Hiiiiiiii, guys! *waves sheepishly*

This chapter totally got out of hand and is now the longest chapter in this story to date. But quite a few of you have requested to know what the relationship was like before the break up (read: everything went to shit) so I've delivered. We get both Sakura and Madara's perspectives here, which is probably why it's so long, but breaking them up just didn't feel right.

This chapter was emotional to write. I'll expound on that in the bottom A/N, if you're interested in that kind of thing. A lot of this back story was inspired by callmeportgas,who asked this in a review:

"If Sakura had told Madara about her plans before, and maybe wanted to still be with him, would he have let her go and tried to find a way to make it work? I don't mean to imply that it's her fault, because this is all on Madara, but I was wondering how it would have gone down if she'd gone about it differently, if his madness would've made an appearance then?"

That question really got me thinking, and in my reply I came upon inspiration for their back stories and a glimpse into HM's Madara's personality. Anyways, I'm willing to copy/paste my response into a chapter AN if enough of you want me to, but I don't want this author's note to drag on too long without it being requested.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Sakura had nightmares of being sodomized over and over again, and to her horror, when she awoke, the pain wasn't gone.

It had persisted through the night, even though she noticed she hadn't moved a single inch from her position where she'd initially fallen asleep. Her body ached in a way that made her think she wouldn't be sitting down on her rear for at least a week—Madara was endowed. If she would have ever consented to this—which she would have never, even in their relationship—Madara would have had to relax her, to really get her worked up to it, would have had to go so very, very slow.

And he hadn't.

The moment she awoke she was crying all over again, and when she finally shifted because she had to go to the bathroom, she felt something shatter inside her because of the pain. Madara…this wasn't her Madara, and yet it was. It was. It was.

Why was it her Madara?

"That was terrible," he huffed as they exited the movie theater.

Sakura snorted as he held open the door to the waiting limousine for her. "It was a chick-flick. Of course you didn't like it."

"It had nothing to do with being a 'chick-flick,' Sakura," he replied haughtily, climbing in after her. "The acting was horrendous. I don't even know why they cast that man—he was more of a stalker than a love interest. Perhaps he would do better as the antagonist next time."

Sakura couldn't help but bark out a very unladylike laugh. "He's really well-known for his parts in these kinds of movies," she replied, unable to keep her amusement from her voice. "But…I kind of do agree. At least in this one, he was just a little too creepy."

Madara nodded, then casually draped his arm around her shoulders. Sakura stiffened, surprised at the contact, but soon found him warm and comfortable and leaned back against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Next time, we'll watch a movie of my choosing," he announced.

"Oh, is there going to be a next time?" Sakura teased, unconsciously snuggling closer.

"Hm, perhaps," he replied. "I did enjoy myself."

"Even with the stalker love interest?"

"Not the movie," he corrected. He turned his face towards her and spoke, muffled, into her hair. "Spending time with you."

Sakura felt herself flush, unused to the kind, solemn praise he seemed to always be giving her. "W-well, I guess next time you could choose," she said awkwardly, but nonetheless pleased.

She was glad that Madara's younger brother, Izuna, had convinced her to go on a date with him. She had been reluctant at first, attracted but unsure of whether she wanted to get involved with someone so out of her league, of whether they would really make a good match, of what it would mean to date someone who could have any woman he wanted. She was worried about his reputation as a bit promiscuous, about how he could have anyone and anything he wanted, and why on earth would he choose her? So she'd rebuffed him at first, but after a few conversations with Izuna, Sakura had been convinced of Madara's determination to at least give things a shot.

This was their third date, and all seemed to be going well.

He was opinionated, and stubborn, and somehow very alike herself in many ways. But he was also reserved, in his way, and gentlemanly and obscenely dedicated. He held open doors without prompting, pulled out her chair, made sure she took the first bite, insisted on paying for everything, spared no expense in pleasing her—all of his actions made him out to be considerate, chivalrous, and all around a very good man.

He was perfect, almost too much so.

But Sakura was freefalling, loving the banter they had and the witty retorts and the humor and oh, no one could make her laugh like he could or carry on an intelligent conversation about the things that interested her like him. It was only the third date, but Sakura was falling.

Hard.

"I don't know, Madara," Sakura said hesitantly as she looked at the dress in the mirror. "It's a little too revealing for my tastes."

