There was something about the Uchiha that rubbed her the wrong way. Maybe it was the way they dismissed her and treated her as the coffee girl.
Uchiha Madara held his cup out wordlessly, glare locked with Hashirama’s face. Sakura felt a scowl start to break her careful calm façade. She met Hashirama’s eyes briefly and he gave a miniscule twitch. She wanted to snarl but instead fetched the tea pot and carefully refilled the Uchiha’s cup.
The Uchiha and the Senju had been allies at one point, working together to bring every other group in under one banner. But it hadn’t lasted and the Uchiha had broke off to make their own faction. They were still allies but now they had rules and borders between them. Right now they were arguing about some faction under a pale snake banner. Someone was trying to move onto their turf by sliding in-between their territories and blatantly trying to stir hostilities between the Uchiha and Senju.
It sounded like a problem with a simple solution; team up and show everyone they weren’t to be messed with, nor were they idiots.
But they were sitting here acting just like that; idiots. Posturing and pride and past grievances clogging the air between them. From what Sakura understood Hashirama’s Senju had been at fault for an injury Uchiha Izuna had suffered and Madara was still not happy about it a decade later.
“Let us sleep on it,” Hashirama announced calmly, “We can talk more tomorrow.”
Madara muttered something into his tea, something uncomplimentary and Sakura twitched by the door. The Uchiha’s assistant saw the twitch and narrowed his eyes at her, warning her to make a move. She eyed up Uchiha Obito and let out a hint of a snarl.
Before anything else could go on, Hashirama stood and gathered his bags. Sakura took them from him smoothly and followed him out of the room, her heels making sharp clicks on the floor. They were silent on the ride down the elevator and out into the waiting car.
“Thank you for your patience today,” Hashirama sighed, shoulders slouching as the tension slipped out.
“The Uchiha are assholes,” Sakura said bluntly.
She was usually more controlled and contained in front of Hashirama but today had been a trying day.
“They can be,” he smiled slightly, “How do you feel about dinner?
“I could eat,” she said.
He crinkled his eyes in a smile and rattled an address off to the driver. It was a ten minute drive through the city to reach a tall sparkling building in which they rode an elevator to the top floor. The man at the door didn’t even ask their name before sending a boy off running to clear a table. Sakura was quite sure they ended up kicking a couple out to open up a table for Hashirama.
“You’ve been here before,” Sakura noted.
“Madara and I came here often for celebrations,” he said simply.
Sakura let the host tuck her in and watched as a bottle of wine was delivered with no prompting. She accepted the glass of white wine and sipped it carefully knowing it was probably more money than she spent on food in a month. Hashirama was silent as he sipped his own wine and gazed out across the city. The view was amazing. The food was even better. When her plate was empty Sakura dabbed at the corner of her mouth and tried not to be disappointed it was over.
“Thank you for your patience today,” Hashirama repeated and ordered her a dessert.
“I was tempted to dump that tea on his head,” Sakura admitted a tad guiltily.
“But you didn’t,” Hashirama laughed.
Sakura could see the way the laughter lightened his shoulders. As calm and smiling as he was, Hashirama was stressed.
By the time they left Sakura could see the way the wine and calm night were slowly relaxing the man.
“My brother said you are fierce,” Hashirama told her as the city drove by.
“Temperamental,” Sakura grudgingly corrected.
She knew herself and the temper she worked every day at controlling.
“You must have been a good match for Tobirama then. Outside and inside the bedroom.”
Sakura allowed the faint flush to decorate her cheeks. Hashirama reached across the seats and took her hand, bringing it to his lips to press a kiss to her knuckles.
“Would it be too much if I asked you to come to bed with me?” he hummed.
Sakura froze.
“I understand I put you in a hard position with that offer,” Hashirama continued, “But know that if you decline there will be no consequences.”
His thumbs stroked her skin. She looked up at his handsome face and the way the city light reflected on his dark eyes.
