here are the progress of this week. Since many people ask about the part2…here are the newly draw pages this week. YES it will be a serialize story. a light -hearted one I guess? after this wedge manga, I plan to show their mundane life with some serial short storys.
Warning - This fic will contain the following: blood, violence, gun violence, torture, manipulation, coercion, gore and graphic depictions of murder. If any of these are triggering or make you uncomfortable, please do not proceed. You have been warned.
Chapter One Prompt: Abducted
Of all the ways Sakura thought her Wednesday night would end, it was not like this. After getting out of a ten-hour trauma surgery, she had planned on pouring a large glass of wine, curling up on her sofa with a good book and falling asleep before finishing the first chapter. Not by being thrown into the back of an unknown town car by a bunch of rough-looking men.
They had grabbed her out of her own staff parking lot at the hospital, squishing her between them to keep her from trying to escape out the doors. She didn’t know who they were, but the handguns on their hips had kept her from asking from too many questions. They looked mean and ready to prove their strength at any given second.
The only thing that seemed to be keeping them back was the well-dressed and otherwise handsome man that sat across from them. He wore an expensive wristwatch and a tailored suit that wrapped around his lithe, and undoubtedly, strong body. He had dark eyes and a mane of dark hair that made his pale complexion even paler but no less stunning. Sakura had seen plenty of kidnapping stories on the news during her breaks on shift, but she was pretty sure kidnappers weren’t supposed to be this attractive. For some reason, that set her further on edge.
He had only glanced at her twice after her abduction, but he held himself with an air of confidence that made it clear that his word was the one that mattered.
Like a cornered animal, Sakura curled up in the center seat with her purse clutched to her chest. She tried to make herself as small as possible, as if they might forget she was there all together. No one had said a word to her since entering the car, except for the man on her right who had warned her only once to keep quiet. She was too frightened to disobey.
Her mind raced through the reasons of why she might be there. She had no family, no money. She was no one. Well, almost no one. She was the city hospital’s newest trauma surgeon. But she had no money for a ransom. She made a decent pay check, but the majority went to her medical school bills and insurance payments. She was comfortable, but not as well off as the man in front of her seemed to be.
The inside of the vehicle was silent as they drove, the roll of rubber against the road filling the quiet until they eventually arrived at the International District. The car slowed as they approached what appeared to be an abandoned fish market.
As soon as the car pulled to a stop, the driver hopped out and opened the back door. The man in charge exited first before the guards slipped out. When she made no move to follow, one reached back in and grabbed her wrist. Her survival instincts kicked in.
“No! Let me go!”
For a minute, she struggled with the man until he hauled her from the inside of the vehicle and slammed her back hard enough against the side of the car to nearly knock the breath from her lungs.
The man in charge stepped forward then, making a vague gesture to his man to release her. Still holding her purse to her chest, Sakura peered up at him, not sure if he was going to rape her or cut straight to just killing her. After all, she had seen most of it already in her new position at the hospital.
“Dr. Haruno,” he spoke, his voice calm in comparison to her frantically beating heart. “We require your presence. The more you cooperate, the easier this will be.”
Sakura gripped her purse tighter, as if that would protect her from what may happen next. “I don’t understand. What do you want with me?”
“Our intentions will be made clear soon. Please, come.”
It was clearly an order, but she still hesitated as her escort turned and made his way inside. At least until a guard grabbed the front of her jacket near her collar and yanked her off the car. Sakura’s struggles renewed, but she wasn’t given the opportunity to escape as her captors grabbed her by the arms and forcefully made her follow.
They dragged her through the empty fish market, the sour smell of old seafood flooding her nose and mouth, and into a large backroom that was perhaps bigger than the market itself. Like going through the wardrobe into Narnia, the guards forcefully pushed her into a well-furnished room with lush carpets and hardwood floors. There were expensive paintings on the wall and handcrafted wooden feet on the couches and armchairs.
Around a large, varnished table were a handful of men looking over something she couldn’t see. Everyone was seated, some with a glass of fine whiskey in their hands or cigars hanging from their mouths. The smell made her nose scrunch up.
On the far side of the room, a man was bent over the side of the couch. Whatever he was looking at she couldn’t see, but her attention turned as her escort approached another man.
The pair looked alike with their dark hair and even darker eyes. Even their high cheekbones and strong jawlines were similar. Perhaps an older cousin or brother. He was dressed just as finely, but there was an air of absolute authority and command about him that made even her escort look small. It seemed she had been wrong. Whoever he was, he was definitely in charge.
Without looking up from his phone, this new boss listened vaguely as her escort spoke in a murmured voice. Their conversation was indecipherable amongst the quiet chatter throughout the rest of the room, but her escort must have said something important for the man in charge glanced at him before turning his sights on her.
Sakura felt as if a set of crosshairs had just fixed upon her. A chill went down her spine, but she wasn’t given the chance to run before the guards shoved her forward until she was half-standing, half-cowering before this new boss.
“Dr. Haruno Sakura, I presume,” he said. His voice was smooth and easy as if he were discussing the full moon that were out tonight.
It made Sakura bristle and she glared up at him with more bravery than she actually felt. “Who the hell are you? And how dare you kidnap me on my very own hospital property.”
The man before her was hardly fazed by her tone. He simply inclined his head minutely. “I apologize. Where are my manners? My name is Madara. And this is my brother, Izuna,” he told her.
