NARUTO: Tobirama/Sakura - "The Lost Ones" drabble series [Part Ten] - #tobisakuweek2023

     

Prompt: Fake Dating

Rating: T, maybe M later
Squicks: Misunderstandings, loss of family, misunderstood intimacy

A/N: Age Chart


Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven || Part Eight || Part Nine || Part Ten ||

#

Over the next several days, nothing could shake Tobirama’s frown. 

Hashirama and Madara fielded several interviews about Sakura’s wellbeing.

“She’s recovering at home with no major injuries,” assured Hashirama. “We’re checking on her regularly and her brothers and cousins are probably driving her crazy by now,” he chuckled, drawing in the media with his wide smile. “Sakura isn’t the type to take things lying down.”

“Her next album may be a touch vengeful,” mused Madara in another album. His cutting smile had a feral edge to it. “Look forward to it.”

“I’m fine,” said Sakura to Tsunade. She lied painfully.

#

“They found him, we think,” said Tsunade.

She and Sakura were seated in Sakura’s living room in her downtown condo. It was easiest for her family and friends to reach her there, and security had been tripled since the incident.

“’Think’?” asked Sakura warily.

“There wasn’t much left of him,” explained Tsunade. She held Sakura’s gaze thoughtfully. “You said you got in a few good hits?”

“His face and throat… I knee-dropped onto his ribs…”

Tsunade considered Sakura’s words.

“… It was much worse than that…”

Sakura’s heart tightened. The man deserved it. He deserved worse. 

“Good,” she said, lethally.

#

The mirror was not kind to Sakura while she recovered.

The swelling around her eyes and cheeks ached when she spoke or smiled. The discomfort of her dislocated shoulder made her queasy at times, even if it was back in place. Her legs, hands, arms… Her split lip… Her aching head…

Swallowing, she calmly walked to her kitchen, withdrew a cardboard container from under her sink, and carried it, along with a roll of duct tape, through her condo. Every mirror, every piece of chrome, every reflective surface she wrapped in black garbage bags.

“I’m fine,” she lied to herself. 

 

#

Two weeks passed without a picture, audio file, recording, or sighting of Sakura.

“She’s still getting her feet under her, huh?” asked Hashirama as he passed Madara and Izuna in the halls of the recording studio. Izuna cleared a small meeting room for them and Tobirama followed his brother and the Uchihas inside. Izuna locked the door behind them to ensure their privacy.

“She’s taking it hard. It hasn’t been this bad, before,” admitted Izuna uneasily.

“It’s happened in the past?” asked Tobirama.

“When she was younger,” Madara’s soft tone carried guilt and heavy remorse. “This is all my fault.”

#

“I never should have let her into the industry.”

Tobirama mulled over Madara’s words. Up until a few weeks ago, he would have agreed with Madara. Sakura was too young to have been thrown into the megastardom she had built, the fame and expectations, not just of her talent, but her appearance, her endurance, her patience. No one under twenty-five should have had to deal with what she had, let alone grown up in it.

She had earned her place among the celebrity legends. She deserved happiness.

Sakura would thrive. And she was strong. Stronger than the others realized.

#

When a month went by with no public appearances by Sakura, Madara and Hashirama met up at Hashirama’s mansion for a meeting with Kakashi and Tsunade.

“It won’t look good if we both abandon her while she’s struggling,” argued Hashirama. Madara nodded once beside him.

“This has gone on way too long. She deserves a break,” snapped Tsunade, glaring at them.

“Is there someone else she could connect with and date, perhaps as a rebound, to get back into the spotlight? Who would benefit from a cross-promotion relationship?” wondered Kakashi aloud.

Disgusted, Tobirama left, slamming the door behind him.

#

T: Hey.

S: Who is this?

T: Tobirama.

S: … Tobi?

T: Yeah. You busy?

S: LOL, no. I’m a beast sleeping in my crypt.

T: You’re not a beast, unless the other guy had it coming.

S: Some do.

T: They do.

S: What’s up?

T: Want to go for a drive?

There was a pause and Tobirama wondered if he’d invaded her privacy and healing, if he’d ruined her day, if he’d overreacted in his attempt to connect with and distract her. When his phone buzzed with her return text, he sighed with relief.

S: … Your car or mine?

#

“Can we not get a ticket today?”

“It’s mid-month, the cops don’t need to make quota until the end,” explained Sakura over the growl of her twin-turbo engine. “Besides, they accept tap now. I just pay as they catch me. They like the chase. Keeps their skills sharp.”

Tobirama shook his head and tried to hide his grin behind his hand.

She glanced at him, smirking.

“You like riding fast,” she teased. “I know you, Tobirama.”

