moor

["Pop the Top" on AO3]

Previous Snippets of "Pop the Top" - Finale (You may find bits and pieces, or variations, of these within the fuller chapter below):
[29 Aug 2021]
[23 Feb 2022]
[06 Mar 2022]

AN: While this chapter is incomplete, please find the first part of the rough draft of "Pop the Top"'s finale under the cut. There are chronology errors, typos, and other issues (please, please, point them out in the comments--it will help me find them and go back and correct them when I edit the main doc before I post it to AO3). I hope this helps tide you over while I continue working on the official version, though. :)

Due to the character limit on posting, I will be shortly creating a second entry to immediately follow this one with more of the story.

Words: Approx. 7,000 || Rating: NC-17 || Finale Part One
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The night was late as Itachi and Sakura stood in the front doorway of her apartment.

Warmth tingled down Sakura’s arms as Itachi’s hands trailed away. Her heart hammered in her chest as he gazed down at her fondly, the soft, tender look on his face at odds with the pain she could read in his eyes.

“We’ll figure it out,” he promised, lifting a hand to cup her cheek.

Without meaning to, Sakura sighed.

‘It’ being their situation. It had been six and a half months since they had last made love. With the loss of Shisui as a potential triad partner, Itachi had refused to risk Sakura’s wellbeing by inviting anyone else into their relationship, and while Sakura was grateful he prioritized her so highly, she missed him. The most Itachi would do was cuddle with her while still wearing their underwear, or bring her to completion with his hands or lips. She was very appreciative, but he refused to let her return the favour because of the risk of him knotting. It was considerate and adorable and drove Sakura to perdition as he often left her alone even when she was wanting, out of the urge to protect her from himself and his own needs.

There were some evenings when she felt so pent-up she could admit to perhaps abusing their bond, stroking herself under her covers as she touched the brand at her shoulder, ignoring whose name crossed her lips. The dark eyes and hair, imagining the way they would pull her up their body, or push into her, whisper her name like a prayer, would send a shiver across her skin as she would crest and shudder. Out of courtesy to Itachi, she would wait until he was home before doing so, after what happened the first time.

But she missed him.

He squeezed her hand, summoning her attention back to him as he bid her goodbye.

“We will,” agreed Sakura, though her tiredness came through in her tone.

Itachi heard it. She could tell by how his eyes sagged at the corners. A muscle ticked in his jaw but Sakura forced a smile.

“Go home,” she said, giving his suit jacket a gentle tug. “Get some rest.”

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing her brow sweetly. His low voice mirrored the loneliness that ached in her chest like a wound.

“Love you, too,” murmured Sakura.

###

It was a very late night for Madara in his personal office at home. Holding a black, untitled book in his hand, Madara appraised the old pictures on the mantle. Photos of his family going back several generations stared back at him.
There were his brothers, smiling or carousing when they were young and boarding a family yacht docked at the marina, surrounded by towels, fishing rods, snacks and bottles of sunscreen. There were his grandparents, his grandmother stiffly seated in a chair, her husband with a firm grip on her shoulder, beside her. There were photos of his great, and great-great grandparents. There were more recent pictures, too, of Itachi, Sasuke and their parents.

There was another picture, taken around the same time as that of Sasuke and Itachi, that sat beside it and drew his attention. Upon closer look he remembered it had been taken several years before the one with Itachi and Sasuke.

The family pictured was the last triad the Uchiha had known. A generation ago. At one time the family was praised and lauded for the benefits all had anticipated. Then tragedy had befallen them, forcing him into his role as lead alpha within the Clan as their cycle broke, unfortunately coinciding with the moment he was thrust into the position of Clan Head while he was still so young, himself.

How old had he been? Sixteen? He wondered, thinking back decades before, letting the years and their challenges and triumphs flow through him like water as he remembered the turmoil and chaos and heavy mantle of responsibility from that tumultuous time. How he had done the only thing he could think of, to keep them going. How every day since, it came more and more to light that they had all made mistakes in spite of their best intentions, and who had paid the price for them.

He picked the picture up, his lips sagging in the corners as he remembered the pain and anguish of that time.

The woman in the picture, the omega, had been nearly torn apart at the loss. Not just the loss of one of her mates, but the loss of the babe in her arms. The familiar face of the youngster burned into Madara’s heart. So young and innocent. The loss of the child had devastated them all. The young one had always been special. Even now, Madara felt responsible for him. Felt he had failed him.

