"I want to obtain all of the techniques and gain a true understanding of this world. The first one to mix blue and yellow called the new color 'green'. I want to do something similar to that. If blue is chakra, then yellow is the seal, and green is the technique...Just as there is no end to the variety of colors, there are so many thousands...Tens of thousands of techniques in the world as well. But in order to obtain every possible technique and truth, it would require an eternity. Only one who understands everything after spending so much time on this can be fittingly called the ultimate being."
Orochimaru
The coast had always been a savage war front between land and sea. Heavy swells buffeted the coast, eating rocks and ruins alike, leaving a jagged shoreline like a maw of broken teeth. On the western flank the sea crashed against sheer cliffs and shard-like prtrusions. Ancient ruins wound through the cracks in the rock, echoing with the pounding of the waves.
Seabirds made their homes here in the myriad cuts and ledges–resident gulls and seasonal migrants. They all dived for fish in the rich, cold waters of the trench that abutted the island.
On the far side of the land-north, a slow sinking brought the sea gradually inland. Where once lowland forests and floodplains stretched, the high tides drowned the land momentarily. There were a few beaches in the inlets between the rocky headlands and treacherous mountains. These were the homes of fur seals and sea turtles.
Patrolled by huge predators and scavengers, these inlets were every bit as forbidding as the inland terrain to the human inhabitants.
The land's temperamental geology rendered its coast a crumbling maze of cliffs and and rocky towers jutting out of and over a savage sea. The jagged projections provided protected ledges for seabirds and other wildlife to nest upon and precipitous lookouts for predators to scan for prey below. There were many beaches on the land's coast, so competition for their use was fierce.
Katsu nodded to himself. He was proud of his home country. Proud of his clan.
The Lightning country was considered to be the largest country, or at least one of them. It was as wide as it was long, and it stretched up into the polar caps, practically. There were countries like Hurricane and Monsoon, that were three times the size of the Lightning country, but they were also out in the middle of the ocean surrounded by islands.
So, the Lightning country really didn't have a summer. Well, what one would consider a summer. The highest temperature ever recorded had been exactly eight six degrees, while the lowest ever recorded was below thirty five degrees. The average temperature laid around forty seven and to sixty degrees, often cloudy and rainy, considering they were high in the mountains.
Being a native, Katsu only needed a long sleeve shirt and a think coat to keep himself warm. In comparison, everyone else, including Arata, were wearing multiple layers and head wear in order to keep their ears warm. He didn't mock them, as there was no need. If he went anywhere that got above the seventy degree mark, he'd start to sweat and feel uncomfortable.
Despite the harsh elements, everything was going smoothly. He couldn't complain about the progress or how unified everyone had become in the effort to build Kumogakure. It just wasn't the shinobi or damiyo-it was the noble families, the influential families, the merchants, traders, farmers, and the common people.
It personified what Kumogakure represented and what it'd become. What it'd always be. A place of unity and security. Founded in the hope of the stability. No ranks or titles mattered-what mattered most was Kumogakure and the Lightning country at large.
Katsu crossed his thick arms in front of his chest, eyes pointed on the dock and harbor just a few meters away from his station. He wore simple attire to cope with the freezing rain and snow. A simple pair of baggy black trousers, thick sandals that covered his toes, a long sleeved shirt, over which he wore an assortment of layers, finishing it with a cloak that offered a hood to offer head warmth.
He absently wiped at the moisture splashing against his kin, sighing, he pulled his hood as far it could go forward. The weather was especially bad today, but it did little to stop them from making progress on preparations for the war and fortifying Kumogakure.
Everyone worked in tandem. Shainingu and Hageshii shinobi executed earth jutsus to provide cover from the elements, as well as acting as transportation hubs for supplies. The Uchiha used their fire jutsu to create a radius of heat where all the work was happening, providing blistering warmth in the bitter cold. For as much as the wind howled, and freezing rain wished to pelt, the Uchiha's fire was relentless.
The Yotsuki took a hand in everything that they could. From handling supplies, to building, to offering support. Their love and devotion to the Lightning country was clear for all to see. Every movement they made screamed of loyalty and pride. While they didn't seem the least bit inclined to be on good terms with some of the people gathered together, they still put Kumogakure and the longevity of the Lightning country ahead of their own petty misgivings.
The noble and influential families offered their funds and soldiers to lead things along. They had a hand in blueprints, layouts, and changes in architecture. A considerable amount of funds was going to firearms, guard towers, castles, battle fortresses, and the infrastructure of Kumogakure itself. A route from Kumogakure to the Lightning country was already being built.
