat, Sakura relished the feel of the warm sun on her skin. Her wedding to Madara was just a few weeks away now, and she hoped that day was as nice and temperate as it was now. Sakura wiped her dirty hands against the skirt of her green kimono and looked around to appreciate the cherry blossoms in full bloom. Although Sakura didn’t want to be married in the spring because she’d blend in with the pink blossoms, she did quite love her namesake. 

There was nothing more for her to do today without the seeds, so she returned home to the main house to clean up. She had just finished washing her hands and forearms of all the debris when Saburo slammed through the shoji door, eyes wide and chest heaving with panic. “Sakura-sama! Come quick–you’re needed at the Hokage tower!”

Years and years of training taught Sakura not to ask questions. Telling Saburo to lead the way, Sakura trailed after him as quickly as she could follow. Which, thanks to Madara and his leg weights, was pretty quick. As the trees turned into a myriad of green and pink blurs around them, Sakura wondered what had happened. Someone had to be hurt, but who? The Hokage? Tobirama? Izuna had been sent out on a mission just the other day, but that was supposed to be low risk. Frowning, Sakura recalled her first mission with Team Seven. That had started out as low risk as well. 

Asking Saburo questions now would only slow them down. He most likely wouldn’t be able to answer her most important ones anyway. Questions like how bad the damage was, or if the wound had been caused by a weapon or chakra. He was just a messenger. The most he could tell her was who it was that was hurt, and, at the end of the day, that didn’t matter. 

Or so she thought. 

“Madara!” 

Lying still on the floor of the Hokage’s office, with blood splattered across his chest and hardly any life in his face, was Madara. 

Chains of fear shackled themselves to Sakura’s limbs, weighing her down and pinning her in place. This wasn’t happening. This couldn't be happening. Rushing to his side, Sakura’s mind ran a mile a minute as her chakra seeped into his body. 

A groan escaped his lips and his eyes fluttered open. Wearily, Madara blinked at his betrothed and muttered, “Sak’ra?”

“Don’t try to talk yet,” she ordered. Was this her doing? She’d never read about an attack of this level on Madara. Had she somehow changed enough in this timeline to bring this about? Shaking her head, she looked up at the men standing around uselessly. Hashirama was kneeling by Madara’s head. Tobirama stood far away in a corner of the room. There were several recognizable clan heads in the room as well, all staring at her with wide eyed shock. 

 “Everyone out except the Hokage.” Sakura ordered. When a second passed by and no one moved, she growled, “Now!”

Tripping over themselves and each other to escape, they looked like bumbling school children rather than elite shinobi. Once the room was clear, Sakura turned to Hashirama and asked, “What happened?”

“It was an assassination attempt,” Tobirama answered as he returned from shuffling the last of the others out of the room. Sakura hadn’t asked for him to stay, but, catching the stubborn glint in his eyes, she knew it was useless to try and get him to leave. 

“Will he live?” Hashirama asked, his lips trembling and pale. “We called for our medics.” His eyes snapped up to meet hers. “Oh, Sakura, I didn’t want you to see this. I called for our medics so—”

“Uchiha Saburo is fast,” Tobirama interrupted. “He got to you faster than my messenger got to the Senju medics.”

“I’m glad he did.” Regardless of how shocking it was to see Madara in that state initially, she wouldn’t want anyone else looking after him. Looking back to Hashirama, she assured him, “Madara will be fine.”

The wound in his chest had been wholly weapon based, which was good. Weapon based injuries were easier to heal than chakra wounds. “He’ll need a week of rest, at least, but he’ll be fine.”

Hashirama’s lower lip wobbled and his dark eyes glistened with tears. It was touching to see how much Hashirama cared for his childhood friend. It truly seemed like his heart would break if anything happened to Madara. “Will it affect your wedding? You won’t have to postpone it will you?” 

Before Sakura could give an answer, a deep groan from the man before her caught everyone’s attention. “No postponing.” 

“I told you not to talk.” Sakura chided, but only half heartedly. There was more color in his cheeks now, and his stubbornness was a good sign. The wound on his chest had sealed shut and Sakura did one more scan on his vitals to make sure he was stable before pulling her hands away. Brushing his hair away from his face, she said, “Don’t scare me like that again.”

Closing his eyes to lean into her touch, Madara sighed so softly it was almost a purr. “I’ll do my best.” 

His breathing evened out and quicker than Sakura could blink, he was asleep. 

Fingers mindlessly playing with his hair, Sakura looked up at Hashirama again and once more asked, “What happened?”

Much calmer now, Hashirama nodded and explained, “Madara and I were surveying the border of the village. We’ve been thinking of expanding west and wanted to see what the new territory might look like.” He paused to wet his lips, then shook his head. “The man was like a demon. He appeared from the shadow of the trees and caught me off guard. Madara saw him coming and stepped in to take the blow for me.”

Hashirama sighed, his shoulder slumping low. Guilt shone brightly in his dark eyes as he gazed down at his exhausted friend. “I wish he hadn’t. I could’ve taken the hit.”

For a moment, Sakura thought the Shodaime was just saying that out of a sense of pride or regret. Hashirama must have sensed her thoughts, too, because he looked up, without a trace of arrogance and said, “Mortal weapons cannot kill me.”

Sakura blinked. “What?”

Lips thinning into a straight line, Hashirama pulled a kunai from inside his yukata and cut into his wrist. Blood pooled at the sight, red and thick like some tainted river, but Sakura watched as the wound knitted itself closed. 

“It's because my chakra…” he paused, then shrugged helplessly, “is what it is.”

It took more than a moment for Sakura to understand what she was seeing. She’d heard that the first Hokage healed faster than average and was an incredibly vital person, but self healing? Even Tsunade couldn’t do that without her seals. Suddenly Sakura wondered if that’s what inspired her mentor in the first place.

It was no wonder he’d earned the title God of Shinobi. The man was practically indestructible.

There had always been an air of mystery around Senju Hashirama’s death. He’d died young and no one ever explained how or why. Most assumed someone had beat him in battle before the First Shinobi War, but who would defeat the greatest ninja in the world and not claim the kill? Sakura thought about the Byakugou Seal and how it shortened the life span of whoever activated it by forcing the division of cells in order to heal. Perhaps that was what was happening to Hashirama. Perhaps it isn’t a foe that kills him, but his own healing ability that cuts his life so short. 

“I see,” Sakura eventually said. “That’s…interesting.” 

“I hope you don’t get any strange ideas in your head,” Tobirama said, his red eyes narrowed. “My brother isn’t some fish you can dissect.”

“It never even crossed my mind,” she said with a glare. Dismissing Tobirama by returning her attention to Hashirama, she got back to the matter at hand. “Do we have the assassin? Do we know where he’s from?”

Hashirama grimaced, then rubbed at his jaw. “Unfortunately he got away. I would’ve chased after him, but…” he looked down at Madara. 

Sakura nodded in understanding. To pursue the attacker would’ve meant leaving Madara to die. 

“Based on his hitai-ate we know he’s from Takigakure.” Tobirama said as he moved towards the window, his gaze far, far away. “We’re not exactly sure where that hidden village lies, but we know it’s been around for at least a few years now.”

Hashirama sighed. “They must feel threatened by the creation of another village.”

Tobirama turned and leaned against the window, his arms folding over his chest. “They feel threatened by you , brother.”

Hashirama stayed quiet. Sakura could understand their concern. A new hidden village, already full of multiple, powerful clans lead by a man of legendary status. Of course they’d be scared. Of course they’d want Hashirama out of the way. Still, to send an assassin so brazenly…

“Wait,” Sakura’s brows converged as she asked, “Where did you say the assassin was from again?”

“Takigakure.”

The Village Hidden by a Waterfall. Sakura’s mouth turned dry as she realized that could only mean one thing. Kakuzu. Kakashi had told her how the missing-nin bragged about battling the Shodaime in his youth. She’d forgotten about the little historic detail because, at the time, it had been irrelevant. Now, with Madara resting on the floor before her, it no longer felt little or irrelevant. 

Sakura weighed the pros and cons of sharing her knowledge, and decided it’d be best to keep Kakuzu’s identity to herself. She had no business knowing the assassin’s name or anything about Takigakure for that matter. It would only make her look suspicious, and Tobirama had barely just begun to trust her. 

“What will you do?” She asked Hashirama. 

“We’ve called on the clans to send more men to increase patrols for the next fortnight. Once Madara is back on his feet we’ll have a meeting with the council to determine our next move.”

“An attack on our Hokage can only mean one thing,” Tobirama growled, his face darkening ominously. 

“I will not lead Konoha into war rashly,” Hashirama said, his voice stern. “We must first give Takigakure a chance to defend themselves.”

Tobirama scoffed. “You are too soft, brother! If we don’t rise to Waterfall’s challenge we’ll be informing the entire shinobi world that we’re weak and open to attack.”

Hashirama stood to look his brother in the eye. Although the dark haired man was barely twenty-six, he looked twice that in this moment. “And if we retaliate senselessly we risk driving away potential allies.”

“Allies?” Tobirama repeated, his face turning red. The veins in his neck stood out against the darkening skin as he prepared his response.

“Alright you two,” Sakura interrupted with her best no-nonsense voice, the one she reserved for her worst patients, like Kakashi. “Take a break and continue this when you’ve cleared your heads. For now, remember that everyone is safe and that we have a patient on the floor.”

