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A Living Secret	By : viridianglare Category: Naruto > General Views: 3159 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Naruto anime/manga/franchise and do not make money from this work.

Chapter List
- 1-results
- 2-exchange
- 3-seed
- 4-public
- 5-foundations
- 6-resolve
- 7-trust
- 3
- 4
- 5
Sarada and Sakura ran together silently for an hour through the woods before Sarada finally asked what was burning on her mind.
“Why?”
Sakura glanced at her daughter, brows drawn together, and then looked forward again as they ran. “Why what?”
“Why is he not with us?”
Sakura’s lips tightened, and Sarada knew she was pushing a sensitive topic, but she pressed further anyway. “You guys were --- you were happy, back there.”
Sakura’s face reddened and she kept her eyes forward. They slowed as Konoha came into view and Sarada pressed again. “Clearly you care for him a lot and it looked very mutual. Why did you never tell me until now? Why is he hiding out in the woods? How did he end up being my father, I thought he died in the war? How did you guys---”
“Sarada,” Sakura hissed as they walked within earshot of the gate, “No more questions. We’ll talk later.”
“But you said that last time,” she answered her mother softly as she followed her back into the village.

Sakura managed to maintain a pleasant demeanour as she and Sarada settled down with some of her friends at the outdoor table of one of the busier ramen restaurants. She could not help but to despair within herself. While Ino across from her launched into telling a raucous story to the group, Sakura closed her eyes and breathed for a moment in an effort to calm herself down.
The setting sun painted everything gold; the light shifted and shone pure from the skies that bled sienna-gold. She felt her heart dripping out from her chest and onto the table, mixing with the sunlight and melting her pain until it dripped through her entire being.
Why is he not with us? Sarada’s earlier question echoed in her mind, and as Sakura opened her eyes, she saw the question still there in her daughter’s frown. Sakura looked away, out at the main street that their table bordered. She remembered Madara’s stricken expression when she had hinted that perhaps they could have that ideal life, and she covered her face with her hands. I embarrassed myself in front of him again. I’m such a fool. Her fingers tightened as her skin heated. Did I really think that Madara could change from what he used to be like, that he would give any thought to… She forced herself to think the word. To settling.
Sakura snorted into her hands, and she felt Ino kick her with a boot under the table at the interruption of her ongoing story. Sakura sighed and ran her fingers up her face into her hair, her stomach nauseous from the way her heart wrung itself repeatedly, bleeding out more thoughts.
Settling.
Is that what she had been implying? Sakura could feel his hand on her side again, remembered the battered banner drifting quietly against the far wall of the dark room. Madara had already lived several lifetimes and was somehow here again, now apparently without purpose. As far as she knew he had never settled, never for long, and had never bothered with domestic life. Sakura cringed deeper into herself, her chest hunching against the table. His stricken expression replayed in her mind and she tried not to hunch so far that she became part of the table as she dared to wonder what he had thought she had meant. I’m fool enough that I had his child. I should have known better than to go back and hope for more. Her cringe deepened further and her nails dug into her scalp through her hair. For kami’s sake he’s Madara Fucking Uchiha, what am I doing?
She listened to Ino talking next to her then, desperate for a distraction. “And then Sai drew me like that. Yes… and guess what he added into the background? You should have…” Ino trailed off, and Sakura waited behind her hands that covered her face for what was next. A shocking joke too inappropriate for her twelve-year old to hear? A brag about her figure? She sighed against her hands, and the sound felt loud as the quiet spread around her.
The silence deepened, and Sakura heard a distant clinking of metal plates. Its sound was too distinct, too unforgettable, and her throat seized with her shock.
Slowly her hands slid down from her face, and Sakura’s eyes opened as her ears tingled with the sound. All eyes at the table were fixed on something behind her and she turned on the bench, her blood burning in her veins.
Red-painted metal armor plates scraped and tapped against each other as Madara Uchiha walked down the main Konoha street, black mane streaming out behind him, his figure glinting with the setting sun. His dark eyes swept around the streets, and anyone his gaze touched looked quickly down - except for Sakura, who held her eyes steadily to his as his gaze found her.
She got slowly to her feet as everyone’s attention shifted between her and Madara. She remained where she stood; he stopped a foot from her, dark eyes never moving from hers. All around them heads emerged from windows and doors, and like a forest of leaves cut from their branches, whispers rose from the village around them.
Madara extended an arm, and she took it, the smallest smile touching the corner of her mouth as her hand curled around his elbow. Wide eyes all around them blinked with increasing shock as they walked together down the street, the whispers around the pair turning to hushed, urgent talking. Sarada tentatively followed them several feet behind, watching how the village around them was bristling with shock. She could feel the vibes of fear and panic that were beginning to rise, and she was uneasy from the eyes that moved between Sakura and Madara to her.
