Chapter Text
The stars are quite beautiful tonight, Obito notes as he trudges back to the inn he's staying at. It's almost four a.m., and he feels slightly guilty for making Sakura stay up late when kids are supposed to get plenty of rest while growing up. He'll make it up to her by bringing her a box of candy tomorrow night though.
With her pale-pink locks, expressive green eyes, and curious nature, his soulmate is the epitome of sweetness. Her love for sugary treats makes him want to bring her more, but no, too much sugar can ruin one's health, so Obito, unwillingly, has to restrain himself from spoiling her too much. A bar of chocolate or a handful of candies is enough of a gift for every visit.
And flowers. Obito has learned for a while now that Sakura only likes them because she can't resist colorful things, and flower-picking gives her the freedom to wander in the forest.
Absolutely adorable.
Don't get so attached, his mind whispers to him warningly.
He stuffs out the voice. Now feeling tiredness seeping into him, Obito sighs and takes off his mask to allow himself to breathe in fresh air. A breeze blows by, coldly caressing his face, but it is gone just as quickly as it came. Two afternoons of not seeing Sakura had him worried, possibilities of her being sick, hurt or worse, kidnapped, running through his mind as he waited for her to come. And when she didn't, his self-control broke.
It didn't take him long to find where Sakura lived. A quaint two-storey house protected by a measly low fence came to view, and Obito remembered the first time he saw Sakura.
It was about five months ago, and Obito, having just finished a particularly tiring mission, decided to take a quick rest in a quiet town by the borders of the Land of Tea. He was passing through a busy district when a flash of pink dashed past him and caught his attention.
“Amai-san gave me an apple, Mama!” he heard a girlish cheer among the chatter of bustling people. “It's so, so red!”
Loud. But there was something in the girl's voice that made him turn.
And so he did, and everything immediately became sharper and more vibrant.
His lone eye widened, stunned.
He'd heard stories about how the Uchiha see colors differently compared to other people. A lively blue would be something akin to a dull gray. A bright green in their eyes would be somehow muted. No, they aren't colorblind. But until they meet their soulmate, colors would stay the same to them, somber and drab.
Obito had thought that Rin was his soulmate. His deceased teammate had been high-spirited when she was alive, bringing with her various tints of orange, yellow, and red everywhere she went. She'd shown him a world full of vibrancy, and Obito loved her for it. Even though her name wasn't written anywhere on his body, it was fine with him. As far as he knew, the both of them were Unmarked, and it was fairly common for the Unmarked to find comfort in each other, free to choose for themselves with no soulmarks to restrain them.
“Mama!”
His attention snapped back to the girl.
She was around two or three, and she raised her arms in a silent command for her mother to pick her up. Clearly, she was smart for her age, by the way that she was already fluent in speaking. The pair were only a few feet away from him, standing under a store's canopy, the older woman carrying a bag filled with groceries which she placed on the ground before complying to the girl's request. Happily, the girl patted both her mother's cheeks simultaneously and kissed them in a loving gesture.
Her hair was a lovely shade of pink, and her eyes shimmered with different hues of green, reminding him of polished gemstones. Pretty. A sharp contrast against the dreary tones of the background. Her face was lit up in a merry grin, dimples on both sides of her cheeks, and his heart tightened.
How long had it been since he'd seen colors in its gaiety?
Far too long.
His soulmark ached.
He'd gotten it three years ago as he was traveling, and it had burned painfully. At first, Obito had thought that maybe he had a poisoned wound on his back that he didn't detect, courtesy of the last mission he took to Kumo. Urgency calling him, he rushed to the nearest brothel, ignored the women who tried to stop him for a drink, and went straight to the comfort room. Quickly, he took off his cloak and shirt, and checked his back using the bathroom mirror.
‘Haruno Sakura’ was written in loopy letters, running down the middle of his back and tracing the curve of his spine, and Obito’s breath hitched.
A soulmark.
He had a soulmate.
“Papa!” Obito broke out of that memory and attentively watched when the girl stretched out her arms to a man walking towards them. Like his daughter, he had pink hair, albeit darker and drabber, and there were smile lines on the edges of his eyes. “Papa!”