“I like to arrive alive at my destination,” he countered.

“So where to?”

The pause stretched. 

He looked at her.

“… my place…”

#

Sakura would never admit it, but her heart had warmed when Tobirama invited her out. He was… more fun than people thought. He didn’t ask anything of her outside her company. Never offered expensive gifts or tried to impress her. He let her be herself and offered his company so she could do what she wanted without having to be alone. Sure, she was surrounded by people on the daily, but those people relied on her continued success for their income and wellbeing.

His words surprised her.

“… my place…”

—she couldn’t ignore the way her stomach tightened at his invitation.

#

She tried not to fidget as they rode Tobirama’s elevator.

His hands in his pockets, he glanced at her. “You okay?”

“Fine!”

His brows furrowed. “Do you need to rest? Is this too much?”

She waved her hands in front of her. “No, I’m good.”

He nodded and watched her from the corner of his eye.

The elevator groaned to a stop and they stepped out. 

“This way,” said Tobirama. 

Sakura’s breath caught in her throat as he unlocked a particular door. He smirked at her wide eyes.

“Some pieces are over a century old,” he cautioned. “Come on in.”

#

Tobirama’s private conservatory collection. Sakura’s heart choked her as she reached a trembling hand to a lute. She glanced up at him and he nodded, a small smile warming his lips.

“Would you like me to bring a chair over so you don’t faint?”

“Yes please,” whispered Sakura in awe, tracing a finger over the Spanish guitar. “A vihuela? How old?”

“Fifteenth century,” answered Tobirama, setting two stools down beside her.

She whirled on him, yanking her hand back.

“I can’t touch that!”

“I play it often. You’re fine,” he said, pushing her shoulders gently so she plopped down. “Here.”

#

A guitar. A several-hundred years old guitar. In her hands. Sakura strummed it gently, smiling at the unusual tones.

“It’s close but not quite the same as a modern guitar,” she mused aloud. “But it sounds so familiar.”

Tobirama nodded. “We have occasionally used it for our recordings, but it’s too delicate to bring on the road.”

“That’s why I recognize it!”

“Ah.”

“Why do you not play lead? You always choose bass or drums. I thought you sang…”

Tobirama shook his head. “Hashirama’s better at being the face of things.”

She tilted her head. “You compose, don’t you?”

#

“I only compose, not sing,” he said. She didn’t know. She couldn’t know. He looked around. “Would you like to try something else?”

He lured her one way, but she turned when she saw the large, blanketed hulk in the corner. Mincing carefully between the many instruments, she gasped when she yanked off the cover, revealing its gleaming, lustrous surface and keys.

“You have a Steinway concert grand piano in here!”

Feigning nonchalance, Tobirama nodded. His voice dried up, he couldn’t speak.

Sakura’s fingers reverently traced the ivory keys.

“May I?” she breathed. She lifted the top at his nod.

#

He’d known she was trained, remembered her playing from years ago, but on the literal masterpiece that was the Steinway, her expert recitation of Chopin’s Nocturnes stole his breath. As the final notes faded, echoing around them, he watched the emotions playing across her face. Her stress shed its grasp on her as her fingers resettled for another song.

Then, her eyes closing, she opened her mouth and sang “Power of Love”. Softly at first, then louder, then with all the powerful emotions her body contained. Tears stained her cheeks. 

A shiver ran between Tobirama’s shoulder blades. 

She was… everything.

#

The silence at the end of the song stretched between them, the confession of Sakura’s pain, the concealment of Tobirama’s. He hadn’t been able to tear his eyes from her.

Sakura fake-coughed and wiped her eyes delicately with her sleeve. “Huh, sorry. My insane jealousy got the better of me,” she tried to joke, her eyes admiring the piano, her gaze lingering. “If you’re ever willing to rent her out, or sell her…”

“Never,” he said quietly.

Her shoulders sank. “Yeah, I should’ve known…”

“… You’re welcome to play it at any time here, instead.”

Her wide eyes consumed him.

#

Tsunade looked up as Sakura flew into her office at the record label company.

“I need to record something,” blurted Sakura, not waiting for Tsunade to greet her or tell her off for interrupting her.

“You’re radio-silent for over a month—” began Tsunade harshly, but Sakura waved her hands, her eyes luminous.

“Now! Now now now!”

Practically vibrating with energy, Sakura bounced on her feet, pleading with her manager. “I’ll get it in one take, I swear.”

Crossing her arms over her ample chest, Tsunade frowned at Sakura and leaned back in her chair. 

“Fine,” said Tsunade. “One take.”

#

TBC

AN: Please check out this GORGEOUS fanart for "The Lost Ones" by lateroofnights  !!!!