Both men looked properly chastised, with Tobirama returning to look out the window and Hashirama taking a deep breath. Sakura stood and opened the office door to summon Saburo. “I’m taking Madara home to recuperate. I’ll fill him in on everything you’ve told me and I’ll let you know when I’ve cleared him to return to work. In the meantime,” she wagged a finger between the two of them, “sort yourselves out.”

With Madara placed on Saburo’s back, Sakura led the way out of the office and back home. 

Sakura’s fingers carded their way through Madara’s thick hair as he rested with his head on her lap. She’d just finished scanning his eyes for any new signs of inflammation or chakra burns, and even though the process had only lasted half an hour, it had lulled him into a light doze. 

From their spot on the engawa, Sakura had a perfect view of the gardens. The striking greenery of the trees mixed with vibrant pops of colors from the cherry blossoms, wisteria, and hydrangeas made for a beautiful scene. The pond glimmered like diamonds under the warm rays of the sun. It was a beautiful, peaceful afternoon. 

A soft breeze blew through, carrying scattered leaves and fallen petals with it. They swirled and danced about, leading Sakura’s attention to the zen garden where the Haruno memorial stone stood out against the foliage. Seeing its presence even these many weeks later still caused a smile to overtake her face. Chest fluttering with an overabundance of joy and contentedness, Sakura leaned down to pepper Madara’s face in kisses. 

Chuckling his way out of his slumber, Madara wondered, “What’s brought this on?”

“Numerous things,” Sakura answered him. “Too many to count.” She pressed a kiss against his lips. 

Madara hummed, his hand cupping the back of Sakuras’s head to keep her in place. His tongue skimmed against her lips, requesting access. Sakura moaned as she granted it to him.

Pulling away with panted breath, Madara looked up at her with dark, heated eyes. “I cannot wait for the day I can call you wife.”

Sakura ran the pad of her thumb across his lower lip, appreciating its softness. If only they were back in her time, they wouldn’t have to wait for formalities or titles like husband and wife. Sakura could ravage him then and there without a second thought. 

“There you two are!” Izuna’s voice met their ears. 

Sakura pulled her thumb from Madara’s mouth and Madara sat up. Another breeze blew through, helping Sakura cool down.  

Walking along the engawa towards them, Izuna looked in dire need of a bath. His dark hair was matted down with sweat and grime, dried mud caked his skin, and parts of his clothes were torn from his body.

“Please tell me you saw a healer.”

Izuna grinned something awful. “If only that I could, dear sister, but unfortunately the only ones at hand were Senju and, well,” he trailed off with a shrug. “Besides, it’s only a few scrapes.”

Rolling her eyes, Sakura motioned for him to come closer so she could verify that for herself. 

“One of these days you’ll have to accept the fact that the Senju are our allies now,” Madara said with a sigh. “They’re here to help.”

Izuna snorted. “The day I accept their help is the day pigs fly from my ass.” 

“What a beautiful picture,” Sakura drawled as she pulled her hands away, content with his level of health. “How was your mission?”

“Have you debriefed Hashirama yet?”

“It was boring, and no,” Izuna pointedly told Madara. “It wasn’t important enough to warrant an in person report. I’ll write something up this evening.”

Madara frowned. “Izuna—”

“It was just an escort mission, brother, really. There and back again without so much as a suspicious glance thrown our way.”

Judging by the look on his face, Madara wasn’t mollified by his younger brother’s reassurance. A muscle in his jaw twitched against his skin and Sakura could just make out the tightness around his eyes. 

He must have decided this wasn’t a battle worth fighting, though, because he simply shook his head. “Very well. Go on and clean yourself up then.”

“I will, I will,” Izuna promised. “I wanted to see you with my own eyes first.” A grin cut its way across his mouth as his eyes flickered between the couple. “I hear my dear brother was nearly on death's door and yet I find him safe at home in the arms of his lover.”

The faintest of blushes spread across Madara’s cheeks, causing Izuna’s grin to widen into something more lupine. 

“Who told you he was injured?” Sakura asked. A small sun had ignited beneath her face and she was sure she burned brighter than Madara but she did her best to ignore it.

“One of the merchants. He was leaving as I was coming and I heard him talking to one of the gate guards about the incident.” His eyes, without even a trace of the mirth that had been there a moment before, honed in on his brother. “You are alright, aren’t you?”

Madara nodded. “I was in no danger once Sakura arrived.”

Sakura frowned, “You make it sound like I’m a miracle worker.”

“Aren’t you?” Madara asked with a raised brow.

“No. I’m a medic.” She swatted at his arm. “I’m a good medic—”

“The best,” Izuna chimed in.

“—but there are things even I can’t heal. Like death. So don’t get cocky.” She pointed a finger at both the Uchiha brothers. “Either of you.” 

Izuna raised his hands in surrender. “We’d never dream of getting cocky. Would we, Madara?” He shared a knowing look with his brother. “However, you will need to get used to the miracle worker title.”

Narrowing her eyes, Sakura asked, “Why?”

Izuna shrugged, “Because that’s what everyone is calling you.” He stroked his chin in mock thought. “Though some do refer to you as the Angel of the Uchiha.”

A hundred questions must’ve shown on her face, because Madara explained, “You pulled Izuna back from death’s door, Sakura. From a wound dealt by Senju Tobirama, no less. That’s no small feat.”

“And with your work with the hospital and healing all the clan’s ailments, word has gotten around. Your name has traveled far and wide.”

Sakura hummed, digesting their words. She didn’t like being referred to as an angel or a miracle worker. It gave people the wrong idea. Set their hopes up too high. She wasn’t lying when she said she couldn’t cure everything. Sakura knew from first hand experience that she couldn’t save everyone. 

Unable to hold anyone’s gaze, Sakura’s mind flashed to those terrible last few weeks in the hospital during her own time. It had been brimming with bodies during Pain’s attack, and then it only became worse when Madara arrived. Sakura’s hands fisted into the fabric of her skirt as she remembered the smell of death that permeated the air, taking over even the strongest smell of antiseptic.  Hallways were filled with beds and moans of pain and anguish. There hadn’t been enough of anything–bandages, clean sheets, chakra. 

Sakura remembered how her hands shook as she held Naruto’s bare heart and willed it to keep beating. She’d been helpless to do anything more than that even as Sasuke lay bleeding out beside them. There had been many times throughout her life that Sakura had felt useless, but never so poignant as in that moment. 

Placing his hand on hers, Madara loosened her fist and slid his fingers between her own. “Sakura has a point,” he said easily. “She is a valuable asset to the clan and village but we shouldn’t become complacent.”

Izuna hummed lazily. “As you say.” He stretched his arms high above his head until something popped. “One more thing—”

“Isn’t it time you bathed?” Madara interrupted, his face twisting into a sneer. “I’m sure whatever is on your mind can wait.”

Izuna waved him off. “Tell me about the assassin and I’ll go.”

Madara sighed. “There’s not much to tell unfortunately. He was from the Village Hidden in a Waterfall and he was after Hashirama. Everything else is conjecture.”

“Conjecture, huh?” The younger Uchiha crossed his arms and thumbed at his bottom lip thoughtfully. “What’s to be done about it?”

Sakura had been wondering the same thing. Madara, Hashirama, and the rest of the council had met several times to talk about the matter, and so far they’d come up with no answer. 

“There have been a few…suggestions,” Madara said slowly. “We’re to vote on it today.”

A silent conversation passed between the brothers. Their expressions were nearly identical. It made Sakura blink, as if she were seeing double. She was sure they’d had hundreds of conversations like this before, and she wondered if she’d ever know them well enough to understand what they weren’t saying. 

Then, without warning, Izuna scoffed. “He’s going to let this slide? If it had been Tobirama—this is an outrage!”

“Enough, Izuna.” Madara raised his hand and suddenly it wasn’t his brother before him, but his clan leader. “Our Hokage wants what is best for the village and its people. We must have faith in him.”

“That man’s optimism is going to get us all killed.”

“That man’s optimism is why the village exists in the first place.”

“Bah!” Izuna threw up his hands in defeat. “Fine. Let this blow up in your face. See what I care.”

Thanks to experience, Sakura knew that Izuna cared very much. Still, she was glad his ire wasn’t directed at her again. 

“Go take your bath, brother, and cool off your head.” Madara ordered. “A meal will be waiting for you when you’re finished.”

Grumbling, Izuna made his way inside the house. Then, as if struck with a thought, he turned heel and said, “One more thing!”

“No!” Madara said, his voice loud and imperious. “No more things. My nose can’t stand it.”

Izuna rolled his eyes but took a step back. “Fine, fine. But just so you both know, I saw a fortune teller on the way home and she told me how many kids you two will have and I think it’s time to start thinking about names.” He started walking away and over his shoulder shouted, “I expect one to be named after me!”

Sakura laughed, and found Madara staring at her with open affection in his eyes. Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, she asked “What is it?”

Squeezing the hand that he still held, Madara swallowed thickly, then shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

He was close to something, Sakura could tell. Right on the precipice. She couldn’t be the one to push him over the edge, though. He had to make the leap himself. 

“Are you excited for the cherry blossom festival next week?”

