I dusted off my brown kimono – I had changed attire from the last one. It got ripped at the seams after a while, and I hadn't found a white kimono – and looked up to see the only thug left. He was breathing heavily, as around us were groaning and twitching madly men, his fellow brothers in all but blood, lying around and bleeding a little bit. I was feeling generous, so I felt complied to spare them of their lives. They hadn't done anything to deserve my judgement just yet, not that I knew of, so I hadn't killed them where they stood.
When I was battling the henchmen I was being watched. I had noted – while I was practically butchering the thugs into the ground – that the one watching wore black clothing, had red armour covering his form, and had very long, spiky, black hair, reaching all the way to his waist. He – for there were no bulges on the red plate armour covering his chest – also had a pair of eyes that when I made contact with them I almost froze.
They were Sharingan eyes.
But I decided to think about it at a later date. Because when our eyes made contact he disappeared in what I presumed was a sealless shunshin, or a shunpo.
"Wh-what are you?" the lone man screamed at me. He was frightened, that was as clear as it was clear that it was day. He was shaking something fierce, his hold on his club was wavering and his eyes darting to the sides, looking for an exit, an escape, from me. Clear signs of both nervousness and fear.
You see, I hadn't exactly been idle in the years I had been in Soul Society. I had trained rigorously under Zabuza Momochi's tutelage. I had trained under him in taijutsu, and while he had said that I was a hopeless case, he did mention that I had muscle potential and my reactions to when something got close to my face could be trained out of my brain. Zabuza succeeded in training me – with the help of shadow clones, of course, since muscle memory was all in the mind, and that whatever stress the shadow clones' muscles would be experiencing would be transferred to my own, thus rapidly decreasing the time it took for me to gain some muscle – in taijutsu so that I was skilled enough to take on the standard Genin. That was enough in my books, but not enough for Zabuza to be satisfied with himself training me. So he trained me to the ground. He was such a strict teacher that even I, with my enormous chakra reserves and all, was exhausted. It was a new feeling, actually. I hadn't felt that exhausted at any point in my life, at all.
The exhaustion felt good.
Zabuza was an excellent teacher, a very strict – and I cannot emphasize enough on how strict he was – and very oppressive. But those are all good qualities when you're supposed to train someone in the field of combat. He would point out the bad things that I had done in my stances and attack – had I overextended a punch? A kick? Did I move correctly from this offensive stance to that defensive stance? – and correcting them – "Yes, you did overextend that punch. And that kick. And no, you need to move your leg that way. Stand firmer!" – helping me become better at taijutsu, albeit gradually and slowly.
And I was gathering the fruits of my labour, after twenty years of rigorously training myself to the ground, I finally was good enough in my own books in taijutsu. Perhaps I could incorporate various ninjutsu into my taijutsu. Like the Raikage, A, from Kumo, did. He had the Lightning Release Armour. It would prove efficient if I could use it, so why not simulate the effects of it by channelling Lightning natured chakra through my brain, enhancing the speed of which my thoughts were processed into the land of unnaturalness. While not as enhanced and as efficient as the Raikage's own nintaijutsu – the Lightning Release Armour quickened A's reflexes so extremely much that he could dodge Amaterasu's black flames – , it was still formidable to comprehend. One second was like four seconds for me to react to. It was amazing, being able to react like lightning. People would talk about the man with lightning reflexes who had kicked more asses than the Shinigami. It was an extremely good feeling. But I had to suppress the feeling, in order to not make it go to my head. I had to be careful. If I continued showing off I believed that I would come at an impasse with Zabuza and Haku, and I'd eventually get mad with power, something I had already been.
I chuckled at the guy's anxiety. It was fun, instilling fear to the degree of where people would shake at the mere mention of my name. But alas, I shouldn't let power get to my head. It would be detrimental to my health, I believe. I bowed politely at the only conscious man in a sharp manner, all the while grinning mentally like a mad man, "I am Shinji Takuma, the second coming of the Sage of the Six Paths. Glad to meet you," I drawled at the last word, as well as raised a questioning eyebrow, as if I was asking for the name of the miserable thug.