The emotions his memories evoked were a blend of happiness, anticipation for his brothers’ futures and intense pain for them, too. Madara had learned long ago to hide his emotions. Looking back, had that concealment been what led to part of the tragic endings of…

His heart contracted within his chest with the ache that never truly left him.

When he thought of Sakura, who wore her heart on her sleeve, his eyes turned down in the corners. Gods, were the rewards worth the risks? After all he had done, all they had done to her?

Carefully he set the photo back down on the mantle with a small clack, adjusting it so it was perfectly aligned with the others again. His eyes fell upon those of the baby in his mother’s arms, and he let the guilt in, just for a moment, just to feel it again and remind himself why it was so important that such heartache never be allowed to transpire again.

That was why he must tell her; it was why she must know.

Sakura deserved to know. The good that came with a stable triad, the challenges that accompanied its responsibilities, and the bad they may suffer should one of its members be lost. She deserved to have every opportunity to decide her fate.

This time, he would ensure that she was looked after, no matter what she chose. As he had mentioned to her during her visit, even if she left the Uchiha entirely, he would protect her.

His eyes were drawn back to the photo of the last triad. The shining eyes of the cheerful infant stared back at Madara. His chest tightened.

As he should have protected them, years ago.

Carefully Madara packed the black-covered book into the brass-bound trunk, sliding it between the one that came before it and the ones that followed it. He had tried to organise the tomes in chronological order, but where there were multiple versions of events, he had tried to group them together, too. The more information she had available to her, the more informed her decision would be.

It was the last book. That book had been the one that had left him the most conflicted. His chest heavy, Madara leaned forward, gripping the sides of the trunk as he closed his eyes.

Was this foolishness?

Was he opening them up to more risk than it was worth?

“You know so little of me, my omega.”

His words from their second night together returned to him.

“Until you learn how to treat those around you like people, instead of pawns to be manipulated, I have no need of you. Others are more than willing to join me and Itachi and help us if we need it. Genuinely help us, not seek some kind of advantage,” Sakura said, her disgust evident in her last sentence. “I’m sure you have much to offer, but you aren’t here to help anyone other than yourself, Madara.”

“You know nothing,” Madara said lowly.

“Prove me wrong,” she replied over her shoulder. “And get out.”

Her words had been angry and cruel.

When Sakura had visited him at his own home, alone, had he proven himself? Had she changed her mind about him? He remained unsure. Looking down into the wealth of knowledge and history carefully curated and packed by his own two hands, he hoped this olive branch reached her and convinced her.

With one last look over the trunk’s contents, he sealed it, locked it and popped the key into an envelope.

###

At the knock on her door, Sakura glanced at the clock on the stove. It was almost six-thirty. That was odd, she wasn’t expecting anyone that night.

She set the pot back down in the sink, rinsed her rubber-gloved hands, and pulled them and her apron off as she made her way to the front door.

“Hello?” she called.
“Hey,” said a familiar voice from the other side of the door.

“Sasuke?”

Opening the door, Sakura stared at her friend, her brow furrowed. “What’s up?” she asked, looking behind him for Naruto, but Sasuke stepped in front of her.

Sasuke gave her one of his patented Looks, and Sakura shook her head and stepped back. “Come on in.”

Sasuke nodded to her and followed her inside. When she made to close the door, it was his turn to shake his head at her. Behind him climbed several dark-haired men heaving an enormous and very heavy trunk, going by their red faces and strained grip.

“In the living room,” directed Sasuke, pointing.

The men followed his lead and set the trunk down by the couch. Sasuke nodded at them as they left, thanking them. He closed the door behind them.

Mouth gaping, Sakura just stared.

“What was that?” she demanded when she remembered how to speak.

“A delivery.”

“Why?”

“I’ll get to it.”

Sakura glared at her long-time friend. He returned the look, unfazed and aloof. Sakura threw her hands in the air, heading back to the kitchen.

“Have you eaten?”

“Ah.”

“Then sit and wait while I finish my dishes…”

Instead of sitting, he joined her and made tea, bringing it out to the living room with a pair of cups from the cupboard.

When Sakura rejoined Sasuke later, he lounged on an armchair, some distance from the couch.

She looked between him and the couch, and the unusually extended distance.
“Do I suddenly have mange?” she asked dryly.