Looking more than a little bit relieved at the change of subject, Madara nodded. “The Uchiha have always celebrated the season. I am glad that the whole village will be able to share in the festivities.”

The whole council had organized a large celebration to take place in the village center. Vendors and merchants from clans and civilians alike would set up stalls to sell their foods and wares. Performers had been sought out and contracted, there’d be little pools filled with fish and hundreds of potential prizes from the many games that’d be there. It’d be the first social event hosted by the village and everyone was abuzz with anticipation. 

“What did you used to do to celebrate?” 

“First we’d visit the shrine and pray to the gods. With the start of new life it’s important for us to thank the gods and our ancestors for helping us survive another winter. We also ask for their blessings over new crops. The rest of the day is mostly spent cleaning house, making sure nothing old or broken is leftover, which can lead to grudges and curses from spirits looking for trouble. At sundown we have a bonfire to ward off the final chills of winter. We’ll barbecue and drink well into the night.”

Sakura’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Did this happen last year or did I miss it?” She’d been with the Uchiha for over a year, so what happened? 

“It was a quiet affair last year, what with Izuna and several other clansmen injured after our battle with the Senju.”

Sakura nodded. Thinking back, she vaguely remembered a day where the servants cleaned like they never had before. What a sad way to celebrate such a beautiful season. 

“I’m sorry you couldn’t celebrate last year.”

Madara titled his head, then blinked and offered her a small smile. “Your presence was celebration enough.”

Sakura laughed and gave his arm a light swat. “You charmer.”

“I’ve been accused of worse.” A quiet chuckle escaped his lips. “How do you feel about going on a stroll?” His eyes turned mischievous. “We may get lucky and avoid Izuna’s bout of baby fever.”

The two of them stood and Madara led the way into the gardens. “I doubt it,” Sakura sighed melodramatically. “If I’ve learned anything from you Uchiha, it’s that mules have nothing on your stubbornness.”

Madara tucked Sakura's arm in the crook of his elbow, his smile widening at her comment. “I suppose we must prepare ourselves then.” Cautiously, like he was about to step on a semi frozen lake, he asked, “Have you given any thought to names?”

Tightening her hold on Madara’s arm, Sakura’s smile grew as she pulled him close. The similarities between Madara and Izuna never ceased to amaze her. The way they expressed their emotions and opinions might differ from one another, but their desires and motivations were usually one and the same. A case in point being this topic. 

Humming thoughtfully, Sakura shrugged. “Not really. I mean, I used to think about all that when I was a little girl,” back when she thought the world was a safe and just place, and she’d one day marry Sasuke, “but it’s been a long time. I don’t really have any names in mind.” Raising a brow at her betrothed, she already knew his answer when she asked, “And you?”

A faint dusting of red covered Madara’s cheeks. “I’ve given it a good amount of thought.”

Sakura laughed, bumping her shoulder into his arm affectionately. “And?”

Madara cleared his throat. “Haruya, for a boy. Shizuka, for a girl.” His face turned redder. “I have a few other names in mind, too, if you’d like to hear them, but those are my favorites.”

“Oh Madara,” Sakura sighed, her vision suddenly turning cloudy. “Those are lovely.” Wiping away at her eyes, she laughed. “I can picture them now. Haruya will have my hair and Shizuka will have your scowl.”

Said scowl appeared momentarily on Madara’s face at the comment, but was quickly wiped clean after he properly thought about it. His face softened and a gentle smile hinted at his lips. “I’d like that very much.”

“Well done, Kaito-san,” Sakura praised over the shoulder of her apprentice. “That skin graft is nearly flawless.”

Beaming, Kaito’s spine straightened with pride at the unexpected compliment. “Thank you, Sakura-sama!”

The medics in training had been progressing well. A few of their ranks had been weeded out due to a lack of sufficient chakra control or ability to stomach the sights and smells of a hospital, but those that they had left were showing great promise. They’d been working on skin grafts for the past two weeks and most had a good handle on the technique. Some were borderline proficient. After another two weeks of practice they’d be able to move on to limb reattachment. 

Once she had checked in on everyone, Sakura dismissed them for the day. As she reorganized certain tools and reset the room, she found Tobirama lurking in the corner. It had been some time since Tobirama had sat in on one of her training sessions. He’d been needed to help find candidates with good chakra control and negotiate with clan heads, but his sensor skills hadn’t been needed in some time. 

“Tobirama-san,” Sakura greeted with a nod of her head. “How can I help you?”

“I wanted to see how things were going with all this.” His jaw was tense as he surveyed the room. He took in everything before him, cataloging and organizing the items and their significance in his mind. “And to ask what your timeline looked like.”

Sakura finished putting away the last of the skin tissue samples and frowned in confusion. “Timeline for what, exactly?”

Tobirama’s nostrils flared. “For when your medics will be ready for active duty, of course.”

Frowning further, Sakura found this all very strange. She’d been diligent in her reports to the Hokage’s office, and she was sure Tobirama read through every report with a fine toothed comb like the micromanager that he was, so he should know the answer to his question.

“They are on track to begin working with low risk patients at the hospital in two months.” That would be another test for them all, to see how they handle the pressure of a fast paced environment. Being able to perform medical ninjutsu was great and all, but meant very little if you couldn’t perform with at least three people breathing down your neck. “Depending on how that goes, they’ll work their way up to moderate and then severe cases. Once I’m sure they can handle themselves they’ll alternate between the hospital and the village gate check points.”

“And how long must we wait until then?” The younger Senju growled.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Sakura glared at him. “Six to nine months. You know this.”

Tobirama dragged a hand down his face and bared his teeth in frustration. “It needs to be sooner than that.”

“If I rush my medics through and send them off before they’re ready then their presence won’t make much difference. The only way this works is if they know what they’re doing.”

“They know enough!”

“Tobirama-san, what is this about?” What was going through his head? The man was normally so level headed and thorough, never doing anything without reason and usually not without weighing the pros and cons. “They’re not ready. Why are you trying to push this so hard?”

“You should know why, considering it was your beloved that nearly died. Your lack of care and urgency makes me wonder if you’re truly as in love as I once thought.”

Sakura had to take a deep breath to keep from slapping him. Instead she pulled up the memory of throwing him out a window and played it on repeat. “I’m leaving now.”

She had just finished gathering up her things and was halfway to the door when she heard Tobirama sigh heavily. “No, wait. Please.” He choked on the last word. “I’m—I shouldn’t have said that.”

He fell quiet and Sakura felt her temper flare. “What did you want to say then?” Senju Tobirama was a grown man. A fully fledged adult. He could very well figure out a way to express himself without offending her. 

Lips thin and bloodless, Tobirama squeezed his eyes shut. Tension coiled tightly throughout his body and Sakura worried what might happen when he snapped. 

“What if it had been Hashirama?” He asked, almost too quietly for her to hear. “What if he’d been—” Shaking his head roughly, Tobirama opened his eyes to glare down at his balled up hands. “Hashirama was lucky this time. He won’t always be. Madara was lucky too.” He raised his gaze and ruby red met emerald green. “Next time he might not be. Next time, you might not get to him in time. We need medics we can call on immediately. Without hesitation.”

It felt ironic that Tobirama was now trying to speed up the progress of the medics when only a few months ago he’d scoffed at the very premise. How times have changed. If Sakura were a pettier person, she’d throw that fact in his face and make him beg for her help. As it was, however. Sakura was only petty enough to be tempted by the idea.

“Without more training these current medics can do nothing more than heal small scrapes and aches. They’re still learning how to stabilize traumatic injuries and are months away from performing complex surgeries. The trainees are progressing well, Tobirama. Once they’re ready they’ll be able to make a world of difference, but they have to be ready.” Resting a hand on her cocked hip, Sakura gestured vaguely at the man before her. “If we’re not going to do this the right way then why are we doing it at all?”

Tobirama didn’t respond immediately, but she could see by the hardening of his eyes that her words had gotten through to him. Based on his continued silence, the truth was proving to be a tough pill to swallow. Finally, his jaw shifted—Sakura could practically hear the grinding of his teeth—and he said, “I suppose you’re right.”

Oh, he supposed , did he? Sakura didn’t roll her eyes but it was a near thing. “Of course I’m right.” She was the expert, after all.

“I just—” Tobirama pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t like feeling caught off guard.”

Sakura felt herself softening some. It had been horrible to see Madara bloodied and lying still. Although Hashirama hadn’t been injured, he had been the intended target. Knowing that assassins were being sent after his brother couldn’t be sitting well with him. Especially now that Hashirama decreed there’d be no retribution from Konoha. 

She wished there was something she could say to make it better, but anything she said would be hollow. So instead she changed the subject. “Tell me about the Academy. Anything new on that front?”

Tobirama’s eyes flashed up to hers and then away, like he couldn’t bear to look at her just then. The tension from his shoulders and jaw did loosen though, so she assumed he appreciated the new topic even if he’d never say so. 

“Plans for the Academy are going well. Most clans agree that it’s a good idea, though there are still some holdouts. The Sarutobis are the most vocal.”

Sakura hummed, thinking about the Sarutobis she knew from her time. Hiruzen, the future Sandaime, had Tobirama for a sensei. If they were holding out now, she wondered what would make them change their minds later on. 

“Give them time,” she assured. “They’ll come around when they realize how beneficial the idea is.” 