“Yes,” Sakura murmured with no hesitation, “I’ll come to bed with you.”
He pulled her swiftly into a kiss that was firm as well as heated, which only ended as the car pulled up to the hotel. Sakura followed Hashirama up to their floor and wandered past her own door to watch him unlock his. He reached for her hand again and Sakura gave it willingly. He smiled at her, lips brushing against her skin and then pulled her into the room and into his embrace.
Tobirama was fierceness and challenge, every moment a fight with him. With Hashirama it was firm passion, all careful control and heat. Sakura felt like she was being savored instead of consumed
.--.
“Tobirama passed along a gift for you,” Hashirama said as he watched apply her makeup.
“Hmm?” Sakura asked as she carefully applied her eyeliner.
“He wanted me to tell you it was from me,” Hashirama said grinning, “he gets so embarrassed when he shows he cares.”
Sakura thought it unlikely Tobirama cared about anything other than Hashirama but she kept her mouth shut. The box he set on the counter beside her was no bigger than her hands together but pretty looking with deep blue paper. She twisted her tube of mascara shut and double checked her make-up was all good before she looked to the box.
When she pried it open she found silk inside, and sitting on that silk was a pair of brass-knuckles.
She made a noise of interest and pulled them out, looking them over. They were light, made not of metal but carbon fibre though colored gold and eye catching like a fancy ring. When she slid them on, they fit her perfectly. She flexed her fists, looking them over and noted they had rounded rings for more damage.
“This is a thoughtful gift,” Sakura said as she looked them over.
Hashirama watched her silently. Sakura retrieved her purse and dug through it for a small discreet bag she carried with her. She had to remove a few tampons to fit the knuckledusters but they were light and slim enough to be discreet under the pads. It was worth it because men never looked in that pouch anyways.
Hashirama waited until she was done this, and done pulling her heels on before he pulled her into a kiss. He was very careful about her make-up which she appreciated. Usually she wouldn’t wear this much but she was putting it on like armor. Which is why she’d ditched the pantsuit for a skirt and blouse as well. If those bastards were going to treat her like a little girl despite her professionalism, then Sakura was going to shove her femininity down their throats.
“You look fit to eat,” Hashirama murmured into her lips.
“All the better to lure them in, darling,” Sakura said with a sharp smirk, “And then we’ll see who does the eating.”
.--.
Plans and negotiations didn’t seem to go any better on the second day, but Sakura could see the way Hashirama’s shoulders were more relaxed as she calmly poured tea and fetched what ever they wanted without protest. She’d play at being their tea girl for now. She was also quite aware of the eyes that followed her, watching her as she leaned over or reached for things. She knew the heels did killer things for her legs and ass. And she’d wore a push-up bra for this reason as well, shirt unbuttoned a tad too low to be professional.
The only one who didn’t seem to dismiss her as something pretty to look at was Uchiha Obito. His gaze was more of a sharp glare, keeping careful tabs on her. She flashed him her best innocent smile when he stared too long. He merely narrowed his eyes further.
The second day ended like the first, with Hashirama and Sakura dining high and then tumbling into bed.
.--.
On the third day of meetings Sakura dressed to kill again, carefully coiffing her hair to give it a curl. She poured tea again and shot Uchiha Obito soft wide smiles while Hashirama and Madara argued. At least they had finally agreed to fully work together, now they were just deciding the game plan.
“Sakura, would you pass me those Kabuto documents,” Hashirama said nearing the end of the meeting.
“Yes sir,” Sakura said, flipping through the large brief case of papers they had brought.
“Kabuto was working for ROOT whom we eliminated a while ago,” Hashirama explained to the others, “But he escaped and was said to have ties to the Akatsuki syndicate as well as Orochimaru.”
“A spy?” Madara asked with narrowed eyes.
“Yes,” Hashirama nodded, “but he might be useful in finding out where Orochimaru is if we can find him.”
