A short chapter... My head feels woozy today


Kumo had only been asleep for a few hours before she was woken up. Someone was banging on her door. A wave of nostalgia washed over her as she groaned. Her eyes felt peculiar and when she got up to open the door, the person on the other side found them just as peculiar as she did.

"Rise and shine, Kumo. We're going to spar today." She blinked sleepily at Izuna. He noticed the disheveled mess of hair had been reduced and the purple lines beneath her eyes had also been undone. But the lids of her eyes were swollen, just like when people cry too much. Izuna stood in front of her for a moment, expecting her to respond. Kumo only stood there and then slowly turned around and walked to her bed, crashing into it.

He peered into the room, curious. It was mostly empty and her bed looked like the untidiest part of it. She was curled up on it with her blanket strewn beneath her. Her sleeveless blouse revealed a lot more about her frame, her arms looked thin and unfit. There were a few scars around her elbows. Her pajamas rode up to her knees, revealing the wheatish skin that had never seen the light of day. Izuna wondered how it must feel to be a woman. Shamelessly, he strode in and nudged the girl with his foot. She simply rolled over. He frowned, "Kumo. Get up." He nudged her again and she groaned, her lips scrunching up in annoyance. Her eyes fluttered open and closed again.

Losing his patience, he kicked her side. Her eyes shot open and she sat up. He grinned.

The next few mornings were spent in the same routine. Pre-sunrise sparring with Izuna was a lot more fun than what Kumo had imagined, albeit tiring. She spent the afternoons napping or showing Madara the kinjutsus developments on old corpses that had been preserved in the cold. Sometimes in the mornings he would sit in on his little brother's sparring sessions, correcting Kumo's form when she needed it. His duties weighed heavily on his mind and when the day to change battlements approached, Madara began strategizing on how to drive the Senju further west. When he held council, he was sure to request Kumo's presence.

"I don't understand why your brother calls me to these boring meetings." She complained. Izuna glanced at her. "It's because your sister is too young for these things, it's her duty to sit in on these meetings and she's both far too dumb and far too childish." He returned his attention to shining his katana. "I am far too dumb and far too childish too." He scoffed in response, "Quiet the contrary actually." She smiled at him, "You flatter me far too much." Izuna's lips quirked as he continued focusing on his blade. Kumo leaned against the cold wall of the courtyard. Snow was beginning to cover the worn out brick floor and there was not a single plant in sight. She watched Izuna, comparing his appearance to Madara. He looked younger and paler than his older brother. The sort of pale that flushed easily, she imagined. He spoke up, knowing that she was silently observing him as she usually did.

"Do you mind filling in for your sister?"

The question weighed on her mind and she looked up at the grey sky, the peaks of surrounding mountains interrupting the view. I can't say I mind, but I don't really know how I feel about this.

"I guess I'm alright with it."

"You know he'd rather have you by his side than her."

"That is only because she's too young."

"Yes but there are differences between the two of you and I am sure, any day, Madara would have chosen you over her."

She shifted, wondering the depth of his words. Chosen in what sense? Her mind reeled to the Senju she had felt her heart flutter for once, now it only throbbed dully, like blood rushing to a wound. Izuna was watching her from the corner of his eyes, gauging her reaction. He found himself wondering just how far her understanding of his brother went and whether her fiery temper was a product of disregard for him or an understanding of what he needed. A strong woman. Izuna remembered his brother's answer, he had asked him what sort of wife he would have preferred. A strong woman could be any woman, one with morals, one with skill, one with power, one with charm. Kumiko Tsukinowa had only one of those qualities and that was skill. Izuna found her neither charming, nor morally upright. She was a spider through and through, it was her second nature.

He glanced at her, she was staring into the sky, expression both lost and fascinated. Now that she had tamed her appearance, she seemed almost pretty to Izuna. Her hair was the brown of fertile soil and it was echoed in her eyes. The ring around her right iris had resumed its calm silver colour. Izuna had observed it's stark whiteness when Kumo felt ill or tense. She was tall for a woman, standing at 5'6. She was slim and her eyes were wide in her face. He began to notice on his trips to wake her up in the morning, she was curvy. Underneath all the dark clothing was a real woman. He looked away, feeling his face warm up at the thought. He could not say he was attracted to her, no he would rather have said he admired her. She was a year older than him, he was still 16 and as she liked to say sometimes "a fresh youth".

Madara strode through the inner halls, glancing out the door that opened to the courtyard. He caught a glimpse of brown and took a few steps back to peak through the door. It was Kumiko and Izuna, they seemed preoccupied in being…lost. One was staring off into the sky while the other was staring intently at a recently polished blade. If I had that kind of time. He scoffed, turning to go into the courtyard. His appearance hadn't bothered them. Kumo's eyes were partially shut and she was close to dozing off.

"Stop wasting time."

Both of them snapped to attention, looking at each other first and then him. Izuna grinned cheekily, winking at the sleepy Kumo. She stood up, blinking away the tiredness in her eyes. Instead of sticking around to talk, she walked past him, elbows brushing as she headed to the stairwell. Madara had watched her go, turning to Izuna as he offered him a hand. He took it and stood up. The brothers exchanged a warm look, silent communication Kumo called it. She was watching them and as Izuna turned to show his brother the blade, she turned away to go up the stairs.