Madara fought, hitting, slashing, kicking everything that moved around him, half the time having trouble differentiating Senju from the Uchiha in the foggy darkness. The storm was still raging, the sky in different shades of gray and silver, occasional purple, leaving them in dark, even though it was still daytime. Or so Madara thought. How long have they been fighting, even? One moment, it seemed like Mego had just told him to take care an hour ago. Another, like it's been days.
Lighting struck not too far away, brightening the scene for a split second, before leaving them in the mercy of thunder's roar and, once again, darkness. In that instant, he managed to catch a glimpse of a water style jutsu being used. Tobirama.
"Shit." He cursed under his breath, effortlessly avoiding an attack of the Senju man attacking him. The rain was perfect for water style.
Tobirama must have been fighting Izuna. He didn't need to go all out with his powers against many other shinobi. Madara rushed his own battle, finishing the unlucky Senju, in order to aid his brother as soon as possible. Izuna was a good warrior, but he never once beat Madara, and Madara, himself, had a lot of trouble fighting Tobirama. The bastard's water style was excellent, and he managed to amp his speed to the point where Sharingan barely caught up.
Still, he must have been very aware that Madara could kill him despite all that, so he actively avoided engaging him in combat. Which was just depressing. Personally, Madara would pay good money for an opportunity to kill the jerk.
He was close, almost there to jump in between them in time and fuck up the younger Senju's day. Gods, how he despised that bastard… But was prevented from doing that, when Hashirama stood before him, taking a fighting stance. None of their dreams, plans, hopes of friendship mattered out here. All they aimed for at the moment was each other's blood.
Now, Hashirama was an opponent that forced one's focus to stay solely on him. Fighting him, Madara had no space to watch out for the others, he needed every ounce of energy to keep himself alive and to fight back. He didn't think himself inferior to the man. He was able to inflict a lot of damage whenever they fought, but he received a lot in return. He never really lost to Hashirama, but he couldn't best him either. It was frustrating, infuriating, exhilarating and it made him feel more alive than anything else.
Having been preoccupied with his own fight, he thought to check on his brother only when he could no longer hear water style for a while. He did it, he beat Tobirama. Madara thought, letting the feeling of pride overcome him prematurely. Finally. He managed to push back against Hashirama enough to buy himself a few moments, and looked over at where Izuna should have been standing. But wasn't.
His brother was on the ground, lying, bleeding, the lively red of his Sharingan dimmed. Madara's eyes searched for Tobirama. The man's back was turned to him, as he fought another Uchiha. As on que, Hashirama ran to attack him, yelling, as to prevent him from going after his own younger brother. But Madara could no longer be stopped.
He fought back with all his might, punched and cut and blazed fire everywhere, just to remove the man from his path. He ultimately managed that when Hashirama fell, stupefied, and he moved on to get to Tobirama, leaving the other to the shinobi of his clan. They wouldn't hold him down for long, but they'd buy him some time.
Once he reached the white haired boy, Madara did his best to tear him apart. Being wounded and tired, Tobirama lost some of his agility. One of his arms rested limply on his side, and the other held his sword. He couldn't even use his jutsu anymore. Still, he was fast, living up to his reputation, and he managed to avoid certain death a few times during Madara's outlash.
"Fallback!" Shouts resonated through the meadow they were at, and he caught a glimpse of the Senju running back to where they came from. All of them that were still alive, except one. He saw the way Hashirama screamed at him, as his own kinsmen dragged him away from the battle, while Madara wrapped a chain around kneeling Tobirama.
He handed the young Senju to two Uchiha men to take him back to the camp, while he went to look at Izuna. He looked at his brother's body for a few moments like he would at any other corpse. His soft face was already growing paler, eyes open but still as, well, death. He understood that Izuna was dead, but… Maybe…
He crouched down and touched the boy's arm. Cold. Nothing. He tried once more, and again, until he started crying in desperation. He hugged the body, sobbing at its limpness, holding his brother's head from falling back.
Tajima slowly approached him, standing silently by his side. To Madara's surprise, he didn't interrupt him for quite a while.
"Take him and let's go. Your wounds have to be looked at." The man said gently, placing a hand on Madara's shoulder. It took him some time, but he obeyed. Standing up, he picked up Izuna, and slowly followed his father back home. Once or twice he saw Tajima lift his arm to wipe his own tears, but he said nothing nor did he look at his son's corpse again. That probably would have beat all the stoicism he had managed to collect so far.