Her escort bowed his head slightly as if his politeness now would excuse his abrupt abduction of her only twenty minutes ago.
A scowl crossed her face. “What the hell do you want?”
“Simple really,” Madara said, turning away to approach a nearby dry sink bar. On one side was a crystal glass of whiskey that he unstoppered before he filled a pristine glass. Only once he had resealed the expensive liquor did he turn back to her. “I require your skill.”
Sakura blinked in bewilderment. “My skill?” she parroted.
“Your surgical ability,” he clarified.
“What about it?”
“It seems we had a small altercation this evening,” Madara told her before taking a sip. “The Senju are becoming quite an issue for us.”
Sakura said nothing, but her expression must have expressed her continued confusion. It was like he was speaking another language.
Madara simply gestured to her. “Come.”
Knowing she would be forced to follow either way, Sakura trailed some paces behind him, her eyes darting from his back to Izuna before returning to Madara again. He stopped in front of the couch, one hand in his pocket, the other lifting his drink to his lips before he gestured towards the couch with his whiskey.
“It seems my nephews, Itachi and Shisui, may have crossed paths with a less than amiable Senju tonight. Such aggressive, violent people. Shisui needs urgent medical attention.”
Now that she was standing before them, Sakura understood what was wrong. One man, apparently Shisui, was laying on the couch with blood gushing from a wound in his shoulder. It was hard to see the extent of the damage from where she stood, especially with Itachi pressing a bloodied towel to the area, but it was obvious the injury needed to be seen to immediately.
Then something crossed Sakura’s mind. Senju – she knew that name. She had heard it on the news and read about them in the newspaper whenever a violent crime had been committed within the city. There were only ever rumors, but Sakura had worked trauma in the city long enough to know there was an Underground that dealt in weapons, drugs and women.
If the Senju were Madara’s enemy, that would mean him and these men were of the Uchiha family. In other words, mafia. And Shisui was likely suffering from a bullet wound.
Her fingers itched to help him. Every nerve in her body was yelling at her to go assess the damage and fix it, but she was also aware the instant she touched him, she would be bound to these men. There would be no escape.
“I won’t do this,” Sakura said, her eyes still glued to the man bleeding on the couch. “I won’t get involved.”
Like someone had abruptly raised the needle on a record player, the room went utterly silent. Even the men around the polished table stopped what they were doing. The sudden stillness pressed down on her like a physical weight, forcing her heart into the pit of her stomach. She swallowed thickly as her eyes darted around the room. The hair on the back of her neck prickled when she found everyone was watching her, cigars and whiskey halfway to their mouths as they paused to see how this would play out.
Itachi, who was still bent over Shisui and applying pressure to his gunshot wound, was openly glaring at her. He looked as if he wanted nothing more than to hold her at gunpoint until she agreed to help. Which she realized was likely not far from the truth.
It was Madara who broke the silence. “I understand your reluctance,” he said, causing her gaze to flicker back to him abruptly.
Both his tone and expression were calm, almost friendly, but she got the distinct impression it was all a front. After all, this man was the head of one of the most dangerous mobs in the country. And he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
He stepped towards her, his black, perfectly polished, cap toe shoes clacking sharply against the hardwood floor. Each step was like a clock slowly ticking away the seconds left of her life, until Madara stood before her like Death himself.
Sakura shrunk under his towering form and gripped her purse tighter to her chest. He stood at least a head taller, forcing her to crane her neck back to meet his dark, obsidian gaze. He was a handsome man, at least a decade or more older than her, but the mild lines around his mouth and eyes only made her realize that as much violence as she had seen in her career, he had seen more. He had likely caused it too.
“I will only ask once,” Madara said calmly. “And you do not wish to know the consequences should you refuse.”
Sakura inhaled a silent but shaky breath as her gaze briefly returned to the bleeding man on the couch. His face was pinched in obvious pain, his complexion pale as he breathed through clenched teeth. Itachi was holding pressure to the wound, but his gaze was focused on her, his eyes sharp like he was just waiting for the order to kill her should she say no. Behind Madara, Izuna stood only a few feet away, a similar expression on his face.
She only had one choice.
Flickering her gaze back to Madara, she asked, her voice coming out with a small waver, “And what happens to me after I do as you ask?”
“That depends on the condition in which Shisui is in when you are finished.”
She didn’t have to ask to know what he meant. The only way she got out of this alive was if Shisui survived.
After a hesitation that seemed to stretch on for a lifetime, Sakura gave Madara a weak nod. "I’ll need some tools.”
Madara casually turned to Itachi then as if he hadn’t just threatened her very life. “Get Dr. Haruno what she needs. You will assist her as she sees fit.”
To her surprise, the glare was gone from Itachi’s face when she turned back to him. In fact, there was no emotion in his expression at all. She didn’t know which she preferred, but she wasn’t given the opportunity to decide before Madara turned and made his way towards a door in the back of the room, his expensive shoes clacking against the hardwood. He threw her one parting message over his shoulder.
“You better get started.”
xx
As quickly as the madness had begun, it ended. Sakura did what Madara had asked. She had dug the bullet out of Shisui’s arm and stitched him back together before starting him on a course of antibiotics. Then Madara’s men, this time with the absence of Izuna, had dropped her off on her apartment building’s doorstep as if nothing had ever happened.
That had been over a month ago.
