MadaSaku Week 0320 Prompts: "Marry me." + "Please tell me you didn't."

Glossary: ojou-sama - rich girl, daughter of the household which one serves, girl of higher status

How to Help a Stray

Abducted – Part II

After a long ride, the van finally parked. Sakura tensed when the engine was cut off. The door opened, the light blinding her briefly while she was grabbed and hauled out of the car. Blinking rapidly, she regained her sight and realized she was back at her father's mansion! This made no sense, he wouldn't kidnap her in such a crude manner!

She was taken to his office but, to her surprise, he wasn't there. In his place, a familiar red-haired man was sitting behind the huge desk, looking through some papers. When she arrived, he put them aside and gave her a neutral look that betrayed none of his emotions. It was her father's right hand man and best lieutenant, Sasori.

At his signal, the gag and restraints were taken off and she was pushed to sit in a chair opposite of him. Sakura gingerly rubbed her hurting wrists and immediately took advantage of her freedom to speak.

"Sasori, what is going on? Why was I kidnapped? Where's my father?" she demanded, confused and thoroughly incensed at being dragged back to the mansion like she was some kind of a package. Or… or a hostage. She ignored the uneasy feeling creeping up on her at finding Sasori casually sitting in her father's chair as if he had any right to it.

"I do apologize for the abruptness, but we needed to act in haste," Sasori replied. "Your father was killed this morning."

"Killed?" Sakura repeated numbly. Her mind spiraled, thrown off-kilter. Her father, dead? That seemed fantastical, almost impossible. The old coot could survive anything, even apocalypse. He was just too stubborn and ornery to die. "But how? What happened? Who did this?"

"He was shot two times, it was an instantaneous death. He didn't suffer. We think it was a rival group that had him assassinated. I'm sorry," Sasori said without much emotion.

Sakura didn't know how to feel. She hadn't spoken to her father in years, only sending perfunctory well wishes on holidays via text message. If he sent her a message, she deleted it without reading and she never responded to his, admittedly rare, calls. Even before that separation, they weren't particularly close as parent and child, partially caused by his older age and distasteful occupation. Sakura came late in his life, a daughter from a second wife. He never said it but she always knew he was disappointed she wasn't a boy. All he wanted was a son to succeed him and take over the "family business".

"Sakura-san," Sasori said, calling her back to the present, his tone only curious as his gaze swept over her in a clinical look. Like he was expecting her to fall apart into a sobbing mess any moment.

Sakura took in a shaky breath and ran a hand through her hair. "I'm fine," she said roughly. "What rival group?" she asked.

"They're called Akatsuki. Their influence in the city has been growing and they've been getting onto our turf. Hagoromo-sama refused to make a deal with them."

"So they killed him," Sakura finished.

"Yes."

Despite her general emotional upheaval, she noticed something was wrong with this picture. Sasori was much closer to her father, shouldn't he be more upset about this? On the other hand, he was never a man prone to showing his emotions. His eyes were always so cold and indifferent and he looked at people as if he was dissecting them. As a young and innocent child she'd avoided him and even now having that inhuman gaze turned on her gave her chills.

"You could've told me all of that without the kidnapping ruse," she brought up unhappily. "What was the point of all of that?"

"It was for your own protection," Sasori replied and her brow creased. She hated that excuse but they insisted on using it like a smokescreen for their real reasoning. "We wouldn't want you falling into Akatsuki's hands."

"What are you talking about? My father's dead, they can't use me as a hostage," she objected.

"And that's where you're wrong. Do you know your father's will?"

Will? Frowning, Sakura shook her head.

"Your father bequeathed everything to you. And in case of your death, it will all go to charity," Sasori informed her. Sakura gasped as if she was punched in the gut, eyes wide as she absorbed this. Could it be that… her father… actually cared?

"Do you understand what this means? You're the only way to get to the money."

And just like that, the reality reasserted itself.

"Blood money," she said with disgust. "Why would he do that? He knew I don't want anything from him! It's like he wanted to paint a target on my back!"

