"Power is not will, it is the phenomenon of physically making things happen."
Madara Uchiha
Madara moved swiftly, swinging his gleaming blade as he hacked through the jungle vegetation, leading the way. He moved forward, wet, sweaty and dirty. Mikito continued to monitor their surroundings. Chakras faded in and out, growing closer and further. There was no noise, save for the rain.
Madara kept his Sharingan active. He monitored every centimeter that they stepped. Nothing was stalking or attacking them—that much he knew. There was chakra everywhere, and it was hard to distinguish one from the next.
"You may want to deactivate your Sharingan." Mikito said. "Until we get closer."
Madara grunted, but kept his Sharingan active. He increased his stride, cutting wide swaths now. Mikito watched him, obstinate and stubborn. She could only imagine what was going through his head when she spoke those words.
Just ahead of her, Madara froze. He was halfway into a stance, before he relaxed, turned, and pressed his fingers against his lips. He pointed ahead at a clearing in the jungle. There was a massive pool of water of water, fed by the nearby rivers, streams, and lakes.
Its surface was remarkably still, and was spotted with large lily pads clumps of moss, and knots of grass. There was an island in the middle, scattered with branches, old boles, and grassy ferns. Birds of amazing color and size flew back and forth from the island.
Madara watched one dig into the ground, and crunch down on a fleeing beetle about the size of his arm, including his forearm.
"Madara?" Mikito whispered.
He only shook his head and pointed at the island. Mikito took a closer look, and spotted subtle movement. It was barely there. Hardly, but she seen movement. Ripples were gushing and spreading from the island, traveling across the body of water.
The large lily pads rode the ripples, some tipping, and anxious frogs and other amphibious creatures leapt across the pads, splashing, adding even more ripples. Mikito watched.
Madara felt a sliver of shock as the island began to lift itself out of the water. He felt disoriented, for a moment. The ground was dropping beneath his feet, and he swayed, remaining upright. His lips tightened as he seen a shape in the pool of water.
A gigantic, majestic water bison-creature slowly rose from the water and grime. Weeds and plants hung from the horns in swaths, easily four hundred feet in length. Its head was the size of an island, easily enough, lifting from the water, and turning to focus on the two of them. It chewed, jaw grinding, each time making a wet and dull thud.
Water continued to pour from its back. Birds and flying insects landed on its horns, snagging and pinching small creatures and other arthropods.
Madara lifted his sword, but Mikito placed her hand on his wrist, and pushed his arm back down. He didn't resist. Mikito was thankful. She sensed no threat from this monstrosity. It wasn't as fascinated with them as they were with it. It dipped its head down, and scooped another mouthful of soggy plant from the bottom of the body of water.
"That's...Big..." Madara whispered.
Mikito smiled, more than pleased to see the sense of wonder in her husband's eyes. It wasn't all about struggle and fighting, or battle, maybe what Madara really thrives on is wonder. "We'll pass slowly. I don't believe it is a threat, but be ready for anything."
Madara nodded.
The water bison snorted, and Madara was reminded of a fish gulping in water on the surface of a pond. He grimaced, covering his nose. He could smell it now. A heavy, sour, odor, mixed with something that was like sulfur. It watched them the whole time they moved around the pool of water, heading dipping back down to gather more vegetation.
Seeing that water bisom creature wasn't the first time Madara thought about what else might be in these lands with them. That monstrosity of an ape, those huge lizards, that voracious centipede, the snake creature he had slain, and now this massive herbivore. It meant that these lands were home to countless other creatures, even bigger, and more horrors.
"Let's move."
Mikito nodded, following after him.
The terrain grew more treacherous, and soon the massive pool of water was lost in the jungle behind and under them, it rose and fell, plants and other vegetation grew thick and spiked outwards. Madara worked hard to clear a path, growling with each swing.
Some of the plant life he recognized, much of it, he didn't know where to start. He wasn't sure if he even wanted to start. He was no botanist or anything along those lines, by any stretch. He knew that most of the undergrowth here wasn't found anywhere else. He had studied and heard of carnivorous plants, and knew there were a lot of species that trapped and digested insects.
It was about a half hour before they came upon one that had large upright cups filled with water. They had to be eighty feet wide, forming huge circles. Madara approached it carefully, looking inside of it—noting there were dark spots. Mikito looked at the stem, hand twitching as it clenched around her sword.
"What's inside..." Madara mused, grabbing the stem, and snapping it in two.
The bulbs spilled their contents across the ground, and he jumped back. There were several birds, a couple centipedes, a few scorpions, a massive lizard, and a blue hornet the size of Mikito's hand. All of it was in varying stages of decay, and looked to be decaying still.
"Don't go near it." Mikito warned, pointing her sword at the mess. "Acid."
Madara looked at the mess, eyes hardening. They moved side by side, remaining alert, they paused frequently to check their surroundings and rest. Sounds and smells assaulted them. Mikito knew from firsthand expreience that when the constant sounds lessened, that they would need to be ready to kill.
Mikito stopped on sheer reflex alone, if she hadn't, she would have walked right into Madara. She doubt he would have noticed, but she still didn't want to collide with two hundred odd pounds of muscle.
"Madara?" She asked, hand gripping her sword even tighter. "What's got you stopping?"
"Path..." He muttered.
Ahead of him was the path he had been cutting through the vegetation and undergrowth. Trailing vines and creepers dripped and oozed sap. Snakes nearby hissed, coiling their bodies up to evade. Shadows faded in and out as spiders and other crawlers sped away, disappearing into trampled leaves.
A few feet ahead of his path, was one much, much, much bigger. Boles were contorted and ripped, branches cluttered the ground, chipped and broken. Leaves and twigs were strung about, still flying through the air. There was depressed foliage and the ground itself seemed to have been caved in some places.
Mikito stepped through the narrow path Madara had created, and stepped out into the open. Her brows were drawn together and her eyes were narrowed so much it looked like she was squinting. Her focus shifted back and forth, until they landed on an oddity.
"Footprint. It's pretty fresh, too. About twenty minutes."
"What could have made that footprint?" Madara muttered, teeth gently clenched.
He could fit inside, easily. Whatever it had been weighed a lot, because the ground was caved in. He couldn't begin to imagine what creature did this.