Tobirama grunted and accompanied Sakura on her way out of the building. “Time will tell, I suppose.” 

Sakura expected the two of them to continue the journey out to the street in silence, but Tobirama surprised her by asking, “Will you be attending the festival?”

“Oh, yes! Madara and I are very excited about it.” She smiled brightly as she thought about just how excited her betrothed was. He’d ordered a matching set of clothes for them to wear. His face when he’d presented her with the new dress had been nothing short of adorable. “I hope someone sells anmitsu.”

Tobirama made a face, a petulant scowl that reminded Sakura greatly of Naruto whenever she or Kakashi forced him to eat somewhere other than Ichiraku’s. “That’s much too sweet,” Tobirama groused. 

This time, Sakura’s eyes did roll as she huffed out a laugh. “Let me guess, you’re more of a savory person.”

“I’m fine with almost anything so long as it’s spicy.”

Sakura closed an eye and stuck out her tongue. “Spicy food is the worst.” Throwing a teasing grin his way, she added, “Of course you like it.”

Lips quirking into the barest of smiles, Tobirama told her, “I must have a superior palette.”

They continued exchanging verbal barbs until they went their separate ways. Tobirama had some meeting to attend and Sakura was due back at the Uchiha compound to make a few house calls. On her way home, she walked past the construction site that would soon be the hospital. 

The bones of the building were finished, thanks to Hashirama’s Wood Release, but it’d still take some time to properly equip with beds and supplies. Perhaps the recent attack would provide her with enough leverage to speed up the process. Though, even the most state of the art hospital was useless without medics to manage it. Sighing, Sakura reminded herself that good things came to those who waited. 

Crossing her fingers, she hoped the world would be patient. 

It was the day of the cherry blossom festival and the weather was perfect. The frost had long since disappeared and the chilly winds had died down, but the days weren’t yet so hot that people sweated through their clothes by noon. The day promised to be a good one, filled with good food, better company, and fireworks to end the night. 

The festival was the first major event held by the village and everyone was likely to be in attendance. Sakura couldn’t wait to revel in the pleasure of a good spring festival. The last time she’d gone to one felt like a lifetime ago. It’d be good to hear the shrieking laughter of children again, to see couples walking hand in hand down rows of merchants. She hoped it’d help with Konoha’s inter-clan relationships as well, as some clans were still overly secretive and withdrawn. Some even made the Uchihas look social by comparison.

A knock came at her door. “Sakura?” Madara asked from behind the paper wall. “Are you almost ready?”

“Yes, almost!” 

Miyoko held up her haori so Sakura could slide her arms into the sleeves. “You look beautiful, Sakura-sama.”

“Thank you, Miyoko.” It was the haori that truly deserved the compliment. The yukata beneath was very plain, light pink in coloring with no prints of any kind. It was cinched together at her waist by a similarly plain, dark fuchsia sash. All of those elements were kept simple to better highlight the beauty of the haori. The dark fuschia robe was decorated with dozens of blooming cherry blossoms, scattering down from her arms and shoulders towards the bottom of the fabric. The lapels were embroidered with gold thread, the Uchiha fan a small, delicate detail that weaved in and out. 

“Will you be attending the festival, Miyoko?” 

Miyoko smiled and nodded cheerfully. “Yes, once I’m finished here I plan to help Uncle get ready. We’ll meet up with Hachirou-san and his family at some point too.”

“Oh how lovely!” Miyoko and Uchiha Hachirou had been getting along very well these past few months, exchanging courting gifts and letters of poetry, and Sakura felt that it was only a matter of time before he proposed. Poking her friend's ribs with her elbow, Sakura wondered aloud, “Perhaps the beauty of the night will urge him to pop the question, hmm?”

“Sakura-sama!” Miyoko protested with a tomato-red face. Then, with a suppressed grin and eyes that shifted away, she said, “The thought might have crossed my mind.”

Sakura squealed and clapped her hands together in excitement. “What are you wearing?”

Miyoko hummed, pressing a finger to her lips in thought. “I haven’t decided yet. Hachirou-san has seen all my kimonos, even the one I usually reserve for weddings and special occasions. I had wanted to order a new dress from the tailor but never found the time.” 

Sakura frowned. It was definitely too late to try and bribe the dressmaker into making something new last minute, and no one would be selling anything in the market today since everyone was focused on the festival. There was a third option. Sakura knew it was a long shot, but still, she offered it anyway. “What about one of my dresses?”

Miyoko blinked, her dark eyes staring at Sakura incomprehensibly. “What?”

Nodding vigorously, Sakura said, “You can borrow one of my dresses! If you want, that is. Take a look through them and if you see one that you like, please wear it.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t.”

“Of course you could!” There were plenty of kimonos and yukatas to choose from thanks to Madara and his spending spree from earlier in the year. There were some she hadn’t even had a chance to wear yet. “Think of it as a thank you, for all you’ve done for me.”

“Sakura-sama,” Miyoko said quite sheepishly, ducking her head. “You don’t have to thank me for doing my job.”

“I’m not.thank you for doing your job.” Taking Miyoko’s hands in her own, Sakura made sure the other woman looked at her before telling her, “I’m thanking you for being my friend.”

Although her face was no longer bright red from her earlier embarrassment, there was still a dusting of pink over her cheeks that flared up as Sakura spoke. Smiling softly, she said, “Thank you, Sakura-sama.”

The two women said their temporary goodbyes and promised to meet up later in the evening. Sakura hoped Miyoko would actually take her up on her offer. If Hachirou did end up proposing tonight then Miyoko deserved to look like a princess when it happened. 

“Finally!” Izuna threw his arms up and then placed his hands on his hips, tapping his foot like some mothering hen. “What took you so long?”

“Hush, Izuna,” Madara sighed, walking over to Sakura’s side. “Perfection can’t be rushed.” He kissed her cheek. 

Face feeling hot, Sakura leaned into him and muttered, “Uchiha Madara, you flirt.”

“You’re in matching clothes, too?” Izuna gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Why am I not surprised?”

Sakura looked over and admired Madara’s haori. Like her, the yukata beneath was plain and ordinary, though his was gray instead of pink, with a black sash at his waist. His haori was black and navy, with the barest imprints of the Uchiha fans decorating it. The same gold thread designs ran down his lapels and across his sleeves. 

Wrapping her arms around Madara’s waist, she stuck her tongue out at Izuna and told him, “You’re just jealous you don’t have anyone to match with.”

Izuna stuck his tongue out at her in return, but before he could properly respond, Madara chuckled and placed her arm around Sakura’s shoulders. “Alright, enough squabbling you two. If we take too much time getting to the shrine for our prayers then we’ll be late for the opening ceremony with the council.”

“Oh no,” Izuna said with zero inflection in his voice. “Anything but that.”

The opening ceremony for the festival consisted of a speech from Hashirama and a performance from a troupe of traveling dancers. Hashirama spoke about unity and the beauty of spring bringing everyone together, and the dancer’s dresses swirled elegantly as they spun around and around each other. It was all very beautiful and inspiring; everything the council hoped it would be.  

“Sakura!” Mito greeted, immediately heading for the pink haired woman once the formalities ended. “What a beautiful haori you’re wearing! What did you think of the performance? Weren’t the dancers splendid?”

Mito’s excitement for the day was obvious. There was a buzz of adrenaline around her as she stood before Sakura in a beautiful green and peach kimono. Her hair was up in its classic two bun style, but the crown and paper tags were absent today. 

“Thank you, Mito,” Sakura gave the red haired woman a small bow. “You look wonderful as well.”

“The splendor of the dancers have nothing on you my dear,” Hashirama praised with a bright smile on his face. Mito blushed prettily and linked her arm through his. “Why, I hardly noticed the performance. Your beauty eclipsed them entirely.”

“And you call me a charmer,” Madara whispered into Sakura’s ear. She had to take a deep breath and bite down on her lip to keep from laughing. 

“What was that, Madara?” Hashirama asked, his attention now fully on the Uchiha clan head.

“I was just saying how idyllic a day it is for the festival.” Madara lied easily, his face betraying nothing.

Hashirama nodded and said with uncharacteristic seriousness, “It is indeed! It is a good omen. The gods must be smiling upon us.”

A pair of councilmen, the clan heads of Yamanaka and Aburame, approached for a word with Hashirama and Madara. The men stepped away to have what looked like a tense and stilted conversation.

“I wonder what that’s about.”

Mito snorted. Standing at her full height with her hands hidden in the sleeves of her kimono, she looked every inch the powerhouse woman that Sakura always heard her to be. “There are some on the council who are unhappy with how Hashirama is handling the assassination attempt.”

“Oh?” 

“Waterfall isn’t much older than Konoha, in terms of its foundation.” Mito said as she kept her dark eyes trained on her betrothed. “Hashirama is sympathetic to that fact and wishes to build a bridge between the two villages.” She pursed her lips, considering her next choice of words carefully. “My clan has had a handful of run-ins with them. Not many, of course, but enough to take notice. Hashirama is a good man. A kind man. I fear though that he is too forgiving.”

