Alright, so. First story published. Be gentle and tell me what you think?
Constructive criticism would be nice.
Madara sighed and reclined more deeply into the musty, faded red cushions, smoke swirling in a seductive manner around his face. He watched men filter in and be fawned over in the most blatant way by the ladies employed by this brothel. He sipped delicately at a cup of sake, musing. Things were going remarkably well, all matters considered. He had his brat descendant firmly under his thumb, a growing rank of S-classes, and he had just found the gem that was 'Pein'.
"Sir, is there anything else I can get you?" The manager of the establishment approached him, words heavily with implications. Had they no tact? However, much as he found it tawdry, he far preferred the quiet atmosphere here, to get drunk in, than a bar.
"Unfortunately not." He murmured, cutting his eyes to her face. The woman's features, softened after forty or so years of living, tightened in an displeased way, but she complied and moved to the man just down the way; a wrinkled old affair that showed much more interest than Madara. A young, fauxly cheerful woman caught his attention, as she wheedled and pulled at a man's hand towards the upper rooms, where the real 'business' was conducted. And from there his eyes wandered, contemplating each woman's approach. One woman was rough and very masculine in her attentions; another soft and demure, hoping to lure in the man attracted to virginity; and there were still others, from blatantly tacky, to just looking plain disinterested. Madara noted that his sake was dwindling, and motioned for another bottle. An innocent looking youth caught his signal, and approached on soft feet, a full sake bottle in hand. How quiet she walked had his eyes slimming, and when he cared to look further, the way her hips and shoulders moved that just spoke of efficiency had him seizing her wrist as she set the bottle on the table in front of him.
"Sir?!" Alarmed, her voice tripped on high notes, even as he pulled her in closer to speak in her ear.
"Trained kunoichi normally don't work in brothels." He noted the tight-lipped manager staring at him, and let go of the girl's wrist. She pulled back immediately, dark eyes large. She blinked once and her hands fluttered over her chest, clasping at each other.
"How did you know?" Madara eased back, observing the weak way she stood: feet too close together, spine having the wrong arch and her obvious nervous habits. His brow cocked; maybe she wasn't all that skilled as her trapsy to his table had indicated.
"I'm powerful myself, my dear." He answered her question, pouring himself a fresh cup of sake. She settled on her knees across the coffee table from him, procuring herself a cup after asking with a glance. Madara shrugged, and she tipped a light amount into the dish.
"I never made it through." She murmured, taking a very delicate sip, mouth tightening at the strong taste.
"Oh?"
"I-"
"Ohooooooo, Saezuri-chaaaaan, you finally have a customer~!" A hopelessly drunk courtesan slung her arm around Sae's shoulders, who stiffened at the contact. "And you, mister, better treat her well." The woman slurred, wagging her finger in Madara's face, which was becoming more contemptuous by the second.
"How much did you have to drink, Narue?" Saezuri asked, her eyes sharp and eyebrows drawn as she plucked the woman's arm from around her shoulders.
"Saaaeeeee-chan, don't be mean!" Narue giggled, leaning forward into Sae's face. "Just because you're Fue-san's favorite, doesn't mean you're boss!" Saezuri frowned, struggling not to cough from Narue's heavy breath wafting in her face. The drunk woman's attention abruptly switched to the table, and, spotting the bottle of sake, she immediately began cooing cheerfully and reaching for it.
"Not," Madara's hand shot out, clasping Narue's wrist with a very tight grip, "While this is still mine." His lips had curled, sharingan starting to bleed into his eyes. Narue dawdled for a minute, before passing out cold. Saezuri watched her slump to the coffee table, before rolling her off and onto the ground as an afterthought.
"What did you do?" She then calmly asked, raising her eyes to Madara's as she took another tiny sip of her sake. He found it strange that she first made the happenings look natural before questioning.
"Speeding up the inevitable." He snorted, closely studying the woman across from him with his sharingan. He could detect no jutsu, or even deception in her eyes as she glanced back down at Narue. So she really was just an academy-trained failure. Madara let his sharingan fade, not caring when Sae watched and cocked her head minutely to the side. Tactfully, she made no comment, instead swirling the sake in her dish.