"There's no way to know without asking him," Sasori mused.

Sakura sighed and cradled her temples, battling the incoming headache. She gave him a weary look. "What's the plan then? How do I get out of this… unexpected inheritance?" she asked directly.

Sasori smirked. "The solution is quite simple." He presented her with an opened small box with a ring inside. "Marry me."

"Eh? W-What?" she stammered in shock as she looked him over. But he was so much older than her!

"As your husband, I will be allowed to use the fortune and run the organization in your father's stead and you will be free to do what you want without fear of an attack. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement," Sasori explained.

"You mean a marriage of convenience," Sakura said coolly.

"Call it what you want, the end result is that you will get what you want," he replied with a shrug.

"And what if I refuse?"

"Then you will have no choice but to deal with your inheritance and the organization all by yourself. It is a heavy burden for someone so young, but perhaps you could manage… if you gave up on your studies."

Sakura winced, that idea was completely unacceptable to her! But the truth of the matter was that she didn't want to marry Sasori. He was twice her age and while still attractive, he mostly unsettled her. She tried to imagine him as her husband, but found herself unable to do it. A different silhouette, one that radiated warmth and safety, came to her mind, but she didn't dwell on it. Instead, she cast a longing look at the old-fashioned phone sitting on the desk, itching to call Madara so he would come and bring her home.

"Your answer?" Sasori asked.

"Let me think about it," Sakura said, stalling for time.

With a nod, he leaned back. "You can think until seven. The wedding will commence then."

"Wedding? But I didn't even accept your proposal!" she cried out.

"Everything's been arranged. It's the only logical course of action for both of us. Whether you come to understand it now or later, there's no use in waiting."

Sakura's nostrils flared as she fumed. "I don't want to do this, period. Why should it be you? There are other capable men in the organization, I could just pick someone else," she argued.

For the first time during their conversation Sasori's impassive facade broke. His gaze hardened and he grabbed her jaw harshly, his fingers as cold as a corpse as he tilted her face up. "No, little blossom. It doesn't matter what you want. You will marry me and only me."

Sakura stared back at him defiantly. "Or what?"

"Or you will not leave this mansion."

"You mean to keep me imprisoned?" she asked incredulously.

"As long as you're being stubborn." Sasori gave her a patronizing look, which she despised. "So be a good, obedient little doll and everything will be over soon."

"You don't care that my father is dead. You just want the money," Sakura realized, the truth ringing out in the words as she spoke them out loud.

His lips were tugged into a slight smirk. "Finally noticed? Bravo."

"What are you going to do with it?"

"Didn't I already tell you?"

She looked at him with disgust. "You're just the same as those Akatsuki people. Greedy, selfish, manipulative, heartless criminal!" she hissed out.

"I am simply smarter than most," he replied arrogantly. "You think any other man you choose for a husband wouldn't only care about your inheritance, ojou-sama?" Sasori openly mocked. "Get real, that's the only thing of worth you have. The other one would be your beauty," he said with a leer, squeezing her face until her eyes watered, "but that is not going to last for long. Only eternal beauty is worth pursuit."

Sakura glared daggers at him. "You bastard," she whispered harshly, close to tears of sheer, unadulterated anger.

"Your petty insults do not bother me, little doll," Sasori said and chuckled. "Call me what you want, but we both know what the end result will be. You have no other choice if you want your freedom."

Sakura clenched her jaw in frustration. "You won't get away with this," she said.

"Oh, but I will. Wife," Sasori called her and she shuddered. "It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

She gave him another hateful look. "Let me go."

Sasori released his hold at last. "Take her to her room. The dress will be delivered to you shortly. Wear it. Remember, the ceremony is at seven in the main hall. I would simply hate for you to be late, so I will send my people to bring you when it's time."

Sakura glowered as she was frog-marched out of her father's office.

.

A scared maid helped Sakura put on the wedding dress when it arrived. Sadly, she didn't know the woman, who must have been hired after she'd left the mansion and the maid was too cowed by Sasori and his men to try helping Sakura in any meaningful way.

