The sun's rays showered the sands in a glowing dance. Glistening like diamonds hidden in the earth. Nothing could survive here as the land was a harsh environment. But somehow, life continued to beat the odds. What little source of water could be found, only the desert animals knew. They always traveled the land with no solid home or foundation. Unlike those who found their foundation, lived a life that the desert nomads saw different. They were the few that called the desert home.
Long flowing robes danced with the wind. The sand hitting his exposed flesh as his eyes were closed. Alone, abandoned, and surviving the harsh wilderness. He opened his eyes to the nothingness. He could only feel the sun's rays and the wind. He was blind and could not see the world around him. It has always been so since he was just a child. Born to a nomadic woman from a fierce tribe in the desert, he was always told that he was cursed.
What use was there for a blind child?
His own people threw him into the desert when he was still a boy. No knowledge of what is beyond the sand. No knowledge of the animals hunting him and the birds above waiting for him to die so they could feast on his flesh and bone. The blind boy was alone and scared. He knew not where he was heading; he knew not where he was going. That night, it was cold and the sand was unrelenting. The Gods were testing him. Laughing at his will to survive this harsh land. He huddled against the dead root of a tree. Trying to sleep off the hunger and thirst. His feet were blistered and his skin felt too hot.
It watched him. It watched him with those dark piercing eyes. Its shadow cast from the light of the moon. Tall, broken, but it moved without making a sound. Its footsteps placed gently against the sands, it's feet feeling the little life coming from the boy. But there was something within him. Something strong. Something delicious.
For two days it watched the young blind boy struggle to keep his footing and find his way through the desert. It watched him struggle hunger and thirst as the boys lips were chapped. He was near death. No one wanted the boy. Not even the village that resides in this environment. Like his people, they turned him away leaving the boy to die.
The way of nomads and that of a village were the same. They feared him for an unknown reason. Was it his skin? Was it his walk? No. His eyes. But, that was impossible. Those born blind would not be thrown away to die.
The large figure had wondered for those two days. Why this boy was turned away and left to die. His eyes were no different than other blind people. It has to know. It has to move closer. It felt empathy for the young child, but it could see his restlessness. The boy was doing all he could.
Poor thing. It thought and on that night, it swooped in like a bird of prey to make the boy a deadly man and give him a promise the boy could not refuse.
The devil choose his prey.
He moved his arm upward to grasp at the air. His fingers extended and moving. Every muscle underneath his flesh moving as well. He was sore, his body resting. The soles of his feet far from the earth, he could only hear his surroundings.
There was movement around him. Muffled by walls making it impossible to correctly pinpoint the shuffling. Voices so low he dared not listen to conversation. He knew he was somewhere safe, peaceful, and smelling like flowers. It has been sometime since he felt peace within himself or safe within walls.
Blinking his eyelids, he took in a deep breath feeling his lungs expand. Such the sweet smell of the flowers around him was calming. Sitting up with ease, he swung his legs over what He could assume to be the bed he has been resting on. Moving inch by inch so his feet could touch the ground, the flesh of his feet sensed many things around him. Making a picture of blue electric light that pulsated with every movement and heartbeat. Even plants give off energy making everything he saw connected in some form or another.
His body stiffened when he heard a small gasp from behind him. The soles of his feet caught the small amount of chakra coming from the woman behind him. She was no threat, he told himself. Turning around to face the woman, he could hear the door close and her walking towards him.
She was cautious. Her footsteps slow everytime she moved.
"You should not be standing. I do not want you to open your wounds." She said with a stern tone in her voice.
He said nothing.
She sighed heavily. "It would be much easier if you shinobi did not always do as you please. With wounds such as yours, it is of any wonder how and why you still live."
He could hear this woman with a soft voice walking around the room. Her steps were matching her mood and tone. She was annoyed, if not a little angry. Why would such a woman care for the lives of shinobi?
"Life as a healer is not easy. Patients always getting up when they wake from their slumber. Another one. The Gods must think my life and healing a joke." She whispered to herself.
He could feel his body recovering with the use of his chakra. Regenerating the deep wounds from his fight with the Senju. A miracle he survived. But, he could not remember how he got to this room. He was not sure where he was or how long he has been in his recovery state.
"Forgive me for asking, but I want to know how I got here." He spoke causing the woman to stop walking.
