moor

This fic is a twist on the ending of FF II. Sakura has just discovered Madara in her apartment and has fled from him into the snowy night.
***
Sweat dampened Shisui's brow as he navigated the frozen Konoha streets. His trusty Land Rover had never failed him, and he had complete faith in it, but his insides were mush. How had everything gone so wrong?
The GPS beeped at Shisui and he arrived at the alleyway where the message was sent from. He pulled in and noted the other vehicle with its dimly lit interior light on, its engine sputtering as the tank ran dry.
Sakura's footprints led up to the wall at the end, and he followed them as far as he could until he reached the chain link fence, garbage piled up the side and against the brick walls that surrounded him.
Hoisting himself up, Shisui was about to swing over the side of the fence when he noticed only one set of prints on the opposite side of the fence. These prints were heavier, from a man's boot.
There were no more Sakura-barefoot-prints on this side of the fence.
His brows knitting, Shisui dropped back down and spun around, searching the area. There were no footprints leading out of the alley. She hadn't run back down the alley. Where was she? Up the fire escapes? Would Sakura have been able to reach that high?
No, he shook his head, his eyes sharpened as much as they could in the narrow, dark alley. Sakura wouldn't have been able to reach that high to grab the ladders to pull them down. Her hand was still too damaged to lift her own body weight. Where could she have gone?
He was examining the fence again for any evidence that would help when he heard the muffled groan from beside him.
"Sakura?" He asked, turning to the… pile of garbage!
Not sparing a minute, Shisui grabbed at the bags and boxes piled there, ripping them away from the crusty grip of frost that had settled around them. Snow flew through the air at being disturbed as he tossed the bags and boxes behind him, before finally his warm hands connected with a chilled arm that jerked in his grasp, followed by a curt scream.
"It's okay, Sakura," Shisui said, kneeling so he could see her better. "It's me. It's me," he repeated, lowering his voice.
"Itachi?" Croaked Sakura’s quiet voice.
"No, Shisui," he said, smiling. He leaned closer and pushed a last bag out of the way as he searched for her hand, face, anything.
And then, with a tumble, Sakura shakily emerged. Her skin was grey, her hair frozen against her head in frosted chunks; her lips and hands were blue. All she had on was an oversize coat; the rest of her was bare.
Shisui's eyes widened. She was barely breathing, wasn't even trembling; her teeth weren't chattering.
"Sakura, we need to get you warm," he said, yanking off his jacket and stepping through the fallen garbage bags to wrap it around her.
"Doesn't hurt," she said, her words slurred.
Shisui’s brow dipped. She was in worse condition than he thought. "We're taking you to my place. Can you walk?"
She tried to shake her head, but couldn't quite manage the full motion. Inside him, Shisui’s stomach twisted.
"I'm going to carry you to the car," he said, and Sakura accepted.
With gentle hands, Shisui lifted Sakura and cradled her to him, then started back to his Land Rover.
"We're lucky I found you," Shisui said, unlocking the front passenger door. He placed her carefully inside. "Give me a minute, I'm going to get into the driver's seat. Sit tight."
Sakura made a humming sound that was more whimper than response, and Shisui's heart broke. He wrapped her head to toe in blankets before securely buckling her into the seat.
He hopped into the driver’s seat as fast as he could, turning on the ignition once more and letting the engine idle a moment as he pulled out his phone. He locked the doors, just in case.
"I'm just going to send a message before we go, okay?" He said, already typing. He looked at Sakura in the passenger seat, but she had closed her eyes, her breathing shallow and even.
"Oy!" He called, shaking her seat. "Wake up! Stay awake! No sleeping!"
He hit send on his phone when she opened one bleary eye to stare at him.
His brows drawing together, Shisui frowned. "Stay with me," he said, putting the Land Rover in gear. "We're on our way. Keep talking. It's really important you stay awake right now. You know that, right? Good," he said, splitting his attention between her and the road.
"Shi...sui…?"
"Yeah, Sakura?"
"How did you find me?"
"Hn? A message told me where to look for you. Cell phones are amazing these days. How are you doing? Tell me what you can feel. Can you feel your fingers?"
"No..."
"Wrists? elbows?"
"... Not much." Sakura’s voice cracked.
Shisui's stomach dropped.
"Arms? Shoulders?"
"Yeah... Some..."
"That's good. We'll get you fixed up really soon," he said, taking a road she was less familiar with.
Sakura's tired eyes followed their path. "Itachi's house is back that way."
"We're not going to the Uchiha Main House. I said we were going to my place. I thought you'd like a break from everything," Shisui said, navigating carefully.
"Itachi knows?"
"Hn. We may need to make a quick stop on the way, though, okay? I wasn't supposed to leave tonight, and I—hey. Hey!"
Sakura opened her eyes again.
Shisui let out a heavy breath.
Then Sakura's eyes flew open and she sat up straighter.
“Shisui, it’s—”
There, a dozen meters from them, a sinister shadow outside the window loomed, his long, dark hair wild and inky as it blew against the night.
“Hm?” asked Shisui, slowing down as they approached the side of the road. “I just need to pick someone up, okay? Then we’ll head straight back to my place.”
“N-no,” stuttered Sakura, shaking her head, brittle. “No, no, Shisui, it’s him. It’s him. It’s him, it’s him, it’s—”
Shisui forced himself to remain calm as he saw Sakura begin to struggle inside her blanket cocoon, unable to free her arms.
“It’s going to be okay, Sakura,” he shushed her as the Land Rover came to a stop by the side of the road and the living nightmare approached and stopped outside Sakura’s door.
“No, no, no,” repeated Sakura desperately. “Shisui, please, we need to go—I can’t get my hands out—we need to GO, SHISUI, PLEASE!” she begged, tears streaming down her face. “Please! Shisui, please!” she screamed.
The intensity of Sakura’s terror had Shisui swallowing. He looked from her wild eyes to the steering wheel, conflicted. Then he heard the tap at Sakura’s window and strengthened his resolve.
Firming his jaw, he took a breath and pressed the button that lowered the window on Sakura’s door.
Sakura’s screaming became incoherent as the man outside the door paused to reach in and cup her cheek.
“Hello,” purred Madara lovingly, ignoring her thrashing. “My Sakura.”
Shuddering and shaking, Sakura broke apart, screaming insentient until her voice was raw.
Madara opened Sakura’s door and undid her buckle, ignoring her bucking and wriggling. He carried her into the back of the Land Rover and lay down beside her, closing the rear door after them.
“Shhhhh, we’re together now,” soothed Madara, clutching a struggling, blanket-wrapped Sakura closer to him. “Things will be perfect.”
Seeing them settled below the view of the windows, Shisui put the Land Rover back in gear, indicated, and pulled back into traffic again.
Sakura’s screams faded to hiccups and sobs, and Shisui’s clenched jaws relaxed as she gave in to sleep after an hour or so of fighting her captors.
The last thing Shisui heard from Sakura as she drifted off, was her tearful voice begging him, “Why, Shisui? Why?”

