Note: I'm back and it's been so long I completely forgot how any of this works. Enjoy, leave a review, you know the drill. Buh-bye.
Madara stared at his phone with a look of utter disgust.
He knew that number. He loathed that number.
The person on the other end of this call was like a piece of gum he accidentally stepped on when he was a kid and never could scrape off the sole of his shoe. Take the feeling of coarse sand getting on the inside of your swimwear and rubbing you in all the wrong places combined with that feeling of revulsion whenever you have to get that slimy clump of hair out of your shower drain and multiply that by a thousand – that was exactly what Madara felt every time he called.
Resigning himself to his fate, he moved his thumb to the accept call button while suspiciously eying the caller ID – it read DUMBASS in capital letters, though if it were up to the caller himself, he probably would have saved his number under BFFS 4EVA.
Madara's thumb pressed down on the green icon and he immediately had to hold his phone away when he was met with ear-piercing laughter.
"Madara, old chap, how are you, how are things with the orchestra, are you still torturing your little musicians? You know what, I don't care, what are you doing this Friday?"
Madara couldn't supress the groan escaping from this throat. Still having this individual in his life was his own fault, really. After all, there were more than enough warning signs. You simply do not start a friendship with Hashirama Senju, when one of the first things he did after meeting you was convincing your teenage ass to piss into a river together.
Sakura chose a simple white dress and ballet flats this time. Nothing eye-catching but still very much her style. She made a point of choosing outfits she felt comfortable in, so she didn't exude the same self-consciousness she did at the after party two days ago. The fact that wrong wardrobe choices clearly made her maestro angry may have also played a role.
Although Sakura had to admit, having him touch her so intimately while getting her appearance in order was worth the disappointment she initially felt when she realised that he was angry with her. She may be naïve and sexually inexperienced, but even she knew that conductors spanking their musicians was not common practice. Tucking in her blouse so her dishevelled look wouldn't tarnish the good name of his orchestra was one thing; she even saw him yank on Naruto's loose tie once before a very important interview, so when he started arranging her clothes there wasn't anything sexual about it at first.
But the feel of his big hands as they traced the back of her thighs, inching closer to her behind where he would eventually deliver a sound slap on her left cheek was something completely different.
That was two days ago, and Sakura still didn't know what to think or how to feel about it. When Mr Uchiha returned to the after party a little after her and pretended like nothing happened between them, she took that as her cue to do the same. The only reminder was when Ino and Temari asked her about her sudden outfit change.
I guess now I finally know what Maestro Uchiha is like when he invokes rule number 2.
Her vague answer referring to the second item on his long list of obligations laid out in her contract seemed to have been explanation enough. After all, given their strict dress code, wardrobe changes were demanded often enough so as not to raise any eyebrows when it finally happened to Sakura too.
She learned her lesson, that's why she was waiting for their next rehearsal to start wearing one of her favourite and most inconspicuous dresses. They were in Shanghai at the moment for their second China concert which would take place in two days' time.
They've nailed all of their rehearsals so far, practiced for hours on end, and were at the top of their game. Their maestro couldn't be any prouder, at least that's what Sakura thought, until she saw him enter the stage with a frown so deep, you'd need scuba gear to dive down.
"Change of plans everyone, you're not getting Friday off, after all. We're playing in Shanghai two days in a row, and we're changing the programme for Thursday. We're ditching Holst and starting with Mozetich, take out your sheet music for Fantasia. Cellists, all eyes on Ms Haruno while she takes the lead. I need the accompaniment tenuto throughout the entire piece, you cannot be drowned out by the violins' legato. Chop chop, everyone."
While everyone scrambled to get their things ready, Sakura couldn't help but think that something was wrong. Maestro Uchiha was always strict and demanding, but he seemed to be in an especially sour mood today. Not to mention that changing the entire programme of an upcoming concert two days before was not something Madara Uchiha did. He was so meticulous and orderly, he'd probably be annoyed if raindrops suddenly started falling at a different angle. Not wanting to incur his wrath again so shortly after earning her first reprimand, she kept her head down and tried her best to meet his expectations during the rehearsal.
A feat which proved to be more difficult than she initially thought. Maestro Uchiha was annoyed by the slightest things, reprimanded his musicians for the tiniest slip-ups, and gripped his baton so tightly at times, his knuckles turned white.
Once their most exhausting rehearsal so far was over, everyone was quick to pack their things and leave, when Maestro Uchiha said, "I need a word with all the principals, the rest are free to go."
Ino and Naruto quickly caught Sakura's gaze, both of them shooting her questioning looks. Sakura just shrugged, equally confused. They gathered together with the rest of the principal musicians and stood in front of their maestro's podium.
"Due to unforeseen and incredibly annoying circumstances, I decided to change the programme for our Thursday concert. As you may have noticed, the seven pieces we're performing will heavily feature one of the principal musicians. We start off with Mozetich, which focuses on Ms Haruno as the principal cellist. Our next piece by Copland is your chance to shine as principal clarinet, Ms Yamanaka. Arutiunian will put the spotlight on our principal trumpet, and so on. In other words, we're pulling out the big guns for this one, so I cannot stress this enough: I need all of my principals to bring their A game. I know you do that for every concert anyway, but this… is different. Let's just say, I need to prove a point, so do not let me down."
While the other musicians gathered their things to leave, Sakura watched him put on his suit jacket out of the corner of her eye. Before leaving the stage, the conductor shot her a look and quietly said, "Ms Haruno, my room in an hour." Sakura barely managed the obligatory Yes, Maestro, too caught up in her own thoughts running rampant in her mind about what he might be needing from her at 8 pm in the evening, in his hotel room, in private.
"What crawled up his ass and died?" Ino whispered with an eye roll while packing up her instrument.
Sakura's jaw dropped in shock and she fixed the blonde with angry glare, "Oh my God, Ino, you can't talk like that, he's our conductor!"
"Oh relax, you fan girl. Even you have to admit he was exceptionally prickly today. Like pluck-that-string-wrong-and-I'll-pluck-out-your-eyebrows type of prickly. And the bar for that is already incredibly high, because Madara Uchiha was basically born prickly."
Sakura could hear Naruto snicker behind them as the trio went down the stairs on the left of the stage, making Ino groan in annoyance.
"Men and their weird sense of humour. You're imagining him as a cactus now, aren't you?"
"Yeah, but like, how can he conduct with his tiny cactus arms?"
Madara knew he was being insufferable. He never was particularly liked by his musicians – respected, yes, but liked on a personal level, not really – but during the last two rehearsals he did his utmost to qualify for the Condescending Jerk of the Year Award. Even little Ms Haruno was starting to sweat halfway through his symphony of exasperated grunts and annoyed eye-rolls.
If only he hadn't picked up that damned phone two days ago, none of this would be happening. He could have stuck to his original concert programme, enjoyed one or two relaxed rehearsals, and wouldn't be pacing up and down his hotel suite racking his brain over his request.
He may as well have asked Madara to chain her to a rock to be devoured by a sea monster, and Madara would still think Sakura's fate worse than Andromeda's.
A soft knock interrupted his train of thought, and he went to open the door for his late-night guest. When his intense gaze landed on his little protégé and her doe-like eyes, he couldn't help but ask himself – what was his role in all of this? Could he be the Perseus to her Andromeda?
Or would Cretus once again rise from the depths of the sea and plunge her into darkness?
"You asked to see me, Mr Uchiha?"
Madara wordlessly stepped aside and closed the door behind her. He took a moment to run an appreciative gaze over her slender figure and noted with satisfaction that she was once again wearing clothes she was clearly much more comfortable in. His gaze was drawn to her short pleated skirt as it swirled around her legs when she turned to face him. There was a soft, pastel pink cashmere sweater tucked into the waistband that was a size too large for her, as it was currently in the process of slipping off her left shoulder.
Madara had seen and done a lot of erotic things in his 39 years on this earth but watching something as trivial as a piece of garment expose her neck and shoulder had his dick twitch in anticipation like no porn ever could.
Thank fuck he had an actual reason to invite her into his hotel room this late at night or otherwise he would already have her face down, ass up.
"It's about our concert on Thursday. The reason I had to change it… was you."
Her eyes widened even more as she immediately started playing with the hem of her skirt. "Me? W-why? Did I do something wrong? I'll do better, Mr Uchiha, I swear!"
"Relax, you did nothing wrong. You're perfect," he stepped closer to sweep her hair behind her ear, "like always. I had to change the programme, because I got a call from someone who is going to watch us perform on Thursday, and I simply needed to make sure that he's… well, rendered speechless would be the ideal scenario, really."
"I still don't understand what that has to do with me."
"Because that particular individual happens to be a renowned music journalist and critic, and he will be writing a lengthy review of our first Shanghai concert, including an extensive interview with you."
Madara's gaze landed on her full lips as they moved to form a surprised little o, and to make things worse, his little protégé had the gall to go ahead and lick them.
"I've never given an interview, Mr Uchiha. A-and to be honest, I'm not sure if I'm up for it. I don't need all that attention and all the probing questions. What if I say something stupid? I don't want to embarrass you."
Madara had to supress a smirk at her words. The interview was supposed to be all about her, and yet she was afraid of embarrassing him. It was like this little girl was born with the sole purpose of pleasing him.
"I assure you there is nothing you could do to embarrass me."
"Not true, what about the last after party, when I wore something you didn't approve of?"
"You're right, but I made you regret that choice instantly, did I not?" A blush crept up her cheeks as Madara took a step closer, "I disciplined you," he raised his hand to her face while enjoying the nervous breath escaping her lips, "you took your punishment," he grabbed the back of her neck and twisted his fingers in her hair, "and you promised to never do it again," Madara tugged on her hair, forcing her head back and staring down at her, their lips only centimetres apart, "like the good little girl you are."
He allowed himself one more moment to drink in the sight of her innocent blush and her adoring wide eyes, before he let go off her hair and leaned on the desk on the opposite of his bed.
"The individual you will have the displeasure of meeting has, well… to say he holds a grudge against me would be the understatement of the century. He will do anything in his power to try to get under my skin, and the fact that I noticed you did not go unnoticed by him, so I'm sure he's hoping to use that to his advantage."
"So you're saying the only reason he wants to interview me is to spite you and not because he's really interested in me as a musician?"
"No, sweetheart," Madara put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed them as a show of encouragement, "one would have to be blind and deaf not to notice your musical gift. As much as I hate his guts, he does have an eye for talent, I have to give him that. If I weren't your maestro, he'd still want to interview you, it's just this way he gets to kill two birds with one stone."
Madara watched his little protégé pull her bottom lip between her teeth, and his dick immediately sprung to attention. Brushing his fingers over her shoulders clearly did little to calm her down. If he didn't already think she was nervous about the interview, she gave it away the instant she started playing with the end of his tie.
"I'm too shy to give such a high-profile interview, I really wouldn't know what to say. And I really don't want to embarrass you, Mr Uchiha, so um… Can you… can you, maybe, I don't know," Madara watched with utter fascination as she twisted the end of his tie around her index finger, "can you teach me?"
The question came out as a shy whisper, but their faces were close enough for him to hear it.
"Teach you what, little girl? You'll have to be more specific, because I can teach you a lot of things."
Madara watched her suck in a breath at his little innuendo. He knew he was pushing his luck, everything about their proximity and the way he was talking to her was wrong and if she weren't such a lovesick puppy, she would have reported his inappropriate behaviour ages ago. But he couldn't help himself around her. For the first time in the nearly four decades he had spent on earth so far, he was falling victim to the danger and allure of the forbidden.
His hazy mind barely registered when his protégé opened her mouth. "Well, um… You know, things like…"
A shaky breath. A tongue sweeping out to wet her lips.
"What-… what to say and what not to say, or… or things like…" hesitant eyes travelled up to meet his own.
"Body language."
Fuck.
Madara had a thing or two to say about body language, alright, their own body language at this very moment, to be precise. Sakura was still standing between his legs, nervously playing with his tie, much like she did a few days ago when he was fixing her outfit. It was moments like these when a part of him questioned whether or not she really didn't know what effect she had on men like him with a behaviour like that. Her innocence was believable and authentic enough to land her a part in Sesame Street, but then she had to go ahead and whisper body language like that – what was a man to think?
"Body language, huh? Alright, let's start with the most important lesson on body language. For an interview, you want to seem approachable, but not too much. You can use your body to create a necessary distance, to signal the other person certain parts of you are off-limits. One way to do that is to make sure you don't show too much skin, an unwilling openness a reporter is only too eager to exploit."
Madara's right hand left her shoulder and made its way down her arm to grab the low hanging neckline of her sweater, slowly dragging it up while making sure to brush as much of her soft skin with his fingers.
"Wearing a sweater that constantly slips off your shoulder is not the way to do it, little one. What did we say about dishevelled outfits?" Madara fixed her with a stern gaze.
"Not to wear them, and I know I'm going to wear something more professional for the interview, but I didn't think that you would mind me wearing the sweater now. I thought you would like it," Madara heard her voice become quieter and more unsure toward the end, much like it always did when she was asking for his opinion.
The only logical thing for him to do as her maestro was take away that uncertainty, the only way he knew how.
"Oh, I'm afraid I like it too much, princess. Don't think I haven't noticed your effort to dress comfortably and appropriately the last few days. I'm very happy my lesson stuck."
Madara took her chin between his fingers and raised her face. "Good girl."
When he saw the telltale smile and blush spread across her face, Madara knew it was worth playing with fire.
Now to pour some gasoline on it.
"Say thank you, Sir," he commanded in his gruffest dom voice.
Naturally, his little sub immediately obliged.
"Thank you, Sir."
Her whispering was going to be the death of him. Madara released his protégé and went straight for the bar at the other end of the room in order to gain some distance. Or maybe it had something to do with the fact he was sporting a raging hard-on for a 20-year-old she was not supposed to see.
"Of course, Deidara will be in charge of most of the media mumbo-jumbo, he'll also get a say in your outfit, but if it were up to me, I'd button you up to your nose, maybe even send you to the interview in a straitjacket."
Madara drowned the shot of whiskey as if it had the magical ability to calm his libido, which of course it didn't, especially when he heard Sakura's melodious laughter behind him.
"But Sir, you can't put me in a straitjacket. You said yourself, this reporter is a renowned music journalist, and you only want to present yourself and the orchestra in the best possible light. I admit, a baggy sweater would not have been my go-to look, but a straitjacket doesn't really scream take me seriously either."
"I don't know, I quite like the idea of a straitjacket. At the very least, we can put him in it, so he won't be tempted to touch you."
Madara had meant it as a light-hearted joke, but he immediately regretted his choice of words when he saw her playful smile crumble.
"Why-why do you say that? Is he known to… touch women? You wouldn't put me in the same room as someone like that, would you, Sir?"
He bridged the distance between them in three quick steps and immediately grasped her face between his hands to rub soothing circles on her cheeks. Madara hated the whole idea of the interview, but that was no reason to rile her up. Kicking a puppy probably couldn't feel worse than being the one who put worries and doubts in her head.
"Never, little one. I would wring anybody's neck who so much as looked at you wrong, I would never put you in any danger, trust me. I'm sorry for my poor choice of words, I absolutely didn't mean them in that way. As much as I hate… that person, he is nothing but an absolute gentleman, and I can assure you he has tremendous respect for you. You're going to be wonderful at the interview, I know it. You could just sit there doing nothing and he would sing your praises."
"I believe you. But then what did you mean with that part about him touching me?"
Madara contemplated a few short seconds what to answer to that question. Of course, the simple truth was he was just being a dumb, territorial gorilla, but he would rather do shots out of Naruto's belly button than allow Sakura to think of him in a simian fashion.
"Let's just say, I know him from my childhood, and he always revelled in stealing my toys. And I told you when I signed you on, I tend to be rather possessive of my musicians."
That seemed to have been the right answer, judging by the grin tugging on her pretty little lips. Before Madara could say anything that would dig himself deeper into the hole he called sexual frustration, he grasped Sakura's arm and gently turned her toward the door.
"I'm sure I've given you a lot to think about. Take the rest of the evening to think things through about the interview, maybe think of questions that are off-limits, so we can make sure there won't be any unpleasantness. Tomorrow, we'll get together with Deidara and his PR team, he'll straighten out the rest."
As he was about to open the door to usher her outside, she turned around one last time, her skirt enticingly flowing around her slender legs. "What about the tips you were going to give me? You know… the training?"
"Miss Haruno, if I were to teach you everything I know, you wouldn't get a wink of sleep tonight."
"You'll want to avoid words like never and always, or any kind of absolute statement for that matter. You a Star Wars fan? Never mind, there's this character who wisely said that only a Sith deals in absolutes. Siths are the bad guys in Star Wars, FYI. So instead of saying 'Maestro Uchiha is always rude to us during rehearsals', you want to say things like 'We are eternally grateful for his constructive feedback and his willingness to help us improve our craft', see the difference? Another thing they like to do is talk about your fears, vulnerabilities, weaknesses, yadda yadda yadda. The best way to answer these questions is like you would answer them during a job interview. So don't bullshit around with some made-up weakness, that is actually a strength like 'I am very focused on details and therefore sometimes need longer for an assignment'. Journalists can smell bullshit a mile away, and this particular one is like a genetically enhanced bloodhound. What you want to do instead is be honest, but not too honest. You're not going to come out and say you have a crippling porn addiction. Choose something that seems like a genuine weakness, but nothing too major that would inhibit your performance. And most importantly, follow it up with a statement underlining how you're already working on bettering yourself. A good example would be 'Sometimes I am too direct with my feedback and criticism and my colleagues may take it the wrong way, but I've already learned to word it in more neutral terms, so nobody gets offended'. Are you writing any of this down?"
Sakura could feel herself shrinking under Deidara's disapproving gaze. Quickly grabbing the pen she brought along to her tutoring session, she continued writing down the tips he was giving her in preparation for her interview.
"Next, questions about your private life. We are not politicians, so don't even pretend to be one with those 'I can neither confirm nor deny it' answers. You should give him some sort of answer, otherwise you'll seem unapproachable, but you can control how many details you want to give…"
Sakura droned out the publicist's voice while staring absentmindedly at the presentation slides. In her mind, she knew what the words really meant, but in her subconscious, they re-arranged themselves to form an entirely different sentence.
If I were to teach you everything I know, you wouldn't get a wink of sleep tonight.
That could mean anything, right? It could take him all night to teach her all about whiskey for instance, or the difference between a two-stroke engine and a cylinder. If they were to talk about music, that may have taken them several nights in fact, not just one, because he was a bottomless well of knowledge when it came to that.
But it couldn't mean…that.
Sakura was chewing on the other end of her pencil while still pretending to be enthralled by whatever Deidara was saying. The fact of the matter was, Sakura was his protégé. Their professional relationship was bound to take a different turn compared to the way he handles all his other musicians. Mister Uchiha said so himself, it was his duty to train her, to mould her to be the best possible version of herself. He couldn't do that if he wasn't allowed to give her a little bit of extra attention every now and then. And she never had an official mentor in that capacity before, Tsunade certainly never called Sakura her protégé. What's more, she was embarrassingly inexperienced when it came to physical intimacy with the opposite sex. The line between appropriate touches and those that bordered on intimate seem to be drawn differently for every person, at least if her friends' stories were to be believed, and it couldn't be more confusing to her to try to understand when that line has been crossed if you explained it to her in Latin.
Sakura shook her head and tried to re-focus her attention on Deidara's media training, but it was to no avail. In her mind, she kept replaying last night's visit to her maestro's hotel room and how he comforted her by stroking her cheek, or how he teased her by slowly dragging up her sweater up her shoulder.
Sakura had no idea what they meant, but she knew one thing: Lying was a cardinal sin, and she would end up in the deepest pits of hell if she were to ever tell anyone she didn't enjoy Mister Uchiha's touches.
It was time to cash in on her friendship with the promiscuous principal clarinet.
"I'm confused, why are you asking me all these questions? Sakura, did someone touch you inappropriately? If so, that's a major offense and we need to report it ASAP."
Sakura felt her panic rise as Ino stared her down with a worried look in her eyes. This was not the direction she planned this conversation to take. She knew she was a klutz when it came to talking about physical intimacy, but this was awkward even by her standards.
"No, no, nothing like that. I'm fine. It's just, that… I saw two people from the stage crew, they looked cosy with each other, and I was just wondering, you know, if that means they… like each other, or anything…"
The blonde musician breathed a sigh of relief. "Phew, for a moment there I thought I was going to have to pull out a doll and ask you where you've been touched. But seriously, jokes aside, if anybody makes you feel uncomfortable, in any way, it doesn't even have to be physical, you let me know, or any of your other friends. Or better yet, tell Mr Uchiha."
Threats of wringing people's necks suddenly popped into Sakura's head. Telling Mr Uchiha anybody made her feel uncomfortable, even in the slightest, was a battery charge waiting to happen.
"Thanks for the tip. But seriously, what does it mean if a man puts his hands on a woman's shoulders? It seemed…comforting. But I basically have zero experience with that kind of stuff. Naruto is always teasing me that guys could have I'm sexually attracted to you tattooed on their forehead and I wouldn't get that they're flirting with me."
"It could mean anything. Couples touch each other on their shoulders, much like friends do. Even colleagues, who have no relationship outside of work, might comfort each other like that if someone has a rough day. It depends on the person who's doing the touching. With Naruto, for instance, it doesn't mean much, because he's insanely physically affectionate. He hugged you the day he met you, and he regularly shows his affection with small physical gestures. Doesn't mean he's attracted to you. Shikamaru for instance was different. He was your predecessor. He was always too lazy to make new friends or even show his appreciation for the ones he already had, so in the rare instances he would hug or comfort someone, it really meant a lot. Does that help?"
Nope.
Sakura had no idea what the normal scope of Mr Uchiha's physical affection was. Sure, he was always meticulously professional during rehearsals and public appearances, but it wasn't like Sakura had the means to ask his friends how he behaved in private. And she couldn't very well ask Ino what it meant if a conductor touches his protégé's cheek or pulls up her sweater.
It could really just be harmless comforting of an inexperienced and nervous musician. Sakura was, after all, his protégé, she was already treated as the orchestra's most recognisable poster child, she was about to give her first major interview. Mr Uchiha was just covering all of his bases and making sure she was representing him to the best of her abilities.
Yeah, that had to be it. The more Sakura thought about it, the sillier she felt for even entertaining the thought there could be more behind her maestro's touches than the simple comfort and guidance a mentor feels obligated to give his students when he sees them struggling. Mr Uchiha was, after all, so very much out of her league and she would have to mature at the speed of light to catch up with the women he was probably interested in.
Sakura couldn't supress the laugh that escaped her lips at the thought as she put her arm around her friend. "You're right, Ino. I'm hugging you now, doesn't mean I'm suddenly going to start developing romantic feelings for you."
The blonde just shot her a seductive grin. "Be careful what you wish for, baby."
They were brilliant.
Of course, they were always brilliant. It was his orchestra, after all. But Madara had to hand it to his musicians: Tonight, they were magnificent.
He couldn't remember the last time he felt anything akin to nervousness before a concert, but tonight's special guest set his teeth on edge. Everything had to be absolutely perfect, or he would have never heard the end of it in his next article.
Strutting proudly around the backstage area and congratulating his ensemble for a performance well done, he was headed straight towards his dressing room, where the highly unwelcome intruder was waiting for him. Only when he opened the door, he was nowhere to be seen.
"Madara, there you are." Hearing his supposedly best friend's voice was always a sensation similar to nails scraping on a chalk board. Madara never missed a chance to remind him of that fact, too.
"Hashirama, you know I hate it when you yell like-"
"I know, I know, don't get your conductor's panties in a bunch. Pretty sure the interview's already started, so I'm sure you're free now. Let's go grab a drink to toast tonight's concert, you guys really were amazing. Come on."
Madara's arm reached out to grab the man's shoulders, digging his fingers uncomfortably into his skin. "What do you mean, the interview's already started? He said he made an appointment for tomorrow."
"I'm pretty sure I saw him enter her dressing room just a moment ago. You know how he is, he likes to catch his prey off guard. But don't worry, I'm sure your PR team briefed her and everything, she'll do fine. And if not, it'll be a baptism by fire. Better learn from the tough ones, he'll raise the bar so high, she'll never complain about another interview partner again."
Madara was sure if he could grind his teeth any harder, they would splinter into a million tiny pieces. The thought of Sakura alone with him, completely caught off guard, goaded into talking about things she wasn't prepared for made his hair stand on end.
He quickly navigated the maze of dressing rooms until he found the door with her name on it. Madara could already hear their voices seeping through, and to his surprise he even heard Sakura's telltale giggle.
Not bothering to knock, he swung the door open and found his protégé with a bouquet of flowers in one hand, the other trying to hide the grin on her face, which was clearly reserved for the man in front of her.
When Sakura saw him enter, her playful expression changed into a surprised one when she happily exclaimed, "Mr Uchiha, look, I got flowers! I don't mind giving interviews if they all start off with such a nice gesture."
She shot her interview partner a grateful look, which only made Madara's insides boil.
"Trust me, Miss Haruno, flowers are a special gesture reserved for buttering up only my most interesting interview partners."
Great, he flirts now, too.
Just as he was rolling his eyes in annoyance, the man in question turned to finally face him with a knowing smirk on his face.
"Long time no see, Madara."
Madara puffed up his chest and let out a disapproving grunt as he eyed his worst nemesis.
"Tobirama."
