shut up & dance

thefreckledone:

sakura just wanted to eat in peace, unfortunately the founders won’t let her

---

Sakura
sighed, rotating her shoulders. It had been a long, long day.

“Sakura!”
a voice called.

And
it was about to get a lot longer.

Sakura
turned, casting Hashirama an irritated look. “Yes?” she inquired.

“Let’s
grab some dinner, I’m sure you’re starving,” he stated, tucking her hand in the
crook of his elbow as he led her away.

It’d
been two years since Sasuke’s genjutsu had somehow thrown her back to the past.
Two years of catching herself calling out to Ino whenever she saw odd plants
and looking for Sai when there was a beautiful sunset. Two years of dealing
with nosey annoyances.

Like
Hashirama.

Her
stomach growled on cue, but Sakura refused to feel embarrassed. She’d just
completed a double shift and hadn’t eaten since the night before.

Hashirama
laughed. “Let’s go see what the Akimichi have prepared tonight, shall we?”

Sakura
shrugged in acquiesce and the duo left the makeshift hospital. Despite her
exhaustion, she felt proud of the progress she’d made with the Konoha hospital.
As the only competent medic in Konoha, Sakura was in charge of every aspect of
the hospital, from creating the medicine to training the staff. They were
improving in leaps and bounds and the citizens of Konoha remained in awe of
her.

Hashirama
glanced at her out of the corner of his eye a couple of times. Sakura smirked.
Subtly was not Hashirama’s strong suit.

“Yes?”
she inquired sweetly, eyebrow raised.

He
flushed, not an uncommon sight when around Sakura. She always managed to
unbalance him. Ever since she showed up at the gates, covered in blood and
demanding to speak with Tsunade, she continued to surprise him. “Are you ready
for the upcoming celebration?”

Sakura
grinned. “It’ll be nice to celebrate the founding of this village. Have we
decided on a name yet?”

Hashirama
grinned. “Madara’s come up with a great name. He’ll reveal it at the ceremony.”

Sakura
hummed noncommittedly. Perhaps the most intriguing thing about this universe
was Uchiha Madara. Her first encounter with him had been beyond humiliating.
She’d broken through the gates of Konoha, looking rougher than ever, caught
sight of Madara, and decked him across the face, screaming something about
Tsunade. In her defense, Sakura had been functioning with both blood and sleep
deprivation.

Uchiha
Madara had also been their main enemy in the Fourth Great Shinobi War.

In
any case, apologies were made and Sakura found that this world’s Madara was an
incredibly thoughtful individual. He hid it behind his stoicism and
intimidating aura but he was a sweetheart to the core. She’d found dango on her
makeshift desk in the hospital on days when she was running double or triple
shifts. Madara was the only one who knew about her favorite sweet. It made her
wonder if Sasuke had cast her into an alternate universe completely, instead of
just the past.

“Sakura?”
Hashirama asked anxiously.

Sakura
started. “Sorry, I was drifting. What were you saying?”

His
flush spread to his neck as Sakura watched in fascination. “I was wondering if
you’d join me at—“

“Sakura,”
a voice greeted, interrupting Hashirama.

Sakura
turned, breaking her grip on Hashirama. “Tobirama,” she greeted warily. Sakura
liked the philosophical conversations and debates they sometimes had but
Hashirama and Tobirama together tended to be…interesting. “How are you?”

His
red eyes warmed minutely. “I am well, thank you for asking. Are you going to
dinner?”

Sakura
nodded, valiantly ignoring the glares the brothers were trading.

Hashirama
smiled tightly. “Why don’t you join us Tobirama? We’d love to have you there.”

Tobirama
smiled slightly in return. “I would be honored.”

Sakura
shook her head slightly as they started down the street again, smiling at
civilians and ninja alike who greeted her. Tobirama and Hashirama flanked her.
Thankfully, it wasn’t an uncommon sight for the men to traverse the village
with her or the rumor mill would have imploded. For some reason, the villagers
considered Sakura a central figure to the village and her interactions with the
major clan leaders seemed a part of that.

They
approached the patchwork building that housed the most phenomenal cooks in all
of Konoha. It was bustling with activity as was the norm. Sakura greeted the
familiar patrons and any former patients that she recognized as Tobirama and
Hashirama commandeered a table for them in the corner.

“The
usual Sakura?” Kimiko asked, brown eyes twinkling with good humor. Sakura had
been on good terms with the Akimichi ever since she’d healed the clan leader’s
daughter of pneumonia.

“Of
course, thank you. If I could get three orders?” she asked.

“Make
that four.”

Sakura
turned, barely resisting the urge to groan when she caught sight of Madara
smirking down at her.

“Coming
right up,” Kimiko said, bustling back into the kitchen, a sly grin on her face.

Sakura
should have expected it, honestly. They always found a way to corner her every
day. Sometimes it was Tobirama volunteering to teach her a specialized jutsu.
Other times, it was Hashirama “stumbling” upon her while she was out training.
Madara approached her sometimes asking for her medical opinion on the
Sharingan. Generally each of them managed to coerce her into a spar once or
twice a week. The really crazy ones were when the four of them sparred
together.

They
had to travel a distance from the village to prevent long-term destruction.

Sakura
made her way back to the table, Madara at her side, feeling that doom looming
over her.

This
wouldn’t end well.

Tobirama
and Hashirama stopped glaring at each other to stare daggers at Madara who
merely smirked triumphantly as he took a seat near Sakura.

“So,
as I was saying earlier Sakura…” Hashirama began.

“You
know, Sakura I wanted to ask…” Tobirama said at the same time.

Madara
interrupted, “Sakura, would you do me the honor…”

The
men all broke off, glaring at one another. Sakura, beyond confused and
exhausted at this point, smiled when Kimiko approached.

“Here’s
your soup,” she said, watching Sakura sympathetically. “I brought you two bowls
because I can see you’re famished.” Kimiko winked. “On the house.”

“Thanks
so much!” Sakura replied, digging into the first bowl with enthusiasm.

The
others began to eat as well, discussing politics and paperwork as Sakura slowly
began to feel more like a human being. They’d been having some problems with
other villages, ones that had been established for a longer period of time. A
lot of shinobi were coming into the hospital after being ambushed. Madara was
pushing for a show of strength while Hashirama was hoping for peace overtures
among the villages. Tobirama wanted to hold off and study the other villages
some more before making a decision.

Sakura
ignored their chatter and focused on her food, thanking the gods above that
they were distracted from whatever was making them competitive earlier.

“S-Sakura?”
came the tentative call.

Sakura
turned, smiling when she saw Itama, Hashirama and Tobirama’s youngest brother.
She’d healed him as a gesture of good faith following her impromptu attack on
Madara. It had been the start of the founders’ intrigue with her. Itama was a
sweet and gentle kid, probably five or six years younger than she was. She
enjoyed talking to him. He was the only sane Senju in her opinion.

“Yes,
Itama?” she asked politely.

“W-would
you…could I escort you to the celebration of the village’s founding?” he asked,
looking up at her shyly through his eyelashes.

Sakura
smiled gently. “Of course, Itama!” she enthused. “I would love to join you!”

Sakura
frowned, realizing that the conversation at the table had petered off. She
turned, recognizing the dark looks on the founders’ faces. She groaned.

It
was going to be a long night.