NARUTO: MadaSaku - "Kimono no Onna" [Part Seventeen]
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yomi_gaeru as a gift for her after all the wonderful inspiration she has provided over the years![Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Part Eight] [Part Nine] [Part Ten] [Part Eleven] [Part Twelve] [Part Thirteen] [Part Fourteen] [Part Fifteen] [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen]
The next day, Tajima rubbed his lined face, the smudges beneath his eyes darker. The demands had been pouring in for days and he was drowning.
Bridge repairs.
Injuries.
Property damage.
Sanitation work setbacks.
Fires, some still burning.
The reports from the city kept pouring in, along with the requests for ‘support’ and ‘special consideration’ and ‘his generous contemplation’. It wasn’t the worst storm they had ever survived, but you would never know it going by the public’s demands for him to open his coffers for them. He had given 97 percent of his staff paid leave for the rest of the week in order to support them, and had already sent a considerable donation to the city to repair the main thoroughfares (bridges, roads, power and gas lines, routes to the hospitals) to promote the restoration efforts. He envied Kizashi in that moment; all Kizashi need concern himself with were his own family, his own staff, his own shop. And it made the man so happy. Then again, Kizashi had Mebuki, a natural-born force to rival any other.
In spite of himself, Tajima shook his head and chuckled under his breath. Perhaps he should hire Mebuki to help him deal with this mess… He doubted the city would bother him twice if she was the one handling matters. Anyone under her command knew how to run a tight ship. Their kimono shop’s thriving success under her guidance was testament to… that…
His hand stilled in its writing.
He sat taller in his chair.
***
A short time later, Sakura knocked politely on Lord Uchiha’s office door.
“Come in!”
With a small bow, Sakura entered the wood-panelled room. She wore another of his wife’s former kimonos, it’s wine-and-gold layers folded in a way to shorten the hem, her hair pinned back in a simple twist that flattered the pale column of her throat and brilliant gem-coloured eyes. Her hands folded in front of her, she inclined her head, perfectly poised.
“You called for me?”
“Ah,” said Lord Uchiha, inclining his head for her to sit. “I have a proposal for you, if you wouldn’t mind taking a short break from looking after the boys…”
***
Several hours later, Sakura nodded to herself with grim satisfaction. She sat at a small desk she and Keiko had dragged into a corner of Lord Uchiha’s office upon which several stacks of letters were currently neatly arranged. Each stack included a neatly detailed catalogue of its contents and suggested response or follow-up questions.
“Hm?” asked Lord Uchiha. He sat up when he noticed Sakura’s firm nod to herself. “Status?”
“Initial review complete,” replied Sakura. “Lord Uchiha,” she tacked on quickly, cheeks warming.
He swallowed his warm chuckle and forced himself not to appear too jovial. She had been perfectly pleasant company through the afternoon. “Well, let’s look at them.”
“These are the rejections. There’s no reason the Uchiha zaibatsu should have anything to do with these requests,” began Sakura. She handed Lord Uchiha the first, and largest, bundle, and when he nodded at her chair, she hesitated before pulling over her chair, sitting at his side. Then she explained her summary and more in-depth findings. Lord Uchiha nodded and they moved on to the “Further information required” pile, and finally the smallest, the “Suggested approval” pile.
After another hour or so the shadows stretched long through the office windows and Keiko came to knock on the door, informing them that supper would be served soon.
“You have a talent for organisation and prioritisation, Sakura-chan,” remarked Lord Uchiha as they stood.
Sakura tilted her head to the side. “Sir?”
“I agree with nearly every single recommendation you made,” he said, looking at the reports. He studied her a moment before nodding to himself. “You head to supper with the boys. I’m sure they’ve missed you this afternoon. I’ll be along shortly.”
Smoothing her furrowed brow, Sakura folded her hands together and nodded at Lord Uchiha.
“Don’t take too long, sir. They enjoy you joining them for meals…” hedged Sakura, biting her lip.
Softness relaxed his heavy features as his shoulders released their tension.
“Ah,” he agreed. He was not smiling exactly, but there was fondness in him.
With another quick nod, she took her leave to join the boys and Tajima leaned over his desk. After a moment of reflection he selected one of Sakura’s summaries, re-reading it. He considered and reconsidered it, and what it meant, for several long minutes. Sensing another’s focus, his dark, intelligent eyes flicked to the side.
“Did she pass?” asked Madara, standing in his office doorway.
He hadn’t heard his son approach but wasn’t surprised to find him there. He studied Madara’s calm confidence.
“What do you think?”