Sakura considered the other woman’s words. The Senju Hashirama she’d learned about as a child was a god amongst men. No one was allowed to even hold a candle next to him in terms of strength and skill and goodness. But on the other hand, how many times had the Uchiha Madara of her nightmares attacked Konoha and been allowed to retreat and recover? How many lives were lost because one man was allowed to continuously attack? Hashirama had let his empathy and bleeding heart rule his decisions then, leading to disastrous consequences. Would a similar fate await them on this journey with Waterfall as well? 

“If that is the case then our esteemed Hokage is lucky to have such a shrewd and pragmatic partner at his side.”

“Thank you,” Mito said, smiling down at Sakura. “I can only hope it will be enough.”

“What will be enough?” Madara asked as he and Hashirama returned to their sides. 

Mito’s eyes widened like those of a deer caught by wolves. Thankfully, Sakura had a bit more practice when it came to deception. “Do you think that there’ll be enough fireworks? Mito and I were worried since we haven’t seen any.”

“Rest assured,” Hashirama said while holding a thumbs up, “I made sure that we ordered more than enough. I’m determined to have this night end with a bang!” He clapped his hands together and laughed jovially.

“Yes, our esteemed Shodaime spent a small fortune on tonight,” Madara added with the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. 

“If you’ve got it, use it, I say.”

Madara hummed noncommittally. “The fireworks are set to go off above the Hokage Rock once the sun sets.”

“Yes.” Hashirama’s grin turned into a grimace. His brow twitched with discomfort as he said, “That’s what the council decided.”

Madara snorted and turned to look away. Mito brought her sleeve up to cover her mouth as a giggle threatened to escape. Sakura looked from Hashirama to the carved out likeness of him on Hokage Rock. Madara had told Sakura of Hashirama’s idea to have the visage of all future Hokage etched into the stone, to symbolically watch over the village even after they were gone. Hashirama would be successful. Generations of children would look up at the faces with pride and admiration, much like Sakura had as a child. 

“I look so,” Hashirama started, his eyes trained on his own face, “solemn.”

“Well, I think you look dignified!” Mito consoled with a gentle firmness. “As a proper leader should.”

Sakura thought back to the many, many times that Naruto had vandalized the faces. If Hashirama knew what was in store for his dour image, she was sure he’d be quite delighted. In the meantime, though, Sakura tried to comfort him in another way. “It’ll grow on you, I’m sure.”

Hashirama grumbled, but was appeased easily enough when Mito took his hand and led him into the festivities. Madara and Sakura followed close behind, happy enough to follow the red head’s lead. As Hokage and a member of the council, Hashirama and Madara made sure to stop at every stall and speak with every vendor or merchant. It was slow work, making idle chit chat with so many people, but gratifying as well to see how everyone greeted Madara respectfully and warmly. 

As the sun began to set, Sakura and Madara took their leave of Hashirama and Mito, wanting some time to themselves. The other couple put up no fuss, happily walking off together hand in hand. Leading Madara to a dango stand, Sakura bought a stick for them to share. Taking one dumpling for herself, she held the stick out for Madara to take the second. 

“They seem to be getting along well.”

Raising a brow, Madara held Sakura’s wrist to keep the stick steady as he pulled his piece of dango off with his teeth. “Was there reason to be worried?” He asked once he finished chewing.

Sakura noticed a bit of leftover glaze on his lower lip. “Well, they didn’t know each other for long before becoming engaged. For all anyone knew, they’d have made a terrible match.” She reached up to wipe away the syrupy substance with her thumb. 

Madara’s tongue sneaked out to draw the digit into his mouth, his teeth giving it a nibble. A spark of lightning shot down her spine, causing her to ache with want and desire.  

“Matches have been made based on less.” He turned her wrist so he could kiss the inside of it. “We’d only spent a few months together before our engagement. Were you worried about us?”

Sakura scoffed out a laugh, hoping it didn’t sound as shaky and breathless as she feared it did. “Hardly.” Her heart beat thunderously in her chest and she was sure he could feel it against her pulse. There was a curious gleam in his eyes, one that told Sakura he was toying with her. She needed to turn the tables on him and was pleased when a teasing thought came to mind. “I was the one who propositioned you, after all.”

Sakura took a moment to finish the last of the dango. As she savored the flavor and sweetness of the dessert she thought back to those early days serving that rich lord. She’d been so nervous around him at first, so scared at being found out. Sakura never would have guessed that punching some unknown assassin fifty feet into a koi pond would have led her to such a life. 

“In a way,” she mused, “we should feel indebted to that rival lord or whoever it was that wanted that sweet baby dead.” At Madara’s confused frown, she added, “Without his assassins, you never would have seen me as anything more than some dismissible, civilian woman.”

“I may have seen you as a civilian, Sakura, but you were never dismissible in my mind.”

A faint blush spread across her cheeks. It was hard to tease when he was so sincere. Taking his hand in hers, she said, “I don’t know why the fates brought us together the way they did, but I will be forever grateful to them for doing so.” She reached up to press a light kiss to his lips. “I love you, Madara.”

Falling back down onto her heels, Sakura saw, more than ever, the internal struggle going on within Madara’s head. He still couldn’t say the words back to her. Wanting to tell him it was alright without making him feel embarrassed or ashamed, she tugged on his hand and happily led them deeper into the festival. “Come on!” She said, smiling broadly at him over her shoulder. “I saw some kamen for sale earlier that I wanted to try on.”

It took some time, the pair tried on several painted masks and went through three paper scoops at a kingyo-sukui stall, but eventually the look of consternation bled from Madara’s face. “I should be better at this,” he muttered under his breath, his brows scrunched together in concentration.

Sakura laughed. “The mighty Uchiha Madara, defeated by a little goldfish.”

Madara huffed out a laugh. “Let’s see if you do any better, then.” He handed her the paper scoop.

Plucking it from his grasp, Sakura gloated, “Watch and learn.”

Ever so gently, Sakura dipped her scoop into the water and waited for just the right moment when a tiny, little goldfish swam perfectly above her trap. With the precision of a well trained medic, Sakura raised the scoop and proudly presented her captured goldfish to Madara. Just as she was about to laugh at the pout upon his face, an unattended toddler came barrelling around the corner and, squealing at the top of his lungs, ran straight into the pool. With an oof from the child and a splash from the water, Sakura soon found herself drenched.

Screeching, Sakura jumped away, but the damage was done. The attendant of the stall and the mother of the young boy who’d finally caught up to her son apologized profusely, but she wasn’t paying attention to either of them. Her focus was entirely on Madara, who’d fallen over laughing. His head was tilted back, exposing his neck and showing the world the open and vulnerable expression on his face as he guffawed at Sakura’s misfortune. 

Sakura was in awe. She had never seen Madara like this. It was so new and amazing. And more than a little exciting. 

“Excuse us,” Sakura said quickly, waving off everyone’s apologies so she could grab Madara’s arm and drag him away from the prying lights of the festival.

“Sakura?” His brows were furrowed. Concern bled into his tone as he asked, “Are you alright?”

Pushing him back against a tree, Sakura whispered into his ear, “I love your laugh.” Then bit down on his earlobe, making him gasp. 

“Sakura.” His hands came to rest on her waist, gripping her tightly through her clothes, hard enough to bruise. 

Kissing and nibbling her way down his jaw, Sakura dragged her hands up his chest until she wrapped them around his neck. Playing with the short hairs at the base of his neck, she said, “I want you.” 

Tugging on his neck, Sakura pulled him down for a kiss. Whimpering at the contact, Sakura arched into him, pushing him further against the bark of the tree. Her tongue swept out against his lips, and his mouth opened to hers easily. One of Madara’s hands drifted down, lifting her leg to wrap it around his waist. 

Sakura’s blood felt like fire. All she wanted was to be closer to him, to feel his skin beneath her fingertips. She couldn’t wait for their wedding, she needed him now . 

Pulling back to kiss her way down that beautiful, beautiful neck of his, Sakura bit down against the throbbing of his heartbeat and whispered, “More.”

Madara’s hand left her waist to twist into her hair, pulling her head back enough for him to slant his lips back over hers in a searing kiss. His other hand pulled at her sash, loosening it just enough for her yukata to slip down on her shoulders. 

“That man said he saw Madara and Sakura come this way, but there’s nothing over here.” They both heard Hashirama’s voice and froze. “That’s strange.”

Pulling apart, the couple stared at each other with wide eyes. They had two options. They could remain quiet and hope Hashirama gave up his search so they could resume their activities, or they could pretend like nothing was amiss and venture out.

“Perhaps the man was mistaken,” Mito offered, sounding further away than her betrothed, but still much too close for comfort. 

Knowing that the chances of Hashirama giving up were slim, Sakura sighed softly and stepped away. Admiring her work for half a second, Sakura raised her hands to heal Madara’s kiss swollen lips and bruised neck. 

“I’ll go distract him.”

Sakura nodded, pulling her clothes back into place. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

Madara placed a quick peck to her brow and walked back towards the lights. “Hashirama,” he greeted. “Did you need me?”

“There you are!” Sakura heard the Hokage exclaim as she retied her sash. “What were you doing all the way out here?”

Sakura combed her fingers through her hair. While Madara was known for his dark and messy locks, Sakura would definitely get questionable looks thrown her way if she stepped out with a crow’s nest atop her head.

“Sakura had some water splashed on her. We came out here to try and dry her dress.”

