Fandom [naruto] halfbreed || itliveswithin & arbus

[roxybirdie]

"I am not the one running around sniffing things like some dog because of my advanced sense of smell!"

The sheer indignation radiating from the Clan Head elicited a laugh. It was relatively light, but it momentarily alleviated the weight on his wearied shoulders. "Woof," Kakashi snarked. The fabric of his makeshift mask stretched upward, indicating a grin. "Better a mutt than a mangy cat," he pointed out. His charcoal eyes glimmered with unbidden mischief. "Perhaps, I should remind you wolves bite," he teased. As he gazed at the fuming ravenette, the half-Hatake had the sudden urge to card his fingers through the older man's unruly locks. Before he could contemplate the unforeseen desire—

I'm not sure how to reply yet! Kakashi arched an eyebrow, unperturbed by the Clan Head's waspish tone. I don't know if it is a good idea to partake. He hummed thoughtfully. They will want to avoid being sitting ducks. The war veteran couldn't fault Madara for his reluctance. I want to talk to your mother before I make a decision. His lips twitched, but he remained silent. He watched as — truthfully, Kakashi was surprised it took the Clan Head this long to connect the dots — realization dawned on the raven's face. The half-Hatake mentally counted down.

Three, two, one—

"She knows."

"Cover story," Kakashi corrected. He averted his gaze, staring at the blue, blue sky. "Hatake Nōka may be my great-great-grandmother, but I could hardly waltz in and claim to be her long lost son unless I told her the truth. She, along with her mate, Hatake Ginjiro, and her partner, Shinra, are aware," he elaborated. His eyes softened a bit. "She'll never replace my mother, but I still call her kaa-san." Suddenly, a thoughtful look adorned his face. "Besides—" The war veteran raised his hands and unfastened his dark handkerchief. Once it fluttered to his lap, Kakashi directed his attention to Madara. "—I think she would remember if she had a child nineteen years ago," he announced. A breeze swept past the younger Hatake, ruffling his unruly fringe. The vertical scar over his left eye extended from above his eyebrow and down to (almost) his jawline.

Without the handkerchief shielding his face, his uncanny resemblance to his ancestor was apparent, down to the beauty mark on the left side of his chin. Subtle Uchiha attributes — from the curve of his cheekbones to the thickness of his long eyelashes — are evident. Not enough to deter the resemblance, but a stark reminder of his altered bloodline. "I been told I look a lot like her," the halfbreed pointed out dryly.

 

[arbus]

"Better a mutt than a mangy cat."

"I told you to stop calling me that!" Madara raged right through the sudden warmth creeping up his chest and the particular tingle on the spot on his neck that still showed two fading puncture marks. But before he could throw himself into a rant about the importance of civility and how he very much was not mangy, because he bathed, thank you, Kakashi's hands rose to the handkerchief covering the lower part of his face. Madara watched as, seemingly out of nowhere, the long fingers loosened the fabric, until the makeshift mask dropped.

Madara stared unabashedly.

The bastard was beautiful. Kakashi's face was built along sharp angles and soft curves: perfectly symmetrical lines tracing along the verge of femininity, leading into a pointed chin; the dark grey eyes in stark contrast to the perfect paleness of his skin, marred by a single long scar (blindness, then the gift) that somehow only enhanced his beauty. Madara took all that in in a heartbeat, but his eyes dropped to Kakashi‘s mouth almost immediately and lingered, the curve of those lips, the beauty mark —

"I been told I look a lot like her."

“More or less“, he croaked, and no, his voice did not just crack on the last syllable. He sprang to his feet, ignoring his screaming muscles and his racing heart. Madara was aware that he was flailing helplessly, but he could do nothing to reel in the want that bubbled up inside him with such force that he felt positively dizzy. There was only one way to go; he hurtled himself forward into a blind fit of senseless and irrelevant accusation.

He pointed a finger at Kakashi.

„I knew something about that story was fishy“, he spat, „Cover story! Admit it, you enjoyed every last moment of feeding that to us.“

Just short of harrumphing, Madara crossed his arms over his chest. Although he was facing Kakashi, his gaze was directed off to the side, as if directly looking at the other's bare face was somehow indecent (was a bit like looking directly at the sun). There was color on his cheeks. He felt somewhat hot all of a sudden. The sun burning down on his neck and back did nothing to help, though even less helpful was Kakashi‘s lean frame in the navy yukata, and those impossibly disheveled hair. "And get yourself a fucking comb", he added belatedly and seemingly out of nowhere, before silence dropped like a too stuffy blanket.

 

[roxybirdie]

"I told you to stop calling me that!"

A chuckle rumbled inside his chest. His lips curled, revealing a glimpse of his sharp incisors. "Your hair's getting puffier, Madara," Kakashi mused unabashedly. Without the dark handkerchief shielding his face, the unrepentant smirk on his face was visible. His charcoal hues glimmered with amusement. He tilted his head, regarding the older Uchiha. "If you arranged it like so—" He pantomimed feline ears on his head. "—it'll only prove my point," he pointed out. All the sudden, the Clan Head sprung to his feet. His muscles tensed, preparing for a sudden tackle or—

More or less. Kakashi blinked. Admit it, you enjoyed every last moment of feeding that to us. He gazed at the accusatory finger inches from his nose. The half-Hatake lifted his eyes, a flicker of bewilderment evident in his stormy grey hues. "You know the answer to that," he announced. Of course I did was left unsaid. Witnessing a flailing — if he had to describe it, the abrupt movement reminded him of a cat being sprayed with water — Madara was unmistakably comical, to the point it left him momentarily speechless. Kakashi didn't know if he should laugh or feel concerned.

"And get yourself a fucking comb,"

The war veteran snorted. Without warning, he dissolved into laughter. The sheer absurdity of the Clan Head's reaction was too much. His shoulders trembled from the force of his elated amusement. Kakashi clutched his stomach as he laughed, mindful of his ribs. He tipped precariously to his side, but the half-Hatake flattened a palm on the floorboard, stabilizing himself. Unlike his previous light chortles or brief cackles, it was a gut-busting roar. It brightened his entire face and without his makeshift mask, not a trace of his jubilance was hidden. "Y-you need a comb more than I do," he snickered. Kakashi gestured to the raven's face. "You're blushing." As his laughter dissipated, the silver-haired shinobi arched an eyebrow.

"How cute," he declared.

 

[arbus]

At the sound of what was unmistakably a snort, Madara's eyes flickered up.

There was a look of bewilderment on Kakashi's (pretty damn) face, and then it transformed into amusement and from there into hilarity. All of these emotions were written so plainly on the canvas of his face. There was so much to take in when Kakashi burst out laughing, his shoulders shaking, clutching his stomach for kami's sake. And Madara all but deflated, sapped of an anger that had been superficial to begin with. He found himself stunned by the sight. His arm lowered slowly, almost dazedly. His sharingan eyes spun to life to take it in, to record and commit to memory. It was a sudden, burning need. It would serve as an incentive, a different one from the horrific images of a man turning to ash, but just as powerful. This was what Madara owed Kakashi, this was what he had taken from him.

This was what he wanted for him.

Madara knew Kakashi was laughing at him. He possessed enough self-awareness to know when he was behaving like an idiot (though not enough to ever admit that to anyone) and he responded with a smile, small but vulnerable in its honesty and the fondness that lay behind it.

But like with everything good and bright, this moment too held a renewed pang of loss and grief in its wake, as if the happiness served as a stark reminder of how deep the pain of Izuna's death ran. If only his brother could be here and see. Madara knew he would have come around on Kakashi, once he had understood what kind of man he was.

"It's warm", he murmured, impatiently rubbing the heel of his hand against his cheek as if he hoped to rid himself of the heat that had risen in his cheeks. His eyes had long turned back into their deep black, and with the sun in his back he somehow hoped Kakashi was none the wiser that he had activated the sharingan in the first place. He cleared his throat.

"Make sure you get enough rest", he declared, more soberly now, "I intent to pay your clan a visit in one week's time, and I expect you to accompany me, fully healed." He said it as if Kakashi could somehow mend his own bones by sheer will, almost accusatory. "If you want scrolls from the library, all you have to do is ask Natsuki to bring them to you."

 

[roxybirdie]

"It's warm,"

His eyebrow arched higher. "Oh?" The war veteran looked unimpressed, as if he saw through the Clan Head's ruse. In the midst of his (prior) cackling, his perceptive eyes spotted a glimpse of vermillion. Instead of inquiring about the older man's sharingan, Kakashi retrieved his handkerchief. It slipped off his lap and tumbled off the engawa during his roaring fit. Once he settled on the porch, the half-Hatake directed his attention to Madara. He absentmindedly fingered the small red and white Uchiwa fan embroidered on the corner of his handkerchief.

Make sure you get enough rest. He huffed at the comment. He got enough rest, thank you very much. I intent to pay your clan a visit in one week's time, and I expect you to accompany me, fully healed. Kakashi suppressed a snort. "I'll make sure to tell my ribs to heal faster," he drawled, his tone drier than Kaze no Kuni's infamous desert. The halfbreed waved his left arm for emphasize. "I'll remind my arm too." If you want scrolls from the library, all you have to do is ask Natsuki to bring them to you. Kakashi hummed at the suggestion. Given the circumstances, it was a wiser decision, but maa, where's the fun in that? He had no intention of being confined in his room and Natsuki had more important things to do than deliver scrolls.

Kakashi was once considered the worse patient in Konoha Hospital. Some habits never changed.

*​

One Week Later — Hatake Compound

"Aniki!" A silver blip whizzed past clansmen and slammed against the half-Hatake.

The moment Kakashi stepped inside the compound, a nine-year-old ball of energy collided against his frontside. It seemed he made a full recovery since he didn't wince. The Hatake ambassador tipped precariously, as if he were going to collapse. However, it was a deliberate (more like dramatic) countermeasure than losing his balance. "Maa, Saku, did you get bigger?" He hoisted the younger Hatake off the ground and stood upright. "What's kaa-san been feeding you? You're heavy," he huffed dramatically.

Sakumotsu snickered and climbed onto his older brother's back like a monkey. "I'm not that heavy, aniki. I've seen you lift Shinra and she's humongous!" he pointed out.

He snorted. "Say that to her face, pup," Kakashi countered. He adjusted his grip on the wolf-monkey perched on his back and directed his attention to Madara. "I don't think you've been formally introduced. Saku, say hello to Uchiha Madara, the head of the Uchiha clan. Madara, this is my younger brother, Sakumotsu," he introduced. Technically his great-grandfather, but maa, details.

The exuberant nine-year-old blinked. "Hm?" Large charcoal eyes locked onto Madara. The pup looked like a pure Hatake, down to the mask shielding his face. Unlike his elder brother, Sakumotsu would one day remove his mask. Hatake children, on average, acclimate to their senses around ten or eleven. "Welcome to the wolf den, Madara-sama. I'm Saku!" he chirped. He flashed the older man a grin, unperturbed by the raven's intimidating aura.

"Perhaps, Sakumotsu should be the Hatake ambassador. He has better manners than you, brat," drawled the wolfwoman. Nōka approached the main gates with Shinra flanking her left side. The massive wolf summon regarded the Uchiha Head silently. She huffed and directed her attention to her partner's pups, not sparing the ravenette another glance.

"Maa, maa, he does have an aptitude for diplomacy," Kakashi mused, as if he were considering it.

His nose wrinkled. "Politics are so boring!" Sakumotsu whined. He poked at his brother's makeshift mask. "Can you teach me to swoosh instead, aniki?" he inquired.

"I'm not teaching you the body flicker technique," Kakashi deadpanned.

"You taught him!" The nine-year-old jabbed an accusatory finger at Madara.

The half-Hatake suppressed a chortle. "Maa, I technically didn't, pup," he replied. He glanced at the older ravenette. "Things came up." The last two weeks were, without a doubt, eventful. Without another word, Kakashi deposited Sakumotsu on Shinra's back. The she-wolf huffed, but understood the silent message. She turned around and trotted inside the compound.

As her partner escorted her rambunctious pup to the main estate, Nōka gazed at Madara. Her sharp eyes assessed the younger man. "You know," she drawled. Without warning, the wolfwoman turned around and flicked her wrist, gesturing to the main estate. "Maa, follow me." Nōka ambled closer to the large building, not waiting for the younger Uchiha's answer. The older Hatake escorted the Clan Head and her troublesome pup to her private office. She hated utilizing it — she preferred conducting official business outside, not in a stuffy room — but the multitude of protective seals (and the additional secrecy seals her pup applied) ensured complete confidentiality.

 

[arbus]

The journey to the Hatake compound had been swift and eventless. Madara was not sure what he had been expecting, but he had remained more vigilant than usual (when he was traveling on his own, nobody but Hashirama would be dumb enough to engage him in battle). He remained a pace behind Kakashi at all times, following him through the crowns of trees and keeping his sharingan activated and on the undergrowth. Madara was reasonably satisfied about Kakashi's convalescence, even if he had spend half of their travels lecturing him on what an impossible and utterly ungrateful patient he had been, slipping beneath Yuuto-sensei's radar for the best part of the preceding week. At least that was what had been reported back to him with a level of exasperation he had not seen in the old healer before. That said something, because that man was his own personal doctor.

Madara had resigned himself to spent less of his time blasting holes in uninhabited landscapes, though mainly because correspondance between every damn clan head in the whole of Fire Country had picked up since the Daimyo's invitation, and he had spent most of his time trying not to offend anyone while keeping at least a morsel of dignity. So he wholeheartedly agreed with Sakumotsu about the tediousness of politics. He watched the interaction between Kakashi and his (doing the math, the kid must be his great-grandfather) brother attentively, and thought to himself that for someone who claimed to dislike children, Kakashi was quite good with them.

(It had come to Madara's attention that Ume, the daughter of one of his late father's closest friends, had been trailing Kakashi like a shadow. Madara found that gleefully amusing, because he knew from personal experience what a pain that brat could be, but he had kept his tongue about it. In fact, he had been keeping away from Kakashi until he picked him up this morning to commence their travels.)

"Thank you", Madara responded to the child perched on Kakashi's back. It was refreshing, if slightly alienating, not to have someone shy away from him like most people did. "I appreciate your courtesy, Sakumotsu-kun. You're very kind." His eyes flickered to Kakashi, entirely too long-suffering, but with a glint of amusement nonetheless. The little squirt did have better manners than Kakashi. At least in that respect he agreed fully with Hatake Noka.

It was a bit eery, that the wolfwoman could read Madara like an open book. When she approached, it had taken her only one glance to assess the situation. Madara could almost admire that -- almost, because her haughtiness always irked him, much like Kakashi's own elusive behaviour did. Truly, one and the same lineage. There could be no doubt about it.

Madara noticed a distinct lack of excitement in the clanspeople around them as they made their way to the main estate. The last time he had been here, they had stared at him with unabashed mistrust, but now they hardly seemed to care for his presence, beside the odd side-eye he did barely register anymore. Most of them greeted Kakashi with something akin to appreciation. "It seems you have been sorely missed", he stated, half a pace behind Kakashi.

What the Hatake compound lacked in size and prosperity, it made up for in liveliness. Its riches lay not in the houses they built or the equipment they gathered, but in the livestock they kept, in the coming and going of a community made of hunters. Madara respected that, liked it even. It was a clan much closer to nature than his own, and even though he was fond of the ceremonial, of prestige and the pride that came with it, the confinement of such traditions could grow stale and stiff. Here, he felt closer to the trees, free to make decisions he wouldn't otherwise even consider.

"Where were you", Madara began the minute they had crossed the treshold of the clan head's office, "when your great-great-grandson was severely wounded?" The door had barely clicked shut behind them and already he had leapt into the conversation with potentially the worst possibly starter. Yet, he had festered that particular grievance for two weeks now, ever since he had sent a scroll to the Hatake clan head and not heard back. It would probably not be such an issue if it were not for the days in which Kakashi simply refused to wake, was held under by fever dreams.