"I am not..." Mikito trailed off, looking around briefly. "Sure."
"What do you mean?"
Mikito remained tense, not relaxing. "I have encountered, fought, and killed many beasts and monstrosities in these lands, but just the same...There are many I haven't encountered, fought, or killed."
Madara didn't like the sound of that. There could be some monsters out there that Mikito never encountered to this day…
"The beasts we fought couldn't have moved that quickly, nor cause that much destruction." Madara said. He eyed his surroundings, then turned to Mikito, not sensing any danger. "Let's move."
She followed him again, shifting direction and heading up steep slopes towards a vine and tree smothered ridge line. There would be little to see up there, even from their current location, because the foliage was so overwhelming.
They took a minute to rest, then continued on.
Mikito was entranced watching Madara.
He was clearly tracking through, clearing a path, even if she couldn't see every single thing that he was doing. He stopped, checking branches and leaves, crouching low to the ground and dragging his fingers across it, touching scuff marks on tree bark. He sniffed the air. He cut through vines and creepers with ease, every muscle showing on his body.
Mikito stayed closed behind him, watching him, observing him, analyzing every little detail of him that she could. She didn't wish to interrupt his flow and concentration. It had been a while since she got to see Madara be like this.
She sensed his tension as he looked across the valley that opened up before them. It wasn't fear, and anxiety, not totally. They were at the end of the treeline, and they had a clear view of the land below, and all that rose up as high as it could.
Madara took a deep breath, feeling at peace. He could imagine the view here when there was no rain, or clouds. The sky would be so blue, and the sun would be shining, and everything was thriving, and so verdant.
He had half a mind to strip down to nothing. His trousers were torn and ripped everywhere, part of the right leg was ripped all the way up to his thigh. He had long discarded his high collar shirt, but his hair was sticking to his body.
Mikito looked up at the sky, thinking. "We can rest here for a while, and handle our business. There's a fresh river nearby with fish."
She ripped off what remained of her haori and kimono, and shredded her hakama.
"What the hell are you doing!?" Madara barked, shocked.
Mikito gave him a blank look. Nesting her sword over her shoulder. It's all she needed. "Doing what I need to."
Madara kept himself from making a comment. He would be naked soon enough, to dress his wounds and wash up. His clothes would be useless, thereafter.
"How far is that freshwater?" Madara turned his focus onto the objective.
"Not too far."
Madara had trekked downhill for about twenty minutes, finally coming upon a blue lagoon, where the river widened into a sphere-shaped valley nestled between a grouping of mountains. He sunk into the shadow of a rick near the bank. He crept forward through the mud, slowly leaning forward, and cupping his hands.
He let the water full them. He sipped. Clean, fresh water. He sighed softly, relieved, and scooped more handfuls. He took out his wooden canteen, and filled it to the brim. He stepped out, where it got deeper, and dived in.
He came back up, shaking his head as hard and fast as he could. He was certain his hair must have looked like a peacock and rooster put together, but he didn't care. He dressed his wounds, washing the blood and muck off of his body. He relieved himself, wondering if some fish in this water would eat his crap.
"I really didn't bring an extra set of clothes." Madara said to himself, shaking his head.
It was pretty shortsighted on his part.
An impact punched through the earth. It smacked into his hands and knees, ripping through his marrow. It sent ripples shimmering across the surface of the water. Water dripped onto his chest as he held still, ready and alert, but wary.
What is that?
Another impact, closer, and a shadow fell over him, blocking out the rain as if it never started in the first place. The surface of the water rippled, then slowly settled, Madara seen what had to be a mountain standing behind him.
It's that...Thing from before!
Madara's heart pounded. The ground shook once more. He turned his head, seeing the giant ape-like creature kneeling close to the bank. It had to be less than three hundred feet away from him—too close. Way too close.
If I don't move an inch. It won't notice me. It won't spot me. It shouldn't.
Madara breathed in, deep, slow, maintaining his composure. The beast hadn't taken notice of him yet. The large rock he was leaned up against hid some of his body. He had a chance. Fighting this beast now would accomplish nothing—he had to be silent, had to meet with Mikito.
The ape creature scooped a handful of mud and water from the bank, and slammed it onto its forearm. It slathered it on the wound. It took another handful, repeating the process with his other arm, side, and chest. Madara looked at his forearm, eyes on the wound that was worse than the others—a gash from his encounter with the snake.
They were both vulnerable.
We did that to him. I cut its right arm while Mikito cut its left. He thought, feeling something very strange. He didn't see the ape creature as an enemy at this moment in time.
The ape creature stopped, and looked in his direction. Its eyes changed. Its face contorted as it drew in a sniff, snorting. It extended its massive arm, mud dripping down its hand. Its hand skirted along the bank, reaching towards him. It plunged its hand into the water, right up to its shoulder, and let out that shrieking roar.
Waves crashed and splashed against the shore. Madara took the opening, and sped out of the water, taking cover and hugging the rock he was behind.
The beast yanked its hand arm out, clasping a giant tentacled limb, suckers puckering at open air. Water gushed, exploding in every direction as dozens of more tentacles lashed out from the water, wrapping around both of its arms, and torso. The ape creature stood to its full height, pulling with all of its strength.
A squid and octopus creature both emerged from the water. The squid creature was a true giant, nine hundred feet from the tip of its tentacles to the end of its tail. The octopus creature was twice as massive, but about half as long. Dozens, if not hundreds of limbs remained locked under the water, as more enclosed around the ape crature.
It tugged and wrestled to haul the duo out. The water raged furiously as if they were in the middle of a storm, turning pitch black as the squid released sprays of ink. It spattered down all over, it stunk, a heavy and viscous fluid that was thick as tar.
Tentacles lashed out across the rock and terrain he was hiding behind. Even the very tip was hundreds of times the size of his body. The impact carried him away, a heavy wet thud. He cried out as he picked up speed, voice drowned out by the chaos.
He heard a loud crunching sound, and he risked to take a look. A giant, red, orange, and green centipede had joined the fray and was chewing down on the ape's head. Its body was coiled around all three of the behemoths, claws ripping and tearing away at the trio. The skin on the ape creature's head ruptured, head ripped open, brain and other fluids spilled to the ground.