Since then, Sakura had done her best to move on as if the incident had never happened. She went to work as usual before heading home, most of the time catching a ride with her best friend and fellow surgeon, Naruto. She doubted his presence would keep the mafia at bay, but she felt safer than when she was by herself. Still, she couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder, as if expecting to find a shadow everywhere she turned.
Tonight was an exception. Naruto had left for home some hours ago while Sakura stayed behind to review a case. She had a high-profile surgery tomorrow and the latest labs for her patient weren’t what she was hoping.
After ordering more tests and pushing more drugs, she finally got the results she wanted. Just in time for her to go home and catch a few hours of sleep before returning to the hospital in the morning.
Yawning, Sakura shrugged on her peacoat. She grabbed her purse from her locker before she closed it and left the quiet attendings’ lounge. There were a few messages waiting for her when she finally checked her device for the first time in hours, including one from Naruto asking if she was home yet.
Smiling faintly, Sakura shot him off a quick reply that she was on her way now. The rest of the messages could wait until later. She slipped her phone into her pocket before she searched for her car keys.
Only to halt abruptly halfway to her vehicle when she realized there was a shadow leaning against the back door. In the lighting of the parking lot, all she could see was a young man dressed in a nice suit with a flashy watch and curly hair.
Shisui.
Sakura didn’t wait to see if he noticed her. She turned sharply, about to escape back into the hospital, when she ran into a wall. No, not a wall. A firm chest.
“Going somewhere?” Itachi asked.
Sakura opened her mouth, but before she could cry for help, he clamped a strong hand over her lips and leaned down to whisper, “Scream and you will regret it.”
She got the vague impression he wanted nothing more than for her to give him an excuse, but she bit down on her tongue sharply even as she shrunk under his towering presence. He didn’t give her the chance to try anything else before a town car skidded to a stop beside them.
Itachi opened the door and shoved her inside without regard for her comfort. She nearly landed on her face, only just catching herself with her hands. Automatically, she scrambled for the door on the other side, but before she could reach it, Shisui opened it and slipped inside. She was effectively trapped.
Backpedaling, Sakura crawled into the corner of the back-facing bench. Neither Itachi nor Shisui paid her any mind as they settled in. As soon as their doors were closed, the car began to move.
Sakura didn’t bother asking questions. She suspected they were heading towards where they had taken her before. Once again, she pushed herself into the corner of the seat, hoping to make herself as small as possible.
Itachi didn’t even glance at her as he scrolled through his phone, his expression akin to boredom as if she was his annoying little sister his parents had made him pick up from school. Shisui, on the other hand, wouldn’t take his eyes off her.
His arms were crossed loosely over his chest as he chewed on a piece of gum slowly. She eyed him at first as she wondered how well his wound had healed. Then she noticed his expression. It was friendly enough, but she didn’t think she liked the way the corner of his mouth was curved into a hint of a smirk or how his gaze was just a little too unwavering. He didn’t even seem to blink.
Unconsciously, Sakura flinched and turned her sights out the window. The city passed by rapidly as the car flew down the highway. They took an exit into the downtown and drove through a number of winding streets until even Sakura didn’t know where they were. Eventually they pulled into a garage and parked the car.
Itachi and Shisui both exited. When Sakura didn’t immediately follow, she heard Itachi’s voice from outside, “You have three seconds to get out on your own or I will assist you.”
She didn’t wait for him to start counting. She hurried out of the car with her purse in hand. Itachi shot her a look as if to say ‘there, wasn’t that better?’ before he turned and continued further into the garage. A silent command for her to follow.
Swallowing, Sakura didn’t dare refuse him. She had felt the hard metal of his gun when she had body slammed into him in the hospital lot and she doubted he kept it on him just for show.
Now that she had a chance to look around, she realized they weren’t in a normal parking garage. It was a loading dock. Like the kind transport trucks and vans used to deliver shipments for the offices in the building. In the middle of the bay was a large area where trucks backed in to unload their shipments onto a higher platform before they were taken into the freight elevators.
Only there weren’t any vehicles now. Just two other town cars off to the side like the one she had been kidnapped in. Again.
In one of the parking stalls was a man bound to a chair. Another man stood over him, his knuckles bloody and torn from delivering blow after audible blow. Each smack made Sakura wince. She hoped with every fiber of her being that she wasn’t next.
A second man stood beside him, his hands less damaged, but blood speckled the front of his white shirt. She didn’t recognize either man, but a few paces behind them was Izuna.
He was watching the event take place before him with a passive expression, but it shifted slightly when he glanced up at the sound of their footsteps. He eyed Sakura silently before his gaze briefly flickered up to the unloading platform above them.
Sakura followed it to find Madara standing at the railing as he supervised. He looked like an emperor overseeing his subjects in his black, iron-pressed pants. He wore a matching black vest over a white button-up shirt. The suit of his jacket hung over his shoulders, his hands in his pockets.
The first time they had met, Madara’s arms had been covered. Now, the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up. His forearms were littered with tattoos. So much so that she couldn’t tell where one ended and another began. There was more ink than skin.
He was listening to one of his men speak a few paces behind him, but his dark, dark eyes tracked their movements as Sakura ascended the stairs with Itachi and Shisui at her heels. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, hoping no one would see how badly she was shaking. She had hoped after their last meeting, she would be left alone if she did her job well. She didn’t know what Madara wanted from her now.