Last thing to do was heal the swelling of her own lips. Hoping for the best, Sakura pulled her haori  tight around her body as she stepped out of the shadows. “We did our best, anyway.” She said instead of a greeting.

“Oh, Sakura, how awful!” Mito came closer to survey the damage. “Luckily it was just water. It’d be dreadful if your haori was ruined.” She pulled the garment open, her dark eyes narrowed in calculation. “Looks like it was just the yukata that was hit. I’ll have one of my maids bring you a spare.”

“Thank you, Mito, but that’s not necessary. It’ll dry soon enough.” 

“Soon enough isn’t soon enough,” Mito said with an imperious upturn of her nose. “That water was filthy. You can’t just walk around in soiled clothes! Just wait here. I’ll tell my maid to bring a replacement and then we’ll be able to watch the fireworks unencumbered.”

Sighing in defeat, Sakura nodded. “Very well. Thank you, Mito.”

Mito smiled and then dashed back towards the stalls where her elderly maid stood watch. 

Sakura looked around, wondering where they should stand for optimal viewing of the fireworks. If only they had thought to bring a blanket, they could find a lovely patch of grass to sit on as they watched. Perhaps Mito’s maid could bring a blanket as well. 

Looking over to Madara, she saw that Hashirama had him in conversation. Sakura held back to give the two friends some one-on-one time. Being the busy men they both were, Sakura couldn’t be sure when they’d last had a conversation that hadn’t revolved around work. At the moment, the two of them looked completely relaxed. Hashirama wore a bright, wide smile on his face, and Madara’s face had softened in the way it did when he was with her or his brother. She didn’t want to interrupt that just yet. 

Tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, Sakura stepped further back, trying to find the best location for the fireworks again. She looked up at the large rock with Hashirama’s face on it and wondered whose face was next to be carved upon the stone. In her time, Tobirama would be the next to wear the hat, but just because it had happened in her time didn’t mean it would happen in this one. Her heart thundered in her chest as she thought about what historical changes she might experience. She could only hope the changes would be positive ones.

A shrill scream rang somewhere on the other side of the crowds, followed soon by another. Sakura looked up, expecting to see fireworks illuminating the dark sky. 

“Sakura!” Madara called out with a desperation in his voice that struck panic into her heart. 

Her eyes flashed to him only to find him without Hashirama. His face was pale and his eyes were wide, filled with untamed fear. So quickly, before she could even open her mouth to ask what was wrong, who was hurt, she felt the burning bite of a kunai slice across her neck. Blood poured down her neck and chest in waves and bubbled from her mouth. The pain and confusion registered in her mind only for a moment, before everything turned black. 

“Sakura!”

When Sakura awoke, it was to chaos and carnage. The shredded skin of her neck was set afire as the skin knitted itself back together, leaving her throat to feel as if she’d swallowed molten lava. Her head ached and her thoughts were fuzzy. She couldn’t recall exactly what had happened, but context clues were more than enough for her at the moment. 

A billowing cloud of smoke permeated the air. Sakura’s eyes teared up and her lungs filled with the toxic fumes. Raising a glowing green hand to her throat, she cleared her airways and took in the sight around her. Fire burned brightly against the darkness of the night, the clanging sounds of metal hitting metal echoed all around her, bodies of both Konoha citizens and enemy ninja laid on the ground. The hitae-ates marked them as shinobi of Waterfall. It seemed they’d returned to finish what they’d started. 

Rising to her feet, Sakura felt the exhilarating rush of adrenaline rolling through her veins as she did anytime she activated her Byakugou Seal. Power hummed beneath her skin. Looking around, she weighed her options. If she were in her time, she would’ve summoned Katsuyu to heal multiple victims at once, but technically she hadn’t made a contract with the slug yet. Once this nightmare was over she would put that on the top of her to-do list. 

Flitting from body to body, Sakura stabilized those that she could, moved the unconscious but uninjured to safety, and killed off any still breathing enemy-nin that she came across. She was covered in sweat and grime but could feel none of the exhaustion or pain that might have come without her seal. She’d feel it later, she knew. She’d probably sleep for a week once this was over. But for now, she continued on. 

An inhuman screech echoed through the air. It sounded sad, almost mournful, like a lost wolf in the woods howling for its pack. Before she could even think to dissect what that sound might mean, a pair of hands were on her shoulders, gripping tightly. 

“Sakura!” Izuna stared at her with disbelief. His dark eyes looked her over, taking every inch of her in from head to toe. When he was satisfied, he pulled her into a hug and said, “We thought you were dead.”

Sakura pulled back and ran a hand over her throat. Grimacing, she shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“We were told your throat was cut.” Tobirama told her, appearing beside Izuna. His red eyes were trained on her forehead. “How are you alive?”

It was obvious that what they’d been told was true. The front of her kimono was stained with her own dried blood, afterall. Pointing to her forehead and the black lines covering her body, she explained, “My seal–it was released after I was attacked and healed me.”

Tobirama tilted his head which made him look much like a cat. “So you’re immortal.” 

There was something almost sinister in that sentence. Something Sakura didn’t like but didn’t have time to discuss. “No,” she told him simply. “Just very hard to kill.”

“Thank the gods,” Izuna said breathlessly. “We need to get you to Madara. Now.”

“What?” Sakura’s heart stopped. “Is he hurt?”

Tobirama scoffed.

“Sakura.” Izuna’s hands were on her shoulders again. His eyes were wide with fear. “Madara saw your throat cut. He thinks you're dead.” 

“He’s gone berserk,” Tobirama added. Izuna shot him a glare over his shoulder, but the white haired man paid him no attention. “He’s demolished the enemy and is heading towards the border. We don’t know where–”

“Of course we know where!”

“But it’s safe to assume he’s heading for Waterfall.” Tobirama finished, his lips thin and tight with apprehension. “There’s a thousand miles between here and there. There’s no telling how much damage he’ll do to innocent people, to the land around us.” He raised a hand and gestured towards the burnt and demolished buildings. “If he continues, this will look like paradise.”

Looking at Izuna, Sakura shook her head, “Why hasn’t anyone stopped him?”

Izuna looked at her helplessly. “We can’t.”

“No one can get close to him because of that damned–what did you call it again?”

“Susanoo.”

“Susanoo,” Sakura repeated, her voice no more than a whisper. A shiver ran through her spine and her blood turned cold as she remembered the absolute terror and destruction the chakra based weapon wrecked upon her home. She looked off to the distance where she could see a bright, electric blue light glowing in the dark. 

Mouth dry, she turned back to Izuna, unsure of what to do. Every cell in her body told her to run as far away as possible. It might have been cowardly of her, but she found herself asking, “What about the injured?”

“Your medics and the veteran healers are seeing to them,” Tobirama said. “It’s not them you have to worry about.”

Sakura stared helplessly at the giant blue Susanoo. What did they expect her to do? Five Kages had gone head to head with that thing and lost. Tsunade had barely been able to crack its ribs. 

“What about Hashirama? Surely he’d be better at facing Madara right now.”

Tobirama grimaced. “He’s been trying, but he can’t get through. All he can do is slow him down.”

She looked back at Izuna, feeling hopelessly lost. 

“Maybe,” Izuna paused to swallow thickly, “maybe if he just sees you. Maybe he’ll snap out of it.”

Susanoo let loose another sorrowful wail. It cut straight to Sakura’s soul. Her fear of Susanoo drained from her body in an instant and was replaced with steely determination. Its presence was due to her. Madara had manifested this beast because of her. He was mourning her . 

Only she could stop this. 

With a nod to the men in front of her, Sakura pushed off with all her strength, launching herself high into the air. Leaving cracks in the stone and earth as she went, she closed the distance between herself and Madara quickly. 

It was near the border Konoha would one day share with Sound that Sakura came close enough to see the entirety of Susanoo. Standing as tall as a mountain–three hundred feet tall? Four?–the avatar took the form of a demonic samurai. Two of its hands held onto one katana while its third, winged hand held onto a second. Both were engaged with the wooden fists of Hashirama’s mokuton buddha.  

“Madara!” She called out, but the thunderous sound of stone smashing apart drowned her out. She couldn’t even see him, way up high in Susanoo’s forehead. Desperate to gain his attention, she stomped the ground, sending a fissure to erupt beneath Susanoo’s feet to force it off balance. Madara treated the small earthquake like nothing more than a pebble in his path. Swiftfooted as he was, he adjusted to the newly roughened terrain while still swatting the buddha’s arms away and continuing his journey towards Waterfall. Gritting her teeth, Sakura tried to think of a new strategy.

“Sakura!” Hashirama landed beside her, looking more serious than she’d ever seen him. “You’re–are you alright?” He grabbed her arm, his gaze focused on her bloodied dress.

It was amazing, seeing the God of Shinobi in action. Even with his attention on her, his buddha jutsu never waivered. It was incredible. 

“I’m fine–don’t worry about me. I need to get to Madara.”

Hashirama nodded. “But how? This monster is impenetrable.”

Sakura bit her lip and considered their options. She’d tried knocking Susanoo off kilter and that’d done nothing. Hashirama was fighting it head on with just as poor results. She needed to get Madara’s attention, but how?

“He needs to see me. Hashirama, can you help me get up to Susanoo’s eyeline?” She looked up at the blue monster. If she could get high enough, she could hit Susanoo hard enough to redirect its gaze. 