The room they had entered was unfortunately small, the air thick and humming with what must be protective seals of some sort. Madara's notoriously short temper was worn thin already; the nightmares since that day in Kamui had intensified, and Madara had begun to suspect that something went wrong with the genjutsu, that it was not fully lifted off him. How else could he explain the vividness of those dreams, and the confused ideas they left him with, like twisted iterations of his own, darker thoughts.

His eyes were sharp and unwavering as they looked at the wolf woman. "Kakashi did not wake from his sleep for two whole days", he said, unapologetic even as he was standing right next to the man himself, "my healers could do nothing to help him. Has this happened before?"

He cared little that Kakashi was standing right beside him. This had been brewing in Madara for two weeks now; it were remnants of a deeply felt helplessness, of days spent chasing ghosts in the woods, and his question held another one: Will this happen again?

 

[roxybirdie]

"When your great-great-grandson was severely wounded?"

Once the wolfwoman led the younger Uchiha and her troublesome pup inside the office, Nōka settled on a throne-like chair behind a moderately-sized desk. The chair, while seemingly ostentatious, was built for comfort than status. If she was going to conduct official business in the blasted — Nōka wanted something bigger, but it was too much of a hassle to expand — space, she would be comfortable, kamidamnit. The wolfwoman sprawled on the chair, forgoing any semblance of decorum. The moment Kakashi closed the door and activated the seals, the Uchiha brat went on a tirade. She arched an eyebrow, thoroughly unimpressed. "Ensuring my pup—" Nōka hasn't referred him as her great-great-grandson for months and she wasn't about to anytime soon. "—didn't lose his entire clan again." She unlocked a drawer and brandished a stack of fūinjutsu papers. A seal was painted on the specialized paper, the pitch black ink gleaming a faint gold under the light.

"As our allies, I trusted my pup in your capable hands. Was I wrong?" Nōka challenged. She tapped the seals. "I would of sent a response, but I was too busy plastering these seals all over Hatake territory," she announced. She stared at the younger Uchiha unflinchingly, a hint of anger penetrating her unperturbed gaze. The wolfwoman did not appreciate the brat's insinuation one bit. Insolent child. The Clan Head's sense of diplomacy — or lack thereof — was just as bad as her pup's. "Since my clansmen, sans my husband and partner, are unaware of his secret, I had to do so discreetly," she pointed out.

"Is that—?" Kakashi eyed the seals.

She inclined her head. "I might not be able to sense the leech, but I'm not about to let it waltz in our territory without some interference," Nōka huffed.

A frown marred his lips. "All the perimeters are secured," Kakashi deduced.

"I know you created them as a last resort, but the parasite wants you dead," the wolfwoman reminded. She glanced at Madara. "It was only a matter of time," she added. She traced a finger over the seal's intricate design. "The seals are imbued with Kakashi's unique chakra. They're designed to detect the parasite and inhibit its movements," Nōka declared. She didn't feel like explaining the mechanics, but fortunately, her pup interjected.

"The seals will alert us if Kaguya's will enters the seals' range. However, its main objective is trapping. If the parasite gets too close to a seal, it should momentarily prevent it from phasing as long as it stays within the seal's perimeter," Kakashi elaborated. He gazed at the stack of papers. "I keep some on me at all times, but I never got a chance." To use them was left unsaid. The foundation of the seal was inspired by Rikudō no Nisshoku. Kakashi didn't doubt his fūinjutsu — he learned from the best of the best — but since the seal was entirely experimental, he kept it as a last resort.

"My healers could do nothing to help him. Has this happened before?"

It took every fibre of her being not to grimace. She understood the Uchiha brat's helplessness intimately. "Yes," Nōka confirmed. The wolfwoman locked eyes with the younger ravenette. "The day Uchiha Izuna died, Kakashi attended the first diplomatic excursion to Inuzuka territory. We weren't alerted about his death until we returned from the negotiations," she began. Her gaze never wavered. "The day we returned, Kakashi collapsed." Her voice remained deceptively calm. Hatake Nōka will never forget the day she witnessed her pup crumple like a broken marionette with its strings cut. "He wasn't injured, but he contracted a fever regardless and didn't wake up for a week." She leaned forward and flattened her palms on the desk. "My healers tried everything and half of them are contracted to the slugs of Shikkotsu. If it weren't for Sakumotsu, I don't know how long it would take for him to wake up." If he woke up hung in the air.

Nōka stood and hovered over the desk until she was inches from the Clan Head. "If you think, even for a second, Kakashi forgot like it didn't matter, you are a stupid fool, Uchiha Madara," she announced. The wolfwoman curled her lips back, exposing her sharp incisors. "You and I can't even begin to comprehend the intricacies of his mission. If you think it's possible to remember every kamidamn detail at all times, you need to get your head out of your ass and open your fucking eyes," she pointed out. Nōka leaned back and plopped on her chair. "All we can do is ensure he doesn't shoulder the burden alone." She opened another drawer and retrieved a certain scroll with a waxed seal.

"I assume this is what you wanted to discuss before you got into a hissy fit," she drawled. Nōka tapped the waxed peacock emblem for emphasize.

Kakashi looked as if he wanted the floor to swallow him whole and put him out of his misery. Had it not been for the pointed glare his ancestor sent him, the silver-haired shinobi would of vanished with a well-placed shunshin.

 

[arbus]

It was a bullshit excuse and Madara knew she knew it. He stared at her, incredulously, lounging in that ridiculous chair like it was a throne. Madara scoffed.

"You are telling me that you did not find a single moment to sit and conduct the most basic correspondence, inquiring after your precious pup, because you were to busy running around distributing seals?"

His eyes caught on the slight golden shimmer of the ink in the low light. He had to admit, he was interested, if only because it was a way to entrap that damned parasite. If it could hold it off, that was a good thing. Having those seals around the Hatake territory meant Kakashi was safe here, because Madara understood as well as Hatake Noka that Kakashi was in severe danger of another attack. If that parasite -- a trickle of fear crawled down Madara's spine at the mention of the name of the Moon Goddess -- found out who Kakashi was, where he came from, it would be out for his blood. Maybe it already was. Madara, who had been walking up and down the length of the Hatake clan head's desk for the duration of their discussion of the fuinjutsu, stopped, and huffed his consent.

"It sounds useful", he admitted, more to Kakashi than his mother-great-great-grandmother-whatever. "We need more of those. You should apply them around the Uchiha compound, when you visit." So you are safe with us, too.

Before he could search for a non-sentimental explanation for his suggestion -- something along the lines of the duty of an ambassador -- the wolfwoman dropped Izuna's name. Madara's head whipped around, and it probably was not a good sign that his heart was beating fast already from his previous outburst, but now it was in his mouth.

"The day we returned, Kakashi collapsed. My healers tried everything and half of them are contracted to the slugs of Shikkotsu. If it weren't for Sakumotsu, I don't know how long it would take for him to wake up."

Madara had not known that -- of course not, as if Kakashi would ever disclose such a thing -- and it clenched something in his chest. It meant that Kakashi was prone to such fits, that he was in constant danger of slipping into one of them; what if he did not get out the next time it happened? That was a dreadful thought, evoking a terrible helplessness.

"If you think, even for a second, Kakashi forgot like it didn't matter, you are a stupid fool, Uchiha Madara. You and I can't even begin to comprehend the intricacies of his mission. If you think it's possible to remember every kamidamn detail at all times, you need to get your head out of your ass and open your fucking eyes."

Madara was not exactly sure what prompted those words from the Hatake woman, but he should not have been surprised. Of course she thought of him so lowly; and of herself so highly, to even dare to bring this up before him. It was the one topic that was off-limits, the one thing Madara was not sure how he felt about: Izuna's death and Kakashi's involuntary absence in it.

(It did not help how it kept recurring in his nightmares, that whisper of what if and why have you not.)

He knew Kakashi regretted it, to have done nothing, to have forgotten, but it was one thing to see Kakashi's remorse and accept it, another entirely to have the wolfwoman defend him, unbidden, insinuating an unwillingness to forgive on Madara's part. As if he was too stupid to understand the scale of Kakashi's task. As if Madara should get over himself.

As if it was fine that his brother's death had been forgotten, an excusable offense -- just one kamidamn detail of many -- of no consequence to Hatake Noka in the long run.

Anger edged his vision red. He suddenly had a problem thinking straight.

Who the hell did she think she was? With his heart in his mouth, beating hummingbird-fast, it was hard to speak, but then he realized he was gritting his teeth so hard his molars crunched and grated against each other.

"Don't", he heard himself say, voice pressed, "speak of my brother to me, ever." Madara's nails dug so deep into the flesh of his palms they would leave half-circles like crescent moons. "Don't speak to me of things you don't understand, wolfwoman, nor of those that aren't your concern."

Before he knew what he was doing, he prowled towards the table. He did not care that he excuded killing intent in waves without being so much as able to reel it in. Let the filthy mongrel know that she had overstepped a line. It was a cold thing, this intent, intrinsic to every shinobi and kindled by the contemplation of what it would be like, to lash out and struck her in that haughty face, so self-righteous and arrogant in that stupid throne of hers.

"Keep the scroll and your opinions to yourself", he hissed. "I am not interested in them anymore." He was not loud, was not even moving much. His aggression was an icy-cold one, vibrating under his skin. "And watch your fucking tongue, because the next time you call me a fool will be the day I have you swallow it."

Madara was hardly aware that he had most likely shattered an alliance, hardly cared, as his fist came down for emphasis on that table, right were Hatake Noka's hand had been a minute ago. It left a crack that kept spreading, even after he stormed out the tiny office.

*
​

It was not a small irony that now it was Madara who sat perched in a tree, but it was a vantage point, just outside the compound, and he needed the sense that he would see anyone approaching. His pulse was still going quick, but he had started to calm down, at last. He rubbed his fingers into his closed eyelids until black flowers blossomed in front of them. It had been a while since he lost his temper like that. He did not regret it, not really. Even now, thinking back onto the impertinent words, he felt it flare up again, and he banned the words along with their hidden accusations and Hatake Noka's face out of his mind. It was like navigating a minefield in his own mind. Madara supposed the alliance was off the table. A fact that did not interest him much at the moment, when the residue of his rage still lingered, but he knew he had not moved wisely, had done nothing for his clan with his outburst.

He regretted that, at least.

He heaved a sigh. He was half-waiting for Kakashi to find him (once again), because it seemed ridiculous to leave without another word. His quarrel was not with Kakashi, but with his interfering, self-righteous mother. What did that woman understand of Madara's inner conflict? And what, for fuck's sake, was it to her?

Madara trained his eyes on the sun for a moment, squinting. When he looked away again, he was staring into a world that was bleeding reds and pulsing blacks. A little voice inside his head murmured: What if.

 

[roxybirdie]

"And watch your fucking tongue, because the next time you call me a fool will be the day I have you swallow it."

Slam.

Silence washed over the stuffy office. Charcoal eyes gazed at the spiderweb fractures splintering the center of her desk. The force of the blow wasn't enough to split her desk in half, but it was beyond salvageable, nonetheless. She gathered chakra in her palm, curled her fingers, and slammed her fist against the damaged wood. With a loud crack, the desk splintered in half and caved in. The wolfwoman heaved a sigh, scrubbing a hand down her face. "Insolent child," Nōka grumbled underneath her breath.

"Don't," her pup interjected.

She directed her attention to Kakashi. "Any Clan Head worth their salt would take offense to that, brat," she pointed out.

"Any Clan Head worth their salt would know better than to mention the Uchiha Head's last living brother now dead to his face," Kakashi countered.

Nōka arched an eyebrow at the thinly-veiled anger in her pup's neutral tone. "He asked and I told him the truth," she reminded.

It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. "I don't think calling him a stupid fool and insinuating Izuna's death doesn't matter is telling him the truth," he pointed out. Before his surrogate mother could open her mouth, Kakashi cut her off, "You need to get your head out of your ass and open your fucking eyes, kaa-san." A steely glint was evident in his stormy grey hues. Electricity radiated from the half-Hatake's rigid frame. The atmosphere thickened with the distinctive taste of ozone; a calm before a raging thunderstorm. Despite his impassive tone, the war veteran was pissed.

"Excuse me?" Her eyes narrowed.

"Did I stutter?" Kakashi retorted coldly.

"Do you want to know why I warned him?" Nōka growled. She slipped off the lavish chair and stood at her full height. "Why I had the gall to cross the line?" The cold bite of a wolf hunting in winter — every inch like the mountain wolves of Raizan — pervaded the air, meeting the thunderous rainfall directly. "Why I insinuated such a thing?" she punctuated each syllable with a flash of her sharp incisors.

Dark grey met charcoal. "Enlighten me," Kakashi snarked.

"I understand loss and the crushing weight of grief far longer than the Uchiha brat's been born," Nōka pointed out. She pinned her troublesome pup with a glare. "You understand it better than anyone else." Her cold gaze could freeze hell over. "I do not expect him to get over it like Uchiha Izuna's death doesn't matter. I may be many things, Kakashi, but I am no fool." Contrary to what a certain Clan Head may believe, Nōka was intimately aware of her faults. She raised her arm and pointed at the door. "You may be hellbent on saving Uchiha Madara, but it doesn't change the fact grief is dangerous. If he isn't reminded of the ramifications of blaming you, it will be his downfall," she declared.

"Do you think that lowly of him?" Kakashi drawled.

"I see the good you see in him, but he hasn't proven himself worthy to me," the wolfwoman replied.

His eyebrows knitted together. "Worthy?" he huffed.

"The parasite will use his grief against him and you if it hasn't already," Nōka countered.

"Madara doesn't need to prove himself to you," Kakashi pointed out.

She barked out a laugh. "He does if he's going to be your future mate," she announced.

The war veteran froze. "W-what?" he croaked.

Nōka tapped the side of her neck. "We do not draw blood during sparring matches. Hatake never draw blood unless they're going for the kill or—" A smirk adorned her face. "—staking a claim," she elaborated. Her smirk widened. "Your wolf claimed Uchiha Madara and it made it abundantly clear. Why do you think Inuzuka Mora dissolved your betrothal proposal without jeopardizing our alliance?" She retracted her palm. "It's not just your wolf. You're just as enthralled," she declared. Nōka flourished her wrist, gesturing to her broken desk. "Defending his honor in his absence is a glaring sign, pup," she pointed out.

Kakashi stumbled back. "I-I don't—" All traces of his ire evaporated.

"Ha!" She folded her arms across her chest. "Don't feed that bullshit to me, brat," the wolfwoman huffed.

His breath hitched. "I-I—" He couldn't breath. The sudden realization was too much. Kami-sama, too much, too much, too much— Kakashi did what he did best.

He ran.

With a poof, the half-Hatake vanished.

She heaved a sigh. "The brats are made for each other," Nōka muttered.

*​

"Your sharingan is pretty," a young voice piped.

Large charcoal eyes peered at the older Uchiha. The nine-year-old seemingly appeared out of nowhere. On the other hand, Sakumotsu wasn't foolish enough to believe he approached the tree unnoticed. It didn't stop him from climbing the tree and perching on the branch the Clan Head occupied. "Red is one of my favorite colors," he announced. He swung his legs back and forth, unperturbed by the steep height. The younger Hatake liked climbing the tallest trees and often snuck out — he may be young, but he was a resourceful brat — of the compound to find the biggest tree in the clan forest. During one of his daily excursions, Sakumotsu spotted the older Uchiha.

"Aniki likes to destroy the training grounds when he's angry, but kaa-chan makes him take it out in the forest instead," he murmured. The nine-year-old outstretched his arms for emphasize. "We have a whole section of the forest reserved for it. I call it aniki's playground," he declared. Sakumotsu flashed Madara a grin. "If you're angry, Madara-sama, I can show it to you. I'm sure aniki won't mind!" he chirped.

His grin softened into a warm smile. "Aniki always says we should never abandon our friends. The Hatake and Uchiha are friends!" Sakumotsu announced with the logic only a nine-year-old can possess.

