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moorContent Warning: Allusions to A/B/O.
- Part Two - The Battle [first battle]
The Battle:
Sakura arrived back at the Senju compound in time to hear Shizune ordering everyone to start taking their suppressors and blockers immediately and report to her for dispatch. Having already taken hers before she left for the palace, Sakura immediately sought out Tsunade to check in. It only took a few minutes to find her, surrounded by the generals. Already she wore her armour, an assistant securing the ties of her wrist kote as she held out her arm and gave directions to the others. Her eyes caught Sakura’s through the crowds and Sakura ran to her.
“Good, I knew you’d be back soon,” said Tsunade, nodding at Sakura. “You’re going to be serving in this field hospital.”
“But I can fight—” began Sakura, but Tsunade shook her head.
“You probably will later, and that’s when we’ll need you to be ready. You haven’t fielded a real battle before, Sakura. I need you here, where you’re focused and clear-headed.”
Sakura’s face fell. “But—”
“We’re getting reports of the south gate requiring medical support,” interrupted one of the other medics from the tunnels.
“Everyone, you know what to do. Send reports as often as you can to this location; Sakura will coordinate,” bellowed Tsunade. “Shizune will be taking care of the other, smaller field hospitals.”
With that, those with armour hurried out to support the Uchiha soldiers, and Sakura was left to babysit the more junior apprentices and medics.
Fuming but knowing Tsunade had her reasons, Sakura gathered everyone left and sorted out the teams immediately.
“Group A, go lie down, you’re going to be providing relief in six hours; Group B, set up a triage; Group C, inventory and organize our supplies; Group D, rearrange the infirmary and hospital in order to maximize patient capacity and specialization of care. If you have any questions, tell me right away. There is no rank as of this moment, we are all here to support, is that clear?”
“Yes!”
“Then get to it,” said Sakura, pulling aside Group E to explain her plan, should she be called away.
It was not long after that they began receiving the first wounded, and Sakura was initially relieved that Tsunade had held her back. Wounds and injuries she could deal with; but the tales coming back were awful.
“... lost three groups of guards already to illness before this even started,” cursed one soldier as Sakura bound his head. “It’s like they weakened us before they hit.”
Making a sympathetic sound in her throat, Sakura nodded and mentally agreed.
At her elbow, a younger apprentice from Group C tugged at Sakura’s apron.
“Yes?” asked Sakura.
“We found a problem in the storehouse,” said the young man very quietly.
Sakura’s hands slowed, an uneasy feeling in her stomach.
Calling over another medic to finish her patient, Sakura followed the young apprentice to a quiet corner.
“What is it, Tomo?” said Sakura, trying to keep her voice calm. Tomo had only joined the Senju apprenticeship program a few months earlier, and at less than 8 years old, still required a ladder to reach the upper counters and ingredients (though he often just climbed to be faster).
“The herbs aren’t right,” said Tomo. He held out a handful to Sakura in a cloth bag. “These are supposed to be valerian, but instead they’re monkshood. And in another spot, the violets were replaced by nightshade. And then other herbs are half-rotten, like they got wet—”
Sakura’s quick intake of breath startled Tomo and he backed up quickly, pulling his arms into his chest and hiding his head.
“I’m sorry,” he squeaked.
“No, no, Tomo, it’s not you. You didn’t do anything wrong,” soothed Sakura, reaching for him and gently touching his hands. She wasn’t sure who his master had been prior to Tsunade taking him in, but it had been a cruel one. “Can you show me where you found this?”
Nodding, Tomo led Sakura into the stores and showed her more.
Sniffing her way through the stores, Sakura found even more problems. Labels were incorrect, quantities had been misreported on the inventory, the wet ingredients were spilled, the mess leaving a smell that gagged Sakura and Tomo. They left that storeroom and proceeded back to the storeroom’s main sorting area, with long tables on each side. Beneath her long, wide sleeves, Sakura pinched herself over and over, but the reality remained.
What was going on? They regularly checked this area. Only someone from the Senju could even access it…
Holding her chin, Sakura’s gaze became unfocused as her analysis turned inward.
With the blockers in her system, Sakura could only make out the most obvious switches. She needed a clearer sense of smell. She needed an enhanced sense of smell, actually, to get through this quickly.
But that would mean disobeying Tsunade’s orders. Tsunade’s very clear, very important orders. There were very good reasons she needed to maintain the blockers and suppressors—and not risk distracting the other healers around her—during a conflict.
Panic seeped into Sakura’s gut. She was in charge, she, most of all, had to keep a clear head. Being influenced by the battle, and the violent ruts they could produce, would endanger her if she didn’t maintain her suppressors and blockers. But now, they were working against her, and against time, and endangering every patient that came through the door. Above them, Sakura heard another group arrive, a larger group this time.
Sakura clenched her jaw.
“Tomo,” said Sakura gently.
“Yes?”
“Could you go get me some paper and ink, please? And go get your fastest friend.”
“Right away!”
Sakura smiled at him as he hurried off. He was a good boy.
As soon as he was out the door, she checked around her. She was alone. Without pause, she pulled a pair of small phials that hung from a leather thong around her throat. Without pause, she closed her eyes and downed the contents of the first phial before tucking it beneath her robes again. The shaking began, and she almost failed to open the second phial, but she forced chakra to her hands, overpowering her natural reaction to the first drugs. With the help of her chakra, she downed the second phial. The reaction was more horrible than she remembered, from the only other time she’d had to take the combination. At least back then she’d had a reprieve, a break of several hours between taking the concoctions. Now, Sakura pressed her lips together tightly to keep from vomiting as her body went to war with itself.
The burning spread immediately down her throat and Sakura had to clench her fists to keep from scraping at the delicate skin of her neck. Like a wildfire it leapt down to her stomach, across her veins and chakra pathways, purging it of all contaminants. Burning the suppressors and blockers from her system. It was harsh and was normally required to be diluted, but time was of the essence. Sakura could heal her pathways later.
Then the enhancer, the one that would send her into heat, took over. Sakura threw her head back as she felt her senses come alive, every scent, every vision, the feel of every fabric on her skin or wood underhand magnified. It was the only way to quickly identify the disorganized storeroom’s contents while they were in the middle of a battle. Already the sourness in the air filled her lungs, and Sakura gagged again, swaying on her feet to catch her balance.
Of course, the enhanced sensations meant that the pain from the purging phial became torturous.
Swallowing her gasp of pain, Sakura fell against the wall, breathing hard, her eyes warming as she forced herself to breathe normally and flush everything through. She let her sweaty forehead touch against the stone walls to cool her feverish skin.
