Timing
By TwinEnigma
Characters: Mikoto, Fugaku, and Madara Uchiha
Warnings: AU, language
The Uchiha knew Madara had not died. They knew he waited, seething in rage beyond the borders of life, a thing both not alive and not dead. He was their shame, their dark secret, a monster waiting in the wings to devour them. This was something all Uchiha knew – they could sense his rage and desire for vengeance keenly. It was only a matter of time before he found a means by which to exact that vengeance.
The wait was maddening, Mikoto decided, her hands clawing the futon as the dull contractions of the first stage of labor continued.
Ever since she'd given birth to Itachi, she'd known Madara was very close by. She'd felt that slimy chakra and its festering malice lingering on the borders of the clan compound, trying to sneak in, and she'd known then that whatever he had cooked up for them was coming to fruition soon. She knew it like she knew the sky was blue and grass was green. Even so, she tried to carry on and live a good life with her husband and her son, ignoring that lingering sense of doom on the edge of her consciousness. She'd managed to succeed for a time, but as her second pregnancy progressed, that sense of doom also grew until it, too, was impossible to ignore.
So, she waited, watching for the monster's presence as the months drew on with shrewd, hawkish eyes.
The only problem was that Madara hadn't done anything yet.
'Yet' – now, there was the one word that turned all her thoughts on end and made her stomach churn with anxiety.
Her husband said she was just being paranoid and that she should stop worrying, lest she hurt the baby. But those were empty words – he knew just as well as she did what kind of monster Madara Uchiha was. Only a monster would be capable of such a bitter hatred that could transcend death.
Still, why hadn't he attacked yet?
What on earth was he waiting for – a sign?
It was better if the scheming old ghost just did something. The waiting was threatening to drive her mad.
She moaned, rolling onto her back as the contractions hit again. It was too hot and her clothes stuck to her pregnant body like a second skin in the stifling humidity. She longed for rain and sleep, but they were evasive and she was left only with paranoia, the sporadic flare of contractions and the lingering malice of Madara.
In the distance, dry lightning crackled across the horizon, but the wind chime in the window showed no evidence the storm bore any relief from the oppressive heat.
Mikoto moaned in displeasure and irritation. She hated this feeling, this sticky heat and the way it seemed to heighten the presence of that malignant spirit. She could imagine him slithering in the cracks and over thresholds, worming his way inside their compound like some sort of creeping vine and strangling the very life from the descendants of all those who had wronged him.
What if that monster was drawing close because of her children?
She hissed sharply, eyes rolling madly as she twisted her hands on the futon. She would not allow it. He would never have them. They belonged to her, to the future of the Uchiha and to Konoha itself. She would not allow him to take them and twist them into his corrupted image.
The contractions were stronger now and she could see the skies darkening with the storm, the horizon now the color of muted flame. A rumbling roar of thunder split through the silent evening and the malignant presence seemed to vanish, as though suddenly exhausted.
Mikoto sat up, eyes wide and darting as she searched in vain for traces of the clan's ghost. He couldn't have just disappeared.
Perhaps, if she had been anyone else, it might have been a relief for such a terrible presence to suddenly vanish, but Mikoto was an Uchiha and they had a bit of an unusual outlook on the situation. As long as they could sense Madara and his anger, they knew that all his attention was focused on plotting the downfall of their clan and not on actually doing something to cause it.
So, faced with the sudden absence of his presence, Mikoto was overcome with a sense of incredible dread. She knew the ghost had done something terrible, knew it deep down to her bones, and the sheer volume of dreadful things he could have done which would make his presence virtually disappear threatened to make her lose what little dinner she'd managed to have. And, as much as she'd known he was up to something and she'd expected him to act at any time, she'd hoped she would at least get the chance to see her second child born before his revenge took place.
Thunder roared again.
Mikoto stared out the window, her thoughts drifting around in anxious circles as the contractions grew closer together. What had the old monster done and why did he choose to do it now?
An ANBU streaked past the window as the horizon turned a violent red and another thundering roar pierced the night, closer now.
Oh no.
A siren began to wail in the distance as the red light on the horizon grew brighter.
No, this couldn't be!
Fugaku threw the door to their room open, his face white. Behind him, his lieutenant in the police force was holding a frightened and confused Itachi. "Mikoto!" he said, rushing to her side, "The Kyuubi was spotted heading this way. We're evacuating you and Itachi."
She shook her head in disbelief, moaning. No, not now!
"Shit," Fugaku muttered, looking down at the clear fluid rapidly spreading on the futon. He turned to his lieutenant and shouted, "Get Itachi to the shelters! I'm heading to the hospital!"
Mikoto burst into tears.
The baby was coming.
The Kyuubi had been summoned.
It was all going to be over soon.
AN: Oh fu-
Originally posted as part of my now toast Variables fic, this one was actually one of the ones that eventually inspired me to do Alternate Hosting. So... you can consider this is from the same verse as Tail Five in that fic.
Things went... badly in that verse.