Sakura pressed her forehead to the cool window pane. She was truly cornered. Her mind flashed back to the day she'd met Madara. How she wished he'd come to her rescue and kick Sasori into the curb… But that wasn't possible, everything was happening so quickly that before he'd get suspicious of her absence, the wedding would be long over. Besides, she knew what Sasori and his ilk were capable of to get what they wanted, these were the men under her father's iron rule… As much as she wanted Madara to rescue her, it wasn't worth him getting shot or worse. She wouldn't forgive herself if that happened.

The only other option was suicide, but Sakura wasn't that desperate. Dying just to spite Sasori seemed too melodramatic for her. She'd just have to find another way to get back at the bastard.

There was a commotion outside, then Sasori barged in, wild-eyed and with a gun in hand. "Come with me!" he ordered and grabbed her arm painfully. He dragged her along, away from the sounds of fighting and shots.

"What's going on? Where are you taking me?" Sakura demanded, digging her heels in.

He slapped her. "Shut up."

She cradled her sore cheek and gave him a scorching look, but stayed silent. He took her to the underground garage. "Get in," he ordered, gesturing with the gun at the black SUV. Having no choice, Sakura obeyed. Sasori took the wheel and first locked the passenger's door before starting the engine.

"Are you going to tell me what's happening?" Sakura asked again.

Sasori's gaze flickered to her as he drove out of the garage. "We had some unexpected guests so I'm moving the wedding venue."

Her heart thumped with hope when she heard about those 'guests', but before she could ask more, Sasori cursed and stopped the car abruptly. The exit of the second, less used driveway leading out of the grounds was blocked.

"What is a garbage truck doing here?" Sasori muttered in angry disbelief.

Sakura stared, her mouth open. A garbage collector was loading the trash into the truck, whistling like nothing was amiss. He was wearing a baseball cap, but that wild black hair pulled up in a ponytail was unmistakable to her.

Sasori lowered the window and stuck his head outside. "Get this thing out of the way!" he shouted to the man.

Instead of getting into the truck, the man came up to the car with an empty trash receptacle in tow. He left it nonchalantly right in front of the hood.

"Didn't you hear me?! You're blocking the way. Don't keep me waiting," Sasori said with irritation.

"I'm just bringing this back, it's part of the job," the man said, patting the receptacle. "Do you have a smoke?"

"No," Sasori replied flatly.

"Then maybe a tip?" the garbage man suggested brazenly, grinning as he leaned on the car. "I got a little tired after hauling trash all day, but a tip could help me get going faster."

"Fine!" Sasori bit out and tore a bill with high denomination out of his wallet. "Just get your truck out of the way." He handed the money off when the man grabbed his wrist and pulled.

Sasori wasn't strapped in and in his surprise he didn't resist. An elbow strike to the head befuddled him, then the man in one brutally swift move tugged his arm upward and broke it against the window's edge with a resounding crack. Sasori let out a sharp scream which was silenced by a hard punch to the head. The man reached inside and opened the door, then hauled Sasori out of the car and dumped him to the ground a few paces away with a solid kick.

Sakura clicked the passenger door open and jumped out of the SUV. "Madara! What are you doing here?" she cried out, running to her rescuer. She was so happy to see him that she could kiss him, but in the last moment she settled on wrapping her arms around him tightly and squeezing.

He hugged her back gently. "I came to get you, stupid."

With a shuddering laugh, she pressed her face into the side of his neck. "How did you know I needed your help?" she asked.

"It was all Kakashi's plan. He's out front, leading the charge of the loyal Otsutsuki faction against Sasori's men," Madara told her. So that was the source of fighting in the mansion. Sakura absorbed the information.

"What now? Do we call the police to take care of this mess?" she asked.

Madara gave her a neutral look. "Is that what you want?"