The man took her in his arms and spun her around, laughing. “How's my little Sakura-chan?”
At his words, Obito froze.
Sakura?
“Good!” the girl, Sakura, giggled cheerfully (why was she so vibrant?). “Amai-san gave me an apple. No charge!”
Maybe she was just another Sakura. Sakura was such a common name anyways. His soulmate couldn't be…a little child. He was already eighteen, for damn’s sake—people would call him a pedophile. Hell no. Rigid, he turned from the family of three and continued on his way, determined to not dwell on the child he'd stumble on.
But necessities had him buying a fresh set of kunai at a weapon store before leaving the town the next morning, and as he was setting down the money for his purchase, the door chimes tinkled, announcing the arrival of a new customer.
“There's my little Haruno!” the cashier in front of him exclaimed.
Before he could register the woman's words, a small presence walked up to his side, stubby fingers gripping the cashier's desk in an effort to hoist herself up. All Obito saw at the moment was familiar pink hair and he stiffened.
“Amai-san!” the girl from yesterday — Sakura, Obito recalled —gayly said, and the immediately everything became brighter and more vivacious. “I want a kunai!”
Amai waved a finger in front of little Sakura's face. “Not so fast, young lady. Do your parents know about this?”
Their conversation sounded muffled, because Obito was busy trying to make sense of his predicament because seriously —
Sakura.
Haruno.
Haruno Sakura.
His soulmate.
Sages, were the spirits above actually trying to label him as a pedophile?
Granted, he was a criminal. Not a known one, but given that he'd been the cause of the Yondaime and his wife’s death, Obito considered himself a criminal on the run. But he wasn't a pedophile. Children were cute and all, but not in that way. No. He was highly attracted to women. Women that were so vile and seductive that Obito couldn't get enough of them.
But due to him traveling a lot, most of his liaisons only lasted for at least a month or two.
So yes, he wasn't a pedophile. And God forbid he would be one just because his soulmate was a fucking kid.
Maybe they could be platonic soulmates instead, Obito pondered, if it was alright with Sakura to mingle with a criminal. Platonic bonds weren't uncommon. He once knew a thirty-year-old shinobi who found out that his soulmate was a five-year-old, and needless to say, the man freaked out. But in the end, arrangements were made and the two became just friends, no more, no less.
“Of course they don't, Amai-san,” Sakura replied, and he glanced down at her, only to see a pout in place. “They don't even like it when I'm holding a knife.”
Amai shook her head exasperatedly. “And you want a kunai because…?”
“I wanna be a shinobi!” Sakura grinned, and wasn't her ambition terribly endearing? Her eyes sparkled pleadingly. “So won't you please agree to my request just this once?”
“No,” Amai denied her firmly, and Sakura visibly wilted. “But here's an apple.”
The girl took the apple with both hands, disappointment written all over her face. Her bottom lip was jutted out in dejection, and it made Obito want to pinch her cheeks. “Apple, apple, apple,” she muttered, and was that anger glimmering in the depths of her eyes? “Apples can't help me protect my soulmates.”
It was mumbled, something that was clearly not meant to be heard, but Obito was a shinobi, meaning he had honed senses. He caught the whispered words easily, and thought that he had heard wrong.
Soulmates?
Why the plural form?
But it was sweet, seeing that this little slip of a child wanted to protect him, when really, he should be the one to do all the protecting; a single strong wind seemed like it could blow her over. She would, no doubt, grow up to be kind-hearted and loving, and he wouldn't be there to see it. No one wanted a criminal for a soulmate. And for Obito, it was too late— he had already chosen this path.
He decided to leave in the evening instead of right away. That night, he tracked down Sakura's house and left her a small present in her room; a dagger, to compensate for the kunai she couldn't get earlier. Obito knew it was her bedroom, because the window sills were pink and too girlish for an adult, and the inside was cluttered with toys and dolls and books.
Quietly, he placed the sheathed dagger on her bed and was about to leave when the door suddenly slammed open.
He could have teleported, but surprise made him blank out. Obito only had the time to cloak himself in the shadows before a familiar child bursted in, carrying a pile of books that towered over her. His hands itched to help; the weight of those books must be so heavy, especially for her small body. Sages, just how much did she like books? She had a voracious appetite for knowledge, it was almost alarming. Maybe he should have brought her a book instead of a dagger.