Civilians, workers, and soldiers did the manual labor, with the assistance from shinobi on loads too heavy to handle or if the elements proved too dangerous. Often times, shinobi would take entire loads with two or three more with them, and it became a speedy process. Non shinobi hauled and handled everything to a point, before it was speared away efficiently by shinobi. Everyone pitched in an effort doing everything from preparing the sails on the boats, cleaning the decks, stocking and putting away supplies, directing certain areas of construction, offering support wherever they could, and even acted as messengers to deliver information to and fro.
So it wasn't a spectacle to see hundreds of thousands boats ready to set sail and get on their course. It wasn't a surprise watching everyone going about their daily duties. It made Katsu proud, and confident that everyone could get on the same page. Even Hajime was putting his wily ways aside for the moment to lead things along at a steaming pace.
He turned his eyes up and ahead. Far away, he stared. He stared. In the long distance. The tallest mountain. It was no longer just a mountain. Blue tile was embedded through the entire bottom of it, pressed firmly, that not even the fierce winds known to this land could rip them out. Windows, supported by yellow cement, overlooked the vast distance beyond, right at them. Behind those windows, was another set of windows, smaller, but more numerous.
Katsu hummed softly, the kani for Lightning country was painted proudly in the center of the yellow mass of cement, outlined by blue. It couldn't be a more fitting building in his opinion, in a more fitting place. The tallest and widest mountain peak, that oversaw all of Kumogakure. The office of the Raikage-the most important place within Kumogakure.
Within the Lightning country at this point in time since the damiyo was currently in there.
His mood soured, knowing Arata was there right now-in the Raikage seat.
However, seeing Koizuki coming towards him, Katsu entertained the thought of hastening his steps to escape the man. It was hard to say who was more dangerous between Koizuki and Hajime. Koizuki wasn't as eloquent with words, but he had the same ruthless brash that Hajime did. Katsu took the time to observe as the man approached, looking at the work going on around him.
He really had no opinion of this man. He wasn't manipulative like Tunoichi. He wasn't wily like Hajime. If anything, Koizuki had been one of the first to emphasize that they should focus on Kumogakure.
"Koizuki. What can I do for you?"
Koizuki drew his brows together, aware of Katsu's demeanor. The man was usually hard to deal with. Katsu was almost as prideful as Arata, and he was even more bold in some aspects, but at least, Arata, was approachable. Either way, it didn't matter to him, ultimately.
Katsu grunted, being presented with silence. He turned on his heel, staring at a boat some feet away. "So, Hajime doesn't know when to stop talking, and you are reticent?"
"Where do you see this going, Katsu?" Koizuki's voice didn't have a mocking quality or any judgment. There was only a curious wariness in there.
"Honestly, I am thinking long term. The Lightning country has always maintained stability. But, for that stability, we've sought after strength. It is for this reason that few shinobi clans have resided here."
"If shinobi clans had been allowed in the Lightning country, there'd be no way the power would be able to remain consolidated at it has?" Koizuki stated, more than asked. He was curious. He had to know what Katsu was thinking. He hated to think that they'd all start going after each other's throats in a bid for power, that could be done away by the Lightning damiyo.
"Indeed."
"Where does that put the Yotsuki clan?" Koizuki frowned in thought. "It's clear the damiyo and noble families have respect for you, and it isn't just formalities."
Katsu grunted, arms tightening across his chest. "The Yotsuki have always believed in the preservation of our land. There were once shinobi clans in the Lightning country, like the Senju, but we ousted them with the damiyo's forces. We don't serve the damiyo or the noble families, but we have mutual interests concerning the country. That'd be all."
"I don't buy it."
Katsu didn't look impressed.
"You say your clans shares mutual interests and or goals with the noble and influential families? With the damiyo himself? Perhaps once Kumogakure takes root in thirty years, there will be such a mindset...But, right now, there isn't such a thing. I'll ask again; where does the Yotsuki clan stand?"
Katsu narrowed his eyes.
Koizuki wanted to sigh, but he held himself back. He knew what kind of man Katsu was, and how to deal with such a man. Closed off, prideful, and stubborn. He was hard to deal with, certainly, but, once he got past all of those walls...
"We want the same thing in the end."
"Is that right?"
"Kumogakure is my home as much as it is yours. Certainly, none of this would be possible if our clans didn't come together. I want this village to be standing one hundred and fifty years from now. I want my name to be spoken by children not yet thought of."
