Chapter 6

Sakura bowed politely to the two plumbers that'd been in her apartment and watched as they left. When the door shut behind them, she sighed defeatedly and looked around. A pipe in the ceiling above her living room had burst a few hours ago. It'd scared the hell out of her because she'd been in her bedroom, thinking someone was breaking in to murder her.

Most of her books and study materials were soaking wet. The carpet and furniture were ruined. The office manager already wrote her a check to cover the cost of removing and replacing them, but the plumbers just informed her it'll take eight to ten days to finish the repairs.

'I can't stay here. They said it's dangerous to be around the chemicals they'll be using for long periods of time.'

Sasuke and Naruto were on a school trip to Iwagakure to job shadow their police officers as part of their studies. Even if that weren't the case, she'd never ask to stay with them.

Frustrated, she stomped over to Madara's apartment and knocked loudly on the door. It was nighttime, but she heard him return home half an hour ago. The man answered the door and looked behind her as though expecting her to have company, "Why are you knocking like you're the cops?"

She rolled her eyes, slipping under his arm and into his apartment to throw herself lazily onto his sofa.

"Please, make yourself at home," the Uchiha man mumbled sarcastically.

"I have a huge favor to ask," Sakura wasn't comfortable with this, but if Madara found out she needed help again and didn't ask him again, he'd be upset.

The man grabbed two beers from the fridge, handing one to her and moving her legs so he could sit, laying them down across his lap once he was, "Shoot."

'Geez, we've really gotten comfortable around each other lately,' she mused with a small smile.

"A pipe burst at my place, and they said it's gonna take up to ten days to fix. Is it alright if I steal your couch? I'll pay half of your rent!"

The woman held her breath while awaiting his response, but she shouldn't have been nervous at all because he chuckled, "You're over here almost every day to use my TV anyway. Don't worry about it."

A happy little hum vibrated her chest, and she sat up, grinning wide, "How about this, then? I'll cook and clean while I'm here."

Madara's eyes were warm as he watched her toss her head back and drink a good portion of her beer, "Deal."

Within the next hour, Sakura retrieved her school books and supplies, laid them on the floor, and dried them with a blow drier. She'd also grabbed some clothes and toiletries so she wouldn't have to keep going back over there. The Uchiha man had gone to the store to buy more beer because he didn't know she'd come over and steal half of it.

When she was sure she couldn't do anything else, primarily because her arms were killing her, Sakura clicked off the tool and fell back to lie on the floor, her legs still crossed, with a groan.

"Sakura."

She opened her eyes to stare at the ceiling, "Madara."

"Do you want me to do your back again?"

The woman's face warmed, and she sat up, twisting her torso to narrow her eyes at the man lounging on the sofa with his phone in his hand, "It's been almost a week. Why now?"

Dark eyes pulled away from the device to land on her, "I haven't seen it since then. It's still dark."

She gritted her teeth for a moment but gave in, "Alright, but let me shower first."

Once the door to his bathroom was latched behind her, Sakura looked up at the ceiling as though God was up there, and she wanted him to explain why he kept testing her.

'How is he so calm all the time? I turn red at the easiest things, but he hasn't blushed once since we met…. Maybe he isn't attracted to me. That's it! He sees me as a friend or sister. No wonder he's never flustered,' Sakura's mind jumped from one conclusion to the next.

While knowing he doesn't feel tempted around her is disappointing, at least it'll help her keep calm going forward.

~

'Why did you ask? She probably thinks you're being creepy!' Madara stared at the open books lined up in rows on his living room floor, mentally chastising himself for having no self-control.

When Sakura asked if she could crash at his place for the next ten days, his mood elevated through the roof. He somehow managed to keep it together and reply smoothly, but inside, he was fighting a war against himself.

If she's here at all times, it's going to be exhausting to keep his composure. He can't slip up even once, or else she'll realize he wants something from her he'll never deserve. This was the first time in his life that he was attracted to someone in more than a superficial way. She's undoubtedly cute, but knowing she's genuinely a caring and passionate person elevates the charm. Madara's in a situation he's never experienced before, and that put him on edge.

'She's going through something traumatic with her ex right now, and you have Danzo's work to worry about, too. The timing's not right. Don't be selfish for once.'

That's right. He agreed to let her stay here because she's his precious friend, and that's what friends do for one another. She trusts him, and thinking of her as anything else is a betrayal of that trust. Telling her she needed to let him help her with the ointment for her back was selfish because he only asked for an excuse to touch her again.

What was he supposed to do, though?

She was sitting there in a tank top and shorts, her pastel hair falling over her shoulders as she leaned forward to dry her books. He wasn't used to seeing so much of her skin, minus the time she drunkenly took her clothes off, and he forced her to wear one of his shirts for his own sanity. For the most part, he'd managed to keep his eyes averted that night as a show of respect.

Madara's usual type looks nothing like her. She's thin and pretty, while he usually goes for curvy, sex-charged women. He just can't help it, though. Every time he convinces himself to shove the inappropriate emotions away, she'll purse her lips in deep thought, stretch her arms above her head so just a tiny sliver of her stomach would show, or move her hair over her shoulder so he could see the back of her neck and he'd be back to square one.

"Alright, I'm ready. Want me to sit in front of you?"

The man's deep thought was interrupted by the woman of his desires tossing the tube of healing ointment at him. He caught it, coming over to sit cross-legged and watching as she moved to sit in front of him.

'Damn, she already put her hair up.'

Last time, she allowed him to do it. The long pink strands of her hair were soft, and it smelled so feminine and floral that Madara'd happily do it again. He allowed himself to pout since she couldn't see it as she took her shirt halfway off so her back was bare, but his disappointment was interrupted when he realized something was missing from the picture before him.

'She's not wearing a bra…. Sakura, why must you torture me like this?'

Madara stared unblinkingly at her back. When those half-faded bruises are gone, what would it look like? His eyes traveled down from her shoulder blades to the small of her tiny she was skinny, she still had some athleticism. She jogs and goes to the gym a couple of times a week, so the slightest bit of feminine muscle flexes under her tight skin whenever she moves. He badly wanted to feel them move under his hands. He wanted to see it.

'I bet it's the most wonderful sight when she's bent-' "Are you gonna do it? I'm cold."

The man blinked, unaware that he'd yet to move. He made a sound of confirmation before shaking his head and beginning. Goosebumps dusted Sakura's skin, and Madara held back a smirk. He noticed it last time, too. She's so nervous that she's hyperaware of everything, and he found it endearing. He knows how shy she is despite how hard she tries to come off as confident. She doesn't even see him that way, so he can't imagine her response if she did.

"That's pretty, by the way. I noticed it earlier. Are you not gonna hang it up?"

Madara looked up, and the light feeling in the air disappeared when he realized she was talking about the large painting, swans surrounded by flowers, encased in a heavy golden frame, leaning against the wall near the hallway entrance. It was his first target for Danzo's auction. He had to break into some rich guy's mansion to steal it and nearly got caught by security guards upon escaping.

Quickly, he came up with a lie, "It's a Christmas gift. I haven't had a chance to wrap it yet."

Sakura straightened her spine, making him look at the back of her head, "Is that so? Well, she's a lucky lady! It's very nice."

The Uchiha man could've brought a hand to his forehead; he was so annoyed with himself. It's obvious he'd never buy a painting like that for another man, so Sakura assumed he was indirectly telling her there was a woman in his life important enough to buy a gift for. He wanted to correct her, but then he'd have to make up another lie, and they'd start to pile up, so he just gritted his teeth and remained silent.

Sakura could've cringed at how fake she sounded, pretending to be happy for Madara since he'd finally found someone he could tolerate. If she didn't know his parents were dead, she'd assume it was for his mother.

'I bet she's mature and sophisticated if he's buying her something classy like that,' Sakura thought disappointedly, 'She's probably nothing like me.'

"Are you doing anything for Christmas?" he asked.

She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his fingers on her back, "My folks are gonna be on vacation, so I'll probably just watch some movies and get drunk. It's honestly pretty depressing."

The holiday was just over a month away, but decorations and themed music were already everywhere she went: stores, school, and even at her own job.

"Want company? Christmas sucks."

Sakura's eyes reopened, her brow furrowing. Why would he spend the holiday with her if he had a girlfriend? It's common knowledge that if you can't spend it with family, you spend it with someone you love. In Konoha, it's considered a romantic holiday, second only to Valentine's Day.

When she thought harder, though, she realized she really wasn't in any position to question his decisions. The first time they met, she drunkenly spent the night on his couch and had a boyfriend, after all.

So, feeling both guilty and giddy, she agreed, "Are you actually gonna get drunk this time? You always say you will, and then you don't."

His chuckle was warm and made the tips of her ears turn red, "It's not my fault. You're always a handful, and someone has to make sure you don't get yourself killed."

Then, he was finished, and she was pulling her shirt back on. When it was in place, she twisted her torso to look at him with a grin, "Would it be okay if I got you a gift?"

Dark eyes searched her face, and she could tell he wanted to say no, but he surprised her, "Fine, but only if I can get one for you, too."

"What in the world will you possibly get me? Chicken? Beer?"

Madara grinned, the rare sight making her heart flutter wildly, "You'll just have to wait and find out."