 

[arbus]

"Your sharingan is pretty."

It had not taken a sensor to register the boy's approach. He was moving smoothly enough, but for a shinobi, he was stomping around the grounds with all the grace of an elephant; twigs snapping beneath his soles, under which grass rustled and little stones crunched. But Madara had hoped the boy would be too afraid to engage with him all by his own. Apparently, he was not.

My what is what, Madara thought with a surge of bewilderment. He lifted his eyes to the kid, who was staring back at his Eternal Mangekyo without so much as a flinch. Every child in Hi no Kuni knew never to meet a sharingan's gaze. Madara did not know if Kakashi's ancestor was brave or just too damn gullible. Perhaps this was Kakashi's influence, who was sporting the sharingan himself, that the kid showed no sign of fear. Perhaps it was the other way around, and Kakashi had gotten his brazenness from the boy that so paradoxically was his great-grandfather.

Madara deactived the sharingan and curled his anger tighter around himself. Never in his life had he threatened a child, and he would not start now.

"I like your guts, kid", he said, "but you should be careful. A sharingan can do things to your mind, things you won't even notice until it's too late."

He did not even realize that, for all that he hated the world's view on his clan, he was now perpetuating this exact fear. It came so natural to warn the kid, though, because it was also the truth, and he wanted Kakashi's kin to grow up safe and sound, did not want him to be desensitized to the point he did no longer realize the dangers of another shinobi's kekkei genkai.

"Aniki likes to destroy the training grounds when he's angry, but kaa-chan makes him take it out in the forest instead."

Madara was hard-pressed to remember having seen Kakashi that angry, enough to have an urge to destroy. It endeared him, that small similarity between them; men with their power could never let it run unchecked, but sometimes there was a need to just get it out of one's system. Madara had only ever met the coldness of Kakashi's anger, a chill in his eyes that ran like electricity down his spine, and not in a good way. He wondered what it looked like, that moment Kakashi let his inhibitions slip and his killing intent take over like it was a wild thing.

Maybe, that day so many months ago, Madara had witnessed it, for a brief moment. An ambush and a couple of stupid Senju, almost loosing their lives to unbridled bloodlust.

Madara watched the little squirt balance precariously, but gracefully, on the high branch. There was a warmth in his manner that the rest of his clanspeople lacked, something that normally got lost in the rages of war. It told Madara that Sakumotsu had never seen battle, and that was a good, merciful thing. Madara would not do business with a clan that send their children into battle.

He weighed the offer -- astoundingly insightful for a kid of nine years, to gauge an adult's mood like that -- against the danger that it would put Sakumotsu in. The perimeter was freshly sealed with Kakashi's fuinjutsu, though, and if Madara stayed by the kid's side, he could vindicate to have him dallying even further from the safety of the compound as he already had.

"Sounds good", he said, slipping off the branch and landing on his feet. Sakumotsu followed suit, climbing down the tree without even a hint of hesitation. The Hatake and Uchiha are friends. Madara was not too eager to find out if that held still true, at least were the alliance was concerned, but the words sounded so much like Kakashi that it made his lips twitch into a smile nonetheless.

"You know that your brother loves you very much, right?", he said as they strolled together, for no particular reason other than that the pull of Izuna's memory was strong in that moment, the longing to have his little brother walk beside him and taunt him with some triviality almost unbearable in its intensity. A shinobi's life could come to an end any time, any goodbye could be the last one, and Madara thought it important to be aware how precious it all was, the time one had with loved ones.

If the squirt found his words strange, he did not show it. The mask stretched from the big smile he received. "I know", he replied easily, happily. Madara's eyes softened.

"Good. Do you also know that you're stomping around the woods like a particularly weighty elephant?"

That elicited a scandalized squeak from the boy. "I do not! I'm stealthy like aniki."

Madara hummed. "Maybe when you focus", he retorted, "but right now, you are talking to me, and every shinobi in the proximity would hear you approaching. Here, move your feet like this. Yes. It has to come natural, like breathing."

They spent their way through the forest with exercises in stealth. Madara was being strict, but not as unforgiving as he would be with older members of his clan, and he watched the squirt pick up fast enough on his cues that he felt a rewarding sense of gratification for his efforts. When they finally reached what the squirt had dubbed aniki's playground, Madara's fury had tempered down into something mellow and controllable.

"Can you show me now?", the kid begged, eyes wide with a puppy-glare that put even Hashirama's to shame.

Madara huffed, rolled his eyes, but he already knew he was about to comply.

"Look", he said, hunching down at the outskirts of a glade that probably was not supposed to be one. Tree stumps and fallen trees littered the grounds; a lingering smell of ozone hung in the air like an afterthought. Bringing his hands up to his face, he formed the signs in quick succession, summoning chakra from the pits of his stomach and channeling them into his lungs. He inhaled deeply, and on the exhale a storm of fire rushed out from between his lips, eating at the air, blooming into a ball that hovered over a pile of stray branches only to ignite them into a bonfire.

Sakumotsu burst out into a joyous laugh, clapping his hands. "That is fantastic!", he exclaimed. Madara could not help but smile, a bit smugly, at the praise.

"Now you", he replied. "Show me your chakra nature. Don't hold back."

 

[roxybirdie]

"Show me your chakra nature. Don't hold back."

Determination washed over his features. "I won't!" The nine-year-old weaved through a sequence of hand signs, the dexterity of his movements indicating his experience. He summoned chakra from the pit of his stomach and channeled it to his right arm. Sakumotsu swung his left leg back, lowered his center of gravity, and raised his right arm. He draped his left hand on his forearm and outstretched his right palm. He breathed in deeply, pictured a thin — like his aniki instructed — needle, and aimed. Electricity surged down his arm and coalesced around his hand. Sakumotsu directed his attention to a pile of fallen branches and fired. A bolt of luminescent blue struck the branches and ignited them on fire. He lowered his arm, eyes alight with wonderment and joy. "I did it!" He mastered Raigeki!

If his older brother were here, he would tell him to perfect it. Sakumotsu silently accepted the challenge.

"Do you know any raiton release techniques, Madara-sama?" the pup inquired, curiosity evident in his large charcoal hues. "Aniki says greater shinobi learn techniques outside of their nature. He showed me fūton release and that's against my nature!" he exclaimed. He tilted his head. "Ne, ne, maybe I can teach you my favorite technique!" he added with the assuredness of a nine-year-old pup.

*​

"He does if he's going to be your future mate,"

Outside the compound, closer to the direction of the western Uchiha border, a certain halfbreed sat on a riverbank overlooking a small stream. Since it was close to Uchiha territory, the gurgling brook eventually connected to the infamous Naka River. He dipped a trembling palm inside the water, distorting his reflection. Charcoal eyes gazed at the ripples. His face, devoid of his makeshift mask, conveyed no emotion.

"Your wolf claimed Uchiha Madara and it made it abundantly clear."

He released a shuddering breath. Kakashi remembered the vicious satisfaction he felt when he saw his mark on the older raven's neck. He recalled the overwhelming feeling of acceptance. The war veteran could deny it until his dying breath, but his instincts are rarely (if ever) wrong. Without the heedless veil obscuring his vision, the glaring truth was unmistakably clear. How ... how could he be so blind?

"It's not just your wolf. You're just as enthralled,"

Kakashi flinched. He snatched a pebble off the ground and threw it inside the stream. It landed in the water with a loud splash.

"Defending his honor in his absence is a glaring sign, pup,"

He slammed a fist against the water. A large wave splashed his face, but he ignored the chilling bite. "I'm not worthy," the half-Hatake croaked. Kakashi bowed his head, his sopping fringe draping over his eyes. "I'm not worthy, kaa-san," he whispered. His fingers dug into the gravel. He ignored the sting of sharp rocks piercing his flesh. His damp bangs parted, revealing a glimpse of glossy charcoal eyes. "I'm not worthy," he whispered. The halfbreed hunched in front of the bubbling creek, gazing at his reflection. Tears dripped on the surface, rippling the watery image.

A dry sob escaped his lips. "I'm not," Kakashi rasped.

 

[arbus]

Madara

Madara watched with interest as young Sakumotsu performed the powerful raiton jutsu. The technique, Madara knew, required pin-point focus and very precise chakra control, not a bad feat for a nine-year-old to master. A shame that the channeled chakra was still a wavering, instable force. Madara felt a light hum against his skin, like the faintest shadow of the might Kakashi himself was able to release. The squirt's power was promising, yet Madara already saw that it would not exceed that of his descendant.

"Good", he said. The outcome was still satisfactory; the logs that caught fire were cracking and cackling as they burned. It filled the air with the heavy aroma of smoke, and the black fumes ascended into the blue sky. Madara inclined his head, his expression earnest but open. "I do", he responded, "although my most powerful technique remains katon. We Uchiha have a strong inclination towards fire." Madara raised his hand, palm up, into the lingering static of Sakumotsu's Raigeki. He released a soft burst of chakra, forced it into the shape that came least natural to him, until the air around his hand started to cackle, tiny blue bolts sparking. "I need more practice", he explained with a smile, snuffing out the raiton.

"Ne, ne, maybe I can teach you my favorite technique!"

The squirts excitement, this childlike wonder, warmed Madara's heart.

"I'm all ears", he said. They should probably head back soon, but the sun was warm and the forest around them quiet and peaceful. A part of him still waited for Kakashi to show, in the way he always seemed to find Madara, but he was half-resigned already that he would have to leave without a proper goodbye.

As often in a shinobi's life, things did not turn out as planned.

Hina

Hina did not like to be the bearer of bad news. She did not like how the conspicuous absence of her clan head's heir made her throat dry and her heart accelarate, either, and that was the more important thing: Sakumotsu was gone, again, even though she had been tasked with keeping an eye on that crafty little brat.

"Noka-sama", she said, bowing as deeply as possible as she entered Hatake Noka's office. Hina had just recently been promoted to the clan head's personal guard, and it was only the second week that she was responsible for Sakumotsu's safety.

"I ... I'm sorry to interrupt, but ..." Her eyes lingered on the table for a moment, cut neatly in half. "I can't seem to find Sakumotsu-kun. He must have slipped out of the compound through the hole in the storage facility. I -- I've searched the premises surrounding the compound, but I can't find him anywhere." Her clan head was just, and Hina looked up to her for her strength and loyalty, but she also was fiercely protective of her pup. Hina suppressed a shudder. "I've been told he was last seen with the Uchiha before they ... vanished. I thought you might want to know because I heard he left in a ... he seemed unhappy." There was an insinuation in her tone, one she did not dare to speak aloud even though she thought it likely to be true: What if he took him?

Zetsu

Uh. There we go.

So interesting, it though, and smiled to itself. Pretty-face was sitting all alone on the bank of the other side of the river, all healed-up. He had slipped from beneath its fingers like a slimy little worm, but it would not let him get away a second time. It was a good opportunity. It had come for the darkness in the Uchiha (delicious, delicous) but it would take what kami deemed to serve it.

A cackle.

Mother will be proud.

It was strange, a little bit, how the pretty-face had handled it, as if he knew. Pretty-face Kakashi was an anomaly, he did not belong, and Zetsu did not like what did not belong.

It had nothing to lose, because the last time, it had been so much stronger than the pretty-face.

Suddenly, though, there was a vibration like a warning against the soles of its feet. The earth was talking to it, like it had taught it to do. Nature's energy ran in stark contrast to what Zetsu was, but Zetsu knew how to subdue, and the trees whispered to it as did the wind and the leafs. A shinobi was running towards its direction. They would collide, at any minute, and Zetsu knew how to sniff out opportunity, but more so, it knew how to seize it.

A little disappointed, it slunk away, back into the shadows of the trees, to leave the crying figure in peace. For now.

Yakumi

Just his damn fucking luck, Yakumi thought as he rushed through the undergrowth. Why must he be one of the fastest shinobi of his clan? And had he really once been proud about this achievement? All it had brought him were endless, harried trips to and fro, either from the Hatake compound or the civilian harbor along that damned trade route. His feet left trails of blue chakra for he was moving so fast, but the damn Hatake compound was at least a day's travel away, and that was if he did not make any breaks. He had been running for hours now, but the closer he got the more dread he felt. He really, really did not want to be the one to give his clan head the bad news.

He felt the tingling sensation of fear creeping up his spine. Senju fucking Hashirama was standing at their gates, unperturbed, and that man could flatten the whole compound with not much more as a flick of his wrist. Without Madara, they were defenseless against him, and once again their clan head was running around with that damned halfbreed of a Hatake.

Yakumi was not the only one who thought so; there were men and women in the clan that agreed with his sentiment, and their number grew by the day. Yakumi's feet skipped over a particularly nasty rock, and he made to leap into a tree branch. He had almost reached the western Uchiha border. In a moment's notice, he would break the tree lines and jump out onto a clearing leading into a river bank. By now, Yakumi knew this route by heart, and he could traverse the territory blindfolded. The fear was a palpable thing, even though Hashirama had made no attempts to attack. I need to talk to Madara, he had said, face set, and Yakumi thought that the whole world was upside down and crazy, ever since that ceasefire --

Whump.

A hand, out of nowhere, sneaked around his ankle and pulled, pushing him out of the air mid-jump, and Yakumi yelled in surprise, before he face-planted into hard soil. The hair in his neck were standing up, he felt it even through the sharp-throbbing ache of a broken nose. Blood spluttered everywhere, clogged inside his mouth and made it hard to breathe. Behind him, someone -- something -- cackled its amusement, and Yakumi thought of earth-spirits and oni and all the bad things his grandmother had told him about, before something crashed down onto the back of his head and with a sickeningly dull crack, everything went dark.

Madara

"Time to go", Madara announced, getting to his feet. He raised his face up against the sun, gauging its movement. Two, three hours had passed at least since Sakumotsu took him to Kakashi's playground, and it was high time for him to bring the squirt back to his clan.

"Do we really have to go already?", the kid inquired. He was dirty, out of breath and beaming at Madara. Madara snorted.

"You look like you're about to keel over, squirt", he said, "it's time for food and a bath, don't you think?"

He had indulged the kid's whims patiently, having him practice his raiton and futon release, but Madara could hardly justify to stay here any longer. If Kakashi had not showed up by now, he would not come. Madara ignored the fully inappropriate pang of disappointment and ushered Sakumotsu into the direction of his compound with a no-nonesense gaze he had probably picked up from his father.

Yakumi

Yakumi stepped out of the shadows of the trees, and if he stumbled a bit, it was just because Zetsu was not used to inhabit someone who had just suffered a severe concussion and was rendered unconscious. Maybe the blood pooling down from Yakumi's head and smeared across his face was a disconcerting sight -- it had stained his attire into a dark shimmery black at his left shoulder -- but who knew what humans were used to these troublesome days. Zetsu thought that they all were accustomed to war.

Zetsu did not know that somewhere, the moment it had stepped onto Hatake perimeter warded by invisible seals, an alarm was set off. If it knew, though, it would not be too concerned, because it was now Yakumi and Yakumi tasted a bit bland but also useful and so very, very mortal. Zetsu was prepared to leave its host to die if the need to flee arose, but opportunity rang like promise in its otherworldly system.

"Madara-sama, thank the gods!"

"Yakumi!" The Uchiha's eyes first grew wide, and then narrowed, and Zetsu thought he was a mistrustful little shit. "What happened?", he demanded in a sharp tone, a hand finding the shoulder of the little human beside him. Zetsu's eyes wandered, and it smelled opportunity again, in the fearful eyes of a little kid.

"We are under siege." Yakumi's body stumbled forward, keeping upright just so. "The Senju are at our doors."

"What?!"

Mmmmh, delicous. The flaring of killing intent was immediate, palpable, and so very good when it came from such a powerful source. Zetsu pulled up Yakumi's nose and spat, phlegm and blood landing heavy in the grass. "I'm fine, Madara-sama", Zetsu drawled, "you should go right now. Please, hurry."

But Madara's eyes narrowed again, and he did not move. Zetsu wondered why that was, it was being so convincing.

