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

Apr. 29th, 2023 06:47 pm
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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 || Part Eleven || Part Twelve || Part Thirteen || 

#

Tobirama balked as he stepped into his home from the elevator.
“Hey! You’re home!”
“Who are you?” asked Tobirama evenly, his cool eyes piercing the apron-wrapped stranger who greeted him.
“Oh, I’m Sakura’s friend, Naruto. She asked me to house-sit for you until you got back. I hope you like cookies, I just put a whole bunch in the oven!”
Staring perplexedly at the cheerfully humming blond, Tobirama paused before pulling out his phone.
“Oh, there’s something for you in your music room!” called Naruto from the kitchen.
Setting down his various luggage, Tobirama hesitantly approached the conservatory.
 
#

“What is it this time?” asked Sakura as their limo inched forward through the hoards of reporters at their home airport.
“Kakashi thinks it’s your cover of that mystery song,” read Tsunade from her phone. She glowered at Ino. “What did you do?”
“It wasn’t me!” snapped Ino, crossing her arms. She bit her lip. “There was a security guard who was paying Sakura more attention, though… I thought she was just angling for her autograph. How much got out?”
“Kakashi said just the last few lines,” said Tsunade.
Sakura casually checked her phone but there were no new messages.

#

“You and Sakura, huh?” remarked Naruto, chewing a chocolate chip cookie. Still wearing his apron, he joined Tobirama on his couch while they shared tea and—surprisingly chewy, delicious—cookies.
Tobirama coughed as his swallow of tea went down the wrong pipe. “Did she say that?” 
“Her Inner-self has been a whole lot more active since you two started your… thing…” said Naruto, his tone erring into caution. Like he was afraid he was about to get in big trouble.
“What thing?”
“Nothing,” said Naruto, stuffing seven cookies in his mouth. “More tea?” The blond escaped to the kitchen.

#

Tobirama chewed his cookie slowly. Not just because it was good, which it was, and he would maybe ask Naruto for the recipe, later. But because he kept turning matters over in his head.
How… how could he thank her. For rescuing him from the paps at the mall. For finding him after the break-in. For tracking down and returning his guitars. For getting him a house-sitter who made incredible cookies…
His neck warmed, remembering he had, in a way, given her a key to his place. But that was… different.
Flowers didn’t seem like enough.
Maybe… words?

#

Grabbing the notebook and pens he always carried with him, ever since Sakura gave them to him in the hospital, Tobirama flipped pages until he found a blank one. There were so few left. He’d composed Send You’s greatest hits in its cherished pages. His tongue tied behind his lips, the blood in him tingling, like it had so long ago. There was so much he wanted to say but his desire and fear battled inside him. Could he? Should he? 
… Dare he? 
Yes. 
His eyes bright, Tobirama began writing.
Half-forgotten, Naruto quietly set more cookies within Tobirama’s reach.

#

“This, this is uh, Tobirama’s phone. He’s busy right now, can I take a message?”
Hashirama stared at his mobile, brow furrowed. 
“Who’s this?” 
“I’m Naruto! How are you doing?”
Wrinkling his nose, Hashirama shook his head. “Good… could you please pass me to my brother?”
“He’s busy and asked not to be disturbed. He’s writing.”
Oh, well, that explained it. Hashirama sighed.
“OK. Thank you, Naruto. Does he need anything? He forgets himself sometimes when it comes to his music.”
“No, Sakura gave me a list and I stocked his fridge. Thanks, though! Bye!”
“She did? What?” mumbled Hashirama.

#

“You can text him first,” pointed out Ino, painting Sakura’s nails.
“Naruto will call if he needs anything.”
“Mmm-hmmm.”
“He is an awesome house-sitter. He even printed up all your plant-notes last time and laminated them so he would keep them in tip-top shape. I just hope he didn’t bake those cookies. I’ll never get him back from Tobirama if he started stress-baking…”
“And the guitars?”
“Naruto said they arrived and he polished each one to better-than-new condition. Knowing him, he did.”
“So are you going to relax?”
Sakura tensed. “I’m relaxed.”
“Hmmm…”

#

“More cookies!” shouted Tobirama from his recording studio, four days later.
His steps slow and even in the face of the red-eyed demon, Naruto shakily offered a plate. “M-maybe we should try some fruit slices? Or water? How about a nice egg sandwi—”
“Cookies,” seethed Tobirama. But he stole the bowl of grapes and the sandwich from Naruto’s hands. “And water.”
“Coming right up!”
Diving back into his music, Tobirama annotated his previous annotation and experimented with mixing the second and third tracks while—
From the doorway, Naruto watched Tobirama’s graceful, precise movements.
“You got this,” smiled Naruto.

#

N: He’s eating and drinking; he even took a nap for a few hours, yesterday.
H: Thank you, I appreciate the updates. Oh, your better half asked when you were escaping.
N: LOL, I’ll call him again tonight. He’s a little territorial. Sorry.
H: It was adorable when Madara brought it up. I think Sasuke is sulking.
N: Don’t tell Sasuke Madara said that. (I wanna be there to see Sasuke’s face, LOL)
H: Hahaha noted! How’s Sakura btw?
Naruto glanced at Ino’s texts and grinned.
N: She’s being stubborn. But she wouldn’t have called me if she didn’t care.

#

Stop being awkward, Sakura coached herself. Neither of you needs to be in trouble for you to reach out to the other. You can be friends without drama.
Still. Would he think she overstepped, resetting his home security and setting him up with a housekeeper-slash-Tobi-keeper?
Nibbling the inside of her cheek, she stared at the empty text message she’d been trying to write for the last… 
She groaned. 
DAYS. 
DAYS OF BEING A COWARD.
Why couldn’t he just call her first?
Groaning, Sakura banged her head on the wall.
“Stop it. You’ll ruin your makeup,” chastised Tsunade.

#

“She’ll find her way,” said Madara. The lines carved in his face were deeper than a decade ago, the bags beneath his eyes more obvious, yet his handsome features turned faces wherever he travelled. Being the highly recognizable, lead singer for You Cheat, he had seen the globe thrice over. His hand dragged through his wild hair and his features softened. “She’s tough.”
“She has to be, to keep Tobi in line,” agreed Hashirama, amusement lighting his warm brown eyes. 
Madara smirked. That was Sakura.
“The kids are okay,” said Hashirama, sitting opposite Madara in the latter’s living room.
“Ah.”

 
#
TBC

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

 

TobiSaku - The Lost Ones - Tobi and Sakura, night time, sitting in back of car with city lights glowing behind them; Sakura's head rests on Tobi's shoulder.

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

Apr. 29th, 2023 12:36 am
moor: picrew avatar by karameruya (Default)
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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 || Part Eleven || Part Twelve ||

#

Tobirama fumed in the limousine days later. “Stop it.”
“You’ve been staring out the window for over an hour,” said Hashirama, still holding up his phone.  “There’s nothing to see.”
Tobirama hadn’t been looking at anything. Satellite radio played the latest hits and Tobirama had been trying to lose himself for a while, without success. “I’m tired.”
Hashirama kept recording. “I meant to ask, when did you start playing the—”
Suddenly, Tobirama bolted upright and Hashirama froze.
From the radio, familiar tendrils of guitar… Tobirama’s heart panicked.
 
Let me be your dragon
I’ll help you burn them to the ground…

#

Let me be your dragon
I’ll help you…
 
“Sakura!” shouted Ino, grabbing her as Sakura’s legs folded under her.
 
Let me be the one
To praise your burning sun.
Please let me be the one
To taste your bittersweet tongue.
Let me be,
Let me be the one.

They forged you into their shield
And made you take their fall

I’ll be the sword you wield
I’ll cut them through, and all
I ask in return
Is that you take a minute,
Just a minute,
To breathe, and love, my love,
Love yourself most of all
 
Sakura knew that voice. 

#

Hashirama’s forehead was lined as he shook his younger brother.
“Tobirama… Tobi…”
Trembling, Tobirama stared unseeing at the limousine speaker. 
How… How had that song been found… 
The thieves, he remembered with a crash of fury. The muscles in his jaw and fists tightened painfully.
The radio host broke back into the stream:
“Well folks, send us your best bets! The anonymous singer may be revealed if you sign up for our latest subscription service!”
A murderous growl rose in the back of Tobirama’s throat. Hashirama paled, leaning away.
“Kakashi,” snapped Tobirama into his phone. “I know who broke in.”

#

If there was one thing the entertainment industry excelled at, it was persecuting those who stood to profit from their efforts; or, in this case, Tobirama’s. The satellite station went silent within minutes of Tobirama’s call to Kakashi. Industry lawyers were wolves. 
Unfortunately, while they’d been able to track down the thieves, they had not been able to prevent the release of the song. It circulated on the internet and fueled hot gossip on all the entertainment sites.
“They’re comparing it to Sakura’s “Thank you, my friend”,” explained Kakashi. “The media is treating it like a duet from different perspectives.”

#

Tobirama kept flipping his phone in his hand as he paced his hotel room. His tongue traced the inner seam of his thin-pressed lips. 
Maybe she hadn’t heard it.
Maybe she wouldn’t put it together it was him.
Maybe she would laugh it off—
He choked. No, that option squeezed in his chest.
Hashirama knocked on Tobirama’s door and let himself in. He stared at Tobirama’s run-through hair and red-rimmed eyes, his lined expression and restless gait. 
Leaning against the wall, Hashirama’s expression softened. “They cut it. It’ll cool off,” he counseled.
It didn’t make it better.

#

“You’re sure you’re up for this?” asked Ino, a week later in a distant city.
Nodding at Ino’s question, Sakura smiled at the music video shooting crew as they made their way to the area designated for Sakura’s wardrobe changes. “I was just surprised. The singer had a unique voice.”
“You’ve had the song on repeat ever since.”
“No, I haven’t. It’s just on a playlist.”
“A playlist of one song.”
Sakura’s nose wrinkled as she frowned at Ino. Ino smirked.
Filming the shoot, Sakura drifted from one ‘room’ to another on set, consumed with her longing.
The music helped.

#

“We’re so grateful you could make it,” gushed the streamer. 
“We’re excited to be here. We called as soon as we found out we could make the timing work,” said Tsunade, escorting Sakura and Ino through the ‘studio’… of sorts. It was a renovated church-turned-home, but the acoustics were incredible. “This is an unusual and lovely setup. Did you design it?”
As Tsunade and the streamer got to know each other, Sakura poked around the studio space. Dozens of instruments popped out at her, hidden here and there among jumbles of clothes and trunks and—
Emerald eyes narrowed.

#

Tsunade sighed and rubbed her head as the police stormed the studio.
“You couldn’t have waited until after the interview?”
“Like fuck that ‘streamer’ is getting anything from me,” seethed Sakura, arms crossed as she supervised the seizure of the streamer’s priceless instrument collection. She snorted. ‘Priceless’ her ass. She knew exactly how much some of those instruments cost. She knew exactly where they’d come from. In fact, she had personally played several of them… in Tobirama’s conservatory.
“Mother fucker’s going to get what’s coming to him,” muttered Sakura under her breath, tapping her foot. “Fuck him up, my boys!”

#

Tobirama groaned and poked his head out from under his covers. He couldn’t remember what city or hotel he was in but it was dark which meant he was supposed to be sleeping, not groping around on his night table for his phone. But he knew that text message ring tone anywhere. 
“S’k’ra?” he mumbled, his eyes straining at the too-bright screen.
S: This is Ino, using Sakura’s phone. She’s talking to the cops. 
Panicking, Tobirama jolted upright in bed.
S: Don’t worry, she’s fine. She’s sending you a surprise. It’ll be waiting for you when you get home.

#

“You done checking your makeup?” asked Sakura, returning to Ino’s side.
“Yeah, thanks,” said Ino. She handed Sakura back her phone, immediate messages recently erased. “Things sorted out here?”
“They processed Tobirama’s guitars, they’re being shipped back to his place and the house-sitter I arranged is already waiting for them. Also, the new security system is fully installed and operational.”
“I don’t think Tobirama meant for you to make yourself that at home at his place.”
“Someone has to make sure he’s safe—I mean, that no one tries to break in again.”
Ino tried not to smile. Really.

#

The filming for the music videos was wrapping up in the final destination. The same beach she and Tobirama had argued on years before, when she and Madara had filmed the sequel to their first movie together. Sakura smiled to herself wistfully as the wind blew her hair around her face. So much had happened, it felt like a lifetime ago. Then she heard familiar voices arguing nearby.
“—told you, I want to go home.”
“Hahaha! Someone’s eager! What’s got into you?”
A car door slammed, but Sakura was already running, ignoring the people around her.
No, you’re so close—!

#

“Wait!” Sakura shouted.
But the lump in her throat swelled and salt wet Sakura’s cheeks as the limousine drove away. She would never catch it. Her breathing hitched as she tried to inhale and calm herself, but the tears wouldn’t stop. Ino caught up to her and sank to her knees in the sand, pulling Sakura into her for a hug. Sakura hadn’t even noticed she’d fallen.
“He was right there,” heaved Sakura, gesturing weakly in the direction of the disappearing car. “Right there.”
“Shhhhh,” shushed Ino, rocking Sakura against her. “Come on. Just another day or so.”
“It hurts…”

#

“… She needs more time at home…”
“… Keep it together until we get there, then…”
Sakura sighed as Ino and Tsunade whispered in the elite airport lounge behind her. She was embarrassed by her meltdown in the sand, but at least everyone on set had been super nice to her after. A mountain of chocolate and wine had shown up in her ‘trailer’. She reached into her purse and pulled out another bag of M&Ms, shoving a handful in her mouth. Fuck her stupid diet.
She glanced around and noticed a familiar shape in the far corner. 
Here? 
Now?
“Hello…”

#

The glossy finish was smooth beneath the fingers Sakura trailed over the graceful lines of the baby grand piano. Likely for jazz. Biting her lip, she traced several keys before playing softly. Her heart soared. It was tuned!
Ignoring everything around her, Sakura hopped onto the bench and tested her reach, adjusting it automatically to suit her. Then she hopped in place, unsure what to play. A lilting Schubert lullaby? She giggled as she played bits and pieces of Madara’s songs, changing the key for fun.
But then her voice rose, her fingers following along…
 
Let me be your dragon…

#

I’ll be the sword you wield
I’ll cut them through, and all
I ask in return
Is that you take a minute,
Just a minute,
To breathe, and love, my love,
Love yourself most of all
 
Tobirama’s breath stilled. 
It couldn’t be…
 
“Well folks, if there was ever a cover that sounded as eerily beautiful as its original, Sakura’s done it!” crowed the radio host. “We only have this snippet, but if anyone has more, share the link in our chatroom! Coming up next, You Cheat’s latest single, “Cry in the Morning, You’re Mine Tonight”!”
 
Unbeknownst to him, Tobirama smiled.
 
#
TBC

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

 

TobiSaku - The Lost Ones - Tobi and Sakura, night time, sitting in back of car with city lights glowing behind them; Sakura's head rests on Tobi's shoulder.

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

Apr. 29th, 2023 12:23 am
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Prompt: Fake Dating
Rating: T, maybe M later
Squicks: Misunderstandings, loss of family, misunderstood intimacy

Incoming message from S.Haruno with URL. 
Tobirama’s brow arched at Sakura’s text.
T: What’s this?
S: Something for you.
T: What is it?
S: A surprise.
T: …?
S: It’s a link to it.
T: I don’t open links from strangers.
S: Stop being an ass and listen to it.
T: Why?
S: Because I wrote it for you.
Tobirama’s heart skipped. He glanced at the rest of the band, still setting up their instruments for rehearsal. He had time. He plugged his headphones into his phone. 
“Tobi?” called Hashi a while later. “You okay?”
… No, Tobirama realised, swallowing. He wasn’t.



#





Sakura recorded her song in a single, raw take. They released it that night without any polishing, flare, or adjustments, per Sakura’s adamant instructions, to all streaming and radio stations. There was no hype, nor any promotion. There was no music video, streaming cover image or even any announcement beyond Sakura’s own personal dedication on her social sites.
“Thank you, my friend.”
The song exploded overnight. Celebrity gossip site writers theorized feverishly over who she was thanking and why. Every streaming and entertainment site went feral in their attempts to reach Sakura and Tsunade. Sakura glowed under Tsunade’s observant gaze.

#

Several days later, Hashirama carried takeout to Tobirama’s home and let himself in. 
“Tobi! I brought supper!” he hollered cheerfully, striding through the main living area. “Where are you? Are you still working?”
The corridors were silent, however. Frowning and looking around him, Hashirama set the food on Tobirama’s kitchen counter and hung his jacket on the back of a bar stool. Funny. Tobirama was usually home at this time, composing. But he wasn’t in his recording studio…
When he finally found his younger brother, Hashirama slowed to an awed stop in front of the conservatory, his chestnut eyes welling.



#

Feeling eyes on him, Tobirama’s fingers stilled on the grand piano’s keys. For a moment his heart raced and he wondered if Sakura had somehow come to surprise him in person. His excitement waned as he found his elder brother sniffling outside the door of the soundproof conservatory. 
“I thought you didn’t—”
“I don’t,” interrupted Tobirama, closing the door behind him. 
Hashirama blinked slowly, the emotion fading from his expression. “Ah,” he said quietly. “I brought dinner.”
“I thought we were going out?”
“You hate going out.”
“Since when has that…” Tobirama glared. “We were supposed to have six months.”



#

T: You free?
S: Sort of. Going out in an hour. What’s up?
T: Can I come by?
Sakura’s eyes warmed and she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. 
S: Sure. Everything OK?
T: Just found out that we’re heading out on tour for the next few weeks.
S: I thought you were recording again soon?
T: Me too.
Sakura’s shoulders slumped in sympathy.
S: C’mon over. I’ll let security know you’re coming. The password is ‘speakfriend’.
T: LOTR?
S: Surprised?
T: No. We should marathon it sometime.
S: Hell yeah!
“Your cheeks are burning, Sak,” teased Ino, grinning.

#

Tobirama could only stay for a few minutes. Neither of them needed any more rumours sprouting.
“A garage door opener?”
In his worn gray hoodie and jeans, his telltale hair covered by a cap, Tobirama nodded in Sakura’s front hallway. “The security code is written on the back.”
“But…” Sakura looked up at him, not understanding.
Refusing to fidget, Tobirama studied her. She looked healthier and he finally relaxed. 
“The label sprang the tour on us, to promote some new up-and-comer. It may be a while.” Then he tapped the remote. “… So you can play while I’m away.”

#

The next day in Tsunade’s office, Sakura scooched her chair up to her manager’s desk. “New project?”
Tsunade nodded. “It would get you some press without taking up too much of your time while building anticipation for your new album to land.”
“What kind of project?”
“A series of music videos.”
Sakura’s forehead wrinkled. “I haven’t finished the songs yet.”
Tsunade shook her head. “Not for your album. For someone else’s. The theme is looking for someone you’ve loved since before you met them, but always missing them by a chance moment.”
“That sounds lonely,” murmured Sakura.
“Yes,” agreed Tsunade.

#

“What do you mean, you can’t tell me whose album?”
“I only have the barest information; it’s a very hush-hush project,” explained Tsunade, studying Sakura. “You may not even meet your counterpart. It depends on everyone’s schedules.”
Sakura sighed and leaned back. Well, that was the story of her life. “Do I know them? Is it a he or a she?”
“I don’t have all the answers.”
Sakura folded her arms in front of her and tilted her head back and forth. Might be fun, she mused, considering it. “What do you mean ‘counterpart’?”
“The one searching for you.”



#

At midnight, Tobirama’s rear emergency exit door sprung open with a heave and a crack of a crowbar, the security system blaring overhead.
“Over here,” called one gloved man, his ski mask firmly in place. “Hurry!”
“You said the security system was down!”
“Shut up and help me get into the music room. My guy on the inside said he’s insured for millions in that room alone.”
In the distance, sirens began wailing.
“Fuck, hurry, hurry,” called another guy. “They’ll be here in a few minutes!”
“Go see if there’s anything we can grab from his studio!”
Unfortunately, there was.

#

The officers scrambled out of the way when Tobirama stormed through the police tape and arrived on the scene.
“Sir, I’m Constable—”
Tobirama’s hard jawline and glare silenced the officer’s introduction.
“How did they get in?” demanded Tobirama quietly.
“The rear entrance. Their trail leads straight up to this floor,” explained the Constable weakly. “It looks like they already knew the layout of your home.”
“Inside job,” seethed Tobirama, proceeding to his conservatory. As he’d expected, the clumsily hacked door frame was splintered, but only a handful of instruments, the ones closest to the door, were missing. Nothing irreplaceable.
—yet.



#

Later that afternoon, as the remaining crime scene officers finished processing his home, a series of surprised shouts went up and a familiar voice called, “Tobi!”
Tobirama whirled around and stood, his mouth falling open as Sakura raced towards him.
“I just heard, are you alright?”
Staring at her, Tobirama forgot how to speak.
Sakura’s expression dipped and she grabbed his arm. “Hey. Are you… Do you want to grab a coffee?” she asked, biting her lip and spying the officers who stared at the pair of celebrities.
He needed to get out. He needed to breathe.
“Ah, let’s go.”

#

“Did they get the vihuela?”
Tobirama’s shoulders relaxed and his expression softened. “No. Just a few guitars that were close to the door. They were all less than a dozen years old.”
“So, expensive but not heart-attack inducing?”
He exhaled ruefully. “Yeah.”
Sakura played with her cup a moment before cautiously reaching for his hand. “Did they get… the grand?”
His heart had stopped when he’d seen the initial destruction in the conservatory. His heart had then jumped to his throat as he approached the still-open Steinway piano.
He squeezed her fingers, smiling softly. “They didn’t touch it.”

#

“Shit, did he have cameras? The guy didn’t mention cameras!”
“He did, but we all kept our masks on and nobody said any names,” argued the leader of the thieves. He huffed, kicking the trunk of guitars they’d smuggled out. “Like this was worth it. They’re all new!”
“They’re still fucking expensive! That one has twice as many strings! And that one has two necks!”
“Which makes them highly identifiable, you nimrod, unless we sand off the numbers inside! We can’t fence these anywhere! Did anyone get anything else? Watches? Money?”
The calmest of their group lifted his phone. “Me.”



 





#
TBC

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

 

TobiSaku - The Lost Ones - Tobi and Sakura, night time, sitting in back of car with city lights glowing behind them; Sakura's head rests on Tobi's shoulder.

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

Apr. 18th, 2023 03:31 pm
moor: picrew avatar by karameruya (Default)
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Prompt: Fake Dating
Rating: T, maybe M later
Squicks: Misunderstandings, loss of family, misunderstood intimacy

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 [personal profile] lateroofnights  !!!! 

 

TobiSaku - The Lost Ones - Tobi and Sakura, night time, sitting in back of car with city lights glowing behind them; Sakura's head rests on Tobi's shoulder.

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

Apr. 13th, 2023 05:26 pm
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Prompt: Fake Dating
Rating: T, maybe M later
Squicks: Misunderstandings, loss of family, misunderstood intimacy

Curiosity got the better of Tobirama, several days later, as he scrolled through a website on his phone in between recording takes. His brow furrowed as he flipped between several pages of information.
Tobirama jumped when Hashirama leaned over his shoulder and asked, “Looking to trade in the Pilot?”
“No,” said Tobi, pocketing his phone. “Back to work.”
Hashirama nodded and herded the rest of the band back to the studio.
Tobirama focused on his hand-written notes as the band tuned up for the next set.
It was funny, though, though Hashirama; he hadn’t known Tobirama appreciated vintage cars.

#

“Stop touching everything,” sighed Tobirama a few months later.
Hashirama looked up from the sound board outside the smaller of Tobirama’s personal recording studios in his converted warehouse-home. 
“I’ll be done in a few minutes. I need to pack up the—stop that.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
Tobi frowned at his elder brother, narrowing his eyes. “Get away from the mixing panel. You’ll break it.”
“I was just looking—”
“Look with your eyes, not with your hands,” snapped Tobi, pushing Hashirama away from the rig. “It’s expensive.”
“Why do so many of the buttons flash—?”
“I said stop it!”

#

Tsunade’s voice echoed and faded in Sakura’s head. Then it repeated, louder than the ambient rumble of the aircraft’s engine.
“Sakura… wake up… You have an interview in an hour…”
“Five more minutes,” mumbled Sakura, yawning and turning onto her side—or trying to—but failing when the seatbelt restrained her. She groaned under her breath, lifting the edge of her face mask and scowling.
“We’ll be landing soon,” said Tsunade, glancing at Sakura before checking her tablet. “Go wash and freshen up your makeup.”
Sakura accepted the travel cosmetic pouch Tsunade shoved at her and stumbled to the washroom.

#

Backstage, Tsunade stared at Sakura with hard eyes, examining the dark smudges beneath her normally brilliant emerald orbs where Sakura dabbed on concealer, the pale hollows of her cheeks where Sakura blended in her contouring to fake a rosy, healthy glow.
“I’m fine,” said Sakura, evenly applying her eyeliner. Her eyes popped as she brushed on mascara.
“Madara and Hashirama have both been busy,” remarked Tsunade aloud, folding her arms across her ample bosom. “Who’s been checking in on you?”
“Ino.”
Tsunade’s brow dipped with her frown.
“I’m fine,” repeated Sakura, snapping the cap on her lipstick.
She lied beautifully.

#

“Welcome everyone… Sakura!”
The crowd roared as Sakura strutted on stage and waved enthusiastically at them.
“Hi!” she called, blowing them kisses. “I missed you, too!”
Security had been beefed up for Sakura’s visit to the popular entertainment show, but even their ranks strained to contain the wild fans. Their bulging arms stretched to support the transparent partitions that separated the audience from their hosts.
“Just keep walking,” calmly instructed the stage coordinator in Sakura’s ear piece. “You’re fine.”
Sakura hugged the hosts, took her seat, and smiled widely before winking at the crowd.
—then the partitions crumbled.
“Shit, run.”

#
Tobirama and Hashirama paused as a stampede crashed several studios away, screaming and yelling rising.
“Oh wow, we must have someone popular over there!” joked one of the late show hosts as they rehearsed that night’s set together, checking lighting, sound equipment, placement and more. “We don’t have many visitors who would bring the house down like that.”
“Is everyone alright?” asked Hashirama, turning to the growing noise.
Unease curled through Tobirama’s veins.
“Oh it’s fine, security’s there,” assured the other host. “I think they said Sakura was coming in today for a—”
The yelling escalated to screams.
Tobirama sprinted.

#

Tobirama and Hashirama skidded to a stop as they encountered the mad sea of fans, outpouring of security, and overall chaos that had levelled part of the studio’s set. Footage of Sakura continued to play on the overhead monitors flanking the stage but the sound system was disengaged from the video and instead a firm voice ordered the audience to back away from the stage for first responders to pass through and assess the scene.
A harried man wearing a headset to their left vehemently shook his head as Tsunade shook him physically.
“—I don’t know! She disappeared!” he cried.

#

“This way,” urged a stage hand, grabbing Sakura’s elbow and rushing her through an employee-only door that blended into the set. 
“But—Tsunade—”
“She’ll meet you downstairs!”
As Sakura’s heels were not designed for urban combat, she took the employee stairs as fast as she safely could. Her light-headedness tightened her chest and her vision swam but she pressed on. She could rest once they reached the limo’s safety. The stairway darkened as they reached the underground parking level, turning several corridors. 
“It’s a maze,” gasped Sakura.
Her rescuer’s pace slowed and he blocked her.
“You don’t say…”

#

“What’s her number?” demanded Tobirama, pulling out his phone. Hashirama recited it from memory and they raced out of the studio. “Hello, Building Ten? Sakura was abducted. Seal all exits and summon the police immediately. She is presumed to be in physical danger…”
“Which way?” muttered Hashirama to himself as they approached the elevators.
“They would try to leave with her,” said Tobirama. “You take the elevator, I’ll take the stairs, we’ll meet in the parking garage.”
Hashirama nodded, jumping into the carriage when the doors dinged open. Tobirama cursed the ‘hidden stairwell’ architecture and searched for the emergency exit.

#

“Let go of me!”
“Shut up and stop fighting!”
“Fuck you!”
“It won’t be long, once they pay up, just—ow!”
“Asshole! Let me go!”
“Look you bitch, you better come peacefully or else—!”
Sakura screamed long, and loud, and hard—and then head-butted her assailant with the power of professional wrestler on steroids. Then she scraped down his insole with her heels and elbowed him before throwing him over her shoulder and knee-dropping onto his chest, crushing several ribs. Her nails tore at his face and throat, screaming through her rage.
“Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!”
#

The screams resonated through the stairwell, chilling the blood in Tobirama’s veins. He leapt down the stairs three at a time before smashing through the basement door and flying down the corridor, following Sakura’s terrible voice.
“Sakura,” he gasped, grabbing her around the middle and dragging her off her unconscious abductor. “Easy, it’s me, it’s Tobirama.”
Trembling fiercely in his arms, she hiccuped, tears and makeup streaming down her swollen face. 
“T-Tobi?” she coughed, swaying on her feet.
He nodded, gently cupping her shoulders; and caught her as her knees gave out.
“T-T-Tob-bi?”
“…I got you…”

#

Hashirama found Sakura asleep in Tobirama’s arms and lap as the younger Senju cradled her against his chest. They sat on the bottom step of the steep stairs and Tobi shot Hashirama a warning look as he approached.
“She’s exhausted,” murmured Tobi.
“Did he… hit her?” whispered Hashirama, crestfallen as he saw the bruising around the side of Sakura’s face.
Tobirama nodded once. “Her arms and legs probably aren’t any better. She fought.”
Hashirama’s smile was soft and sad. “Of course she did.”
Tobirama’s jacket covered her. 
Hashirama leaned down to collect her, surprised at Tobirama’s reluctance to let go.

#

Hashirama and Tsunade were bombarded by reporters as they carried and escorted an unconscious Sakura to the awaiting ambulance.
“Is this the first attempt to kidnap Sakura?” 
“Is this part of a greater plot to topple Sakura’s chart-topping status?”
“Was there a sexual assault?”
“Do you believe the sexualization of young female pop stars invariably invites this type of harassment and assault?”
Hashirama’s throat worked as he struggled to maintain his temper. Tsunade placed a warning hand on his arm, reminding him to mind Sakura. He did.
… then Tsunade emptied her explosive, vitriolic wrath publicly upon that particular reporter.

#

Sakura woke in a private hospital room, Tsunade on one side, Hashirama on the other. Further down, Madara held her hand, his face lined with stress. His dark eyes softened as she focused on him and he gently squeezed her hand.
“Hey, little one,” murmured Madara, kissing her palm. “You’re back.”
Hashirama stroked her hair from her forehead, smiling down at her. “You unloaded a world of hurt on that guy. Good job,” he chuckled.
“How do you feel?” asked Tsunade, her firm expression for the first time cracked, her lips tight with worry. “You scared us, kid.”
“… I’m fine.”

#

Earlier that afternoon, a pair of feet were dragged through the Emergency Exit door and down to a lower level of the parking garage. From behind the gray, concrete column, the Honda Pilot’s trunk slammed shut before it navigated smoothly past the media circus. Its driver wore dark glasses and a cap and passed through unobserved, swiping his borrowed media badge. 
That night, Tobirama knocked on the Uchiha mansion’s front door, removing his sunglasses. Izuna answered, the rest of his cousins and brothers behind him. 
Tobirama popped his trunk and a groan sounded from inside.
“Thought you might be interested…”

#
TBC





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

 

TobiSaku - The Lost Ones - Tobi and Sakura, night time, sitting in back of car with city lights glowing behind them; Sakura's head rests on Tobi's shoulder.

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

Mar. 30th, 2023 02:35 pm
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Prompt: Fake Dating
Rating: T, maybe M later
Squicks: Misunderstandings, loss of family, misunderstood intimacy

“Sanity check,” said Tsunade, handing Sakura her water bottle. 
Sakura didn’t slow her ass-hauling pace on the elliptical. “I can handle it.”
“The third movie’s production has been delayed, potentially six to eight weeks. Did you want a break, or did you want to—”
“Fill it,” said Sakura, sweat pouring down her face. She doubled-down when the resistance picked up, her face red and legs straining. “Come on, just two more kilometres…”
Tsunade’s amber eyes sharpened on Sakura’s white grip.
“Something happening you need to talk about?”
Sakura shrugged.
“… Someone… approached me about a movie sequel… with Madara.”

#

It was a hellish work schedule, made worse when the unpredictable weather would spontaneously erupt in storms that risked ruining entire sets. If the film crews weren’t quick enough to cover or shelter the more delicate pieces, the day’s, or possibly week’s, filming would have been jeopardized due to the re-staging time. Knowing this, Sakura tried to be extra polite and friendly to everyone she interacted with. When she noticed Madara’s expressions becoming remote, she bit her tongue and sent a text.
When Hashirama and Tobirama showed up unannounced (and supposedly ‘without warning’) to jam, the crew were ecstatic.
 
#

Hashirama’s company warmed Madara’s spirits—in that Madara was riled and argued with Hashirama’s outlandish suggestions—just like old times.
From behind a palm tree trunk, Sakura grinned and went back to texting Ino. The crew were grabbing a quick lunch and she wasn’t needed for at least another half hour.
“You’re hiding?”
Startled, Sakura spun and found herself facing Tobirama. She laughed, shaking her head.
“No. Because of my costume for the upcoming scenes, I can’t eat for a day or so. It’s easier to just stay away from the food, for now.”
Tobirama’s crimson eyes turned flinty.
“What?…”

#

“Where’s Tsunade!”
Sakura dug her heels in the sand, her palms flat against Tobirama’s chest, her eyes furious. “Don’t you dare, Tobirama,” she growled. She glanced around for eavesdroppers.
“Days? Days, Sakura?” he demanded, grabbing her wrists to wrestle her out of the way.
“I’m used to it, I promise. I trained my body for this, Tobirama. I’ll eat on the flight to our next shoot.”
“You’re still growing! This is insane!”
Sakura yanked her wrists free.
“Pot meet kettle.”
“That’s diff…” He looked away. Swallowed. “… I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Sakura’s shoulders dipped. This man… “I know…”

#

In Sakura’s trailer the next day, Tsunade shared her tablet as Sakura’s hair set.
“Your little pick-me-up for Madara had unintended consequences… Not bad ones, but…”
“Send You’s silent star Tobirama threw hands with his brother’s starlet girlfriend, on set at her latest filming destination…” read Sakura with a groan. Beneath the headlines were pictures of her row with Tobirama the day before. She lifted a hand to her face before remembering she’d already been through make-up.
Sakura sagged, the tablet falling to her lap. She hadn’t been careful enough.
“Damn,” she muttered and smacked the table.