“Of course.” Hashirama completed a series of hand signs and a vine shot up, taking Sakura with it. 

Sakura pulled her fist back and prayed to whatever god might listen. Even if this hit was nothing more than the equivalent of a slap, all she needed was to get his attention. Just for a little bit.  Instead, where Sakura’s fist should have connected to a firm, unmoving wall of chakra, it and the rest of her body passed right on through as if nothing were there. Thrown off balance, with her momentum pulling her forward, Sakura slammed painfully into Madara’s back. 

Without looking, Madara jerked his elbow back to dislodge his assailant. Ducking beneath the blow, Sakura held onto the torn and burnt fabric of his yukata. Pressing herself against his back, she tried to regain the breath that their collision had stolen. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she pressed her face into the space between his shoulder blades. 

She could feel his heart reverberate against his skin. It was wild and erratic and Sakura wished she could hold it in her hand so that she might soothe it. Instead she did the next best thing. Squeezing at his waist, she called his name, “Madara.”

Madara froze, his muscles locking into place and his gut expanding from his sharp intake of breath. Her voice just barely louder than the sounds of battle around them, Sakura said, “Turn around, Madara. Look at me.”

“I can’t.” He told her, his words choking him. “What if you’re not real? What if I turn around and you’re still dead?”

“I’m here, Madara.” She squeezed him again, her nails threatening to tear through the fabric of his clothes to get at his skin. “I promise.”

Something close to a whimper escaped his lips and with an unparalleled speed, he whirled around to stare at her with kaleidoscope eyes. The Mangekyo Sharingan spun as it worked to examine every fiber of her being, ensuring her safety and veracity. Rivulets of tears mixed with blood ran down his cheeks. 

“Oh, Madara,” she said softly, brushing the tears away as gently as she could. 

Madara’s face, usually so stoic and stern, crumbled into a mixture of misery and relief. Burying his face in her neck, Madara pulled her close. He clawed at her clothes with shaky hands, drawing her in so tightly she wondered if he wanted to fuse them into one singular being. 

“I’m so sorry, Sakura.” His lips brushed against the skin where her neck met her shoulder. His body shuddered as a sob tore its way through his lungs. “I thought you were dead. And I—I wanted—”

“It’s okay, Madara,” she tried to soothe. Running her fingers through his hair, Sakura felt her eyes sting with emotion. “I’m alright. Everything will be okay.”

His grip on her body turned painful. There was a wet heat bleeding through her clothes and onto her skin. Sakura wondered if his Sharingan was still activated. She wondered if his eyes were still bleeding. 

“I wanted to burn this world to the ground.” Madara confessed. With his arms still pinning her to him so tightly she could hardly breathe, Sakura could do little more than tangle her fingers into his hair. “I wanted the world to feel as desolate as me.”

Pulling back, Madara cupped Sakura's face between his hands. Uncertain emerald met adoring crimson. “I love you, Sakura.” Pressing a kiss to her brow and letting his lips linger, he said, “I was a fool and a coward for not telling you before, and I was inconsolable with guilt, thinking you’d been taken from me before I ever mustered up the courage to tell you how important you are to me.”

Again, he kissed her forehead. “I love you.” He kissed one cheek. “I love you.” Then the other. “I love you.” He leaned in for a kiss. It was a wet and sloppy thing. Bloody tears mixed with thick saliva. Once more he pulled away and looked at her with furrowed brows and anguished eyes. “Please understand how much I love you.”

His hands slid down to her neck. Sakura was sure he could feel the erratic thrumming of her pulse. Of all the times and ways she had imagined Madara telling her those three precious words, a scenario like this hadn’t been amongst them. Looking deeply into his pinwheel eyes, Sakura found herself staring straight into the Mangekyo Sharingan without a trace of fear. Tobirama had claimed the Uchiha were a clan of hatred, and if she were to look at the chaos brought on by Susanoo, Sakura could understand why he thought that. But it wasn’t hatred that had pushed Madara into this raging state. It was love. Profound, all consuming love. 

Placing her hands atop of his own, Sakura pressed a kiss to the inside of his palm. “I know, Madara. I know.”

Looking out beyond the protective blue body of Susanoo, Sakura found herself staring down at the familiar landscape of the Valley of the End. The image was too much for her mind to bear at the moment, so she pushed any thoughts or questions away.  “Madara,” Sakura sighed as she leaned into him, her forehead resting against his chest. “Let’s go home.”

Strong arms wrapped around her shoulders, and Sakura could hear, rather than see, Susanoo disperse into nothingness, like the small cracklings of a campfire. Feeling no different than the times she’d floated in water, the two of them soon found their feet back on the ground. 

Tension bled from both their bodies. Adrenaline slowly followed, leaving a warm and jittery feeling in its wake. Sakura's skin felt tight and too hot as the black markings receded back within the Byakugou Seal. Fingers brushed through Sakura’s hair, prompting her to look up into Madara’s now dark, dark eyes. 

Madara brushed his thumb across her seal reverently. “I will forever be grateful for this.”

Sakura hummed and stepped away. “You can show your gratitude by letting me examine your eyes.”

He frowned. “You need to rest. It’ll keep until the morning.”

Inhaling deeply, Sakura readied herself for her rebuttal. Before she could explain to him that his eyes really couldn’t wait someone stepped up beside them and cleared their throat. 

“While I agree that your eyes should be seen to tonight, friend,” Hashirama said, still just as serious as before, “I will first need your help ensuring the safety of the village. Sakura,” he nodded at her politely before continuing, “I will also need your help with the injured.”

Madara’s hand sought hers out, squeezing it much too tightly. She didn’t mind. She was holding onto him too, not yet ready to let go. Duty had come calling though, whether they were ready or not. 

Izuna and Tobirama appeared, both with status reports about those they’d captured or killed. It gave the betrothed pair a brief moment of respite. Knowing it was a waste of breath to tell Madara not to use his Sharingan the rest of the night, Sakura raised her hands to his temple for a bit of quick healing. It wouldn’t undo all the damage, not even half, but it was better than nothing. 

Madara raised a hand to trace where the lines of her seal had been across her face. “Be safe,” he told her, his voice low meant only for her. 

Pulling her hands away, Sakura nodded. “Come back to me in one piece.”

The two pairs of brothers took their leave, and Sakura began rounding up whatever medics and healers she could find. Although the hospital wasn’t entirely complete, it was still the best option they had for a central location to bring the injured. Mito, having survived the surprise attack from Takigakure with only a few scrapes and bruises, joined Sakura and showcased her skills as a leader. Whenever Sakura was too focused on a patient, Mito would step in and delegate duties and instruct the injured on where to go. Several hours later, with the early signs of chakra exhaustion setting in and a throat sore from all the orders she had yelled, Sakura couldn’t be more grateful to the Uzumaki princess for her help. 

On and on Sakura toiled, working to ensure the casualties were as minimal as possible. A handful of shinobi were dead before even making it to the hospital, and there were several more that might not make it through the night, but Sakura ensured all grievously injured passed through her own inspection to give them the best chance of survival possible. It wasn’t until a large, warm hand landed on her shoulder that Sakura realized the sun had risen. 

Looking up, Sakura inhaled sharply. “Madara!” Overall he was fine, but his eyes were a terrible sight. The surrounding skin was puffy and red. Dried blood caked in the corners and crevices. His Sharingan was still activated, and Sakura could only assume it was because he’d be blind without it. 

She raised her hands, fully intending on healing what she could there and then, but he grabbed them before she could make contact with his temples. “Don’t waste your chakra on me.” His mouth was tight as he surveyed her. “You’re nearing exhaustion.”

He was right. Sakura knew he was right. And yet she still tried to persist. “I have enough to dull the pain. Let me.”

Madara shook his head. “My eyes will keep until you’ve rested. Now come.”

“But–” she tried to protest. There was still so much to be done.

“No.” Madara cut her off, then lifted her off her feet and into his arms. “Whatever else is left to do can be done by someone else. You’ve been working all night. It’s time to rest.”

Sakura grumbled under her breath, not at all appreciating the copious amounts of man handling. “And what about you? You’ve been working just as hard.” Considering how much chakra it took to summon and sustain Susanoo, he must have been just as bone-weary as she was. “Are you sure you should be carrying me?”

“Sakura,” Madara sighed, with no small amounts of affection lacing the breath. “Please just let me take care of you.”

It was almost embarrassing, how quickly she turned to mush in his arms. When he asked so nicely though, she just couldn’t say no. 

Humming, Sakura rested her head against his shoulder. “I suppose I’ll allow it. Just this once.” 

Madara chuckled, “Of course, my love.”

The day of her wedding started out like any old, normal day. Miyoko woke her just before sunrise, she had her meal in her room, followed by a bath. She even had time to jot some notes down in her medical journal. But for all its normalcy, today wasn’t an ordinary day. It was her wedding day. 

Once she had finished bathing, three attendants followed Miyoko into Sakura’s room to help her prepare for the day. Two women were in charge of dressing her, the white kimono being so layered and complex it needed the extra help. One woman was in charge of makeup, adding just a hint of blush to her cheeks and rouge to her lips. And Miyoko was tasked with styling her hair. 

Months and months of planning, of fittings and tastings and meetings with Kame, and the day was finally here. 