Sakura walked over to hand Hashirama the papers and he took them, but one arm also reached up and twisted around her waist before tugging her onto his knee. She didn’t bat an eye as he perched on her knee, his hand about his waist as he flipped the file open onto the table.
She didn’t bat an eye but the Uchiha sure stared.
“I don’t understand how your feet don’t get tired in those shoes,” Hashirama said idly, “Sit a minute.”
“Yes sir,” she said blandly.
There was silence for a minute as Hashirama tried to find the information he wanted. Slowly he pulled Sakura further down onto his leg until she was almost leaning against him. She stared blandly at the Uchiha who stared back.
“So,” Madara finally said, “You brought a call-girl instead of that Uzumaki hellion.”
“Mito is a nice girl,” Hashirama said, “I don’t know why you always call her a hellion.”
Sakura had heard stories of Uzumaki Mito. Hellion was probably apt.
“Also Sakura is my PA, not a call-girl. Don’t be rude,” Hashirama finally looked up.
Madara snorted, eyeing Sakura like she was dirt beneath his feet. She eyed him blandly, not giving anything away. Sakura stayed where she was as Hashirama shared the information and the beginning of a plan. When Hashirama finally let her stand she calmly brushed her skirt down and started gathering papers up.
“Let’s celebrate then!” Hashirama said, much cheered as a real plan got hammered out.
“We’re not done yet, idiot,” Madara scoffed but also stood as the Senju did.
“We’re close enough, that warrants drinks,” he laughed, "Let’s go to that bar of yours.”
Madara snorted but didn’t disagree. Sakura started to tidy up and soon they were all out the door. She was only slightly surprised when Hashirama immediately joined Madara and Obito in their car. She and Obito glowered at one another a moment, knowing this was far to friendly for only allied syndicates’. But Madara didn’t say anything against it so she slid into the passenger seat while Obito took the driver’s seat.
“Give us some privacy, Obito,” Madara demanded as they started driving.
Obito glowered but raised the partition and focused on the road as Sakura sat next to him, arms crossed. Tobirama had told her to keep her eyes on Hashirama the whole time and not trust him with Madara. But Hashirama and Madara obviously trusted one another and she could no nothing but let them do as they pleased. Her knowledge of their history was all gossip and rumor but she was still sure that Hashirama and Madara had been friends long ago, before becoming the heads of the two largest syndicates in Fire Country.
“I’m watching you, kid,” Obito growled suddenly, breaking her of her thoughts.
“Who, me?” Sakura smiled sweet as spun sugar.
He glowered at her. They drove the rest of the way in silence.
The bar they pulled up in front of looked like it belonged to a motorcycle gang, but a high class one. It was in pristine shape and clean as clean could be, but had been decorated to be a bit on the dark side. There were also all the motorcycles parked in front of it. Sakura followed half a step behind Hashirama as they followed the Uchiha.
“No guns or knives,” Obito declared in the doorway.
“I left mine in the car,” Hashirama admitted easily.
Obito turned a look on her.
“I don’t carry guns or knives,” Sakura smiled, “But you can check me if you want.”
She knew even if he searched it was unlikely he’d find the knuckle-dusters in her tampon bag nor the thin switchblade she had tucked in her bra. He snorted but didn’t search her, and led them into the building. Inside was like the outside. Clean, neat, and yet, not somewhere you’d find businessmen on an evening out. Hashirama stuck out like a sore thumb in his brown suit and dark mahogany jacket, leather gloves and shoes, and pin straight brown hair much lighter in the lighting. Sakura beside him as no better with her pink hair and business skirt , red blouse, and killer heels.
Even Madara and Obito fit in better because their suits were black. The majority of people in the room wore slick dark suits with tattoos peeking out of rolled up sleeves. The Uchiha dark hair was prominent and Sakura knew immediately that this was a Uchiha headquarters.
Her grip on her purse tightened marginally as she realized Hashirama had led them straight into a place that had them surrounded by Uchiha on Uchiha territory. The fucking idiot.