It would be okay. It would be okay, she repeated to herself as the worst of the trembling abated. She ignored whether it was from pain or fear at that point.
Opening her eyes, Sakura pushed away from the wall and stood as tall as she could. She had a hospital to run and the battle had only just started. There was no room for failure.
When Tomo reappeared a minute later, Sakura pulled him to her side and designated him her official assistant. There was a reason she had chosen one so young to help her. He would not be affected by her heat, thankfully.
“Write as quickly as you can,” she ordered, drawing a line down the page with a chart on it. “Safe” read one heading. “Bad” read the other. “Move” read another column.
Sakura handed it to Tomo and rolled up her sleeves. When Tomo nodded, she began pulling out herbs and wafting their scents towards her face.
“Valerian - bad.” She threw it out and yanked out another herb.
“Monkshood - move.” She passed it to Hana, the other apprentice Tomo had invited. Quick as a whip, Hana returned the monkshood to the correct place on the shelf and returned as Sakura moved on to the next herb.
“Duckweed - bad…”
After about 30 minutes, Sakura noted that most of the changed herbs had only been moved around. Unfortunately, the ones that were tainted and now bad were the most important ones for dealing with injuries, things like analgesics and opioids.
Pain medicine.
“Tomo,” said Sakura, reviewing their results. A worry niggled at the back of her mind. “Could you please go get me a few of the medic kits that go out with our military support personnel?”
With a quick nod Tomo sped out to the kit storeroom, returning with a handful of kits in a flash. All it took was a cursory glance and sniff—ugh, acrid—and Sakura’s heart clenched in her chest as her fears were confirmed. Some of the kits were compromised with the bad medicines.
Which meant that those medics out in the battle didn’t even realize they were compromised.
Anger nearly overwhelmed Sakura at that moment, but she forced herself to stay calm.
“Hana, I need you to go collect the entire Group E, as fast as you can. They need to meet me here, right now. Tomo, you go get all the medic kits and bring them here, too,” said Sakura. “Do not speak to anyone else about this, is that clear?”
“Yes ma’am!”
“Good, hop to it,” said Sakura, sending them off.
With a horrifying understanding solidifying in her brain, Sakura looked around the storeroom. She remembered the soldiers at the castle, then, who had been poisoned. And she thought of her fellow Senju, out in battle at that moment, not even aware that some, perhaps many, of their kits were likely tainted, too.
Picking up the chart that Tomo had filled in for her, Sakura reviewed the results one last time as a new plan formed. When the rest of her assistants arrived, Sakura was ready for them.
The pain medicines were immediately pulled from their shelves and evaluated. The med kits were dismantled and re-packed with fresh, cleared supplies. The rest of the team began checking the rest of the storeroom and supplies for evidence of further tampering, documenting it and fixing it as they came across it. Some areas seemed untouched; particularly the medicines which dealt with illness rather than injury. Every piece of new information made Sakura rage inside at the deliberacy of the sabotage.
“As soon as twenty med kits are ready, we head out,” called Sakura, heading upstairs to review the rest of the teams and stations. “I’ll need ten runners who’ve trained with the military medics!”
It was a quick inspection in the revamped hospital, and luckily each station was running smoothly, in spite of the sudden influxes of patients who arrived.
When she returned downstairs, Sakura was even more relieved. Group E went above and beyond; with their chuck-and-repack system in place, they were ready within 15 minutes, a new record. Marking each one with a red circle, her personal symbol of approval, Sakura would have been ecstatic had it not been for their circumstances. As Sakura spot-checked the packs herself one last time with her enhanced sense of smell, she was satisfied. With a quick review of their procedures and goals, and that safety was their priority, Sakura sent each pair out to swap packs with an active military medic.
It was then that Sakura realized Tsunade and Shizune had no idea that the packs were compromised, either; and they were likely in the thick of the most dangerous action. They prepared and carried their own supplies, which were much more robust than the regular field medics. Could their kits have been compromised, too?
Grabbing two additional kits, Sakura scanned the room; the majority of the Group E assistants were busy assessing and fixing the storeroom. There were several left upstairs to supervise each section of the hospital, too. She couldn’t risk drawing out Group A yet. It was imperative that they remain ready to replace the current medics when they tired. And there was no way she was sending out anyone untrained.
“Tomo,” said Sakura, looking down at the child by her side. “Have you ever helped a medic suit up for battle?”
His dark eyes widening, Tomo shook his head.
Sakura smiled at him. “You’re about to learn. Hana, you too. Come with me.”
***
It was a battle for Sakura to find Shizune and Tsunade in the winding streets of Konoha. With Shizune moving between multiple temporary field hospitals, Sakura worried it would take her a long time to find her. It was very fortunate that one pair of medics had seen her at the west-most camp within the past hour, so Sakura set off there first. Finally, something went right.
Sakura spotted Shizune giving orders to a pair of field medics at the camp and rushed toward her. Her route was waylaid by a brute force from the left suddenly crushing her to the ground, however.
“Smell so good,” mumbled the soldier, trying to nuzzle Sakura’s throat. To Sakura’s disgust, it was one of Konoha’s own soldiers, but not an Uchiha. His uniform indicated he was a guard, and Sakura assumed he was probably there to protect the camp.
“Get off,” growled Sakura, channelling chakra to her left side and shoving him off, sending him flying. With a curse she righted herself and hurried to Shizune. She had let her guard down when she had reached the camp’s borders and learned her lesson.
“Sakura, what are you doing here?” demanded Shizune, splitting her attention between the pair of medics and Sakura. Shizune’s patience was thin, and Sakura read the stress of her taut brow and thin lips easily.
The red circles on the medics’ packs reassured Sakura, and she met Shizune’s questions head on.
“You need to check your medic kits. The storeroom was compromised. All the medical kits we checked so far were tampered with. I brought you a replacement,” said Sakura, shoving a pack at Shizune. “We’re sorting everything out and should be done soon. Painkillers and medicines related to injury treatment were targeted, but things are messy all over.”
“That’s impossi—Sakura,” said Shizune, her eyes narrowing on Sakura further. Her nostrils flared.
“It was the only way to get through it quickly enough to fix it,” said Sakura.
Sakura swallowed but her gaze was fixed on Shizune’s, unrepentant.
“We sent packs out to all the field medics. I’m going to Tsunade,” said Sakura as another group of medics rapidly approached Shizune, likely with questions. “We’re refreshing all the medic packs to be safe. They’re all stamped with a red circle.”
Shizune grabbed Sakura’s wrist tightly when Sakura turned to leave.
“You get back to the hospital immediately after you find Tsunade, do you hear me?” ordered Shizune, her eyes searing Sakura’s. But there was a thread of fear in her voice.
You’re the biggest target out here at the moment, that fear said. Sakura understood. Their own side had attacked her already.
“Good luck,” said Sakura, taking off again. She was quick to sidestep anyone who got too close this time, not letting her guard down at all on the way out.
Watching Sakura leave from behind her, the lines around Shizune’s eyes deepened with concern.
***
“What have you done, you idiot?!” snarled Tsunade as Sakura leapt into the fray beside her.
“Saving your ass—here,” huffed Sakura, punching away one of the masked enemy who tried to get behind her. She tossed the fresh med kit to her mentor. “Storeroom was sabotaged. Painkillers are shit. Check your pack and use this one if anyone’s tainted.”
“Tainted, is that why you deliberately disobeyed my orders?”
Smashing through a wall of enemy soldiers, Sakura flipped back to Tsunade’s side to cover her mentor’s flank.
“All the field medics have been re-equipped with fixed kits, so has Shizune. The storeroom’s nearly back to rights. Can we go over the rest later?” said Sakura, pulling out a dagger to parry another pair of enemy who tried to charge her. “New kits have my circle of approval, by the way. Red. Don’t trust any other kits.”
“And now you’re giving me orders?” snorted Tsunade, raising a wave of earth only to have it collapse on a group of oncoming enemy. The reverberations caused the sidewall of a nearby building to shake and crumble. Off to the side, the Uchiha soldiers fought tooth and nail to gain whatever advantage they could over the overwhelming enemy numbers. The dust in the air made Sakura cough, and her eyes water. Around her she smelled blood, sweat and aggression, testosterone and fear.
“Where are they coming from?” muttered Sakura, remaining at Tsunade’s side as she continued fighting. Normally someone else had Tsunade’s back, but it seemed like the field medics were absent, all transporting wounded to the field camps or hospital.
“The gates,” said Tsunade darkly. Her tone was hard but meaningful as she glanced at Sakura. “Sakura, I need you to get out of here. They’re getting more riled up by you being here.”
“You’re alone! And it was the only way—”
“Go!”
Clenching her teeth hard to keep from arguing, as all she wanted was to please Tsunade, Sakura fell back.
***
The fury flowed through Madara like molten lava at each new report. The enemy had come through Konoha’s own gates, weakened by the soldiers’ illness. Madara and Izuna had disbanded the Royal Guard and ordered them to disperse among the weaker ranks to bolster them, but still the battle was a raw one. Darkness was falling and the citizens had done their best to hide, but entire neighbourhoods of the capital had been destroyed.
Madara had joined the battle hours earlier, and caught up to Izuna as he ordered his men to rest temporarily. Madara himself went to check on his younger brother, forcing him to sit down as he inspected him for injuries.
“You’re heading out again?” asked Izuna, chest still heaving. His swords were beside him, covered in blood. He had not even had time to clean them yet.
Madara nodded, tilting Izuna’s head this way and that as he checked him over. Izuna just sighed.
“If you get treated by a medic, make sure they give you treatment from a bag marked with a red circle,” advised Izuna, leaning forward to catch his breath, his elbows on his knees.
“Why?” asked Madara, pausing in his cataloguing of his brother’s weapons.
“Someone got to the hospital,” said Izuna quietly, checking around him for other soldiers. They couldn’t risk losing the soldiers’ faith in the Senju’s abilities. “Tsunade passed it along through the Underground. One of her top people confirmed it and corrected it as soon as it was noticed, which was very early on, but stay alert. If the enemy got a hold of those tainted medic kits, they could impersonate one of the Senju.”
Madara’s eyes narrowed.
“Hashirama would never—”
Izuna lifted his head. “Sabotage. Just like our gates were.” His eyes flickered to Madara’s. “Like you were.”
Madara’s hold on his gunbai tightened, and Izuna took a moment to observe his brother carefully.
“You can’t make me leave the battle,” said Izuna preemptively.
At Izuna’s declaration, Madara scowled.
While Madara hid his condition well, his brother had known him all his life and recognized the hyperawareness and overprotective instincts that were coursing through him as his rut took over.
“Should you be out here?” challenged Izuna.
“This is my place,” answered Madara. He took a slow breath, holding Izuna’s gaze. “For both our sakes, mind yourself, brother,” added Madara quietly.
From his place on the pile of crates, Izuna smirked.
“You too. First to a hundred wins,” joked Izuna, calling back to their childhood games. He held out his arm to his brother.
Madara’s urge to send Izuna back to the protection of the castle warred with his understanding that Izuna was the best at what he did, beside himself, and he was a good leader. He reached out and clasped Izuna’s forearm, locking them together.
“Keep the Senju in sight,” ordered Madara. “They will protect you and your soldiers.”
“We will protect each other,” said Izuna.
With that they separated, and Madara leapt up to the nearest rooftop to return to the battle once more.
***
Sakura’s journey back to the hospital was repeatedly interrupted. One skirmish after another she was attacked by the enemy. It got worse and worse through her trip, and she kept detouring into areas she’d never been to avoid or escape them. As darkness fell, she began to wonder if seeking shelter for the night as her heat hit its peak might be safer.
Hiding inside an abandoned building to catch her breath, she leaned against the wall and peered out the edge of the broken window.
She flipped out of the way the instant she heard the blade unsheathing.
“Who’s there?” she asked, crouching and lifting her fist, glowing with chakra.
“You’re Senju,” remarked a male voice from the next room. The accent was Konohan, of the noble class, but that could be mimicked.
“Who’s asking?” asked Sakura, re-orienting herself so she faced the tall man. She kept the wall to her back.
With a pained huff, the man stepped from the shadows, and Sakura’s eyebrows lifted.
“Prince Izuna,” breathed Sakura, crossing the room to him.
Leaning against the doorframe to the next room, holding his seeping side, Izuna grunted and appraised her.
“Bogu armour off,” ordered Sakura, lifting his good arm over her shoulder to help him to the cleanest part of the building they had. Luckily the well still smelled clean. As much as her heat was a problem, Sakura was grateful for how handy it had been to her that day. “Where are the rest of your men?”
“Sent back when the reinforcements arrived,” mumbled Izuna. “Got separated.”