"What village did you come from?" Madara prodded, still curious. Sae grimaced at the question, but still answered dutifully.
"Iwa." That certainly explained the ash blonde hair that shined dimly from her scalp, twisted back into a simple twist. Iwa, for the most part, was dominated by blonds. "My mother took me away before I could take the genin exam; she then repaid me by dying of tuberculosis not a year after."
"Hence this brothel?" Madara raised a brow, his mind working in circles. Zetsu was sorely needed for spy work, and it was easier to travel in a pair....
"Would any other place take in a starving thirteen year old, no questions asked, if only she clean?" Sae's voice was delicately amused, light dancing behind her dark eyes.
"I could spirit you away, you know." He leaned in, pitching his voice low to further avoid the manager's attention, "I have a cause, if you're willing to work." And how easy would it be, to build on her latent skills? And the public's attention would not focus on a simple man and woman traveling, as he was sure she could pose as the demure wife of a fisherman in a pinch. Or similarly, a banker. Or a scholar. It all depended on his mood, what he posed as, and all she had to follow with was simple obedience, a shy way with loyalty and people would not ask questions.
"A cause." Sae murmured, leaning further in until their noses were a mere foot apart, "What kind of cause is this?" She whispered, aware from the chill creeping up her spine that Fue-san was watching her. Which was understandable; what business did a simple maid have with a customer?
"I plan to own this world." Madara smoothed, leaning back into his seat cushions.
"Saezuri, what in the world happened to Narue?" Fue's sharp voice startled the young woman, causing her to fumble and pull back sharply from leaning over the table, before she could ask Madara anything further.
"She drank too much." Sae informed, not looking her manager in the eye, instead picking at the hem of her simple servant's kimono.
"Don't just leave her out in plain sight! Up! Get up, take her upstairs." The manager bullied her, before giving a sharp look to Madara, "And I'll thank you not to distract my working staff!" Waspish, the older woman curled her lips, before sweeping away into the back room, where banging of pans were heard.
"I-" Sae opened her mouth to apologize, but Madara merely responded with a small, amused grin that seemed out of place on his dark features.
"Oh, I'll wait." He took a sip of sake, and when another loud crash of pans from the backroom resounded, Sae startled and bundled up Narue's collapsed form as best she could. Resulting in hooking her arms around the shorter, more buxom woman's abdomen, and heaving her across the room with a red face at the catcalls patrons were giving her. Madara had to chuckle at the difficulty which she dragged Narue up the stairs, waddling backwards while trying to lift under the woman's armpits.
For the next two hours, Fue kept Saezuri scurrying around, whether it be with large tasks such as playing a shamisen to entertain the few patrons waiting their turn or just lounging like Madara, to menial tasks like tending the fire in the kitchen or cleaning the windows. And throughout it all, Madara patiently reclined in his cushions, drinking at sake and observing.
"Finish up! Finish up, everyone." Fue piped, some men grumbling and others merely bleary eyed and hopelessly drunk. Sae, on the way by carrying a tub full of water, caught Madara's eye and gave a definitive nod. He let a smirk curl at his lips, and downed the rest of his final sake bottle as she shuffled into the kitchen area. Leaving enough yen to cover his four consumed bottles, he left and leaned against the door frame outside the building. Many of the late walkers on the street cast him glances, some full of contempt and others curious. For a full ten minutes he waited, and was rewarded when Sae came creeping around the side of the building, presumably from a back entrance, wearing a simple shirt dress and carrying a pack.
"Uchiha Madara." He shook her hand, and she let out a flushed smile.
"Dazai Saezuri." She inclined her head, trotting after him to keep up with his long legs.
"Well, Dazai-kun, our first stop will be around to the grass country." Madara glanced over to her, seeing her nod, and picked up his pace. Sae had to practically jog to keep up with him, and he'd push at her and push at her, building endurance once more.
She didn't know it, but she was in for the most grueling training session he had ever given anyone.