A table was cleared near instantly for them and drinks were set down before they had even fully sat. Hashirama cheered and clinked his glass with Madara’s before downing his first beer. Sakura accepted a small glass of plum liqueur from a woman with lovely dark curls and wide reddish eyes who wore a suit. Sakura’s gaze caught on the edge of a crow demon tattoo peeking out of her collar.
Sakura sipped at her drink only for appearances sake, barely consuming any of it as Hashirama and Madara drank, Hashirama doing most of the talking. But while Hashirama was the main source of noise and smiles, Sakura watched as Madara’s lips stretched into a smile, his shoulders dipping, which happened too quickly for her to blame on the alcohol.
Hmm. Maybe those days of friendship weren’t so far away.
The door slamming open and glass cracking interrupted that though. Before the noise had even finished echoing Sakura had already tackled Hashirama out of his chair and to the ground, pinning him under the table. She was digging through her purse before the man at the front had even finished stepping through the door.
“The Senju send their regards, Uchiha bastards!” the man laughed, a crowd of men at his back-holding baseball bats, pipes, and other weapons in hand.
“The Senju huh?” Madara said slowly as he stood, every one of his clansmen standing poised.
“Yeah, you bastards have been getting too uppity for us,” the man sneered.
“Hmmm. Hashirama, do you know anything about this?”
Hashirama wiggled out of her hold despite her hisses to stay down and stood up, brushing his suit down.
“I’m sure I’d remember sending these boys over if I had,” Hashirama drawled.
They all saw the moment the man at the door realized the ruse was up. He gave a roar and the new crowd surged forward, streaming into the bar and ready to beat the shit out of everyone. Uchiha vaulted tables and the bar to meet the attack, weapons appearing in hand as well. There were no guns present but more than one pulled a knife and Sakura muttered about double standards under her breath. She yanked Hashirama back as Obito did the same to Madara, edging them back towards a more defensible corner. Sakura had abandoned her purse but her knuckle dusters were already curled about her hands.
Hashirama let himself be pushed back but Madara argued loudly with Obito about it.
“Stay low,” Sakura hissed a command at her boss.
He went to say something but the first man with a bat came whirling up. Obito ducked the blow and tried to trip the man up. Sakura didn’t allow either to get another hit in.
Sakura snarled loudly and went low and then high, slamming her fists into the man’s ribs with all her strength. The sound of breaking bones echoed before the screaming. Sakura let the man fall and went after the next man stupid enough to come at them.
She reminded herself to actually thank Tobirama as she broke bones and egos as she tore through the men before her. Her punches had always been stupid strong but now with knuckle dusters she was breaking bones easily, her own fists protected.
“Gun!” someone screamed.
Sakura’s eyes immediately went for Hashirama. He merely blinked. Sakura lunged at him and as the shot echoed she collided with him. She heard him release a sharp curse, something like pain in his voice before they crashed to the floor. Madara hit the ground next to them. Obito shoving him down, eyes searching for the shooter. Sakura rolled off Hashirama and grabbed the nearest table, flipping it for some cover.
Then she was on her boss, ripping his suit open. He cursed her but didn’t struggle, hissing in pain.
“Hashirama,” Madara demanded, voice loud even in the chaos, something like worry in the tone.
“Just a graze,” Hashirama hissed.
“You got fucking shot,” Sakura snarled, “Tobirama is going to cut my head off for this.”
She found the bullet wound and hissed again. It had got him clean through shoulder and she judged by the flow of blood it had luckily missed an artery. She ripped into his silk shirt without hesitation, tearing strips off. Her tampon pouch, abandoned nearby, was ripped into and pads went in the place of gauze despite Hashirama’s startled gaze. She relied on Obito and the other Uchiha as she wrapped the wound, careful not to cut of circulation even as she tried to apply pressure.
Another gun shot echoed out and Sakura leaned further over her boss.