The man, predictably, turned heel and ran, screaming "He's going to kill us! He's going to kill us all!" again and again, not stopping for a moment until he reached the safety of his home, wherever that was. Not that I was any interested in knowing where his home was. I would find myself being a stalker of men – as in, I'd be gay – first. And I was a flaming heterosexual, just so you know, what with my relationship with the beautiful Anko-chan and all.
I chuckled again, and turned around and picked up a beige bag of groceries. It was what I was out to originally get first, after all.
I began to think as I began to walk back to the house that Zabuza, Rukia, Renji, Haku and I occupied. Who could the person that had watched my fight with those henchmen be? Could it be that it was just a hallucination? It was always a possibility that my insanity, despite being slightly temporary as it was, could be affecting my vision, giving me hallucinations of people that curiously reminded me of the Uchiha I had fought before I had captured Kabuto. It was also possible that it was Madara, or Izuna. To me, they both looked very much alike, like twins they were. There was also the chance that it was, just like I had told myself, a hallucination. It was always a chance.
I felt a tug on my kimono. If it wasn't for the fact that it was so low positioned – at my waist – I would have thought it to be one of the thugs that had regained consciousness and had given chase, probably thinking I was a coward and was fleeing, despite the ass kicking I had dished out.
But turning my head around and facing the the one who yanked on my kimono, I saw a child with large green eyes and black, shaggy and spiky hair. He was deathly thin, as well as quite tanned, as if he had gotten a little bit too much sun. Somehow, I could sense some sort of power coming from him. But it was probably reiryoku, nothing for me to worry about. But his thinness was disturbing. Perhaps his guardians – if he had any – were abusing him? If that was the case then I'd bring the mother fucking thunder. I frowned on child abuse, and every single abuser of children deserved hell, no matter what gender the abuser was.
I knelt down and stared deeply into those green eyes that seemed to be too large not the child. He was that thin. I smiled gently at him, "What do you want, kid?" I said kindly to the boy.
The minor stared at me for less than a second before his eyes widened and he began opening his dry – and I noticed that his lip was cracked, as if it had been punched open – mouth to say something, only to close it again. Then he began doing gestures with his hands, motioning for his again open mouth and rubbing his fingers together. It was as if he needed money to buy food. And I had both of the required items.
Being slightly bewildered I asked the adolescent a question, "Can you not speak?"
The child shook his head in the negative, and began to once again, this time with more vigour, gesture at his mouth and rubbed his belly while licking his lips.
I nodded, "Do you need food? Or money for food?" I asked of him.
He nodded energetically, earning himself a chuckle from him.
I threw my head to the direction I was going, "Then follow me; I'm about to go home to the rest of my people," I was actually referring to the people that could still, for some reason, use chakra, "and if you wouldn't mind waiting a few more minutes, I'm sure the rest of them wouldn't mind you joining us for dinner. Is that alright with you, little one?" I patted him on the head, ruffling his hair a little.
Once again he nodded vigorously.
I chuckled again, "Alright, let's go," I said. I stood up from my kneeling position and held out a hand for the boy to take, which he did.
"Are you sure you can't speak?" I asked of the boy, trying to force concern for the boy through my voice, which I must say wasn't that difficult, seeing as I was genuinely concerned for the boy.
The boy shook his head, indicating that he couldn't speak. Oh well.
We continued to walk towards the destination I had set for before I was rudely interrupted by the thugs, the house of which we occupied. I began to ask the adolescent child a few questions. "Can you tell me your name?" I asked, "Because I can't keep saying 'you' all the time, now, can I?" I jokingly added, almost as an afterthought, actually.
The boy giggled, or at least his shoulders shook a little, and shook his head. "Well, what should I call you then? Should I give you a name? Or do you want a pen and paper to write down your name?" I continued to ask him.
The boy smiled at me and held up a single finger with his unoccupied hand. Huh. Maybe he chose option number one, or he wanted me to look up. It was without a doubt the former anyway, so I just continued, "Do you want me to give you a name?" I questioned of him.