The squid's heart ruptured, before the whole thing burst open. The octopus was ripped open, tentacles gushing out rank fluids, and its head burst, spilling out gore and blood. It all spilled over into a sick sort of stew, sticking to the centipede's body. The aftermath began forming a thick slick across the surface of the lagoon.
Madara couldn't take his eyes off of the scene. He was breathing slowly, listening to the giant centipede
feasting. The massive furry arm laying beside it went limp, and the tentacles around it went limp as well. One was jerked and tossed aside, as the voracious arthropod bit into the octopus's center.
He could only watch. He could only listen to the clicking sounds that echoed across the landscape. Blood, ink, and gore drifted across the surface. It became peaceful again, despite the mess, and he watched the centipede haul away all three of its kills.
They were all gone, as if they had never even been there.
"Shit..." Madara muttered to himself, shaking his head. "Shit!"
That putrid ink was all over his ragged clothes now-they were no good.
He made his way back to Mikito, glad to see she had a fire going with some fish and lizards in varying stages of being cooked. He met her gaze when she turned up to look at him, and he didn't turn away from her eyes until a few seconds passed.
He took a seat, grabbing one of the fish.
"You're naked." Mikito stated.
Madara set his sword beside him. "I did what I needed to."
Mikito nodded, gesturing at his sword.
He looked at her, then looked at his sword. It was the one Mikito had got him so long ago when they had been butting heads. It would never crack, dull, or rust. And, it was extremely, extremely sharp. He couldn't count how many blades he had cut through.
"Let me see it."
Madara smirked for a second. "Impatient?"
Mikito looked at him.
Madara tossed it to her, and she caught it firmly. She drew the blade out in a flash from her position, it was with such swift grace that he was beyond impressed. Truly, nobody could really jump the gun on his wife, from any position, she could strike out. She could draw her sword in a flash-less than a second.
Still, he wanted his sword. He hadn't let it leave his side since Mikito purchased it. In every battle he fought, he used it. It had saved his life more times than he would care to admit. But, he wasn't above loving the sword.
It was a gem.
His pride and joy.
Mikito noted his demeanor, and could barely keep herself from blushing. As silly as it was, part of her was more than satisfied that Madara cherished this sword the way he did. It did set her back 4000 ryo, but she didn't care too much about that.
She smiled, and meticulously drew it back into its sheath.
Madara took it from her hand, and looked it over. He gripped the handle, and drew it out a few inches. He drew it back into its scabbard, and set it by his side. He could never repay Mikito for the sword, or everything that she's done. Most of all, accept him for who he is, and never trying to change him.
Women had a bad habit of trying to change men-they looked at a man as malleable clay, and it's because of this he didn't indulge in the simple pleasure of sex often when he was younger, unless he needed a severe release.
"Mikito..." He felt his heart flutter, before it began to pound.
She tossed some sticks aside, swallowing before she spoke. "Yes?"
Madara didn't speak. He wanted to say the words. He could feel his very being pushing outwards with the sensation. The feeling. Something that he knew so well, but had only kept reserved for few. He struggled to open his lips—it was like a great power was holding him back.
Why couldn't he say it?
Mikito stared into his eyes, noting that while they were shimmering with emotion, his Sharingan was activated. Not at this moment in time. Normally, he always kept it active—it wasn't often she got to see his vibrant onyx eyes.
The way she looked at him made Madara shake with excitement, but it made him feel guily. That guilty feeling turned into annoyance, because...These things were always so damn difficult. He could say it to Izuna, but…
He did love Mikito, but…
"I'm..."
Mikito threw herself onto him, knocking him flat on his back. She gripped a handful of his hair, and squeezed, her body contracting. She smashed her lips into her husband's and while surprise had taken him, he took her. He stood up, picking her up, wrapping her legs around.
They only broke their kiss so they could breathe. Mikito gasped and panted.
Madara took deep, slow breaths.
Mikito looked into his eyes, and she smiled. "I know."
Madara felt shock take him, but he conquered it.
She knew.
She always knew.
Madara knew he didn't have to say it. He would never have to. Mikito knew, and he would show her how much he loved her through his actions. Actions always spoke louder than words. That is what he believed firmly.
"I think we should get a portrait done of us."
Madara sighed, though it sounded like a growl. Mikito would always, always say something. She had a knack for almost killing the mood.
"Silence, woman."
"You know just how much I love it when you call me that."
The landscape was all messed up. They traversed through jungle, and then they started to push their way through an entire forest of bamboo stalks. The stems were as thick and solid as cement, the leaves sharp as any blade or sword. His knuckles were sliced open from the leaves' edges.
Mikito slapped her neck, hard. Something had touched it. A dark shape bigger than her thumb scurried out of her sight within four seconds.
"What's up?" Madara asked.
"Fucking stupid spider. I hate spiders."
"I'm sure they lose sleep over that."
"They need to move around and mind their own damn business. Stay away from me, and I won't squash you."
"You ever hear that saying the straw that broke the camel's back?"
"Yeah."
"Remember that. In case we see that spider again."
"You realize that saying is about the camel breaking its back over a piece of straw falling on its back?"
"Yeah."
Mikito raised an eyebrow, but didn't say a word. Madara was a hard man, with a short, but variable fuse. He also had a dark and macabre sense of humor. He actually made a joke just now, though it was at her expense.
They headed into a thicker patch of bamboo, even taller than the last patch. Mikito took point, hacking into the stalks and stems, carving a path forward. She had cuts on her legs, and they began to sting. Madara grunted, cutting his arm on nearby leaves.
"Something stinks." Mikito said.
"Like something is dead..." Madara said, wiping his forehead and taking a drink from his canteen.
"No..." Mikito looked around, lifting her sword arcing left and then right. Nothing. It was bamboo, it was just bamboo. But, she could smell that something was around, and it was close. "It smells like something is alive..."
Madara observed her, and carefully stepped around her, taking point. He raised his sword, and swiped, cutting through a few dozen stems in one go. They fell and clattered, clearing up some of their viewing space.
His Sharingan flared to life, glowing.
"Good idea..." Mikito whispered, crouching close to him. "We need to get out of here, Madara. We're too vulnerable in here, and we're being stalked. Something is watching us."