"Some of the men from the village saw you. Knew you were wounded and sent you to the healing house. I am Tsubaki, the healer. Now, can you please sit down so I can check your wounds." She spoke and he obeyed with a nod.
Tsubaki walked closer to the young shinobi. He was still, observing what he could only hear with his sensitive ears. She knew the blind were highly sensitive when it came to their other senses. His skin was darker then any man she has ever come to cross. She knew he was a foreigner from the desert lands, but his clothing was different. He wore nothing on his feet for protection. They were scarred from years of travel. What also stunned her (and curious) was to see a curved blade hanging from his waist. No shinobi she has ever come across had something like it. He came from no village, she thought, maybe a nomad? Yet, nomads stay in the desert far from war. They only travel and come to civilization when needed.
But… desert nomads were killed off many years ago. Were they?
Tsubaki shook her head. There was no time to think right now. Her patient was waiting for a change of bandages. Blood was seeping through the white material. Looking closer at this young man, his body was scarred and he looked rather thin for a shinobi male. Tsubaki made a mental note to feed him fattening foods for him to gain a little weight. No shinobi should be as thin as him.
He was young, very young. Maybe eighteen at best; a few years younger perhaps. Tsubaki wasn't sure on the exact age of this shinobi. Such a poor soul, she thought.
He could feel the way the chakra moved around her. His senses feeling empathy or was it sadness. He needed none. Being blind wasn't a disability for him. But, why was he still here? Here within these walls when he needed to continue his mission… his purpose? He wanted the gift of sight. That voice promised him. He would give it to him if he did a simple retrieval. Madara Uchiha and Hashirama Senju, they were his targets.
He needed to go. He needed to finish his mission. If he stayed here longer, the entity would be angry. It would kill and it will feed.
Tsubaki could see a look of concentration on the young man's face. A need of urgency to leave. She knew she would be dealing with another stubborn shinobi. She sighed and tried to calm him down by speaking, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears.
Something about this blind young man was unsettling. Tsubaki could see it by the way he sat still. His chest moving up and down with every breath. His black messy hair covering his eyes, but it seemed that they were soulless. Tsubaki could not show fear.
Tokiko was not very comfortable with this young man being around others. If Tsubaki remembered, the older healer stayed away, but she would bring Tsubaki the herbs she requested. Was she scared? Tokiko was never scared and always teasing Tsubaki about finding a husband in the wounded shinobi, but this was unnerving. Ikko was even trying to pry in, wondering who this man was. But Tsubaki made sure no one would bother this man. He was her patient no matter how uncomfortable he made everyone.
Tsubaki placed her hands gently on the man's skin. Usually, the body would flinch but it seemed He expected her touch. A chill ran down her spine as the silence engulfed them. This man was something that Tsubaki could only describe as disturbed. And it unsettled her to the core.
He was still, silent, like a statue without birds resting on him. Tsubaki wondered if he was still breathing. The little light that came through the window was being suffocated by a sudden darkness. This shinobi was not much for words and she did not want to bother him from his thoughts. She was curious like any human being should be. Focus.
She had to work. She had a patient. No matter her feelings right now, Tsubaki had a job.
He was in a sour mood. Those around him could feel his energy and the scowl on his face made everyone want to get out of the way of his wrath. Today has not gone as he had planned. The elders were pushing him, nagging him, and threatening him to find a wife and produce heirs. It was all those old bags of bones lived for and Madara had enough of them telling him what he can and cannot do. He was not a man willingly to let wounds bother him. Surely, he respected the elders because they are the wisest and they were advisors to his father when he was still alive, but Madara has his sights on something far bigger then wives and children.
But you cannot deny the fact you want Tsubaki here. Within these walls, healing you with her gentle hands. He clenched his hands at his side. Those thoughts of the healer woman have been constantly making his mind go crazy. There was something about her; something that was more than healing. Stop those thoughts!
Their was a scowl on his face as he mindlessly walked through the halls of the main compound. His wounds have healed nicely with light scarring to his body. His chest and ribs still felt a bit of pain and their was some bruising still that will fade. The paste that Tsubaki had given him worked, which he did not doubt her abilities as a healer.
