18. Carnival

Rating: T

Verse: unspecified, Madara-lives, post 4th War AU. Continuation of fic number 8 – Sound of Silence

Inspiration/Idea: me

After what seemed like two days Madara came to the conclusion he needed to formulate a strategy. Any strategy. Because the more time he left to his captors, the bigger was the chance that they would formulate theirs.

When towards the evening of the third day he suddenly start sensing repeated violent vibrations coming from his right – the same spot where he assumed the window was – it only reaffirmed his conviction. Whatever was happening out there – a attack, some form of an uproar – he didn't want to be left in a vulnerable position during it. If the building was going to collapse, he would be a helpless victim. If the angry crowd was coming to lynch him – he would also rather meet them unbound.

It surprised him to no end that the woman appeared at the usual time and behaved seemingly unperturbed. At least as much he was able to estimate the time and her behavior with so little sensory input. She first fed him, and then proceeded to push the chakra into his system again.

Which helped him to finalize his plan. His chakra might have been sealed but, whatever powers he had obtained during his long life, he still possessed them. And he had the power of Rinnegan. It was now in him, entangled into the very thing that he was, into his very existence.

He needed no eyes.

When her chakra invaded him, he pulled. He sucked it. He drank it.

The tricky part came afterwards. He needed to cast a genjutsu and he needed to cast it fast.

Advanced Sharingan genjutsu didn't need eye contact. Even regular Sharingan users, if skilled enough, could manage with a hand gesture. Using chakra just stolen from the woman he weaved the genjutsu. Woman's hand fell limply on his chest.

"Unbind me."

Sluggish, slow fingers grappled around the collar on his neck. She was fighting the genjutsu. He needed to deepen it before she broke free.

"Hands."

Her fingers were even slower now when they were moving around the straps on his wrists. How was she able to resist him so much? She would break any second!

One of the cuffs fell open.

Did he have enough of that stolen chakra?

Madara sprung up straightening as much as remaining restraints allowed him. He grabbed woman's throat and forced her to look at him. He still had enough. He deepened the genjutsu.

Alright. Now it would hold. Madara allowed his muscles to relax a bit. He fell back on the pillow, exhausted.

Woman's fingers busied themselves with the remaining binds in a bit more vigorous way. The control was more thorough now. Madara recalled how it felt to be captured under genjutsu. They had trained it a lot when they were kids. An adult clan member would put them under an illusion and make them do and feel all kinds of things. Some had been torture, to increase their endurance and resistance to pain. Some had been displays of the perception-altering uses of genjutsu, and they had been supposed to recognize which parts of reality had been changed. Others had been just about control. Those he had hated the most. Even more than torture.

"Unbind my chakra."

It felt like a breath of air when the chakra started to circulate in his system.

Madara sat up.

What now? His chakra was miserably low. Almost at a civilian level. Why was he so empty? What the heck happened to him? He didn't remember. Black Zetsu stabbed him in the back and then, then… He recalled a feeling of something emerging from him. Like a butterfly from a cocoon. Was he a cocoon to something? How could it be? Did it even really happen? And if so, then what exactly did emerge from him? Was it the reason for his wretched state? Madara needed answers.

Maybe the woman could provide some.

Was she even there, in that body sitting next to the bed? Or did he scramble her brain through that haphazard genjutsu?

Madara took woman's head between his hands and slid his chakra into the net he had covered her with. Yes, she was still there. So she was aware of what was going on. Being a puppet with an awake brain - the kind of genjutsu he hated the most as a child. He felt a pang of compassion for the woman. Well, she wouldn't have to suffer too long under it, he would make a quick job with of her.

"Seal on my ears."

The crack of an explosion made him almost recoil from pain. After such a long silence his ears were oversensitive.

"What is going on out there?" was his first question to which he required a verbal answer from her.

"Fireworks." Her voice sounded as strained as stiff her fingers felt.

"Why?"

"Carnival."

Madara arched his eyebrow in amusement. A carnival? They were celebrating a carnival? The scope of human foolishness never ceased to amaze him. Well, but it was perfect. He was expecting a war and having to fight his way through the rows of the both defenders and attackers alike. He might not need to fight at all.

"Where are we?"

"Konoha."

Well, it was all forming to be easier than he expected.