Sasuke shook his head, glancing away from her for a second.

Her eyes narrowed. “Then what?”

“You’re riled.”

“So?”

Sasuke avoided her gaze again for a moment before tapping the side of his nose.
Sakura stared at him before it hit her.

“Thanks. Real gentlemanly, Sasuke.”

“It’s not you. It’s the couch… and other places.”

Coughing to clear her throat and hopefully the burn that itched the back of her neck. Sakura nodded. Ah. She and Itachi had made ample use of her apartment and its privacy for… Hm. Geez. He had never said anything before. Had it always been like this? Had he just not said anything because she never did? Or had it not been an issue?

Deciding to pursue it another time, Sakura’s shoulders slumped.

“I… didn’t know. Sorry.”

“I wouldn’t have known for sure either if not for…” His voice trailed off as he stared at the floor between them, his eyes glassy. Shaking himself, he reached into his breast pocket and placed an envelope on the trunk.

“What’s that?”

“Open it.”

Reaching over the trunk, she picked it up. Surprised by its heft, Sakura opened it, only for something to fall into her lap. A brass key with a note folded around it. She removed the note and weighed the key in her hand. It was old, heavy, yet untarnished.

When Sakura glanced up at Sasuke, he looked meaningfully at the trunk.

“Why did you bring me a trunk?”

Sasuke sighed.

“It’s not from me. It’s from my uncle.”

Sakura’s hand froze midway to the lock.

“He said you were expecting this.”

“I’ll be in touch, Sakura.”

Her heart pounded in her chest for a moment before Sakura nodded.

“What’s the deal?” asked Sasuke when Sakura retreated to the couch, leaving the trunk untouched.

“Huh?”

“What’s the deal with you and my uncle? I thought you and my brother were together… and maybe Shisui,” said Sasuke, his voice queasy on the latter. “You were establishing a triad.”

Sakura’s eyes whipped to Sasuke’s.

“What do you know,” she asked evenly.

Sasuke cocked his head to the side. “A bit. Not much.”

“What do you mean by ‘a bit’?”

Never before had Sakura seen Sasuke squirm in his seat the way he did at her question.

“I know that you’re an omega. I know that Itachi has been looking into forming a triad. I know Shisui and Madara are high-ranking alphas, so naturally, you would consider them as part of your potential triad mates. I know I am also roughly on Shisui’s level, rank-wise, but when my brother took me out to try and discuss matters with me… he had an unfortunate, uh, event occur.”

Sakura arched a brow.

“That you provoked in him.”

It took a second before it clicked. That night. When he had asked her not to touch her mark after… Oh no. He had been with Sasuke.

Sakura’s face burned.

“Oh.”

Sasuke crossed a leg over his knee and shrugged.

“I thought at first you and Itachi chose Shisui, but Shisui hasn’t been around much the last few months,” said Sasuke. “I know Itachi hasn’t asked me since.” He faced her. “So that leaves either a lower-ranked Uchiha, which I don’t see my brother inviting into his private life, considering his position, or… one of my uncles.”

“What do you mean, ‘one of your uncles’? I thought Madara was the only one?”

Sasuke blinked. Then his shoulders sagged as his eyes became downcast. He glanced out the window, gathering his thoughts.

“What do you know of uncle Madara’s family?” he asked.

Frowning, Sakura shook her head. “Almost nothing. I assumed he was an only child.” Especially given how he behaved, thought Sakura.

“Hn.” Sasuke’s lips firmed to a line. “I suppose he would be considered an only child, now,” he said quietly. “He was the oldest of five brothers. His is the true main branch of the family. His was the main branch, then it moved to someone else, then back to him again, though Itachi and I are sort of the de facto main branch as he has not had children… it’s complicated.”

“I thought you and your family were.”

Sasuke shook his head. “No, we… became the unofficial main branch.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

Sasuke huffed darkly. “I don’t have all the answers, but I know uncle Madara used to be a slightly different man. When I was younger, he and his closest brother, Izuna, were almost always together. They were fun uncles. Uncle Madara could be really serious, but uncle Izuna kept him in line and kept him human.” Sasuke took a breath before continuing. “Their other brothers had passed away before I was born. I don’t know all the details. No one speaks of what happened, or they didn’t around me. Maybe because I was still in kindergarten. So I knew there had been other uncles, just that they weren’t there anymore, and uncle Madara was very protective of uncle Izuna because of it. Of all the family.”