“Don’t move,” she hissed at him, “Uchiha! Hold this!”
Madara gave her a growl but obeyed, moving over to press hold bandages in place as she tied them up. The shoulder was such an annoying place to try and wrap with emergency bandages like silk shirts.
The sound of Obito yelping had Sakura back on her feet just as she finished tying. She reached up in time to catch a bat in her palm. The sound of wood on flesh met her, her knuckle dusters taking some of the shock but not all of it. She didn’t hesitate to kick the man in the balls though, and follow him down with a punch to the head as he fell. The sound of bone crunching meant she might have killed him, but she didn’t check.
Obito was ducking away from an opponent, hand pressed tightly to his arm where blood was seeping between his fingers.
Sakura came down on his opponent with all the fury she’d repressed over the past few days, heels spinning and knuckle-dusters gleaming. He fell in silence and Sakura abruptly realized the rest of the fighting was done. She blinked and looked around.
A few people were dragging their opponents to the back wall, tying people up for now. A few others were checking friends, a few more straightening furniture.
The man at her feet gave a groan so Sakura kicked him in the head until he stopped.
She kept the knuckledusters on and straightened her skirt from where it had ridden up. She turned to find Madara had helped Hashirama into a chair. He was pushing Obito into a another chair even as the tetchy man was hissing at him.
Sakura finally took her brass knuckles off and tucked them in the waistband of her skirt. When Obito tried to stop her she smacked his hands out of her way. She pulled her switchblade from her bra, ignoring his flinch as she released it. She cut away his coat sleeve to peer at the wound, ignoring his hiss of pain.
“You guys have a first aid kit around her?” she asked Madara.
He went to fetch it without a word. Another man came over with some bottles of water and Sakura poured it out all over the wound, washing the blood away. The first aid kit that Madara brought her looked more like a kit a doctor doing home visits would have, or maybe an ambulance. Which meant it was fully stocked.
“Hashirama needs to go to the hospital,” Sakura said, “We need to make sure there was no internal damage and that the bullet really did exit. And you need stitches.”
“No hospital,” Obito grunted, “Just tape it up.”
Sakura snorted, digging through the med kit. She found rubbing alcohol and poured it over his wound with no mercy, ignoring the sound of his teeth grinding together.
“Well look at that, it’s your lucky day,” Sakura said as she pulled a needle and medical grade stitching thread from the kit.
“You’re crazy!” Obito hissed, “I’m not letting you stitch me up!”
“Sakura is a doctor,” Hashirama interrupted.
Multiple eyes turned to her.
“Med student,” Sakura corrected as she pulled on a pair of sterile gloves and opened the packet holding the needle, “Only part way through.”
Obito made no more comments though just watched as she threaded the needle. Sakura didn’t bother to warn him it would hurt and instead focused on the stitches as he clenched his jaw.
Sakura had only practiced stitches on dead pigs and chickens like most students so far, but she’d been told she had a steady hand. Obito held still as well and soon his gash was closed and tied neatly. She disinfected it again to be safe and then covered it with gauze and bandages.
“Do you want to re-wrap his,” Madara asked, eyeing Hashirama’s emergency bandaging.
“No, because he’s going to a real hospital,” Sakura said, snapping her gloves off.
“I’ll take him,” Obito growled standing up and pulling on a coat offered to him by another Uchiha.
“What he means ma’am, is would you mind staying,” the Uchiha who had handed Obito the jacket said, “We have a few more people who can’t, or won't, go to the hospital.”
Sakura narrowed her eyes but Hashirama cut off any words.
“She’d be happy to stay,” he smiled, “Sakura, Obito can watch me for a bit.”
“Tobirama is already going to try to and separate my head from my body when he hears about this, but if he hears I left you alone with Uchiha while vulnerable he’ll make it hurt.”
“Nonsense! I’ll talk with him,” Hashirama said standing carefully.