As soon as they reached the top step, Madara dismissed his man. Sakura tried to swallow back her fear, but she knew even with his back turned Madara could sense it. He was like a shark who could smell blood in the water.
“Good evening, Dr. Haruno. I hope you had a pleasant trip,” Madara greeted.
There was a vague hint of friendliness in his tone as if he actually cared how her car ride was. It made her anger briefly overpower her terror.
“If you call being manhandled into the back of a car pleasant, then sure,” she retorted coolly.
For a moment, Sakura wondered if she had pushed him too far already with her sharp reply when Madara turned around. He seemed to scrutinize her before his eyes landed on the pair behind her.
“Gentleman, I thought I made it clear you were to treat the Doctor with respect,” he said. His tone was calm enough but there was a hint of ice that made the hair on the back of her neck prickle. And she wasn’t even on the receiving end.
Itachi’s glare burned a hole into her back, but she refused to look behind her.
“She was treated fairly enough, given her uncooperative behavior,” Itachi said indifferently.
Madara eyed them a moment before his gaze returned to her, his expression once more an apathetic mask. “My apologies, but we do in fact need your assistance once more this evening. There was a small incident an hour ago that we do not need to go into the details of. All you need to know is one of our men sustained a severe injury. He was stabbed in the abdomen with a blade.”
At the end of his assessment, Madara’s gaze turned towards the far side of the wall. Sakura followed it to find a group of men huddled together she hadn’t noticed until now. They were standing around a makeshift bed that consisted of an old table covered with moving pads. The top blanket was dark blue, but the side of it was stained almost black with what she could only guess was blood.
The doctor in her zoned in on the injury, trying to assess the damage from where she stood. From her distance, it was impossible to tell what condition the man was in. The only thing she was certain of was that he was much worse off than Shisui had been. This man was likely in critical condition. She would need more than just a couple of tools.
As if it had just occurred to her where she was, Sakura peered about the loading dock. It was dirty. And not just because the scent of blood lingered in the air. There were pools of stagnant water in the corners of the room, left over from the rainstorm the night before. Cockroaches scurried from one crate to another and everything seemed to be coated in a fine layer of dust. At least when she had stitched up Shisui, they had been in a cleaner environment.
Sakura shook her head in exasperation. “I work in a hospital with unlimited resources and equipment, and a team of trained staff. What exactly do you expect me to do here?”
When she turned back to Madara she found he was watching her with an utterly blank expression. He didn’t look angry, but she got the impression she would have to watch her tongue and how she addressed him in front of his subordinates more carefully moving forward. Lest she preferred being the city’s best dead trauma surgeon.
“I expect you to do your very best to save him,” Madara told her like a parent chiding their child.
Even though she wanted nothing more than to shrink away from his towering form, she couldn’t stop herself from frowning in frustration. “You said you would leave me alone after helping Shisui.”
“I said you would be released. Not that you wouldn’t be called upon in the future as our needs arise.”
Scraping together all the bravery she could muster, she shook her head. “I won’t do this again.”
Madara’s expression didn’t exactly change, but a shadow seemed to flicker behind his eyes like when a bird or airplane briefly flew in front of the sun. He said nothing, but a faint click from Itachi had her glancing over her shoulder.
He had drawn his gun. It wasn’t pointed at her, but the threat was clear. Far clearer than it had ever been before.
She clung to the last bit of her quickly dissolving courage as she returned her gaze to Madara. “If you kill me, he will die.”
Well eventually at least. If they hurried and got him to the hospital, he might still survive, but his chances were growing slimmer and slimmer with each passing second. They were wasting time. And Madara knew it.
“The same offer I provided to you with Shisui applies now,” he told her.
Meaning the only way she survived was if the man did too.
“And after that, you’ll leave me alone?” she asked, trying her best to keep her voice from wavering.
Perhaps she was pressing her luck, but if she didn’t stand her ground, these men would walk all over her. Some silent thought passed behind Madara’s eyes, but it was gone so quickly she wondered if she had imagined it. Then he gave her his ultimatum.
“If he survives, we can discuss it further.”
It wasn’t the answer she wanted, but it was all Madara was willing to give her at that time. She held his gaze for one moment that seemed to stretch on for hours and then another before she gave a silent but frustrated sigh and got to work.
Sakura didn’t know how long she stood over the man – the gangster – as she attempted to stem the bleeding. He had been stabbed in the upper right quadrant of the abdominal cavity. She knew for sure his liver had been nicked, but judging by his poor breathing, she suspected the lower portion of his lung had been pierced as well.
If she had an ultrasound or any medical piece of equipment other than a single scalpel and some crappy sutures, she might be able to save him, but as each second passed, she could feel his life slipping away. And with it, hers.
Another warm gush of blood slid down the back of Sakura’s hand and down her arm before collecting on the sleeve of her shirt. The material was dyed red, but the deep crimson turned it nearly black everywhere it touched.
She paid it no mind. Her entire focus centered on how she could possibly delay this man’s death. He had been in terrible agony when she had first started, but as the blood continued to stain her hands and the moving pad beneath him, he had quickly lost consciousness. She didn’t even know if he would want saving at this point. The muscles were sliced clean through, his liver had damage and she would be lucky to save his lung. His quality of life would be terrible. But she had to try. Because her life depended upon it too.
“Fuck,” Sakura cursed.
She grabbed a large wad of bandages from the little medical kit they had provided her and began shoving gauze inside the hole in the man’s chest. She didn’t know if they were sanitary at this point, but she was far past the ability to care. She had to do something to stop the bleeding.