….
With his torso covered in bandages and stitches, the wound on his arm open again and stitched up, again, Madara made his way home. Tajima had gone to see that Tobirama is locked up and handled properly.
Walking down the mud road, with night breeze on his face, Madara half expected his brother to pop up beside him and start pulling one of his many attempts at making him laugh. Heading home at night reminded him of the time they went drinking and dragged each other home, barely able to stand from intoxication. Sad snicker erupted from his chest. The more he repeated to himself that Izuna was dead, the less he was ready to believe it. He inhaled a deep breath, trying to keep the lump in his throat down.
As he reached the wooden stairs to his house, he suddenly found himself feeling even worse. Mego. He had to tell her she had been widowed. Walking to hers and Izuna's bedroom, he couldn't help but hope she was asleep. Maybe, he could just head to bed and let someone else tell her before he wakes up? He had no idea what to say. Well, he knew what to say, but not how to say it! And why did he even have to deal with this?! He was mourning, suffering enough as it is, how did telling Mego end up being his responsibility?
He knocked on the door, waiting to see if she was awake. There was no response.
Slowly, he opened the door and let himself in. No candles burned there, the only light were scarce blue rays coming from the moon and through the window. All he could see were shapes of furniture around him and a curled figure beneath the sheets. Madara walked over gently, and stood by the bed, still wondering whether he should wake her. She was just married a month ago, why did he need to break such horrible news to her? How would she react?
Tajima pointed out that beside Izuna, he had spent most time with her and that it made sense for him to break it to her. Still, Madara was never good at consoling anyone, much less someone he didn't know that well. How was he even supposed to behave once she starts crying? And why did he even have to worry about her grief?! His own was far greater. She lost a husband she barely knew, he lost the person he lived for. He should be consoled.
"You're back." Sleepy voice whispered, and he frowned as a warm hand gently took his own. "Are you hurt?"
She thinks I'm Izuna. He understood, suppressing tears, as his throat burned to release them. If only I was… He squeezed her hand.
"Mhm-mm." He denied, not saying any proper words for that would give him away.
"That's good." She smiled very lightly.
Moments later, she was asleep again, so Madara guided her hand back to her side, and left the room. There was no way he could do it.
….
"Does Mego know?" Father asked him in the morning, while they sat on the porch. The foggy, cold weather matched their mood, while steam from the tea twisted in the air between them. They needed to hold funeral for Izuna and the others who fell, and Madara felt like even just being awake was tiresome enough.
"I'm not sure."
"You must tell her, she has to get ready for the funeral." Tajima pointed out what Madara already knew. He just hated the idea of doing that. Still, he got up and made way for her room.
The door was slightly ajar when he got there, so he just let himself in, to find his sister in law sitting on her bed, her hair loose, still disheveled from sleep, dress worn messily, back hunched and turned to him, as she cried into her hands.
So, she had heard it from Sumi, already.
"Sister in law…" He called softly, his own voice seemed barely recognizable to him. Her eyes were red, dark circles purple and nose running. She sniffed, facing him.
"Brother… in law." She responded, her sobs making her words break.
"We have to get ready. It's time."
Mego nodded, then turned away from him and continued to weep. He let her.
….
Days seemed to somehow melt into one another as they passed. Nothing was happening, the household was silent, gloomy, the storm still raged over the camp. Mego sat curled up on a chair, wrapped in a blanket, and read a story. She wasn't invested in it. It bored her and she didn't like it, just as she didn't like the simple gray robes she was obliged to wear, as well as her hair let down with no accessories.
How did this happen?
Just last week, she was happy. And now… she was miserable. A question roamed her mind over and over again: Why Izuna? It could have been anyone else. Why, of all people, did she have to become a widow? She was too tired and too scared to willingly think about what comes next, but the thoughts creeped into her head nevertheless. How would her status in the house change, did her parents have the right to arrange another marriage, if they did, would she even want to accept it?
Hot tears stung the corners of her eyes, as she fought to suppress them. She felt as if she was being unfaithful to Izuna by thinking these thoughts so soon after his death, yet she couldn't help but wonder what will befall her now.