Intrigued, Obito watched as young Sakura set the books down. The thick tomes hit the floor with a resounding thud, and she clapped her hands in satisfaction. “All done!”
How utterly cute.
Bless the sage who gave him a precious angel for a soulmate.
Maybe he really should have given her a book instead. She was too young to be handling blades after all, and Obito doubted that she would truly become a shinobi when both her parents were clearly just civilians.
Besides, she was too innocent for her hands to be drenched in blood.
“Is someone there?”
Startled, Obito tensed.
Sakura was staring at where he was standing, eyebrows drawn together thoughtfully. Her eyes glimmered under the moonlight creeping in her bedroom window, specks of green swirling beautifully, and he was mesmerized by the sight.
A hundred blessings to the one who gifted him, a bloody devil, such a lovely soulmate.
“Is someone there?” Sakura asked again, and Obito smirked, pleased. Could it be that she could sense him?
Adorable. Very adorable.
The genjutsu hiding him was very thin, and a single kai would be able to dispel it. But Obito was certain that Sakura didn't know how to unravel a genjutsu. Apparently, she was sensitive enough to notice it though.
Amusedly, Obito watched her as she stomped to her bed (cute, he thought) after a few moments of waiting and not getting an answer. She plopped down on the mattress, right beside the dagger, her arms and legs spread so she was forming an ‘x’ with her limbs. It was only a matter of time before she'd find—
“A knife?” he hears a confused question.
Obito suppressed a chuckle.
Seemed like she'd discovered his gift.
Bewildered, the girl sat up and examined the blade curiously. She unsheathed it, skimmed her fingertips across the smooth iron, delight evident by the way her countenance brightened. Then, experimentally, she twirled the weapon.
And Obito almost choked.
The hell?
As far as he knew, civilian children weren't supposed to be able to do that.
The attempt was clumsy, and the dagger almost clattered out of her hands, but Sakura seemed to be expecting that. Deftly, she threw the dagger in the air and expertly caught it by the hilt, a move that was obviously practiced but unfortunately demonstrated by inexperienced fingers.
The display knocked the air out of Obito.
Was his soulmate perhaps a prodigy?
All the more reason to protect her then. In the shinobi world, prodigies are sought for to be molded into living weapons. He couldn't allow that to happen to pure, sweet Sakura. Usually, there are only two outcomes waiting for prodigies.
For lucky ones, trauma.
For the unlucky ones, death.
Trauma or death.
And Obito would rather die than watch Sakura slowly wilt away.
He shifted, and Sakura's head snapped in his direction.
“Who's there?”
Time was up. Slowly his Sharingan began to spin, sucking in air while keeping up the genjutsu, and the last thing Obito felt before transporting himself outside the town gates was chakra— not his — forcefully rippling the air apart.
His eye widened in surprise as he felt his genjutsu being gradually dispelled, and when he blinked, he was already out of town.
Did…did she really just try to undo his genjutsu?
Fuck.
So Sakura really is a prodigy.
Since then, Obito began visiting the town regularly if only to catch a glimpse of his little soulmate. To protect her too, although he doubted anyone else knew about Sakura's capabilities. Where she had learned how to handle a dagger, Obito doesn't know, but he suspects that she learned it from a book. The girl read so many books, and they aren't just fairytales either, no, they are tomes containing fuinjutsu, ninjutsu, and other jutsu things.
What a bookworm.
Approaching her wasn't part of his plans, but Sakura had already begun to notice his presence. It nagged him as a suspicion initially, however, the cunning little girl started to leave hints for him to realize that his subtlety wasn't working. At first, it was a quick glance over her shoulder when she was alone, a brief flash of chakra as a greeting when she was playing in her garden, and a wrapped up sandwich she left as a snack on the foot of the tree he frequented when watching her.
The final straw was when she so casually threw a rock at where he was hidden while she was picking up flowers in the forest.
Little sprite.
The next day after that happened, Obito decided to show himself to her with a chocolate bar in his pocket. What was there to lose? Besides, children liked sweets, didn't they? Hopefully Sakura also loved them. It would make her open up to him more easily.