“What the hell are you doing?” Shisui asked somewhere over her shoulder. She had been left in his and Itachi’s charge.
Sakura didn’t look up as she continued her work. “I’m packing the injury. This is beyond what I can do here. He needs a hospital.”
“That’s not an option.”
“That’s the only option if you want him to live!” she retorted.
Shisui might have said something else, but she was no longer listening for she glanced at her patient to find he was no longer breathing. Another long string of curses slipped between her lips before she placed her palms on the man’s chest and began compressions.
Somewhere very far in the back of her mind, she knew it was useless. But the louder, even more urgent voice yelled at her to keep going. If not for him, then for herself.
She put all her strength and energy into her compressions. She pushed down until his ribs cracked and his cartilage crunched beneath her hands. The seconds stretched onto minutes and the minutes into what felt like hours until Sakura’s arms ached. Her body quit before her mind gave the option.
Numb, her hands stilled over his chest. Her eyes drifted over the now-deceased man’s face. He was grey. Whatever blood might still be circling from her attempted CPR was pooling in his abdominal cavity and seeping through the gauze she had shoved into his side.
Utterly spent, Sakura stepped back from the table only for her knees to give out on her. She would have collapsed to the floor hard enough to bruise if it hadn’t been for the pair of hands that helped soften her fall. She didn’t know who it was. She didn’t dare look at them. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the man on the table.
He was dead. Which meant only one thing: she would follow shortly.
Sakura’s gaze dropped to her hands. They were stained crimson, wet and sticky, but they didn’t tremble. They never shook. No matter how stressed she was. And given the circumstances, she was under a great deal at the moment.
As soon as Madara learned of her failure, he would kill her. She wondered if he would be merciful with a simple bullet to the back of her skull; or would he make her suffer a slow, painful death before he dumped her in some ditch on the outskirts of town?
Sakura couldn’t move. She wondered if her body even remembered how to. She just sat there. It could have been a minute. It could have been a year. Then she heard the sharp clip of Madara’s exclusive, polished shoes. Her eyes didn’t leave her hands as he stopped a pace behind her. She barely dared to breathe as he delivered his verdict.
“Itachi, dispose of this,” he ordered. Then the longest pause in the world followed before he finally said, “Shisui…take her home.”
Amazed, Sakura turned her gaze up to Madara slowly as she tried to process if she had just heard him correctly. He simply stared down at her. His expression was utterly unreadable, but for a moment she thought she saw the slightest shift of something behind his eyes. She couldn’t be sure, but he turned and walked away before she could look closer.
Stunned, Sakura didn’t move as his footsteps faded away. She likely would have sat there forever had Shisui not finally reached down and helped her to her feet. The real world felt so far away. Like she was seeing everything through water. She barely remembered being guided into the car.
The next thing she knew, she was standing in front of her apartment door, her shirt and hands still stained with blood. Not even the hottest shower could seem to scrub it all away.
In the shadows of the deepest part of the city, there is a place not even Death dare lurks. That is where you can find him. The Mob Boss of the city. The man who controls everything. Including her very life. That is where you will find Uchiha Madara.
The long awaited chapter 2. Now that this story is becoming a small ficlet, I have renamed it to “Not the Only One”. Enjoy!
Chapter Two Into the City MadaSaku/TobiSaku
This was not supposed to be happening.
That single thought had rolled through Sakura’s mind many times in recent weeks, but never as strongly as in this moment.
From her place on the witness stand, she couldn’t hide from any eyes. Not the judge. Not the jury. Not the lawyers. Not Tobirama.
Not Madara.
He had always been a hard man to read. Even after nine years of marriage, there had still been moments when it was impossible to tell what was passing behind those black eyes. Like a statue sculpted from ice, Madara sat unmoving. The coldness he regarded her with was nothing she didn’t expect. Having disappeared on him nearly a year ago she hadn’t anticipated a warm welcome back. Even less so when her return had been prompted by a court subpoena.
“Answer the question, Miss Haruno,” the judge demanded.
Sakura didn’t blink. Her maiden name having become so familiar to her as the months passed since the divorce papers had been signed and mailed. Her identity returning to her.
“Miss Haruno, would you like me to repeat the question?” the prosecutor asked.
Even without looking at him, Sakura could feel Tobirama’s eyes on her. They had spoken a few times since that fateful day a year ago, but not about the reason she was here in court today. This had completely blindsided her.
“No, I heard you,” Sakura said, not quite coldly. But there was a bite of something in her tone. “You asked if I had even been aware of Madara embezzling funds from the Uchiha-Senju Corporate while married. My answer is no. Madara and I never discussed business when we were together.”
Calm and professional, Sakura answered the prosecutor’s questions. Her gaze never wavered from him as she spoke. Each question he asked attempted to chip away at her a little more. Break her down, destroy her testimony and her character. The demeaning questions, the lack of respect shown to her was obvious, even if he poised his questions in a seemingly innocent way.
“Let’s discuss your marriage, Miss Haruno,” he continued.
Sakura felt her spine stiffen defensively. “What about my marriage?”
“Was it happy? Were you happy?” he asked, his expression turning vaguely sympathetic.
She saw through his false sense of pity. “I fail to see what purpose that question serves,” she said, her gaze briefly flickering to the Judge.