He nodded, feeling every muscle in his body starting to contract. It was automatic. On reflex. He was preparing for battle. Beside him, Mikito went as still as statue. It looked as if she wasn't even breathing, there wasn't a rise of fall to her bosom.
Madara took a breath, and took a step forward. They couldn't go back the way they came—he had no idea how to get back, if he had to be honest. More importantly he had his objective in mind, and nothing would sway him from it.
"I know." Madara finally replied. "It's right here..."
Mikito set her stance, and took a deep breath. "Let's demolish it."
Madara arced his blade to his side, hacking through thick stems, and staring a heavy, dark fluid splattered. It smelled sweet, and moved slower the syrup. The end fell by his foot, and began to move. He sped forward, Sharingan pinpointing every segment and joint. Whatever was around them, had a lot of legs.
He hacked and hacked, struggling to avoid the runny black fluid.
"You have to be kidding me!" Mikito shouted.
A thick stem punched down, and she raised her blade, skewering it through the middle. The fluid gushed, and she shifted her wrist, cutting through most of its left side. Her eyes raced upward, blade following her line of vision. Leaves came to life around them as they began to shout.
Mikito hissed, while Madara growled—staring up at their predator.
A spider, Giant. Its body the size of a mountain, long legs holding up its pale body. It allowed unsuspecting prey to come below it.
Now they were prey.
It mandibles clicked together with the prospect of food. Venom began to well up and drip from the wet puncturing fangs.
Madara opened up, a stream of fire gushing from his lips, flames licking beside him as they pushed against the monstrosity.
Mikito's vision blurred, She blinked. Something sticky, warm, and wet landed across her face, chest, arms, and waist. She twisted and turned, wresting with her blade, cutting, but it was like moving underwater.
Caught in the web!
The giant spider had sprayed her with sink when she cut off four of its legs, and now it was drawing her up. She took a deep breath, firing invisible blades of wind, He heard a roaring close by, the ferocious flames expelled by her husband.
"Katon-!" Madara shouted, his voice seemed to come from the end of a tunnel.
Mikito thrashed, twisting and flipping her body, blade continuing to cut, though it was lighter than air, but stronger than steel. She heard Madara again, and more fire spewed about like a devouring tsunami. She looked uo…
She saw the mouth, fanged, dripping with venom, the eyes, bigger than boulders all began to reflect at her—all eight of its eyes.
I hate spiders!
The world flashed, and her vision inverted. Everything tipped upward before it fell. She was falling to the side, and the ground smacked her hard. She gasped, winded, a blade flashed before the web. Madara grabbed a hold of her, dragging her away.
He swung his sword again, just as Mikito recovered.
The monstrosity began to struggle. It drew what legs it had in, and snapped the back out, struggling to stabilize its weight. Bamboo snapped and splintered. Mikito forced some upward with an earth jutsu, not even bothering to form a seal. Its abdomen ruptured, spilling out a foul liquid.
Madara lunged in close, swung his blade, and carved it into the struggling beast's head. Its long leg thrashed one last time, and they began to drag in as the life it left. It tore rifts into the ground and toppled hundreds of the bamboo stalks it once used as cover.
It reached out again.
Mikito stabbed through its eye, lunging hard to the right.
"Now this place really does smell like death." Madara remarked. "This whole place is our enemy."
Mikito slashed ahead, pointing at their safe haven. Just some meters ahead was jungle and forest, a thick patch of grass spread from the darker depths of the vegetation. She was certain there were no other predators around—if there had been, the spider would have ate them. They were one of the apex killers in the bamboo fields.
Eventually, they made it into the jungle, and sat down. They fell into a silence, and didn't speak for several minutes. There was nothing to really say. A giant spider had been zoned in on them, and she had been ensnared in the web. Madara's first jutsu did their job, but they didn't engulf it, completely.
"I hate fucking spiders..." Mikito hissed.
"My jutsu..." Madara muttered, clenching his hands into fists.
"The spider was huge."
"That jutsu can wipe an entire battlefield of men, you've seen it in the next region."
Mikito nodded, and would never deny that. "I know, but that was not a man. That was a monster. It is in a different realm, Madara."
Madara narrowed his eyes and thought about it. It was arrogance, pride, and ego that made him believe that would be enough. Because he always went toe to toe with Hashirama, Tobirama, Haji, and others, he thought this would be more of an experience to improve his skills, but it was nothing but a fight for survival.
And, power mattered...If he had put more chakra into his fire jutsu, he could have engulfed it completely. But, that part of him. Deep down. That always wanted to do the impossible, and achieve it, nudged him. He shouldn't have engulfed in a few jutsus. It should have been one, and it should have consumed it totally.
Mikito had proven that with her wind jutsus—they had cut and shredded, a reason why the spider had ensnared her with silk while it tried to skewer him with its many legs.
He thought about something, and it must have showed.
"What's up?" Mikito asked, head tilted.
"You're affinity, it's fire isn't it?"
Mikito blinked, looking at him. "And, your natural affinity is wind?"
Madara didn't nod, or even show that he heard her.
"What if I told you my natural affinity is all of them?"
Madara snorted, laughing. "I wouldn't take you serious, not unless you showed me of course."
Mikito never guessed Madara was that curious. She used fire jutsus, but not too often. They were large scale, and most of the time Hashirama was in the battle, and it was to combat his Mokuton. Madara wanted to see her array of jutsu.
He was an Uchiha, after all. Nothing would ever change that. He'd always be curious about anything pertaining to battle. Any jutsu. Any technique. By blood she was Domou. He was Uchiha. But, it was their way of thinking and mentality that made them different. They seen the shinobi world for what it is worth, and what it is.
Power.
"Curious. I think your natural affinity is actually wind." Mikito mused.
"I think your natural affinity is fire." Madara remarked.
"You want to see my fire jutsu."
Madara looked at her, expression flat. "You always hold a few techniques or jutsu back, I know you."
Mikito looked at their surroundings. The fields of bamboo were just twenty odd miles behind them, the stems as tall and thick as trees. "I actually try to execute jutsu without a hand seal. I am able too."
"It's a rarity." Madara admitted—he could just breathe and exhale, and there would be fire. Hashirama could just stand there, and his Mokuton would tear apart the landscape.
"If we encounter anything, I'll use it."