He soon discovered that Sakura, in fact, does like sweets and has a severe addiction to them. An addiction he gladly indulges her in. Every time he comes to visit her, he brings her a bag of candy or something sugary. It only took him two weeks for Sakura to become attached to him, and isn't she sweet, always greeting him with a hug and a smile brimming with innocence. Her gestures never fail to make his hardened heart melt in affection.
If only she knew, a voice chuckles from within him, how twisted and tainted you are, you wouldn't be enjoying her attention right now.
Which is partly why, when meeting her, he keeps his mask on because he knows children are so easily scared, and his scarred face is horrendous to look at. Obito never told her his real name, deciding that Sakura is better off without knowing that her soulmate is actually older than her.
In some ways, she's like Rin. Full of sunshine, always smiling at the most mundane things, and so endearingly lovely. But Obito hopes she won't end up like Rin.
He's willing to shed as much blood as possible if only to keep her safe.
Her healing abilities are something he didn't expect. Why would he? Civilian children aren't supposed to know about chakra. Chakra for them is like magic. Then he remembers the tons of books in her bedroom and resists the urge to burn them all.
Damn prodigies.
Not that Obito has something against prodigies. Except for Kakashi, of course. However, Sakura being a genius is a blessing and a curse at the same time.
A blessing, because she can sponge up everything she's learned and use them to save herself.
A curse, because if the wrong hands were to find her, she'll suffer throughout her entire life.
But the way she threw him across her bedroom earlier…
Chuckling at the memory, Obito rubs his lone eye, noticing how much his vision has improved. Somehow his eye seems so much lighter, and his vision is less blurred. Sakura's healing no doubt. With her medical talent and strength, she reminds him of Senju Tsunade.
Surely, his angelic-looking soulmate will become a menace in the future.
Change of plans.
He'll be there to see her grow into an admirable woman.
But, soulmates as they are, Obito knows that in the end, they aren't fated to be.
Especially since his little soulmate has three other soulmates other than him.
~~~~
“We'll be moving to Konoha tomorrow,” Sakura says one bright afternoon. Her head is resting on Obito’s lap, her hand outstretched as if to catch the sunlight shining down on her. “You’ll still come and find me, won't you?”
Obito hums, his fingers tangled up in her hair. “Do you want me to?”
A repetition of the conversation they had when they first met. Sakura smiles wryly at the thought. Playfully, she cranes her neck to gaze at her companion.
“And what if I don't?”
Obito flicks her nose lightly. “Then no more sweets for you.”
“Not fair!” she childishly protests, rubbing her nose with a pout. “You know how much I love sweets!”
“How am I going to give you sweets when you don't want me to visit you in Konoha?” Obito asks in faux-ignorance.
Right.
Grumpily, Sakura sits up and tosses her hair over her shoulder. “You can send them to me using your birds,” she suggests. “I’ve seen you use them for deliveries!”
“You brat.” A large hand lands on her head and ruffles her hair gruffly. “You only like me for my candies, don't you?”
She swats his hand away and shoots him a mischievous grin. “You've only just noticed?”
Silence.
Then Obito, with all the indignance he can muster with a mask on, petulantly folds his arms across his chest and ignores her for the rest of the afternoon, much to Sakura's wicked glee.
How immature.
~~~~
They enter through Konoha’s gates in a small caravan containing their basic needs: suitcases of clothes, boxes of small ornaments, food, and many more. Their property in the Land of Tea has already been sold, including the furniture, because Kizashi plans on buying the new furniture here they've settled down nicely. Sakura doesn't blame him— big furniture are very difficult to travel around with.
“Welcome to Konoha!” one of the sentries greets them enthusiastically, and Sakura recognizes him as Hagane Kotetsu. Happy to see a familiar face, she gives them a big toothy grin and waves hello.
The man visibly melts, and roughly elbows his partner while cooing over her cuteness, because she's so adorable, Izumo, look at her—!
Yes, that's right. Sakura sends them an approving nod. Worship her.
She already knows that she's loveable, and currently, that's her greatest asset. Imagine her taking down an enemy with a punch while giggling charmingly about butterflies or some other stupid kiddy things. Pow!
Utterly loveable.
“Do you want some lemon candy, little girl?” Izumo asks her with a fond smile. “I have some in my pocket.”
Huh.
She never knew that Izumo had a soft spot for children.
“Yes, please!” she laughs gaily, stretching out her hands, expectant. “But not too much, Mama will be mad!”
Behind her, Mebuki huffs. “At least you know that.”
Three candies are dropped into her hands, and Sakura thanks Izumo, evidently delighted, before popping one of the sweets into her mouth. Kotetsu watches her with an enamored glint in his eyes, and nods politely at Kizashi walking to them, having just finished signing the papers for admission.
Just for display, Sakura holds out the treats in her hand to her father with a bright smile.
“Papa, these nice men gave me candy. Look!”
“Is that so?” Kizashi chuckles, lifting her up in his arms. She allows him to, scrambling upwards to have a seat on his neck, and not one second later, Sakura feels firm hands grip her ankles to prevent her from falling. Her own fingers find purchase in Kizashi’s thick hair, and she playfully yanks it.
There's a wince, then Kizashi says, “Now, now, honey, behave.”
And Sakura, being the little manipulative brat she is, pouts in protest.
“Will I get more candy if I do?”
Inside the caravan, Sakura hears Mebuki scoff in disbelief. “Who taught you how to bargain?”
“Amai-san did! And Marin-san always haggled with prices at the market,” Sakura nods in the knowing manner most children do when they know something they shouldn't. “Amai-san always told me: deals are deals, and money is money.”
“You are too young to know anything about money.”
Deliberately, Sakura ignores that jab and turns her attention to her father.
“So, Papa, will I get candy if I behave?”
“Kizashi,” comes her mother's warning tone.
Kizashi grins, a bit torn and panicked. “Maybe?”
Maybe? Sakura snorts in indignation. That's not a real answer. ‘Maybe’ can mean ‘yes’ or ‘no’, but more often than not, it means ‘no’.
“Papa…” Sakura presses him, bottom lip quivering threateningly. “You don't love me anymore?”
Ah yes. The infamous “you don't love me anymore” card. Sakura vaguely wonders if the same card will work on Obito.
“I think you already know the answer to that,” Inner Sakura replies. “Even the blind can see that you've got him wrapped around your finger.”
Sakura deadpans. “No, I don't.”
Outside, tears are forming in the corners of her eyes.
“O-Of course I love you!” Kizashi splutters in an effort to keep her from crying (“You little devil,” Inner Sakura hisses at her with glee.). “No amount of candies can measure how much I love you!”
Pitifully, Sakura rubs her tears away. “So you'll buy me candies then?”
“Kizashi,” her mother says bitingly. “I swear—”
“Just for today,” Kizashi caves in, gulping when he feels Mebuki’s glare piercing the back of his head. “Come on, Mebuki, look at her! She's going to cry.”
“And she has been eating too much sweets, Kizashi,” Mebuki scowls, and Sakura glances at her innocently. Her mother wags a finger at her in irritation. “Don't look at me like that, girl. You think I don't know about the wrappers you stashed under your bed?”
Properly chastised, Sakura turns away and makes a face. Ugh. She should have burned them instead of hiding them. Curse her laziness.
True to his word, Kizashi buys her candy when they reach the marketplace on the way to the Hokage’s office. Apparently they have to register as civilians with the Hokage as a witness before heading to their new house. Some of the people they pass by stop to openly coo at her, commenting on her unusual hair color, and even the vendors give her extra treats which Sakura willingly takes with a friendly and pleased grin.
Being a child is the best if one knows how to use it.
“Thank you!” Sakura happily chirps to a black-haired lady who hands her a pack of gummies behind her mother's back. The lady gives her a playful wink before disappearing into the bustling crowd, and Sakura waves her goodbye.
Mebuki raises an eyebrow at her on seeing the gummies in her hand.
And just to spite her, Sakura obnoxiously pops one of them into her mouth, not breaking eye contact.
Her mother shakes her head in exasperation. “Sakura…”
Sakura just grins at her.