A sinking feeling spread through Sakura’s stomach.

“Everything my uncle does, he does to protect the family. He became a ruthless, scary man. Work became everything to him. We didn’t see him often, growing up. Except for Itachi. Everyone knew Itachi was a genius, and Madara made sure he was brought into the family business as soon as possible. I still don’t know everything Itachi does. He finished law school, but he rarely talks about being in court.” He pressed his lips together again. “Considering he works directly for my uncle, I don’t ask too many questions. But Itachi changed, too. He became very protective of the family, just like Madara. Madara’s best friend got through to him to change a little—again, I don’t know the details, only what I’ve heard in whispers—and that’s why he keeps up his side business, that studio. That was around when we were in middle school. Shisui has always been Itachi’s closest friend. But by the time I graduated university, Madara and Itachi were like the godfathers of the family. They would do anything to protect us. Madara isn’t afraid of making a big deal out of things; Itachi is much more subtle about how he goes about his work. It feels like I barely know him some days. He’s uncle’s right-hand man, in many ways. He protects us like his own life depends on it.”

His dark eyes fell upon Sakura.

“That includes you, too, now.”

Sakura didn’t know what to say.

Sasuke held his words a minute. It was rare for him to speak so much, least of all about his family, to her.

“It makes me wonder how things may have been different, if uncle Izuna was still around,” he said after a moment. His eyes flicked to hers for a moment. “Like with you and Itachi.”

“Nothing would have been different. Itachi and I loved each other well before we knew of each other’s status or states, Sasuke. I didn’t know what I was, or he was, until this past year. It was all kept from me,” she added, bitterness tingeing her words. She and Tsunade had not entirely reconciled, but she understood that her mentor had only done what she did to protect her.

“But you were drawn to each other before you knew each other, weren’t you? Neither of you could help it. High school was the worst because any time you would be here and Itachi would be back from university, neither of you could keep your eyes off each other. It was horrifying. And really uncomfortable.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s just hard to manage in a healthy way when there are too many alphas,” said Sasuke, searching for the right words. “If there were more, then things could have been dangerous for you.”

“Nothing like that is ever going to happen,” again, sighed Sakura. Sasuke could be so paranoid, sometimes. Internally, however, the truth of his words resonated. They had already witnessed what happened when alphas got out of line when it came to her presence. What boundaries they would cross. What they would do to her to bind her to them.

“No, you don’t understand,” challenged Sasuke, leaning forward in his seat. “I’ve heard rumours, Sakura. When a member of a destined triad isn’t there, the scales tip. Things become unbalanced. They can become violent, obsessive, possessive. It takes over their life like a curse. I’ve even heard that they’ve rejected their own children, the ones born from the triad, because they couldn’t handle seeing the reminder of the member they’d lost.”

Her breath caught in her throat at the thought of how that child would have been treated, how it would have scarred them.

“But the children were okay, right?” she asked, unable to keep the concern from her voice.

“I don’t know who it was. It happened during my generation but before I was born. He was abandoned by both his remaining parents after the triad failed. The adults talked about it, really late after they thought I’d gone to bed one night. I heard someone else had to raise him or her. That was the last I heard of any triads in the family. It was like that last curse broke the triad cycle, stopping any more from being forged.” He shook his head. “And then you showed up.”

“You’re doing a great job making me feel like I’m the problem.”

Sasuke pinched the bridge of his nose.

“That came out wrong. I mean that when you came along, it made the conditions favourable for another triad. It was you as a person who triggered the pieces to fall into place so a triad could be formed.”

“That’s pretty far out there, Sasuke. I thought Itachi and Madara already knew they were alphas, and everything that comes along with that,” said Sakura. “I’m sure there are other omegas out there, too.”

“Alphas, yes. We can’t seem to stop producing alphas of various grades. Omegas are out there, too, but none with the strength you possess. Itachi mentioned a few were ‘strongly encouraged’ to seek him out, and he hated it. I think he put his foot down and made it clear that no one was to parade their omegas around me, because outside a few I met in passing, like you, I was left alone. I could decide on my own what I wanted, instead of being told what I could do. Many people believe that alphas are the strong ones in a relationship and omegas are subservient or submissive. In a balanced triad, though, it’s the opposite. The omega is the one who sets the priorities. That’s what Shisui mentioned once, anyway, not that he and I have had many talks about this because I was happy to live without knowing all the details, because me knowing the details about my potential life meant I had to know the details of the private lives of my family members. But no one had held out hope of there being another triad in the family. ‘Til you,” said Sasuke.