"Squirt", Madara said, slowly, pushing the little body behind himself, "stay back."

"Madara-sama!", Zetsu exclaimed with what he found to be a convincing amount of hurt and urgency. "Please. We need your help. I can take the child!"

"I don't think so", Madara responded, his voice low. He looked past Yakumi's shoulder as if he were weighing his options. Zetsu made Yakumi heave a sigh. The eyelids drooped a little, and his mouth hung open a bit, but what was it to do when life itself drained of Yakumi's body as they spoke?

The little human winced at the sight, and Zetsu made Yakumi grin at it, through blood that had trickled down his teeth. It was a death mask, and Sakumotsu shrieked, clapping his hands before his eyes.

 

[roxybirdie]

Sakumotsu

"Although my most powerful technique remains katon. We Uchiha have a strong inclination towards fire."

Inquisitive eyes followed the Clan Head's movement; a burst of chakra and the consequent eruption of raiton release. The electricity coalescing in the older raven's palm reminded him of fire, but instead of roaring flames, it was pure lightning. Aniki once mentioned all chakra natures are malleable, but it required imagination (and a dash of chakra control) to mould it into shapes. His older brother demonstrated it by creating a wolf — a wolf almost as big as Shinra! — out of raiton chakra. "Kaa-chan says Hatake descend from the stormy mountains of Raizan. That's why we're naturally inclined to raiton release," he announced. The pup curled his fingers in front of his masked lips, pantomiming fangs. "We use to be wolves, but the great Tōboe-sama awarded our first ancestor, Shūkaku, a boon. We became the first humans in Raizan!" he declared. Sakumotsu retracted his palms and beamed at Madara.

"That's why I'm going to master raiton release like aniki!" he exclaimed.

"I'm all ears,"

Eyes wide, his charcoal gaze brightened with excitement. "Maa! It's called Raiton: Amigumo!" Sakumotsu announced. The nine-year-old proceeded to explain the mechanics, as if he were a sensei teaching his student. The pup attempted to look serious, but his tiny stature and baby fat foiled his endeavor. According to his aniki, he was too cute to look intimidating, like a wolf cub attempting to frighten a bigger predator.

Sakumotsu will prove him otherwise by teaching Madara-sama a new technique!

*​

Nōka

"I can't seem to find Sakumotsu-kun."

Her hackles immediately raised. "What?" the wolfwoman seethed. Her clanswoman flinched, but the Clan Head continued, unperturbed, "You're telling me none of you were able to catch a nine-year-old pup before he slipped out?"

"Y-yes?" Hina gulped.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Sakumotsu," Nōka growled underneath her breath. Her youngest pup was elusive, but once Kakashi entered the picture, the brat grew worse. A part of her was convinced her oldest pup did it on purpose. All for the sake of training, but the wolfwoman saw through his ruse. Her troublesome pup wanted Sakumotsu to grow stronger, yes, but instead of curbing his bad habits, the brat fanned the flames.

Like mother, like son. Nōka suddenly remembered why her mother cackled when she was pregnant with Sakumotsu.

"I heard he left in a ... he seemed unhappy."

A scowl carved on her expression. "Uchiha Madara is many things, but he isn't a child abductor," Nōka pointed out. She pinned her clanswoman with a glare. "Knowing Sakumotsu, they'll be in Training Ground Seven." When her oldest pup was deemed too powerful (and destructive) to utilize the clan training grounds, Nōka bestowed him a part of the forest for his personal use. Located near the border of Shikkotsu, Training Ground Seven was isolated enough to simultaneously avoid harm and prying eyes. Sakumotsu was a perceptive pup — a lot more sharp than her clansmen perceived — and if he encountered a fuming Uchiha, he would undoubtedly introduce the older brat to her pup's training ground.

"Fix the damn hole—" All the sudden, a pulse tugged at her senses. The wolfwoman froze. "Find Shinra and tell her to meet me at the main gates. Alert the seal masters. The compound's on lockdown!" she barked.

"W-what—?"

"Now!" Nōka roared. Without another word, the Clan Head opened a window and slipped out. She bolted, heading toward the gates. The seals plastered throughout the forest are designed to alert her if a certain parasite slithered in her territory. However, since the majority of her clansmen — sans Shinra and her husband — are unaware of her oldest pup's secret, the alarms are silent and anchored to specific individuals. The pulse vibrating inside her chest indicated the seals on the western border activated.

Training Ground Seven was located west.

Once she arrived, her partner and husband waited in front of the entrance. "Activate the seals around the compound," Nōka announced.

He inclined his head. "Do you think it will attack?" Ginjiro inquired grimly.

The wolfwoman slipped on her partner's back. "I'm not taking any chances. The compound's on lockdown until I get back," she replied.

"What should I tell the others?"

She flashed her mate a smirk. "Get creative, otto," Nōka countered. Without another word, the Clan Head and her partner vanished to the trees.

*​

Kakashi

All the sudden, the hairs on the back of his neck stood. "Danger, danger, danger!" his instincts screamed. Realization dawned on his expression.

"No," whispered the war veteran.

Without warning, a violent pulse tugged at his senses. The silent alarm resonated inside his mind. "Danger!" it screeched. If Kakashi — even for a second — doubted his seal's capabilities, the powerful alarm reverberating throughout his skull quelled (potential) lingering uncertainties. His expression hardened. All traces of his intense sorrow evaporated, replaced by cold determination. "No," the halfbreed snarled. His charcoal eyes illuminated a brilliant vermillion. As the three tomoe morphed into a pinwheel, the air distorted and twisted inward. Without another word, Kakashi vanished.

*​

Nōka

"Do you have a plan?" inquired the she-wolf.

The wolfwoman gripped her partner's fur. She may be one of the fastest Hatake in the clan, but Shinra was faster. Nōka was confident her partner would make it to Training Ground Seven in record time. "Our priority is protecting Sakumotsu," she drawled. She wanted to sink her teeth in the parasite's shadowy flesh and rip it apart, but her youngest pup took precedence.

"What about the Uchiha brat?" Shinra questioned.

She barked out a laugh. "If I felt the alarm, so did Kakashi," she pointed out. Nōka leaned forward. "He'll be fine," she announced.

"The pup's going to be pissed."

A vicious smile adorned her face. "I count on it," the wolfwoman replied. Uchiha Madara won't face the parasite alone.

*​

Kakashi

Swoosh.

Suddenly, the air in front of Madara and Sakumotsu distorted and twisted inward. Sounds of a thousand birds chirping resonated inside the glade. Out of nowhere, a certain Hatake emerged like a specter. His entire frame crackled with unholy energy, the violet lightning promising retribution. Kakashi lunged, slamming his sandal against the parasite's — a part of him should feel guilty, but he was beyond caring — solar plexus, sending the possessed Uchiha flying. He landed in front of the Clan Head and his younger brother. Without a mask shielding his face, the pure rage evident on his expression was visible. The war veteran bared his teeth and snarled.

"Aniki!" cried Sakumotsu.

The aforementioned man tilted his head back, vermillion eyes locking onto his baby brother. "Kaa-san is almost here, Saku," he murmured. Kakashi didn't need to sense his surrogate mother to know.

He sniffled and nodded. "I-I'm scared," Sakumotsu warbled.

"I'll protect you with my life, pup."

The atmosphere thickened. A distinctive taste of ozone permeated the air, but something about it was different. Unlike his previous controlled (and restrained) unveilings, it was wild and untamed. For the first time in three years, Hatake Kakashi didn't hold back. The divine power — akin to a vengeful tempest — bestowed by the Sage of Six Paths radiated from his lithe frame. Despite the oppressive chakra pervading the air, it coiled around Sakumotsu (and Madara) protectively.

"You dare attack one of Madara-sama's clansmen, halfbreed?" the parasite sneered. The possessed Uchiha stumbled inside the glade like a puppet with its strings pulled. "We should of killed you when we had the chance!" Such insidious thoughts. The manifested will didn't even need to pretend. Uchiha Yakumi loathed the halfbreed's entire existence.

Kakashi gazed at the lifeless puppet unflinchingly. "Zetsu," snarled the half-Hatake.

Before the aforementioned parasite could retaliate, a howl reverberated throughout the clearing. Nōka and Shinra landed next to Sakumotsu.

"Kaa-chan!"

The wolfwoman slipped off her partner and embraced her pup. "You're in so much trouble, brat," she huffed. Nōka hoisted Sakumotsu off the ground and directed her attention to Madara. "It'll take more than you threatening bodily harm to break the alliance, kid," she pointed out. She glanced at her oldest pup. "I'm putting my trust in you and the wellbeing of my clan, Uchiha Madara. Don't make me regret it." Without another word, Nōka hopped on her partner's back and signaled her to leave.

She wanted to stay and fight, but her youngest pup's life was more important.

 

[arbus]

For what was the second time in mere hours, Madara's heart made a jump-start into his mouth. This time, however, it was for altogether different reasons than anger. As the air twisted before them, Kakashi appeared out of Kamui like an apparition, entirely ethereal in his cloak of violet chakra. It flew around him in biting lightning bolts like lashes of a whip. It was sharp, jagged and heady in its magnitude. Or perhaps that was the expression on Kakashi's bare face, hovering pale above his shoulders, with eyes a bleeding blur of crimson, rage turning his beauty into something feral.

Madara reveled in the unleashed power, power that was more than raiton, more than Kakashi's chakra nature. His blood boiled with it, his chakra sang. It poked and prodded at him like an invitation.

All that in the matter of seconds. His eyes locked onto Yakumi, who was swaying on his feet, shoulders slumbed and body lifted up from the ground almost like the parody of a human being, like a puppet. As the sickly-numb feeling of dread and suspicion turned into certainty (Zetsu, Kakashi had snarled), Madara's stance shifted, his spine growing rigid and his muscles tense. He had desisted from moving, too wary of the way Yakumi had eyed his small companion as to risk leaving Sakumotsu's side. It was a relief when the big she-wolf appeared from the edges of the forest, and the squirt was snatched up by his mother. Freed from his burden, Madara allowed his chakra to surge.

"It'll take more than you threatening bodily harm to break the alliance, kid. I'm putting my trust in you and the wellbeing of my clan, Uchiha Madara. Don't make me regret it."

In the thickness of Kakashi's glorious chakra, of his own hot-red-wave of energy, Madara rolled his shoulders. He scoffed, but it was halfway to amused.

"Leave it to us, wolf-woman."

A burst of chakra in his legs and he leaped, let the momentum propel him forward, past Kakashi, past Yakumi, until he landed behind Yakumi's swaying body, his intention to circumvent any escape attempts. Yakumi's body whirled around. Blood-shot eyes locked onto him.

"Madara-sama." The voice was unmistakably Yakumi's, but the tone was a mockery of a plea, and his lips parted into a grin that was predatory, all teeth.

To see Yakumi in a state like this -- covered in blood, eyes unblinking and calculating -- twisted something inside his chest. Madara realized that the parasite was enjoying every last second of this, and wondered if it thought that was all it took for him to be manipulated.

"You underestimate me", Madara said, and closed himself off to the sight before him, to the fact that it was his clansman, his responsibility, who careened as if drunk, unsteady on his feet and loosing more blood than any human body could possibly bear. "Your ruse is obvious."

"I don't know what you are talking about", Yakumi cackled. Madara's eyes darted towards Kakashi. He was thinking of the seals of devine origin, of his words in the wolf-woman's office. (Its main objective is trapping. If the parasite gets too close to a seal, it should momentarily prevent it from phasing as long as it stays within the seal's perimeter. I keep some on me at all times.) There lay a question in his gaze; it was obvious that he was rendered motionless, stagnant in the face of potentially harming a member of his own clan.

"Bored of me already, Madara-sama?", the parasite taunted.

"I know what you are", Madara spat, his attention back on Yakumi, who kept swaying, making no attempt to shorten the distance between them.

"Oh, really?" That seemed to peek the parasite's interest, and for a moment, the light brown of Yakumi's eyes turned a glowing amber. "It's the anomaly, isn't it? The anomaly told you." He stumbled, spun, until he was facing Kakashi. "You. Don't. Belong."

And with a sudden force that came completely unexpected in its swiftness and precision, for all the former stumbling and swaying, Zetsu surged towards Kakashi, a kunai flashing in Yakumi's hand. Madara, pulse racing with what now unmistakably was anger, took off after it, hands weaving through the familiar signs in lightning speed. In a moment's notice a jet of fire twisted itself through the air and grabbed hungrily for Yakumi's clothes.

It threw the parasite off, made him dart to Kakashi's left to evade the burn of the flame, but it did not halt, just bounced back with an agility Madara knew Yakumi did not possess.

 

[roxybirdie]

"You. Don't. Belong."

Two weeks ago, terror clouded his judgement. It controlled his every move, ensuring a swift and brutal defeat. However, as the parasite dropped its uncoordinated façade and lunged, the war veteran brandished a kunai and prepared to counter. Fear controlled him no longer. Instead of terror inhibiting his movements, cold fury and unyielding determination flooded his veins. Perhaps, his presence accelerated the manifested will's arrival. Maybe not. Regardless, Kakashi vowed to protect what (and who) he deemed his. The parasite made a grave mistake the moment it entered his territory.

Before the possessed Uchiha could reach him, a vortex of flames intercepted it. Kakashi tracked the parasite's movements, vermillion eyes sharp. Once the entity evaded the fireball, it bounced back. The half-Hatake swept his right leg back and lowered his center of gravity. As he raised his left hand, the possessed Uchiha lashed out. Sparks emitted from the connected kunai.

"You. Will. Be. Erased!" snarled the Uchiha.

His lips curled, exposing his sharp incisors. "I do not wish harm on Uchiha Yakumi," Kakashi began. He brandished a slip of paper hidden in his sleeve. "I guess I'll just have to force you out." The war veteran slammed the seal on the possessed Uchiha's sternum. It illuminated a brilliant gold, eliciting a shriek.

"Burns! Burns! Burns!" the parasite screeched. Yakumi jumped back, distancing himself from the Hatake. The possessed Uchiha clawed viciously at his chest, nails piercing vulnerable flesh. However, the seal latched on tenaciously. Once the vibrant gold transitioned into a luminescent violet, its inhuman shrieks grew louder. "Off! Off! Off!" No matter how ruthless the parasite clawed, the seal wouldn't budge, as if its fingers phased through the seemingly divine paper.

Since the seal was inspired by Rikudō no Nisshoku, and imbued with its power, it cannot be removed by the parasite. It wasn't designed to sever the entity's connection to the Rabbit Goddess, but it gave the parasite a taste of its inevitable fate. Kakashi saw an opportunity and he took it. On the other hand, the half-Hatake didn't brandish his seal to harm the manipulative parasite exclusively.

He intended to separate it.

Kakashi leaped and with a well-placed shunshin, he materialized behind the screeching Uchiha. He gripped the man's shoulder and slammed his open palm against the center of the Uchiha's shoulder blades. Suddenly, his hands illuminated a vibrant gold. Faint tribal markings imprinted on his moonlight skin, a mere echo of Rikudō no Nisshoku. "Get out," he snarled. Without warning, the war veteran yanked. Black tar emerged from the possessed man's shoulder blades. The shadowy substance coalesced around his palm simultaneously roiled and flinched. Kakashi flung the insidious entity on the ground and caught Yakumi. As the half-Hatake lowered the formerly possessed Uchiha on the ground, his hands dimmed and the tribal markings faded.

He pressed his fingers against the older man's neck, directly above his pulse point. Heaving a sigh, Kakashi raised his head and gazed at Madara. A grim somberness was evident in his stormy grey eyes, tempering his unbridled rage. He shook his head. The war veteran suspected, by the time he arrived, Uchiha Yakumi was far too gone. Even if the parasite didn't irrevocably damage its host, and Yakumi lived, the sheer blood loss would inevitably claim his life. He saw the Clan Head's momentary hesitation — if Kaguya's will possessed one of his clansmen, he would undoubtedly falter — and acted accordingly.

