Apple-blossom-tea- Indeed. Yay, Madara fluff! ;D
xX-Heady-Revelation-Xx- Why thank you, dear! I'm sure this one will get you dancing, too~
SerbiaTakesCntrl- Love you too. (:
And I used to watch Justice League, all the time!
FroggiePrincess- Oh my. I hope I didn't distract you from anything important! ;D
Yes, Madara is rather over-bearing, isn't he? But that's why we love him!
skytten- Madara, a rapist?
Why, when he could probably eye-shazzam any woman into doing all the work. XD
But indeed, he most certainly is a mind-over-matter kind of person. I could see him killing anybody in cold blood, Sae included, if it was to his benefit.
And that always irks me, when people use non-Japanese names.
Doesn't do it for me, at all. -.-
Enjoy!
Madara returned in the morning, considerable calmer than the state he had been in the night before; walking in on Sae just pulling her shirt over the bandages that covered her chest, he leaned against the doorframe. She flipped the ends of her hair out of the collar of her shirt, the strands nearly three inches longer than when she had last took note. Buckling the stark white belt around her waist, she felt the weight of her katana fall pleasantly into the small of her back.
"Saezuri." Her head jerked to look over her shoulder at Madara, who was reaching up his sleeve. Blinking at the change in address, she curiously watched him pull out a handsome scroll. "This contains an S-class jutsu. I want you to work on learning it." He held it out, dark eyes intense onto her expression.
"Are you sure...?" She hesitantly grabbed the thin scroll, noticing the official stamp of Iwa holding it shut.
"Aa. Its about time you start building your repertoire of jutsu." He whirled his plain black cloak around his shoulders, buckling the clasp with a soft click.
"S-class, though?" She broke the seal, flinching in alarm when the scroll stole a good globule of blood via slitting her finger. Sucking on the stinging appendage, she raised her eyes to Madara's in question.
"Payment for access." He explained simply, almost amused. Saezuri looked back to the scroll, grasping that it was a refined type of concealment jutsu.
"Am I going to be able to use my sword in the competition?" She changed the subject, letting the scroll roll in on itself, tucking it safely into her kunai pouch.
"A katana is a martial artist's weapon." His eyes shone, cunning lurking behind their dark orbs. He moved down the hall, letting Sae do a quick last sweep of the room to make sure they hadn't forgotten anything.
"That's a relief." She quickly caught up to him, pulling her own cloak around her shoulders. The air was turning chill, the Earth Country approaching the winter months. Passing through the reception area, Saezuri was curious to note the way that the attendant flinched, adverting her eyes from Madara. "Come to think of it, when did I fall asleep last night?" Her eyebrows pulled, unable to recall. Normally, she could remember, as she always oriented herself best for making it through the night.
"In the early evening. Don't you remember?" Madara's lips quirked, as he glanced over at her bemusedly. The path was dusty beneath their feet, small puffs of dirt flying at every step; more so for Madara than Sae.
"Not at all." She frowned, thinking. She could remember talking to Reika, and could remember the trek up to the room. But everything after....was just blank.
"You were quite exhausted. It doesn't surprise me you fell asleep so quickly." Madara looked forward, wind ruffling his hair playfully.
"...I don't want to face Reika's son." Saezuri scuffed her shoes, unaware of how his eye twitched slightly.
"You may avoid it completely. The system is single elimination." He kept his voice smooth, keeping the triumphant tone under control; Reika was a problem no more to him.
.....
Sae sighed when they entered the city, it being only marginally smaller than Grass's capital. The clamor of people was not her favorite thing to hear, especially when one child ran across their path play-fighting with another.
"Oof!" The five year old tripped, landing flat at her feet. His playmate kept running, laughing even though the boy started to cry.
"Oh, you're fine." Saezuri crouched, a delicate hand easily catching the boy's wrist and hauling him to his feet. Sniffing, his bottom lip trembled as he stared into Sae's face curiously. "Run along, go." She prodded his shoulder, aware of Madara chuckling at her blunt manner. The child toddled away, glancing back once as she rose to her feet.
"Children really aren't your strong point." A small grin stretched Madara's lips, remembering the son she had frightened when they were on the run from Hidden Grass officials. Saezuri wasn't adept at coddling, he had noted on multiple occasions. She took what she was given, making do without asking for more.
"I rarely see the little creatures." Her tone was candid, eyes raising to Madara's dark orbs. He chuckled, leading the way back through the throng of people; Sae caught his elbow after nearly being separated, frowning at the giggle of a small schoolgirl that noticed.
"That's the arena." Madara nodded towards a large stone building, catching hold of Saezuri's hand instead of her hanging on his elbow. The fight was duly advertised on the side of the building, something Sae gulped at. She hoped, desperately, that she wouldn't be terribly outclassed. Madara kept walking, eventually stopping in front of a small inn.