Sakura heaved a heavy sigh. Nothing made sense. It was too convoluted and revolved around so many conditions upon conditions that sounded ludicrous to her. It was not as if this ‘triad’ compulsion was sentient, searching and claiming fated individuals on a whim, let alone trading them out when their members changed. She was a medical doctor and none of this made a lick of sense to her, let alone socio-economic or political. She had yet to find any reasonable medical explanation, in any scientific study or peer-reviewed journal, where the mating, knotting and replacement-semen prevented pregnancy. She ran her hands through her hair. Had this been a sick joke, a horrible mind game?

If even Sasuke was in on it, though, it became harder to dismiss. Sasuke was not one to accept the unreasonable.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because of what I think is inside this trunk. Uncle Madara didn’t want anyone to influence your decisions. He wanted you to read for yourself the first-hand accounts of our clan and our triads.”

“What’s in here? Medical files? Articles?”

Sasuke looked pointedly at the key in her lap.

Sakura closed her eyes, her head tipping back. So the key to knowledge was literal. It was her choice if, or how, she proceeded. Taking a deep breath, she knelt in front of the trunk.

With the heavy brass key in hand, Sakura unlocked the trunk and lifted the lid. Whatever she had been expecting, the tightly packed contents weren’t it.

“Books?” she murmured to herself, poking at a few here and there. Some were cloth- or leather-bound, others string-bound, some no more than loose papers wrapped in faded cloth or ribbon. “Old books?”

Coming to kneel beside her, Sasuke shook his head. “Journals.”
He picked one up and scanned the pages. “This one is from uncle Madara’s parents’ generation.”

Sakura picked up another, more recent-looking one. Her mouth went dry at the familiar scrawl on the page that stared back at her. She wasn’t ready to read that one, yet. She set it down and reached for another, opening the first pages, which usually had a date in the top corner.

“This one is from your parents’ generation,” said Sakura.

“Huh. I wonder if it’s from that broken triad,” said Sasuke. “It would have been around then.”

She was in the middle of shaking her head when her eyes caught a familiar name on the page. Then another. Then another. The shaking slowed as time ground to a halt for Sakura.

Her heart pounded in her chest as everything Sasuke had said that evening started clicking together. How he heard the rumours. Why he, a child, would have been aware of them. How he knew so much and yet had not been part of any planning, how now one had planned for a triad for him at least as far as he had claimed, in spite of him being an alpha from the main branch of the family.

Sakura swallowed to wet her throat.

“You never told me your parents were part of a triad,” said Sakura hollowly.

“My parents? They weren’t. I think Father was married before, though.”

Her fingers gripped the book in her hands so tightly that her knuckles bleached. She couldn’t tear her eyes from the page in front of her.

“Maybe he was… but this book says that your mom, dad and someone else by the name of Kagami were a triad.”
“That’s impossible. Uncle Kagami was Shisui’s dad, and he was from a branch family. He died before…”

Sakura looked at Sasuke as a sea of emotions swept across his expression. His long fingers gripped the trunk, his throat working as the implications sank in.

“Shisui never remembered his parents. He used to joke that he was passed around the family like a toy because everyone wanted to love him… ”

“I don’t think that’s why,” whispered Sakura. She looked at Sasuke, horror building in her eyes. “This curse… Could others have worried about catching it?”

The sunken look in Sasuke’s eyes as he met her gaze confirmed it.

“His parents, the broken triad… Does he know?” asked Sakura.

“I don’t think so,” said Sasuke. “He has never mentioned the triad or his parents, ever.”

“That’s why… That’s why he and Itachi are so close… He and Itachi are like Izuna and Madara,” said Sakura. “They’re brothers.” Sakura licked her lips and swallowed to wet her parched throat. Different events tumbled into place. Separate at first glance, but when combined, it formed a terrible picture. “Your parents’ triad wasn’t supposed to start a new branch, it was just a regular triad. When Kagami died, they became unbalanced. Itachi and Shisui, though, I think that they were meant to form a triad of their own.”

“But Shisui’s dad died, and then all uncle Madara’s brothers died, too.” Sasuke reached for the book, and Sakura shared it with him. They flipped forward a few pages. “Everything got out of whack.”