Madara shifted slightly, shrugging off the feeling. He knew it all too well, but he always maintained privacy when he had to do it. Hashirama had caught him that one time when they were younger. Mikito caught him that one time. But, he had been taking a leak.
His insides pulled, and he tried not to grab his stomach.
Mikito looked around. "I'm going to scout around. Meet back here?"
Madara nodded, moving with some speed. When he looked back, Mikito was gone, consumed by the jungle for the several long minutes she'd be away. He found a spot, a tree, and leaned up against it. He ate a little too much, before, but he had been hungry.
Very hungry.
A shadow flashed across the nearby area. He caught the movement, almost a blur, but his Sharingan could make it out. There had been multiple moving. Four in total. He was completely vulnerable—this was the only time his guard was down.
Here and now…
Three dozen shadows emerged. They had sharp teeth, and ragged fur with tufts Raging yellow and red eyes shone brightly in their bloodshot cornea. Saliva came from their maws, their breath was horrid, and they were all thirteen foot to the shoulder. The smallest was nine feet. The largest was just short of twenty feet.
The beasts growled, long muzzles contorting. Their eyes glowed, and they opened their mouths, panting. They exuded murderous intent their thirst for blood was thick on his skin like his sweat. He could feel his vision shifting, becoming sharper, there was more clarity...He could see everything.
They lunged. Madara was on the other side of the clearing, sliding, body still going through its waste process. It took a second for him to shift, gripping his sword, and taking a stance. It didn't happen often, but everyone was caught off guard when they were using the bathroom.
What should I do?
Madara wasn't sure where the thought came from, but it came. Perhaps it was how the beasts just plowed into the nearby trees, cruel claws gouging into the bark. Others rammed their heavily muscled bodies into the sturdy boles, challenging the roots.
Or, it could be that he didn't know what to do. His jutsu were powerful and covered an area, but he had to smother these beasts from the outset. A fire jutsu of that caliber would take a lot of his chakra, and he would be left winded and definitely feeling it.
Or, it could be the fact he was still crapping.
Despite that, he had to fight. This wasn't victory. This wasn't defeat. This wasn't conquest. It was survival. A constant fight.
I'll lure one in, and strike it down!
Madara shifted his stance, finished, and firmed his base. He slowly shifted left, ever subtly rolling back his shoulder over time—to make it appear he had an opening. His blade was pointed for the ten foot beast's throat. It was a pack hunter, but here and now, they stood toe to toe.
It lunged. Its sharp claws ripped through the earth, leaving wide trenches. Every instinct in his body told him to run. His training as a shinobi. As an Uchiha shinobi. It all told him to run. Evade. Retreat. It was futile though, he couldn't retreat. The pack closed him off—to retreat meant death.
It was fear. Shinobi trained to suppress all emotions, and that included fear. But, fear was one of the emotions that were difficult to suppress, like murderous intent, or hatred. No matter who dies, the clan must survive—that is what he was taught.
But—right here and now. There was no clan. He had no father. Here and now, he was only himself. Naked, sweating, sticky, dirty, hungry. He was Madara Uchiha, and now, more than ever he had to hold his ground.
The beast's movements were erratic, the pack stood off out of respect, or knowing it was already dead. They would swarm him soon after. Still, he could track its footsteps, broken, and twisted, switching at impossible angles.
It opened its mouth, and he shifted forward, thrusting. His blade skewered into the beast's mouth, piercing through the back of its neck. It growled, croaking as blood erupted from the wood. Three lunged the second his blade pierced—the opening was slight. But, it was still an opening.
Three more flashed into movement. They moved opposite, but in tandem with the other three. The ground shook with each step, and Madara could almost count how many steps they would take until they reached him.
Even with all of my training in kenjutsu, I can not walk out of this unscathed. One of them will lock their jaws on me...Maybe none of that matters—if I put my all into it...I can strike them all down!
It was either that, or death.
The howls and snarls would have driven anyone to fear. The predators would have gave chase, enjoying the game. He noticed of the beasts and monsters in these lands didn't kill out of necessity for food—they killed just to do it.
It didn't drive him into the realm of fear.
He screamed, unleashing all of his chakra, and everything he had. His blade arced, and he moved as violently through the air as his weapon. He felt resistance, he felt the tear, he felt the gushing of the wound, he could see the howling beasts, stunned and in agony.
Madara shifted back, gouging his right foot behind him, shifted his blade, and jumped…
Two of the beasts fell dead, his blade scoring through them. He hadn't forgot about the rest of the pack. They were tiring him out. Chasing him. Cornering him. Making him give chase. They were trying to make him weary.
Madara screamed again, arcing, and lightning struck at the moment in time. Thunder rattled the earth, and he extended his arms fully. He felt like his gums were bleeding. Every part of him was burning, but he could hear nothing.
He was no longer prey, as the entire pack fell. Their bodies splitting and ripping into segments. Blood gushed and a sickly green fluid fell from their bellies as they struggled to walk away. Soon enough, they all breathed their last breath.
Madara was wide eyed—wild and nearly crazed. He could feel something shift, in that moment—when he had screamed. When he offered his head.
He couldn't quite shake what he was feeling, but managed to swipe his sword to clear it of blood before he sheathed it once more.
Mikito came sprinting out of the nearby vegetation—a giant black beetle had proceeded her, slamming into the ground before tearing into pieces when it hit a tree. She looked around at the beasts, noting their snouts and large teeth.
"What happened?"
"Nothing."
Madara wasn't going to speak on it.
He couldn't speak on it.
However, something was clear. He needed much, much, much more powerful ninjutsu. He really needed to make each one...Excessive. Perhaps what they were all doing was a pale imitation on ninjutsu, and one could form a seal, and shatter entire mountain ranges.
Or, he could create techniques having to do with creating shockwaves with his eyes. In theory, he focused chakra into his eyes. More importantly, within the optic nerve of the eye itself. It was possible to create something having to do with shockwaves. Instead of activating the Sharingan, he could project that chakra into a wave.
He needed to improve, vastly.
That much was extremely clear, and had been made clear.
He never knew he was lacking so much...
"I have a question for you, Mikito?"
"Oh?" Mikito looked at him, head tilted.
Madara continued. "What do you think ninjutsu is?"
Mikito considered the question. There was the typical ninjutsu was the art of the shinobi. Ninjutsu was kneading and mixing chakra. Ninjutsu was this and that. It all had to do with something, in particular. Many considered ninjutsu to be forming water or fire, but they wouldn't consider destruction to be ninjutsu.
She knew what ninjutsu was, for what it was. She knew it came from Ninshu. The difference between the two was clear. In Ninshu—one would work hard with others, and create bonds, and do good things. By doing good things, a cycle of goodness started. In other words, Ninshu was spiritual. It was a mentality. A way of thought. A way of living. Every word had a meaning and power.
Ninjutsu—one created a weaponized form of chakra. It wasn't about working with others, and sweating, and breathing heavy, and coming together. It was about one's individual strength. It was more arrogant and prideful. It was showy. But, more than anything—ninjutsu was destruction.
In its purest form, ninjutsu was destruction.
Why would one form two hand seals, or five, to shoot out waves of water—when they could form one, and just cause pure destruction for miles and miles? That was something created to add more flash to ninjutsu.
But, she considered this was Madara she was speaking too. She knew he wanted an answer, but he often dug deep beneath the surface. If she spoke on the trivial things that everyone knows of, she wouldn't be answering his question.
Mikito hummed softly—the noise caught Madara's attention, and he turned his focus onto her for several long seconds. The angle he sat at, cast shadows over his face and eyes, shrouding him in darkness. Most would feel disturbed or scared, but she felt none of those things.
"Mikito..."
"Give me a few minutes to think, Madara."
"It's not that difficult of a question."
Mikito shook her head, running a hand through her soaking hair. "I don't want to say the trivial things. You are not asking me about ninjutsu when it comes to a jutsu, I believe you are asking me what ninjutsu is to me, as in..."
Madara nodded, eyes widening briefly. "So, you do get where I'm coming from?"
Mikito nodded, looking annoyed. "Of course I do. That's why I'm taking a while to answer your question."
"Think harder." Madara groused.
"How can I when you won't be quiet?"
"Just do it." Madara retorted.
Mikito glared at him. She was reminded of a kid who was trying to push her around when she had been young. She punched the boy, after he had used a chop strike to her head. He had been very bossy, and very pigheaded.
That boy had been such a brat…
Madara reminded her of that silly brat.
"Okay...I think I have an answer..."
Madara frowned for a moment. "Why are you pausing?"
"Thinking..."
Madara realized that pressing wasn't going to do him any good, so he just waited for Mikito to continue. She always took everything so serious, and put a lot of thought into everything—at times he forgot she could be even more serious that he was at times.
He leaned his back against a nearby tree, sighing.
"Ninjutsu in its purest form is destruction. It is an individual's strength. It is something attained and honed through one's own merit and training. It is a weapon, more than anything."
Madara arched a brow, curious. "Destruction in its purest form?"
Mikito nodded, gesturing at the air with her hands. "Someone expels water, and someone expels fire. There is a collision, and the result of that collision is destruction. Why should we waste time spewing out fire with five hand seals, when we could just form a hand seal, and spew out an entire tsunami, or forego that entirely and..."
Madara's heart quickened.
Mikito was talking about pure destruction. It wasn't fire jutsu. It wasn't water jutsu. It was ninjutsu in its purest form, in her opinion. Destruction. She was eliminating the process and middle. Instead of a fire jutsu being executed, she was causing destruction. Why spit out an entire tsunami, when he could just execute a handseal, and ravage the entire landscape?
He would be able to contend with, and surpass Hashirama! Right now, the Senju held an edge over him, and Madara was very aware of the gap between them. He could push Hashirama to his limits, but the Senju always held something in reserve.
But, if he could do what Mikito was saying...Hashirama would be left scrambling in the wake of their next battle.
The very thought excited him and amused him, and he could feel a grin threatening him.
"You're a genius…" Madara breathed, slightly shocked.
Mikito arched her brow this time. "It's just common sense, in my opinion."
Madara got closer to her, and formed the horse seal. He didn't knead any of his chakra, nor push it outward. He merely went through the motion of executing the seal. "So, if I execute this hand seal, for instance..."
Mikito started at his hands. "You would expel enough fire to cover the entire landscape, or you would cause destruction."
"What do you mean?"
Mikito picked up a rock in each hand. She crushed one, leaving it in tiny pieces. She threw the other one into a bole, cracking it.
"That."
Madara knew not to take this lightly or laugh, but it was awfully hard not to. Mikito crushed a rock into pieces and threw another one.
"I would rather, crush my foe's skull with one squeeze, then complete the same thing by whipping my arms into him a few times."
Madara rubbed at his chin. "If I apply that to what you are saying..."
"You would cause the explosion itself, instead of clashing with your foe which would result in one of many explosions. Instead, you would cause the destruction."
Madara drew his brows together. He would need to apply it, in order to understand where she was coming from. He could understand, but until he battled—he wouldn't have a full understanding of what she was trying to get at.
Hopefully, the next battle would make it more clear.
Ninjutsu in its purest form is destruction. Instead of causing the explosion through colliding with his foe, he would create the explosion itself. That raw, uncomprehending power that knocked everyone down, even his father, to their feet.
"Is that why you don't use ninjutsu that much?"
"I find that executing high scale and powerful jutsu can be a waste, if nothing is accomplished. If I reveal too many high level techniques at once, my foes will come up with countermeasures."
Madara smirked. "You could make it so powerful that countermeasures would be useless."
"There is always a countermeasure—it just depends if you are willing to accept the collateral damage that follows. I was thinking about this concept for a long time now, after my battles in the next region. But, the question you asked me, and this conversation...It has me thinking. Perhaps it is time to collect some data for the hypothesis."
Madara nodded, standing to his feet. "Right. I feel like we're getting closer to a different area."
Mikito stiffened, entire body shaking. "Indeed. Soon we will have to cross the valley of hell."
"It will be good for our test, like you were saying." Madara said.
"You are right." Mikito said. "By the way, what is ninjutsu to you?"
Madara looked Mikito in the eye before he spoke. Ninjutsu had always been one thing to him, and one thing only. "The absolute sum of an individual's strength."
Mikito hummed, looking up at the sky. "I wonder if there is a way...To make all countermeasures and anything else naught."