"This jutsu, will I even be able to use it with the little chakra I have?" Sae pulled out the scroll once they were settled inside their rather spacious room, warily looking at the seal.
"Aa. It takes a comparatively small amount." Madara settled at the desk, flicking back his sleeve and pressing his fingers to a seal drawn there. With a small puff of smoke, several thick scrolls appeared on the desk, which he immediately went to work on, not sparing Saezuri another glance. Settling onto the floor, she flinched when her nails dug under the Iwa stamp, expecting it to lash out against her in payment. The scroll slid open without a hitch however, her hands pleasantly pain free. Reading it over, she caught that it was called Toorima, which sent a small bead of sweat down her temple.
The hand seals were relatively simple, but the instructions for mixing chakra had her head spinning; very vaguely could she remember the theory classes from the academy, and if she was recalling correctly, something this complex was rarely achieved. Working until the room started to darken, Sae fought to remember the string of hand seals, often mucking them up when she tried to practice as fast as they would be needed in battle. During a particularly aggravating run through, she clamped her hands together and huffed, rolling the scroll closed with a snap.
"I'm done. Absolutely." She shoved it into her kunai pouch, unbuckling her belt and letting it fall to the floor with a thud. Madara spared her a glance, before looking out the window at the darkening streets. Stepping over to the bed, Sae stretched enough to feel her vertebrae pop all the up her back, climbing under the thin blanket. He joined her soon enough, after un-summoning the set of scrolls. A comfortable silence descended, and he noted that she wasn't dropping off into sleep as quickly as normal. Madara glanced down curiously when he felt the covers shifting, seeing Saezuri wriggling in close. She huddled against his side, face coloring a very slight pink at his scrutiny.
"It's cold." Her voice was dull, the tickles of her moving chin on his chest amusing Madara. Silently agreeing, he uncoiled his hands from beneath his head, settling a powerful arm around her small shoulders; the thin walls of the inn hardly lessened against the frigid night air. The heightened warmth had her eyelids drooping, and Sae was unaware of the content curl to Madara's lips.
Indeed, he didn't mind this. Not at all.
Sae died a little inside, as she took her place in the ramble of contestants. The majority were men, a choice few even boasting muscles large enough that she looked a delicate twig next to them.
"Such a slim little thing! Be careful, eh?" One of them leaned towards her, a cunning gleam in his eye. She could feel the arrogance he was oozing, her blood throbbing furiously in her veins at that fact.
"Same to yourself, sweetie." Chirping, Sae smiled her best at him, all while she mentally cursed him to hell.
If she was humiliated, she would beat Madara to a bloody pulp, capability be damned.
Hearing her name called, she stepped out into the simple stone platform. Her opponent, Sae could see, was a man of about thirty, shorter by a good five inches and very stocky.
"Start!" The announcer chopped at air, and the crowd cheered a little. The man ran at her, and when he threw his first punch, Saezuri was astonished to see that she could keep up. She could begin to have an inkling where his muscles were coiling, as she slipped her katana out to block a kick. Slashing for his neck, Sae was disappointed to see him fall back, glancing to the mediator.
"Is this fair?!"
"The katana is a martial artist's tool. It's completely legal." The announcer called as Sae fell on her opponent once more, brandishing her blade dangerously. Rolling back, the man caught her chest with a strong foot, effectively knocking the air from her lungs. Skipping back and trying not to gag at the sensation, Saezuri felt her throat close up as she caught Madara's eyes. His arms were crossed as he leaned against a pillar, mouth a grim line. Standing straight, Sae lifted her chin and slipped her hand down her hilt.
"HA!" The man ran forward, jamming his elbow straight for her already bruised chest. Placing a slim hand on his shoulder, she evaded and leaped off the ground, using the hand as a pivot point, as the katana whistled through the air. Deadening her thrust at the last second, she let the cold metal touch the man's neck, in what would have been a killing blow. He rolled away before the match could be called, sweeping a leg out meaning to trip her feet out from under her. Jumping into a back tuck, Sae landed and reversed her grip on her katana, slamming it into the man's forehead as he charged once more. Flinching when she felt his skin break under the harsh bone hilt, she forced her revulsion down and further spun the blade around, using the blunt side of the blade to hack at his ankles and send him to the ground. Settling the tip on his jugular, she glanced up to see Madara had moved, gone from his spot.
"End!" The announcer called, and Sae almost fell over when the man knocked her katana away, glaring. Whirling away, she sheathed her sword, aware of the stares she received as she took her place back among the contestants.
......
It was in the third round that Sae found herself facing a kid, and immediately she knew that this was Reika's son. Cursing her luck, she pulled her katana out, seeing that he wielded one of similar make, the blade being generally heavier and thicker, and not quite as long. The boy shared Reika's short and curvy build, being husky and overconfident.