It sounded appealing to her. She wouldn't mind if they all went to jail, they certainly deserved that for their many crimes working for the yakuza, but… from Madara's words, this Kakashi and his people saved her with their actions. It wouldn't feel right to turn her back on them. She might have not liked them or approved what they were doing for a living, but she owed them. With a shake of her head, she discarded the idea. "Forget that. Let's just get going. The police should show up anyway and it's better if we're gone when that happens." She didn't want the additional headache of dealing with the authorities. Let her put this whole day behind her.

"Exactly my thought," Madara agreed with a nod and a smirk lightened his devilishly handsome face.

Sakura realized then that she was still pressed up to him. Her cheeks heated up and she stepped away hastily. "L-Let's go," she said, turning away.

"You're not going anywhere, doll," Sasori said and she spun around in shock. When did he get up? She thought he was out cold!

Sakura froze at the sight of the gun trained on her. Sasori no longer looked so untouchable and powerful after his close meeting with Madara's fists and tumble onto the ground. He slowly got up from his knee, the broken left arm hanging limply at his side. His once pristine suit was dirty and disheveled now and he was bleeding from a nasty scrape on his temple. However, his eyes were as cold as ever, piercing her like icepicks, and the hand holding the gun was steady. Sakura shuddered, recognizing that even in a murderous rage he didn't lose his head. That only made him even more dangerous to deal with.

Madara swore and moved, but Sasori cocked his gun. "Don't. Move. Or she dies," he threatened.

"You can't kill me. You won't get the money," Sakura said, not quite able to control the tremble in her voice.

"It might be much harder to do, but I might fabricate our marriage certificate if I have to. So don't make me have to," he replied smoothly.

"Marrying a woman on the same day you had her father killed? You're an audacious fellow," Madara commented, hands hanging loosely at his sides.

Sakura inhaled sharply at that. She couldn't be disappointed with a man she had no expectations for, but she should have figured that one out on her own. "So you're a liar as well," she said with disdain.

"I told you only the truth. Akatsuki killed him, not me," Sasori replied.

"You only sold him out and they did all the dirty work for you so your hands are clean. Smart," Madara said. "What's next?"

"Sakura, get into the car," Sasori ordered. When she didn't move at once, he shot into the air. "Now!" he barked.

Sakura flinched. "And if I don't?" she asked defiantly, but her face was drained of colour.

Sasori changed his aim to Madara. "Then he dies."

Air left her lungs. Her desperate eyes locked onto Madara's. His look was strong and reassuring and something passed between them. Sakura felt she could trust him no matter what. He was going to get them out of this. Go, he mouthed at her with a nod.

She turned to go around the car back to the passenger door. When she was almost there, Madara yelled. "Run!"

Her pulse spiked and without thinking, Sakura ducked her head low and shot off towards the driveway's exit. She heard a clatter and sounds of the struggle behind her. She hid behind the fence of the mansion and looked back.

When Madara told her to run, it created a momentary distraction on Sasori's part which Madara used to reach behind himself and grab a lid of the metal trashcan which he then threw at the yakuza. Sasori, having only one able arm in which he was holding the gun, clumsily put it up to guard his face. Madara lifted the whole trashcan and rushed at him. Sasori didn't have time to aim or a clear line of shot with the obstruction in the way and he was rammed back with it. Despite that he still tried to reach around it and shoot, but Madara struck at his wrist and the gun clattered to the ground along with the trashcan. Both barehanded, the two men charged into a close combat.

Observing from the safe distance, Sakura was sure that on even ground Madara would wipe the floor with his opponent, however the rising cheer got stuck in her throat when it appeared that Sasori was a foe of a much different caliber than your usual run of the mill street thug. Even with a broken arm, the slick bastard wasn't giving an inch! It was almost like he didn't feel the pain in it anymore as he swung it around unexpectedly, hitting Madara with a cross. Her eyes widened and doubt creeped into her mind. At this rate, Madara might even…

Sasori kicked the trashcan lid under Madara's feet, then went low and tackled him. Madara's head hit the concrete and he saw stars. In a flash Sasori was on him, the barrel of his recovered gun under Madara's chin.

"I can use cheap tricks too, garbage man," he hissed, digging his knee hard into Madara's gut and taking his breath away. "Time to die," he said with a snarl.

