Author's note: Oof, there were so many typos towards the end of the last chapter. I went back and fixed those. Do not recommend editing at 3 am. This one should be much better. Though, I'm sure I'll find something to edit.

Thanks so much, Dixi! Total early chapter drop just for you 3

Chapter 8: Please

"Let's just go." Umika begged Madara. She whispered even though they were the only two in the room.

"Be quiet." Madara instructed, taking a sip of the tea that had been laid out for them.

"I don't need to be—" She flinched when he grabbed her chin firmly in one hand. He pulled her face close to his.

"I said, be quiet." He glared until she averted her gaze, conceding their unspoken match. "You don't know what you need." He released her, feeling a small pang of guilt when she rubbed the tender skin with her fingers.

"Our apologies for the wait." Hashirama announced with the swing of his office doors. The black-haired Senju took a seat across from Madara, offering Umika a small smile. Kaito followed behind, taking his place next to Hashirama, and across from Umika. The girl kept her eyes fixed on her hands, which remained stiff in her lap. Tobirama and Kotaro were the last to enter, sitting on the same side of the table as their clanmates. An awkward silence fell on the party as they waited for someone to speak up.

"You called this meeting, brother." Tobirama began. "By all means."

"Yes, Madara, I asked you and Umika to appear because I believe an apology is in order." Hashirama quickly added. "Kaito and I had a long discussion about what was said, and…" Hashirama glanced over at Kaito, giving the boy his cue. The young Senju just stared back at his cousin with a questioning look.

"Tch!" Tobirama's hand gripped the back of Kaito's head and slammed the boy's forehead against the wooden table, causing Umika to jump. "Apologize, you imbecile."

"S-sorry…." It was a begrudging apology at best. Umika frowned at the lack of remorse. This man did not regret a single cruel word. She had every intention of ignoring it.

"We accept." Madara answered for her. She wanted to protest but remembered his earlier warning to her.

'Be quiet.' Madara did not like to be contradicted, and she wouldn't dream of undermining him in front of the Senju. "Have the preparations been made?"

"Yes, they're ready." Hashirama confirmed.

"Preparations?" she squeaked out, the earlier warning all but forgotten.

"I'll bring her things by tonight." Madara stood, heading for the door.

"Take your time. The important thing is to prepare for the Fire Lord's visit tomorrow. She can always burrow clothes from one of the women to hold her over." Hashirama walked to the door to see Madara out.

"What preparations?" A panic set in the girl. She stood to follow behind the men when Kotaro gently grabbed her by the arm.

"Come, Umika." the elder coaxed sweetly. He offered her a pained smile, knowing the girl had not been told. "You will be staying in your new home in the days leading to the wedding."

"N-no…Madara is my home." she answered, trying to pull away from him. She stopped when she heard a scornful laugh leave Kaito's lips. Tears threatened to spill from the edges of her eyes.

"I know change can be difficult, child." the elder comforted her again. "But you will see, it is a good change."

"M-Madara." she breathed out his name between anxious gasps. "Madara!" She screamed it next, pushing away from the man and bolting down the hallway until she reached the clan heads.

"Umika, go back." Madara ordered, unshaken by her pathetic state.

"Please don't send me away." she begged, falling to her hands and knees before him.

"Get up!" he snapped.

"Please! I'll do anything!" she screeched through heavy sobs. "Please don't leave me!"

"I told you, there is no place for you in my home." He turned away, stopping when he felt her small hands grip his shirt.

Let go, Umika.

"Please, Madara…you're my home." she cried.

Please let go.

Madara anchored his foot and turned, slamming his leg against the kneeling girl. He felt her ribs crack. He heard the blood gurgle in her throat before she spit it out.

"Madara!" Hashirama immediately reached for Umika, helping her up.

Please stay away.

"P-please." she blubbered through the tears and blood, slowly crawling towards him.

"Stop." Madara commanded, glaring down at the girl. Please stop, Umika. "So much as lean in my direction, and I won't hold back."

"Madara, this isn't—" Hashirama's momentary lapse in attention allowed the girl to shift just a bit closer to the Uchiha man, who immediately kicked her in the chest. Umika flew backwards, knocking her head against a wall. She laid on her side, letting out ragged breaths. Blood dripped from the cut on her forehead. It trailed down her eyebrow, catching the edges of her long lashes in the slow blinks of her fading consciousness.

"Injury won't delay your marriage." Madara called out to her. "Hashirama can heal your wounds. Don't prolong your pain." Her hand twitched. She struggled to move it, trying to reach for him. The rest of her body did not comply. "Huh…seems you're done."

"P-ple-ase…d-don't-t…g-go…."

Please just stop.

"Madara!" Umika jolted from her nightmare. She glanced around her strange surroundings. She was in a bed with a thick, white comforter. It was nothing like the thin, dark sheets Madara slept in. The room was well lit with four windows and bare walls. A far cry from the single-window, bookshelf lined room she was accustomed to. There was a small table with fruit set out, presumably for her. She stepped out of bed and noticed her foot first. There was nothing wrong with it. No cut, no bandage, no dull pain. She opened the white robe, examining the rest of her body. Her skin was perfect. The yellow-blue blotches were gone. So were the crusted scabs. She noticed her kimono draped over a chair, next to a clean, folded kimono. She picked up the dirtied, bloodied dress, instinctively reaching for her forehead. She searched for the injury, finding nothing.

'Hashirama can heal your wounds.' She fell to her knees in defeat. It was no nightmare. Madara had abandoned her. Banished her to the Senju's compound.

"Why?" she asked the ghost in her memories. She laid on the ground, curling her knees into her chest. She couldn't imagine what she had done to deserve this. She had served at his side loyally, staying even when large swaths of Uchiha began to defect. She had followed his every word like divine commandment. She had loved him.

Umika could still remember every detail of the first night they had spent together. It was after the founding ceremony. They were both drunk by the time they returned home. She had mistakenly stumbled into his room in the dark, and Madara had asked her to stay. He was so gentle with her then. His fingers were like air as they undressed her. His mouth had left behind no marks, only memories of indescribable pleasure. She had begged for him that night as well. And he had indulged her until the sun began to rise.

She chewed on her lip, remembering how distant he was the next morning. Like something was consuming his soul. He threw himself into his work. Sometimes he would return to her, just as gentle as he had been that night. They had made love a few times after training. Almost always in the field. Once, they were nearly caught by a few Senju. Madara had pulled her down behind the shrubs and held his hand over her mouth to stifle her moans. It was terrifying and exhilarating to feel him move in her as strangers carried on just a few meters away.

'Steady your breathing.' He had whispered to her through a conceited smirk. His intense gaze had pushed her over the edge.

She rolled her face away from the cold, wooden floor and laid on her back, staring up at the ceiling. That was the last time he had touched her so tenderly. As tensions in the village rose, he became almost cruel. He was less patient with her. He kept her at arm's length, even when they shared in each other's bodies. He became irate if she talked to him after. He would show her rare moments of regret…sometimes.

"Why?" she choked out again. She didn't understand it. She had loved him unconditionally. All she wanted was to be with him. If Madara would not have her, she had no home in this village.