"You're not distracting me with that again, are you? I'm not a genin any more," said Sakura. She hadn't looked up from the chart in her hand, but knew her patient was deliberately baiting her for a reaction, specifically because he was being so silent—

—while sitting shirtless in her private office instead of the patient examination room her triage nurse had directed him to.

When he didn't reply, she huffed mildly and mentally prayed for patience.

"Your chart doesn't list a reason for your visit," she stated, finally glancing up at him.

Her eyes widened and she swallowed a curse.

"You should have mentioned it was your Sharingan!"

"This cannot leave this office," Madara stated, voice clipped and somewhat… tired?

Sakura's brows drew together as her healing chakra glowed between her palms.

To be in so much pain he didn't even attempt to sass her back? This wasn't like her former sensei at all. She stood between his knees, ignoring his usual barrier of personal space, and touched her hands directly to the skin of his temples. Her thumbs rested just beneath his bleeding eyes.

"What happened," she asked, immediately sending a soothing, relaxing frequency of energy through the pain receptors of his ocular nerves. She tried to reduce his inflammation next, but the damage was extensive. "All information is kept confidential and is used strictly for the purposes of diagnosis and treatment," she relayed to him, trying to loosen his tongue. If there was a more reticent bastard than Uchiha Madara in the village, it was a mystery. Well, except for perhaps Tobirama. But she wasn't going to dip a toe in the dark waters between those two shinobi. She had her hands full of the one in front of her. Literally.

When the silence stretched, Sakura pulled away from Madara a moment to visually inspect him for other, outward trauma—until he reached up calmly and caught her wrists in his large hands, holding them to his cheeks. Immediately and instinctively she released more soothing chakra into his system and was surprised at the soft sigh of release that slipped between his lips.

"A moment," he requested, letting his eyes close fully.

Unhappy at the delay but sensing he needed a moment to compose himself, Sakura waited. Unconsciously she leaned into him to listen to his quiet voice. His grasp on her wrists flexed as she did so, and Sakura looked over his face carefully to try and read his expression. When he leaned forward, slumped really, his shoulders rounding as his proud carriage faltered with the relief of her soothing chakra, she let her own shoulders relax.

"You're exhausted," she said with gentle reproach. "You should listen to your students more, you know. When was the last time you ate a proper meal? Or slept a full eight hours?"

Madara grunted softly and Sakura shook her head at him. "You need a keeper. Hasn't anyone in your clan stepped up to assist you?"

"None of your concern," he murmured in a gravelly voice.

"It's my concern when it affects my team. My medical team," she clarified. They hadn't been on a team together… in… She turned her focus back to his enraged ocular nerves, shifting her weight to her other foot. Her private office didn't have anti-fatigue mats on the floor like the regular examination rooms and she'd chosen fancier shoes than she would normally wear as she wasn't due on rounds for another hour or so. Normally fine for working at her desk, but not for remaining on her feet for long periods of time. She wouldn't waste her chakra healing her aching calves, either, before she started on those rounds. Her patients needed her at optimal performance level… which she obviously wouldn't be in, either, if Madara was going to be visiting her during her office hours like this.

"How long has it been like this?" she asked instead, focusing on the injury.

"Several weeks or months. It was temporary and became permanently irritated approximately six weeks ago," he answered.

"How have you been hiding this for a month and a half?"

"The clan has been… busy," he replied.

Ah. So he was using clan business as an excuse to sequester himself. She wanted to bash his head in.

"Next time, just stop by my apartment in the evening," Sakura sighed. "I can untangle this now, but it would be better to do it before you go to sleep at night so that your eyes can rest and recuperate for five to seven hours after."

To her surprise, instead of refuting her offer Madara's grasp shifted on her wrists from one of support to cup her hands, in humble gratitude.

"The clan cannot know," he said.

Sakura snorted. "You'll have to make up a good excuse if they find out you're coming to my place after hours." She grinned at him, since his eyes were still closed and he wouldn't see her cheeky expression. "If anyone asks, I'll tell them you're a tiger in bed," she mock-whispered, before giggling.

To her surprise, Madara chuckled low in his throat before stroking her hands. His features relaxed somewhat in mirth.

"Ah. Thank you," he murmured, his lips twisted wryly.

"Anytime, Mada-sensei," Sakura replied, smoothing her thumbs across his cheeks before closing her eyes and missing the flash of expression across his features. "Now, don't fight me on this, but if you aren't able to get six hours of uninterrupted rest at home, I'd rather you remained overnight at my place in the guest room." She added, "Mostly because even ANBU can't crack my wards."

"How are you summoned for emergencies or missions?" he asked. In case he needed to be contacted, it would be best for him to have some means of communication while at Sakura's. If he took her up on it.

"Ah, well, there are two individuals who know how to get through. And they're pretty choosy gatekeepers to begin with," she added.

He groaned low in his throat.

"Those two," he muttered.

Sakura smiled. Some things never changed, she thought.

They made quiet conversation here and there for the remaining session. Through the entire healing, Madara's hands never left hers.

TBC?