"Your parents are here." Sumi informed her, offering a reassuring smile. Right. Mego slowly stood up, swallowed her tears and started making her way to the receiving room to greet them, the handmaiden trailing behind her. They had all met at the funeral, but that was no place to reminiscence and chat. To think this marriage she had so anticipated didn't even last long enough for her family to visit. Once more, sorrow overwhelmed her, and she had to regulate her breathing since they had almost reached the guestroom. She didn't want the others to worry for her.
She felt lightheaded and weak, but chose to ignore it. She had spent nights crying herself to sleep and days torturing herself with thoughts, so she didn't find it too surprising that she felt unwell. She had never been through something like this before. She had lost her brothers, but was too little to seriously understand the implications of their death. Being a grown up was much harder than she thought, after all.
"My lady!" Sumi yelled all of a sudden, grabbing her by her shoulders. Her parents, another maid and Madara came rushing down the hall towards her.
"Can you stand?" Sumi carefully asked, earning a confused look from Mego. She didn't even feel she had fallen, or that she was leaning on the girl for support.
"Oh… Yes, I… I think so." She placed her hand on the wall for support and straightened up. "I am fine." She tried smiling – it just didn't seem to have been very convincing. Her mother almost knocked her back down with a hug, and guided her towards the receiving room and the nearest seat, all the while insisting she goes to see a healer as soon as possible.
So much for not worrying them.
….
"Sumi went to my house today, she'll—" Mego paused, taking a careful look around to make sure no one listened. "She'll look for the scroll."
"Good." Madara nodded. The two of them were making their way to the tent of the lady called Shime, one of the clan's healers. Only when they started planning her trip to see the woman, she was made aware just how miserable her position truly was. She was banned from leaving home, for whatever purpose, unless accompanied by her brother in law. She had, obviously, complained about the unfairness of such a custom to her mother, who was swift to remind her that the clan had many widowed women and they all conformed to it.
"So what are you going to do with those scrolls, anyway, when they're so important?" She asked, trying to get her mind off the thoughts that upset her.
"I'll burn them."
Mego didn't press the matter any longer, even though that answer only birthed more questions for her.
It didn't take them long to reach their destination and meet up with her mother and father. The healer came out soon after, greeting a patient as she watched them leave. She was an older woman, probably in her early fifties. Her skin was warm toned, hair almost completely gray and eyes, as typical for the Uchiha person, black.
"Does anyone want to come with?" She asked the present party. Mego saw her mother take a step forward, but she stopped, and signaled for Madara to go instead. Well, that was only proper, as his was the family Mego belonged to now.
"Lay down, dove." The healer said gently, and Mego did, looking at Madara as he loomed in the corner. "And how are you doing, young man?" She pinched Madara's cheek, causing him to protest, then went to get something from one of her many shelves.
"Fine."
"Well, you better stay that way. I have stitched up that gash on your arm so many times, I think I could do it with my eyes closed now."
Mego grinned to herself, finding it funny to watch someone treat her stoic brother in law in such free, motherly way.
"What troubles you? Any pains, discomfort?" She asked, standing by the bed Mego was lying on.
"No, I feel fine."
"Maybe feeling too fine made you lose consciousness?"
Mego frowned. It was funny watching her talk down to someone else. She didn't find it too endearing when it's done to her.
"I guess I'm… just tired, and stressed. My h-husband died…" She finished quietly.
"I heard. Mine did when I was young too, I thought I'd never get over it. Look at me now." The healer talked on, pressing her fingers in Mego's neck, then lower. "Blood?" Mego jerked in spot abruptly, not sure if she did because of the sudden change of topic or because the lady was feeling her breasts. She glanced over at Madara, who, luckily, was too busy staring at the many jars and bottles on the wooden shelves.
"Blood?" She asked shakily.
"Do you bleed regularly?" The woman repeated herself as a matter-of-factly, following Mego's gaze, easily assuming she felt embarrassed before Madara. "Don't you bother with him, he knows all about that."
He sighed and cleared his throat, but didn't turn around to look at either of them. His discomfort made his sister in law feel at least a little better. She went to say yes without thinking, but halted, as it came to her. No… She remembered she had bled sometime very soon after the wedding, and should have already gotten her period again.
"Usually, I do, but… Not this month."
"Well, good news is, you're not sick." The healer stepped away, signaling for Mego she can get up. "And more good news is, you're with child." She smiled.