Kakashi couldn't save Yakumi, but by separating the malevolent parasite from its host, Madara wouldn't be forced to fight his own flesh and blood.

"You," a sibilant voice hissed. The festering substance bubbling on the ground elongated and morphed. A humanoid shape stood, its tall stature towering over the Clan Head and Hatake ambassador. Its humanoid face remained featureless, except circular sulfuric eyes. A seam ripped open on its face, exposing jagged, but wickedly sharp teeth. Its acid yellow eyes narrowed into slits. "You. Will. Pay!" it shrieked.

Once he closed Yakumi's eyes, Kakashi rose into a standing position. Violet lightning crackled over his lean frame, basking him in a ethereal light. The pinwheels of his Mangekyō spun rapidly. "You. Will. Be. Erased. Zetsu," the war veteran countered, punctuating each syllable with a flash of his sharp incisors.

 

[arbus]

With only one short glance, Kakashi had gauged what Madara needed. He had, as always, delivered upon it expertly.

Witnessing the Sage's power, bestowed upon a man fallen out of time, quickened Madara's interest in a way he began to think of as dangerous: if he was not careful, curiosity would kill the cat. Perhaps it was twisted, this interest in power even in the face of dread and Yakumi's life in mortal danger, but it had taken nothing less than his beloved brother's death to knock that curiosity out of him, and even that had not lasted. Madara was a man drawn to power; he was driven by the wish to internalize, reassamble and then utilize. It was not so far removed from Sakumotsu's sense of wonder when he cast a jutsu that was still just a little too strong for him. It was born from the necessity to survive, and then to protect, and Madara's Eternal Mangekyo spun its rounds attentively, a silent, dispassionate witness to gold on moon-pale hands, a glowing seal and hissing screams that reveberated in his ears. All that even while his heart clenched and ached with a body going down, a familiar face loosing any animation as its puppeteer was forced to withdraw.

With another glance, this one longer and dark, Kakashi told him everything Madara needed to know.

The scroll slipped from a bandage corded around his left upper arm, hidden beneath the wide sleeve. He caught it with his hand, broke the seal with the nail of his thumb and let the parchment tumble onto the ground, unfolding. With a cloud of smoke that tasted like tombs and smelled of old blood, Madara released the weapon.

The parasite screeched at Kakashi: "You. Will. Pay!" and Kakashi snarled right back, and his fury was a beautiful thing to Madara, the static of electricity a companion to his every movement as his right hand closed around the handle of his priced gunbai, adorned with bandages so his fingers would not slip over the cold metal, the left hand around the handle of the kama, both weapons attached to each other through a chain.

Madara cocked his head, chin raised and Mangekyo two eery crimson beacons under his half-lidded gaze. His expression was cold, his features bereft of any emotion despite contempt, and if it made him look arrogant, sure of himself, that was because he kamidamn was.

"Zetsu", he said and was next to its molasses-like body, even as it was still craning its neck to shoot Madara a glance, "your dance is with me."

It was darkly satisfying, how for a moment the acidy eyes widened in a semblance of surprise. A short high kick aimed for the parasite's midriff, but it simply melted away from Madara's shin, body pliant and malleable like paste. "No no no", it screeched. It was angry because of what Kakashi had done to it. Madara understood better than most what anger did to you, in a fight, and while he spent his life mostly under its uncontrollable weight, in battle he was his calmest.

"I will kill the anomaly and then I will show you what you need to see!"

Madara was hardly listening; the kick had been a feint, designed to gauge the parasite's movements, its technique. He was spinning around even as Zetsu lunged for him, and his fingers slipped off the handle of the kama in the same moment he leaped backwards, out of Zetsu's reach. The sickle drove throw the air with force only chakra-enhancement could produce, aimed for Zetsu's neck. Madara was out for its head, for what it had done to Kakashi, for what it intended to do to him.

The kama never made an impact. Zetsu dropped to the floor, pooling like an oil spill. It slithered away like a snake, only to re-mold itself a few paces away.

"Quick", Zetsu taunted, "but not quick enough for Zetsu!"

"No", Madara agreed. "I suppose I have to take it up a notch."

The chakra in his stomach was a tightly coiled spring by now. It flowed in little whirls, pins and needles in every cell of his body. Madara stretched his neck and his vertebra gave a loud crack. He said: "Prepare to meet your end, Zetsu" and then allowed the spring to give way. Masses of chakra flooded his system like tidal waves, and even as Zetsu made for him, he screamed, because that particular impact was the hardest, the most painful, and his body felt two times heavier and lighter and burned with energy and force and the need to make things right.

He flew, eluded every oncoming strike Zetsu was raining down on him now, and Susanoo curled around him in a bluish light as he lifted his gunbai and bashed it against the air. A futon jutsu rose, a whirlwind carrying with it the harbingers of destruction and fire. Zetsu's feet slid over the ground as it tried to hold itself against the onslaught of wind chakra. Fire could not enhance an electrical current. Wind would.

As Madara broadened his stance, swinging the gunbai and creating an ever stronger blast, he shouted, voice almost drowning in the gush and howl of a forming cyclone: "Show me what you Hatake of Raizan can do, Kakashi."

 

[roxybirdie]

Shh-pff.

A faint poof resonated in the glade, indicating the unveiling of a sealed weapon. The stench of graveyard soil and old blood invaded his nostrils. As Madara lunged, Kakashi gazed at the infamous weapon clutched in the Clan Head's right hand. The Gunbai Uchiwa, a non-folding fan carved from a unique spirit tree reserved for ritualistic instruments of exceptional power. The gunbai's distinctive ability of converting incoming chakra into fūton nature transformation techniques — thus reflecting an opponent's attack back — was unparalleled.

In the hands of Uchiha Madara — the gunbai's true master — it was unstoppable.

"I will kill the anomaly and then I will show you what you need to see!"

He bared his teeth and snarled. "Not going to happen," Kakashi growled. As the parasite cackled and mocked, a vicious smile adorned his face. "I'm faster." Without the overwhelming fear constricting his movements, the war veteran summoned the divine power coursing through his veins and moved. He materialized in front of Kaguya's will like a vengeful specter, intercepting a ruthless doton technique. The curved and wickedly sharp spires erupting from the ground fell under the might of his violet lightning. Once the dust generated from the aftermath cleared, Madara unleashed a powerful cyclone.

The atmosphere tasted like an intoxicating amalgamation of woodsmoke and ozone; a wildfire on the verge of ravaging the entire forest. Powerful chakra — such insurmountable potential — rolled off the older Uchiha in waves. It poked and prodded at his senses, a vicious edge darkening the playful nudge. His chakra positively sang, meeting the ruthless inferno with a bloodthirsty tempest. A howl reverberated throughout his skull, flooding his veins with overwhelming acceptance.

Instead of running away, Kakashi welcomed it with open arms.

"Show me what you Hatake of Raizan can do, Kakashi."

A dark smile painted his lips. "I much prefer the Wild Hunt of Jōryokuju," the aforementioned Hatake countered. All the sudden, the violet chakra radiating from his lithe frame shot forward and coalesced into a pack of massive hounds. The entities of pure raiton chakra howled and lunged, tendrils of violet lightning connecting the beasts to its pack leader. The combination of Raiton: Raijū Tsuiga and Raiton: Shiden transformed the devastating technique into chaos incarnate; a technique befitting the divine-touched Hatake. Half the pack leaped and merged with the powerful cyclone, enhancing the fūton release with raiton. The remaining chakra beasts surrounded Kaguya's will, snapping and biting. It herded the parasite closer to the thundering vortex. Every time Black Zetsu struck a beast, it split in half and doubled.

Cut off the head of a hydra and two more heads emerged. The half-Hatake's mastery over raiton release was incomparable.

The parasitic entity attempted to fuse with a tree and connect to its roots, but suddenly, it leaped back as if struck. "Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!" it screeched in outrage. It can manipulate its shadowy form and merge with the ground to evade, but it cannot escape. Something — the chakra burned, burned, burned — surrounded the glade, like an invisible force field designed to imprison it.

Since it cannot escape, Kaguya's will was inevitably struck.

Inhuman shrieks reverberated throughout the clearing. Had it not been for its malleable nature and amortal existence, it would of been obliterated. Kakashi knew nothing — not even the most powerful of nature transformation techniques — could kill the manipulative parasite. It cannot be killed, only destroyed. The divine chakra imbued in Rikudō no Nisshoku would sever its connection with the Rabbit Goddess and end it.

"Powerful ... but not as powerful as Zetsu!" the entity cackled. The insidious shadow fused its obliterated parts and stood, as if the raiton-enhanced vortex didn't bisect it in half and tear it limb from limb. The manifested will could feel pain, and the powerful attack was excruciating, but it was superior. Filthy mortals cannot defeat it. Mother imbued her love and entire will in its veins. No one, not even the Sage of Six Paths, was stronger than mother!

Lightning hounds circled the entity, snarling and snapping. Kakashi gazed at the cackling parasite, face devoid of emotion. With a twitch of his fingers, he manipulated the chakra beasts surrounding the malevolent entity. "We need to immobilize it," he announced, directing his attention to Madara. Unleashing devastating techniques may inhibit the parasite's movements, but he required a complete (or temporary) standstill to activate Rikudō no Nisshoku. Separating Black Zetsu from Uchiha Yakumi exposed his knowledge of seals. It wouldn't make the same mistake twice. Binding it thoroughly enabled him to unleash his trump card.

However, Kakashi couldn't do it alone.

 

[arbus]

As Kakashi's hounds cornered the parasite, Madara swung the gunbai over his head. His movements were almost graceful, lacked the brutality one might suspect behind the power that arose as the muscles in his arms strained, channeling wind into a neat, ever-building stream. It built and cackled with wild electricity, lashing out at Zetsu. Above them, the sky blackened with clouds. A storm was brewing, brought on by the force of their joint efforts. But even as the forces of nature submitted to their power, the parasite, torn to pieces in the vortex of a lightning bolt cyclone, simply regathered itself, again.

Madara would not believe his eyes, had it not been for everything he learned in the Kamui dimension.

He scowled, spun the gunbai in his hand and attached it to a strap on his back to slam his hands together. A wave of power erupted from him, washing over the earth around him. Susanoo's skeleton appearance took flesh, took armor; it was not a completely mobile iteration, beared only its upper torso that harbored Madara in between ghost-ribs, in an ethereal glow that was all oppressive chakra. The arms extended, and the wielding katana in its prank slammed down upon Zetsu, in the midst of an electrical storm that was Kakashi's raiton release.

"I much prefer the Wild Hunt of Jōryokuju."

In the midst of chaos, Madara barked out a laugh. "You're a contrary bastard."

The parasite jumped, just in time to escape the cut of a blade that was five times the size of man. It buried itself deep into the earth. With a crack, the ground split and a broke. The katana left a crater in the soil as it was lifted again.

Even before Kakashi said it, Madara knew what needed to be done: the sweet rhythm of battle had them in sync, as it sometimes — much too seldom for Madara’s tastes— happened. He forced ever more chakra into the manifesting Susanoo, and in a blue flame it expanded once more, upper body now fully armored as it followed its master‘s movements, the unearthly blade cutting through the cornered parasite to have it spill again, and in that moment it took for it to reassamble —

Susanoo‘s hand came down where Kakashi stood, but it was not a hand at all, just pure power that pressed up against one‘s skin, power that was all demand. It curled itself around Kakashi, engulfed him with the same shielding force as it did its master. And that was a good thing, almost too late because not a second later the world went up in flames.

Hellfire burned more mellow than the katon jutsu released from Uchiha Madara‘s lips. A wall of fire built itself around the looming figure that was the parasite, which was growing and cackling like madness incarnate. The fire towered and climbed into the darkened sky, enclosing both Zetsu and the hounds of Kakashi‘s raiton. Flames washed over the earth and consumed everything in their path but for Madara and Kakashi, safe inside Susanoo.

Madara‘s sharp gaze found Yakumi, and the outlines of his clansman‘s body were clear in the kindling flames before they devoured him. Madara took the sorrow, formed it into steel, and struck.

Susanoo‘s hand, curled around Kakashi, moved; parted the flames before him to crave out a path for Kakashi, for him to reach the entrapped parasite and put an end to it, once and for all.

It required focus, to lead Susanoo‘s protective hand around Kakashi without crushing him. To keep the shield that spared him from the flames omnipotent and give him an opportunity to trap the parasite with the devine seals and destroy it, left unperturbed by the hell that had engulfed the glade. When a black hand snuck out from the earth beneath him, Madara did not see it coming.

Only when clammy fingers crawled around his ankle, touched bare skin, did his body flinch, and his head snapped down, towards the crouching figure emerging from the earth, the ragged grin revealing pointed sharp teeth like weapons. Susanoo was impenetrable. It was not possible.

"How —"

"Lies", the parasite croaked, voice as jagged as the void that was its mouth. "The anomaly is feeding you lies, nothing but lies, lies."

The parasite's touch burned like ice on his skin. There was a pull, a shift, and Madara struggled but found himself on his knees with his heart spasming and clenching under the grip of that vicious force. It drove through his sinews like a living thing, disgusting.

And all he saw was Izuna. His brother's face filled out Madara's visual field, his world, the smile vast and happy and an echo of Madara's own emotions. There you are, he said, thank kami, it was all a dream.

Susanoo crumbled around them. The flames licked at the air, at their skin, but they were already loosing their power. In what was perhaps mercy, and most likely a stroke of unbelievable luck, rain started to splutter down, the thick heavy clouds emptying in a downpour that curbed the flames.

It was as if a hand had reached inside Madara's chest, clutched his heart and twisted it out of shape. Whatever had seized his body, it did not belong, the chakra alien, raw and primal and not his own. He heaved, swayed forward and caught himself with his palms. Bile rose in his throat and he gagged, black molasses splattering the floor. His body rejected the parasite like a toxin, but Izuna's face was there before his eyes and happy and alive, and even as he convulsed and shivered and was rendered immobile by clammy fingers crawling all over his skin, his brother's face was with him.

Then, Madara's vision went black. The rain fell in heavy drops on his back and neck and the earth. Zetsu's sudden absence was as stark as the abscene of his own chakra, the sudden drop in power leaving a void in the stillness and rhythmic pitter-patter of the rain.

 

[roxybirdie]

Hashirama

Something was wrong.

Umber eyes gazed at the direction heading east, toward the border connected with the Hatake clan forest. A few hours ago, one of Madara's clansmen — Uchiha Yakumi, one of the fastest shinobi in the clan — was deployed to retrieve his friend. Hashirama stood in front of the main gates patiently, not in the least perturbed by the open wariness (or hatred) the Uchiha guardsmen conveyed. A part of him expected Madara to waltz in at any moment like a haughty jungle cat and demand answers. "Or berate me for standing here like a cumbersome oaf," the Clan Head thought amusingly. His lips twitched, but he didn't smile.

Something was profoundly wrong and contrary to belief, it wasn't the long wait. Hashirama could taste it in the air like a foreboding omen. He could feel it deep in his bones, down to the marrow. A storm was brewing on the horizon and he wasn't speaking metaphorically. Sharp eyes gazed at the dark clouds materializing in the distance. Hashirama wasn't a sensor type like his younger brother, but his Wood Release granted him a unique ability akin to kanchi taipu; he could communicate with the roots in the ground and if he listened, the roots would talk back. "Danger," it whispered. Hashirama surreptitiously coated the bottom of his soles with chakra, breathed in, and listened. "Evil," it whimpered. Impressions — not exactly emotions, but flashes — surfaced in his mind's eye. "Rot," it cried. The brunette focused deeper. "Death," it rasped. All the sudden, images — if he focused hard enough, the roots tell him its secrets — flooded his brain. The Clan Head couldn't discern the amalgamation of colors, but in the midst of the chaos, he recognized the distinctive shape of a unfolding fan.

Before he could react, his vision was flooded with violet and the sounds of a thousand birds chirping.

