Karenusia

thefreckledone:

a follow up to this. I blame @the-roadkill-cafe for everything.

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“Hashirama!”

Hashirama looks up from his desk, hiding a smile behind his folded hands as Sakura storms into his office. “Ah, Sakura, I thought you’d be away for a few more months. What happened to your visit to Kumo?”

Sakura slams a missive on his desk. “That is why I am here.”

Hashirama glances down, frowning slightly as he catches his brother’s familiar scrawl. “So Tobirama told you.”

“Hashirama, why are you doing this?” Her voice breaks, but her posture is solid, fists clenched.

“You know why,” he replies, standing and reaching out to cup her cheek. His hand stills when she takes a step back. His expression falls, heralding the oncoming storm. “You still deny me?”

Sakura shakes her head, incredulous. “You turned down Uzushio’s suit, Hashirama. You were already past the negotiation stage. You reneged on your engagement. You’ve slighted Uzushio, the Uzumaki, Mito. Their only recourse is war.”

Hashirama waits until she meets his eyes. “So?” he responds, taking pleasure in the shock writ clear upon her face. “What care have I for war? Uzushio is a small nation, prosperous certainly, but nothing in the face of Konoha’s might. If they attack, and they shall, they will fall. We will have Uzushio’s lands regardless, by the blood born of marriage or the blood shed in war. It shall be war.” Hashirama flicks his wrist and the boards beneath Sakura’s feet move, shifting her closer. This time when he tries to cup her face, she allows it. “And you shall still be mine.”

For a brief moment, Sakura’s eyes slide shut and she presses her cheek into his hand, memorizing the way his calluses catch across her skin. Too soon, her eyes open once more to the reality before her, the nightmare she has a hand in creating.

“Please don’t do this,” she whispers, hand coming up to cover his.

Hashirama smiles and it is a beautiful, terrible thing. He strums his thumb across her cheek, brushing her stray hairs away from her face. “It is already done. It is the only way I can have you.” The wood creaks and Sakura finds herself caught in the embrace of his arms. The arms that sheltered her and made her safe. Never before have they felt like a cage, until now. “We can be together.”

Sakura shoves away from him, shaking her head. “No, we cannot. Hashirama, we cannot be together.”

“But I’m no longer marrying Mito,” he protests, reaching for her again.

Sakura evades him. “Our fates were sealed the moment you agreed to the marriage, regardless of whether you go through with it or not. We cannot be together. I will not have the blood of countless innocents shed for my happiness.” Her eyes burn with the fire he first fell in love with. “I will not allow you to start a war in my name.”

“It is too late,” Hashirama replies, fierce in his anger, in the clawing desperation at his chest. Why can’t she understand? If only she’d see the reason in his actions, they could have happiness. Together. “Uzushio has heard my rejection; the banners of war are flying. There is nothing you can do.”

Sakura stares at him for a long moment and Hashirama’s breath catches at the overflowing emotions he sees simmering there. “There is always a way,” she replies, before disappearing in a cloud of smoke.

Hashirama watches the wisps of smoke until they dissipate, jaw tight and heart heavy. He knows, somewhere deep within, that nothing will ever be the same. Yet he refuses to be idle.

Hashirama whistles, not turning as his Anbu appear at his back. His eyes burn with tears but he cannot shed them. Not here.

“Your orders?” one of them asks.

“Bring her back,” Hashirama replies, voice rough.

One way or another, Hashirama is getting his way.