Well, I'd like to wish everyone a Merry Christmas or a Happy Holidays! Which ever you prefer. I'd also liek to give an early Happy New Years, because I doubt I'll have a Chapter 13 out before then.

I'd like to thank all of those who had favorited and followed this story and all of those who have reviewed! Thank you so much!

Now, enjoy Chapter 12!

OoO

All that night, Anju had stayed awake, working with what the keeper had sent her. Much to her disappointment, nothing she was sent had much to do with the object, and what she assumed would help her was undecipherable. There was no doubt in her mind it was much like the stone tablet at Naka Shrine. If that were the case, she was screwed. How were scrolls she could not decipher any help to her?

To make things worse for her new anxiety and paranoia that came with not being able to defend herself, Izuna had not returned last night when he said he would. She didn't even feel his chakra come near her home, but she felt him within the boundaries of the clan. She knew she had no reason to worry and that he would be fine, and that he could handle himself well, but that didn't stop her. Without anything in her arsenal to help protect the clan in any way now, she felt alone and useless. She couldn't even walk down the hall without running out of breath.

How was she to keep the respect the clan had for her now that she was useless? All of that hard work she had put into making them believe in her, was gone. The clan wouldn't respect her anymore. She was nothing more than housewife now. She saw how they got treated. At this point she'd rather die than be sitting around miserable. The only thing kept her from doing so was the thought of her little brother.

Sure she had Eiko and Hakuoh, but Eiko was more focused on her husband and child than she was her own sister. Then there was Hakuoh who couldn't keep her hands off of one man. That woman needed a kick in the ass. Unfortunately, Anju could not give that to her now. Hisen was the only one Anju ever spent any time with. She trained him until he could defend himself and inflict severe damage, and she became his mother after theirs passed away. He still needed her and last night confirmed it. If Izuna and Madara thought they would be able to train Hisen, they were wrong. He needed a kinder environment to learn, and she knew how the brothers trained. It was not kind.

What could she do? Nothing, or at least, not in here. She had been waiting for the storm outside to rest, and finally it had. That's exactly what she needed. She needed to see her father's and Aito's grave, to see the evidence for herself and pay her respects. It had been such a long time since she had gone to the Uchiha graveyard to visit any of the deceased, including her mother. Maybe now was a good time to start into the habit again.

Lucky for her, there were still yukata's in her old room that fit her. She needed something simple to get into, and, since she could no longer be considered a shinobi, she could not wear the clothes of a shinobi. No more of those long shirts with high collars, or dark pants bandaged at the ankles. Yukata's would be her source of clothing, though she had only worn them a handful of times in her life. Not many were in her draws, but she managed to find a plain black one and took her time dressing herself and tying a matching obi around her waist. It was quite comfortable and the large sleeves were soft and roomy.

"Hmmm..." Although it was more comfortable in a material sense, it was not so in a personal sense. She felt uncomfortable in such an item. Her wardrobe was pants and shirts, not yukata's and cute little bows that the common Uchiha woman wore. She wore the clothes of a housewife or a maid, and she did not like it, no matter how soft and roomy the clothing was. It felt wrong.

She had no choice though. There was nothing else for her to wear and this was easy to slip on and off, and she needed that for her arm. Minimal movement was best, but it was still in pain. The fast healing process she had been so accustomed to was gone as well, and she was really feeling it.

"Ken, Ren – outside."

The eagles immediately woke to their name and flapped their wings. Anju pulled back the sleeve of her yukata and strapped leather around her right forearm. Only one could be carried if they so wished, but she knew both loved to fly and the birds knew she was in pain. They would most likely to watch her from above, but it didn't hurt be prepared.

As she walked out of her room and into the hallway that contained the rooms of her siblings – when they lived here. To the left was a way outside and the right was an entrance to the rest of the home. She wanted outside. Unfortunately, the moment she reached the end of the hallway, the burning her lungs was quite unbearable and she found it hard to stand. She wasn't leaving the estate without help.

After resting for a few minutes, she returned to her room, and, with reluctance, picked up the staff that was her height in length and used it as her support system. This time around though, it did not burn her hands. It was just a cold, inanimate object that was oddly dirty and beautifully shaped by an obviously expert craftsman. If only this black gunk would come off.

By the time she reached the entrance to her father's estate, she was completely out of breath and dizzy for the same reason. It was, however, not as bad as she thought it would be. And neither was the weather. She loved the smell of rain and the feel of an approaching storm. It had to be the first time she had smiled, even slightly, since she woke. It was so nice to feel the cool air on her skin and to inhale the aroma of a fresh rain that seemed to ease the burning in her chest.