"It's just a small get-together," Madara insisted. "I just want to show off my wonderful girlfriend."

Sakura smiled and blushed a little, but still didn't capitulate. "I feel kind of uncomfortable in it, though," she replied, running her hands down her sides and watching the way the dress didn't so much as ruffle.

Madara came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder and making eye contact with her through the mirror. "You look beautiful," he said. When Sakura remained unconvinced, he went on, "Do you want to know a secret?"

"Sure," Sakura replied, almost dreading what he was going to impart, as certain as she was that he was going to say something bad.

"I just want you to wear it so I can take it off at the end of the night," he whispered lasciviously, gently cupping her breast through the fabric.

Sakura felt herself react immediately, warmth flooding her abdomen and making her insides clench. "Oh, is that so?" she asked breathlessly.

"Hmm," Madara confirmed, nipping her earlobe teasingly. Sakura, easily stimulated by this man, felt a light stickiness at the juncture of her thighs. "But if you don't wear it…"

"You'll withhold sex?" Sakura asked with a snort. "I don't think so."

"I'd like it if you would," he replied seriously. "For me."

Sakura shrugged him off. "I was going to wear it anyway after that," Sakura huffed, trying to will the excess blood from her cheeks. "But maybe…we could do a little pre-gaming?" she suggested in a sultry voice. Without waiting for his response, she grabbed him by the tie and pulled his lips down to hers. He responded wildly, uncaring of her makeup. Sakura knew he wouldn't have said no anyways.

They were going to be late, that was for sure.

"Tell me something, Sakura," Madara said as she lay in his bed one morning after a long night of sex.

"Mm?" she groaned in response. She was exhausted and sore, but also satisfied in a way she'd never been before meeting Madara.

"When would you want to settle down, ideally?"

Sakura felt herself grow a little more alert at that. "Like start a family?"

"Precisely."

Sakura shifted so that her head was tilted back to look at him. "I'm not sure. I haven't given it much thought." She paused. "Why?"

"I was merely curious. No particular reason."

Sakura scrutinized him carefully, but she could find no indication of a lie. Frowning to herself, she rearranged herself so that she was resting more comfortably and closed her eyes, about to drift off.

Her last thought was that if Madara wanted to get married and settle down any time soon, things could become problematic.

"It's the opportunity of a lifetime, Sakura," Tsunade said firmly. "You'd be an idiot to pass it up."

Sakura frowned down at the letter in her hands. She had come to Tsunade immediately when she'd received it—an offer for a partnership at Duke University to study breast cancer and try to find a cure. For some reason, her first instinct had been to go to her mentor and not Madara, which was an odd occurrence since Madara would be more affected by this than Tsunade.

"I don't know what Madara would say," Sakura replied quietly. "I'd have to leave him, since he can't move to America indefinitely with his status, and definitely not for just me. What we have is so good, and…"

"Sakura," Tsunade said, tone so uncharacteristically gentle that Sakura's eyes snapped up at once, "Are you going to marry him?"

Sakura grimaced. That was a question she'd been getting a lot lately, from friends and family and journalists, seemingly everyone, and she could only tell Tsunade what she'd told them: "I don't have any plans for it, but it's not out of the question."

Tsunade growled low in her throat. "Don't give me that diplomatic bullshit, Sakura. It's been three years. You're almost thirty. Your biological clock is ticking, and he's not a spring chicken anymore either. Are you, or are you not, going to marry him?"

Sakura winced and turned her eyes downward, unable to keep looking at her. "I don't know. Part of me says yes, but the other part…"

Tsunade waited patiently as her former student sorted out her thoughts.

Sighing, Sakura said, "Part of me says that this just isn't right for the long term."

"Sakura, you've been with him for three years. That is long-term. If you don't think he's right for any longer than that, then you're with the wrong man. Unless you two are having problems?"

"No," Sakura replied, suddenly feeling guilty that there really wasn't anything actually wrong with the relationship. It meant that there was nothing to be fixed.

It meant that it was dying, slowly but surely, all on its own.

"I think I've said enough," Tsunade said. "It's ultimately your decision, but if you pass up on this for a man you won't even be with in ten years, then you're a fool."

Sakura nodded, feeling strangely shamefaced, and left Tsunade's office.