“Make sure to eat well, Sakura-sama,” Miyoko said as she pushed a plate full of nuts, fruits, and cheeses towards her. “You’ll need your strength for the long day.”

Nervous knots had developed in her stomach, making eating a bit difficult, but Sakura knew her friend was right. Grabbing a handful of nuts, she silently refused to be one of those unfortunate brides that passed out at the altar. 

The village was still on edge after the attack from Waterfall. Hashirama and Madara had ensured the village had extra guards and traps protecting it from intruders. Sakura wasn’t worried, but she did hope that today’s celebrations would help ease the tension that’d settled over Konoha. 

The council was stuck in a deadlock. Hashirama still had hopes for peace, and while not many councilmen would go that far, they weren’t keen on going to war with Takigakure either. Then there were those that wanted retribution. Madara, loudest of all, demanded the complete subjugation of Waterfall. No one could agree, and no one was willing to compromise. Everyone had put their arguments to the side for the sake of the wedding, which Sakura was thankful for, but knew it was nothing more than a brief respite. 

Still, Sakura would take what she was given in this instance, and focus on the here and now. Takigakure and politics could wait. She had a man to wed. 

Once the last strand of hair was tucked away into its complicated design and the flower crown upon her head was confirmed to be straight, the wedding party took off. For the first leg of the journey, Madara and his retinue traveled ahead of Sakura and her ladies in waiting. He and Izuna, along with several other men of honor led the way to the Uchiha shrine. 

The shrine was decorated just as Sakura and Izuna had envisioned. Kame sat in the center of the main room with two altars in front of him, one bearing the name Uchiha, and the other Haruno. Madara sat before the Haruno name and an empty cushion awaited her before the Uchiha one. Taking her place, Sakura resisted the temptation to look over at Madara, even out of the corner of her eye. It was bad luck to see him before Kame’s official blessing, and they were so close now that she wasn’t going to chance it. 

Incense at each altar burned slowly. The sweet and smoky aroma filled the room and settled Sakura’s nervous stomach. They were so close. They had both come so far, overcome so much, and they were so, so close. 

Kame began his spiel about honoring the past in order to bring about the new. He droned on and on, milking his time in the spotlight until Izuna forcefully cleared his throat. 

Clearing his own throat, Kame moved on. “Before our just and righteous gods, you will bow in gratitude.”

They bowed once.

“Before your ancestors, those who have paved the path you walk on now, you will bow in reverence.”

They bowed a second time.

“And before each other, the one you have chosen above all others, you will bow in fealty.”

And with that, the third bow was complete. 

Sakura raised her head and looked at Madara, her eyes welling up prematurely. Blinking rapidly, she tried to subdue the tears. Their day was far from over, and she didn’t want to look like some drowned raccoon before they even made it to the Hokage. 

Catching a teardrop before it could make it to her cheek, Madara looked at her with such warmth and affection it became hard to breathe. “You look beautiful.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she teased, trying and failing to diffuse all the sentimentality she was feeling. Inhaling a shaky breath, she confessed, “I can’t believe this is finally happening.”

Madara nodded. “It’s been a long wait.” His eyes stared deep into hers, conveying a thousand and one messages that he couldn’t say aloud. “It has been worth it though, to be here with you like this.”

“Come on you two,” Izuna stepped in to whisper at them. “You’re not married yet. We still have the second half of the ceremony to finish.”

In an ordinary wedding, they’d remain at the shrine for the rest of the ceremony. But with the founding of Konoha, and Madara’s position within the village, this wedding couldn’t be just ordinary. Now that they’d completed their bows and received their blessing, the wedding party walked through to the heart of the village. Clansmen and people of Konoha walked with them towards the Hokage tower where the Shodaime would bind them together in holy matrimony. 

Standing atop a dais in his formal Hokage robes and hat, Hashirama welcomed them with open arms and a tear stained face. Taking their places on the stage before him, Hashirama began. 

“Welcome beloved citizens of Konoha, to this most auspicious occasion! Uchiha Madara, co-founder of Konohagakure and leader of the mighty Uchiha clan and Haruno Sakura, beloved medic and teacher, have bestowed on me the great honor of officiating their union.”

Hashirama continued his speech with much enthusiasm and gusto. He spoke of the sanctity of marriage, and the trials both she and Madara had overcome to get to this point. It was a beautiful speech. Long winded, perhaps, but Sakura didn’t care. Unlike their time within the shrine, Sakura now had the luxury of looking at Madara. 

There was a smile pulling at Madara’s lips. It was still a subdued thing, but for him it was wider and brighter than she’d ever seen. His eyes shined with emotion and he took a moment to blink away his own tears. When he opened his eyes again, he’d activated his Sharingan. Brilliant red eyes watched and memorized everything about this moment. 

Her vision quickly turned blurry with tears. A wave of love washed over her and she didn’t bother fighting to keep her tears in any longer. Squeezing his hands, Sakura quietly mouthed the words, “I love you.” 

“It is my honor to pronounce you husband and wife. May the will of fire burn brightly within you both.” Hashirama concluded his speech, raising his arms in praise. Then with a wink at Madara and a face splitting grin, the Hokage announced, “You may now kiss the bride!”

Cupping her jaw with both his hands, Madara tilted Sakura’s face up so he could press his lips against hers. It was a gentle kiss, filled with love and tenderness. Before he pulled away though, Madara made sure his tongue caressed her bottom lip. Between that and the smoldering look in his still ruby red eyes, Sakura felt a shiver run down her spine in anticipation for tonight. 

The crowd cheered and clapped in celebration, their cacophony turning deafening. Hand in hand, Madara and Sakura walked down the aisle through the people of Konoha. Well-wishers threw flower petals and grains of rice to show their support and to give their blessings. It was as amazing as it was overwhelming. 

The last bit of formality to deal with was the tea ceremony. Once everyone arrived at the reception hall and found their seats, a priestess placed a tea pot and the necessary items before the new couple. Sakura went first, pouring a cup of tea for Izuna and presenting it to him with a bow of her head. Izuna accepted it gladly, a Cheshire grin across his face. He swallowed the drink in one gulp and said, “I am proud to welcome you into our family.”

It took much convincing from both Izuna, Madara, and even a word from Hashirama himself, but Sakura had won one last battle against Kame. So instead of having no one to pour to, or setting a cup aside for the ghosts of Sakura’s ancestors, Madara poured a cup for Miyoko and Masaru to drink on Sakura’s behalf. 

Preening like a little boy playing emperor, Masaru chuckled gleefully as he took his cup from Madara. “The clan head serving me tea.” He shook his head in astonishment. “Never in my wildest dreams…”

Dinner was served afterwards, followed by anmitsu for dessert, then it was time for Madara and Sakura’s first dance. Taking to the dance floor, Sakura wrapped her arms around Madara’s neck as his hands slid to encompass her waist. As the music began to play, the pair swayed across the dance floor in silence, just basking in each other’s presence. 

Sakura broke the silence first. Lying her head against his chest, she sighed, “Today was wonderful.”

Madara hummed. His fingers trailed up and down along her spine. “Are you happy, Sakura?”

“Deliriously so,” she answered with a nod. “And you?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever known such happiness. I didn’t think it was possible.” His words were said so softly, his lips pressed against her hair. 

Leaning back to look him in the eye, Sakura leaned up to press a brief kiss to his lips. “You’d better get used to the feeling,” she said with a grin. “We’re sure to have many more happy days in store for us.”

Leaning down to kiss her again, he asked against her lips, “Do you promise?”

“Yes,” Sakura laughed. “Always.”

“I have a promise for you, too. I promise to love you for the rest of my days.”

“Oh Madara.” Leaning up to kiss his cheek, she said, “I love you so much.” 

Placing her head back on his chest, they finished the rest of the dance in comfortable silence. A second song started and Izuna soon cut in, immediately filling her in with his review of the day and tidbits of gossip he’d picked up. When the next song started, Hashirama requested a dance, and the one after that brought Masaru onto the dance floor. 

Although it couldn’t have been more than half of an hour since she’d last been in Madara’s arms, Sakura found herself desperate to return to his side. Excusing herself from another potential dance partner, Sakura found her husband watching her peacefully from the shadows. 

Extending his hand out to her, Sakura slid her hand into his larger one, and then fitted herself against him. “You know,” Sakura began ever so quietly so that no one else would overhear, “there is one other promise you made to me.”

“Oh?” Madara asked with a raised brow.

Sakura hummed. “Something about making tonight the best night of my life?”

Eyes flashing red momentarily, Madara gazed at her with a sudden fire that showed no signs of extinguishing now that it was ignited. Placing his hand on the back of her waist and pulling her flush against him, he asked, “Just say the word and I will happily make good on that promise.”

Dragging her fingers up the front of his yukata and toying with the bare skin of his chest, Sakura asked, “Think anyone will notice if we disappear from our own wedding?”

Madara grabbed her hand and brought it up so he could place a kiss on her knuckles. “We’re both talented ninja. The only way anyone will see us is if we want them to.”

Biting down on her lip, Sakura felt a restlessness building inside of her. She didn’t care if it was her own party. She’d waited long enough. “Take me home, husband.”

Pupils dilating, Madara’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. The hand on Sakura’s waist tightened as he nodded. “With pleasure, wife.”

In the moment it took for anyone to blink, they were gone.