On her own, she walked the slick and muddy roads weaving through the stronghold until she gave to the burial grounds. This was the longest she had walked and she was feeling it. Her vision was blurry, her head spun, and she was becoming short of breath. She was almost there. She couldn't give up when she was this close. She walked through rows, some freshly filled while others were covered with grass. Her memory was not fuzzy when it came to who was buried where, and there were a lot of graves. Too many to count. Not to long after, she was able to read the names of her mother, father, and brother. A heavy feeling of grief came over her a d she collapsed onto her knees in front of their graves. It was a great relief to her body and to her soul in a physical sense, but the sadness and sorrow that overcame her replaced it.

Her eyes became watery as she looked at the freshly filled graves. "Nii-san…Otōsan…" Her chest tightened but she refused to let herself cry. People died every day, was this not any different? Maybe it was because the only person her family had ever lost had been their mother. She was not familiar with loss, and she yet she found the tears dripping down her face in silence, joining the rain as it picked up.

"Why? Why did this happen to you, Otōsan? Why did Aito have to die? Why did I have to lose all I've fought so hard for?" Her hands balled into fists on her lap, "I don't know what to do, Otōsan. I don't know how to deal with not being a ninja. I don't know how to deal with death."

Never had she lost someone other than her mother. Others in the Uchiha had lost sons, daughters, wives, and husbands, like Izuna and Madara. First it had been Arata, who died protecting his twin brothers, Ryota and Kenta. And in the same battle, the twins lost their lives. One died on the battlefield and the other died on the way home from his injuries. They lost three siblings in one night, and Tajima three of his sons. But she… she had never lost anyone until she was an adult. She was not equipped to deal with this and did not know how. How did one just go on living without a father or brother?

She uncurled her hands and wiped the rain from her face. Her face visibly paled as she noticed the blood running down her hands. She had clenched her hands into fists so tightly that her nails had cut her skin. How could she not have noticed that? Still, she did not feel need to get up, no matter how cold and wet she was. It wasn't just because of her emotions that she could not raise herself, but her body was incapable of standing on its on two legs, and the deeper the breaths she took, the more agony she put her lungs in.

Seeing as she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, she kept thinking. If she had been more careful, would this have been avoided? How did Izuna deal with this all so well? Despite how much she cared and loved him, she found herself wanting to push him away and to leave her alone to waste in her self-pity and self-loathing. She understood that he loved her and that he would be there for her no matter what, but at what cost?

The gods knew she wanted him by her side, but a part of her – this dark, grieving part of her – wanted him to stay away and let her rot. She couldn't fight it even though she tried. Though she had only been awake for merely two days, since the moment Izuna left, she could not escape this dark, sad place came over her, especially now. It made sure to let her know not all would be alright again.

Absorbed in herself, she did not notice anyone else come into the burial grounds. "You're going to get sick out here, woman." She looked to the side, but did not need to see them to know who the deep, baritone voice belonged to. "Come here to gloat? Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I'm not playing your games today, so go bark up someone else's tree." She felt his cloak touch her as the wind blew it in her direction. Did he have to stand so close? She was in no mood for his cruel words.

Madara was taken back by the tone of her voice. There was no emotion there. Not one. Were things worse than what Izuna had cared to say? "Why would I gloat about death? There is nothing fun in such a thing."

She snapped at him. "You know very well what I mean! Now leave me be!" Couldn't she just grieve in peace and be left out in the cold? So what if she died? At least she wouldn't have to live the life of a housewife!

But it seemed Madara would not let her be today, not that she could fight him anyways. There was no point in it. If she tried, she'd only tire herself out more and fuel his amusement. He walked into her peripheral vision and crouched down to her level, taking her left hand in his, letting the rain wash away the blood. She did not watch him much longer. What was the point in watching someone she didn't want to be around and couldn't read. He was emotionless, with his only feelings – if any – being towards Izuna. And Aito wanted her to apologize to him? Bullshit.

"Did you do this?" She felt no reason to answer him. "Uchiha Anju – did you do this to yourself?" Still she remained silent, stewing in her anger and grief. Could he just leave her be?

Two fingers gripped her chin and she found herself having to look into his onyx eyes that were cold as always. She was shocked by the firm yet gentle grip he held on her and the stern gaze that was thrown upon her. "Answer me right now. Did you do this to yourself?"