The next time Sakura saw Madara, she automatically knew, just on sight, that it wasn't going to last, not one more year and definitely not ten.

She was going to do what was right for her and take that job offer, no matter how Madara would react.

If only she'd known.

Sakura trembled with wracking sobs, hurting even more as she remembered how everything had been so good, and then just slowly started to die the moment she was offered something better. Why couldn't Madara see that there was nothing left between them anymore? Why did he insist on forcing himself on her, on forcing her? It wasn't right, it wasn't fair, and it hurt.

It hurt so, so much.

He hated hurting her, but it had been so satisfying to see her façade drop for those few moments, to see the real Sakura hiding beneath her little farce.

He also couldn't deny that she had felt wonderful.

But as he sat in his office on his comfy leather chair, flipping through and assessing paperwork that had been neglected because of Sakura's…arrival, Madara felt a low twinge in his gut that certainly wasn't arousal at the thought of taking her so forcefully in a place that she had never wanted to be penetrated.

He remembered her tears, her pleas, and realized that while it had been nice to see the real her…what he was feeling was the long-forgotten emotion of regret.

Madara really hated hurting her. He loved her so much, and it made him sick in that moment to realize that all he had done with his love for her since she'd been forcefully captured was hurt her with it.

Sighing and putting the papers down, he leaned back in his chair and tried to figure out a way to make it up to her. He didn't want her to hate him, and in his attempt to get her fire back, he had probably started sending her down that road. He wanted what they had had together; he just didn't want her to leave.

He had never wanted her to leave.

The party was dull, as usual, but it was a clan-hosted event and Madara, as head of the Uchiha, was required to be there. At least he hadn't been forced to plan it himself—that was what event organizers were for.

His eyes scanned the crowd. There was a great turnout, but there always was at Uchiha events. A clan revered as near royalty by the public, the Uchiha brought in people from all over the world. It certainly helped that their clan head rivaled the American Bill Gates in wealth and status and connections.

But tonight, that clan head was bored and really just wanted to go home. He vaguely socialized with the people who required socializing, but otherwise, his thoughts were on his bed at home and the business merger with one of his subsidiaries taking place the next morning at eight.

He closed his eyes, sighed silently, and took a sip of his rice wine. It was strong, the way he liked it, and the perfect temperature, and the taste distracted him from Terumi Mei's obscene flirting with Senju Tobirama just several feet away.

He opened his eyes, glanced at his Rolex, and realized that it might just be late enough to call it a night. Looking up, he sought out his little brother, but instead caught sight of pink hair.

Pink hair?

Yes, he realized. Pink hair, pale porcelain skin, and bright, stunning emerald green eyes. He was transfixed by the smile on her face, straight white teeth gleaming as she laughed at a joke her companion was telling her. He recognized the boy: Mayor Namikaze's son, Naruto. Standing next to him was Uchiha Sasuke, whom Madara was vaguely familiar with from clan meetings. Fugaku's son, he remembered briefly. They must have been more or less unimportant if he only knew them as their fathers' children, he noted

Without him realizing it, his feet were leading him towards the pink-haired woman. She was now smacking the Namikaze boy upside the head, a playfully irate expression on her face, and the boy was cringing. Madara couldn't help the smile that twitched at his lips, amused by the fire in her eyes.

When Sasuke noticed his approach, he turned and bowed. "Good evening, Madara-sama," he said, and cerulean and emerald eyes turned to him.

But Madara had never had less interest in the color blue at that moment.

The moment their eyes met, the woman's cheeks flushed pleasantly. He admitted he was pleased by the positive reaction, and couldn't help smirking in response, causing the blush to intensify. Locked in her gaze, Madara only vaguely heard Sasuke introduce Naruto. However, when Sasuke identified the woman as Haruno Sakura, he was immediately paying attention.

"Uchiha Madara," he introduced, bowing lower for her than he would normally for anyone else.

Sakura laughed lightly, the sound like tinkling bells. "Haruno Sakura," she replied.

If the Namikaze boy minded being ignored, he didn't say anything. Madara didn't know him well enough to know that that was extremely out of character.

It felt as though they were the only two people in the room at that moment, as she smiled, a little confused, and he smirked, fully pleased at her attention on him alone, and it only took a meaningful cut of his eyes to Sasuke to indicate that he wished to be alone with her. Sasuke was perceptive enough to catch it, and with the decent excuse of refilling their plates, Sasuke dragged Naruto away and left them alone.