The older man behind the high bench beside her looked ready to intervene, but the prosecutor stepped forward. “I promise my questioning has a reason, your Honor.”
The Judge looked doubtfully but he nodded nevertheless, silently granting his permission.
The prosecutor returned to her. “Miss Haruno?”
Sakura held his gaze for a long moment, weighing how much she could still conceal. How much of her dignity the courts would allow her to leave with. Her red lips twisted into an ironic smirk as she realized they intended to strip her down bare. Her eyes briefly dropped to her lap.
When she raised her gaze again, the look was gone. “Are you married, Mr…?”
“Tanaka,” the prosecutor provided. Then he smiled, “And yes, I am.”
“And is your wife happy?”
“She is. Very much so.”
Sakura simply eyed him. The prosecutor was in his late forties. He was dressed well in an expensive suit and a pair of shoes that gleamed in the bright courtroom lights. He obviously had a successful career with a hard-earned reputation. Tobirama and Hashirama wouldn’t have hired him otherwise.
“Are you certain?” Sakura asked, her voice soft, almost as if she were speaking to a lover. Still, it rang out clearly for everyone to hear. “You must spend plenty of late nights at the office. What time do you get home? Nine or ten? Maybe later? That gives her plenty of time to pay the bills, order the groceries, make dinner. Touch up her make-up after she realizes just how cold and lonely such a big house is. It only takes two hours for the swelling of her eyes to go down. After so much practice, a fake smile becomes her normal smile eventually.”
The following silence was echoing. The prosecutor eyed her for a long moment and she wondered if something she had said struck a nerve.
Then he swallowed and his expression cleared. “You left Mr. Uchiha quite suddenly, Miss Haruno. Why was that?”
That familiar feeling of betrayal rose within her as she recalled the night she realized Madara was having an affair. It burned within her, tearing open the old wound, but she kept her cool façade. Every eye rested on her. Their pressure almost physical as they all waited to hear what she would say.
None, however, was as penetrating as Madara. His stare was piercing. Like a physical weight, he held her in place.
Sakura purposely avoided his gaze. Some part of her still stung that he hadn’t come after her after she had left. She had sent the divorce papers and he had simply signed them. As if she had been nothing to him for last decade. That almost hurt more than the fact he had found another woman’s company more pleasurable than her own.
Still, Sakura held her strong guise. There wasn’t any question the lawyers could ask her that could make her feel small or insecure. She had felt plenty of that in the last year on her own. And she had worked hard enough to rebuild herself from nothing to fall back on those self-doubts.
“Because he was having an affair,” Sakura eventually answered, her voice threatening to waver.
Mr. Tanaka was either unmoved or unconcerned. “Not because Madara had asked you to move a large sum of money for him?”
“No,” she shook her head.
The questions turned less personal after that. The prosecutor wrapped up his questioning before the defense took their turn.
By the time the courts had let out nearly five hours later with the jury coming back with a guilty verdict against Madara on all counts, Sakura was exhausted. She had sat stone-faced through it all. Unmoving, she watched from the public benches behind the defense’s desk as Madara was escorted out of the courtroom. He was far too wealthy and held far too much power to be removed in handcuffs.
Still, Sakura’s heart felt like it was breaking all over again. For though they were divorced, Madara had been an important person to her for a big portion of her life. Someone she had planned on spending her life with, someone she had once thought would father her children. But that future no longer existed and that knowledge left a hollow ache in her heart.
“Sakura,” a voice called softly. She glanced at Shikamaru, her lawyer and longtime friend, as he squeezed her arm gently. “Are you ready?”
Pursing her lips, Sakura swallowed hard to keep her emotions from showing. She glanced back towards the courtroom doors as another attendee exited, allowing the loud chatter and flashes of photography from the press to slip through. The idea of having to push through another gauntlet of reporters made her stomach roll.
Automatically her gaze fell back to Madara, only he was already gone. She was alone. Just as she had been for these long months since leaving.
Inhaling a steady breath, she nodded. “Yeah.”
With Shikamaru at her side, Sakura pressed through the courtroom doors. Immediately, the press was on her, shoving microphones in her face and flashing her photograph. She kept her head held high, her mouth firmly pressed shut as she marched through the throngs until they reached the back of the courthouse where the reporters weren’t allowed.
Once the heavy doors had closed behind them, Shikamaru told her, “There will be a sentencing trial in a few weeks. The jury will decide Madara’s punishment then. You’re not required to be present, but if you want to go, let me know and I’ll accompany you.”
Sakura nodded numbly, her mind still reeling from everything that had happened that day. She didn’t know yet if she wanted to be there for that. To watch if Madara would not only lose everything he had worked for – and stolen – but potentially his freedom as well. It was all overwhelming.
However, before Sakura could begin to process everything, she heard the clack of expensive shoes echo on the tiles behind them. “Sakura,” someone called.
Both Sakura and Shikamaru glanced over their shoulders to find none other than Tobirama hurrying towards them. Hashirama and their lawyer, the asshole prosecutor, were a small distance behind him, their eyes tracking Tobirama’s movements as he descended the few steps that led to the courtyard and the private parking lot just beyond.
Upon sight of him, heartbreak and resentment swelled within her. She didn’t know if it was justified and frankly, it didn’t matter to her right now. He was one of the ones responsible for all of this. For Madara potentially going to prison, for tarnishing her name and leaving her feeling as if she had just run from home and her husband all over again. It left her with a strange conflict of emotions.