"Hey, asshole! Go to hell!" A hand clamped on his shoulder and swirled him around right into a heavy punch that broke his nose. Blood gushed out, but another blow already landed on his jaw, shattering it on the spot. Sasori went out like a light and he fell over, this time knocked out for real.

Sakura was breathing hard, standing bent over him in the white wedding dress, red dripping from her split knuckles. As she shook out her sore hand, she had a stray thought that the karate lessons her father had forced her to take at last paid off.

"The wedding is cancelled. Shannaro…" she said to her downed enemy.

Madara groaned, pushing himself up with one arm. She went to his side. "Are you alright?" she asked anxiously.

"Fine," he wheezed out. He got on his knees and lifted the gun quickly from Sasori's limp grasp. Sakura's eyes widened in alarm when she caught his calculating glance between the loaded weapon and the vulnerable enemy. He wouldn't…

Instinctively, she grabbed the wrist of his hand holding the gun. "Throw it out," she said roughly through a clenched throat. Fear and revulsion were swimming in her green eyes. He wasn't like her father, he wasn't… he couldn't be, not Madara, please, not him…

Madara's hard look thawed and he nodded. Sakura released a breath and let him go. They stood up and he threw the gun into bushes. Thankfully, he was wearing protective work gloves all this time, so he left no fingerprints on the weapon.

The shouts and sounds of fighting from the mansion were drawing closer. Sakura and Madara exchanged startled looks, then he tugged on her hand. "Come on, we're getting out of here."

They hurriedly clambered into the driver's cabin and drove off in the garbage truck, leaving the mansion full of warring yakuza behind them. Sakura looked herself over in the overhang mirror. Her pink hair was mussed, which she combed through with her fingers, and she was still flush with adrenaline. She closed the mirror and glanced sideways at Madara, slightly scuffled in his navy jumpsuit. She imagined they made an unlikely pair. What would anyone think if they saw them? A yakuza bride elopes from her wedding with a garbage collector, she pictured a tabloid headline and giggled.

Madara sent her a quick glance. "What's so funny?" he asked in a rumbling tone. He was amused too.

"Oh, nothing," Sakura said, still grinning from ear to ear. "I'm just… happy."

She couldn't find better words to describe it. It was a hefty, uplifting feeling. She just felt so free! And the one who made it possible was him. Sakura touched his arm.

"Thank you for coming for me," she said sincerely.

He took his eyes off the road for a brief moment and gave her a soft look. "Anytime."

Sakura took her hand off him. She couldn't stop beaming. The road outside seemed unfamiliar though.

"Where are we going?" she asked in confusion.

"To the depot. I need to return the truck. Yamato's probably getting grey with every second," Madara said in amusement.

She pursed her lips. "Why would he… Please tell me you didn't."

Madara said nothing. She stared at him in disapproval.

"You stole the garbage truck?" she asked.

"I only borrowed it. Now I'm giving it back."

"You still don't have your license! Won't you get in trouble for this?" she asked worriedly.

"It'll be fine. Yamato's not a hardass, he will understand this was an emergency."

Sakura snorted. She didn't share Madara's blasé attitude about this. "I hope so. You better apologize to this poor man for giving him so much trouble today."

Madara huffed, but didn't argue. So he recognized how his rash actions affected his coworker, he was just too proud to admit his guilt out loud to her. She would take it as a victory.

Satisfied, Sakura squeezed his arm again and sat back, watching as the garbage truck ate up the road in front of them and the last rays of the sun burned above the darkening urban skyline. She didn't know what would happen next, but with Madara at her side she was not afraid to go and meet the future, trusting it would all turn out alright.

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AN: Thanks for reading! I intended this as the end of the story. There's a room for continuation and I have some ideas, but for now I'm going to mark it as complete. I can be persuaded to write more in this universe of yakuza, but it all depends on you, my dear readers.

Please let me know how you liked this chapter and the whole story in a review. I will appreciate your comments.

Until next time!