***
Fading light peeked through the cracks at the edges of the drapes when Sakura woke the next day in early evening, the last rays of the sun sinking beneath the horizon. Her head ached and her body felt like she’d been through a woodchipper, broken into little pieces. The inside of her mouth felt like cotton and her thoughts were scattered and distracted, confused.
What… where was she?
Trying to push herself up to sitting in the cushy bed, Sakura winced and cried out as her tender fingers protested. She fell to her side on the soft mattress, clutching her throbbing hands to her chest protectively. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes from the pain and she breathed deeply for a minute to try and clear her head and try again. The thick blankets that cushioned her and protected her from the light chill in the room smelled familiar, and Sakura tried to place the scent, but her head was a mess. She allowed herself a moment of vulnerability and shrank back under the blankets, closer to the warmth that wafted beneath. It was like a furnace there.
Was… was the last night real?
The answer came to her as the blankets moved... and she didn’t.
Opening her eyes again, Sakura noticed, for the first time, that she wasn’t alone in the bed.
The tremors started unconsciously, from a coiling, fluttering uncertainty in Sakura’s stomach to the shaking of her fingers to the hair rising on the back of her arms and neck.
A man’s hand slid around Sakura’s waist, startling a shriek out of her.
Immediately she fought, thrashing and hitting with elbows, heels, the back of her head.
“Whoa, easy, Sakura,” said Shisui, his voice exhausted. He protected his head with the arm he withdrew from her middle. “Easy.”
“Sh-Shisui?” gaped Sakura, looking over her shoulder at him.
“I need to check your hands and wrists. You had severe hypothermia. I climbed in with you to help you warm up more naturally,” explained Shisui. “You finally stopped shivering a little over an hour ago. I was supposed to get Madara when you woke, but… I thought you could use a break.”
“You’re with him, though,” argued Sakura, shrinking away from Shisui.
Shisui sighed.
“I have… reasons,” said Shisui tiredly. “Could I please check you over first?”
Sakura shook her head and rolled away from him, her back to him, and went back to holding her hands to her chest.
Shisui frowned.
“Sakura, don’t be stubborn. You could be very hurt.”
“Oh, I’m hurt,” agreed Sakura fiercely.
The sentence hung between them and Shisui’s jaw clenched.
“Sakura.”
Her back to Shisui, Sakura ignored him. Her aching muscles were tense and her shivers had changed from fear to fury.
“Sakura,” repeated Shisui more forcefully.
“Fuck you, Shisui,” said Sakura, keeping her back to him.
His chest rising and falling more quickly with his anger, Shisui closed his eyes a moment to calm himself before pushing the covers away and leaving the bed. He threw them back over Sakura to keep her warm. It was when he passed by Sakura that she realized he was only in his boxer-briefs and undershirt, which had ridden up to expose a more toned abdomen than she ever could have imagined. Shisui was far better built than she’d ever thought, almost on par with Itachi, a martial artist.
“I’ll check on you later. The bathroom is through the gray door,” said Shisui, sliding his feet into fresh, new slippers on the floor by the door. He slipped a shirt, sweater and jeans on, unabashed to be dressing in front of Sakura. He was about to leave, his hand on the door handle, when he paused, his head bowing a moment.
“The water… may hurt, when it first touches you. Don’t let it get above lukewarm or it may damage your nerves and skin. If it becomes too painful, call for me. If you can walk, that is.”
Sakura’s lips pressed together tightly as she glared at Shisui’s retreating back. Her pride burned through her like a river of smouldering, molten ash.
“I don’t need your help,” she said clearly.
Shisui’s breath was soft as he exhaled.
“As you wish,” he murmured, leaving and closing the door behind him.