Unpacking a few essentials from her kit, Sakura nodded. “The enemy keep dividing us. I noticed it, too. We need to draw them away so we can regroup,” she said, thinking aloud. “I’m going to lift the fabric of your shirt, so you’re going to feel a draft. And then it’s going to suck. Here,” she said, handing him a piece of wood. “Bite.”
“It will be f—mph,” moaned Izuna as Sakura poured disinfectant on his bare wound. He flinched and tensed as she daubed at it gently.
“Good boy, just a few more minutes… Damn, it’s dark…” Sakura lit a small candle to help her see, covering it from releasing any light beyond just the pair of them. “Good, the internal damage is minimal…”
As she focused on Izuna’s injuries, she made sure part of her awareness extended outward. Just because she couldn’t hear the battle quite as close didn’t mean it was as far away as she hoped. She kept her ears alert most of all. She would smell or hear a threat before she saw it. Which was why she noticed the way the prince sniffed her, tensing further, before inching closer to her again, and then relaxing, just a bit.
“Don’t get any ideas,” said Sakura.
“Medics usually take suppressors before they go into battle,” remarked Izuna casually. He lifted a hand to Sakura’s headwrap, but without a thought she sealed off the pain-numbing effects of her chakra. His hand froze as he inhaled softly at her inherent threat. “I apologize for being forward.”
Sakura sighed tiredly.
“At least you’re polite. The soldier from the castle this morning kidnapped me and dragged me away to his room when I came with Tsunade to help deal with the poisoning,” said Sakura, reactivating the numbing power of her chakra. “The battle called him away.”
“This morning… You’re the apprentice,” realized Izuna aloud. “Ah.”
His thoughtful sound gave Sakura pause.
“Something funny?”
“Hopefully you don’t run across that man tonight,” said Izuna distantly. “The rut has hold of him.”
Sakura could have cursed herself. With everything that had happened since that morning, she had completely forgotten about him. She had promised that soldier to return to help him. But that was when she had been proofed from the effects of ruts and heats, with the blockers and suppressors strong in her own system. Now, her approaching him would be like lighting a match over a powder keg.
“This battle has been a mess. Someone got into the hospital stores, too. That’s why I had to purge myself. We had to figure out what medicines were affected,” said Sakura, working as quickly as she could. A part of her wanted to confide in this man, curl up with him, heal him completely, but she bit the inside of her cheek and reined in her instincts.
When Izuna’s arm fell across her back, pulling her closer, Sakura stiffened.
“You’re distressed. You’re under no threat from me,” said Izuna calmly. “And you help prop up my arm so I don’t strain the muscle.”
Sakura looked up at him with a small smile of relief. “Thank you.”
Izuna nodded at Sakura as she continued, finishing soon after. She healed the damage to his internal organs and his skin, and bandaged the area anyway. All the while Izuna’s hand remained on her back, occasionally rubbing it but never veering into impolite.
“If you get swinging too hard, that could still open again. Avoid anything too strenuous for the next hour, until it has set,” advised Sakura.
Izuna lowered his arm, his hand shifting to Sakura’s shoulder. It was close to her gland, but not touching it. Still, his closeness made her breathe deeper, her pupils dilate.
“You’ll be safe to return to the hospital?” he asked.
Pressing her lips together, Sakura nodded and helped him put on his bogu and other pieces of armour he had discarded, mindful of his healing wound.
“Yes. Medics train to be quick on their feet,” assured Sakura with a grin when he withdrew his hand, tightening the strap that connected his bogu over his chest, beneath his shoulder protectors.
When Izuna’s hand closed over hers, holding her palm to his chest, Sakura locked wide eyes with Izuna.
“Be swift,” said Izuna softly. He lifted her fingers to his lips, holding her gaze. “And thank you.”
Her heart tightening just a bit, Sakura nodded.
“You, too,” said Sakura. “Be smart.”
Lifting his helmet from the floor, Izuna let Sakura’s hand go. Checking outside, he nodded at her.
“Go, before anyone comes back this way,” he ordered.
“Be safe, Prince Izuna.”
Lifting his good arm, Izuna jogged away, before picking up into a full run and leaping up to the nearest rooftops. He landed silently, and Sakura admitted she was impressed with how smoothly and neatly he moved. It was as if he hadn’t been injured at all.
***
Hours into the battle, Madara ploughed through half a battalion of enemies in his haste to find Izuna. Izuna had disappeared over an hour before, and Izuna’s own men had gone searching for him when he failed to rendezvous with them. As Izuna was his closest family and only remaining brother, Madara’s rut-framed instincts had been feral with worry over Izuna’s state, even as he continued to thrash the enemy. If only they could get a break in the way the invaders kept splitting up their formations.
It hadn’t helped that through it all, Madara had been terrified that Izuna had been taken by the enemy, for ransom or worse.
“Sire, news from Prince Izuna!” called Yamada, one of Izuna’s generals. “He rejoined several of his men and is on his way here now.”
“It’s about time,” bit off Madara under his breath, relief flooding him. “Send him my way when he arrives. Gather the wounded and prepare them for transport. The next squad of Senju should arrive shortly.”
“Yes, sire!”
With that, Madara joined his generals for another strategy meeting that was already underway.
“—we need something that will draw them away, though.”
“—trap them?”
“—fortunate that we have so much support from the Senju, but could they be used as offensive forces, instead?”
Madara listened carefully to each speaker, considering their options. When he smelled the familiar scent of his brother a few minutes later, his eyes immediately sought him out, inspecting him from across the group. Izuna quickly joined his side, listening to the meeting and apologizing for the delay.
“You’re injured,” said Madara quietly as the meeting continued. His nose twitched and he struggled not to turn his head to his brother. Somehow, the relief of his brother returning was offset by an uncharacteristic jealousy that warmed his blood. He gave his brother a questioning look, his hand resting on his sword. Unconsciously he squeezed the pommel.
“I was, but a Senju healed me,” explained Izuna.
But Madara had already guessed that he’d been with a certain Senju.
Izuna continued. “And she gave me an idea...”
***
Out of breath, Sakura looked around.
She did not recognize her surroundings at all. Swallowing her uneasiness, she glanced up. She could try for the rooftops, but depending on who was nearby, that may make her an even greater target.
I should have stayed with Izuna, she thought to herself. At least I could have rejoined the Senju field medics.
She prayed the hospital was doing well. She’d managed to subdue over a dozen of the invading army, but her chakra was running low. She would need to rest when she got back before she did any further healing. She was rationing her dwindling chakra to subdue her scent as she traced her steps back to a main road, when she heard the heavy breathing behind her.
Again.
They kept finding and following her. Damn this heat!
