Save me | yandere! (various uchiha) x reader

Thirty-three

The night was quiet, a thick, heavy kind of silence that wrapped around me like a suffocating blanket.

I stirred from my sleep, barely aware, but the faint sounds at the edge of consciousness pulled me back to awareness.

The gentle rustling of fabric, the soft creak of footsteps. I blinked, adjusting to the darkness, and that's when I saw him.

Madara stood at the edge of the bed, his broad silhouette unmistakable in the dim moonlight that filtered through the curtains.

He was holding Arata, my son's small body limp in his arms, still sound asleep. For a moment, my heart stilled, a strange sense of alarm washing over me as I watched, holding my breath.

"What...?" I whispered, barely audible, but Madara's gaze flicked down to me, sharp and assessing.

"It's late," he murmured. "I'm taking him to his own room."

A surge of emotions hit me all at once...relief, confusion, fear. I didn't move or say anything else, watching in silence as Madara carefully cradled Arata's head, adjusting him before turning toward the door.

He walked slowly, with a kind of gentleness that felt foreign on him, as though he were carrying something fragile, precious. It was a side of him I hadn't seen before, a glimpse into something he kept hidden.

The door clicked shut behind him, and I was left in the silence, feeling the weight of that small moment linger around me.

I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, my thoughts swirling. It didn't make sense. None of this made sense...this man who had torn through my life, taken so much from me, yet held my son with a softness I couldn't understand.

A man who could tear apart worlds with his ambition, yet was now pacing the halls at night to carry a sleeping child to bed.

Before I could make sense of it, the door opened once more. Madara reappeared, moving back into the room with that same quiet grace.

He glanced at me, his expression unreadable in the dark as he approached the bed and crouched down beside me.

"You didn't need to worry," he said softly, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. His touch, surprisingly tender, caught me off guard.

I hesitated, unsure how to respond. All the things I wanted to say, demand, and question were tangled up in my throat, held back by the weariness that had settled in my bones.

He seemed to sense my hesitation, and without another word, he lifted me slightly, pulling me against him, holding me in his arms in a way that felt strange.

Intimate.

And for once, there was no force or pressure...just a quiet kind of calm as he held me.

"There won't be a wedding," he said softly, his voice almost gentle as he broke the silence.

My eyes snapped open, confusion and disbelief twisting in my mind. "What?" I whispered, my voice shaky, laced with confusion.

"Not yet," he clarified, his tone steady. "Instead... we'll hold an engagement party."

An engagement party. The words echoed in my mind, foreign and unexpected. I searched his face, trying to understand the meaning behind it. "Why?"

He didn't look away, his gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that unsettled me. "A public gesture," he murmured. "A way to keep appearances without the pressure of marriage. For now."

His thumb brushed lightly over my cheek, and despite myself, I felt something in me relax, some of the fear and tension melting away, though I couldn't shake the unease that lingered.

"Just rest," he said, his voice low, almost comforting as he held me close. "We'll talk more tomorrow."

The weariness settled back over me, pulling me under. And as I drifted off, I couldn't shake the strange feeling of being caught in something I couldn't fully understand—a dance of control, protection, and something else I couldn't quite name.

But for the first time in a long while, I let myself give in, sinking into the quiet, knowing the battle would return with the morning light.

---

Three days passed, and I could feel the subtle shift in my own heart and mind as Arata and I slowly adapted to the Uchiha's world. The grandeur, the pristine halls, and the luxurious spaces that felt foreign at first were becoming, reluctantly, our new normal.

This particular morning, I sat with Arata in the living room of the private floor that Madara had arranged for us. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting a warm glow over the room as I gently massaged conditioner into his soft curls, focusing on each strand and enjoying the brief peace that these quiet moments brought.

"Mom," Arata's small voice piped up, pulling me from my thoughts. "When will I see Uncle Genma and Aunt Aki again?"

His innocent question struck something deep within me, a pang of guilt and unease twisting in my chest. Genma and Aki had been constants in Arata's life—family we could trust, people he loved as much as he loved me. I could still see his joyful face as he ran toward them, laughing and carefree, a sight that now felt like a distant memory.

I hesitated, unsure of how to answer without revealing too much, without adding worry to his young heart. "They're... just busy right now, sweetheart," I managed, though the words felt hollow. "But I promise, we'll see them soon."

Arata looked up at me, his face thoughtful, as though he sensed there was more to it, but thankfully, he didn't press further. I was grateful for that, but the ache lingered, a reminder of everything we'd had to leave behind, all the people who had been part of our lives.

A sudden knock at the door echoed through the room, drawing both our attention. The doors leading to the hallway were closed, but I could hear murmurs and the sound of heels clicking against the floor outside. I gently set Arata down, smoothing out his curls as he turned to look curiously toward the door.

I opened it to find a small team of well-dressed individuals, their presence polished and professional. One of the women, a petite woman in an elegant blazer, stepped forward, clipboard in hand and a welcoming smile on her face.

"Good morning, Y/N," she greeted me warmly. "I'm Mayumi, and we're here to take your measurements for the engagement party tomorrow."

I glanced back at Arata, who had stood up, now watching the team with a mixture of curiosity and excitement. It was clear they weren't just here for me—they had prepared something for him, too.

As they entered, one of the assistants, a friendly-looking man, knelt down to Arata's level, introducing himself and offering a handful of color swatches for Arata to choose from. Arata's eyes lit up, his small fingers reaching for the vibrant shades of blue and green.

Mayumi guided me toward the center of the room, where she and her team began to take my measurements. I stood still, feeling the gentle tug of the measuring tape as they wrapped it around my shoulders and waist, but my mind was somewhere else, drifting back to Arata's question.

The measurements, the party, the elaborate clothes—all of it felt like a mask, something to hide behind as we played along with Madara's plan.

And yet, I couldn't shake the discomfort in my chest, the sense of something slipping further and further out of my control.