Hashirama severed his connection and exhaled. What felt like minutes was only seconds. A frown marred his lip, penetrating his tranquil façade. "Madara," he thought. A flicker of uncertainty surfaced. "What are you up to?" The Clan Head glanced at the Uchiha clansmen guarding the main gates. "What can I do to help?" He didn't know what happened, but his friend — his brother — was in danger. Unfortunately, if he informed the guardsmen, the Uchiha would take it as a deliberate provocation on his part. Maybe outright accuse him of violating the ceasefire he — they — worked so hard for.

What can he do to save his friend?

*​

Kakashi

"You're a contrary bastard."

He barked out a laugh, the wolfish sound unmistakably Hatake. "What can I say? I make my own rules!" Kakashi countered.

Immense chakra flooded the atmosphere. As the clouds above darker and writhed — a chaotic thunderstorm summoned by the pure and unadulterated wildfire coalescing in the air — Kakashi gazed at the colossal avatar summoned by the older Uchiha. Susanoo, the strongest technique unlocked by the Mangekyō; a physical manifestation of the Mangekyō's will. He witnessed the Clan Head's Susanoo once upon a time, but instead of being the conjuration of a madman's will, the skeletal construct embodied the desire to protect; and destroy the entity responsible for its counterpart's madness.

Tempestuous God of Valor, indeed.

Boom.

All the sudden, the ground trembled violently. A blade of pure azure chakra — its tremendous size mightier than the tallest oak — penetrated the ground, aiming for a certain manipulative shadow. The earth crumbled under the might of the katana, cleaving the ground in half. The momentum of the blow generated a powerful shockwave. As fissures ripped the soil, and the earth beneath his sandals rumbled, Kakashi didn't falter. Once the luminescent avatar lifted its blade, a deep crater gouged the ravaged soil. Vermillion eyes pinpointed the cackling entity outside the crater's perimeter. The righteous fury coursing through his veins was colder than the frozen tundras of Tetsu no Kuni; a frigid wrath forged by inexorable determination and a unbreakable will.

"To destroy Kaguya's will, your will must be stronger."

A gargantuan hand — technically chakra, but a palm, nonetheless — curved, almost protectively, around him. The formidable chakra — a insurmountable force demanding absolute submission — washed over him, eliciting a shiver. Despite its tremendous presence — and its commanding nature — Kakashi wasn't afraid. On the contrary, his wolf positively roared with immense approval. Mates protected each other. Ignoring the treacherous thought, the war veteran brandished a kunai and sliced his palms open. As the world around him was engulfed in hellfire, Kakashi painted the tribal seals associated with Rikudō no Nisshoku on his moonlight skin. The moment he completed the last stroke, the crimson markings illuminated a vibrant gold and brilliant violet. The half-Hatake dropped the kunai and crouched, directing his attention to the path carved by the Clan Head. He raised his hands and lunged, but—

"The anomaly is feeding you lies, nothing but lies, lies."

"No," murmured Kakashi. Without Madara's concentration, the pathway crumbled.

His toned reflexes — instincts forged by two Shinobi World Wars — and impeccable chakra control prevented him from diving headfirst into a raging inferno. Violet lightning crackled over his lean frame, shielding him from the hellfire. Kakashi twisted in the air, gazing at Madara. His eyes widened completely. "NO!" For a moment, it wasn't Madara on the ground, but Obito. Watching his old teammate (and first friend) be consumed by the insidious shadow inspired him to develop the seal plastered throughout the Hatake clan forest.

It prompted him to reverse-engineer the seal painted on his forearms and bestow him the power to separate Kaguya's will from its host.

"Madara!" The image of his old friend shattered. Kakashi landed on the ground and rushed to Madara's fallen form. He dropped on his knees in front of the Clan Head. As his Mangekyō faded, the war veteran clamped his hands on the older man's shoulders. All traces of his raiton cloak vanished. "I should of known," he rasped. He suppressed the urge to pull the raven closer. The overpowering chakra radiating from the Uchiha's frame was reduced to smoldering embers. Black Zetsu not only possessed Madara, it also siphoned his chakra like a bloodsucking leech. "I should of known," the half-Hatake growled, more to himself than the ravenette. Heavy rainfall drenched the scorched glade, reducing the writhing flames to dark cinders. Fat droplets pelted his crouched form, washing the blood off his thin forearms. A mixture of fear, helplessness, guilt, and self-hatred warred on his expression. "This is my fault, I'm sorry," he whispered brokenly.

He should of known Kaguya's will was capable of penetrating (or phasing through) Susanoo's ultimate defense, but he didn't. The parasite, not once, demonstrated the ability in his original timeline, but it didn't justify his miscalculation. Kakashi underestimated the anomalous versatility of the parasite's malleable physiology. The seals scattered throughout the forest (and the compound) trapped the manipulative entity, but it didn't imprison it. Kakashi initially considered it impossible to truly detain the parasite, but kamidamnit, he was Hatake Kakashi.

He defied the impossible.

Kakashi will devise a seal capable of detecting, trapping, and detaining the malevolent shadow. He will imbue the seal with the divine chakra of the Sage of Six Paths and render Black Zetsu's malleable nature obsolete. He will strengthen the seals in the forest and prevent Kaguya's will from entering his territory. The parasite may of exploited his seal's weakness, but Hatake Kakashi learned from his mistakes.

Next time, the parasitic entity will be destroyed.

The silver-haired halfbreed averted his gaze and surveyed the large clearing. "So much for Training Ground Seven," he thought grimly. Hellfire and violet lightning completely obliterated the glade. As he assessed the damage, Kakashi gazed at the direction of Uchiha Yakumi's corpse. The hellish flames from Susanoo incinerated it and the thundering rainstorm washed away the ashes.

 

[arbus]

When his vision returned and the world blurred back into shape, Kakashi was already by his side. All Madara could think was fire and Susanoo and he lunged forward, his hands grabbing for Kakashi‘s face, eyes wild and frantic as he searched the other‘s frame for burns. His thumbs ran over cheeks and smeared soot into the creases of his skin, palms driving over his torso because to see was not enough, he had to touch, to make sure. Only when his fingers skimmed over unscathed fabric did the tension fall off him. His shoulders visibly slackened. In the bone-chilling presence of fear there was no hesitation in his touch, the attention he paid to every last scrape a matter of course. He directed his focus on Kakashi‘s palms, squinting slightly through his dazed vision as he took the other's hands in his own. The pale fingers splayed long and elegant and blood-red in his own calloused hands. Two sharp cuts but not deep, self-inflicted, preparation for a jutsu that never came to fruiton.

Zetsu was gone. It escaped. Madara could not fathom how the parasite managed it, but he also did not know how it had been able to penetrate Susanoo, which he had considered unpreachable right up until the moment a dark cold hand had seized him and squeezed every last drop of energy out of him.

„Don't be a fool“, he snapped, because Kakashi‘s tendency towards self-loathing was helplessly infuriating to Madara, but he could hardly set Kakashi's head straight, not when his own was spinning wildly and felt strangely weightless. His body ached right down to its last fibre, chakra pathways throbbing like pulse points and sending pangs through him with every heartbeat. He could not remember ever having felt so miserably drained, not even after the fight that ended in ceasefire, his greatest battle thus far. He tugged at Kakashi's hands to gain his attention, catch his eyes. "We're not dead yet. A defeat without death is only temporary."

Madara had been over-confident. Had underestimated, and it infuriated him, but that fury was directed against himself and easily turned into grim resolve. It was written plainly on his face as he stared at Kakashi, black eyes intent. Raindrops large as pebbles splattered against their faces. The storm was unrelenting, growing only in its intensity. A scent like destruction hung in the air, but the rain washed it all away.

"Next time, we will not underestimate our enemy again."

He made to get up, a task so unanticipatedly tedious that his hand fell on Kakashi's shoulder for support. A heartfelt curse flew from his lips, but he stemmed himself up and locked his knees before they buckled. His stomach coiled at the shift in position, all sensation draining from his face like a tingling curtain falling. It cost him entirely too much not to skewer over and throw up. His eyes followed the path Kakashi's had taken. Resolve settled his features. He squeezed Kakashi's shoulder, then took off. Walked, albeit slowly, towards where Yakumi's body had fallen.

While walking, he untied the strap that held the gunbai to his back, and both the fan and the attached kama — their weight now unbearable — fell into the mud with a dull thud.

It was gone. The rain had washed away even Yakumi‘s ashes.

Madara suppressed a sound that would have been unveiled pain. Instead, he stooped, his hand thrusting into soil and scooping it up.

"You brought honor to your clan", he murmured through the daze that was chakra exhaustion -- an experience he did not know how to name as he had never even come close to suffering it -- "You fought for your blood and you died in our fire. In fire you will be reborn." The earth, muddy and wet from the downpour, slipped through his fingers. He inclined his head.

The echo of Izuna‘s counterfeit plucked at the back of his mind, but Madara stifled the memory, pragmatism forcing his hand. There were more pressing matters to attend to first.

"Hashirama", he said.

Hashirama leapt onto the glade. Even soaking wet he made for an imposing sight, and the overwhelming aura of his chakra penetrated the rain and fog of ozone, clear as spring air and warm as sunlight. As he approached them, he raised his hands to his chest, palms outward to signal he did not seek confrontation. But his eyes scooped over the devestated landscape, surprised and worried.

„I am sorry to intrude into Hatake land, Kakashi-san. I am not here on behest of my clan, nor do I wish for any animosity between us.“

„What are you doing here then?“, Madara demanded sharply, and, remembering Yakumi‘s — Zetsu‘s — words, added: „And why were you besieging my clan?“

„I came because you did not respond to my letters! I was worried that something bad had happened to Kakashi-san. Though“, his eyes ran over Madara in a quick swoop, „you are the one who is looking worse for wear. Madara, what happened?“

„I‘m perfectly fine“, Madara spat. „You crossed into Hatake territory to interrupt our training session. That‘s bad diplomacy, Hashirama, isn‘t that something you tried to lecture me on during the summit?“ The lie came bluntly and without hesitation. Madara did not even blink as he stared Hashirama down. „Or would you like to join? I‘m happy to spare you a few minutes of my time and re-introduce you to some of my katon jutsu.“ The challenge in his gaze was all bravado and entirely fake, because it cost him every last drop of self-control not to slump. His body screamed at him to just lie the fuck down, and he defied the overwhelming need with nothing but blind stubbornness. He felt a pang of guilt towards Yakumi, who had not only found such a painfully untimely death but now was disowned from it, through words that amounted to lies that seemed all too transparent .

Hashirama could not know the truth, however. Where even to begin, when Madara saw his childhood friend, the unwilling affection he had never quite ceased to feel towards him, and all he could think of was a blade in his back.

Rather desperately, Madara wanted to know how Kakashi did it; Kakashi, who had lost everything to the future iteration of Madara himself, and yet did not seem to hate him. Did not even seem to blame Madara, and how was that even possible?

 

[roxybirdie]

All the sudden, calloused palms cradled his face. The frantic grip prompted Kakashi to direct his attention to Madara. As the Clan Head's thumbs brushed over his cheekbones — his wolf absolutely preened under the raven's tender caress — the Hatake ambassador instinctively leaned against the older man's touch. He bit back a whine when Madara retracted his hands, but it quelled once the Uchiha focused on his torso. The war veteran understood the Clan Head's overwhelming desire to ensure. It took every fibre of his being not to reciprocate it and bury his nose in Madara's neck. A urgent compulsion to mark the ravenette with his scent washed over him, but he repressed it. Without warning, the older Uchiha seized his hands and flipped the palms upward, displaying the two horizontal gashes on his moonlight skin. The cuts stung, but the raven's soothing warmth (and gentle touch) alleviated the pain.

"Don't be a fool,"

A frangible smile adorned his face. Kakashi opened his mouth, a rebuttal on the tip of his tongue, but—

"We're not dead yet. A defeat without death is only temporary."

The words died in his throat. Suddenly, the Clan Head tugged his hands, prompting the half-Hatake to lift his gaze. Charcoal met obsidian. His heart simultaneously clenched and warmed at the firm resolve evident on the raven's expression. Heaving a sigh, Kakashi raised his palm and cupped Madara's face. "So stubborn," he murmured. A faint, but genuine smile painted his lips.

"Next time, we will not underestimate our enemy again."

A howl resonated inside his mind, flooding his veins with overpowering acceptance. Something dark and primal — a burning desire to claim — bubbled underneath the surface. Out of nowhere, Kakashi was hit with a intense desire to kiss Madara. His wolf clawed at his chest, itching to be released. The half-Hatake immediately retracted his hand, as if burned. Fortunately, before the relentless urge consumed him, the Clan Head rose into a standing position. Once Madara looked as if he were about to collapse, Kakashi instinctively draped a supportive palm on the older man's hip. A flicker of concern surfaced inside his dark grey eyes. As the Clan Head brushed past him, the war veteran's gaze remained fixated on the raven's backside. Should Madara stumble, Kakashi wouldn't hesitate to intervene.

"You fought for your blood and you died in our fire. In fire you will be reborn."

His heart constricted. Kakashi may play the unassuming scarecrow, but he looked underneath the underneath. While Madara considered him a friend — a potential to trust — the halfbreed wasn't blind to the animosity brewing in the clan. Uchiha Yakumi and a large portion of the clansmen — both men and women — loathed his existence. He suspected the festering resentment also revolved around the ceasefire. Not all the Uchiha — he anticipated the same for the Senju — believed in the concept of peace. Kakashi watched a failed coup d'état annihilate the noble clan once.

Never again.

A part of him — foolishly idealistic, but unrepentantly relentless — hoped (and prayed) it never came to pass. However, Kakashi witnessed the Curse of Hatred at its darkest and ugliest. He looked it directly in the eye and died without baring his throat. The war veteran could only hope one day — even if it took his entire lifetime — the generations of prejudice, hatred, and bloodshed softened under the weight (and might) of peace.

While Yakumi died hating him — completely embroiled in the insidious curse — Kakashi never wished him dead.

"Pack," a voice howled.

The Uchiha, even if the clansmen hated his guts, are his to protect.

"I‘m happy to spare you a few minutes of my time and re-introduce you to some of my katon jutsu."

He felt the warmth of spring awakening with the rising sun long before Senju Hashirama approached the decimated training ground. Without his handkerchief, Kakashi felt significantly vulnerable in front of the imposing Clan Head. On the other hand, despite his overwhelming discomfort, Kakashi donned his porcelain mask and erased all traces of his initial fear, helplessness, guilt, and self-loathing. He picked up his metaphorical fiddle and played the fool. "Maa, maa, it's two-to-one now. You win this round, Madara," the half-Hatake announced. The treacherous lie felt like ash on his tongue. Kakashi simultaneously wanted to throttle Madara — Hashirama is your friend, mangy cat — and destroy anything (or anyone) — even the Senju Head — if they so much as look at the stubborn ravenette.

"Mine, mine, mine," a traitorous voice growled.

"Training?" parroted Hashirama. He surveyed the extremely scorched glade.

Kakashi could practically hear the gears turning in the brunette's head. Despite his jovial personality, Senju Hashirama became the God of Shinobi for a reason. He flattened his palms on the upturned soil and forced himself to stand. Without warning, Kakashi staggered heavily. "Oh dear," he huffed. He tipped precariously to his side, but before he could collapse, Hashirama rushed forward and caught him.

"Are you alright, Kakashi-san?" the Senju inquired.

He mustered a sheepish grin. "I don't think I experienced chakra exhaustion in a long time. I'm a little woozy," Kakashi admitted. He surveyed the clearing, as if gazing at the damage for the first time. A fleeting chuckle rumbled inside his chest. "I guess we did go overboard," he added. The half-Hatake attempted to stand on his own, but his knees buckled. Had it not been for the steadying hand clamped on his shoulder, Kakashi would of toppled over.

"You're bleeding," Hashirama murmured with a frown.