Sarutobi Hiruzen gives them a warm welcome upon entering, and although he is alone, Sakura knows there are ANBU watching them from the shadows. Curious, she sends out a trickle of her chakra to get a feel of the air and senses at least four suppressed chakra signatures. A whole squad. Ignorant of what she's just done, Hiruzen gives her a gentle smile which she returns with a polite smile of her own.
“Hello,” the old man greets her. “You've got pretty hair.”
Sakura nods at him sagely. “I know. It's really pretty, right? Mama combs it every morning so it's very smooth and silky, and it's pink! Do you want to touch it?”
Taken aback by her strong approach, Hiruzen’s smile falters uneasily. Sakura mentally rolls her eyes at him. For all his grandfatherly attitude, the Hokage clearly doesn't know how to handle children. No wonder Naruto was so neglected in her past life.
Displeasure fills her at the memory.
She resolves to change that.
“No need to feel pressured, Hokage-sama,” her mother apologetically intervenes. “My daughter is just a bit hyper at the moment.”
“Mamaaaaa,” Sakura whines, forcefully pushing down the resentment whirling up and threatening to spill. All in good time. Her father has long taken her off from his shoulders, so she is now standing and holding his hand. Childishly, she grabs her mother's sleeve and tugs it in a protest.
Mebuki sends her a stern look. “Behave.”
One of the ANBU members’ chakra slightly flares up in amusement— so slight, Sakura wouldn't have noticed it if her senses weren't so keen. The signature is unfamiliar, but Sakura shoots a frisky grin towards their direction all the same. Maybe that ANBU operative is someone she didn't meet in her past life. She feels the operative coil their chakra once more, this time in hesitant acknowledgement, before it completely flickers out and Sakura can't sense them anymore.
She tunes back to her parents’ conversation with the Hokage.
“...merchants, ey?” Hiruzen is saying thoughtfully, fingers laced in front of him. “You plan on establishing a business here then?”
“We already have, years ago. It's partly managed by my mother, Watanabe Aiko, who is a civilian here,” Mebuki replies for her husband who is busy signing some papers by the Hokage’s desk to pay attention. “Our business extends all over the nations, which is why Kizashi isn't often at home, since he has to check the branches and all from time to time.”
“Then I'm guessing you are a stay-at-home mother?”
Something in his tone makes Sakura bristle.
“I am,” her mother easily agrees, but there's a hard edge in her voice that Sakura identifies as aggravation. “However, now that we're living with Okāsan, I expect that I'll be able to join Kizashi on his travels."
The Hokage studies her critically. “But what about the child?”
By now, Sakura is observing some tension between her mother and the man before them. Narrowing her eyes into a glare, she inches closer to Mebuki and clutches her skirt protectively, her chakra spiking up in warning.
Mebuki, being a civilian, doesn’t notice.
But the Hokage is a different story. Surprise ripples in his wrinkled face, and Sakura holds her head up high as he begins scrutinizing her with an unreadable expression. The dagger in her pocket weighs heavily and she resists pulling it out, but her stance remains wary and taut. A sweet smile is plastered on her mouth even as her chakra continues whipping violently in her system as an unspoken threat.
Well.
She didn’t realize this in her previous life, but—
“The old geezer’s a damn misogynist,” Inner Sakura snarls. “What a fucking bastard.”
Sakura agrees with her.
“What about me?” Sakura questions innocently. “Didn’t Mama just tell you that we'll be living with Obāsan? Obviously, she'll be the one to take care of me, Jīchan.”
There’s stunned silence at the attached honorific and sass, but before her mother can react to her disrespect, Hiruzen throws his head back and lets out a booming, entertained laugh. It lasts for a good minute. "Spirited, truly spirited!” he comments, shoulders shaking in merriment. “Your daughter will grow into a very fine woman, madame. She’ll give boys a run for their money with that attitude!”
Sakura blinks. That…was unexpected. Bemused, she glances up at Mebuki, only to see her face glazed over in horror. Oops. Not good. Her father is staring at her with a touch of disbelief, his pen hovering over the documents he’s signing, and Sakura offers him a sheepish shrug.
The chakra signature from earlier surges again in hidden laughter.