Madara took in the organised piles, the neatly written notes, and his father’s guarded countenance. He crossed his arms and arched a brow.
“I think you’re trying to estimate how much you would have to pay Kizashi and Mebuki to lure their daughter away from the kimono shop so you could hire her as your personal secretary,” said Madara, as if the answer was obvious.
Tajima’s eyes narrowed on his son, but Madara just bowed, smirking.
“Supper is ready,” said Madara casually, heading back to the living room where they’d been serving their meals.
Exhaling through his nose, Tajima looked down at the report before depositing it again on his desk, exactly where Sakura had put it.
***
Over the fruit course at supper, Tomo frowned at his father and crossed his arms.
“I don’t want to.”
“Tomo, it’s important to take baths. It keeps us safe and clean and smelling nice,” cajoled Sakura, smiling at him.
“But I want a bath like we read about in the English books! With the bubbles.”
Sakura bit her cheek. Hard.
Oh…
She tried not to stare at Lord Uchiha out of the corner of her eye. He probably did not, in that moment, appreciate her teaching the boys about the fancy baths that some of her family’s clients had lavished in when they still lived abroad.
“That isn’t how Japanese baths work,” interjected Madara firmly. “If you go to London, you can have a bubble bath there.”
“Did you have one?”
Say no, thought Sakura, desperately telegraphing the command at Madara.
“Of course. Almost every night.”
Sakura’s shoulders slumped and she closed her eyes as Tomo’s wail rose higher.
“Tomoyuki, that’s enough!” snapped Lord Uchiha, pinning his youngest son with a disappointed glare. “You’re too old to throw a tantrum.”
“How about we have a bath together,” suggested Shichi, patting Tomo’s back. “Koji, Izu-ni and Madara-ni can come, too. Like when we were little.”
Sakura cleared her throat and she tried to hide her grin behind her sleeve as Madara's eyes narrowed at his younger brother, two bits of heat warming his cheeks. His jaw clenched.
But the suggestion had quieted Tomo’s lament. He sniffed and looked at Izuna and Madara. “Would you? A big family bath?”
“Yes!” grinned Koji, wiggling in his seat. He looked hopefully at his father.
“No,” said Izuna.
“Of course,” said Madara when Tomo’s mouth opened wide to protest.
“And you could come, too, Haruno-dono! That way you aren’t lonely by yourself in your bath!” exclaimed an excited Tomo.
“I changed my mind,” said Izuna. “Ow!” He flinched and glared murderously at Madara who casually took another bite of imported mango.
“Haruno-dono will bathe by herself,” said Lord Uchiha, patting the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “She is a young lady, and young ladies bathe with other young ladies and female family members.”
—But the napkin didn’t hide the obvious mirth in his bright eyes.
Tomo pouted and threw himself back down into his seat again, crossing his arms huffily.
“It’s not fair,” he complained. “Haruno-dono should join us, too.”
“Can we bring our toy boats into the bath?” asked Shichi, looking up at his father.
“Please! I promise I won’t spill all the water and flood the floor again!” added Koji, pressing his palms together.
“If you do, you’ll be the one mopping it up with the towels and hanging them all to dry,” said Lord Uchiha, before he nodded. “Yes. Izuna, help me with the firewood and the stove, after supper. It will take a bit of time before we can heat that much water.”
Izuna nodded.
As Lord Uchiha called Keiko-san over and asked her to start filling the tub, Madara caught Sakura’s eye… and smirked. Then he winked his glinting eye and mouthed, “Later.”
Hmmmm…. Unsure what he meant, but looking forward to it, Sakura gave a subtle nod. He turned back to his fruit, a small, secret grin on his own lips.
She couldn’t help the tiny smile that pulled at the corners of her own, seeing him so happy and mischievous.
***
“Another few days?” asked Madara as they sat together that night, reading beside each other on a settee.
Izuna was helping prepare the big tub for bath time and the younger boys had gone to gather their toy boats. It left Sakura and Madara a few quiet moments together in the library. She wondered if Lord Uchiha had somehow arranged things this way on purpose…
Sakura nodded at Madara’s question.
“The usual bridge I cross was heavily damaged. I could take the long way around, but the roads are still being cleared. Your father said I could stay as long as necessary and that he had sent someone else to check alternate routes home for me and to inform my parents that we were well. He thinks it will be another few days before the telephone lines are up and running again.”
Madara leaned into Sakura’s side and lifted his arm for her to snuggle closer. She side-eyed him before blushing and scooching in. After a quick scope of the room—they were alone and undisturbed—he craned his neck up and brushed his lips against her cheek. “This storm wasn’t all bad, hn...”