The Hatake ambassador followed the direction of the brunette's gaze. "Maa, when you have a kama flying at you, you tend to react on instinct," he pointed out. Kakashi flipped his palms upward, exposing the deep cuts on the bottom of his hands. "Madara's gunbai is a menace," he grumbled. Since his face was devoid of a mask, it amplified the disgruntlement evident on his expression.

"Can you walk?" the Senju Head questioned, concern apparent in his tone.

He hummed thoughtfully. "I'm not sure," Kakashi confessed. His charcoal gaze swept over the glade. "I'm surprised I'm still awake," he mused.

Kakashi felt sick to his stomach. A man died — kami-sama, finding a explanation for Yakumi's death without violating the alliance or ceasefire will be a complete nightmare — and he pretended as if nothing happened. It wasn't like a bloodthirsty, filthy parasite trespassed on his territory and attacked. No, it was nothing, but a harmless training session gone too far. Uchiha Madara and Hatake Kakashi are powerful men; it was inevitable. He wanted to vomit, but he didn't out of sheer stubbornness. Kakashi wanted to hate Madara for his terrible, terrible lies, but he couldn't. He understood chakra exhaustion intimately. It became an integral part of his life — his identity — for over two decades. While the blood of his old friend, and the divine power of the Sage of Six Paths, coursed through his veins, he would never forget its paralyzing touch.

Therefore, he didn't require physical experience to imitate it. Hatake Kakashi may have many skills, but the art of deception — the entire foundation of deflection — was his bread and butter; his ultimate technique. His impeccable chakra control, and his ironclad shield over his fathomless power, furthered his performance. The key to a perfect lie — what made it convincing — was a kernel of truth. While Kakashi disapproved of Madara's sham, all he could think of was protect, protect, protect. To see a man like Madara, whom never once experienced the incapacitated grip of chakra exhaustion, be reduced to a piteous state made his wolf positively seethe.

The war veteran will do anything — even if it meant diverting Hashirama's attention on his person — to protect what (and who) he deemed his.

 

[arbus]

"Maa, maa, it's two-to-one now. You win this round, Madara."

Thank kami for Kakashi's quick wits, because Madara was playing this by the minute, and if Hashirama had unexpectedly agreed to his challenge to join the spar he would have had no trouble to scrub the floor with him. And Madara was not sure if his ego could stand that humiliation. Even the thought was mortifying.

"Let's call it even", Madara replied, and he was not referring to their bullshit excuse but the actual confrontation. They had not been able to destroy Zetsu, had not even been able to imprison him, but they had trapped him, cornered him -- even if just for a short period of time -- and they would be able to do it again. A fish that slipped from your hook was harder to catch a second time, but Madara had never been one to turn down a challenge. Zetsu owed him its existence, its destruction, for what it had done to Yakumi; for hurting Kakashi; for the evil it caused in the past and the havoc it sought to reek decades into the future.

"Training?"

"Don't look so surprised, Hashirama", Madara retorted waspishly. "Just because you are hesitant to go all out does not mean that other people don't enjoy it."

He was reaching for an old argument for diffusion's sake, one that was streaked with history that reached back into their childhoods. Everything between him and Hashirama was complicated through the obstacles of feuds and battles fought half-grudgingly, even unwillingly sometimes, when the dream of peace and collaboration had hung fresh between them. Bitterness had scourged their friendship into something achingly complicated, and their fights had grown in their intensity over the past couple of years, but Hashirama was his most formidable rival, and they always found each other on the battlefield. Not once, though, had any one of them so much as tried to go for the killing strike. Hashirama notoriously curbed his own capacities and Madara followed his example, because he did not want to harm him, not if it was not earned.

Madara had always assumed he would die young, and if so only under Hashirama's hands; had known with absolute certainty that he would meet his end head-on in the face of Hashirama's burning gaze.

Not with a blade driven in his back.

Madara understood, in a diffuse, confusing sort of way, how he could become a monster made of chalk and power and madness. But he did not understand how Hashirama, who was the steadfast, unshakeable cliff against the sweeping tide of Madara's rage, reliable even through animosity and war, would ever be able to forfeit his honor in the way Kakashi's scroll predicted. Madara knew his future self was guilty of unspeakable atrocities. He probably deserved to die that way (not that he stayed dead, for kami's sake), without honor, but it was devestating nonetheless. Madara wondered what kind of man he needed to become to prevent this from happening, to prevent his future self to reduce Hashirama to this.

"Oh dear."

A sound erupted from Madara's throat as he saw Kakashi stagger in an attempt to get up, fortunately swallowed by the heavy pitter-patter of the rain. A wave of gratefulness washed over him as he saw Hashirama hurrying to Kakashi's side, even as he simultaneously realized Kakashi's ruse. Of course that bastard was a great actor. He did not even bat an eyelash during his performance, and Madara was both thankful and profoundly glad that the sneaky, cunning mutt was on his side, his brilliance and deception for once not directed against him.

Relieved that Kakashi had spared him the humiliation, Madara closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

"I'm surprised I'm still awake."

"Madara“, Hashirama chided in a tone that was one part accusation and two parts exasperation. Madara thought that if Hashirama really had a grasp on what Kakashi could do, how powerful he was, he would not look so glum.

"Kakashi can hold his own in a fight", he snapped, appropriately miffed that Hashirama even dared to insinuate otherwise. Hashirama looked about ready to argue the point, probably lecture him on the difference of holding one's own and being thoroughly chakra depleted after going up against Madara, but he held his tongue. Thank kami for the small mercies.

Hashirama seemed torn, looking from Kakashi to Madara and back.

Madara rolled his eyes. „Now, thanks to you and your boorish attempt to get my attention, I need to travel back to the compound to let my clan know they are not under siege." It was just like Hashirama to do something so foolish and mean his absolute best attempting it. Their clans' feud had cost yet another life; if his clanspeople had not expected harm from Hashirama, if they believed stronger in the ceasefire and Hashirama's goodwill, they would not have felt the need to send Yakumi to retrieve Madara. And Zetsu would have never gotten the chance to harm him. Madara clenched his fist, frustration bubbling inside him. "Kakashi looks as if he might faint any moment, Hashirama.“

"Oh", Hashirama said, looking a bit dumbfounded. It took him a moment to connect the dots. "I will escort you to your clan's dwellings if that is alright with you, Kakashi-san. You should not travel alone in your state." He smiled encouragingly. "My brother tells me a good long rest and a healthy meal will help ease your chakra depletion." Hashirama himself, of course, would not know, though he was too kind to say that. Before they could take off -- Hashirama's arm wrapped firmly around Kakashi's torso -- Madara found Kakashi's gaze. Thank you, it said, and Don't worry and I've got this.

When they finally, finally had left the perimeter, Madara took a step. He had half a mind to retrieve his gunbai and kama but knew that was a foolish idea, because the world spun around him as if a jutsu was turning it on its head. His hands and feet were numb, and his body screamed to stop moving, but Madara thought that if he allowed himself to lie down even for a moment he would not get up any time soon, and drowning in a puddle of mud was decidedly not how he desired to meet his end.

*​

Hatake Compound -- half an hour after the incident

​

Hashirama was waiting patiently in the small ceremony room off the main building of Hatake Noka's abode, hands folded in his lap. The steaming cup of tea before him was his third. His hair had gone from dripping wet to slightly dampened, and he ran his fingers through it once as not to look disheveled when he came eye to eye with the esteemed Hakake clan head. He was glad that he could assist Kakashi-san to get home, but something about this whole affair did not sit right with him.

Madara, for one, had not moved even an inch during their whole conversation and the way he had left his priced weaponry lying careless in the mud struck Hashirama as completely uncharacteristic.

And had Tobirama not talked about Kakashi to Hashirama in great lengths, about the strength of his chakra and how impossible it seemed to him that someone like that should have flown under the radar for so many years? What exactly went down between Madara and Kakashi to sap the latter of that strength? Could something that drained his reserves so thoroughly really have been nothing more than a friendly spar?

Hashirama was under the distinct impression that he was being misled, but as of yet he could not put his finger on what they were trying to hide from him, and why.

Not one to jump to rash conclusions, he resigned himself to sit in the heart of a rivaling, non-allied clan, content to nurse the chill in his bones with hot tea and wait for the clouds to clear, both literally and metaphorically.

*
​

Hatake Compound -- an hour after the incident

​

"Kami!" When Hina went to retrieve a scroll from her clan head's office -- the Daimyo's infamous invitation -- for Noka's conversation with their newest guest, she had not exactly reckoned for anyone to be there, let alone the Uchiha, sprawled on the floor like he kamidamn owned the place! It was dark in the stuffy room, even though the door to the outside was slid half-open. He must have snuck in through that, and Hina was prepared to give him a good talk-down despite her heart beating too fast in her chest -- the Uchiha was powerful and scary -- but the words tangled in her throat as she stepped closer.

The Uchiha clan head leaned with his back against the wall next to the door, legs splayed and arms heavy and lifeless. He sat slumped in a spreading puddle of mud, seeping into the precious furs splayed to every nook of the room. He looked as if he had taken a tumble more than once on his way here, rumpled, soggy and caked in mud, and now he was dead-to-the-world asleep, and Hina did not know how to process that information at all.

So she didn't. She simply turned on her heels and left, searching for Hatake Noka to relay to her the news that Uchiha Madara had snuck into her office to take a nap.

 

[roxybirdie]

"My brother tells me a good long rest and a healthy meal will help ease your chakra depletion."

His lips twitched. Kakashi could almost feel a certain rose petal-haired student of his gaze at him accusingly. He rarely (if ever) waited long enough to rest and replenish his chakra pathways. Unless he was incapable of movement — at one point, his not-so-cute student broke his legs to immobilize him — or unconscious, Kakashi slipped out of bed and forgone all sense of recuperation.

He earned the moniker, Konoha Hospital's Worse Patient, for a reason.

All the sudden, a sturdy arm coiled around his torso. Kakashi anticipated it, but he stiffened, nonetheless. He swallowed the sudden urge to lash out — the seasoned war veteran never liked to be touched unless he considered the designee pack — and forced himself to relax. "Maa, you're too kind, Hashirama-san," he replied blithely. Had it not been for his foreknowledge of clan protocols, Kakashi would of declined. The seals plastered throughout the forest are anchored to four pillars; Nōka, Ginjiro, Shinra, and himself. When the filthy parasite infiltrated his territory, his mother undoubtedly ordered a complete lockdown. By now, the lockdown should be lifted.

Kakashi didn't know what she fed their clansmen regarding the lockdown, but he was confident she smoothed it over. Hatake Nōka may be a temperamental wolfwoman, but she was a formidable Clan Head; one of the best the Hatake had in generations. On the other hand, he wouldn't be surprised if she bullshitted her way out of relaying the truth. Maa, like mother, like son.

His gaze instinctively sought the troublesome ravenette's. Don't push yourself, his dark eyes conveyed. A glint of mischief surfaced. Mangy cat, it said. His lips curved upward, but it wasn't enough to shield the concern evident in his charcoal hues. Be careful, he mouthed. It took every fibre of his being to leave the training ground with Hashirama. Despite his exemplary performance, Kakashi didn't want to leave Madara alone in his vulnerable condition.

*​

Hatake Compound — Half An Hour Later

Slender fingers carded through the head of unruly silver. Light puffs exuded on the crook of his neck, but the slumbering pup curled on his lap didn't stir. Kakashi continued his ministrations, not in the least perturbed by his current position. Had the seals not alert him — had he been a few seconds too late — his precious, sweet, innocent baby brother would of—

His grip tightened. The half-Hatake pressed his cheekbone on top of the pup's head and rubbed it lightly. Half an hour ago, Hashirama escorted him to the main gates. While the Clan Head technically trespassed on Hatake land — in normal circumstances, the ramifications would of been a nightmare, but a manipulative parasite took precedence — his mother granted Hashirama entrance. She didn't bat an eye at his deception and picked up her own metaphorical fiddle. Nōka reprimanded him for destroying his training ground and whisked him away for treatment.

As if the compound wasn't recently on lockdown and he challenged Madara to a spar.

"A foreign convoy hired by the Hatsuharu civilian clan?" drawled Kakashi.

Inside the ambassador's personal quarters, his ancestor (and official stepfather) sat across his fūton. Hatake Ginjiro was a man of few words, but his dry wit was legendary. While he sported the signature Hatake silvery locks — his namesake — his eyes are molten amber. It wasn't uncommon for Hatake to find a mate in non-Hatake. His father was a Hatake, but his mother hailed from the harsh tundras of Tetsu no Kuni. Kakashi considered the older man pack, but he could never bring himself to call him father or tou-san. Ginjiro was an amazing father to Sakumotsu — deep down, Kakashi knew his ancestor loved him as if he were his own son — but it felt wrong. Hatake Nōka would never replace his mother, and the same concept applied to Ginjiro, but something about it made his wolf rebel.

Hatake Sakumo was a flawed man, but Kakashi loved his father fiercely, nonetheless.

His ancestor understood and never once pushed him. "The Hatsuharu never liked our authority over the island and it only grew worse once you secured the trading route for the Uchiha clan. With all the trouble brewing on the harbor, we have enough evidence to punish the clan however we deem fit according to the treaty," Ginjiro replied. He folded his arms across his chest. "It was only a matter of time before they resorted to extreme measures," he pointed out. Hiring foreign shinobi to infiltrate Hatake territory and lay siege on the compound wasn't entirely unfeasible.

"Madara and I intercepted the shinobi before they could reach the compound and dispatched the threat. We have no obligation to divulge the truth to Hashirama-san. Therefore, our clan as a whole backed up my performance," Kakashi deduced.

"That's the gist of it."

He glanced at the slumbering pup inside his arms. The moment he entered the main estate, Sakumotsu latched onto him like a limpet. It broke his heart — and made his wolf mourn — watching his baby brother blubber his heart out, but he was tremendously grateful for his mother's impeccable timing. Sakumotsu was safe and away from the filthy parasite's influence. Kakashi didn't even fight the instinct to hold his brother and (occasionally) mark him with his scent. Hatake are tactile creatures and scent-marking ensured his favorite pup was completely safe.

"Have we identified the foreign shinobi?" Kakashi inquired.

"Should we?" Ginjiro countered.

For a moment, the war veteran grew silent. He tucked a stray lock behind Sakumotsu's ear. "I think I have an idea," he murmured.

*​

Meanwhile

Suddenly, the shōji door leading inside the ceremonial room opened. Nōka waltzed in with Shinra flanking her left side. "I see the tea is doing wonders. You look more like a Clan Head and less like a drowned rat," she drawled. She took a seat in front of the low table across Hashirama. As her partner curled around her protectively, the wolfwoman poured herself a cup.

He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "The herbal blend is excellent," Hashirama complimented. He lowered his palm. "If I may, how is Kakashi-san doing?" he inquired.

Nōka snorted. "He's a terrible patient," she deadpanned. She raised her cup and took a sip. "He's resting, but had it not been for Sakumotsu, I would of knocked him out myself." The wolfwoman looked as if she wanted to throttle her oldest pup. "The brat acts as if he's allergic to rest," she grumbled.

Out of nowhere, the face of a certain stubborn ravenette flashed inside his mind. His lips twitched in response, but he swallowed the snort. "I'm glad," Hashirama replied and he meant it. While he personally never experienced it himself, chakra exhaustion was a serious ailment if left untreated. Proper rest and sustenance replenished the depleted chakra pathways.

She arched an eyebrow at the younger man's apparent concern, but ignored it. "On the behalf of the Hatake, I thank you for escorting my pup back home," Nōka began. She lowered her cup. "It does not, however, justify you trespassing on Hatake territory without correspondence or a Hatake escort," she added. Her sharp dark grey eyes scrutinized the younger Clan Head. "Our alliance with the Uchiha is the only thing keeping me from taking offense to your blatant act of disrespect, Hashirama-san. You wouldn't do something so foolish to jeopardize the ceasefire," she pointed out.

He suppressed a wince. "I did not come here on the behalf of my clan, Nōka-san, but I would like to express my deepest apologies," Hashirama replied.