They walked down the street toward Sakura’s home. Sarada thought she saw an envoy of Anbu guards flitting over the rooftops toward the Hokage tower, and she knew that the entire village was already hearing about this. When they reached the little house, the dying light flashing off Madara’s armor, Sakura shifted to face him.
He bent forward, looming over her, and his hair curtained their faces. Sarada looked away and she saw a group of Hidden Leaf nin approaching them. Sarada coughed in warning but they had already ended their moment, looking toward the group as Madara moved an arm around Sakura’s side. They watched calmly as the group slowed about fifty feet out, moving cautiously closer, and Sarada spotted some familiar faces -- Naruto, Kakashi, Sasuke, even Tsunade. They were tensed as if ready for a fight and Sarada swallowed as fear prickled through her.
“Sarada,” and she turned at the sound of her mother’s voice, “You should go in the house. We won’t be long.”
She nodded eagerly and ran toward the house, peeking out from one of the windows as she watched.

Sakura’s hand drew up along Madara’s side as the group approached, and she could feel how relaxed he was at the approach of her comrades. She was still processing his very public approach, and didn’t know what she would say to them; she glanced up at Madara. He watched her comrades stop a few feet from them with a mildly bored expression, his gloved hand light on Sakura’s waist.
“Madara Uchiha,” spat Tsunade as she stepped forward. “What the hell are you doing? How the hell are you alive?”
“I was simply enjoying an evening stroll with Sakura,” he stated, dropping any kind of honorific from her name. Her fingers tightened in the fabric along his waist as she watched the people she loved process how much that in itself said about their intimacy as Madara continued. His eye that was not covered by his wild black mane shifted tiredly across the group. “Hmm. I’ve met you all before. You, the Senju descendant; you, the jinchūriki... Hmm. Hatake Kakashi, formerly of the Sharingan.” He smiled slightly, dark eye flashing; Sakura winced, remembering that Madara was the one who had stolen that Sharingan many years before.
Then his attention moved finally to Sasuke. “Ahh. ‘The Last Uchiha.’” The irony of Madara’s last comment rippled through all of them, and Sakura’s face burned another shade of red.
“Get your hands off of her!” Naruto shouted, barely held back by Sasuke and Kakashi. Madara raised a brow and tightened his hold on Sakura. She coughed as she prepared to speak, and sweat beaded on her forehead as all eyes shifted to her. “I… he’s fine,” she explained lamely, her face turning red. “He’s not gonna… you know… kill everyone.”
There was a pause, and then she coughed uncomfortably again. “And, I, uh, he’s right that we were just… Just walking, and we can all talk later!”
She burned redder as Madara’s amused eye blinked down at her; his gloved hand squeezed her side and she resisted the urge to bury her face in his shoulder to hide from the slack-jawed stares around her. All eyes were on his hand, and then on her; then at the way they were standing close together, her barely hidden fingers splayed on his lower back.
Kakashi was the quickest mind among them and she saw his face grow pale; his gaze flicked to Sarada’s distant face that was pressed up against the window. Sakura gave him a subtle beseeching look, knowing he was the best at reading and understanding her slightest expressions, and he looked away from her. He did not enlighten the group around them of what he had just learned, and she felt grateful and guilty at the same time.
“Come,” Madara said to her then, turning them both as they moved away from the tense group and toward the house.
“Sakura,” came Tsunade’s thundering tone, and Sakura tensed as she glanced back from Madara’s side to look at her. “Do you have any idea who this man is? Do you know what you are doing?”
“Yes,” she said softly, and she kept her trembling hand on Madara’s back that was now visible to everyone as she pushed open her front door and entered the house, the door swinging shut behind her and Madara with finality.
Her breath was shaky as she let out a long exhale and looked up at him. “That was rough.”
“Really? I thought it went fine.” He lowered his smirk to her cheek and lifted his hand to her face a moment before turning toward the kitchen and looking around, metal plates of his armor scraping as he did so.
She shrugged off her pouch and tried not to think about that promised future talk with her teammates and mentors as she took off her shoes and stepped into the kitchen, soothing her nerves with the familiar routine of making tea. She kept her eye on Madara as he looked around, bored eyes sweeping over the immaculate surfaces and occasional vases of flowers from Ino’s shop. He reached out and picked up a discarded brown package from the trash can, curious fingers drawing out the kit inside it and reading the slip of paper that he found within it. They both heard Sarada squeak from a different room as she saw Madara discover the DNA testing kit, and she ran over to him. “Wait! Don’t…”
He regarded the girl with a mildly amused expression. “Yes?”
She blushed and looked away. “Too late, I guess. It’s nothing you didn’t already know now.” She ran upstairs, and Sakura shook her head as she poured tea into two cups. “That’s how she found out,” she commented, handing Madara a cup. He hmmed at the test results slip, slipping it into his pocket, and together they moved into the living room. He sat down in the armchair, armor clinking loudly, and took a sip. He looked at her with a slightly tilted head and Sakura tried not to laugh at the absurd image of the fully-armored Madara leaning in her armchair that barely fit his large frame. “It’s what tipped her off that Sasuke’s not her dad. It doesn’t obviously say that it’s you, just that it’s not him.”
Madara rolled his eye, draining his cup and setting it down. “Yes, I gathered that. But what inspired her to test the theory?”
Sakura tapped her mouth with a hand. “I’m not sure. I’m fairly certain it is just a trend among kids right now.”
There was a smirk at Madara’s lips then and he leaned back in the chair, arms stretching behind his head. “Well you certainly won’t be the only parent having hard talks with their kids then. You’re not the only one in this village with secrets.”
Their eyes met as he said this and she swallowed. “Madara,” she began, taking in a breath and gathering her courage, “I’m sorry I… ran off, all those years ago. I know I should have told you about her so much sooner.” She closed her eyes, a sigh exhaling from her nose, and he was silent beside her as he awaited the rest of her thought, which came out of her lips barely above a murmur. “I was afraid.”
“Afraid?”
She looked at Madara. He had leaned forward and was as relaxed as ever, watching her over folded hands. “Why? I’ve never seen you fear me.”
A warm memory bloomed from within her depths. She knew he was referring to her bold hostility and refusal to run on the night they had met again; the recalled memory nestled into her head, whispering heat into her ears and sinking through her body slowly. She had indeed shown no fear then, and her mind replayed in a flash how her fear had unfolded into passion. She had run at him without fear during the war as well though that had not resulted in Sarada.
Sakura shivered slightly and raised a hand to tuck her hair behind her now-reddened ear. She looked away from him again, gathering her thoughts back up. “That’s true, but that was before I realized I was pregnant. I know you, Madara, but not so well that I could predict your reaction to being surprised with a child.” She moved her hand to cover her eyes. “And I didn’t think you would find our three-day dalliance meaningful enough to take me seriously anyway.”
“Hn.” Sakura moved a finger aside to peek at him. He was leaning on an elbow, looking out at the unlit fireplace. She wanted to reach out, but she felt too vulnerable now. “What… what is your answer, Madara?”
The dark eye slid back to her, and she leaned forward on her knees, letting her hand fall from her eyes. She waited with a pounding heart, her tea growing cold on the table, pulse racing faster for each second he did not reply.
“I thought you already knew.”
She swallowed. “Well…”
“You women always need us to spell things out that are already so clear.”
Sakura almost spit out the tea that she was finally taking a sip of and shot him a glare. “Excuse me?”
“I mean that I already gave you my answer, Sakura.” Madara examined the teacup tiredly and then regarded her with a grim expression. “Was announcing my presence to the entirety of Konoha with you on my arm not enough?”
Sakura smiled slightly, looking out the window at the quietly shifting night woods. Her mind would replay the image of him approaching her for all the world to see forever. “It was, and it was a spectacular way for you to scare the living hell out of everyone in Konoha.” She eyed him playfully then, and Madara’s eye crinkled slightly; she felt her chest clench unexpectedly and she got to her feet, taking their empty cups and moving with silent bare feet into the kitchen. She needed a moment to clear her head before she said anything more.
Sakura’s green eye settled on the wild black mass of hair running down from the armchair, its ends brushing along the floor. What do I want? she asked herself.
As for what she needed, she already knew. Sarada needs a father in her life. Her eyes touched dubiously along his red-plated armor, and then back to her cups in her hands as she washed them in the sink. Even if he won’t know what he’s doing for a while. Sakura was mildly horrified at herself as she recalled what she’d learned as a girl in school about Madara - he had never had a wife or children, and no public lovers that were ever recorded. As far as Sakura knew, Sarada was his first direct descendant.
She felt an odd glow of pride as she set the clean cups on the rack and dried her hands. It skewed into a thought that made her ears heat, and she heard Ino in her head teasing her already. You bedded an old man, though he’s a badass. She covered her face and tried to shove her best friend out of her head, but she was insistent. Sarada’s the first kid of one of the world’s strongest and most terrifying shinobi of all time, and as if that’s not enough, she’s your kid as well. She’s going to be freakishly strong someday. Sakura froze at the word first as it plunked again through her mind.