"Start!" The announcer skipped out of the arena, and the boy wasted no time in charging. His hits were heavy Sae found, but easy to avoid. He had a hard time following her movements, and a frown marred her features when she used her hilt to buckle his knee.
"Quit dancing and fight me!" He howled at her, stunning the crowd into silence.
"I am?" She cocked her head, assuring distance as he struggled back to his feet, knee bruised and already starting to color.
"You are not! Trickery is not an honorable way out!" He bared his teeth, raising his katana in a very traditional two-handed grip. Irritated, Sae flicked her katana down, grabbing it in a reverse grip. Her fuse lit when he spit arrogantly; lighting into a full aerial, Saezuri lashed out, letting her katana whirl out of her grip while she descended from above. The blade caught the boy's calf, splaying red across the stone tiles as she landed on his left shoulder with a heavy boot, easily plowing him to the ground. She snatched her katana from where it lay with a delicate cartwheel, holding the bloodstained blade at ready.
"She cheats!" He howled as he clutched at his leg, alarming Sae as she caught the small trickle of tears coming from his eyes. The announcer waited some four beats before stepping in, calling an end. Sae sheathed her dirty sword, bewildered when the boy lumbered to his feet; he shook and had to lean on his sword, but pointed a finger at her nonetheless.
"Four years of dojo training, and I get to face you, a disgrace! What merit is in a false win?" He sneered, voice wobbling with his tears. Sae's eyes narrowed, her lips firming into a tight line.
"I take it you got expensive lessons? Expecting to be made into an 'all-powerful warrior'? You'd be dead anywhere else, boy." She turned and took her seat, allowing medics to take the boy away. Her blood boiled; such arrogance, self-righteous believed deservance irritated her to no end.
Her next fight was with a man nearly a foot taller, shoulders broad and muscles bulging. He was fast, she found, easily catching her blade on his naked hand and throwing her away, like a ragdoll. She couldn't catch him unawares, and he often was able to deflect her katana with a flat palm. His blows were heavy and almost always directed towards her face; it only took two before Sae was crippling on the ground, covering her head with shaky hands, katana abandoned on the ground.
"Hmph." He lifted her by the scruff of her shirt, a huge fist heading straight for her head, which she desperately tried to just cover with her skinny arms, cowing away.
Thud.
Her eyes opened hesitantly when she heard contact but felt no pain, her dark orbs flying wide when she beheld the back of Madara's head.
"The fight is clear." His tone was dark, as he squeezed the hand captured around her opponent's fist. Madara's other arm arm came around, knocking the man's hold off Sae's shirt, sending her dropping to the ground, legs too weak to support her. With a swift kick he was sent flying away, Madara offering a smooth hand to her. Saezuri's face throbbed unbearably as she laid her hand in his, squeaking in surprise when he hauled on her arm hard enough to bring her completely off the ground, Madara slinging her over his shoulder effortlessly. She clutched at his shirt when he stooped to snatch her blade, a chakra enhanced leap sending them to the top of the arena's walls.
"Dazai Saezuri is fully disqualified." His voice was loud and commanding as he addressed the stunned stadium, disappearing from view as he leapt to the street below. Sae refrained from groaning, the shocks increasing her pain. Her eyes clenched as she felt Madara leaping, the solid jar increasing the throb her head was developing quickly. It was all over quickly enough, however, when she soon was set on the bed in their inn room. She twitched when Madara sheathed her clean blade, the jar on her spine making her wince. A deep rumble came from Madara's chest as he tilted her chin up, his eyes narrowing once he got a good look. The skin on Sae's cheekbone was split and discolored, and her lip was puffy and bleeding from where her teeth had cut into it from being hit with such force.
"Is it bad?" Her voice was breezy as he patched her cheek, flinching when he placed pressure to get the bandage to stick.
"Aa." He replied simply, running his thumb over the velvety skin of her lip. She blinked, eyes downcast. "I see Kisame trained you well." He swiped back a tendril of hair that stuck in the blood on her mouth, contemplative.
"I lost, though." Her voice was bewildered, eyes widening when Madara pulled his hand back to grab something out of his pouch, fingers coated in blood.
"To a worthy opponent." He pressed at her lip with a cloth, cleaning the blood.
"He was cruel." She jerked out of his grasp, crossing her arms. Madara smoothed back, ridding himself of the blood-stained cloth.
"Perhaps." He got in her face again, surveying the work he had done. A small trickle of blood oozed from her lip, and Saezuri's eyes flew wide when Madara licked it away, the sensation causing nerves to break out in fire across her face. He chuckled when he pulled back, Sae's dumbfounded expression amusing him to no end.
Thoughts? I'll give you hugs and kisses! (:
