"I would make it a bit tighter at the waist—Right here." Amako instructed the elderly tailor, as the woman's skilled fingers fitted the wedding dress on Mego. Acting like she knows people's jobs better than them was so like her mother. "By gods, when did you get so skinny? Do they feed you here? Tsk." She proceeded to complain.

"I was always skinny." Mego resisted the urge to roll her eyes in front of the help.

"Hm, what do you think?" Her mother asked when the tailor moved and she could look at herself in the large mirror. She came closer. "I like the material, and the design." She offered a meaningful look under her brows. "Now, if only you'd gain a few kilograms, it would be just perfect."

"It will have to do the way it is." Mego sighed, running her hands down her torso to feel the silk, holding her head high as she observed her reflection. "It really is nice. I'm pleased with this one." She smiled at the tailor. Frankly, she would probably be pleased with anything at this point. She hadn't had a chance to wear any pretty, colored clothes for a year now. She felt like a princess just from the touch of the expensive fabric on her skin. She had to remove it right away, sadly, as the tailor had to take it back and work on the things Amako had pointed out.

She slid back into her usual, gray attire while Amako saw the help through the door, and turned to her again.

"Do you know the exact date, yet?"

"I will know today, brother in law went to arrange—"

"Brother in law?" The older woman spat. "Don't let anyone hear you call him that! We want people to forget what you two were as soon as possible."

"I know, mother. I let my guard down, it's just us here."

She looked up confused when Amako approached her, taking her face in her hands. "And what is this?" She spoke gently. "You seem troubled. Is everything alright?"

Mego exhaled wearily, unaware her feelings were that transparent. Nevertheless, she shook her head as to say it was fine.

"It's only that the wedding is coming up, and there's so much to do." She offered and unconvincing smile. Her mother didn't bother returning one. She stepped away and crossed her arms.

"I never heard you worry like that when you were marrying Izuna." She paused, possibly wanting to give Mego a chance to speak. Met with silence, she went on. "Seriously now, Mego." Her tone lowered with concern. "Is everything alright? He is good to you, isn't he?"

"Yes, yes! Of course." The girl sighed. "It's just… He has so much on his mind right now, he's very troubled and I…" She shrugged helplessly. "I feel like I'm in the way. I don't know how to help, and I don't want to be a burden…"

What little excitement she had managed to keep about the wedding after Tajima's death, had disappeared the past days. Madara was rarely home, and when he was, he'd either go to bed early or bury himself in work. If she tried talking to him, he'd kindly ask her to essentially stay out of his way. She did hear about some other clans coming to live with them in the new village, but didn't know why that was so bad. Honestly, she didn't want to make herself look stupid by asking such questions.

"Do you know what it is that troubles him?"

"Tajima's death, obviously." Mego gestured. "But something is also going on with the village. He wasn't even that bad until he returned from there."

"Then you need to learn more about it." Her mother squeezed her shoulders to encourage her. "Once you're married, you'll be his advisor."

"What advice could I possibly offer him?"

"Even just understanding will do. Keep up, so you can be there for him." Amako shook her head in disapproval, going over to a chair to sit down. "It's my fault. I never wanted to burden you with much, so I failed to teach you important things."

"Keep up, then?" Mego whispered. "Where can I start?"

"Read something other than those shameless stories of yours!" The woman's words made her grimace and look away. "Speak to your father, I'll ask him to come over these days. He can teach you anything related to politics."

"Good." Mego nodded, smiling lightly. That sounded like a good beginning.

"I'll take my leave now. Walk with me to the door." Amako got up, stretching her arm so Mego could wrap hers around it as they walked. They passed through the hallway in comfortable silence, slowly making their way to the end.

"Don't worry too much." Amako said, standing at the door. "It will all work out. He cares about you a lot, I'm sure he'll appreciate your concern."

She nodded, feeling slightly relieved.

"Thank you, mother."

….

Silence at the dining table was deafening, clacking of the eating utilities being the only noise to interrupt it. As per usual, Mego forced herself to eat a tad bit more with Madara and servants around, and then sat back taking a sip of water and wiping the corners of her mouth with a handkerchief.

Plastering a pleasant smile on her face, she slowly stood up.

"That was nice." She praised the food, fixing the fabric of her dress where it wrinkled from sitting. "Do you mind if I leave first?" She was expecting her father to come visit her on that day, and planned to get some paper ready in case she needs to write something down.

Lost for a moment, she saw Madara make eye contact with Toya who stood by the door before facing her. When Mego glanced at the girl too, she blinked, hastily looking away before leaving the room.

"I do." He spoke evenly, not bothering to stop cutting the meat on his plate. "Sit down."

"What?" She asked breathily, her throat tightened in worry because of his cold tone. "Is something—" Rendered silent when he gave her an impatient look, she swiftly obeyed. "M-Madara?" She tried again, deeply confused by his sudden anger.

"Your handmaiden tells me you don't eat." He began, pushing his plate away as he also finished his food. "Mind explaining that?"

"Toya? Why she—She has no right—"

"Don't get mad with the girl. She means you well." He took a sip of his wine, and leaned back to look at her. "Why aren't you eating, Mego?"

"I eat as much as I need. I'm not a child." Standing up, this time decidedly, she stepped away from the table, about to leave. It seemed that even servants had the audacity to make her business their own. "You don't have to worry about me—" She gasped, staggering away in surprise when Madara slammed his hand on the table, making the dishes on its surface jump, followed by brief, ringing noise.

