So... this happened. Somehow. I'm not entirely sure why. But I had to write it and so you have this. Sixteen year old Cat vs. Uchiha Madara. Enjoy.
My mouth watered as I beheld the ultimate prize sitting on the kitchen island. Thank you for leaving it out for me, I silently thanked my mother, going down the stairs as fast as I could without knocking my glasses off the top of my head. "Brie~!" I sang out as I jumped off the last couple steps in a ballerina pose.
An imposing figure stepped out from the library. Yelping in surprise, I skidded to a stop, slipped, and made tailbone-tile contact.
"Once… I recover from this mortal wound," I said in a high voice, writhing with my hands on the sore point, "I will ask you why the frickle frackle you are in my house!"
I had never seen someone look more confused. "Frickle… frackle?"
"Yeah!" Holy crap nuggets, was he wearing armor?! What kind of dork did that in this heat?! I staggered to my feet and viciously pointed at him. "And I swear to the moon and back, if you've hurt my dogs, I will end you! I may be a cat person, but Tuppins and Thor are good doggos!"
"What?" His confusion was almost funny, but I had some crazy homeless person in the house, and I wasn't about to let him pull anything. "You, a tiny civilian woman, harm me?"
"Oh, I'm so sorry, your majesty," I said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I didn't mean to offend your sorry short butt."
"Short?!'
"You're like, what, five foot ten? You're short." He sputtered incoherently as I opened cabinets in search of crackers. Ok, insulting the crazy guy in your home probably wasn't the best idea. I wonder if I could make it upstairs before he got me. Dagnabbit, why had I left my phone at the computer desk?!
It was funny, he kind of looked like Madara. But that was silly, there wasn't a con around here for months.
"You, girl, are barely one hundred and sixty five centimeters! You are far shorter!" He honestly seemed pissed off now. Putting aside the fact that I couldn't mentally convert centimeters to inches, I straightened.
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave," I finally said. "I apologize for my previous rudeness, but this is private property and you need to leave. Nice cosplay, though." He stared at me in confusion. "You know, cosplay? Dressing up as a character? I was saying you had a nice Madara cosplay."
"I am Madara, woman. Are you saying that I have impersonators out there?" … He wasn't serious, was he? Oh, for the love of - he really was.
"You know what, you really should leave now," I laughed nervously.
"Tell me," he growled, eyes turning red. My eyes widened.
"Whoa… Man, nice Sharingan? What brand are they? How did you do that? Is it some sort of button?"
"What… brand?! Woman, tell me what you know!"
"Well… Dang it, I don't remember the quote, otherwise I totally would have thrown The Goonies at you." I finger gunned him and began to scoop out the precious brie onto a cracker.
He glared at me with his spinning Sharingan. Man, those were good. I wanted a set, but with my luck, they would be like two hundred bucks. His stern look faltered.
"How… why is my genjutsu not working on you?"
"You really do think you're Uchiha Madara, don't you?" I asked, giving him a look.
"I am Uchiha Ma- is that buri?" The change of subject made me freeze.
"Um… yeah?" His eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Give it to me."
"What? No! It's mine! You can't just walk in here and demand a girl's cheese!"
"You can stand to lose a few kilos anyway. Now, give it to me!" I gaped at him. He did not just say that. The obvious response was to slap him, so I did.
It was his turn to gape at me. "Here's some words of advice, 'Madara'," I growled. "Never ever say that a girl should lose weight, and you might actually live longer." He growled deep in his throat and slashed down with his fan-sword thing. I yelped as it missed me by inches.
I was not his target. The island was.
"You… You…" I stammered, at a lost for words. He smirked, sure in his victory. "You destroyed the island! Do you have any idea how much trouble I'm going to be in when my parents get home?! We rent the place, we don't own it!"
"Give me the buri, and nothing else need be destroyed," he snapped, making a grab for the cheese. I dropped to the ground, successfully avoiding him. Unfortunately, he was now above me and I was on the floor. "Give it to me. Now." Well, it's worth a shot.
"Holy crap, it's Hashirama!" I shouted, pointing behind him. Unbelievably, it worked.
"Where?!" he demanded, spinning around. Did I take advantage of his distraction? Heck yeah!
I scrambled up the stairs as fast as I could. Frick, why am I so out of shape? Right, I hate moving and love cake too much.
"Why you -" I heard behind me, and then something grabbed my leg and tripped me.
"Frick," I swore, kicking behind me. "Screw you! Get out of my house!" He hauled himself forward and stabbed the stairs with his kama. I stared at the razor sharp blade with horror. "Oh my gosh, the carpet! Do you know how hard that's going to be to fix, you psychopath?!" I kicked again and heard a crunching sound. Frick, was that his nose? Oh frick frick frick.
I ran the rest of the way up the stairs and slammed my parents' door behind me before hiding in the closet. Uchiha Madara is in my house. He is wrecking my house. And I'm home alone, I don't have my phone, oh frick oh frick oh frick I just broke the nose of the most powerful shinobi alive! Why is he in my house? How did he get out of the manga?!
I heard a cracking sound as he kicked down the door. "Girl, my patience grows thin. Give. It. To. Me."
He ripped the closet door off its hinges. Madara was pissed as heck now. I clutched the brie closer to my chest.
"Actually, you know what," I said, voice barely shaking. Then I gave him the finger. Holy crap, did I seriously just give someone the finger? Oh frick, my parents are going to be so pissed off. "The cheese," I snapped, really pissed now, because this was going to cost so much money to fix. "Is mine!" I punctuated it with a good kick between the legs.
You would think that 'the Second Six Paths' would be able to dodge something like that.
Jumping over his writhing form, I ran out, grabbed my phone off the computer desk, wrenching open the window near it, kicked the screen out, and jumped into the pool. I surfaced, sputtering, and checked my phone.
Somehow still working. I frantically tapped out my passcode and pulled up the keypad, dialing 9-1-1.
"Nine one one, what's your emergency?"
"There's-" I panted, trying to swim to the side. "There's an anime character - Uchiha Madara, from Naruto, he's trying to take my brie and he's wrecking my house!" I stifled a sob. This was ridiculous and awful and I wanted it to be over and just let me wake up already. "There's an anime character trying to take my cheese!"
I was awarded with stunned silence for a couple seconds. "Ma'am, please do not call nine one one with intentions to prank; it takes time away from actual emergencies."
"It's not -" I protested, but he had already hung up. Then my parents' bedroom exploded. Is that… Susanoo?
"Give. Me. The. Buri," he snarled from the jutsu. I whimpered a little. Well, frick.
The air by Madara's head seemed to twist and then a - head? - popped out. "Madara-sama," a dark haired teen about twice my age said. "It appears you arrived in the wrong dimension and… ruined a civilian's home."
"She won't give me the -"
"It's mine!" I shouted back. Obito looked at me, then Madara, then back at me.
"Madara, I'll… I'll get you some cheese when we enact the Eye of the Moon Plan. In the meantime, let's go!" Madara leveled one final glare at me before deactivating Susanoo and grabbing Obito's arm.
"Let's leave this place," he sniffed. And they both vanished.
I clung to the edge of the pool, staring at where they both left.
My parents are going to kill me.
Mom pinched her the bridge of her nose as I shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "We leave you alone for two hours, and this is what happens?"
"It really was Madara!" I insisted, hurt but also agreeing that they didn't believe me. "He wanted the brie!"
"And it never occurred to you to just… give him the brie?"
"But it's mine!"
"We can buy more!" I gaped. That… did not occur to me. "For the love of…"
"..."
"..."
"... at least I saved the brie."
Edit 9/16/17: Me saying that Madara is short... Well, I'm five foot six and I grew up with a five seven mother and a six four dad. Madara is short by my standards.