After a moment of silence, she averted her gaze. "Not intentionally." His eyes bore into her being. She was telling the truth and she knew he could sense it. What reason had she to lie? If it was one thing, she was not a liar. She was a straight forward person… most of the time.

"You need this looked at. Now I'll give you the option of letting me help you up, willing that is, or you can be a brat and make me take you by force." Her eyes wandered back to his, a chill running down her spine at his words that promised to do exactly as he said.

There was something else in those usually cold orbs of black, and couldn't just be her eyes deceiving her. What was it? Emotions, even ones as small as this, were so strange on him. They were alien and made her uncomfortable. It was as if his eyes didn't know that they were showing such a thing.

"Okay." The word slipped from her lips, like his eyes had drawn it out of her. However, she didn't make much of an effort to help him other than to grab her staff, which he also took. "Have you tried cleaning it up?" She didn't speak to him in any way, shape, or form. Why should she have to? He had made her entire existence miserable, or tried to at least.

It seemed he didn't really care, for he didn't pester her further about it. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her waist and placed hers around his shoulders. The height difference between them made such a position uncomfortable, but who was she to complain? He'd just drag her off anyways.

At first she thought he meant to take her to the infirmary, but she was mistaken. They went in the opposite direction, towards her father's old home, and once again they turned differently, heading in the direction of Madara's home. "Why are we going there?"

"Izuna is looking for you, that's why. Any other questions?" And he was back to himself in no time. Cold eyes with on a stoic, sharp face that gave nothing away. She expected no less.

Still, she remained in the depths of her mind, and an ugly truth occurred to her. Madara was right. All those times he said she was weak and worthless, he was right. She couldn't even walk to bid her farewells to her father and brother without collapsing, and even now, as he assisted her in walking, she was having trouble getting enough oxygen into her lungs. She was weak, and once word got out that she would no longer be considered a shinobi, she would be worthless.

A loud sigh sounded from Madara, his head lowered. "You know, your thoughts are rather depressing and false."

His words angered her immediately. "Stay out of my head!"

Red eyes met hers, reading her every grieving and angry thought in the matter of seconds. He did not like what he had seen, but stayed quiet until they arrived to the main wing of the house. A maid took his cloak and her own, presumably taking them to get dried and washed, and before she left, assisted Anju in removing her shoes, even though she protested. It seemed Madara held an iron fist over the servants of his home. Why wasn't she surprised? At least he was letting her walk on her own now, sort of. She was having trouble with her vision from lack of air. Would this ever go away?

She did make it to the dining hall, though she trailed behind by a few minutes. The cushions around the low table beckoned for her and she did not protest that. They were very soft, but were soaked in the matter of minutes from herself.

"Here." Madara set a white cup in front of her and brought out a tray with dango and what looked to be freshly prepared sushi. The smell was absolutely amazing and was enough to bring her out of the dark place in her mind. But, when she reached out for the food, Madara caught her hand and turned it over so her palm was facing up. "What the hell? Would you just leave me alone?"

She tried to tug away from him, but he held her arm firmly in place as he washed the dried blood off her palms with a gentleness she did not know any man could possess. For the next couple minutes, she sat there in complete shock, not knowing what to say or do.

When he finished with both hands, he rubbed a yellowish substance into the wounds, making her flinch. It stung. He looked up at her. "Don't want them getting infected, do you?" She looked away from his eyes. They glowed red with the sharingan, letting her know no thoughts were safe. There was no need for speaking if he would just read what was on her mind.

It seemed he heard that, for his eyes returned to the color of coal, dark and cold. "Why are you helping me?"

Madara's gaze left her palms as he dressed them and searched her face. That was a very good question. Why was he helping her? Obviously she had heard nothing he had said during her comatose state, which he was quite thankful for. How weak he had been to let this woman get the better of him before! But, thinking of her previous state, his gaze softened upon her. Why was he helping her?

He could have easily left her in the burial grounds to freeze and possibly get pneumonia, but something stopped him. When he saw her in the distance, sitting on her knees wrecked with grief at the loss of her brother and father, and the loss of her abilities, something inside of him snapped.

Carefully, he tucked the remainder of the bandages underneath her already wrapped hands. "Izuna loves you to death. When you were dying, he was a wreck. If he were to find out I left you out in the cold and rain, he would never forgive me." And that was the truth. Izuna would never forgive him for leaving Anju to die. It didn't matter if they were brothers or not. Madara knew Izuna would not forgive him. Anju was a whole other battle – one he would not win.