Without pause, Sakura continued on, pretending as if she hadn’t seen or heard him.
Tobirama’s pace increased. “Sakura, please wait.”
She was angry and hurt and upset, but even still, she found her pace slowing. If only because Tobirama had been the one to help her out nearly a year ago.
Beside her, Shikamaru’s hand slipped her to elbow. “I have to advise against you speaking to him,” he murmured in her ear.
She pursed her lips together before her gaze flickered up to meet his. “I know. Just give me two minutes.”
A frown crossed his face but he nodded minutely before he stepped away to a respectable distance. Sakura watched him go before she turned to meet Tobirama, her expression guarded and her shoulders stiff.
He stopped before her. He looked impeccable in a three-piece designer suit with gold cufflinks and a navy blue, silk tie. His white hair was pushed back away from his face, and though the trial had been in the headlines of the news for the last month, she couldn’t spot one line of stress on his handsome face.
“I’m sorry,” Tobirama said after he had caught up to her. “I didn’t want to drag you into this. This trial wasn’t supposed to involve you.”
“But I was involved,” Sakura retorted coolly. “My name has been dragged through the mud on every front page of every newspaper. My reputation has been shredded, my morals questioned and my career threatened.”
He shook his head. “I tried to talk my lawyer out of calling you to the stand. I never wanted any of this for you.”
Sakura laughed without humor. “But it still happened, didn’t it? After I left Madara, I had to work for everything. I built myself up and just when I thought I could move on, I get subpoenaed. The media has called me everything from a gold digger to a manipulative whore. I’ve been accused of marrying Madara for his money, using my body to steal tens of thousands from the corporation and then divorcing him once I got all the cash I needed. So tell me, what exactly did you think would happen to me when I get dragged into all of this?”
Tobirama didn’t immediately respond but the guilt was clearly visible in his face. It was enough that it looked like it physically pained him to hear everything she had gone through, but she didn’t feel any sympathy for him. In the end, she had suffered more than anyone. Even Madara hadn’t been slandered to nearly the same extent as her.
“I am so sorry, Sakura,” Tobirama murmured. He reached out towards her. “Please, tell me what I can do.”
As if he was poising to strike, Sakura flash-stepped back out of his reach, a threat and a warning apparent in her expression. “You can leave me alone,” she said, her words dripping with venom.
She didn’t miss the pained look in his expression before she turned her back and crossed the courtyard. Shikamaru followed behind, only briefly tossing a glance back at Tobirama before they headed towards their cars.
And as Sakura walked away, she pretended not to notice the pair of eyes that tracked her every movement until she was in her car and on the road, making her way back out of the city that had only ever chewed her up and spat her out.
Enjoy this art I made for @sariasprincy ‘s fic under the knife!! I was so inspired by that last chapter. This is such a refreshing fic with a mature couple. One of the best I have read! Please take a moment to read even if you aren’t multisaku . (The cursive is messy on purpose by the way like a doctors handwriting. Haha )
Under the Knife
Sariasprincy
Summary:
In the shadows of the deepest part of the city, there is a place not even Death dare lurks. That is where you can find him. The Mob Boss of the city. The man who controls everything. Including her very life. That is where you will find Uchiha Madara. [Mobster!Madara x Surgeon!Sakura]
This is just a quick, smutty oneshot, courtesy of the wonderful people on the ItaSaku discord chat. You can blame all of them for the creation of this.
I also wanna gift this to @kendochick-moor because I love that woman and she needs more love and appreciation! <3
Please mind the tags.
A Classic Mistake MadaSaku IzuSaku
Raising her glass to her lips, Sakura sipped her wine delicately. She rolled the full-bodied taste around on her tongue as she vaguely listened to the conversation happening beside her. A frown crossed her face when she tuned in to hear it was another topic she couldn’t care less about.
In all honesty, Sakura hated these types of gatherings; the business dinners that her husband insisted on organizing. She really didn’t mind that they were a part of his job. What she minded was that she seemed required to attend them with him. The men were interesting enough, but most of the wives were stay-at-home mothers who looked after the children. A job that was respectable in and of itself, but had little interest to Sakura who ran the entire Cardiac Department at the city hospital. She had more in common with the waiters than she did with these women.
Hiding her sigh behind her glass, Sakura’s eyes automatically fell to Madara where he sat across from her at the large, circular table. Her husband was dressed deliciously in a black-on-black suit and tie. He was already tall, dark and handsome, but the look only emphasized his stunning features. Madara was engaged in conversation with Izuna, his younger brother and business partner, and another man Sakura wasn’t well acquainted with, but her husband seemed to sense her stare for his dark eyes flickered towards her, a questioning but subtle arch to his brow.
She replied with a small roll of her eyes towards the women beside her, causing the corner of his mouth to quirk in amusement. He knew exactly how much she hated these things, but he shot her a look that promised if she behaved, he would reward her deliciously later that evening.
That single stare caused heat to pool low in her stomach and she sipped her wine again when she realized she was biting her lower lip with anticipation. Even after seven years of marriage, Madara never failed to make her come apart at the seams. Just the thought of what he might have in store for her later made her sex suddenly pulse between her legs.