“Oh my god,” whispered Sakura, stopping on a particular page.

Sasuke’s breath caught.

“My father rejected Shisui because he reminded him so much of Kagami,” read Sasuke, haunted. He read another few passages on the next page. “Shisui is the child of the last triad.”

The ache in Sakura’s chest swelled until she struggled to breathe. For everything Shisui had done, all his mistakes, everything he cost her, in that moment she mourned him and everything he lost before they had ever met.

So many strange clues made sense now: Why he had run away after their first time together, the first time he had ever felt so completed, so happy, so relieved to be part of something so special.

Reverence. Had he treated her with reverence because he didn’t think he would ever feel loved, wondered Sakura. When they were together, a part of her had loved him in return. A part of her had wished he was the missing partner in their triad.

More pieces fell together. Why Itachi and Shisui were so close; why Shisui had held himself back initially at the cabin the day she and Itachi had sought him out; why he was afraid to be rejected, afraid to take too much; why Shisui had tried to claim her for himself afterward. Had he been mad with an affliction from the incomplete triad’s curse?

He had lost his father, he lost both his other parents, he lost out on being recognized as Itachi and Sasuke’s brother. He lost his family because of the curse that hounds broken triads. He had lost his own brother, Itachi, in a manner of speaking, too.

Twice.

“Sakura?”

Throat dry and tight, Sakura wiped at her eyes and found Sasuke’s emotions shuttered as he watched her. His hand tentatively reached out to her arm, squeezing it once.

“What happened?” asked Sasuke.

What could she tell him?

Because something else had reared its ugly head in her mind, after reading Mikoto’s journal. Mikoto, who had always been so welcoming of Sakura in their family home…

If the triad was originally supposed to be Itachi, Shisui and herself… and it had failed…

Where did that leave her and Itachi? Were they destined to be broken, too?

Unable to continue, Sakura dropped the book and pressed her face into Sasuke’s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her.

###

When Sasuke left that night, it was very late. Sakura had given him a very superficial explanation of what happened between her, Itachi and Shisui (“We tried. Physically. We examined what a triad would look like between the three of us. We thought it worked. Something went wrong. Itachi and Shisui had a fight. Itachi and Shisui haven’t reconciled.” “What about you and Shisui?” “Uh, yeah. About that. There’s a 99 percent chance Itachi will kill him if he comes near me again.”). He tried seven times to call Naruto for backup (emotional support had never been Sasuke’s strong suit), and each time Sakura ripped the phone from his hands.

“Don’t you dare bring more people into this mess! I am not fucking anyone else in your family or anyone else’s!”

“Too much detail. Way too much detail. Boundaries.”

“Oh, you want me to talk about boundaries? Remember that time when your brother and I were supposed to have our anniversary dinner and I found him at Madara’s studio—”

“I will pay you ten thousand dollars right now to never share a single detail of my brother’s sex life with me, ever again—”

“Pussy.”

Sasuke glared at her, nostrils flaring.

Triumphant, Sakura turned his phone off and set it on the coffee table with a clatter. Meanwhile, Sasuke rubbed at his eyes as he leaned back on the armchair, head plonked heavily on the headrest.

“I never should have agreed to help uncle Madara this afternoon.”

“Why did you?”

“He said he didn’t want to bother Itachi with it.”

Inhaling sharply, Sakura rested her fists on her hips and stared at the pile of journals they had been perusing over the course of the evening. Sakura paced for a few steps before turning back to Sasuke and all they had uncovered so far.

If it had been Itachi instead of Sasuke—

The thought sent a gut-punch to her stomach so strong that she unconsciously wrapped her arm around her middle and swayed on her feet. The night’s revelations would have been an unmitigated disaster if Itachi had been there instead of Sasuke.

“I agree with Madara on this one. I think that you were the best choice. Itachi would have been destroyed to learn this about Shisui and your parents. Anyone outside of you or Itachi would have gone looking for blackmail. Suggesting Shisui was right off the table. Itachi and Shisui may not be as close as they were, but to find out they were brothers and lost that connection, and were never able to officially recognize it would have hurt them both very much.” She gestured helplessly at the trunk. “And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

Which was the truth. She and Sasuke had read through the journals for hours, Sasuke occasionally explaining a tradition or relationship when the journals went back further than their generation. He was remarkably composed through the majority of it, which had helped her keep her head, too.