“…I’m just a student, I can’t guarantee I can help everyone,” Sakura finally said mulishly, “I shouldn’t even be doing this, it could get me kicked out of my program.”
“You’re worried about your school while sitting in a Uchiha bar after a gang attack,” the Uchiha hovering laughed.
“Where did you get this one?” Madara asked, making a gesture at Sakura as Hashirama walked past.
“I picked her up after I made her behead her husband,” Hashirama laughed.
Madara stared after the man as Obito led him out, then turned his gaze slowly to Sakura.
“He made you behead your husband?” he said slowly.
“Had to prove my loyalty,” Sakura shrugged.
“Cold,” the Uchiha beside her laughed., “That means you’re looking for a new one though right? Cause I’d like to put my name forward.”
“Shisui,” Madara growled.
The Uchiha, Shisui, merely grinned.
“What? You saw what she did with those brass knuckles. She took down nearly as many men as Obito, and more permanently too.”
Madara merely glowered at him as another Uchiha was levered into the chair before her sporting a bleeding nose. Sakura sighed and tuned them out, turning to her next patient.
By the time she had finished patching up an array of cuts and stitching a few more wounds shut, on top of diagnosing some concussions, the attackers had been carted off to god knew where. Sakura didn’t ask. She did accept a drink from the pretty Uchiha woman who had given her her first drink so long ago.
“Let’s go,” Madara said, returning to her corner as she downed her drink.
“Here, take this with you. Obito will want it,” Shisui, her personal guard as she worked, said handing her the ripped jacket from earlier, minus the sleeve.
Sakura took it and followed Madara out of the bar to waiting car. He slid into the drivers seat easily so she took the passenger seat. A paper slid out of the jacket as she set it on her lap and when she ducked down to pick it up she realized it was a photograph that had been tucked in a breast pocket. She picked the photo up, intent on shoving it back in the pocket when she caught sight of silver. She opened the folded worn photo and blinked.
“Huh,” she said idly, “Would you look at that.”
Staring back at her was Uchiha Obito grinning widely (an odd expression from what little she knew of him) with an arm thrown over a man’s shoulder. Said man was slouching in a blue suit, hair an odd silvery grey and ruffled, eyes crinkled in a smile over his white surgical mask. Hatake Kakashi looked a few years younger than she knew him to be in the picture.
“What is it?” Madara asked, eyes on the road.
“Nothing,” Sakura said tucking the picture away, “Are we going to the hospital?”
“Obito says he’s already returned Hashirama to your hotel.”
Sakura nodded and the rest of the trip was done in silence. When they finally pulled up to the entrance to the hotel Sakura gathered her purse and Obito’s coat into her arms.
“Wait,” Madara demanded, hand closing around her wrist as she went to open the car door.
She paused, looking down at the long-fingered hand around her wrist, and wondered if she should say something rude.
“The Uchiha owe you,” he said gruffly, “If you need help…”
He held a business card out and she took it very carefully.
“Thank you,” she said slowly.
“And if you are ever looking for work,” he nodded once, “Call me.”
She thanked him again and left the car. She found Obito waiting in front of Hashirama’s door, standing stone faced like a silent guard. He saw her coming and shook to life, moving to meet her.
“Here,” Sakura said holding out his jacket.
He took it, eyeing the now missing sleeve, and tucked it under his arm.
“Senju-sama is resting. The doctor said he is lucky and it was merely a flesh wound. He’s been stitched up and given antibiotics. He was also told minimal movement of the shoulder until the stitches come out.”
“Thank you,” she bowed her head.
“Hmph. Thank you for your help tonight,” he said grudgingly.
He started off down the hall and Sakura waited till he was stepping onto the elevator.
“Say hello to Kakashi for me, next you see him,” she called out.
His surprise was visible as he opened his mouth, taking a step back towards her. But then the elevator doors dinged shut and he was gone. Sakura smirked and slipped into Hashirama’s rooms. She found him propped on his bed his cellphone to his ear.
