Author's note: I'm trying shorter chapters for this one.

Chapter 2: Comfort

There was nothing more peaceful than the sound of his calloused thumbs flipping through the rough parchment. Umika could hear it most prominently in the ebbs of the rain. The storm was beginning to lose its consistent fury. The steady downpour that had pounded the windows as she drifted to sleep was now replaced by a heaving of sorts. As if the skies intended to cry until every grey cloud had been cleared but could no longer keep their footing.

It reminded her of training. Her blade strikes began as a whirlwind of metronomic precision. But as time passed, they dulled. She would stop to catch her breath, only managing one or two strikes as her lungs burned for air. The desperate motions bought her enough time to recover a little of her lost strength. The next barrage would be quicker in frequency and quicker to fade. Each subsequent set would be even shorter. They would continue until her body collapsed with exhaustion, and he towered over her.

'You haven't been practicing.' She shifted under the sheets, trying to pull away from thoughts of his disappointment in her progress.

"I know you're awake." his deep, silky voice penetrated her makeshift cocoon. It brought a smile to her lips. She poked her head out of the covers and turned to face him. He sat in the window, eyes glued to his book.

"How do you always know?" she chirped.

"Because you snore."

Her brow twitched. It furrowed on her doe-ish eyes. Her words tripped over themselves in their hurry to the tip of her tongue. Where they slammed into an invisible barrier, dead in their tracks.

"S-snore?" She sat up in the bed, holding the sheets to her chest. "I do not!"

He chuckled at her frazzled response.

"I'm only joking. Even if you did, it would be the least of your worries. No man wants to come home to wet clothes at the door. And you still haven't cleaned the plates from last night."

"What do you care?" Umika turned away with a pout, flopping down onto her side. "You're never home." She heard him sigh. She heard the book close. The rain picked up for a moment, obscuring his footsteps towards her. She shuddered at the feeling of his hand on her back. He pushed his fingers against the yellowed bruising on her golden honeyed skin. She whimpered, muffling the sound in his pillows.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked, pulling the bedding away to reveal more of her. She covered her face with her hands and nodded. "I'm sorry." The rain slowed again, just as he pushed his lips to her battered figure, allowing her to hear the wet trail of kisses he left down her side. Even if he never lost his footing in battle, his emotions ebbed and flowed just like the skies. He laid by her side, gently tracing the tips of his fingers up and down her frame. She glanced at him over her shoulder. The bags under his eyes were more present than ever before. He hadn't been sleeping. He barely ate. The stress had been so severe the week prior that anger had been his only vector to relieve it. Umika turned toward him, laying bare the reminders of his rage carried by her body. He frowned, flattening his hand against her stomach. He slid it up her bruised ribs until he was cupping her breast. The skin around her areola was still healing from the deep bite marks. He mindlessly ran his tongue across his canines, searching for a hint of her blood. She cupped his face just as softly. Wiggling closer to him, her hot breath tickled his lips.

"Hokage or not, my loyalty will always be with you, Madara." she assured him. During times of great tension, Madara had become so accustomed to searching for comfort in her body that he had nearly forgotten what a potent elixir her words could be. For so long, he had yearned to fill her with the same warmth. Now he knew it was just wishful thinking. The best he could hope to offer her was security.

"There is a new kimono for you on your bed. Go make sure it fits. You have a courtship meeting tomorrow morning."

"Courtship?" Another frown shadowed her face. "I don't want to get married."

"It is not up to you." Madara snapped. She cowered into his chest. A clap of thunder echoed in the distance. "The Senju have extended a generous offer. You'll be married to Hashirama's cousin. Their main family. You will be protected from the politics that plague the rest of us."

"Why?" she bleated like an injured animal. "Why do I have to marry him?"

"So you can fill his house with children bearing the Sharingan."

"I want to stay with you." Her arms snaked past his ribs. They folded up, hands desperately clutching his shoulders.

"Umika." Madara tangled his fingers in her silky waves, closing his fist against her head and pulling it back as far as her neck would go. "Don't act like a child." he growled. "There is no place for you here."

"Please…I'll—I'll clean more." Tears slipped out of the corners of her eyes. One disappeared into the edges of her hairline by her ear. The other trailed down and across the bridge of her nose, fading just before it reached the opposite nostril. Her fluttered breathing shook his black bangs. He released her and slipped out of her hold. Heavy feet carried him back to his book.

"Tomorrow morning. Wake up early. Brush your hair for pity's sake."