"How are you enjoying the party?" Madara asked, angling his body towards her in a slightly conspiratorial manner.

"Oh, it's wonderful," Sakura said—but didn't gush. She wasn't so obviously impressed as someone who had never been to one of these would be.

"Not your first time at an Uchiha event?" he questioned.

Sakura laughed and shook her head. "No, of course not. Naruto and I have been coming to these things since they-" She abruptly cut herself off, then flapped a hand dismissively. "Well, we've been his plus-twos for a while, anyways."

Madara wanted to ask what she had originally been going to say, but held himself back. Prying questions weren't suitable for light conversation, and that was what this was. But he found himself wanting to know her, really know her, in that moment, everything that made her tick. What made her laugh, what made her frown, what made her cheek flush so pleasantly and if it reached down to her-

He cut off that train of thought and replied as if his mind hadn't taken a turn for the lecherous, "That's odd. I've never seen you before—and I'm sure I would have noticed someone like you."

"'Someone like me,' huh?" Sakura teased. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"Beautiful," he replied shamelessly.

Even though it wasn't what he had sought, he found out that her blushes went past her face indeed—this one seemed to go all the way down to her toes.

She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Ah, well—you know how it is. These things are so crowded." She paused. "Do you go to every one?"

"I'm the clan head," he replied. "Of course I do."

"You're the-wait. Uchiha Madara? The Uchiha Madara?" Her jaw dropped and she gaped at him helplessly.

"Are there more than one of me?" he said, enjoying her flabbergasted expression.

"I-uh, well, that is to say-"

He touched his fingertips to her elbow lightly. "It's alright, Sakura-san. I'm not in the public eye as much as I used to be."

"But you just donated thirteen billion yen to Konoha General! I can't believe I didn't recognize you!"

Madara chuckled, irrationally pleased that she was so aware of his charity donations. "I try to stay out of the tabloids. It's easier that way."

Sakura seemed to gather herself out of nowhere and said with a smirk, "I imagine that would be the goal of anyone who's seen the flash of a paparazzi camera."

"Indeed." He paused. "Can I get you anything? Sake? Champagne?"

Sakura shook her head. "Oh, no, I need to start sobering up. I was actually going to leave soon anyways…"

She trailed off with hesitation, and Madara took that as his invitation to get her to stay longer. "While you wait for some of the alcohol to wear off, there's a private sitting room in the back if you'd like to get off your feet."

Sakura smiled brilliantly, and it was like the whole room had lit up. "I'd like that."

"She didn't!"

"She very much did," Madara replied, taking a sip from his glass of wine. Merlot, 1913. "The first day as my assistant, she spilled coffee over my laptop and it shorted out. It was plugged in, and the office almost caught fire from all the sparks."

Sakura laughed incredulously, the warm sound washing over him like a summer breeze. "What did you do?"

"Well, my files were saved to an external hard drive, fortunately for her," he replied, smiling at her humor, "and it really was an accident that had nothing to do with her. Her shoes were professional, and it wasn't like she was being clumsy; there was a wire that the janitor had left out when cleaning the office, and she tripped over that. So I pushed her off on my CFO, and now they're married with three children."

Sakura blinked, stunned. "You fired the janitor, then?"

Madara shook his head. "He was reprimanded, and he no longer has access to the upper floors, but he still has his job. It was a careless mistake, but as no harm was done, I didn't see any reason to ruin their livelihoods."

The pink-haired woman, dressed in a classy red number for their first official date at the famed Yakiniku no Akimichi, leaned back in her chair, almost but not quite looking disbelieving. "That's…really forgiving of you," she said. "I'd have fired the janitor, no problem."

"You work in a hospital," he reminded her. "Careless mistakes around the sick and vulnerable are different than a few financial documents."

Sakura pondered that for a moment. "I suppose that's true. For a patient, a wire out of place could be the difference between a successful recovery and internal bleeding."

Madara nodded, before deftly changing the subject. "So, what is it exactly that you do at Konoha General?"

As Sakura began to explain her job, Madara couldn't help but take in her liveliness, the way her green eyes glimmered and shined, the way she gestured with her hands, the flush of happiness on her face and how it seemed to make her glow. She was beautiful, but not just that; she was vivacious, kind, and gentle, but also outspoken, fierce, and opinionated. The perfect combination in a woman—not a doormat, but without a single cruel or malicious bone in her body. She was…pure.