Her responsive shiver emboldened him. He kissed the shell of her ear, nuzzling her throat, thrilling at the small catch in Sakura’s breathing when his teeth grazed her skin.
“Madara,” she whispered, her fingers clenching, one on her book, the other on his thigh.
“Hn?” He pressed a tiny kiss, just behind her ear, pulling her closer with the arm around her shoulders.
Instinctively she opened to him, softening in his arms.
“Your father…”
“Approves,” said Madara confidently.
“You can’t be sure… we should… should…” Her breathing feathered, her chest tightening as he turned into her and lifted his eyes to hers.
He squeezed her hand in his. His smirk was pleased and gentled at her hesitation. He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle.
“He. Approves,” he repeated, leaning his forehead against hers. He sighed softly against her, closing his eyes. “I promised him no bastard children before we’re married. He is fine with everything else.”
Sakura froze before an angry flush heated her cheeks. She yanked her hand from his and pulled back from him.
“Hn?” asked Madara, his eyes opening and his brow furrowed.
Her lips pressed tightly together, Sakura stared at him.
“It… it only happened once,” she whispered tersely. She swallowed, glancing away.
Madara blinked, trying to understand the change in her temperament.
“What is it?” he asked, confused.
She shook her head, wetness rising in her eyes.
Straightening quickly, Madara cupped her cheek so she faced him. “Sakura.”
“He hit you so hard he broke your jaw. You couldn’t speak, or eat, or…” She swallowed. “I am never risking you again, Madara. Never.” She shook her head. “You mean too much to me. I would rather walk away from you than be the reason you were hurt again.”
His shoulders relaxing, Madara’s eyes softened. He shook his head gently.
“That’s never happening,” he said, holding her gaze. “It would take death to rip me away from you.”
“Don’t say that!”
“Shhhhhhh,” he said, grasping her shoulders before pulling her into his arms. “Okay, okay, I won’t. It’s alright.”
“Swear to me, Madara. No matter what. Protect yourself. I can handle anything but losing you like that again. Move across the world back to London or even Paris if you have to, but—”
“Sakura,” said Madara firmly, lowering his chin to glare at her.
“Promise me you will protect yourself,” she demanded, fire in her emerald eyes.
His chest rising and falling with his harsh exhale, Madara refused to back down. They stared at each other a long, tense minute before Madara’s shoulders sank. He didn’t want a fight. He never wanted to fight with her, unless it was in teasing, like they had in his room. The cuddling after had been more than worth that. So he considered her request, turning it over in his mind like a delicate piece of origami, examining where it could fold, and where it could cut. It would take a lot to cut someone with the edge of a piece of paper, but it wasn’t entirely impossible. But to do so would require either an accident of the highest order or deliberate, malicious intention. Which meant her request wasn’t entirely unreasonable. It was just ridiculous; what could ever hurt him, the scion of the Uchiha zaibatsu? Even scandal couldn’t touch him, not with his family’s power, money, and influence. His father’s words echoed in his ear, though.
“Then you promise, too,” he said.
“Promise what?”
His thumb caressed the apple of her pink, perfect cheek. His smile was unconscious.
“Promise me that you will protect yourself, too.”
She frowned and tried to pull away but he refused to let her go.
“Promise,” he repeated.
“Madara,” she sighed. “There’s nothing that could harm me.”
His eyes hardened. “Hn?”
Yes there was. Everything could hurt her. Walking to or from his home, being too close to a carriage, a foreigner taking too close an interest in her... A cupboard of kimono at her shop could collapse on her. She could fall from a ladder. Did she have no idea how many thousands of ways he worried about her safety?
His face must have revealed how deeply he feared for her, for Sakura sighed fondly and finally dipped her forehead to his again. She ran a hand through his thick, wild hair, teasing it until his love-flooded eyes met hers again.
“Madara, you would never let anything happen to me,” she said, as if his question was utterly moronic.
Hn.
Actually, that part was… fair. Except for her walking. And the kimono shop. And…
But her unconditional trust in him swelled his heart with pride. She was right, he would. He would do anything to protect her.
Then, the vixen, she kissed his nose and his mind blanked.
“So we both promise,” said Sakura.
“Hn?” What?
She leaned back against the couch, taking his hand again and kissing his knuckles, this time.
“Can we read? Please?”
“Yes,” said Madara. Already a different plan was forming in his mind, but he needed… hn… something else first.
“Your book?” Sakura nudged him with her elbow.
“Hn.”
… He needed to speak with his father.