“Aw!” he said brightening, “Here she is now.”
He held out the phone and Sakura glared at it knowing who was on the other side. She put it to her ear and didn’t get out a word before a growl echoed down the line.
‘You left him alone with Uchiha Obito,’ Tobirama growled.
“I didn’t have much choice after he took us to an Uchiha bar,” Sakura said throwing Hashirama under the bus.
The look her boss gave her was wounded and Tobirama on the other side gave a snarl.
“At least we foiled some bullshit trap and I saved him from getting shot in the head,” Sakura added, “He’s lucky I was there and he just got shot in the shoulder.”
'…he was shot?’
“Oh he didn’t tell you that?” Sakura said sweetly as she looked at Hashirama’s panicked face, “Let me get him back on the phone for you.”
She could hear Tobirama roaring through the phone as she went to the washroom to wash her hands and face and finally kick off her heels.
“Sakura,” Hashirama whined when she emerged, his phone hung up, “How could you betray me like that?”
“I thought you had already told him,” she said guilelessly.
He pouted and she smiled at him, moving over to see the gauze taped to his shoulder more professionally than she had done.
“They said you did a good job,” Hashirama said, “With what you had.”
“Did he ask how you got shot?”
“I paid him enough he didn’t even mention the word shot,” Hashirama chuckled, “Come here.”
“You’re not supposed to move your shoulder,” Sakura said sternly.
“Then you’ll have to be on top,” he smirked.
He used his good arm to pull her into a kiss that Sakura went into willingly. He adrenaline had long since drained, but so had all her tension from the past few days and she languidly leaned in. He watched her with burning eyes as she pulled her blouse off and then unzipped her skirt, stepping out of it.
She kept a hand on his chest, holding him as still as she could as she sunk down onto him. He growled lowly, eyes watching her every move, his free hand on her lower back as she rode him carefully. Since he was careful with his shoulder she rewarded him with slow filthy kisses and the twist of her hips that made him throw his head back and shudder as he came.
Then she let him tangle his fist in her hair as she swallowed him down and made him hard again.
.--.
Sakura stepped into the office and ducked before she was even fully in. Tobirama glowered at her but didn’t try to kick her in the head again.
“Tobirama!” Hashirama said, scandalized, “It’s not polite to try and kick a lady in the face!”
“What lady,” he growled, “I just see a failure.”
“Rude,” Sakura sneered, “After the way I saved his life.”
“You left him alone with Uchiha.”
“And that’s worse than getting shot in the head?”
“Yes,” Tobirama said flatly.
It startled a laugh out of her while Hashirama whined in the background. She could see he didn’t mean it though, nor was he serious when calling her a failure. If he had truly thought she had failed she would not have been given a warning kick; he would have had his gun drawn long before she entered the office.
When Tobirama had reassured himself Hashirama was fine, and Hashirama was sitting properly working on some papers, the white-haired man let himself out. Sakura followed him into the hall.
“Thank you,” she said, “For the brass knuckles.”
“Hashirama got those for you.”
She merely snorted and stepped into his personal space.
“Thank you,” she repeated, “I killed three men with them.”
Tobirama didn’t move but she could see the way his attention sharpened on her.
“Broke two skulls and collapsed a man’s lungs,” she said.
He reached up and slowly brushed a palm against her cheeks, eyes glittering. She leaned up into the kiss first and was not surprised when he bit his way into her mouth.
“Sakura, can you grab me a new file folder!” Hashirama called from the office.
“Dinner,” Tobirama said gruffly as he pulled from the kiss, “Tonight. My house.”
“After, I’ll show you my appreciation for the gift,” Sakura promised with a smirk.
When he stepped back his pupils had dilated and there was a smirk on his lips. Sakura turned and headed back to help with Hashirama feeling Tobirama’s eyes on her until the door shut.
If this was going to be her life now, she was going to enjoy it.