Katsu tensed for a second, eyes steady on Koizuki.
He led him to a large, domed building-the table at the center of the room was small and low to the floor.
"You've caught my attention. You're not like Hajime." Katsu said with a heavy sigh.
Koizuki took a seat, crossing his legs. "I was skeptical at first, but Kumogakure is something else. To see our clans, the families, and the civilians working together..."
"Things have changed, drastically, but the change isn't over..." Katsu remarked.
"It would seem so."
Katsu considered something. "If Kumogakure is to stand one hundred and fifty years from now, what needs to happen?"
Koizuki drew in a breath. It seemed Hajmie had planted the seeds of doubt in Arata's leadership. Even though the man was certainly progressing things along rapidly, to such a rate the Lightning damiyo was more than pleased, there was still doubt. Arata awakened the Mangekyo, and taking control of a bole wouldn't be all that hard.
If he were to believe everything that is said and whispered about the Sharingan, Arata may have practically given himself the seat of Raikage.
"Solid leadership and security. We need to focus and consolidate our strength."
"Hajime brought something to my attention. I let it go in one ear and out the other, but I've been considering it lately.
"Arata's Mangekyo?"
Katsu's expression gave nothing away. He could feel the power radiating from those eyes. He knew enough about the Sharingan, and killed enough Uchiha to know its abilities. "It would be folly to not be wary of that man's eyes. If an Uchiha with a different mindset awakened it, I wouldn't be too concerned, but Arata..."
"Is dangerous." Koizuki finished.
"I'm worried that he's going to let the power get to his head."
Koizuki looked at the wall, eyes narrowing. As far as he knew they controlled the land ceded off to them. Of course, they couldn't move against the damiyo, but he didn't quite dictate them either, and they had their autonomy. Arata trying to kill the damiyo didn't really add up. He mulled it over and over again, wishing he had a cup of tea.
They both slipped into a silence. It wasn't awkward, tense, or good. It was just silence. They were sunken in their own thoughts, and that's where they remained for several minutes.
"Are you saying he's going to try and kill the damiyo?"
Katsu chuckled, smirking briefly. He was amused. "I wouldn't put it past him."
"That's folly, Kumogakure would fall to its doom before it ever flourish." Koizuki said brusquely, teeth gritting. "If it comes down to that we will have to kill him, for the sake of Kumogalure."
Katsu sighed softly, knowing that if things went down a certain way, there'd be no way around it. If things were going to go the way he was anticipating, they'd be given the order by the damiyo himself, or a middle man.
"He is arrogant, but he isn't foolish. The damiyo is a crucial part of Kumogakure, just as the Raikage is, just as Kumogakure is for the Lightning country. He understand this well. My concern isn't him trying to kill the damiyo, or any of the influential families, but the common people. The farmers, merchants, and traders. Lawlessness and depravity is common in the Fire country and other countries, but here, people like them are protected."
"Wielding his power like that would be grounds for treason. He'd be effecting the country's longevity." Koizuki muttered.
"Exactly." Katsu said, bluntly
Koizuki closed his eyes, starting to muse. Shinobi villages would be formed-nothing could stop it from happening, and Koizuki hated to admit that. He liked how things were now. The only thing left to do was put preparations in place once those other villages started trying to throw their weight around. It wouldn't be possible to contend with them if everyone was disparate.
"What are you trying to say?"
"You can't put the pieces together?" Katsu asked, looking annoyed. His arms tightened over his chest as he clenched his elbows.
"I'd rather you just tell me instead of going through this charade...It is going to be dangerous if we all start working for our own motives and goals, the damiyo is going to see it, or someone from his inner circle, and we will meet out doom. Those who act in such a way will be executed, it'll be for the good of Kumogakure. Of our clans that came together."
Katsu hid his bewilderment very well. He didn't trust any of the men that came together to form Kumogakure. They all had different goals, but Kumogakure was now the mutual thing keeping them together. It could be something great and extraordinary, or it could turn into the exact opposite. It all depended on how they handled things from this point on.
"Very well, I will be blunt with you.'
Koizuki only waited for the man to speak. Getting Katsu to break down one, or a few of his walls was hard enough. He didn't want to think of the repercussions should he wound the man by any chance when he is so exposed. Katsu wasn't going to lie or blend the truth-he was going to be one hundred percent honest with him.
A Yotsuki being honest with a Hageshii.
How the times have changed.