He put his hands on woman's face. A young face, elastic skin, still some child-like roundness in its oval. He dragged fingers higher, up to the cheeks, up to her eyes. Careful. He needed these eyes.

He pried open her eyelids to take the first one.

And hesitated. Completely irrationally, he hesitated. The girl sat motionless like a doll, unable to react. She would feel pain, but she was a kunoichi, she could handle it. And after he gets his answers, he would end her suffering.

Madara lifted her eyelid again.

He felt her breath against his palm. Maybe leaving a bloodied, eyeless corpse behind wasn't the best idea. That would kind of make it very obvious that he had escaped on his own. If he just disappeared all questions would be open. He could have been kidnapped by another village. Konoha would need to keep its lips shut tight. He would be pursued only in the deepest secrecy.

Still, he needed some eyes.

"Your clan?" Madara wanted to rationalize his hesitation.

"I don't have a clan."

"How many Uchihas are in the village?"

"None."

"How come?"

"Sasuke Uchiha is away."

Right, there had been a massacre. Madara couldn't summon even a dash of compassion. Fools deserved what they got.

"How many Hūygas?"

"About forty…"

He dragged his fingers along girl's cheekbones. To her ears, through her hair.

"What happened to me?"

"You... exploded. And then Kaguya emerged from you."

Kaguya? A legendary divine being? The One that was Ten-Tails?

"And then?"

"We fought her. She was sealed."

"And me? What about me?"

"She spat you out. We collected you."

"And you didn't kill me... Harebrained as always… A true legacy of Hashirama," said Madara more to himself than to the girl. In this genjutsu she wasn't capable of having a conversation. She would only react on direct questions and follow simple commands.

Still, how was he even alive…? The genjutsued medic wouldn't tell him more now, he would first need to secure her, modify the genjutsu and interrogate her properly. Something to take care of later. He required more time to get to the bottom of it and to understand his condition.

"You will walk me out of here. Put a henge on yourself." He splayed his hands on her face and felt her features morph and transform. "Your hair as well." He held a strand between his fingers. They turned from silky-smooth to curly.

"Help me stand."

Girl extended her arm to him. After days of lying flat Madara was a bit shaky on his legs. Was it even days? Or maybe weeks? Or months? Another thing to research later. Now the most urgent problem was to get out of here. He was not in a state to fight and he had to face it. He escape without raising a commotion.

"Clothing for me."

Silence answered him. Apparently, the issue wasn't a straightforward one. He needed some clothes – parading naked through Konoha would for sure attract attention. Seemed that the girl had to regain access to a bigger part of her brain. Madara tsked. And grabbed the girl's chin.

"Clothing for me," he repeated.

"Uhm… you're too big for my coat…" Her voice and syntax were now more similar to normal human speech. "But on the corridor, there is a closet with coats and scrubs in different sizes."

"Alright." Madara focused whatever scraps of chakra he had left and performed a miserable henge. He only managed to change the color of his hair, and the shape of his nose. It was very rough. The genjutsu took a proper toll on him. What a humiliating experience. But it wasn't the first humiliation he had lived through. He lived through many and always emerged victorious, that was just another step. He wound his arm around girl's shoulders. "Lead. And scout the corridor for passers-by."

Thank all the gods the closet contained both trousers and the upper parts. And they fitted. And thank gods no one walked on them. Keeping the henge and the genjutsu made Madara immediately sweat through the shirt the girl put on him. Last time he was so weak was after Hashirama had killed him.

Wrapping his arm around girl's shoulders again Madara leaned a bit forward. Maybe he can pass for a drunk being led by his girlfriend? The carnival situation could act to his advantage.

The fabric covering girl's shoulder was unusual. With his free hand he unceremoniously palmed at her chest. Strange fabric here as well, with some small metal plates and tiny, hard, tetrahedral granules. He palmed lower – her skirt was a flimsy, net-like material.

"What are you wearing?"

"A costume. A costume of a fairy."

"Why?"

"It is customary to dress up during the carnival. I was about to go to the street parade after checking on you."

This carnival thing was turning out more and more advantageous. As moronic as it was. The gods were with him.

"Take your coat off. And lead the way. To Hūyga compound."

AN: Thx for reading and please share your thoughts with me!