Sakura's smile fell when she realized how strongly the emotions that'd just passed through her were, and the man's did, too, because he undoubtedly thought something was wrong. Panicking, she got to her feet and walked around to sit on the sofa behind where he was seated, "Can I play with your hair?" If he says yes, he won't be able to see the humiliated expression on her face.

"I swear if you put it in pigtails…."

The woman giggled, running her fingers through his messy hair to remove any tangles, "Why do you keep it so long, anyway? Doesn't it get hot?"

His back leaned more fully against the front of the sofa, her legs touching the outside of his shoulders as she sat behind him, "You'll laugh."

Sakura's brow furrowed as she focused on separating his hair down the middle so she could braid it, "Nuh-uh. Promise."

"My father always had long hair; I asked him about it as a kid. He told me it's been a tradition in our family to only cut your hair if you experience a significant loss."

A nostalgic melancholy within his words sobered Sakura's playful mood. It was rare for him to bring up family. For whatever reason, it was a touchy subject, so she did her best to avoid it. She felt a little bad for him because it was her theory that something terrible happened when he was a teenager that he still hadn't healed from.

Hesitantly, she gave up on playing with his hair and soothed it out before cautiously laying her hands on his shoulders, "Have you ever cut it?"

Madara uncrossed his arms, giving her the wordless confirmation that what she was doing was okay, "When I was seventeen."

She massaged his shoulders, feeling a large amount of tension in his muscles, and formed her response carefully, "Well, I'm glad you haven't had to since." A hum rumbled through his chest, but he didn't respond any other way.

Silently, she worked on loosening his tension before bashfully offering, "Would you like me to do your back? It feels like you could use it." Though the woman was happy to touch him, she had no hidden agenda. He seemed stressed; she studied the body well and knew how to help. It's something she's capable of, so why wouldn't she offer?

He ended up laying on his stomach on the sofa, his arms up and bent to rest his head on them. Sakura's face was bright red as she straddled his lower back and leaned forward to place her hands flat on his shoulders, "Tell me if it hurts."

Sakura stared at his black shirt as she worked, deep in thought.

There were a lot of holes in her knowledge of him, but she had a feeling he only left the missing parts out because he thought she'd come to see him differently in whatever regard. Having gotten to know him well, she didn't ask him because it'd make him uneasy. The only thing she could think of as she moved her hands lower was how she wanted to comfort him, even if that meant she never got to act on the explicit urges she's been getting more often.

Madara didn't come right out and say it, but Sakura knows he's often lonely. He's devoted his entire life to his career to the detriment of his relationships with others. They're very similar because she devoted so much of herself to her relationship that most of the friends she used to have were now distant or nonexistent. Sakura gets lonely, too.

Something warm was pressing onto Madara's back when he awoke. The lamp on the end table and the TV were still on, but he could tell it was the middle of the night. He pressed his hands to the sofa as he prepared to get up, only to freeze when a soft groan sounded from whatever was on top of him. That's when he remembered how he fell asleep to begin with.

A slight grin tugged at his lips as he situated himself back down. Now that he knew it was Sakura, he could picture how she was lying by her weight distribution. Her cheek rested against his left shoulder blade, and one of her hands fell over his right side. He hadn't noticed it before.

'She's so light; it's like she's a kid and not a fully grown woman.'

It was selfish, but he refused to wake her because she'd freak out and begin apologizing, even though Madara knew she'd never do something like this on purpose. He wanted to enjoy the feeling of her so close while he had the chance. Hell, if he knew she wouldn't get uncomfortable, he'd even share his bed with her rather than have her sleep on the sofa, no sex involved.

As much as he enjoys the act, and he very much does, Madara's never been one for cuddling or physical affection. It felt weird with the many women he's experienced over the years because he didn't give a damn about them, so he didn't do it.

Now that there was someone he cared about, he'd begun to understand the appeal. Every point of contact where she touched him was warm. He tried to remember what it felt like that night he found her drunk in the hallway, and she slept in his bed, but he'd been so exhausted he couldn't recall the sensation of her in his arms.

Madara was pulled from his recollections by the woman groaning again; this time, she slid off his back. He moved smoothly with the action, turning onto his back so she'd fall into his side, halfway on top of him with a leg hooked between his, her arm and head resting on his chest.

She mumbled in a barely conscious voice, "Madara…?"

He hummed, whispering so as to not startle her, "It's fine. Go back to sleep." Her fingers loosely gripped a handful of his shirt, but she didn't respond, leading him to believe she'd fallen asleep again.

With her petite body pressed against his, Sakura seemed fragile. An air of protectiveness swelled his chest, his arm tightening around her back so his hand came to rest on her hip. Madara didn't care who or what they were; nothing was going to harm her. Not while he's around.