And he couldn't get enough of her. He'd been desperate to know her in every way, just from that two-hour conversation at the event—she'd stayed far past sobering up—but she'd shown hesitance. His desperation had become such that he'd actually asked Izuna to interfere on his behalf, because for whatever reason Sakura wasn't seeing his genuineness. He didn't want her for sex—or, well, not just that—he wanted her for her. That sharp, analytical mind; that fiery, overfull heart; that kind, beautiful smile…he wanted them all. He wanted them to be his. Madara was falling, and he'd never felt this way before ever, not even once in his nearly forty years of life.

He was falling, hard and fast, and he never wanted to land.

"Stop, Madara," Sakura whined, trying to push his chest away as he leaned over to suckle her pulse point. "I'm too sore. There's no way I'm going to be able to go for round five."

He paused, grinning into her skin. "What if I work you up to it?"

"Madara…" But she was smiling softly. It was no longer a no.

As he pulled her legs over his shoulders and stared at the heaven between her legs, his mouth already salivating at the sight, Uchiha Madara abruptly and irrevocably knew that he was in love with Haruno Sakura and he would never let her go.

He paused before he descended at the realization, and looked up and made eye contact with her. He didn't have a mirror, but he imagined he looked at her with the kind of wonder a man dying of thirst had meeting the ocean.

She smiled playfully at first, but her brows furrowed when she saw the expression on his face and her lips pursed lightly. "Everything okay?" she asked tentatively.

"I love you, Haruno Sakura," he announced, pouring every ounce of affection he had for her into his words.

She laughed uncomfortably. "You don't have to convince me, you know. Round five is totally happening."

"No," he refuted quietly. "I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it with every iota of my soul."

Sakura sobered quickly at that. "I…I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," he replied, ignoring the crushing pressure in his chest. "Although I do hope to one day hear it back from you."

She smiled, so softly and sweetly that that crushing pressure abated just a little. "You will," she said, and it was promise. "You will."

Why couldn't things still be like that? he wondered, his mind coming back from reminiscing on pleasant memories. Why couldn't she still look at him with that same adoration? When she had stood in his foyer, telling him that she was going to America, her eyes were so cold, her face so bereft of all the affection he had grown used to seeing on her. She had been detached; it was already over for her.

But it wasn't over. It would never be over. Not as long as he lived and breathed. He couldn't lose her.

He wouldn't.

But now, he had taken her three times against her will, two of those times quite brutally, and was keeping her captive in his basement. He'd taken her away from an opportunity to really cement herself in the international medical community, had taken…he'd taken everything from her. Things she hadn't wanted to give.

How had everything turned out so wrong?

I can't believe it, but writing things from Madara's point of view almost - almost - made me feel bad for him. What he's done is wrong, and sick, and I definitely don't feel bad for present Madara, but I just totally understand the feeling of such unrequited love. Of feeling so much more strongly for someone else than they do for you and there being nothing you can do about it as it slowly dies in front of you and there's nothing you can do because there's nothing wrong, nothing to fix.

I, personally, have a phobia of investing more into something than the other person does. Just from personal experience.

BUT do not take this chapter as a sign that things are necessarily going to get better. We've got a look into Madara's mind now, and we have perspective on their relationship, but I think that really just makes the story that much more angsty and emotional. Madara is 100% sick - I hesitate to say evil because this kind of thing is really the reaction of someone who is very unwell, and Madara's actions are reprehensible and he deserves to be put down like the mad dog he is. I stand by Sakura's assessment of this being the dawning of a mental illness. I personally try not to confuse mental illness with moral judgments, although in this case there are limits. You don't let a dog with rabies running around biting people. (This paragraph is a mess sorry it's 1:30am here and I'm dyinnnnnggggg)

In parting, let me know you if guys want to read my response to callmeportgas about what would have happened if Sakura had told Madara about the partnership in America, and also, I'd love it if you would leave a review! This story has gotten so much positive attention and that's been a huge contributing factor to how many updates are coming out and so frequently, too. So if you keep reviewing, I can say with an actual measure of certainty that the chapters will keep coming, too!

Cheers!