The boy nodded.
"Alright then... what about-" and so I continued to ask of him which name he liked. I had tried Shunsui, I had tried Shinji – despite it being my name –, I had tried Haku, Zabuza, Renji, Rukia – just to screw with my fellow residents, of course –, and many more, but the child decided that he didn't like any of them, at least not as of yet. Finally, when we reached the small house we resided in – temporarily, since Rukia had agreed to finally become a Shinigami under the guise that she would watch over Renji, to make sure he wouldn't do anything too harsh on himself –, I decided to just drop all pretences and asked of the boy, "Alright, fine, I give, what about Madara?", because despite the hardships Madara had put me through, I still had to have a begrudging respect to the monster. He had a thing for long-ass plans, plans that would make Light from Death Note be a little bit jealous. Keyword being a little bit. There is nothing that would be able to beat Light at planning, not L – since he died –, not Lelouch from Code Geass, not anyone. Too bad he ended up like I had, insane and drunk on power.
The boy giggled, and then vigorously nodded at the name.
What? He wanted a monster's name? Well, who would I be to judge? It was only a name, albeit a name that reminded me of the sorrows that I had experienced, but a name nonetheless. Huh, how annoying. I hoped right then and there that I didn't have to deal with the boy staying. Otherwise I might just kill him because of the name he chose. It was, after all, a monster's name. But that would mean that if I killed him I would just up and become insane. It was insane to kill someone just because of the name they themselves chose to have, right? Right? Of course! Stupid, now I wanted to hit myself. Hard. But I wouldn't. Zabuza would do that for me next time we went to train on taijutsu. He was brutal like that.
I believed that I shouldn't voice my thoughts, though. It was obvious that the boy didn't know about the meaning the name had to me. So therefore, voicing my thoughts would be absolutely dumb, not smart, whatever.
I knocked on the door twice and opened it, "I'm home!" I yelled a little bit, "And I've brought us a guest!", and then I heard a scuffle from the attic. Of course, Renji and Rukia just had to be fighting again. They always seemed to do that whenever I was out to buy us something. Zabuza and Haku weren't inside the house, since they had both said that they would be training somewhere. I wasn't about to complain about the current loneliness of the place. I rather liked being left alone, sometimes.
I heard the scuffle escalate, and then Rukia – it could only be Rukia, her piercing voice was the only thing that could possibly grate my nerves that much, not that they did very often – yelled something along the lines of 'Get up, you oaf!' or something.
Then, after a few moments of even more scuffling, the two love-birds – I wished they weren't, seeing as I wasn't exactly a fan of Renji's – finally descended down the stairs. They both looked as if they had had a fight, which meant that their clothing was less than presentable. Though Rukia's clothing looked far more pristine than those of Renji's. Rukia was huffing like a madwoman, and Renji was huffing like a madman, both refusing – in quite the childish manner – to look at one another, crossing their arms and huffing even more. "Now that you two love-birds are done with your business, how about you properly greet our new guest?" I asked. I continued, "His name, for now," I reluctantly began to tell them the boy's name, "is Madara," I said, with only a small amount of well-hidden venom in my voice. It was decided. The child would change his name, whether he liked it or not.
Rukia's and Renji's personalities did a one-eighty, both becoming cheerful and compliant all of a sudden. Rukia noticeably more so than Renji. "Oh, how cute!" Rukia pinched the boy's cheeks like how a mother-hen would. I wisely decided to let go of the boy – I simply refuse to call him Madara! Oh, why did I even suggest that name? Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! – and joined Renji's side. I knelt down and whispered into Renji's ear something that made Renji's eyes go wide, and then narrow. He nodded in determination.
After all, it wasn't always that he got an order from me, now, was it?
"Watch over the boy. I don't like the feeling he gives off of him," I had told Renji.
Author's Note: I apologize for the shortness of this chapter, but I've lost inspiration. I beg of you, reader, please give me some suggestion as to how I can get inspiration again! I don't care in what form it comes in! Just give me something. Suggest a fanfiction for me to read, please! Anything! I am getting desperate here.