Swallowing down the bile at the scent of unshowered alpha that registered in her mind, Sakura made her decision.
She leapt to the top of the nearest building and took off running towards the edge of the thickest, densest battle that she could spy. With the noise and the dust in the cold air, it was easy enough to locate. As she got closer, she released the chakra blockers on her scent, letting it flow freely around her. Below her, she heard more and more bootsteps chasing, heavier breathing, soon chants and calls from the alphas trying to entice her to come down.
A few leapt up to the roof to run alongside Sakura, but she was faster. Glancing down, she was relieved to see they were all enemy soldiers.
Prince Izuna trained his soldiers well, Sakura thought with relief. None of the Konoha guards had chased her; rather, they had begun following the enemy who chased her, closing off their avenues of escape.
As she closed in on the edge of the battle she aimed for, Sakura noticed the enemy below in the same formation that had broken the Uchiha lines over and over again that day. Reaching under her armour to pull out one of her medicine pouches, Sakura narrowed her eyes. With a captive breath, she leapt right over the enemy soldiers, casting a handful of powder down at them. They were immediately overrun by the oncoming monsters chasing Sakura and the powder hit both at once.
The ensuing clash was terrible, and the medicine, an alpha enhancement combination of herbs that would trigger a painful rut in them immediately, only made it worse.
The enemy would smell her again in a moment and continue their chase, but at least for now they were fighting their own forces. Sakura’s smirk was grim. Make the enemy fight each other and take themselves out; it would give Konoha a break to regroup, at least.
Her ploy payed off. After a few minutes, she saw the enemy falling in greater numbers and Konoha attacked anew. With that minor break in the enemy’s coordination, the nearby Uchiha were able to break the enemy’s formation and force them back. Finally, progress!
“Shannaro!” cheered Sakura, pumping her fist.
At that moment, more heavy breathing behind Sakura reminded her that she still had a long way to run. With her now-tested plan in place, she took off again.
As night fell, Sakura turned several divisions of the enemy on themselves one after another with her rut-bomb attacks, providing the Uchiha the means to make headway into the enemy ranks. Finally, after hours, the tide of the battle changed.
Sakura continued criss-crossing the battles, baiting the enemy and turning it on itself whenever she could, leading them into deadends where they could be cornered by the Uchiha. Her omega scent was all over the battlefield, and little did she know, it was driving an Uchiha or two to the edge of their own self-control, too.
The majority of the battles were won by daybreak, with only a few last skirmishes remaining. The Uchiha and Senju had prevailed, in spite of the extensive sabotage. It was a relief for Sakura to turn towards home again, but a late one. As the stars faded from the sky in the early morning hours, exhaustion nipped at Sakura’s heels and, in the darkness, she miscalculated as she jumped across another roof when she turned back toward the hospital. Sakura rolled as she landed, but it was a hard landing regardless. Already, the sharp, telltale stabbing of fractures littered her strained legs and back.
Swallowing down her moan of pain, Sakura swayed on her feet as she stood again, her vision clouding darkly. Head injury, too.
Tsunade was going to be soooo angry when she got back.
The thought made Sakura giggle to herself.
“There you are,” said a strange voice. The sudden stink of unwashed alpha poured over Sakura, making her queasy. “We’ve been looking for you.”
Forcing herself to stand a bit taller, Sakura tried to focus on the ugly man in front of her. There were two of them, but she was sure that was just her impaired vision. But which one to strike?
“That thought’s not shared,” said Sakura.
The man laughed, closing in on her.
“You were very troublesome. We have uses for people like you. Places for you,” he continued. Sakura’s stomach rolled over, and she clenched her teeth.
“An omega like you will be begging for me, once we get you back with us,” he said, and now he was close enough that Sakura’s vision could make out only one of him. “How you aren’t bending over already is just a sign you need a firm hand to guide you.”
“Like you actually could,” quipped Sakura. Her chakra stores dipped low as she pulled more to her injuries, rushing her healing. “I just handed nearly your entire army’s ass to the Uchiha. One asshole won’t take more than a sneeze,” she said.
Her robes hiding her movement, Sakura carefully reached inside her bogu. She always carried extra poison with her.
But Sakura’s hands came back empty.
The poisons were missing from her armour’s hidden compartments.
Sakura swallowed.
Tired. Low on chakra. Isolated. Out of poison...
Gripping her short sword from its holster behind her hip, Sakura looked away to distract the enemy.
When he failed the distraction test, Sakura mentally sighed.
Well, she would just have to replace her robes when she got home.
Sakura’s legs were healed just enough for her to spring at the man and slash his throat. The strike connected. Unfortunately, he kept fighting, and Sakura retreated back and spun off the wall to attack him again. It was an ugly duel, and lasted longer than Sakura wanted. Every minute she stayed in one place was a minute she was more at risk of another attacker in rut finding her. She was far sloppier in her strikes than she liked, and it galled her that had she been at full strength it would have been an easy spar. Unfortunately, this man had been cowardly hiding during the battles, and had plenty of energy to spare.
When Sakura saw her chance, she took it, thrusting her sword through his side and thanking her lucky stars they were still alone. By the end, the enemy fell to his knees, his hands at his throat and chest.
Her heart racing and chest pounding, Sakura leaned back, falling against the nearby building to watch him die slowly.
“You think you’ve won,” gasped the man.
Sakura glared at him with sunken eyes and lax shoulders. She could barely hold herself up.
“But this is only the beginning,” he said.
“You’re a bunch of cockroaches,” muttered Sakura, trying to catch her breath. “The Uchiha will burn your corpses. You’ll die unknown.”
The gurgling, choking noise as the man laughed sanguidly made even Sakura, a medic, cringe in disgust.
“We’ll still be here,” he coughed, falling to the ground where he twitched and was still. His manic grin was still on his lips as Sakura looked away.
Her adrenaline still coursing through her, Sakura waited a moment before leaving. The uneasiness she’d felt all day returned full force. This attack had been planned so carefully, and if the man was telling the truth, then it wasn’t over yet.
She had to tell someone.
This wasn’t the end; she had to let the Uchiha know they had to keep looking.
Prince Izuna, thought Sakura. He’ll listen to me.
She stepped away from the body, but hesitated. Hating herself but knowing it was necessary, Sakura searched the filthy body to be sure. No identification papers, but a hidden scroll full of poisons and antidotes, including the one Sakura strongly suspected was used to make the soldiers ill the night before, and a variety of weapons offered Sakura some insight. Hopefully these would help Prince Izuna in his investigation. Her inspection complete, Sakura closed the dead man’s eyes and pulled his hood over his face.