“You think too much,” she heard Madara in the living room, and Sakura’s mental Ino dissipated as she turned with a blush to see him getting to his feet. His hulking form nearly brushed the ceiling as he walked up to her in the kitchen, a gloved hand taking her chin and tilting her face to look up at him. “Don’t hurt yourself with all that pondering.” His black iris gleamed, and she moved her hand over his on her chin, feeling her apprehensions melting away.
“You don’t think enough,” she muttered then as he dropped a kiss to her jaw; she quickly felt her thoughts fluttering out the window as his other hand slid along her waist, her nose filling with his familiar warm scents of wood-ash and spices that mixed with the steel tang of his armor. “Hmm. Now that’s not true.” Madara pressed her against the counter and Sakura gripped his collar, her blood pulsing from his rumbling tone, trying not to lose her will to finish their conversation verbally as she looked with a serious frown into his face. “Tell me what we’re doing to do,” she said then, green eyes challenging him.
He raised a brow and then sighed, knowing she was not referring to the immediate present, but the future. “What was it I said about spelling things out to you?” She reddened, but didn’t look away from him, making it clear that she wanted to know.
“Well, we’re not going to live here.” Madara sent a bored glance around the small house and Sakura’s face grew slack as he continued. “Obviously the Uchiha compound. I’d imagine it won’t take long to make those and a few other arrangements. And I suppose we’ll have to address the issue of Konoha’s hostility toward me as well… but we’ll deal with that tomorrow.” He noticed her burning tomato-red face and raised his brows. “Are you all right?”
Sakura swallowed, rubbing at her cheek to rid herself of her blush unsuccessfully. “We… we what?”
Madara’s intense gaze was unwavering on her. “You heard me right.”
“But… but that would mean we…” Sakura shifted her feet from side to side and dashed her eyes to his collar where her hands gripped him loosely. Her hand shifted to his sides and her fingertips tingled. “... would wed?” Her heart thudded in her ears loud enough that she almost didn’t hear his responding rumble. “Well, naturally. Is that a problem?”
“Who are you?” She curled her arms around his body and pressed her burning face against his neck, his long hair shrouding her from the world around them. The way he had casually dropped such a heavy yet strangely liberating future into her mind had stunned her, and she took a moment to recover herself as she continued, appreciating again the way he was patient for her to catch up. “It’s… it’s not a problem.” Sakura smiled into the dark fabric of his collar. “Is that some kind of proposal? I’m surprised you want that after… what, four days being with me?”
“With twelve years between.” She felt his pointed nose bury in her hair. “I don’t find it surprising. My ambitions did not come fully to fruition the way that I had thought they would, and I didn’t think I’d get another chance at life like this.” The nose shifted and his hand came up to curl around her head. “I’ve had several lifetimes to decide what I do and do not want, Sakura. That, and having Sarada around speeds things up a bit.”
Sakura pulled back to stare up at him; Madara’s small smile was wistful. She had no more words then; enough had been said. She pulled her hands up through his hair and tugged him down to her; she met no resistance, and their lips melded together. Her fingers wound through the tangled mane, her leg dragging up his side, and he lifted her onto the counter, gloved hands on her waist moving up to her jacket collar and tugging it aside to reveal her throat. He bent and placed a kiss at the hollow of her neck and she let out a shaky breath into his hair; Sakura’s eyes grew lidded as he moved his mouth along her shoulder and back up to her face. Then he pulled back, smirking at her expression; Sakura hopped off the counter with an embarrassed huff and then gently pushed him. Madara glanced over at the stairs, where they could hear Sarada humming in her bedroom; then he looked back at Sakura, shaking his head, and she buried her face in her hands.
“There will be many benefits to living in a larger home.” His hand patted condescendingly on her shoulder and Sakura glared at Madara. “Tease.”
His smirk remained as he shifted toward the stairs, one hand reaching backward for Sakura to take. She slipped her fingers through his and allowed herself to be led upstairs and down the hall to her own room, and she closed the door behind them. Then she reached out and pulled Madara back to her, her nimble fingers removing each piece of his armor. He shrugged them off and then turned toward the bed, regarding it with a moody expression. Sakura snorted as she slipped into the covers, amused at his silent judgement of the small mattress.
“I won’t fit in this tiny bed,” Madara griped as he settled in behind her, pulling the comforter over them both; it covered perhaps two-thirds of him, long legs sticking out over the end of the bed and his mass of hair covering her like a blanket in itself. Sakura turned over and nestled herself into his side, shifting aside a lock of his hair from her face so she could see him. “You’ll live.”
Madara’s lips pressed together in an expression of skin-deep annoyance at the irony in her words, and Sakura smiled into his skin as he pulled her against his side. Sleep came for her softly; as she let the darkness overtake her completely, she felt the years between the present and the last time they had laid like this melt away and entwine as she fell asleep in his arms.
- 3
- 4
- 5
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A Living Secret