Katsu pondered how things could have gone differently. If they weren't here face to face, the chances of them being just that, were slim. His clan didn't leave the Lightning country, and the Hageshii stayed near the border if anything. Perhaps the only way for them to meet face to face was through the founding of Kumogakure.
It was an amusing thought.
"Arata may use his power and influence to terrorize the merchants and traders. To terrorize the women. He could become a jibbering drunk that doesn't care about Kumogakure or anyone but himself. He could become our enemy, and we may have to strike him down, if it comes down to that. Should the people start to protest because of his violence, the damiyo will be forced into action."
"He'd just be after money, but we're getting enough of that." Koizuki responded quickly.
"You forget that Arata will be drinking heavily, when someone is drunk, you can't reason with them. Arata is difficult enough as it is, imagine him drunk."
Koizuki mulled the words over. It sounded like something more akin to a warning, more than anything. Katsu was warning him-letting him know, that if he was going to follow a similar route, he'd be struck down just as swiftly. Truly, the man cared for Kumogakure and the Lightning country at large, and he was difficult, but Koizuki was thankful such a powerful man was his ally.
"It sounds like you've come to a conclusion to how this will unfold."
Katsu grunted. "I'm anticipating what the future may or may not bring. We must be prudent! The Water damiyo will be here soon enough. Scouts have spotted his ships in the far distance, fire and smoke surround his marine force. A black band of clouds surrounds them, and while I am certain there are such clouds-the dark clouds they speak of are kunai and shuriken. A band of Uchiha will defect, and Arata will be driven mad by power. He will need to be struck down. The Uchiha that remain will be a crucial part of the Kumogakure, since we will have the Sharingan."
Bold and brash as he was, Katsu was still a shinobi. Koizuki hid the smirk that crossed his face-Katsu was an opportunist. No wonder he was feared in combat-just when his foes thought he was done, he'd blitz them. But, just the same...The threat of the Water damiyo and those clans was something that couldn't be ignored.
It weighed heavy on all of them.
"Know that we are of a like mind. I know Kumogakure's value and its significance, though I am still skeptical."
Katsu took that at face value. "Let's go. The others should be nearing completion with the war preparations. We'll set sail in the coming days and launch the first attack."
Koizuki was surprised when Katsu didn't led him towards the highest peak, but led him towards one of the highest guard towards that'd been constructed centuries ago. Its ancient stone, covered in dust, frost, snow, and patches of white that could be thrashing and bracing against the elements for so long, gave it a terrifying look. It's like it made its claim on the land, and they were trespassing.
He was more surprised when Katsu gestured for him to follow.
Koizuki couldn't see more than a few meters ahead through the thick vegetation, but he knew they were close now. He could sense a power, calling to him from the impenetrable curtain of tangled vines, mountains of snow, gnarled trees, and twisted branches.
Suddenly they broke through into a clearing, a circle five hundred hundred meters across. In the very center stood a guard tower. The structure rose nearly two thousand meters to the sky, a monument of carved rock, cement, brick, and stone. The only entrance was a broad archway at the peak of an enormous staircase carved into an outside wall of the Tower itself.
Its surface was ancient, stark and dim, sullied by clinging moss, climbing ivy, and other vines. The grounds surrounding were wild trees and grass grew thick and strong. It was as if the surrounding forests wished to obliterate the tainted stone, but failed, so just settled on smothering it.
"I'd like to show you something." Katsu said, all his attention focused on the structure towering before him.
"How many of these towers are there!?" Koizuki couldn't hide his surprise-the tower looked like it was going to go into the clouds.
"Thousands. This one here is two thousand meters. The tallest is eighteen thousand meters. The smallest is four hundred meters."
Koizuki took a trembling step forward before stopping short. He shook his head to clear it. Presence was strong here, so strong it made him feel light-headed. That meant this was a place of danger; he couldn't afford to be wandering around in a stupor.
Katsu flared his chakra, igniting a wild flame in the center of his palm. Stepping through, he glanced behind him to make sure Koizuki was behind him. Vegetation was thick and tangled deep within the tower, a testament to how long it remained untouched. Even getting to it had been something of a struggle. Koizuki stayed close behind Katsu, not oblivious to the man's silent message.
It was in the highest level of the tower, far above some of surrounding woodland, that his stoic guide finally stopped. When he first stumbled into the room his attention was immediately drawn by the remains of a massive war table, but it was clearly beyond any hope of repair. And then he noticed something on the stone wall behind the desk
The surface was etched with a number of arcane symbols. They meant nothing to him, and he would have dismissed them without a second glance, but, Katsu kept his eyes on the symbols. Koizuki almost hadn't noticed it at first. It was subtle: a faint tracing of the edges of one of the unusual shapes that was actually an opening to view the outside. It was almost perfectly level with his eye.