Wrapping the smelly items in cloth and tucking them into her satchel, Sakura took a deeper breath now that she could breathe again. She wrinkled her nose to clear the nasty alpha’s smells and headed back towards the castle.
***
If Madara had a tail, it would be swishing behind him, thought Izuna, watching his older brother pace through the main hall as the sun rose outside.
Neither Madara nor Izuna had changed from their armour yet, and both were covered in dirt, grime and blood. With the last of the enemy safely locked away in the dungeons below, the reserve soldiers had traded with the on-duty soldiers, allowing the injured and exhausted to seek treatment and rest. Still reviewing what had transpired that day, however, Izuna and Madara met in one of the royal family’s private meeting rooms.
It seemed Madara, or rather his current rut, could not completely ignore the remnants of the battle.
“I can go bathe,” offered Izuna, but Madara spun on his heel and glared at him so hatefully that he blinked.
“I’m fine,” lied Madara.
“You’re not fine, and I can go wash off her scent if it’s bothering you this much. But you need to find her tomorrow. She single-handedly turned that battle in our favour by putting herself at risk. She was exactly what we needed, a distraction. We should send word to Tsunade to bring her to the castle to thank her,” wheedled Izuna. He sat back in his cushioned chair, mindful of his sore side. His slight wince caught his brother’s attention, however.
“You’re still injured,” said Madara, advancing on Izuna.
“I’m going to be fine,” soothed Izuna, shifting so he was more comfortable. His eyes softened as he took in his brother’s stressed, taut expression. “But you need to summon a comfort omega before… Before things get more difficult for you.”
“What was her name, the girl who healed you?” demanded Madara. “She didn’t do a good enough job.”
“I told you, Tsunade’s apprentice. The same young woman who helped you this—I mean, yesterday morning,” sighed Izuna. “And she did an incredible job, actually. We should consider hiring her. If not for the castle as a medic, then as a strategist for the army. I’ll speak for her.”
Annoyed at Izuna’s deflection, Madara shook his head, picking up his pacing again.
“No, she was too young,” said Madara, half to himself.
“She was trained for battle, but I don’t think she was a full service medic. She was out to deliver a message when she got caught in the fray, as far as I could tell,” explained Izuna. Leaning forward, he rubbed at his temples. He laughed to himself a moment. “She said she was fast. I had no idea medics could be that fast, though. Maybe we should train with the Senju?”
Izuna sighed when Madara ignored his attempts to defuse the tension and distract him.
“Could you help me with my bogu? She tied it pretty tightly,” said Izuna, fiddling with his ties. “I think we need to speak to Tsunade tomorrow anyway about what happened at the hospital, barracks and castle. There are too many loose ends to this. I don’t like it.”
“Hn,” agreed Madara distantly after a moment.
His dark brows were furrowed in concentration, and Izuna wondered what specifically was occupying his brother’s mind. He debated asking, but knew no one would get Madara to talk until he was good and ready.
Fortunately, Madara nodded to himself about something, joining his younger brother and neatly undoing each of Izuna’s pieces of armour. In a few minutes each section was undone and arranged neatly on the heavy oak table along the wall behind them.
“I’ll ask someone to collect this and take care of it,” yawned Izuna, gently stretching his tired muscles as his brother quietly watched him. His shoulders sagged. “I’m fine.”
“I’ll call someone. You go rest,” said Madara, pressing his lips together. “Go wash first.”
Izuna laughed. To everyone else, Madara was a fearsome tyrant; to Izuna, he was a mother hen. But then, Madara had been both mother and father to Izuna as they grew up, after their parents passed away.
As he stood, Izuna reached for Madara and pulled him into a hug. He felt the exact moment his brother inhaled and growled under his breath. Madara still embraced him, however, rubbing his wrist gland over his hair to enforce his scent on him again.
“And that’s my cue to go have a nice long bath,” chuckled Izuna, patting his brother on the back and releasing him. “Go summon one of your favourites, so she doesn’t get too scared of you.”
At that, Madara did bare his teeth and snap at Izuna, but Izuna only chuckled as he left.
Then, the room was silent and Madara felt the loneliness consume him. The years and battles weighed on him, and his shoulders sagged under their heavy armour.
He had nearly lost his kingdom that day.
He had nearly lost his last brother.
Madara sat on another seat, staring unseeing at Izuna’s vacated chair. Time passed and before he knew it, there was a knock at the door. Outside, the sun shone through the windows.
“Sire, there’s a young woman to see Prince Izuna,” said one of their servants, Hisao, a few minutes later. “She said it was about the battle.”
Rubbing at his face, Madara nodded.
“Send her in. And please have someone collect Izuna’s bogu.”
“Of course, sire.”
***
Glancing down at herself as she stood outside the meeting room, Sakura realized she really should have washed the blood off her clothes and hands at the very least before she showed up to speak to the Crown Prince. With a silent sigh, she shook her head. It was too late now.
“He’ll see you now,” said Misao, and Sakura nodded in thanks.
When Sakura entered the private meeting room, her footsteps slowed as her head swam. The room was full of the scent of powerful alpha, and Sakura’s mouth instantly watered, her head going light. The smells of battle, sweat, blood, and weapon grease, permeated the air in the background, but the man before her was the reason her knees shook.
She looked around, then, and realized they were alone.
“You aren’t Prince Izuna,” said Sakura, her voice higher than usual. She swallowed hard, the butterflies in her stomach flittering about wildly. A storm was brewing inside her.
In his seat, the tall, raven-haired man shook his head. His wild ponytail swished gracefully behind him, even longer than Prince Izuna’s hair. “He’s gone to rest. I understand that you have some information to share.”
Sakura looked at the door.
“I can come back,” she hedged, eyeing the door. It was him. The man from yesterday morning at the castle. The one that Izuna had warned her about.
He narrowed his inky eyes at her.
“You’re the one from the morning,” he said, recognition in his voice. Then, to her surprise, he added, more softly, “You healed Izuna.”
Tilting her head as she nodded, Sakura took another quick look around. Perhaps if she sat away from him, his presence wouldn’t affect her as much? A part of her deep inside wailed at the prospect of moving away from this imposing alpha, this perfect potential mate, but her head insisted.
With her eyes on the tall, wild-haired man, Sakura inched her way to the side, coming to sit on an uncomfortable bench seat beside the door to the room. There. Access to fresh air and every—
“Close the door and come here,” ordered the man.
“Um,” said Sakura, trying to think of a polite way to decline that wouldn’t get her thrown in jail.
The man glared at her.
Immediately unhappy at how she had upset him, Sakura got up stiffly and did as she was told. All the while the man observed her like a predator. Her stomach tightened at his intense focus.
“Thank you for coming back,” he began, and Sakura nodded.
Seated right across from him, she struggled not to admire how handsome he was. It made things so much worse that he was good looking, and obviously powerful if he handled Prince Izuna’s affairs, and his smell was so enticing, she couldn’t help leaning toward him—
Clenching her thighs together tighter, Sakura made a small noise of affirmation.
“Thank you also for looking after Izuna. You did a great deal to serve the kingdom, and the royal family today. A full show of appreciation will take place at a later time, but you should know that you impressed the Prince today. What information did you bring to share?” he asked.
His words warmed her. She made him happy. She had pleased him. This was wonderful! Inside, warmth bubbled up inside Sakura pleasantly, and pooled headily in her lower belly.
Still basking in his praise, Sakura stared dumbly at the man.
“Hn?” he asked, turning to look at her more fully.
Information… information… did she bring infor—RIGHT. The information!
“I don’t think it’s the end,” said Sakura, cutting off her daydream. “On my way back to the hospital, I was attacked—”
She reached into her satchel, only to be suddenly pinned to the oak table. Her aching back protested and Sakura winced as the Royal Guard glared down at her.
“Your hands must remain visible at all times,” said her interviewer in a steely tone.
“My back,” gasped Sakura, arching in pain. “Everything is in my bag, take it,” she whined, too tired to keep fighting in a way that would be respectful. While part of her had been thrilled to be touched, the pain throughout her body had exhausted her. Completely out of sorts, she slumped back into her chair when he released her, nudging her bag to him with her foot. She brought a hand to her face, hiding her eyes from the sunlight that stabbed at her pupils. She had been awake for over a day and every minute kept getting worse.
But the man swallowed, studying her.
“You’re injured?”
“No shit,” muttered Sakura from behind her hands, forgoing propriety. Servant to the kingdom or not, she had obviously just come from battle, she had fought for her own life repeatedly, she had saved Prince Izuna’s life, and this Royal Guard had manhandled her like a prisoner. She moaned under her breath as she tried to straighten, but she was too tired. The pain lanced through all her instincts to remind her that while she was an omega, she was also very human, and at that moment, she was still quite severely injured.
“Look, he attacked. I killed him,” sighed Sakura, trying again to straighten up and get to the point. “But when he died, he said, “You think you’ve won, but this is only the beginning” and “We’re still here”. I searched him, but he didn’t have any identification papers. I brought Prince Izuna his weapons and personal effects, so he can investigate them.”
She closed her eyes, letting her head fall back and her hands flop down as another pain made itself known in the back of her head. Fantastic.
“That’s it,” she said, her voice gravelly. “Can I go now?”
Sakura knew she sounded whiny and petulant, but she was done. She was completely done. The royal family could go jump in a frigid lake. She had trudged back and forth to the castle, healed this idiot, spent all day running across the kingdom’s capital as a medic and even soldier, put her damn life on the line, and now, this asshole was manhandling her? No.
The guard was silent a moment, then two, and Sakura focused on her breathing.
Breathe in the fresh air, breathe out the pain…
When she opened her eyes, she realized the Guard was gone. Looking at the doorway, she saw him motioning someone closer. Misao again.
“... she needs clean clothes, food, water, medicine… yes, the room next to mine… as soon as possible…notify the Senju that Tsunade’s apprentice will remain at the castle overnight...”
Narrowing her eyes, Sakura tried to figure out what was going on.
“I’m not staying here. You’re an asshole,” said Sakura, her words slurred with sleep. The Royal Guardsman returned to her side then and, to Sakura’s indignation, lifted her easily in his arms. Her stomach unsteady, Sakura grabbed his arms—his very nicely defined arms, her subconscious noted delightedly.
“You have a concussion, you’re injured, and you’re exhausted. The least we can do is ensure that you get a good night’s rest,” said the asshole as he walked down a hallway and around several corners. A half-beat later, he added in a strained voice, “Did you just call me an asshole?”
“Yep,” confided Sakura, half-asleep, as he carried through a doorway to a new room. “The shoe fits.”
The soft huff of amusement he gave lifted Sakura’s loose hair that had escaped her headwrap. His breath was warm and made her insides tingle most pleasantly, to her chagrin.
“Make sure you tell Prince Izuna,” mumbled Sakura, yawning. “All the stuff from earlier.”
“Hn,” agreed the Guard, gently setting her down. “Nanao?”
New hands came to help Sakura out of her clothes and into the steaming water then, and when Sakura opened her eyes to look around she found the Guard was gone. As she sank into the water, Sakura gasped at the wonderful scented oils and the way the water massaged her skin.
“Healing salts?” Sakura asked Nanao, the servant who had remained to assist her.
“Yes, his highness said to make sure you were well taken care of,” assured Nanao kindly, nodding her head in its black and white headwrap. Sakura recognized it as indicating Nanao was a servant directly serving the Royal Family.
“Prince Izuna is so thoughtful,” sighed Sakura, letting her eyes close again.
Nanao smiled with amusement and nodded, adding in a strange lilt, “He is.”
With that, Sakura enjoyed her soak as her eyes occasionally sank shut and Nanao would consequently drip just a little water on Sakura’s face to keep her awake.
By the time Sakura was rubbed dry and dressed in clean bedclothes, had eaten a light meal and climbed into bed, light had risen outside her blinds. She was completely exhausted.
“When would you like to be woken?” asked Nanao kindly, tucking Sakura in like a child.
“Suppertime,” yawned Sakura. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yawn in your face, that’s rude.”
“It’s quite alright. You looked after Prince Izuna today, and we are incredibly grateful. Sleep well, miss,” said Nanao.
But Sakura was already snoring.
***
Breakfast passed.
Lunch passed.
Supper passed, and in spite of her best efforts, Nanao could not wake Sakura.
“It’s okay,” Izuna assured Nanao, patting her shoulder. They stood at the doorway to Sakura’s room, checking on her. The sun had gone down an hour before and the room was dark again. “She is probably in a healing sleep. One more night won’t hurt. I’ll let Tsunade know. If she wakes, she can call for some food.”
Fretting, Nanao nodded and closed the door, leaving Sakura alone again.
It was shortly thereafter that Sakura, her body now healed, felt the return of her heat.
***
Alone in his room, Madara locked himself away for the entire day.
Meals were served to him, reports were sent to him, and he’d sent his own reports—with the Senju visitor’s recounting of her assault—to Izuna. But this rut was a dark one, tearing away at him the longer he denied his instincts.
He was ashamed that he hadn’t been able to better protect his kingdom.
His own brother, someone he cherished, had been harmed and not only had he not been there to protect him, but he hadn’t punished the person responsible, either.
An omega in heat, unmated at that, had been the one to come up with a way to distract their enemy and change the course of their battle, putting herself at great personal risk. She had gone back again and again to confuse them, and at the end of it all, she had been individually attacked—and in spite of her heat, she had overcome her assailant and brought key information back to the palace, as was her duty.
Instead of rewarding her when she had come to see him—no, not him; Izuna, his brother—, Madara had harmed her with his own hands in his exhausted, overstimulated panic.
He was a disgrace.
Afraid he would harm her further, Madara locked himself away in his personal chambers.
It was his own fault that, in his attempt to help her, he had inadvertently put her in the room beside his. And now her heat rose higher. If anything, it was coming on stronger, possibly brought out by his own pheromones being so close by. Night had fallen outside and he had to make it through another dozen hours before he could send her away for her own safety. It was a perfectly apt torture for himself.
Growling in his throat, Madara ran his hands through his hair again as he continued pacing.
At the knock on his door, he lifted his nose.
“Can I come in?” called Izuna.
The shaft of jealousy that spiked through Madara startled him. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and turned away. Red rimmed, sunken eyes, unkempt hair, sallow skin—he looked terrible. If he were to indulge in his instincts, he knew it would reflect appropriately in his appearance, but he was unworthy of that.
“I showered,” added Izuna from behind the door.
His shoulders relaxing with mild relief, Madara unlocked the door.
“She’s still asleep next door, but she’s doing well. By tomorrow morning she’ll be in perfect health again and ready to head home,” said Izuna, reassuring Madara as he pushed the door open. His pleasantries faded as he took in Madara’s visage. His volume dropped, as did his brow. “You haven’t called for a comfort—”
“I don’t deserve one,” snarled Madara, slamming the door.
But Izuna, fully healed, shoved the door open wide and stalked in, shutting it behind him.
“That’s garbage. Go bathe. We’re going out,” ordered Izuna.
“You’re ashamed of me, too. You want to keep me away from her so I don’t ruin her,” spat Madara. He paced his room again, keeping Izuna in his sights. His competition.
“You’re delirious from this rut, Madara,” said Izuna, standing firm against his brother’s madness. “You either come out with me or I call for someone for you.”
“I don’t want anyone!”
“You do!” shouted Izuna, stepping in front of Madara. “This isn’t the first time you’ve sequestered yourself, Madara. I know you. You want someone to care for. You want someone to share your life with. You want a mate. And you deserve one!”
“I’m a danger to them—”
“You’re a danger to yourself if you don’t!” shouted Izuna, pressing into Madara’s personal space. “There are many people in your kingdom who would put their lives on the line to protect you and the kingdom. Yesterday, the entire populace came together to fight together to protect our peace. You dishonour them by not trying harder to make peace with yourself.”
Toe to toe with Izuna, Madara glared down at his younger brother as his words sank in.
“They are strong enough to support you,” promised Izuna. “Let them. Trust yourself. You will not do wrong by them. You won’t hurt them.”
Madara swallowed as guilt soured his mouth.
“I hurt her yesterday,” he admitted softly as the guilt gnawed a deeper hole inside him.
“Who? The Senju medic?” asked Izuna, his brows drawing together.
“She arrived after you left. We were alone. She went for her bag. My head was still buzzing from the battle adrenaline. I grabbed her.” Madara’s jaw worked. “She fell.”
Izuna stilled, then leaned back.
“She arrived here hurt, is my understanding,” said Izuna slowly. “Misao told me she could barely stand. If she had been healthy and whole, you would not have hurt her at all. You were restraining her. It’s unfortunate that you aggravated her injuries, but you did not intentionally hurt her. Apologize to her. You may be a king, but you’re also a man. A gentleman, even, when it suits you.”
Madara looked away from his brother’s earnest expression.
Izuna’s words made sense. But it was hard to let himself off the hook. The way the omega had cried, “My back!”, in such pain, while in heat, lanced through him like a blade every time he remembered it. As an alpha, his job was to see to his omega’s needs. He hadn’t even realized how hurt this omega in his care was. This person who had risked everything to protect his kingdom. He owed her so much. She was his responsibility. How could he repay her so callously?
Yet Izuna was also correct. They were all exhausted and fighting their urges, last night. He hadn’t seen or spoken to the young Senju medic since then. Perhaps he could speak to her, when she woke, and find out what her thoughts were on how best he recompense her for her bravery, her service? Could he buy her forgiveness?
… buy his way out like a coward…
Taking a breath, Madara mentally shook himself. No. He would apologize to her properly.
He needed to stop dwelling on that moment. It was extremely difficult; like trying not to feel the chill of snow and sleet when it surrounded and buried you, covering you with an impenetrable layer of ice. Suffocating you slowly. But he had to try.
Deciding that he would speak to her when she was next awake, Madara tried to push away the twinges of uncertainty. It was time to move forward as Izuna suggested and Madara considered the rest of his interaction with the omega and frowned.
“She called me an asshole,” admitted Madara.
There was silence.
Izuna’s lips trembled a moment, but he chuckled in spite of himself, adding insult to Madara’s injury.
“Are you pouting?” wheedled Izuna, grinning at his brother. “You are. She’s certainly a brave one. I would have paid to see that…”
Madara scowled at his brother, his madness gradually fading.
“It was rude.”
Izuna nodded, still grinning.
“Your first rejection, finally,” teased Izuna, throwing an arm over his brother’s broad shoulders, shaking him. Madara avoided his gaze.
Izuna sobered.
“Come out, ‘dara. Come see the kingdom you fought so hard to protect. Enjoy it, for once,” cajoled Izuna, giving his brother a small, genuine, if sad smile. “Apologize to the apprentice first thing tomorrow. If she rejects you again, you send her on her way and set aside a pension or honorarium for her, which I am happy to deliver in your stead so there are no misunderstandings between the Senju and Uchiha. She is Tsunade’s apprentice, after all, and she’s tough. She earned her soldier’s pension yesterday in battle, I’ll guarantee you that.”
Releasing his brother, Izuna came to stand in front of Madara, taking his shoulders
“You haven’t done anything unforgivable,” reassured Izuna, holding Madara’s gaze.
Later, Madara would think back on those foolish words and how they would come to haunt him for years to come.