"Do I have anyone else to worry about?!" He shouted, standing up and pointing to her empty seat. "Sit down, Mego, I'm not done talking!"

Unused to being yelled at, she tried her best to push back the lump in her throat, and once more, did as he said, sitting across from him. She kept her eyes glued to her empty plate, knowing she'd probably start crying if she were to look up. With her peripheral vision she saw him sit back down too, letting out a heavy sigh.

"What's going on?" He began, more gently, but the impatience never truly left his voice. "Are you feeling sick?"

"No, I feel well. I simply…" She shrugged. "I have no appetite. But it's alright! I know I must eat, and I do." She gestured with persuasion. He shouldn't have to concern himself with even more issues. Frowning, she tried resisting another overwhelming wave of feeling she was a burden.

"See, Toya says you only eat somewhat properly when I'm around." Even without facing him, she felt his eyes bore into her. "And I see you. Since giving birth, you've been skin and bones. That has to change. At this point, you'll fall ill." Since she remained quiet, Madara cleared his throat.

"If that's clear, I'll go see Shime." He got up, making his way over. Mego looked up, feeling his hand rest on her shoulder. "I will make sure you're watched. Don't think this conversation was for naught."

She had managed to keep her expression straight while he stood by her, but felt her eyes itch with tears as soon as he moved away. Blinking them away did nothing, a few slowly slid down her cheeks. Have her peace taken even at home, that would surely benefit her!

"I can't force myself to want to eat." She whispered, hoping he wouldn't notice her quickly wipe her cheeks with her fingers.

"You don't have a choice."

"Right." She sniffed. "And if I don't?" She asked with what little defiance she could collect, watching his broad back. "What will you do?"

Turning around to face her once more, she expected anger or perhaps cold indifference; but not such honest, exhausting hurt his eyes showed her. He snickered sadly, and shrugged his shoulders.

"What will I do?" He sighed. "Nothing. I could never do anything to help the people I loved. Starve yourself to death, if you're so set on it. I have no time to babysit you."

Left alone, Mego gave herself a few minutes to regain control over her breathing before leaving the dining room. Any anger she felt towards Toya flew away when she saw the girl waiting in the hallway, fidgeting nervously. Toya meant well, and so did Madara, she was aware of that. Only, neither of them understood her useless existence. What could possibly get her hungry? Servants felt uncomfortable if she tried doing housework; she only had so much shallow creativity to work on her hobbies, and only that much patience to pace around the same garden back and forth every day.

"Forgive me, my lady." The girl pleaded. "I didn't know how else to help…"

Mego sighed, conjuring up a small smile.

"I know. Don't worry about it."

…

"Madara?" Shime didn't bother to hide her surprise, when he entered her humble home, later in the evening. "I wasn't expecting you."

"Yes, I need to ask you something." He sighed, watching the older woman's tent, unused to it being so cleanly organized. Since their battles with the Senju stopped, she had significantly less work. Other clans were reluctant to attack too, knowing full well they wouldn't be able to handle their alliance.

Placing two mugs of wine on a small table, she sat down on her bed – the only seat in the tent, inviting him to join her. Small fire crackled in the corner, heavy rain spread drowsiness everywhere, almost making him feel at ease.

"So?"

Inhaling deeply, he took a sip before speaking.

"My wedding is to be held in a week, I'm sure you've heard." He began, looking at his reflection in the beverage. "It won't be much, just us and family…"

"Yes, I'm aware of it. Your wedding with the woman you claimed not to be involved with." As expected, she didn't miss her chance to sting. "You know you could have trusted me. I have to admit I'm a bit hurt." She took a long chug of the alcohol.

"I'm not involved with her, not really. Anyway…" He cleared his throat, looking up to hold eye contact with Shime. "With Tajima gone… I have no one to stand by me during the wedding." He paused, drinking once again. It was still hard to believe, his heart ached upon saying it out loud. "Would you… Would you take his place?"

Shime observed him for one careful minute, not rushing to make her decision.

"I will lose some friends if I do that. People aren't happy with you, Madara."

"I know." He admitted weakly. He wasn't sure what he was even expecting. He tried, anyway. It won't be a shock to anyone if he just stands there alone. Drinking up the rest of his wine, he placed his mug back on the table. "Fine, then—"

"I'm not refusing you, I'll do it." She motioned for him to stay sitting. "But I want you to know at what cost."

"Thank you." He felt relief mixed with a bit of guilt overcome him, almost wishing to give her a hug, but neither of them were ever so open, so he settled for a firm nod her way.

"The clan now knows about your sister in law, as well as Hisa." She looked at him grimly. "They don't want a leader who gets caught up in so many scandals. Tajima was a good man to follow, and he also died because—" She gulped abruptly, ending her own sentence, possibly not wanting to be hurtful.

"Because of me." He finished. "I'm well aware of it all. I'll never forget what you did for me."

"You better not." He felt her hand land on top his head, ruffling his hair gently. A tiniest smile lingered on her lips. "You're lucky I like you." Observing him for a few moments, she went on, "You remind me so much of myself when I was young… I almost feel like you're my child." Her hand came down to rest on his cheek. "This clan is full of fuckheads, anyway. It will feel good to piss them off."

Unexpected, unforced laugh escaped him for the first time in a long time, and he gently laid his hand on her wrist. At least on paper, he supposed he still had family.

"I thought as much." He grinned.