"You can always improvise." Madara suggested. "You are a very intuitive person."
Mikito nodded. "But, I would like to eliminate the need for improvising and all of that."
"So, you're basically saying..."
Mikito clenched her hand into a fist, staring at it. "To be so powerful, that it is excessive. To be so powerful it strikes fear in the hearts of everyone in the world, including Hashirama. I want to hear that man say...Your strength is too great, you are too mighty."
Madara shuffled the thought away, focusing on the objective.
"Ready to move?"
"I am if you are."
Madara led the way, keeping his blade forward. He didn't need to hack his way through quite yet, but that would change within a few moments. Mikito paced behind him, keeping a sweep on their surroundings every passing second.
Madara stopped, taking a drink of water. He offered some to Mikito.
"You mentioned this valley of hell?"
Mikito nodded, taking a swig. "Aptly named, as one of the alpha predators that reigns over that land."
"What is it like?"
Mikito's expression darkened. "You just have to see it. Where you want to go—we have to head straight through it in order to get there."
There were no more squids, octopuses, tentacled creatures, snakes, or pack hunters. At times Madara seen shapes in the water, but they passed by very quickly. Even here, the appearance of safety, was only a facade. Death was always waiting for them. Madara followed the river stream, coming upon a single route dividing into several hundred rivers and lakes, making navigation something close to trial and error.
With Madara leading, Mikito couldn't tear herself away from her surroundings. She saw everything. Birds—both known and unknown. Flowers the size of mountains blooming from lily pads and blossoming from their stems far wider than her or any boat. Clouds of butterflies the size of her thumb and smaller, moved almost as one single moving organism.
Hundreds of tributaries and waterfalls greeted them, creeks and runnels flowed past them. It was more of a marsh than a jungle, and Mikito hastily formed an earthen boat—sitting at the head while Madara took point.
Madara joined her in sightseeing. He had taken to pausing every few minutes, and not moving a single muscle. He could feel sweat trickling down, but it was just a reminder. Hardly noticeable. The ground rattled, the lightning cracked, and thunder bellowed, and Madara was starting to think some of the trees would be tossed aside.
"Mind if I ask you something?"
"I'll reply as honestly as I can."
"What do you think would have happened if we didn't get married?"
"Eh?" Mikito tilted her head. "You're talkative..."
"We've been married close to a year." Madara said, brows furrowing.
"The courting was perfect." Mikito said.
Madara blinked, looking at her closely. "We were in battle."
"Exactly."
Heat and humidity hung heavy, insects and other creeper buzzed, plants scratched and irritated their skin, rumblings, and slower, much more measured movement seemed to come from all around them, all at once. Shapes scurried for cover, and Madara was concerned that it might be dangerous spiders, or some disease ridden vermin that was bigger than he was.
These lands had been the most dangerous place he had ever been. And, easily the strangest. Giant ape creatures, giant squids, giant octopuses, giant pack hunter canines, giant snakes, giant vultures, giant lizards...Everything was giant.
There was no telling what could could come next.
He moved down into a more shallow creek, following the water course upstream. The going should be easier from here on. There was less foliage to hack their way through, and they could move much faster to where they needed to go. The streams flowd ad crashed along their rough path, gushing from rocks and throwing small rainbows around the.
Madara remained alert. Refusing to get distracted. Dragonflies the size of tree branches buzzed across and over the stream, frogs twice the size leapt from and at the marshy edges, and flashes of silver illuminated the space around them—fish darting beneath the surface and diving into the sky.
There was a rustle. A flash. Madara froze, arm extended as his blade gleamed Mikito halted behind him, keeping her grip tight against the hilt of her blade. Sounds assaulted the. Splashing, thrashing, rustling, bids singing, insects buzzing, but something about this sound was different, and he knew the sound well.
Clouds of insects took off, fling in chaotic angry messes. Some of the masses merged together as they battled, but other merged and move around each other, before dashing into the vegetation.
Something was trying to be quiet.
Madara lifted his arm more, taking a two hand grip, aiming it near the stream on the other side. A shape appeared in the shadows. Madara raised his blade. A shape became a creature, and wolf-lion type of creature stepped out from beneath the cover of trees.
"We've got company, it seems." Madara said, taking a stance to attack.
"No, this beast is finished those insects got it." Mikito said, she focused on the creature.
The beast fell to the ground, gasping, growling, and roaring. It gnawed at gouging bite marks and big black spots still on its body. The dots shook and writhed before moving, before ultimately being bit into pieces by powerful jaws.
'Fucking parasites. They make me sick." Mikito hissed.
"Let's just keep moving." Madara said, trying not to pay the scene too much mind.
He was on a mission and nothing would impede him or slow him down. Not the sheer ridges. Not the jungle. Nothing. He was forced to climb, but he pressed on. This ridge was but another wrinkle. Going through the jungle was always a challenge. He always found the easiest way through, and Mikito admired him.
They struggled up the side of a ravine, and chambered atop the ridge after what felt like an eternity. Madara felt a chill of fear course through him. Hopelessness settled into his gut. In the valley ahead of them, was nothing but horror. There were no trees. The few that were rooted, looked like grave markers. Fissures and rifts spotted the ground, some erupting with yellow and green gases. Every once in a while, the gases were driven high up.
Sirens roared at the sky on clouds of steam, intermittent blasts sending streaks of force hurtling through the sky. There was the glow of lava in some places. Open wounds that pulsed with lava. Nothing living could be seen beyond them.
There were many of them. Corpses. Skeletons. Giant, huge, large, and small. Huddled corpses. They were piled together in pile. Many of the dead couldn't be identified from their current distance. There were smears. Gray, white, and brown. Skin and hide still clung. Many were large enough to make out from where they were.
Mikito was stunned. She didn't breathe. She didn't blink. Madara tried to hold in his shock and keep his fear at bay. He struggled to shut out the sight. He had to recharge his purpose and focus on his destination.
"A lair..." Madara breathed out, body rigid as stone.
Mikito had been thinking along the same line. She shared a glance with Madara, then sped down from the ridge. She was eager to not leave behind a shadow and silhouette for anything that could be stalking or hunting them. She moved down, mounting some rocks. Madara led them through a gap between humongous boulders.
He came to a stop, staring.