Katsu's focus was outside.
He pulled out a spyglass, handing it to Koizuki.
Koizuki took it without reprieve, and set it to his eye. He tensed, taking a deep breath as he felt heat surround his right eye before a tingling overtook the heat feeling completely. It didn't look like much, and if he wasn't using chakra to enhance his vision, he would have just dismissed it. He would have thought it to be flies, or maybe a flock of birds in the far distance, but those flares...
That was fire...
And those growing clouds, were certainly storm clouds, but some of it was light...Hazy...
Smoke.
Shuriken.
Kunai.
And, if his eye wasn't playing tricks on him he was seeing...It looked like the ocean itself was moving, but, that couldn't be. It was the Yuki, Hoshigaki, and the Hozuki...Those were ice ships forcing the waves to crash like that. In the center of it-consuming the entire horizon, was a cacophony of chaos, and that had to be the Water damiyo's fleet.
It dwarfed all of those clans!
Koizuki removed the navigational tool from his eye, and caught the burning gaze of Katsu.
The man was ready for war.
Koizuki was relieved to have this man on his side.
"Let's go to the Raikage building." Katsu said, turning on his heel.
And, now the games begin. Koizuki thought.
He followed in stride.
Katsu clenched his teeth.
I won't let that Uchiha or bloodthirsty son of a bitch of a damiyo have their way...
Madara still couldn't believe it.
More than five clans had come together with the Domou and his own clan. Kumogakure had been founded, Hashirama's vilage was, or would be extremely soon. Everything had changed, and yet, things remained the same. Clans and countries, damiyos and lords-they were all still going to go war. He knew that what had been Mikito and him forming their union-marriage-their clans falling in line, it'd be something more.
Their code and ethics were strict and had to be followed, by every single person, and the punishment was harsh for those who strayed from what was set into place. This was an extra measure-a slap on the wrist wouldn't do.
However, he wasn't sure how some of these people, who were accustomed to the hard and rustic lifestyle that wasn't shinobi or warrior-like, would fair in what was to come. Of course, they didn't have to go out to fight in the wars-and no one under the age of thirteen was allowed to go out and fight in the wars, but everyone was still required to train. It was mandatory, if someone refused they'd be dragged and forced to train, that's as simple as it got.
There was no weak link.
Everyone was powerful, everyone was skilled.
He agreed wholeheartedly with the concept.
A lot of the people coming in were civilians that never got any sort of training, and if they did it was just the basics like the women. It was hardly enough to get by, it was just enough to get a sword run through or blown to bits. They could swing a staff around, but in sheer might or technique, they didn't even cause merit. The children would just be happy being able to train and release some energy-it was the adults that were going to be an issue.
A lot of these people had a peaceful life despite having to deal with bullshit of every single day-they didn't have to train and they weren't fighting in wars. They didn't make a fist or hold a sword. But, just the same, a lot these people didn't have a peaceful life, and had even killed their fair share of others-shinobi included.
It was mandatory and they had no choice but to train, if they didn't show up-pregnancy aside or any other extreme circumstance aside, they would be dragged out to train.
He worried more about the code and ethics. It was severe and strict, austere, and these people coming would have a choice to make. If they didn't wish to follow the code and ethics then they could take their leave-there would be no consequences if they took their leave at that point in time. But, if they decided to leave after this-hearing and acknowledging that they indeed do know the code, it was going to be a huge problem.
However, he could prepare for the coming mission easily knowing that all of the people coming in, even at this moment, were now in their homes-tree houses or large domes to be exact. The children were happy to actually see the tree houses, and were overjoyed to be in them once they got the chance to climb up into them. It wasn't like their usual homes which were wood or stone and on the ground.
Even more surprising and shocking for him was the fact Satoshi and all the Senju agreed to follow the code and ethics. Though, they had a lot of questions. It was a lot. Madara paused for a second, sighed, and remembered Izuna just barely snarling. He had almost snarled as well. He remembered them asking too many damn questions. He should have expected the Senju to ask so many questions-Mikito and the others looked calm, but exuded the same annoyance as he and Izuna.