#

“Hands off my ‘girlfriend’, Tobi,” teased Hashirama on their private jet back to Konoha. He chortled at the pictures on the gossip site. “You really set her off, huh?”
Exhaling and pretending to ignore his brother, Tobirama stared out the window.
Sakura was definitely correct in her assertion; she trained. The strength behind the strike to his shoulder in the hospital and in holding him back bodily on the beach, were proof of that.
“She lit a fuse under you, too, huh? You look scary in that second photo,” continued Hashirama.
No, he was ‘intent’, mentally corrected Tobirama. Focused… 
Protective.

#

“This is so awkward,” sighed Sakura in Madara’s ear as the director had them hold their near-naked positions while someone fixed a broken light.
“The pictures for the paps were one thing,” agreed Madara. “But I didn’t realize this was the direction they planned for the sequel.”
He sounded sullen and tired. She could relate.
“At least you got to wear clothes,” teased Sakura dryly. “If this blanket shifts an inch, I’m going to be back on the front page for the third day in a row.”
To her surprise, Madara shuddered then hid his face.
… He was laughing.

#

With post-production winding down, Sakura and Ino visited the boutique district to get ideas for Sakura’s next Oscar dress. They’d arrived in separate cars and parked at separate ends of the district, in case they needed to make a quick getaway. This early in the morning it wasn’t usually too busy, but one never knew when the paps would wake up and breed disaster.
“Here,” said Ino, handing Sakura her ballcap.
“Thanks, I forgot mine in the car,” said Sakura, putting it on. “Nice, this has a high-pony opening?”
“Right? I love it,” gushed Ino. “Let’s start over…”

#

The morning was productive for Ino and Sakura.
It was not for Tobirama.
“I just need a pair of jeans,” he sighed as Kakashi dragged him to another shop in the boutique district. “I can order them online.”
“One of Hashirama’s sponsors wants you to be seen shopping here. They have part-ownership of the property,” explained Kakashi. 
“Then make Hashirama go.”
Kakashi just looked at his phone. “He’ll be here later. It’s your turn first. Go look at some shirts.”
Grabbing a random white shirt off a rack, Tobirama entered the nearest dressing room.
… Unfortunately, its lock was broken. 

#

Ino’s mouth dropped open and she tripped, gaping at her phone.
“Whoa, Ino. Is something wrong? Ino,” repeated Sakura, dragging her friend behind an outdoor column and trying to see if anyone was watching them. All clear. “What is it?”
“God damn,” wheezed Ino, showing Sakura her phone. “Did you know about these abs??”
“Know about wh…” Sakura sighed. “It’s Tobirama. It looks like he’s chang… oh my god, he’s here.” Sakura whirled around, searching for him. “Shit.”
“Well, with that pic, he’s about to get mobbed…” Ino’s eyes widened at Sakura.
“Take the bags,” said Sakura; then she ran.

#

“Kakashi,” called Tobirama. He held his phone closer to his ear over the raucous screams and cheering. “Kakashi?”
“Just a second, security’s coming,” said Kakashi, huffing through the phone. “Stay where you are.”
“Kakashi, come on, this isn’t…” Tobirama swallowed and braced a hand against the Employee Only door at the back of the store. He wasn’t sure how much longer that door was going to withstand the wave of fans who’d suddenly appeared at the store, as if summoned by black magic. He looked behind him. The EMERGENCY EXIT door was close.
Could he make it?
… Crack…
He sprinted.

#

Pulling his hoodie up over his distinctive hair, Tobirama hurried away from the delivery entrance of the store. The corridor emptied out near the back of the boutique district, near the dumpsters and storage depot, and he finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Back to the car, he just needed to make it back to the car, around the crazy mob, and then he could hide out there until Kakashi—
“It’s him!”
Glancing casually over his shoulder, hoping he was wrong, his eyes widened at their proximity.
“There he is!”
Wild screaming rose around him.
Today was not his day.

#

Fine, he’d get a personal trainer if he lived through this.
His heart pounding, Tobirama bolted for the parking garage. Behind him, hundreds of feet thundered, chasing him down. He would never disagree with Kakashi again about abusing the Priority Parking spaces. He should have just said yes and paid the fine and shut up about it, but no, he had to speak up about abusing the system, and Kakashi had sighed and gone along with it, dammit—!
Suddenly a cherry red Mazda RX-7 FD squealed to a stop in front of him.
“Get in,” ordered the feminine driver.
#

“Sakura—?!”
“Now!”
The second his door shut she seized the e-brake, pulled an illegal U-turn and gunned the finely tuned rotary engine. The G-force threw him into the door. He grunted.
“Hold on,” she ordered. “And buckle up.”
“What is this?”
“A five-point harness.”
“Why do you have a car with a… You drive?”
“Deal I made with Tsunade,” said Sakura, glancing behind them in the rearview mirror. She adjusted her ballcap and sunglasses. “Grab a hat and sunglasses from the glove compartment. We’ll be hitting traffic in a sec. The windows are only so tinted.”

#

They hit the freeway and Sakura opened up the throttle; the car leapt forward.
Tobirama stared at her.
“Twin turbo,” she explained, as if that was his question. “Uh, could you set your address in my phone GPS, please? I don’t want to get a ticket for touching my phone while driving.”
She pointed to the dash-mounted bracket.
—As if she wasn’t driving double the speed limit.
“Your car will be impounded at this speed if you’re caught.”
“Nah, they just ticket me for speed. I’m their quota income. They’re only serious if they catch me touching the screen.”

#

They slowed to a reasonable pace as they approached Tobirama’s warehouse. When Tobirama looked at her speedometer, Sakura shrugged. “I don’t shit where I eat.”
He couldn’t help the way the corners of his lips tugged at that.
“How old is this car?” he asked instead.
“As old as you,” she said, grinning at him. “It was a good year,” she added with a wink behind her sunglasses.
“Hold on,” he said, typing a code into his phone. “Turn left at the next alley. Ignore the GPS.”
As Sakura turned, an industrial garage door loomed open.
“You can drive in.”

#

The engine idled down as Sakura parked her getaway car.
Tobirama looked down at his five-point harness and began unbuckling it.
“Would you like a drink after that rally?”
Sakura laughed. “I use my WRX for… Uh, sure. Is this whole building yours?” she asked, stepping out and staring around her with awestruck eyes. “You can just drive in and park anywhere?”
Tobirama nodded. “It makes it easier. Lots of room.”
Sakura shook her head. “I’m jealous. It’s so quiet.”
Tobirama directed her to an industrial elevator which he operated by hand.
“Too tired to walk?”
“Yes,” he sighed.

#

“Tour?” asked Sakura, peeking around his shoulder when they got to the next floor.
Tobirama stared at her pointedly.
She smacked her palms together. “Please?”
He held her gaze a moment before nodding. Sakura thought she was doing a good job being impressed a normal and reasonable amount—until they arrived at one particular room.
“I want to play them all,” she begged, her face pressed up against the glass, her breath fogging it up. On the other side of the glass, his collection of instruments from around the world was carefully arranged and protected.
“No,” he said.
“Evil tease.”

#

Sakura’s phone beeped at noon.
“I gotta go meet Ino for lunch,” she apologized. “Wanna come?”
He shook his head. “Finally eating?” he asked as he walked her back down to the garage.
“Making up for lost time. I’ll text you their menu. Their mantoo is to die for.”
He nodded, a small smile on his lips.
Sakura tilted her head. “Hm?”
“Thank you,” he said. 
“Oh.” She blushed and shrugged. “I know what it’s like to face a stampeding crowd without security.”
“Is that why Tsunade agreed to the stunt driving and coaching?”
“… Mostly,” hedged Sakura. “Take care, Tobirama.”

#
TBC

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

Mar. 29th, 2023 03:24 pm
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Prompt: Fake Dating
Rating: T, maybe M later
Squicks: Misunderstandings, loss of family, misunderstood intimacy


Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven 

#

“You’re quiet,” remarked Hashirama on Tuesday afternoon.
Their producers had left them alone in the recording booth, heading down the hall to the recording studio lounge with the rest of the band for their break. Tobirama had remained to re-tune his guitar for their next set. Hashirama had initially followed the others but turned back when Tobirama failed to join them.
“I ran twice as long yesterday,” said Tobirama.
“Training for a marathon? Or trying to clear your head?” asked Hashirama.
Tobirama continued retuning his guitar. 
Hashirama’s brows drew together. His voice lowered. “What is—”
“It’s nothing,” interrupted Tobi.

#

Surreptitiously, Hashirama studied his sensitive little brother through the afternoon. Everyone always thought that he, Hashirama, was the emotional Senju, but they were wrong. It was Tobirama who felt his emotions most intensely, and buried them even further down.
Something was bothering Tobirama. He had seemed fine through the previous week… 
Was it the memorial?
Was it the fight in the cemetery?
What could have… 
Hashirama lowered his chin, pretending to re-read the notes on his hand-written score. His fingers traced a bar of the chorus, the cheerful refrain jarring against his introspection and concern for his family.
 
#

Let me be your dragon
I’ll help you burn them to the ground
Let me be your weapon
To destroy their painful sound.

Let me be the one
To praise your burning sun.
Please let me be the one
To taste your bittersweet tongue.
Let me be,
Let me be the one.

They forged you into their shield
And made you take their fall

I’ll be the sword you wield
I’ll cut them through, and all
I ask in return
Is that you take a minute,
Just a minute,
To breathe, and love, my love,
Love yourself most of all

#

He refused to acknowledge it.
He wasn’t like his brother and Madara.
He wasn’t there to profit from another’s misery or suffering.
But the words had poured out of him when he’d sat down after hearing Sakura pour her heart out on the piano. She had shaken something inside him and now he couldn’t figure out where to put it back; or even if he really wanted to…
In the wee hours of the morning in his home studio, rubbing his bleary eyes, Tobirama dropped his pencil and exhaled the anger that burned in his chest. 
… he didn’t want to.

#

How long did it take to get the music right?
Hours.
Days.
Weeks.
Months.
It wouldn’t let go. It had to be perfect. It never was, though. It haunted him. He changed the key. He changed the instrument from guitar to piano and back again. None of it was quite right.
Finally, to try and rid himself of its possession, he turned on the recording switch and entered his smaller home studio. It was the middle of the night, but he needed to do something about it. 
So he closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and poured out his soul.

#

When Tobirama hadn’t responded to any of his texts in a week, Hashirama’s panic set in. He finally broke down, smashing through Tobirama’s door, and scoured his warehouse for signs of life.
He found Tobirama on the floor of his home studio, papers scattered around him, the red RECORDING light above the door normally barring others from entering and interrupting his session. That morning, though, Hashirama shouldered the door open, ripping the lock from the wall.
Then he grabbed Tobirama, threw him over his shoulder, and raced to the hospital.
“I’m done,” mumbled Tobirama. “I’m fine.”
“The Hell you are!”

#

At the race track, Sakura removed her full-face helmet and pulled her phone from the pocket of her fire-proof suit.
“Do you need a minute?” asked Genma, her coach.
“Yeah, please,” said Sakura, brows furrowed as she flipped to her messages. 
Ino’s text appeared on her screen.
“Tobirama in hospital for exhaustion. Madara said he’s going to visit. Do you want to send anything?”
Sakura frowned before leaning back against her car.
Tobirama? But, Tobirama had always been the steady one…
Biting her cheek, she dialed.
“Hey,” said Sakura when Ino answered her call. “I need a favour…”
#

Grumpy, his IV irritating the taped incision in his hand, Tobirama ignored the porter who wheeled yet another over-sized flower arrangement into his room. 
“It can go to the intensive care unit,” he repeated for the hundredth time that day.
“Considering how much effort I went to to sneak in here to check on you, that’s really rude, Tobirama,” retorted a familiar voice.
Freezing, Tobirama stared at the porter as she peeked out from the overdone fern fronds and winked at him.
“So what happened, Tobi,” cajoled Sakura, glancing around. She toed the door shut and closed the blinds.

#

He stared at her.
Sakura hopped up on his bed, peering at him with soft eyes.
“Hey, c’mon. This isn’t like you,” she said, picking at his thin covers. She smiled at him, her brows furrowing. “I didn’t want to send a message in case… well, you know what it’s like…”
He couldn’t help staring at her. Why had she come?
“What do you need? I brought you a notebook and some pens—um, in different colours, because I couldn’t remember if you liked blue or black or…”
He looked down at the gift.
“Thank you,” he said, accepting it.

#

“You were burning the candle at both ends, weren’t you?”
He shrugged.
“Oy,” said Sakura, smacking him on the shoulder so hard his eyes widened. Her tone gentled. “Get better. Stop making me worry. You’re a good guy, Tobirama. I… I never said thank you, after you saved my life, that night with Sasuke, or when you apologized, at the memorial… but I never forgot. I’m sorry I didn’t make time to express that. You are appreciated.”
Clearing his throat, Tobirama nodded. “Thank you.”
“I’ll ask Madara to bring you some lemon tea. Your voice is rough. You singing now?”

#

Several days later, a yawning Tobirama answered his door at home in a rumpled white t-shirt, loose jogging pants, bare feet and bed head.
The blond bombshell in large, dark sunglasses smirked at him and shoved a gift basket into his arms.
“Sakura said to take care of yourself. She made this up for you personally with her favourites, including her special honey-lemon tea, so you better use it,” said the blond. 
“Wait, what is—?”
“Text her later to say you got it and thank her,” she added. “I’m Ino, by the way.”
“Thanks…?”
Ino grinned and left.

#

When Tobirama had first arrived home, he’d been pissed. Hashirama had replaced his doors and locks, but Tobirama still hadn’t forgiven him for barging into his residence.
His only consolation was to find his messy studio… still a mess. 
It was embarrassing, since he prided himself on his organized life and home, but… he could admit he was a bit relieved that no one had intruded on his studio more than absolutely necessary. He knelt and collected the abandoned papers from the floor.
When he exited the tidied recording room, the blinking light on his mixing board caught his attention.

#

… love yourself most of all…
Tobirama paled and turned to stone. The rawness in his own voice sent chills down his spine. The recording faded away.
That’s… that’s what he’d sung?
The recording went on, catching his final sigh and collapse, and he winced at the noise he made as he fell to the ground on the storm of papers. The dead air that followed was uncomfortable.
He rubbed a hand through his hair, swallowing. 
He lifted a hand to the mixing board, his fingers brushing the DELETE button.
“You singing now?” Sakura had asked, interested.
… He withdrew his hand.

#

Ino at her side, Sakura strolled into Hashirama’s mansion later that day, smiling brightly at the attendants. She rode the elevator up to his private wing and nodded at Ino, who waited there while Sakura continued alone.
And hour later, Sakura returned and left with Ino, off to their next appointment.
The next day, Hashirama swallowed and looked around each corner as he entered Kakashi’s office at the label’s office. He sat in a corner, his shoulders hunched, glancing around furtively and speaking softly.
“What happened?” asked Kakashi.
“Shhhh!” Hashirama’s eyes were wide in his pale face. “Don’t summon her…”

#

 
“Here are the scripts you’ve been asked to consider. Sorry I couldn’t e-mail them, but the production teams are being very tight-lipped.”
“That’s okay. I prefer reading on paper,” said Sakura, accepting the bundle of spiral-bound scripts from Tsunade. She leaned back in her seat, crossed her legs, and began to read.
“Kakashi called the other day.”
“Oh?” Flip. Flip. Flip. “How’s he doing?”
“He apologized on Hashirama’s behalf and begged that you please forgive them for not realizing Tobirama’s exhaustion.”
Flip. “I like the first script.”
“Sakura.”
“Yes?”
“… Thank you for checking on Tobirama.”
Pause.
“… Anytime.”

#
 
TBC
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NARUTO: Tobirama/Sakura - "The Lost Ones" drabble series [Age Chart] - #tobisakuweek2023

Mar. 29th, 2023 02:35 pm
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Age Table Through Story
 BeginningMoviePartyMemorial/
Hospital		Movie 2Music Video seriesSecret SongRescueConcert
Madara/Hashirama161827293031313232
Kagami151726282930303131
Izuna/Tobirama/Obito141625272829293030
Itachi101221232425252626
Sasuke/Sakura/Ino5716181920202121
          



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


Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || 

#



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

Mar. 15th, 2023 04:19 pm
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Prompt: Fake Dating
Rating: T, maybe M later
Squicks: Misunderstandings, loss of family, misunderstood intimacy
A/N: The prompt comes into play! :)

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six

# 

For his part, Tobirama kept to himself socially. He produced each album for “Send You”, he mixed up to fifty tracks at a time by hand (when Hashirama pouted about wanting ‘more layers’), he remained aloof in public and silent in private. He had zero interest in following his brother’s and Madara’s salacious, rumour-mongering route to popularity and notoriety. The paps had mostly left him to his own devices, which he appreciated. With the constant travel, studio time, rehearsing and recording, it wasn’t like he had much free time, anyway. He was grateful his responsibilities ended at their music.

#

Tobirama’s silent, ‘brooding’ demeanour did not leave him devoid of fans, however.
“Tobi-spotting” became a favourite passtime of a sector of Send You’s fans, and when he did go out—to meet a collaborator, to grab a coffee on his way home after a recording session, to buy a hat to protect his sensitive eyes from the sun—he landed in the spotlight on social media. When he thought he’d found a small, out of the way gym to work out at that he mistakenly assumed was safe, it became a mad house  when his picture was revealed online.

#

Tobirama adapted to this constant invasion of privacy by not reacting. He had never been very expressive, but he learned to lock down anything that would give away his personal tastes or needs.
Instead of living in an elaborate, swanky mansion, or having parties, he had purchased an old warehouse in a more rundown area of Konoha and renovated it to suit his needs. He left the ground floor mostly as it was, but the interior he updated with soundproof tile, two recording rooms, a home gym, and, his pride and joy, a climate controlled instrument repository. 
It was home.

#

Sakura, on the other hand, became a slave to her position.
Elaborate, wild parties in one of her downtown condos, retreats at a villa in southern France, extravagant shopping with a trail of paparazzi in tow as she made a production of running through the latest fashions, all served to build her reputation as a media darling. And rather than dissuade the circus of hangers on, Tsunade taught Sakura how to harness their attention.
… so while Sakura would be trawling high-end boutiques, she would be accompanied by friends who championed social and political reform circles, loudly debating civil rights.

#

“Should I wear the silver or the gold to the equal rights rally?” asked Sakura, holding up two different dresses for Ino, her best friend and stylist, to assess.
“The neuro-divergent, ASD, BIPOC, or LGBTQ+ equal rights rally?” inquired Ino, checking Sakura’s schedule. 
“BIPOC.”
“Gold. Their theme is allied with the Olympics in recognizing the level of effort different government organizations put into protecting BIPOC. You want to encourage them to adopt a gold standard.”
“Perfect, I liked the gold one better anyway.”
“Grab that white one with the baby blue fade in the skirt for the ASD.”
“Done.”

#

“Do I have any parties next week?” asked Sakura, sipping her branded sparkling water as she and Ino stretched their legs near a fountain outside the high-end shopping district. They were both aware of the not-so-subtle camera phones and digital cameras pointed their way, and pretending not to pay attention to them. Routine.
“Your own or anyone else’s?”
Smiling, Sakura groaned through her teeth. Ino sent her a wicked-looking (but genuinely sympathetic) smile.
“Need a break?”
“… it’s a family thing… I need to be with my brothers.”
Ino nodded.
“Already arranged.”
Sakura’s shoulders relaxed. “Thank you.”

#

Sakura glared at Tsunade and Kakashi in Tsunade’s office, her hands fisted tightly at her sides.
“Never.”
“I know you don’t want to use it for this—”
“Then we aren’t doing it,” stated Sakura.
“—But it’s a good opportunity for a ‘flare up’ between Hashirama and Madara over your behalf,” continued Kakashi ruthlessly.
“No.”
Tsunade looked between the pair. Kakashi had the best strategic head on his shoulders in the business, but she sympathized with Sakura’s vehemence in this particular case.
“Kakashi, maybe we should shelve this one for now.”
“It was Hashirama’s agent who made the request this time.”

#

The distant, rolling thunder leant a miserable soundtrack to the heavy clouds and occasional rain misting the cemetery that Friday afternoon.
Walking between Izuna and Madara, Sakura held her head high as they approached her parents’ plot, lovingly maintained by the family staff. Itachi and Sasuke were already there in their formal suits, and Sakura tried to ignore how obviously her hair stood out in their group.
Her jaw tightened when Hashirama and Tobirama approached, flowers in hand, to face her and Madara. Cameras followed them.
Her inhale shook.
“My parents’ death is not a publicity stunt,” whispered Sakura icily.

#

Not for the first time in his life, Tobirama cursed the media.
He had raged at Hashirama that this farce was in the poorest taste, but Hashirama had pushed on, promising that he would work it out with Madara.
Well, Madara was one thing.
The look of pain and fury on Sakura’s face that mournful afternoon would be burned into Tobirama’s memory until the day he died.
How could you?
How dare you?
Have you no sense of decency left?
The unspoken accusations ricocheted through his heart, leaving him heavy, empty and ashamed.
“Please accept our sincerest condolences,” he murmured.

#

“I didn’t know this is what they planned,” said Hashirama as he and Madara paid their respects shoulder to shoulder in the rain.
They had to make the moment last so the news crews and paps could get all their required shots in.
“You’ve stood here with me before,” answered Madara tiredly. “Thank you for being here again.”
Hashirama glanced at the only woman in their group, on Madara’s other side.
“Sakura,” he began sincerely. “I’m so—”
“Not now,” snapped Tobirama, his glare cutting off Hashirama’s comfort. “We’re disgracing this family enough.”
Everyone’s attention turned to Tobirama.
—Including the paparazzi’s. 

#

 
Further proof that Tobirama Senju disapproves of his brother’s relationship with Sakura was recently captured at an intimate Uchiha family gathering.
Friday afternoon, the Uchiha clan gathered to pay their respects to the thirteenth anniversary of the passing of Sakura, Itachi and Sasuke Uchihas’ parents. Sources close to the families confirmed that Tobirama called his brother’s relationship with the talented young starlet “disgraceful”. The photos from the event corroborate this, with a rare picture of Sakura herself glaring at Tobirama for his interference.
In a comforting twist, however the pictures and videos released convey that Hashirama and Madara have reconciled.

#

At Madara’s, and thus the family’s, clanstead home, the Uchiha and Senju gathered to share a drink. Itachi narrowed his eyes at Madara as he poured Sasuke a tumbler of whiskey, but Izuna chided Itachi.
“We all need it,” said Izuna, sagging in his corner of an over sized leather couches. 
Hashirama looked around, noting the absence of a cherished, familiar face.
“She’s in her room,” said Madara quietly.
“She was very angry,” agreed Itachi, looking toward the door, then back at his brother. His shoulders stiffened, but he stayed by his brother’s side.
She deserved to be, thought Tobirama.

#

Sakura had ‘moved out’ of Madara’s home when she was sixteen, but the semi-public residences she inhabited held none of her precious personal belongings. She had left those safely protected at Madara’s. Madara had protected her from so much, growing up, and she truly felt grateful for his oversight and guidance.
She just wished she’d been as strong as he was, at his age, to control her own current life.
Her emotions warring inside her, she pushed away from her window, snuck into Madara’s room, and went to his desk.
There, she found what she needed and escaped downstairs.

#

The faint airs stirred his sensitive ears and Tobirama’s attention ebbed from the conversation Hashirama and the Uchiha shared in the private family room in Madara’s home.
Wordlessly slipping from the room, he followed the slips of piano until he arrived outside a dim conservatory down a half-forgotten hall. Half-forgotten, because somehow, he knew this was where he would find her again.
Her voice pained, her playing a mess of raw and pristine, Sakura sat turned away from him at the piano. To her left side, he saw the blanket she used to sleep under, there, piled neatly.

#

It was wrong.
It was wrong and broke so many of their desperately protected levels of privacy that Tobirama knew he would never be able to atone for his intrusion on her intimate, guttural pain.
But his phone was out before he knew it, recording her, the conservatory door opened half an an inch wider so he could capture her playing and her voice and her emotion and her heart and her well-deserved, bone-deep despair.
Sakura may be seventeen, nearly eighteen, to the public.
But in private, Tobirama recognized she was in actuality an achingly, breathtakingly old soul.

#

TBC


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

Mar. 11th, 2023 09:17 pm
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Prompt: Fake Dating
Rating: T, maybe M later
Squicks: Misunderstandings, loss of family, misunderstood intimacy
A/N: The prompt comes into play! :)

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five

# 

The music world reeled when SendUchiha announced their amicable separation. With the Uchiha split from the Senju, both families founded new bands.
“Send You”, with Hashirama as lead guitarist and vocals, Tobirama as bass and drums. After a series of auditions, they collected several more members, including Mito Uzumaki, another vocalist and keyboardist, and guitar-bassists Hiruzen Sarutobi and Shimura Danzou. They turned their focus to rock and guitar music.
Their inaugural album was very well received, especially when Madara and Sakura-chan promoted them in their own interviews. Sakura-chan even had a cameo in their first music video.

#

For their part, the Uchiha looked inward and recruited family members for their dance-pop debut. Madara, Izuna, Obito, and Kagami Uchiha founded the renowned First Generation of “You Cheat”. Their popularity soared.
“And who is looking after Sakura-chan?” challenged Tobirama when Hashirama announced the Uchihas’ tour over breakfast one morning.
“Tsunade is her manager. She won’t let anything happen to Sakura-chan,” assured Hashirama as he seared their eggs. “Madara also arranged extra help for Itachi, Sasuke and Sakura-chan, to ensure they’re cared for when he travels.”
Tobirama’s brows drew together and he glared at his toast.

#

Sakura’s career also took off, as popular media came to call her, “Sakura-chan”. Movies, TV show cameos, her own album, her own tour, her own awards for music, television, film. She accompanied the Uchihas to their music and choreography practices often enough to learn their moves and songs, and occasionally popped up in their videos, to public delight. Madara relied heavily on Tsunade for her guidance in matters relating to the management of Sakura’s career, and Tsunade never failed.
The friendly rivalry between the Uchiha and Senju bands rolled on but soured distinctly following an awards show after party.

#

Sasuke glared at Sakura and she flipped him off.
“Put that out before Madara catches you,” snapped Sasuke, grabbing at Sakura’s cigarette.
“I do what I want,” insisted Sakura, now 16, dancing out of Sasuke’s reach. She took a deep drag on her current poison of choice and blew it in his face. “See?”
“You think you’re such a renegade, smoking?” he taunted her as they hid from the crowds on the Senju’s hotel penthouse balcony. Hashirama had invited the Uchihas over after their latest concert to relax. Which was exactly what Sakura was doing. Relaxing.
“Jealous?”
Sasuke shoved her.

#

Sakura’s scream rent the air.
Madara and Izuna tore off in a flash, Hashirama right on their heels. Unfortunately, the balcony wrapped around the entire penthouse, and was multi-level.
“Where’s her bodyguard?” asked Hashirama.
“She was with Sasuke—” said Izuna.
Madara cursed under his breath. Without Itachi nearby to curb Sasuke’s sharp tongue, Sasuke tended to snipe at Sakura and she gave as good as she got. Those two pressed each other’s buttons relentlessly.
“Hold on!”
The trio paused as they heard Tobirama’s voice. “Hold on, I’ve got you!”
Madara gasped as they found Sakura dangling from Tobirama’s grip.

#

“You jerk!” screamed Sakura once Tobirama had her safely on her feet again. He grabbed her around the waist when she launched herself at her brother.
Sasuke’s face and neck burned as he looked away, swallowing hard, his lips a pale, thin line. 
“Easy, Sakura-chan,” said Tobirama. “Are you hurt? Did you hit anything—”
“I’m about to hit something, right into next week!”
“Sakura-chan!”
“FUCK, my name is Sakura, not Sakura-chan!” shrieked Sakura, fighting Tobirama’s grip. “I’m not a kid!”
“You’re a minor until your age of majority, so yes, you are,” countered Madara, hard eyes set.

#

“You fought because she was smoking again?” asked Madara tightly.
Izuna, Hashirama and Tobirama waited on the periphery as Madara chewed out Sasuke and Sakura and the near-fatal shenanigans. 
“It’s gross, and unhealthy!”
“It’s my life!”
“Stop it, both of you!” roared Madara, gripping both their shoulders. “You could have killed your sister tonight, Sasuke!”
“She was already doing it—and she’s not my real sister, anyway!”
In the middle of rearing back to kick Sasuke, Sakura paused, her face shadowed.
“Sasuke,” snapped Izuna, stepping forward, but Sakura shoved them all away.
“I hate you all!”
“Sakura,” begged Hashirama.

#

“Stay out of this, Hashirama,” growled Madara, glancing at his friend.
But Hashirama pushed forward, ignoring Madara.
“Sakura-ch… Sakura, please, listen to me. You’re understandably upset and angry,” said Hashirama, only for Madara to get in his face.
“I said, stay out of this,” snarled Madara.
“She’s hurting! She needs a break!” insisted Hashirama, Tobirama at his side.
“That’s between us and Tsunade, it’s none of your business,” interrupted Izuna, taking up place beside Madara.
The tension mounted, and Sakura found herself between them both, her anger overwhelmed by theirs.
“None of you are listening!” she screamed.
—A flash...

#

The photo was on the front page of every magazine, trash and entertainment website, every newscast for the next two days. Hashirama and Madara glaring at each other toe-to-toe, their younger brothers at their sides, Sakura between them all.
In Tsunade’s office, Sakura slumped sullenly on the couch as Madara slouched, his arms crossed and expression stiff.
“We can’t let the rumours fly much longer. How do you want to play it?” asked Tsunade. 
On the opposite couch, Hashirama leaned forward, his fingers folded together. Beside him, his agent, Kakashi, lifted a gloved hand.
“I have an idea.”

#

Love Triangle Turns Violent!
“In a stunning revelation, everyone’s favourite household name, Sakura-chan, is revealed to be involved in a seedy love triangle with none other than her childhood friend, Hashirama Senju, and his best friend and her former guardian, Madara Uchiha. The men, each 11 years older than Sakura-chan, have released statements indicating that the photo is the result of a private matter. Our investigative team reveal that their love-affair reached a boiling point over the weekend after the Senju concert, where each relationship was revealed to the other.
“Was Sakura-chan manipulated, or the manipulator?…”



#

“Remember that you were the one who didn’t want to be seen as a kid anymore,” said Tsunade to Sakura as their limo approached the recording studio.
“I know.”
“You better have kicked that disgusting habit.”
Her expression bitter before evening out, Sakura nodded.
“We’ll manage this as best we can, but be prepared to duck the occasional egg.”
Taking a deep, slow breath and holding it deep in her chest, Sakura closed her eyes and nodded. Her skirt had never been shorter, her eye makeup never so dark. Her career metamorphosis was officially underway.
…From “Sakura-chan” to “Sakura”.

#

Izuna glowered at his phone before flipping to another site.
“Relax. It’s a publicity stunt,” said Madara, making bacon at the stove in their kitchen. 
“Why does Hashirama end up looking like the golden boy, while you end up looking like a groomer?”
“It’s not the truth, it’s the angle the paps were already taking to spin the fight.” Madara stirred the tomatoes in another skillet. “We’re lucky no one recorded what really happened. There could have been charges.”
Silent at the table, Sasuke frowned, but held his tongue when Itachi patted his back. Sakura still had not forgiven him.

#

The public gorged itself on the ‘revelation’.
The drama. The age gaps. The salacious hints and sordid ‘details’ ‘leaked’ by individuals ‘close to the sources’. Added to Sakura’s transformation in front of the audience that watched her grow up on screen, the provocative poses and suggestive lyrics to her new albums, the transition from honest, wholesome little girl to confident, mature, young adult propelled her to super stardom. Her first tour as ‘Sakura’ outsold all other bands the year she turned seventeen.
The publicity photos, staged, between her and Hashirama, or her and Madara, only fueled the public’s insatiable greed.

#

Tobirama, 25, looked up from his phone’s news ping, his expression cold and even. With his other hand, he lifted his coffee and sipped, his mood conflicted.
It was probably another publicity stunt. They’d had to do something, after Sasuke’s temper tantrum. But…
There was just something wrong, he felt, in making Sakura grow up to protect Sasuke, a spoiled brat, from consequence. He didn’t mean to criticize Tsunade and Kakashi, but he disagreed with the course of action they’d taken.
Sakura-chan looked thinner in every picture he saw. Was anyone looking after her?
…She was still a kid. 

#
TBC

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

Mar. 5th, 2023 06:44 pm
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Prompt: Fake Dating
Rating: T, maybe M later
Squicks: Misunderstandings, loss of family, misunderstood intimacy
A/N: The prompt comes into play later; this is just the intro. :)

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four

# 
 
Muffling his yawn—he had finals soon and was up all night catching up on missed classes—Madara rubbed his red-rimmed eyes. He couldn’t wait for summer, when he could take a break. He smelled coffee and looked over at Sakura as she tiptoed into the boardroom, very carefully carrying a mug of coffee. His tense jaw relaxed. She wouldn’t spill a drop. She never did.
“Apologies, as I was saying,” said Tsunade. “Rumours have started and we must get ahead of them.”
“Rumours?”
“Sakura has been nominated for multiple Oscars.”
Madara dropped the scalding coffee across his lap.

#
 
Looking down at her pretty rose dress backstage, Sakura twirled the skirt this way and that, smiling to herself beside Tsunade at the Oscars. It was like a fairy tale. She and Madara had practiced singing earlier that week in front of the empty seats at the theater, and now she would sing in front of everyone. It would be just like practice.
But when staff called her name and she walked out under the bright lights, she panicked. Her hands shook as she lifted the microphone. Her eyes filled with tears. There were too many people. Her throat closed.

#

Madara saw her shaking and immediately knew something was wrong.
Ignoring the stage director’s orders, he hopped nimbly between security, down into the orchestra pit—”I’ll be right back,” swinging a guitar over his shoulder—before climbing up on stage and finding Sakura, trembling.
“It’s okay,” he soothed, sitting in front of her. 
She shook her head, terrified. He opened his arms and she leapt into his lap, burying her face in his suit jacket. 
“C’mon, you can do this,” he murmured, rubbing her back. She shook her head again, sniffling.
“I’ll play and you sing, just like at home.”

#

The low audience chatter flowed like a stressful susurration around Madara and Sakura, still on stage. From the wings, Tsunade stared at Sakura, glancing at Madara, but he subtly lifted his palm from Sakura’s back, and Tsunade held her place.
“I’m scared, Madara,” whispered Sakura into Madara’s jacket.
“Am I scary?” asked Madara, pulling back so he could look into her eyes.
She shook her head, sniffling, her eyes wet.
“Then sing for me. I’ll sing with you. Just like in the studio. Just look at me. Can you do that?”
Sakura bit her lip before giving a tiny nod.

#
 
Tobirama frowned. “What happened?”
Hashirama looked up from his phone. “Not sure, there’s a delay. Hold on, it’s back up again.”
And it was; on stage, Sakura held a microphone while sitting in Madara’s lap, his arms around her and the guitar. Then they sang the Power of Love, with no other accompaniment, gazing at each other with happiness and comfort.
Hashirama sniffed.
“It’s so beautiful—”
Tobirama groaned at his brother’s overt emotional meltdown. Again. Tobirama had banned them from watching “The Lost One”, Madara and Sakura’s film, after Hashirama’s last howling breakdown.
… but he could admit, it was magic.
 
#

Madara held Sakura’s hand as they bowed (Sakura curtsied, one little foot behind the other) at the end of the song, the susurration supplanted by thunderous applause. Colour high in her cheeks, Sakura then tugged Madara back to the orchestra pit, pointing. At the audience’s guffaw, Madara apologized to the guitarist and returned his instrument, Sakura hugging his leg when he straightened. The pair held hands all the way back to the wings, where Tsunade checked Sakura over, ensuring she felt secure enough to continue for the rest of the night.
“I can do it,” promised Sakura. “Believe in me.”

#

“And the winner for best actress… is Sakura Haruno-Uchiha!”
Sakura’s iron-clad grip shook Madara’s hand as they carefully ascended the stairs to the dreaded microphone. Sakura swallowed audibly and looked out across the thousands of faces for the second time that night. Kneeling beside her, Madara rubbed her back and handed her a cue card.
“You got this,” he whispered.
She nodded, chin wobbling.
“You’re doing great, Sakura-chan!” shouted Hashirama from the crowd, clapping wildly. “I believe in you!”
Sakura flushed, then grinned. “Thank you, Hashi-Hashi!”
The crowd chuckled.
Confidence renewed, Sakura read her thank-yous.

#

At the end of the night, after a few last interviews, Madara carried Sakura out to the limo. Fast asleep on his shoulder, he curled her into the crook of his neck while Hashirama helped settle Madara’s jacket around her to keep her warm. 
“Thank you,” said Madara quietly.
“Anything for Sakura-chan,” said Hashirama, grinning at them. “She did well.”
“Ah,” agreed Madara tiredly, pride in his eyes and smile.
From beside Hashirama, Tobirama watched the little girl sleep. Perhaps the others were excited for the success that night, but he couldn’t stifle his anxiety for little Sakura-chan.

#

At Hashirama’s insistence, the limo delivered Madara and Sakura home safely first, leaving Hashirama and Tobirama to handle the comedown from the night’s excitement. Silence stretched between the brothers before Hashirama’s smile retreated and he studied Tobirama.
“What is it?” asked Hashirama, breaking the peace.
Tobirama’s frown deepened and he drew his eyes from the darkened windows to find his brother’s gaze appraising him.
“I’m worried,” said Tobirama.
“About?”
Tobirama’s hands flinched on his dark wool-clad thighs. “This isn’t safe. Sakura-chan’s too young for this.”
Instead of laughing him off, as Tobirama expected, Hashirama nodded.
“Ah,” he agreed.

#
TBC

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

Feb. 24th, 2023 09:45 pm
moor: picrew avatar by karameruya (Default)
  TLO banner

Prompt: Fake Dating
Rating: T, maybe M later
Squicks: Misunderstandings, loss of family, misunderstood intimacy
A/N: The prompt comes into play later; this is just the intro. :)

Part One || Part Two || Part Three

#

“What do you mean, she was signed on for a movie and music deal?” croaked Izuna at dinner. Sasuke and Itachi froze.
Madara and Sakura looked at each other and shrugged.
“I refused initially, but then they said I could be in it, too, and Sakura gave me The Look—”
“I TOLD you not to give in to that—!”
“—and it’s probably just going to be a little family musical movie that will only air on streaming, it’s not a big deal,” said Madara, leaning back in his seat. He glanced down at Sakura, still beaming at him. 
“Well, probably.”

#

Tobirama choked on his cola, spitting it across the dining room table.
“What do you mean, the band’s going to be in a movie? I thought the Battle of the Bands was only for the record deal?”
“Ah, yeah, well, Madara and Sakura-chan impressed some bigwig at the—”
“Sakura-chan?! What is wrong with you guys? She’s a kid!”
“Madara is her guardian and they talked it over, and they’re going to give it a try.”
Tobirama stared. Hashirama’s excitement faded.
“In light of this, though… Madara and I talked. After the current record, we’re going our separate ways.”

#

Madara and Sakura’s chemistry was perfect for the roles of little castaway fae abandoned on a beach and discovered by hermit fisherman Madara.
She was a marvel. The cast and crew delighted in her. She sang, acted, danced as if she was born to it.
Madara, ever protective, never let her out of his sight, occasionally calling in other family to help if they were ever at separate shooting locations or even different wardrobe trailers. He turned into a combination father-brother-agent to her before reluctantly agreeing to Tsunade Senju, one of Hashirama’s relatives, taking over as her agent.

#

The SenjUchiha band composed part of the film score and recorded a version of the main theme that was released alongside the official soundtrack. Sakura sang the movie version, her haunting vocals bringing tears to the eyes of everyone in the recording booth. 
The movie broke box office records, rocketing to number one, as did the soundtrack. 
At the premier, Sakura and Madara walked down the red carpet together, hand in hand, and Sakura waved and smiled. Her hand shook in his, and he squeezed her fingers.
Paparazzi captured Sakura offering her popcorn to Madara. The photo delighted the world.

#

Sakura sat in Madara’s lap and ate popcorn, with Izuna, Itachi, Sasuke, Hashirama and Tobirama alongside them, at the premier. Hashirama congratulated Sakura lavishly, making her giggle, and Madara’s family jeered at him showing up bedraggled on screen, which he glared at them for, until Sakura patted his hand and whispered, “It’s okay, they’re just jealous.”
Tobirama tried to remain unaffected, but even his stoicism faltered when Sakura sang to Madara’s character about how happy she was to have found him. 
There wasn’t a whisper in the theater when Sakura’s voice faded away at the end of the emotional film.

#

SenjUchiha’s breakout album broke records. The band travelled to music festivals, to late night talk shows, to concert halls, all over the country. Occasionally, if they were close to Konoha, they would let Sakura (and Itachi, Izuna, and Sasuke) come watch from backstage. Sasuke often complained, but Sakura would happily sit with her ear defenders on, clapping and cheering for Hashirama and Madara.
As their first and last tour came to an end, more news reached their ears. As they had predicted, things were going to become even busier with show business. 
Hashirama and Madara officially, and amicably, parted ways. 

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

Feb. 24th, 2023 09:38 pm
moor: picrew avatar by karameruya (Default)
 TLO banner

Prompt: Fake Dating
Rating: T, maybe M later
Squicks: Misunderstandings, loss of family, misunderstood intimacy
A/N: The prompt comes into play later; this is just the intro. :)

Part One || Part Two

#

They turned the formidable mansion upside down.
Closets, toy boxes, the garage, the guest rooms.
When Izuna arrived, he immediately double-checked them all himself, desperate to find her.
Madara, Tobirama, Izuna, Itachi—with Sasuke on his heels—even Hashirama who appeared when Tobirama didn’t arrive home when he was expected, they all searched the place top to bottom. The only rooms they ignored were the locked ones, as Sakura would not have been able to get in…
… unless she had a key.
Dashing back up the stairs, Madara raked his eyes over his desk.
The conservatory key was gone.

#
 
Madara flew down the stairs and shoved his way past the others who quickly fell in behind him, but he ignored them.
As expected, the conservatory doors were cracked open, just an inch. He yanked open the French doors and slowed, his shoulders sagging.
Locks of pink hair spilled over the cushion on the piano bench, and an old blanket was wrapped over the little bundle sleeping there.
“Sakura-chan!” gasped Sasuke, running over and shaking her. “You’re here!”
The little girl would have startled, but Madara was already beside her, a hand on her back.
“I’m home,” he murmured.

#

With the missing found, Hashirama drove home with Tobirama.
“You couldn’t have known,” assured Hashirama as the van rode along. “Madara didn’t even know.”
Tobirama, cheeks still burning from Izuna’s verbal lashes about not paying attention to his charges, ignored his brother’s comments.
“Did you want to know how the Battle went?” asked Hashirama, watching Tobirama out of the corner of his eye.
Tobirama shrugged.
Hashirama’s smile stretched. “First place. We’re getting a record deal!”
Tobirama gaped and he turned to stare at Hashirama. “Congratulations.”
“I want you to join us,” insisted Hashirama. “Madara’s asking Izuna, and—”
“No,” grit Tobirama.

#

That night, Sakura slept in Madara’s arms in the conservatory. Izuna covered them in a blanket and left them there when Sakura refused to let Madara go.
“Don’t let it become a habit,” warned Izuna.
“I know,” yawned Madara, exhausted. He’d been up since before the sun that day. He rubbed Sakura’s back as she clutched his t-shirt in her sleep.
“Maybe we should get her a pet, or a hobby,” mused Izuna.
“Good idea,” mumbled Madara, yawning. His jaw cracked and he slumped down on his back across a sofa.
“I’ll cover breakfast tomorrow morning,” offered Izuna.
“Ah…”

#

Tinkling notes chimed in Madara’s ears early the next morning and he yawned, turning onto his side. He was dreaming about his music in his sleep, now, it seemed…
There was a pause, a sour note, then the melody restarted, and Madara grinned. He often missed that note, it was a stretch… Even Sakura tapped his hand when he—
Madara’s eyes flickered open and he stared.
There, standing on the piano bench so she could reach the keys, was Sakura, still in her green nighty, playing his song, a few notes at a time.
His breath caught in his throat.

#

Seated beside Sakura on the piano bench as the sun streamed through the drapes, Madara appraised his young charge as her legs swung under her and she stared at her clasped hands.
“How long have you known how to do that?” he asked, amused.
She shrugged.
“Can you sing, too?”
She shrugged.
He tilted his head to the side. “You can sing with me. You can read the words on the page, can’t you?”
She shrugged… then nodded.
He smirked.
“Let’s start at the beginning.”
At that, she glanced up at him shyly, and lifted her hands to the keys.

#

At first he thought she had memorized the notes, the movement of his hands.
Then he changed the sheet music to a different song, and she scrunched up her eyes before playing—slowly, then with more confidence as the verse repeated itself.
And when she sang, her cute voice was soft, but grew in confidence as he joined her. She smiled at him as she sang along, even wiggling a little dance when he shifted in his own seat with the rhythm.
She could sing, and play. She enjoyed it, too.
But what blew his mind: she had perfect pitch.

#

When Itachi took Sasuke with him to his own music lessons, and Izuna was out at another practice, Madara looked down at Sakura and said, “Let’s get your homework and pencils. You can come to work with me, today.”
She cocked her head to the side, but went to gather up her bag with her homework, climbing up on a chair and getting snacks from the cupboard.
“You don’t need that many,” laughed Madara. “We’ll be back for supper.”
Sakura froze, her neck burning.
“I got some for you, too.”
His heart… 
“Then add twice as many,” he commanded kindly.

#
Sakura thereafter became a regular shadow at Madara’s side, everywhere. Whether it was dance choreography, band practice, recording sessions, she was present, watching with curious forest eyes as she sat on the ground, or on a chair, or a speaker while wearing industrial-strength ear defenders (Madara was adamant about her protection), listening and studying and learning, absorbing it all like a little sponge.
When there was extra time at the end of a recording session—miraculously—the band debated what to do, and Madara handed a pair of recording headphones to Sakura, which she donned and grinned at him.

#

Madara picked up a guitar and sat atop the speaker in front of Sakura, wearing another pair of recording headphones.
“Which one?” he asked, smiling at her.
“The sad one,” she said, excited.
“The sad one?” he asked, but she nodded. “Okay.”
He played a short intro before they began to sing together; around them the band noise dropped to nothing as his mates paused to listen and stare at them in wonder. Hashirama waved to the booth tech, who waved back with a thumbs up, indicating he was already recording.
—Outside the booth, a silver-haired recording exec paused.

#
TBC

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

Feb. 24th, 2023 09:13 pm
moor: picrew avatar by karameruya (Default)
TLO banner

Prompt: Fake Dating
Rating: T, maybe M later
Squicks: Misunderstandings, loss of family, misunderstood intimacy
A/N: The prompt comes into play later; this is just the intro. :)

# 

At four years old, Tobirama rubbed his sore eyes, frowning at his big brother.
“It’s late,” mumbled Tobirama, dragging his blankie behind him as he glowered at Hashirama in the dim light provided by the lamp above the keyboard. His little jaw cracked with his yawn. He’d heard Hashirama playing and followed the notes to the music room in their home.
Hashirama, age six, sat atop the stack of books piled upon the piano bench so he could reach the keys. He grinned at Tobirama and ruffled his hair.
“Go back to bed, Tobi. I’ll play with you later, promise.”

#

Ashen, Madara, age sixteen, looked down at the pathetic child gazing up at him with ancient, oak-leave eyes. She had no expression, yet she understood everything around her, he was sure. Seated on either side of her were his nephews, Itachi and Sasuke. They each held one of her tiny hands.
“You’re sure there’s no mistake,” he asked, trying and failing to maintain his composure. His sister, his brother-in-law…
“You’re their legal guardian now, as was laid out in their will; including little Sakura-chan, their adopted daughter.”
Madara swallowed, nodded. 
“Of course I accept,” he said.

#

Izuna had a late-night practice, damn it!
Madara had banked everything that week on Izuna being available. He dreaded leaving the children with someone they didn’t know, so soon after losing their parents. He wanted to be a steady presence for them, but he was stretched thin between school, the clan business, the kids and now, his music. 
All he’d wanted was a little time to himself, for the music…
He groaned, his elbows noisily came down on the keys of the piano and he held his face in his hands.
Peeking from behind the door, Sakura watched him.

#

Madara stiffened at the muffled shuffling behind him. 
The light over the piano cast the rest of the conservatory in shadow, leaving him alone at night to work—usually.
He turned back to the sheet music and added another note in the margin, picking up the melody where he’d left off. 
He started when a little tug on his shirt distracted his focus again. Behind him, a gasp had him turning. Sakura-chan, in her little nighty, slippers and blankie, watched him with wide eyes.
She glanced at the bench, and he sighed.
“C’mon up,” he lifted her. “But bedtime.”

#
 
His brow furrowed. No, it still wasn’t quite right…
Madara played the tune through again, more slowly.
Curled up into his side on the piano bench, as she always did at night now, Sakura listened quietly. Luckily, no one had noticed the cushion and extra blanket he’d brought into the music conservatory, to keep Sakura warm when she joined him there when she was supposed to be in bed. It had become their custom to sit while he played, and he carried her to bed when she drifted off.
He continued studying his original composition, while Sakura silently studied him.

#

“What do you mean, family responsibilities? Izuna can look after himself for a night. You promised you’d play in the Battle of the Bands this weekend, Madara. How am I supposed to find a replacement on short notice?”
As Madara explained, tight-lipped, Hashirama’s expression and heart crumbled. 
“I had no idea,” whispered Hashirama. He squeezed Madara’s shoulder. Madara had become head of his clan far too young, and now he was head of a family, too. Tragedy dogged his best friend’s every footstep. “Whatever you need, just ask.”
Madara huffed, rubbing his temple. “A babysitter.”
“… I have an idea…”

#

Tobirama and Izuna glared at each other across Madara’s front foyer.
This is a bad idea, thought Madara with a sinking feeling. But the weight of his promise, and guitar case, forced him to rely on Tobi to watch the younglings. He worried most about the one whose tiny fingers almost never left his.
“We must go out for a bit, so Tobirama will be looking after you,” explained Madara to Itachi, Sasuke and little Sakura-chan. “I’ll be back late.”
“You promise you’re coming back?”
Sakura’s shivery voice was tiny. He knelt in front of her, voice soft.
“Ah.”

#

Itachi was remarkably mature for his ten years, and Sasuke immediately trotted off after him when Itachi offered to make them some snacks. That left Tobirama and Izuna staring at each other while the last child curled up on the floor of the foyer, staring at the door, her tiny fists clenched tightly under her chin and bottom lip sucked into her mouth. 
“If you touch anything—,” began Izuna, stepping forward.
Tobirama ignored him; in the corner, those Old Soul forest eyes had filled with silent tears that leaked down her cheek.
“What is your name?” he asked her gently.

#

Her little hands clasped together, she stared at him, paling.
Izuna huffed but came to sit beside her.
“Her name is Sakura-chan. She only really speaks to Madara,” explained Izuna. He looked down at the little girl, his expression softening as he put an arm around her, gently. She snuggled into him. “She’s been through a lot.”
Tobirama stared at Izuna, at the protective note in his voice. 
“Sakura-chan, this is Tobirama. He’s going to take care of you tonight. Madara and I will be back as fast as we can, okay? You won’t be alone,” he promised.

#

Tobirama had no idea how to look after a little girl. Luckily, after Izuna left, it seemed Itachi did. So Tobirama spent his evening watching Itachi look after his younger siblings, ordering pizza and washing dishes while Itachi played games with them or read to them. Itachi told him that they had bathed before Madara left earlier that evening, allaying another fear.
“You didn’t even need me here,” noted Tobirama to Itachi.
“I’m not old enough to care for them alone,” said Itachi. “Not legally, yet.”
The responsibility in Itachi’s tone implied that he fully intended to do so, though.

#

Madara, elated and exhausted, arrived home after midnight. He found Tobirama sitting in the living room, on his phone. “How were they?” he asked, immediately scanning the room.
“You could have told me that Itachi would do all the work,” chastised Tobirama, though quietly so as not to wake the children.
Madara’s shoulders sagged. “He takes too much on. But understood. Thank you for staying with them. Did they all go to sleep?”
Tobirama nodded. “Sasuke snuck into Itachi’s bed, but Itachi didn’t mind.”
Madara nodded. “He does that. And Sakura-chan?”
“Sakura-chan’s gone,” gasped Itachi from the door.

#
TBC

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NARUTO: TobiSaku, KakaSaku - "There and Back Again 2" [Snippet]

Feb. 23rd, 2022 05:55 pm
moor: picrew avatar by karameruya (Default)
["There and Back Again" on AO3] 

Previous Snippets of "There and Back Again 2"
[29 Aug 2021]


( Sequel - Snippet )

TBC

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NARUTO: The Year Winter Followed Spring [Tobirama/Sakura] [Part Four]

Oct. 15th, 2021 10:57 pm
moor: picrew avatar by karameruya (Default)
A snippet of a WIP while I edit and finish writing it. Many, many thanks to [personal profile] sariasprincy  and [personal profile] mspixiepixie for their beta help! 

Based on an idea I started working on years ago that I picked up again recently. 

 Pairing: Tobirama/Sakura

Setting: Modern Fae-ish AU

Rating: M

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four]


( Read more... )
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NARUTO: The Year Winter Followed Spring [Tobirama/Sakura] [Part Three]

Sep. 8th, 2021 04:22 pm
moor: picrew avatar by karameruya (Default)
 A snippet of a WIP while I edit and finish writing it. Many, many thanks to [personal profile] sariasprincy  and [personal profile] mspixiepixie  for their beta help! 

Based on an idea I started working on years ago that I picked up again recently. 

 Pairing: Tobirama/Sakura

Setting: Modern Fae-ish AU

Rating: M

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three]

( Read more... )
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NARUTO: KakaSakuTobi - "There and Back Again 2" [Snippet]

Aug. 29th, 2021 05:37 pm
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NARUTO: The Year Winter Followed Spring [Tobirama/Sakura] [Part Two]

Aug. 29th, 2021 04:26 pm
moor: picrew avatar by karameruya (Default)

A snippet of a WIP while I edit and finish writing it. Many, many thanks to [personal profile] sariasprincy  and [personal profile] mspixiepixie  for their beta help! 

Based on an idea I started working on years ago that I picked up again recently. 

 Pairing: Tobirama/Sakura

Setting: Modern Fae-ish AU

Rating: T for now; M later

[Part One] [Part Two]

 

 When they entered Tobirama’s cabin, he closed the door behind them, shutting out the building winds. They had grown stronger as they left the escarpment and hiked deeper into the wood. They followed no visible trail that Sakura could see, but Tobirama knew the route well.

( The Year Winter Followed Spring [Part Two] )

*****

TBC
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NARUTO: The Year Winter Followed Spring [Tobirama/Sakura]

Aug. 20th, 2021 06:05 pm
moor: picrew avatar by karameruya (Default)

A snippet of a WIP while I edit and finish writing it. Many, many thanks to [personal profile] sariasprincy  and mspixiepixie for their beta help! 

Based on an idea I started working on years ago that I picked up again recently. 

 Pairing: Tobirama/Sakura

Setting: Modern Fae-ish AU

Rating: T for now; M later

 

 

( Read more... )
(TBC, because there's at least 25k more words of this written...)

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