When he did not respond to her comments, she looked over at him.

Staring at the ceiling, Sasuke still listened thoughtfully, his fingers twitching beside him twice.

“What?” asked Sakura, noting the set of his lips. He always did that thing with his lips when he was considering speaking something that would cause a problem and was trying to choose the right words to prevent or reduce the inevitable backlash.

“Two things,” said Sasuke, weighing his words carefully. “One, Madara could have delivered this to you by courier. Instead he made sure that not only would you not be alone, but you would be with someone you and he trusted. Two.” He sighed. “He could have delivered these to you himself. He could have removed half the books in here and made a triad arrangement look like a dream, the best thing to ever happen to you. He could have manipulated you in a hundred different ways.” He shook his head and shrugged. “He didn’t. I don’t get it. It’s what he does. He could have done this differently and had you on his side within an hour. It’s not like him. I don’t know how to interpret it.”

“Itachi isn’t the only one who would like a second chance,” said Madara.

“I will never reconsider Shisui,” said Sakura, taking Madara’s hand.

Madara’s small smile was pleased and secretive as he held Sakura’s hand a moment longer than necessary.

“I had someone else in mind,” he murmured, leaning down and nuzzling the gland at her throat.

Sakura swallowed.

Was this Madara’s way of asking for a second chance? He had listened to her, that night in her home, when she had kicked him out. He was explaining why he was the way he was via the stories in the journals. He was showing her the reasons he was the man he was by sharing how a broken triad would affect not only them, but potentially children and their family and clan as a whole. They had waited a generation to find another strong, independent omega. Yet he would rather see her walk away than be trapped in an arrangement that would harm her or others.
He was helping her make her choice by providing her with every account he had to make an informed decision, even if it may mean he wouldn’t be part of her future.

He had also provided Sasuke the opportunity to learn more about his family. Sakura examined her long-time friend with new eyes. While he hadn’t reacted as dramatically as she had, he had learned many unfortunate truths about his clan, and his own immediate family, that night. How was he handling everything they had discovered?

“Hey, you okay?” asked Sakura, studying him carefully.

“Hn,” sighed Sasuke, leaning forward and reaching to pull another brown manila envelope from the trunk. “Yeah. I always considered Shisui Itachi’s unofficial brother anyway. My parents’ stuff happened before I was born. I’ll figure it out. Huh, this one looks newer,” he mumbled, opening the envelope. “Is it a file or something—JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!”

The folder and its contents went flying across the room, raining haphazardly down around them. Sasuke didn’t even wait for them to hit the floor before he leapt up, grabbed his jacket, and stormed for the door.

Instinctively Sakura had her hands up in front of her.

“Sasuke—what—”

“I hate this family sometimes,” muttered Sasuke darkly. “If you need anything else, ask Madara. I’m out.”

With that he slammed the door so hard Sakura jumped.

Panting and trembling at Sasuke’s sudden behaviour, Sakura pressed a palm to her chest to calm her racing heart. Sasuke hadn’t erupted around her like that in years.

“What the Hell…”
What could have possibly set Sasuke off like that? Had his father been married three times? Was there another secret love child? Was there a secret, arranged marriage? (There had been a worrying number of them through the ages, they found.)

She reached down to pick up the nearest paper, only to find it wasn’t a paper. Her eyes bulged comically at the photographs that had exploded around the room.

—The ones she hadn’t realized Madara had taken, that first night at the studio.

Her cheeks burned and her mouth formed a silent ‘oh’.

No wonder Sasuke had lost his shit. Sakura winced in sympathy. It was a great angle, but definitely not one her friend had probably ever wanted to see of her.

Perhaps she should send Sasuke a gift basket as an apology in a few days, once he had time to calm down and forget about seeing her stuffed full of Madara’s—Sakura swallowed the longer she looked at the picture, heat rising in her cheeks—mmmmm……

She held the picture another way—and bit her lip. She hadn’t considered how it would look from this angle, it was more impressive than she….

Hmmm…

Sakura cleared her throat to break the spell.

Very carefully, she gathered up all the pictures and set them on the coffee table… beside the phone Sasuke had forgotten to take with him.

The ridiculousness of the situation made Sakura groan. Closing her eyes, she made a mental note to include the phone with the gift basket she would send first thing in the morning.

###

That night, Sakura could not sleep a wink. Instead, she did paperwork.