There had been questions about them being able to wear their symbol. Being able to wear their symbol on clothes, headbands, sleeves, shoulders, boots, shoes, sandals, any garment that covered flesh. There had been questions and concerns about their clan being disbanded in some way, shape, or form, and this particular topic had gone on for about twenty minutes. There had been questions by the woman about being able to wear what they usually wear.
Some clans had a strict uniform for the woman, but they didn't. Everyone had to wear the same uniform in battle, but just relaxing, they could wear whatever they wanted.
The Senju women wore Cheongsam dresses for the most part. It was clear they were comfortable with their bodies and showing them off-more than comfortable with being sexual, if only slightly. The Uchiha women wore kimonos, yukatas, and things of that nature-covering up all skin, and while Senju women did have these clothes and wore them, as he had seen and heard, they favored these types of tight fitting dresses or qípáo tops and blouses for the most part.
Some clans frowned upon sexuality with their women and did everything to keep them covered. But, the Senju weren't just some clan. They were one of the most powerful and well balanced in the world. Their chakra and life force was explosive and powerful, and bold. The Senju women showed this in how they dressed and their overall appearances. The Senju women's figures reminded Madara of Domou women. Curvaceous, shapely, buxom, voluptuous, junoesque, bosomy, and busty.
Madara supposed to some extent he could understand. The Senju women were bold and had a lot of vivacity. He imagined they were virile as well like Uchiha women-it only made sense. While the women were nearly opposite in clothing choice, they were demure on both sides for the most part. Uchiha women were just more modestly dressed, if anything.
At least he didn't have to deal with Hashirama and Tobirama, or any of those other Senju. Evidently, this was a different breed of Senju. They were just as powerful-the men and women, and the boys and girls, though, there wasn't a powerhouse in their midst like Hashirama and Tobirama. Most of those Senju stayed behind.
He was only greeted with silence, and he turned to look at the person sharing the room with him.
Mikito sat on the bed, swords out of their sheaths, and running her whetting stone across the length of the blades. She was slow, precise, almost methodical. It was a stark contrast to her explosive, violent, but graceful swordplay on the battlefield. She hadn't said a word since the meeting ended. He valued silence and quiet, but he grew concerned when Mikito was silent.
She sheathed her blades, slowly, carefully, and moved to the mirror at the corner of the room. She carried her armor in one hand, tying her hair up with a yellow band using the other.
All the while, she was silent.
He hadn't thought much of it in the past. During the days of them battling like they were enemies, she had spent long-very long periods of time being totally silent. He had been on the bed, smoking from his pipe or drinking some sake. He didn't speak to her, and she didn't speak to him. It was mutually beneficial. But, looking back on it, Mikito had been...
"Mikito..." Madata trailed off, trying to search for words. He wasn't good with this sentimental stuff, even if Mikito was helping him with such experiences. "Are you okay?"
Mikito nodded, choosing not to talk.
"You're not talking..."
Mikito turned her gaze on him. Madara was surprised by the heat-the sheer ferocity in her gaze. It looked like she was a thousand pound feline about to lunge at him for the kill. He didn't react to her gaze, only meeting it with his own. After a few seconds, she calmed down, and looked away with a shine in her eyes. Honestly, she could get so emotional.
Madara debated if he should hold her or not. Mikito never expressed any desire for him to cuddle, as Izuna would often put it. They were intimate, but they weren't mushy. What he considered mushy. They weren't lustful or anything along that stretch of the imagination. They just both knew-knew why they were doing it in the first place.
She really did love him.
Wholly, selflessly.
He loved her as well.
Madara thought of stopping-his arm was finding its way around her waist. It was a little awkward, since she was trying to put on her armor. It was a crimson-like color, and the armor protecting her lower limbs, was more like a skirt than a few segments of plated armor like he and every other man wore in this era, if they chose to. Normally-well, in the marriage his father wanted him in, the woman would be wearing a kimono right now, and would be concerned about him returning from the battlefield.
But, Mikito was going there with him.
He wondered if his father would approve. The Uchiha respected strength more than anything, and Mikito was strong. Extremely so. He'd like to think his father wouldn't adhere to the patriarchal nonsense that had been solidified at that point in time. Mikito would have shattered that entire concept, and maybe it would have been too much for his father. In the end it didn't matter. His father was dead, and he was alive. His father's rival was dead, and his father's rival's two sons were alive.
Hashirama and Tobirama.
Madara and Izuna.