She looked away and picked up a piece of the sushi the servants had prepared for dinner, plopping it into her mouth. She appeared deep in thought, and then, she began shaking and her teeth chattered from the cold. He forgot she was soaked. Although the house was warm, she was recovering and in wet clothes. It was not a good combination.

With a sigh, he held his hands out to her. "Here, give me your hands." She pulled away from him and he narrowed his eyes. "Fine, I'll do it my way." He grabbed her hands and held them between his. She struggled for a moment, until Madara's hands heated up. Her shivering dwindled as he moved his hands over her yukata, causing it to steam and sizzle as the heat of his hands countered the cold water and made it evaporate. "Better?"

She glanced at him and took a sip of the tea he had prepared. "Hai." The fact she answered him was an improvement. As he moved his hands down her back, he could feel her bones. She had lost so much weight. It sickened him. And then, he felt her power. Her chakra was there, but he could feel what Elder Yuuna had felt – something blocked it. And he felt the rest of it. That poison had done a number on her body.

"Why?" He stopped, meeting her empty eyes. "Why are you helping me? Really?"

Madara removed his hands, but Anju grabbed them, much to his surprise. "You can keep going." A smirk tugged his lips upwards as he placed his hands on her shoulder, gently massaging her body. Even after almost ten minutes of this, she was still freezing. "Are you going to answer me? Or are you just going to be a pain in the ass?"

A smile tugged at Madara's lips and chuckle followed. "There's the Anju I know, but I wouldn't speak to your new clan head in such a manner." Anju's body froze under his hands. "You were appointed clan head? When?"

"Last night, after Izuna left you. Next to me, he is also a new head. It is the first time there have been two." After he spoke, he went back to warming her up. She was getting better.

"So that's why he didn't come back…" He felt the warmth he had got her in to disappear and her shoulders slumped. That warmth became replaced with something much gloomier. "Hai. We had to discuss things with Otōsan." His hands rested on her lower back for a moment. Then, he closed his eyes before moving his hands back up. "At least you've gotten your wish now. I suppose that's my present to you, not being a shinobi anymore."

He stopped once again. Did she really think he hated her that much? Had he really been that harsh on her? "What have I done to make you think I hate you that much?"

"Have you forgotten the countless times you put me in 'my rightful place', the ground? The countless times you've injured me purposely to teach be a lesson? Or what about the countless put downs and harsh words? You act like I'm a Senju, Madara!"

When she put it like that, he began to realize how much his actions had affected her life. Had he been too hard on her where her father wasn't? Was his disciplinary actions too much? He had done such things to Izuna, but not to such an extent… He was just trying to be the discipline she never got until she disciplined herself. He could have stopped there, but why didn't he? At any point he could have looked away and thought about his actions, but he didn't. Why?

His hands reached her shoulders again and stopped. He looked down at her, since even on his knees he had quite the height advantage over her. Her ponytail loose had become loose, allowing wet strands of hair to fall in front of her pale, anguished face. This woman had only been awake for two days and she acted like it was the end of the world. The Anju that had gone to sleep was not the same Anju who had woken up. That Anju would have been fighting through this and been a fiery, optimistic individual. But who was he to judge? He had never taken the time to get to know her, but he knew well enough that she needed to get her mind out of the gutter, and he knew Izuna was not for the job. He was too soft on her and she needed a firm hand, not someone to treat her lightly.

Taking matters into his own hands, he stood and pulled her up with him. "What the-" To shut her up, he smacked the back of her head, sending her forward some. The shock that registered on his face pleased him. She rubbed the spot, getting ready to speak again, but he beat her to it. "You act like it's the end of the damn world! Listen to me – people die every day! You act like you have to die as well! You need to stop feeling so damn sorry for yourself! Do you think no one else in this clan has lost someone? You need to move on! Sitting around reflecting on what has happened isn't going to help you, it is going to make you worse! I'm sorry this has happened to you, but you are alive! That's what matter's right now!"

"We can't all be like you, Madara! We can't all be emotionless and not care about the ones we lose!"

Something in him snapped. "So, that's what you think?" He shook his head and walked around her, standing behind her with his lips next to her ear. "You think I am an emotionless incapable of feeling the pain that comes with losing someone? Do you really think I did not grieve for days on end when I lost my brothers and later my Okāsan? No one knows the pain of losing the ones you love more than I do, Anju." His heart fluttered painfully in his chest as he thought of how the following weeks after the death of his mother affected him, and the deaths of his brothers. It was a pain he did not like to revisit.

"Before you go around pointing fingers as if you know someone, be sure you actually know them, Anju." He stepped away from her as she turned towards him, her head tilted back to look at his face, puzzled. "Now sit down, drink some tea, and have a meal."

They stood toe-to-toe, face to face, neither one moving. It was an intense stare down between onyx eyes. "Now that I have your attention, do as I said and sit down, drink your tea, and think about what you're going to do with yourself. No clan member of mine is going to sit on their ass doing nothing all day pitying themselves and being angry at the world when they can do something to stop it!"

It seemed what he said had gotten through to her head, at least partly. She removed her eyes from him and took a few steps back to her seat and crossed her legs as she sat down. Once again, he smacked the back of her head. "What was that for!?" She glared at him and rubbed her head yet again.

"Stop listening to every damn thing I say! It's annoying." He sat across from her and plopped one of the dango balls into his mouth, watching her intently.

Who would have thought? Madara, a voice of reason, to her nonetheless. The reasonable, logical part of her knew he was right. But that small, pained part of her that came with learning this terrible news nagged at her. "Don't give in to the depression. You have to fight it. The moment you listen to the dark thoughts is the moment you lose your sanity."

How did he know all of this? Then, she recalled the talk she had with Aito before he passed. With it, she remembered the look on Madara's face when he told her her mother had been murdered. She would never forget that look of pain on his face that reminded her Madara was in fact human.

Suddenly, she felt something she could only describe as sympathy towards the older male. "Is…is that how you deal with everything? By doing this?" It seemed her question surprised him. He stopped mid chew, staring at her with a raised brow. The expression was quite funny on his face, actually, any emotion on his face was quite amusing, and, despite the situation and her question, a smile crawled onto her face.

He closed his mouth, contemplating answering the question. "You see-"

"ANJU!" Before she could get her answer, she was picked up and spun around the room. "Where the hell have you been!?" When she was set down, she was met with the stern, though mostly worried gaze of Izuna. He was dripping with water from head to toe, obviously in distress. She placed her hands on his shoulders, trying to catch her balance. "I went outside."

He placed his hands on her shoulders. "You worried me sick! Next time, leave a note please? I've been looking for you everywhere!"

She had no idea he'd be this upset. He looked like he'd aged a hundred years in the matter of an hour or so, and she felt bad. "I'm sorry, Izuna. I just couldn't sit inside anymore." She was once again wrapped up into his warm embrace. "I am never leaving your side again. I promise."

And she believed him. He stared down at her, the promise in his eyes. "Let me take you to the hot spring here so you can warm up and I can find you something to wear. Unlike Madara, I don't usually use the servants." The two brothers glared at each other, and it seemed her encounter with Madara had been forgotten. "That sounds nice."

Izuna's smile faded and turned into a flat line. "How did you end up here?"

Madara answered for her. "I brought her here. She was outside in the cold and couldn't get up."

Shock then Izuna's usual happiness came onto his face. "Thank you, for bringing my Anju back safely. I'll see you for dinner?" The brothers silently nodded to each other, a seemingly silent agreement. In a hurry, Izuna wrapped an arm around her waist, letting her use him for support as he walked her to the hot springs. This estate had been built around them at one of the first heads orders. It had been awhile since she had been in them, and she craved the warmth they gave.

But as he escorted her and talked, she couldn't help but think about her exchange with Madara. He had treated her differently from the others times. This time, he had not been out to put her down, but rather he was trying to build her up again, or so it seemed. Maybe she was thinking too much about it. After all, why would Madara even be like that towards her? There was no reason, but she still felt she should take his words to heart. He was, for once, right.

"What's with the thinking face?" Izuna looked to her with concern. Her body warmed at such a look, as well as her mind. Such love in those eyes. "Its…It's just been a strange time being awake and all. I'm not sure what to think right now."

He chuckled, sliding the door to the springs open, his face was quite serious. "Just relax in the springs. Holler for me if you need anything. I'm going to find you something dry to wear, alright?"

Could she have asked for anyone better than Izuna? No. He was by far the most thoughtful person she had ever met, but it just might be towards her. She thought about what Aito had said to her.

"…I know how cruel he has been to you in particular, but you need to let go of the hate you have for him and forgive him for what he has and has not done. Once you do, you will be able to say yes to Izuna. If not, it will only harm you and your life, and your life with Izuna. Trust me."

If only it were that easy.