Both felt disassociation from the world that they knew. This was a glimpse into a living hell, literally. Where no life could be sustained or maintained. It was a valley of death. A valley of hell.
Madara understood why it was called as such.
A very fitting name.
From their newfound position, he could make out several giant ape skeletons. Giant lizard skeletons. Shriveled bodies of scorpions and other crawlers laid shattered about, slowly wilting away at the elements. The skeletons seemed much, much, much larger than the beasts they had run into up to this point.
Madara wondered what creature was in this lair…
"These were dragged here." Mikito hissed, tone low. "Bones are stripped clean."
"Something wiped them all out." Madara remarked.
Mikito pointed at the ground. "The monstrosity that is below, did all of this...A devilish and fiendish creature. It kills for the hunt, and for fun."
"The north is beyond this." Madara said. We are going to wipe it out, I don't care what it is!
"We could go around, it would be more appropriate."
Madara shook his head. "Doing that would only take more time, and we'd be out in the open for some time."
"If...We strike it down together...We can kill it."
Madara nodded.
"Before we do that, let's get dressed." Mikito formed a hand seal, activating a seal on her side.
"I don't care for hakama, but they will do." Madara said, slipping on his bottoms and fastening his kimono and haori.
"I can't stand the kimono women wear. I like the hakama, believe it or not. The layers I have to wear, before I even put on the kimono gives me a migraine thinking about it." Mikito retorted.
"A kimono suits you very well." Madara admitted, checking his sword over. "You show no signs of trouble when you are walking in one, even the long ones."
"I've had a lot of training and practice, husband. Hakama suit you as well. When I see you wearing them...It makes me want to be a simple and demure housewife."
Madara chuckled. "You are simple and demure, but I can't imagine you being a housewife or playing that role."
Mikito got close to him, offering a smile. "I would no longer fight in combat, but I would still keep my skills sharp. I could give birth to sons and daughters, and train them."
"Would you be happy with that?"
"Honestly, right now...No, I wouldn't be happy with that. We still have a lot of things we have to accomplish and take care of. I think of having children, but it isn't always on my mind, and I only entertain the thought of it. But, when all of this is over..."
"When all of this is over..." Madara continued, pausing to annoy Mikito.
"I will be a housewife. I will be happy with that. I will give birth to your children, and we will train them, and they will be very strong from an early age."
Madara was a tad amused, even if Mikito was being serious. Usually, he would be the one saying such things to her, trying to convince her to bear children, but this was the other way around...And...Mikito wasn't quite trying to convince him. She was only speaking her mind on the subect.
Truth be told if their respective Councils had their way, Mikito would have given birth to two children already. The third would be well on the way, or there would a fourth coming—because at that point they'd have twins. It would just be their luck.
Madara couldn't imagine handling so many kids at all. The thought really didn't appeal to him, when he thought long and hard about it. He had too much to accomplish, too many goals set, and too many things he needed to do, that couldn't be done if he had a child or children. It just couldn't be done if he had any.
Mikito must have felt the same way, and he was thankful. While she wanted a family like every woman, she was pragmatic enough to know that it was better to think and dream of that, than turn it into a reality. If it happened, they would certainly handle it the best they could, but neither of them wanted that burden.
Mikito would have to take maternity leave. She wouldn't be able to participate in any of the coming voyages or battles. A small part of him nudged him—telling him that Mikito not battling was a good thing, but he knew his wife was a warrior, and she would always fight.
But...Nursing their child would be better. She wasn't cutting off someone's head. Most women were doing such things like nursing, but Mikito wasn't.
She wouldn't be for a long time.
She was a warrior through and through.
"You..." Madara cleared the silence, feeling awkward for a second. "Never answered my question."
"About us not getting married? It is likely Izuna would have pushed for an alliance with my clan, and Uchiha and Domou would have married, or he would have married. You would be a flight risk, and Izuna would know that. He would get the Council on his side and deliver results."
"Are you saying my brother would have married you?" Madara was at a loss.
"If the Council pushed for it, and they would. Even if you did ever develop feelings for me, you would know I am betrothed to Izuna. You would respect that and keep your distance. Izuna would do what needed to be done, while you would have remained stubborn."
Madara scowled. "What do you mean I would be a flight risk?"
Mikito sighed, rolling her eyes. "You would have told your Council and mine to kiss your ass and go fuck themselves. We are the leaders so ultimately the choice is ours, not yours."
Madara stared at her, not looking amused. "I would say something like that."
"Exactly."
"Where the hell do they get off trying to boss me and you around? They're like eighty years old and want to walk around like their the world's greatest gift. I want you to marry Mikito and have sons—they completely forget about girls. Marry Mikito or else…" Madara paused.
"Or else?" Mikito prodded.
Madara groaned. "They would have had you come in my room late at night saying I wanted tea. Or, I would have had to go to your room to bring you clothes. Somehow the doors would be locked. Nobody would know how."
Mikito laughed, softly at first, but she started laughing louder—to the point she had to massage her stomach.
"Did your Council send in women for you when you were younger?"
"It was ridiculous. There had been a few occasions when a woman would just come in my room when I was half naked. One of the elders would just be passing by, making a comment."
"And, the women?"
Madara raised an eyebrow. "What about them?"
Mikito laughed again. "You are oblivious to most of that, but you're not going to tell me you didn't indulge in any of that."
Madara firmed his lips, staring her in the eyes. He made sure not to change even a fraction of his expression. He could feel emotion pulsing through him. It was threatening to jolt his body. He could barely fight against it.
"I am a man."
Mikito nodded, not looking the least bit upset or appalled.
She understood.
"It's different for women. We have to be pure and clean. Men get to sleep around the second they have those urges, but us women have to control ourselves. I used to get requests from clan heads to marry. That all stopped when I killed one, that took it too far. Before you, I had only embraced one other man."
Madara tilted his head more, eyes focused. "Who?"
Mikito looked at him. "Yasashi Tonbo."
Madara blinked, leaning back. "The Tonbo clan?"
"No need to be so surprised about that." Mikito remarked. "We had some adventures between you and I before we finally came together."
"I guess." Madara shrugged. "You ready to go, Mikito? The valley is just ahead of us."
She nodded, standing beside him. "Let's do it."