A haunting foreboding shook him to his core. All of his prowess and power seemed to be nothing but a speck of sand-one small speck. For all their power-they couldn't break the cycle They battled and were wary of each other, so they too, fell prey to the cycle. Their brothers fell to the cycle, becoming victims. They were victims as well-thrashing against anguish and hatred.
Hashirama was trying, but villages wouldn't stop conflict. It wasn't the problem solver. And, if things become dire for a village-they will send out children. It was in shinobi nature. The villages would have to fall low in power, or a public opinion of them would be extremely low. It was amusing, because Madara knew such a thing could and would happen.
"Madara."
"Hn."
"What's bothering you?"
Madara blinked-his eyes focused in the mirror-crimson, Sharingan active. Mikito stared into the mirror, directly into his reflection-at his eyes. His arm was no longer by her, but by his waist. It looked like they were both in deep thought, wrestling with their own future visions of what and how things could turn out. Perhaps they both had dark sides, and that's why, more than anything, he had no problem being with her.
She wasn't one of those women obsessed with romance and petty things like that. She didn't fancy him as a dark prince. She didn't fancy him as a prince, and then dislike him because he didn't fit into her image. He wasn't sure if Mikito even had an image-as far as he was aware, Mikito hadn't accepted anyone who wanted to marry her before he came along. There were several bold suitors that came to her.
She turned them all down.
"I'll tell you; if you tell me what is bothering you first." Madara ventured.
Mikito tilted her head.
Madara wondered if Mikito would agree. She was fond of such things. All or nothing. Give it all she's got or nothing at all. It was also forward, with no deception or secrecy. If she told him her problems, he'd tell her his own. But, Mikito was a private person, like himself, and he knew there's some things that she'd never share with him and vice versa.
At least, at this point in time.
"Okay, I like the sound of that." Mikito said with a little cheer in her tone.
Madara remained silent and in the same place he'd been-it was weird staring at his own reflection and Mikito's.
"I don't wish to call them slaves, but that is what they are right now. We're going to free them...I just..." Mikito trailed off, careful not to let her expression waver for even a second.
"Is it their distrust?" Madara asked, eyes reflecting with understanding. "Doubt."
Mikito shook her head, but nodded a second later. She sighed, frustrated. "They've been on those ships for weeks to months, maybe even years. Their own kin likely sold them into slavery. They don't trust anyone. They don't rely on anyone. They just wait for death. When we free them, they may speak with skepticism or contempt."
"It is in human nature, Mikito." Madara said. He was coming to terms with the facts of reality and human behavior. "They just have to be shown-the fact we are freeing them should show most of them, maybe not all, that are intentions aren't to put them in the bondage of slavery once again."
"I don't know..." Mikito's voice darkened, her eyes narrowing.
When people suffer and suffer, they get to a point...
"Are you doubting yourself?" Madara questioned, one brow arched.
"No, of course not. I don't doubt myself, and never will. But, I am pragmatic. I can't and won't just put my head in the sand to avoid the reality of a situation or try and sugarcoat it. We are not freeing shinobi. These are common people that have been betrayed by their own kin-they have more than likely been separated from their family members. I just won't fool myself into thinking that everything is going to go over smoothly. Shinobi have certain and specific training that allows them to cut off and suppress emotion, only to an extent, though."
"I still think most of them will be grateful for our actions." Madara insisted, finally finding his movement once more, and moved towards the wall where his sword was placed.
"You're always going to have those few that can't see the bigger picture."
Mikito nodded, brows furrowing. "I know."
"This is just the first step in putting an end to it, Mikito. This is going to take us into the heart of the Water country, eventually."
"We'll be going there sooner than any of us think. I just need this to be perfect."
There could be tens, if not hundreds of millions of slaves on those boats. Having such an increase, alone, would be enough... Madara closed his eyes, coming to a realization.
"It'll be perfect. They will see and feel your sincerity, Mikito."
Mikito nodded and hummed, she beamed. She wasn't needy, but it felt nice when Madara complimented her or showed his utmost confidence in her. Still, something else was troubling her...It had always troubled her, but it had always been only her and Ahiko. But, now Yuko was troubled by the very same things, and they could do something about it now...Even if it was just the three of them. She smiled at the thought, eyes starting to shine.
Two birds and one stone as that saying goes.
"What is going through that head of yours?" Madara asked.
Mikito only waved her hand. "I'm just..."
"You can be so emotional, sometimes."
"Sometimes?"
"You're just proving my point."
Mikito smiled. "So...Your turn."
