Twiceborn: Second Bloom | Alternate

Chapter Five: Akira and Gambling

It was official, Sakura decided as she stared through the window, heart beating furiously as she stared at the figure of the man who was supposed to be dead. Naruto and Sasuke were alive. Konoha had been founded years ago, by the very same men as in her original timeline, she'd heard enough conversations around the village to pick up that little tidbit. Senju Hashirama should've been dead and buried in the ground, but instead he was sitting across from her sister looking no older than his early thirties, if that. Her breath came in short pants, an odd wheeze sounding close by, and it didn't take her long to work out that it was coming from her own throat. She was panicking. Calm down, she told herself, concentrating on her breathing. So Senju Hashirama was alive. No big deal. No big deal at all. That could only be a good thing. He didn't need to be revived to stop his old friend from his idiocy.

It also meant the timeline she knew was well and truly bust. She was fighting blind. The thought had her panicking again, but a sharp slap of her cheeks had her grounding herself again. She'd been through worse, so she wouldn't panic over a tiny little detail like that. She just needed to accept the fact and do some damn research to ease her nerves. Throwing herself in a tizzy wouldn't solve anything. She was better than that. She'd lived through the unknown once before. She could do it again. Sakura pulled herself from the wall she'd slumped against, pulling herself back up to the window so she could peer through again. She'd been planning on slipping through and grabbing her sister before anyone was any the wiser, but with Senju Hashirama sitting there, her plans would have to change. Mainly because she apparently had her father's hair, and seeing as it was likely Obito, that also meant her hair style had an uncanny resemblance to another Uchiha's made all the more prominent by her hair's length. Not to mention her pale skin... black eyes... if she didn't have pink hair the game would've likely been over before it'd even began. As it was, she'd have to be careful. She couldn't get dragged into the mess that was the Uchiha Clan, especially not before the... Sakura trailed off in her thoughts. Would the Uchiha Massacre even occur? Especially with Hashirama alive and well...

Scowling, she tied her hair back, pulling her hair back out of her face, ensuring nothing of the style looked even remotely like Madara's before she yanked her hood up, covering her face as best she could in its shade. That was one comparison she didn't need. She could worry about the possible events of the future later. She no longer knew what the future held, only that she needed to be strong to face it. Her last few weeks of training had brought her body up to scratch, but she knew she was barely scraping the surface of what she was capable of, especially with her new body.

She had the sharingan. That changed everything—

"Anija!" The shout pierced the stillness of the night, a white-haired figure bursting into the room she was staring at. Three damning red lines marred his face, one on either cheek, and a single one on his chin. It summed up the situation in an instant. Not only was Senju Hashirama alive, but his brother, Tobirama, was too. Wasn't that just dandy?

Her self-imposed mission to drag her sister home was becoming more complicated by the minute. She gritted her teeth. Was it that big of a deal if they were discovered? Being part of the Uchiha Clan would at least protect them from Danzo and his cronies. Biting her lip, she went to make her move, only to pause as another figure entered the room with an achingly familiar face. Sasuke's. But at the same time it wasn't... His face was slightly narrower, eyes just a tinsy bit wider, lips a little flatter, but the resemblance was there.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to gamble?" Tobirama huffed, glaring down at his brother in irritation. "Look at how much money you just lost... to a child no less."

Akira pouted.

Sakura bristled.

"Come on," the albino snarled, hauling his reluctant brother to his feet. "We're going home, dammit. I don't need Madara on my arse because of your troublemaking habits. You swore off gambling twenty years ago."