The wolfwoman huffed. "Next time you get concerned over your friend, brat, have the decency to knock," she snarked.

A sheepish chuckle rumbled inside his chest. "It wasn't just Madara, but duly noted," the Clan Head mused. Suddenly, a thought came to mind. "I did not come here on my clan's behalf, but if I may be so bold, may I inquire your opinion on something?" Hashirama questioned.

"The daimyō's scroll?" Nōka deduced.

If Hashirama was surprised by her insight, he didn't show it. "What are your thoughts on it?" he asked.

*​

Hatake Compound — One Hour Later

Uchiha Madara — one of the most powerful men in Hi no Kuni and arguably the world — was slumped over inside his mother's stuffy office. For a moment, all Kakashi could do was stare. A part of him didn't believe Hina, but the truth was slumbering against the wall, completely dead to the world. One hour passed since the half-Hatake returned from his proclaimed spar. Kakashi initially resigned himself to a night — his wolf wasn't complaining; all it could think of was protect, protect, protect — with a wolf-monkey attached to his person, but out of nowhere, the scent of woodsmoke and sandalwood washed over him.

Kakashi never realized how attuned he was to the Clan Head's scent. Not even a heavy rainstorm deterred him from the raven's scent. It was undeniable proof of his budding affection. With the help of Ginjiro, the half-Hatake detached himself from his little brother's iron grip and slipped away. Following the scent, Kakashi intercepted Hina before she notified his mother.

Not that he stopped her. Hatake Nōka will be amused.

"You really look like a mangy cat now," the war veteran huffed amusingly. Charcoal eyes assessed the globs of dirt caked on the older Uchiha's frame. Madara looked as if he fought a mud puddle and lost. Kakashi didn't know if he should laugh at the absurdity or kiss the stubborn fool. Without another word, the half-Hatake closed the door behind him and approached the slumbering ravenette. He shut the side door leading to the engawa and retrieved one of the few remaining furs not drenched in mud. As Kakashi settled next to Madara — uncaring of the rainwater and mud caking his fresh yukata — he draped the large fur over the Clan Head. "Better than a wet dog, I suppose," he muttered.

All the sudden, a wave of exhaustion washed over him. Perhaps, the intensity of the battle — and the staggering tension it invoked — caught up with him. On the other hand, something about the peculiar sight and the soft pitter-patter of rain lulled him to sleep. Before he drifted off, his head dropped on the older Uchiha's shoulder. As he closed his eyes, Kakashi breathed in the raven's intoxicating scent. All traces of his lingering tensity dissipated. It took every ounce of self-control not to bury his nose in Madara's neck. Heaving a sigh, the war veteran fell in a light slumber.

 

[arbus]

When Hashirama left through the gates of the Hatake compound, he did so with a friendly young guard named Hina, who looked in equal parts perturbed and curious as they traversed Hatake land. Hashirama made sure to pace himself and adjust to her speed, even though he felt a deep urge to be home and seek out his brother. Tobirama's intelligence was unparalleled, and Hashirama always felt clearer after talking to him.

Many things were on Hashirama's mind.

He had come to the Uchiha compound -- foolishly, yes -- to talk to Madara, who had stopped responding to his letters shortly after the attack on Kakashi-san. Concern brew in Hashirama like a particularly sickening concoction, for the ceasefire, for the plans they had been making with less and less veiled enthusiasm. This abrupt cease in correspondance struck Hashirama as odd, because Madara was a man with a temper but he was also level-headed and calculating if the situation required it. He would not risk the fragile peace between their clans without a good reason. Moreover, he had seemed genuinely pleased with the way their negotiations were headed. Hashirama's worst concern, that Hatake Kakashi had succumbed to the injuries he had sustained, had been wrong. That was a great relief, but it left the question about Madara's sudden, renewed stand-offishness unanswered.

And who, Hashirama mused, had attacked Kakashi in the first place? He did not think they ever found out, or if they did, no one bothered to tell him. Hatake Noka certainly had been tight-lipped about the whole ordeal, even as Hashirama had politely prodded her about it.

Then there was the Daimyo's summit; Hashirama felt enthusiastic about the opportunity, but Tobirama did not share his optimism. He said that no clan head would be foolish enough to come between the Senju and the Uchiha, but Hashirama thought that now that the ceasefire proofed itself stable, they just might take this exceptional opportunity for peace. It was a chance for unprecedented prosperity for all of their clans. If the Hatake accepted the invitation, the Inuzuka would follow, and like an avalanche every other clan of Hi no Kuni would fall into place and meet at one table.

Hashirama could hardly curb his excitement.

But the whispers of trees lay heavy in his mind, of rot and evil. He knew when Madara lied to him, because he was bad at it. But just what that lie entailed, Hashirama had not been able to figure out.

He bid his companion goodbye at the brink of Uchiha territory. The Senju lands did not border on Hatake lands, but Hashirama only needed to traverse the Naka, and in an hour he would be home.

*
​

A Dream

It was one of those days on the brink of summer when the air sweeping over the lands in a light breeze was heavy with the warmth of the sun. Early in the mornings the day was clearest, already bright, every shape in sharp relief, every color satiated. Birds chirped in the trees above, and the shoji doors to Madara's study stood wide open as they would for most of the season. Madara wore a light yukata and was on bare feet. His skin felt fresh and clean and his step was light as he reached the brink of the engawa.

The koi pond lay as it always did, peaceful in the midst of the inner garden -- Madara's private sanctuary -- the long branches of the hunched willow reaching for the water's surface. His eyes swept over the peaceful scene. The sun was still behind the roof but it would soon wander far enough to plunge the whole garden in a bright-warm hue, glaring and welcomed.

The figure sat with his back to him, tangling his feet into the pond, hands braced against the stones he was sitting on. Madara knew who he was, even though it was impossible. He stood frozen, but the other lifted his head and the dark eyes of his brother found his, a beaming smile on his face.

"You found me!"

"I - Izuna", Madara stuttered, and it was the smile that set Madara in motion. He swept over the small patch of grass. "Izuna!"

It was a dream. He was having one of his nightmares, and at any minute, Izuna's face would twist, and his hands would lunge for Madara's eyes, hollowed-out sockets quelling with blood and staring with accusation and killing intent.

"What's the matter, aniki?", Izuna asked, eyebrows raised in that haughty, adolescent way of his that used to drive Madara up a tree, "Cat caught your tongue?"

Perhaps it was this micro-expression, something that no dream, however vivid, could reproduce. Perhaps it was the joviality in Izuna's tone, and the mocking undercurrent, ever-present when he wanted to taunt Madara. Perhaps it was the first ray of sunshine thrown over the tiles and blinding Madara's vision, or perhaps it was the warmth and physicality and realness of his brother's touch against his arm as he looked at him, puzzled.

"Are you alright, aniki?"

It was all so real, so vivid, and Izuna had not turned into a spiteful monster yet. Madara could not help himself.

He allowed his knees to buckle, and then dropped to the ground in front of Izuna, hands clasping at the grass as he bowed. "I'm sorry", he blurted, because the words had been clogged in his throat since the moment his brother had stopped breathing, "I'm sorry, Izuna, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Sorry that he could not safe him. That he could not protect him, even though he had sworn it. Sorry that he failed him, sorry that he took his eyes, sorry that they made him even more powerful and that none of that mattered if he was not able to protect the ones he loved.

"Shh." There was a light touch on the back of Madara's head. He could not look up, could not let his brother see the tears in his eyes and the agony his death had caused him, but Izuna swept his arms around him, pulled him into a tight embrace. "I'm fine, aniki. I'm right here, and I'm fine. Nothing can hurt me anymore. Neither of us. We are fine."

*

​

Hatake Compound -- sometime past midnight

Madara woke with a start. His heart was racing, but it was not fear that drove it, but excitment, joy. He blinked into the darkness, and for moments on end he could not quite remember where he was, or when. The pull of the dream was strong, almost enough for him to succumb to it once more -- he wanted to be back in the garden, under the glaring sunlight with his brother -- but then he felt the heavy presence next to him, and the memories flooded back.

Kakashi was leaning next to him, his weight heavy against Madara's shoulder. Body pliant and still, he was fast asleep, his breaths coming in a slow, regular rhythm. His face was bare and beautiful and the sight put a vice around his chest, not uncomfortable, but very distinct. There was a heavy fur on top of Madara, and he was thankful because he was freezing; he felt dirty and stiff and he ached, but Kakashi's presence, the warmth radiating from his body was soothing. A mud-crusted arm found its way clumsily around Kakashi's shoulders and he drew him in, under the blanket, for warmth and company and because his trust meant everything to Madara. No shinobi slept in front of another if they did not entrust them with their lives. Turning his face, he buried his nose in Kakashi's unruly hair. Like this, the world could wait, for another few hours at least.

Madara closed his eyes again and drifted.

*​

The Same Dream

​

"I'm glad you're back, aniki", Izuna was saying. He was peeling an orange, and the scent was heavenly. He stretched out an arm and offered Madara a slice. "Hungry?"

"Starving", Madara admitted, but hesitated. "This is all a dream."

Izuna looked at him in wonder. "Aniki, no. This is not just a dream."

"What does that mean?"

Izuna shrugged. "You'll find out soon enough, aniki." He wagged the orange slice in front of Madara's eyes. "Well?"

Madara snatched it out of his hand. He was starting to feel a bit irritated about the smugness in Izuna's expression, in the best possible way. He took a seat next to his brother, slipped the slice between his lips and plunged his feet into the pond. Izuna laughed.

*
​

Hatake Compound -- early morning

​

When Madara woke next, it was with the taste of oranges on his tongue and a precise feeling of how much time had passed (how much time he had spent at the koi pond). Daylight shone milkily into Hatake Noka's office, but it was still early. Madara's neck was stiff from the awkward position he had spent the night in, but he could not say he minded much. Kakashi was curled up snug and warm against him, and it cost no effort at all to imagine himself kissing his face until he woke, and then maybe keep kissing him for a while longer. But Madara curbed that urge at its root, because it was impossible, and he was not foolish enough to believe otherwise. Carefully, trying not to stir the other, he withdrew his arm. Throwing back the fur blanket, he made to stand, but his limbs were so stiff he could hardly manage.

What had Zetsu done to him?

He made it to his feet, but the effort cost him the complacency of sleep, and the world skewered and remained somewhat lop-sided. He was so ravenously hungry he felt sick with it, his stomach a tight uncomfortable knot.

"Kakashi", he murmured. He had thought he would walk out of the office, take a bite and traverse home, but instead he was a panting mess, leaning heavily against the wall for support to keep standing at all. He closed his eyes and thought of koi ponds. Nobody could see him like this, and that realization rose like panic inside his mind. "Kakashi", he repeated, with more urgency in his voice.

 

[roxybirdie]

Past Midnight

Coldness seeped deep inside his bones. Shivers trickled down his spine. The warmth radiating from his side wasn't enough to quell the unforgiving chill. All the sudden, something heavy draped over his shoulders and pulled him close. Warmth flooded his veins, as if a blanket covered his shivering frame. Kakashi heaved a sigh, burrowing his face against the soothing warmth. Something firm rested on top of his head, but he ignored it. He inhaled deeply, welcoming the overpowering scent of fire and woodsmoke. Once he exhaled, the war veteran curled against the warmth and fell into a deeper slumber.

*​

Dreamscape

"Maa, you've always been fascinated by fire," a lazy voice drawled.

He blinked. Suddenly, Kakashi was perched on a fallen log in front of a roaring bonfire. The flames banished the last remnants of the harsh chill. He surveyed the fathomless void surrounding the impromptu campsite. "I'm not dead, am I?" he inquired. Kakashi averted his attention to the figure occupying a log adjacent to his. "I don't remember dying," he mused.

Hatake Sakumo snorted. "You're very much alive, pup," he huffed amusingly.

He hummed. Considering it was the same place he appeared during Pein's Assault, it wouldn't surprise him. "Maa, a nightmare then," Kakashi replied.

"Ouch. I'm that bad, huh?"

He gazed at the wavering flames. "I rarely have good dreams nowadays," the younger Hatake murmured.

The White Fang picked up a stick and stoked the campfire. "Do you remember when I use to take you to our clan's forest and camp under the stars?"

"I just started the Academy and wanted to learn survivalist skills before my classmates." Kakashi watched the flames writhe. "You wanted to show me what our ancestors once owned before we gave most of it to the village," he added. The war veteran directed his attention to his father. "I said it was stupid, but you reminded me the Hatake have always been prosperous, with or without our land," he pointed out.

A chuckle rumbled inside his chest. "I almost forgotten how sharp your memory is," the older Hatake mused.

"Hatake genius at its finest."

Sakumo laughed. "My prodigious pup." He presented the stick to Kakashi. "Do you remember how you use to look at the campfire?"

He accepted it. "It reminded me of what kaa-san use to say," Kakashi admitted. He stared at the dwindling flame on the tip of his stick. "We are made of lightning, but our hearts are pure fire," he began.

"We bring destruction to our enemies and life to our pack," Sakumo continued.

"From the thundering clouds of Raizan to the evergreen forests of Jōryokuju," the war veteran added.

"We are one," the White Fang concluded.

"It was her favorite oath," Kakashi murmured. He dipped the stick in the heart of the bonfire. "She was your fire," he reminded.

A nostalgic grin adorned his face. "The strongest katon master in all of Konohagakure, arguably mightier than the Uchiha," Sakumo boasted.

"She said if I ever get lonely, look at the flames," Kakashi announced.

"Takara-chan always believed we descended from fire instead of lightning," the older Hatake chuckled. He gazed at the bonfire. "Fire and lightning go hand-in-hand. Fire gives lightning life and lightning gives fire power. It doesn't surprise me you chose the strongest katon master in Hi no Kuni as your mate. We Hatake have always been drawn to fire," he murmured.

Kakashi stiffened. "I'm not—" his father cut him off,

"You are."

His throat constricted. "I can't," the halfbreed whispered.

"What are you so afraid of, pup?"

Silence washed over the campsite. "If I fall, there's no going back." The roaring flames basked his frontside in a warm light, highlighting his unshed tears. "If I lose another—" his breath hitched. Kakashi swallowed thickly and closed his eyes. "—if I lose him, the world will burn."

"Don't you think he's worth the risk?"

*​

Early Morning

Before a certain Uchiha retracted his arm, Kakashi was curled against the older man's side. His frame melded against the Clan Head's marvelously, as if two compatible puzzle pieces slotted together. The half-Hatake was halfway on his side, head tucked underneath the raven's chin and nose buried against the Uchiha's collarbone. Once Madara slipped away, the war veteran surprisingly didn't stir.

"Kakashi,"

His eyes snapped open. Kakashi sprung forward and stood, eyes alert and searching for the threat. Electricity crackled between his fingertips, ready to sink its claws into the assailant's flesh. As his eyes landed on Madara, realization dawned on his expression. Immediately, the raiton chakra bubbling under the surface simmered. Once the electricity dissipated, the half-Hatake rushed to the Clan Head's side. "You need to take it easy," he soothed. He wrapped a steadying arm around the raven's waist and urged the Uchiha to lean against him. "Your energy levels will be low for awhile. The parasite siphoned a lot of your chakra," he elaborated. Kakashi glanced at the doorway. "What you need now is food and rest. It should alleviate the brunt of it," he added.

He directed his gaze toward Madara. "Chakra exhaustion might feel like you're dying—" the half-Hatake huffed wryly. He knew the feeling all too well. "—but with a lot of rest and fluids, your chakra levels will replenish." Hypocritical considering he rarely followed his own advice, but maa, he — for once — wasn't the patient. "I assume you don't want to rest covered in mud. The washroom isn't too far from here," he announced. Kakashi surveyed the soiled office. The floor, including his mother's furs, are caked with dry mud and drenched with rainwater. It would be a nightmare to clean, but maa, his mother wanted a bigger office.

Perhaps, she would finally expand.