He was tempted to press Mikito on the subject. Badger and annoy her until she explodes and tells him what she's keeping to herself. But, he didn't make that decision. Instead, he moved forward. Something else was bothering Mikito other than the mission they about to undertake, and he couldn't quite guess what it was that had so much of her focus.
Still, however...
"Shinobi villages."
Two words. It was two simple words, but they carried danger. They carried a power that deep seated fear and caution in everyone. More than several shinobi would say this is one word, as opposed to two. Rather from lack of education or the concept of a shinobi village, that is what they'd believe. Words had power, they always carried weight, and could tear people as easily as it built them.
Madara hadn't been ready to admit it before, and quite frankly he wasn't ready to do so now. A village had been nothing but a pipe dream between himself and Hashirama. They grew up in a violent world. A dark world. They found light and solace in each other, found hope in other's ideals, which were a reflection of the other's. But, they had been children-while they fought in wars, they were mere children, and a village...
Such a concept was too full of holes. It's something a child couldn't or wouldn't pick up in the first place. They were too busy focusing on all of the positives of the ideas they summed together. Hashirama nor himself thought of how other countries would form shinobi villages. How in turn the perpetual cycle of war would continue. A village wasn't a solution to the problem-it was a small speck in a bigger picture, and incongruous reality. Sure, they had a rough ranking system and infrastructure, but it was just child talk.
What was happening between all of the clans and people here...Certainly one would call it a village, but it wasn't. It was the furthest thing from a village. Clans didn't get their own grounds or lands-something that Hashirama would have implemented. There were no districts, either. Everyone was mashed together. The subtle, small difference between the two is the fact Kumogakure, and the shinobi villages that will soon pop up are all separated in terms of people and clans.
"What about them? I think we've already made our decision with that topic."
This time, Madara's visible eye blinked wide. Slowly, he turned his head so he could focus on his wife, despite everything in him telling him to whip his head around. Surprise and shock drove him to such lengths. Mikito didn't seem the least bit concerned, if at all, about the shinobi villages. True, they did come to a consensus on what their move will be when the time comes, but that still didn't ease his restlessness. Why was he fretting over this while Mikito was completely nonchalant about the issue!?
It didn't make any sense!
"Remember what we talked about, before?" Mikito met his gaze, not going to disrespect him.
"We've had so many conversations, Mikito."
"Oh?"
Madara scowled. "Can you just get on with it?"
Mikito held his gaze, turning away towards a window. She looked at the thick vegetation outside, so massive and tangled, it'd be impossible to descend through any normal means. "There will be five great villages-those fools may include us in that equation, so six. There will be five Kages, each the head of the village in one of the five powerhouse countries. Certainly, they will fight with each other-minor and petty things will turn into full scale battles. Fear and doubt will start to spread, and I'm certain the damiyo will pressure their Kage into action."
He didn't know why he didn't see it before, but it made sense.
The shinobi villages being formed, and their Kage, it couldn't be avoided. But, they were also setting themselves up to be ambushed. Hashirama will convene a Five Kage Meeting. The five leaders, and their second hands would be present. Perhaps they'd have some shinobi standing guard in the distance, but within the building itself, it'd just be them.
Nauseated and blinded by peace. Overcome with hubris and boastful behavior. they'd wear their Kage uniforms into of war armor. Instead of strapping a sword they'd put on their hats-or whatever head garment the Kage would have, if they even have one. It's amusing to think that they'd drop their guard so easily, but this wouldn't be happening now. It'd be happening decades from now. At least twenty years. The villages would need to flourish and prosper before they started squabbling.
His wariness was more than warranted, but given how far in advance they were planning their move for this moment in time. That Mikito had planned-he really had nothing to worry about other than the present.
"Hmph. So, you've thought that far ahead?"
"Yes, but I will improvise should the time come things don't go as I anticipated. But, for now, I'm going to put all of my focus on this mission."
Madara didn't like how firm her voice was or the finality it carried. Mikito was laser focused on this and nothing was going to impede her or get in her way from achieving this. Whoever was foolish enough to stand in her way would meet an instant, but gruesome end. He just hoped that she didn't lose complete control, and he knew there was a chance when she seen dead children and those younger.
It'd be like turning on a switch, and Mikito would be just a tornado of destruction and mayhem. He'd be able to bring her back. He'd be able to control her and calm her down, but in order to do so, he had to be prudent.
"We should probably run through the strategy one more time before we depart, just so we're all clear." Madara said, taking the reins now, before they even got out of his grasp.
There was too much riding on this, and now, he wanted this to be perfect.