The next day, Sakura called in to work and put in for a short term leave. It was nothing crazy, just a few weeks. It took her a good two hours to build up the courage to call Tsunade to explain that she needed to handle some personal matters, though, and ask for her support.

As if Tsunade couldn’t guess what those matters were.

Sakura wanted to bang her head against a wall.

But the leave was granted in record time, starting immediately.

Tsunade must have pulled strings in HR and the shift scheduler, possibly even taking on Sakura’s shifts herself, in order to approve a personal leave so quickly. Perhaps she did it to make up for the way she had manipulated Sakura in the past, with the teas, with Itachi, with Madara. Sakura didn’t know and didn’t want to press her luck by asking too many questions.

With the approval e-mail received in her inbox, for the first time in her life, Sakura focused on sorting out her personal life and all its many facets and impacts.

And she started with the earliest journals and worked her way forward to the present.

###

Within the first few hours of the next morning, Sakura had already started her own timeline and notes, questions to ask, and separately, biological impacts to assess. (The gift basket company confirmed delivery of the phone and basket to its intended recipient at noon.)

The books, some of them leatherbound with crackling spines and flaking pages, were hundreds of years old. She struggled to make sense of the handwriting and language every so often when the writer would change, but it got easier and easier as time went on. She also drafted a rough copy of the genealogy mentioned, to trace the pathway and patterns the triad phenomena created, and also any potentially related medical conditions. The triads were always formed by members of the Uchiha family. That couldn’t be good for the gene pool—and she had a theory it played into the negative effects that plagued the broken triads.

As she and Sasuke had learned the evening before, a tragic form of madness seemed to follow the broken unions. Conversely, even unions that were forcefully created and maintained were more productive and supportive of and within the clan, in a manner of speaking. It surprised her that the unhappy unions were more successful than the broken ones; as long as the unhappy unions were unbroken, they persevered, economically and healthy, at least.

It made her wonder about Itachi and Sasuke’s family life, and if they had been hiding something from her. Every single triad that had been reduced to a pair, or worse, a single individual in the case of two unfortunate generations, had been reduced to ruin.

The ones left behind fell victim to suicide.

The more she read, the more obvious it became within the first six months after a triad was reduced to one member that the last member succumbed to their anguish.

By the time Sakura made it to the nineteenth century, it was a certainty.

She read about triads who supported the clan in improving their arts, their business, their social standing, their trades, their quality of life. The nineteenth and twentieth centuries saw their rise in politics, law, judiciary roles and of course, the formation of the substantial Uchiha zaibatsu.

The journals did not simply document the triads’ relationships; it documented the rise (and occasional fall) of the Uchiha as a whole through history. It was a revelation to Sakura, especially considering how insular and private the clan was. Madara really hadn’t hidden any of their faults, flaws or fallacies from her. She read for days.

After a week, Sakura closed the last book prior to the most recent head of the clan penning his first diary. She bit her cheek and stared at the familiar scrawl of Madara’s penmanship. He had sent her his own journals. He was sharing his own private life with her.

Closing her eyes, Sakura swallowed. Would she have ever considered sharing her most private thoughts with him? Or even Itachi?

The level of trust it conveyed weighed heavy on her shoulders. That faith in her was what had made her decision to start at the beginning and move forward, instead of backward. That, and she honestly had not been emotionally ready to read what Madara may have thought of her, especially considering her early treatment of him.
She had listened to rumours from others’ mouths before meeting someone and deciding for herself. The warnings had come from Itachi and Tsunade, granted, people she trusted herself. But by following others’ judgement without having all the facts, she had mistreated someone severely. Even if Madara had come off the wrong way at the beginning, she could understand why he had behaved the way he had. He had met her while she’d been screwing his nephew on his prop couch; it didn’t exactly speak well of her, either. And in a way, after reading so many recounts of couples meeting each other and falling in love and lust, she understood now that she, Itachi and Madara had all been compromised that first night. They had all been under the influence of their base natures, their instincts, their urges. Every one of them. Not only that, but it kept happening because none of them had all the answers they needed, none of them had communicated well with each other. None of them had understood, really understood, what they were undertaking.

Gods, they were all a mess, weren’t they? She thought to herself with a rueful, guilty smile.

Stalling, she re-read one or two of the more interesting journals from the past before her wary curiosity drew back to Madara’s.

Bracing herself, she opened the first page of his oldest book.

TBC