Author's note: Oof, I wanted to continue writing on this one. I had to cut myself off to preserve quality.
Omg, Kitsune, Dixi, you guys make me laugh so much. So glad you're both enjoying it still.
Chapter 14: Love
A gentle knock interrupted the flow of Tobirama's writing.
"Come in." he called, flipping through the report to try and reclaim his place as the stranger stepped in. "What can I do for you?"
"Lord Tobirama." a woman said with a polite bow. "My name is Amata Uchiha. Lord Hachiro enlisted my help with your request." Tobirama looked up, trying to remember the conversation that had prompted this visit.
"Yes, please have a seat." He motioned to the chair in front of him.
"Thank you." Amata moved elegantly in her perfect kimono. She sat slowly, and it was then Tobirama noticed the small bump in her stomach.
"You're married to Sho Hyūga, aren't you?"
"Yes, you were at my wedding." she reminded him with a forced smile.
"Right," he mumbled through a slight cringe, "my apologies." He tapped his pen nervously against the desk, and she held up her hand, excusing him from the lapse in memory. "What is it that you have to report?"
"You wanted to know the details of the Uchiha's internal strife?" Amata asked. He nodded. "Since Lord Hashirama was appointed to Hokage, Lord Madara has become more and more convinced that the Uchiha are being displaced from power and governance. He's sure that you will be next in line to take the Hokage's office." She paused, allowing him a moment to clarify or contest the characterization. Tobirama made no such move. It was an apt analysis. "He has been warning the Uchiha of this displacement. We had estimated approximately a third of the Uchiha defected from the clan and sought shelter with the Senju. Another third had plans to defect, but simply no time given how quickly the situation developed. Which leaves only a third that remained loyal. Whether to Lord Madara or the clan, I cannot say with certainty. So, upon these warnings, approximately two thirds of the clan was very vocal in their concerns that Lord Madara was vying for more power…at the expense of peace."
"And what do you think?" Tobirama challenged. Amata stared back at him, her perfect face affectless. She was refined and in absolute control of her emotions. It was difficult for the Senju man to see any more than she was willing to reveal.
"I have heard how you speak of my people. His concerns are not without merit." she admitted.
"And what of Umika's injuries?" The mention of the young Uchiha girl was the only time he saw Amata's hardened exterior crack.
"Umika…has always been loyal to Lord Madara. To a fault, even." Amata clicked her tongue and shifted in the chair, letting her gaze fall from Tobirama. She picked a near invisible piece of lint off her kimono. "In speaking with the other Uchiha…it seems she spoke out in defense of Lord Madara when she heard others calling him a warmonger." Amata's jaw clenched. "She called them traitors and…they stoned her."
"Perhaps these barbaric rituals are why I speak ill of your people." Tobirama immediately spat, disgusted by the cruel treatment of the girl. Amata felt the overwhelming urge to curse him. She thought about engulfing him in her flames. Sachiko or Umika would have been brave enough to do it. They would never have tolerated such slander. But Amata had always been slower to react, if not just as quick to anger. She had always been able to suppress those desires behind a stone face, making her the ideal representatives in civil disputes, both internal and external to the clan.
"Umika has been effectively isolated from the Uchiha, along with Lord Madara." Amata finished her report.
"So, what? They can continue to stone girls in our streets, and we are expected to sit idly by?" Tobirama harped. It was a rhetorical question, one that Amata knew she was not supposed to answer. The wise thing to do would have been to excuse herself, but she could not help but speak in defense of her friend.
"With all due respect, Lord Tobirama, you have the power to end this diplomatically."
"What do you suggest?"
"The Uchiha, while suspicious of Lord Madara's intentions, do not doubt that you hold an animosity for them. Your rhetoric certainly does you no favors."
"What of it?" the irate man snapped.
"This poison will spread." Amata warned. "And it will consume this village in fire and ash. Bring them into your fold. If you were to marry Umika, you could single handedly spare her and thwart any concerns about discrimination against the Uchiha. Your children would carry our blood." Amata instinctively reached for her stomach.
"It's not that simple." Tobirama dismissed.
"It never is." Amata concurred, standing up from the chair. "But I am asking you to save my dearest friend. There is a reason the Uchiha had such a violent reaction to Umika's accusations. Defection…treachery…these are the most despicable of crimes in our culture. And right now, Lord Madara and Umika are looked on as traitors. It would take the might of the entire village to snuff out one…but the other has never even taken a life. Not even in the heat of battle. She would sooner let her own blood run than draw it from someone else." Amata pushed the chair back under Tobirama's desk. She swallowed the lump of tears forming in her throat. "And I worry that it just may if things continue as they are." Amata took in a shaky breath before giving the Senju another bow. "I have nothing else to report. Excuse me."
Madara laid in bed, watching Umika stir honey into his tea. He frowned when he noticed the wounds hidden behind her hair. He sat up and gently cupped her face, turning it toward him. He tucked her wavy locks back behind her ear and ran his thumb over the cut on her jaw.
"What happened?"
"I fell." she quickly explained.
"You're a bad liar."
"No, really." she insisted. "That's why the cuts are on the same side of my face." Madara ran his fingers through her hair, stopping over the scabs on the other side of her head. He glared at her. "Th-that was from something else."
"The cut on your jaw looks just a day old. The others are older. So, tell me: what happened."
"It's really nothing." she whispered, wanting him to drop it.
"Do you not trust me?"
"Of course, I trust you!"
"Then tell me."
"I…upset some of the Uchiha and they…threw rocks at me."
"What did you do to upset them?"
"I…called them traitors." she mumbled the last word under her breath.
"What would compel you to do that?' Madara pushed. She refused to answer. "Are you protecting me? You think I don't hear their accusations?"
"They're wrong!" she assured him. "You don't need to worry about that now." She held up the tea for him to drink. "Lord Hachiro and Lord Hashirama said you still need to rest after your treatment."
"I'm fine." Madara objected, though taking the tea. She watched him drink it, sitting by his side in anticipation of anything else he might need. He couldn't help but to admire her. He set down the cup on the nightstand and held out his hand for her. She smiled and took it. He pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers. Umika let out a surprised squeak. She could count on one hand the number of times he had kissed her. Such warmth was rare for the battle-hardened man. He rolled her onto her back, and she opened her mouth, allowing his tongue to explore it. There was a fondness in his eyes when he pulled away to stare at her. He gently stroked her cheek with his thumb. "How does your loyalty run so deep?" She looked back at him, trying to read his expression. "Even when all others abandon me…you risk life and limb to be at my side."
"I love you, Madara." She grabbed his face and planted another kiss on his lips. "I would do anything for you. I have always loved you."
"Always?"
"Since we were children." she confessed with a cute nod. "You're so brave and strong. And you always protected me, no matter what. From bullies, from enemies, even from chores sometimes."
"You were terrible at folding shirts." Madara grumbled, recalling how he had offered to do it for her many times, just for his own sanity. He began kissing down her neck and across her collarbone.
"Do you love me?" she asked, tightening her grip on his waist. A deep breath left his nostrils. He dipped his hand into her kimono, pulling the fabric low. He kissed her bare shoulder.
"With every fiber of my being."