The sudden spike of arousal made her entire body warm and a sly smile crossed her face. Madara was still watching her and the liquor in her system made her bold enough to flicker her eyes down towards the table before she met his gaze again. She knew he knew what she was implying. It wasn’t the first time Sakura had slipped under the table to pleasure him - hell, it wasn’t even the second time - and a flash of pure lust filled his gaze before the corner of his mouth curled briefly in approval.
Oh, this dinner had just taken a turn for the better.
As if nothing had happened, Madara’s attention returned to the conversation before him. It took a moment more for Sakura to peel her eyes away from her husband as heat throbbed between her legs. She could already feel the wetness gathering in her panties, but she hid her excitement as she drained the rest of her wine. All she needed was to wait for the perfect moment to slip beneath the table.
As if the gods were on her side, her opportunity arose less than ten minutes later. A busboy across the restaurant accidentally dropped a wine glass on the floor, causing the entire dining room to pause mid-conversation as heads turned abruptly towards the ringing of shatter glass. Without a single person noticing, Sakura slid beneath the table and behind the table cloth, concealing herself. A few moments later, chatter once again filled the room as diners returned to their meals.
When Madara had first told Sakura about the large dinner he had planned to discuss business, she had been slightly annoyed to hear it would be more than the usual couple or two. Now, she was grateful to have nearly twenty bodies around the large table. It made it easier to crawl to where her husband sat without worrying about accidentally bumping anyone.
It was a little dark with the tablecloth so low. The only light that came in was around the legs of the guests and near the hardwood floor, forcing her to navigate through the semi-darkness. It took Sakura a few minutes to silently crawl her way to where Madara sat to ensure she didn’t draw anyone’s attention, but it only added to her arousal. The anticipation of what she was about to do sat heavily in the pit of her stomach and the possibility of getting caught made the space between her legs throb with desperate desire.
When Sakura finally reached Madara, his legs were stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. She touched him just below his pant leg to let him know she was there, her grip tightening slightly when he jerked in start. When he fell still again, she caressed the muscles of his calves over his suit before she gripped him by the ankles and spread his legs until she could settle between them.
A wicked smirk crossed her lips as she smoothed her palms up his legs and between the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. He jerked slightly again at the sensation and her grip tightened briefly before she reached up to palm him through his slacks. Already she could feel the bulge growing there and pride flooded through her at being able to get such a response with so little touch.
Above her, she could hear Madara’s smooth voice as he replied to the client he and Izuna had been speaking with. She didn’t know what they were negotiating but she loved the easy rumble of Madara’s voice. Maybe his tone didn’t give any indication of what she was doing to him, but she knew he wasn’t unaffected judging by the hardness growing beneath her hand.
Taking some pity on him, Sakura stopped her teasing. She popped the button of his pants open and drew the zipper down before she slipped her fingers into his boxers. He was already rock hard and her mouth watered at the musky scent that reached her nose.
Unable to resist, she blew against his erection, causing his member to twitch and harden further before she flicked her tongue against the head. His hips shifted restlessly as she played with him, her hand pumping him at the base while she licked away the precum that leaked out of the tip. She knew her teasing would earn her a punishment later, but she couldn’t resist playing with him for a few more minutes before she finally took pity on him and took him into her mouth.
His response was subtle but immediate. His hips shifted as he adjusted in his chair. She knew it was hard for him to just sit there and let her pleasure him without his direction but it was also one of her favorite kinds of foreplay. The power she held over him at that moment was rare and intoxicating, and she swallowed him deeper until her nose brushed the hair at the base of his length and his tip hit the back of her throat. She held herself there for a second and then another before she slowly withdrew, trying to be as silent as possible.
Beneath her touch, Sakura could feel Madara fighting against the urge to buck his hips up into her, to tangle both hands into her hair and fuck her mouth like he wanted to. He wanted it so bad she could nearly feel his body shaking with the effort to not react.
Sakura nearly jumped when she felt fingers suddenly slide into her hair, but she relaxed after a moment as he took control. With Madara’s guidance, she bobbed her head up and down until his fingers eventually tightened in her hair. He forced his length down her throat before he held her there a moment before warm, stickiness flooded her mouth. She swallowed all of it, her hands tightening on his thighs as she struggled not to choke on the thick load before he finally released his unbreakable grip.
She pulled back slowly, ensuring nothing would spill on her dress or his pants before she sucked in a much needed breath. She made sure to clean him slowly, a smirk crossing her lips when he twitched.
Pride filled her. She couldn’t remember a time she had made Madara come so fast. He must have been craving her just as much as she did for him if the amount he had spilled was anything to go by. Heat still pulsed between her legs and she wanted nothing more to bury her fingers between her folds but she knew the wait tonight would be worth it. She just needed to be patient.
After tucking Madara back in, Sakura made her way back to her seat. She waited until the wait staff had finished talking to the women seated beside her before she slipped back into her spot, like nothing had ever happened.
Across from her, Madara and Izuna were still seated in their chairs. The man they had been discussing business with was no longer there, leaving the brothers alone. She met her husband’s gaze before she wiped the corner of her mouth seductively.
Madara only stared back, his piercing eyes utterly unwavering.
It was then that Sakura realized Izuna was staring at her too. The world’s longest second passed as her mind caught up with what her eyes were telling her. The anger and disbelief in Madara’s gaze, Izuna’s incredulous but sated expression. She counted the chairs again before reality hit her like a freight train. It stole her breath and knocked the world out from under her feet.
For it hadn’t been her husband she had just blown and given him a mindblowing orgasm. It had been his brother.