***

Shisui hadn’t lied about the water.
Sakura thought her teeth were going to crack from her clenching her jaw so hard as she tried to rinse her hands in what she thought should be body-temperature water in the sink. She refused to cry or scream, though. For one thing, her throat was still raw from the previous night. Secondly, she didn’t know who would hear her.
Her feet, as Shisui had predicted, were a bloody mess. Even the sheets at the lower end of the bed were likely permanently ruined from her bloodstains. When Sakura had pulled the covers back, she was startled by the amount of mess on the sheets--from the dirt, garbage, slush and other stains that had covered her body when she’d lost consciousness the previous night, likely. And all she wore was her underwear. As much as the sheets disgusted her, she pulled them off the bed and wrapped them around herself as she carefully got up, slid on the spare slippers by her side of the king size bed, and gingerly stood up.
She had to explore if she was going to escape.
She had looked outside but the last rays of sun were falling beneath the hills around them, darkness already taking hold of the forest that surrounded the building Shisui and Madara had absconded her to. She saw no other pinpricks of light outside of the stars above, no other signs of life. There were tracks in the snow below which she assumed were from Shisui’s Land Rover. To the right was a small clearing between her building and that of the nearest two outbuildings, one a large barn and the other some kind of work shed from the looks of it. There was firewood stacked on the porch beneath the overhang that ran along the far side of her building, but she couldn’t tell if it was a house or a business building. She assumed house because of her room, but there was something… unsettling about the layout. There was no door to the house that she could see.
How had they gotten in?
As Sakura focused on rinsing her feet in the bathtub in the washroom, cleansing out the dirt and pebbles that had gotten stuck under her skin and flushing her cuts, she noticed how beautifully appointed the rooms were. She had been expecting a dungeon, and this was closer to a magazine setting. The tub sunk into the floor had massage jets, and on the far side of the bathroom, which was larger than the living room of her apartment, she found a covered jacuzzi. The counters were marble and the fixtures were sleek and modern. There was an art nouveau stained glass transom window above the bathroom door that left blue-and-green rainbows all over her in a soothing pattern as she purged the dirt from her skin.
The creamy walls, the linen-scented diffuser on the floating wood shelves, the wicker furniture and lavender-perfumed drawers full of clothing that fit her perfectly, she found out later, after she had a crude shower and wrapped the fluffiest towels she’d ever felt around herself, twice, all formed a picture of deliberate attention to functional beauty and detail.
Dressing in the clean underwear she found in the drawers, Sakura continued looking around her, not trusting the quiet.
Where were they?
Were they watching her?
Did… they think she was too weak to fight back anymore?
This wasn’t what she had expected. She wasn’t sure what was happening. Was this another mind trick? Another way to disorient her? Get her to trust them?
Mentally stopping herself from biting her lip, Sakura felt a small shiver down her spine. She kind of thought it was working, if so. She hurt so much, was so isolated from everything she knew, and yet this room was fit for a famous celebrity. It was everything she would have wanted, when she was older, perhaps.
But not now.
Now, she had never craved her tiny apartment more.
—Especially when all she could find in the drawers of clothing were white lace dresses and black satin negligees.
The selection was so specific and limited that she was tempted to keep the sheets. Instead, Sakura put on a lace dress and folded the sheets into a makeshift toga overtop. If nothing else, they would provide some modesty. She collected a silky peignoir from behind the bathroom door and with a quick check over herself, she reached for the door that led out into the rest of the house.

[WIP]
Based off an alternate ending to FF II: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3335807/chapters/7294667