The earth does not sink beneath the pressure of his presence. Rather, his path is marked by the hum of vibrant vitality trailing in his wake. A power long thought dormant stirs from its slumber, drawn to the surface as the tide to the moon.
And yet his lips quirk upwards, the inhuman gleam to his eyes softened by a pleased sort of bafflement, as if he can't quite fathom why anyone would put up with him.
"Stupid brat," Madara grumbles.
The splutters are tinged with something fond and amused. "What did I do this time?"
"You forgot lunch," he gripes, complaint coming with the ease of familiarity. "Touko will have dinner ready soon. Let's go home."
"Yes," Natsume breathes. "Home."
From the arms encircling his form, Madara allows his painted gaze to drift beyond the forest path. Shadows follow their progression with reverence and scrutiny, knowing anticipation barely enough to keep their grasping lunges short.
Soon, the wind whispers.
Madara feels more than hears the warm sigh, the involuntary manner in which shoulders relax. The Fujiwara house is in sight, Shigeru just stepping through the gate.
Not yet, he thinks. Let his boy be ignorant a little while longer.
I hadn't planned to post this until I saw it was exactly 200 words, the perfect double drabble length.
I hope you all enjoyed it.