She was skilled; all the more reason to have her. Tsubaki was a woman of worth. Surprised she was not yet married. He wondered to himself about the option that was given to him. But, there was this annoying voice in his head that shruddered at the thought of the village leaders daughter. She is beyond reason.
He blinked and paused as his mind scolded himself about the thought. The elders wanted him to have a wife, but were they specific about who? Tsubaki was not born of nobility, but her healing abilities could be passed down and used for many generations. Such a foolish notion. Such boyish thoughts.
The pain in his chest tightened as if it were suffocating him. Disposing him into darkness. Giving him reason to remember why he was hurt. Madara could not stray from them. There was a war happening between two of the strongest shinobi clans. There was no time to think of foolish romantic fantasies that may never be. Madara was a man who wasn't held down, not by anyone and not by a healer whom he found comfort and fascination in.
He will admit to himself that Tsubaki had some effect on him. Her kind nature was a breath of fresh air. But, war kept lovers away from each other. She understood shinobi die on the battlefield, but could she know what it would cost to leave her village to come to another? She wouldn't be accepted by my clan.
His pain loosened up a bit making breathing easier. He could hear the sound of his brothers voice calling to him, not wanting to touch him. Looking to Izuna, Madara could see the worried look on him. What is that fool worried about?
"You need to get that look off you face Izuna." Madara said in annoyance.
"Rather hard to not worry about my only brother. You have yet to rest since we arrived. Do I have to remind you that I will get Lady Tsubaki so she can calm your rather… stubborn nature." He teased.
Madara's eye twitched.
"You better be here to tell me something because I am in no mood for you to be saying such things to me." He was moments away from smothering his own brother.
"You must calm yourself. Remember what happened last time you got angry? You almost wrecked the village." Izuna scratched the top of his head trying not to think about that day.
He knew Madara was placed under tight scrutiny by the elders. Madara hated to be bagged at constantly, which is why he preferred the battlefield more then being home. He could be gone for weeks on end, no word for months, and he can return home and the process will begin again. Izuna could see how tired he has become. His body could not rest because Madara felt a pull. Something calling. Izuna has never seen his brother so… human.
Madara was searching, longing, and here he was being told to do this and that by those who sit behind closed doors. If only he could take his brothers burden. Of only…
The blind shinobi had disappeared off the face of the earth. Two weeks have passed without a sighting, yet the war still claimed many lives. Not one of them baring the wounds of the blind shinobi. Ikko had nothing to report on, but might have found something in this new patient that Tsubaki was treating. This untreated Madara greatly, but Ikko was kept in the dark about this man's identity. Tsubaki was a woman who kept her patients out of the eyes others.
Izuna watched his brother as the fumes of anger could be etched on his face. "They bother you." He said after a long silence and Madara glared hard at his youngest brother.
"I was only asking, no need to state me as if death was closing in." Izuna smirked lightly, though one would not do so when it came to Madara's short temper.
Izuna chuckled lightly trying to soften the mood. Since their return back to the Uchiha village, the elders were always nagging Madara to death about finding a wife. Not that Izuna wanted to constantly hear about the matter, but it was a way for his elder brother to vent. He lived for war. To fight. To kill. There was not time for marriage in the eyes of Madara. If anything he wasn't the marrying type to begin with.
"They do not see that our enemies grow in strength and our allies dwindle. I have no use of their squabble when they think me weak." This hurt Madara's pride more then anything. Izuna could only shake his head with a smile.
"No one sees you weak. After you encounter with death, those old bones want you to continue your legacy in case you… die." This was said with much amusement. Madara wasn't laughing though. If he could, he would strangle his only brother. Madara was no weak man! He has proved it countless time on and off the battlefield. His brush with death however was not going to go unnoticed. They were only taking precaution just in case Madara was not capable of surviving. Those fools!
"Dying is the last thing I think about. Death welcomes the weak souls not capable of fighting." Izuna laughed and placed his hand on his brothers shoulder.
"Now brother, no one believes you to be weak." This wasn't very reassuring to Madara. He did not need to be told such things.
They walked until they were in the training grounds. Members of the Uchiha clan immediately stopped their sparring and bowed in respect to the brothers. Every day was spent here until the sun set and Madara never felt more at home fighting in the compound. Trained since children, Madara wanted to blow off some steam.
If Madara Uchiha did not find a wife within a months time, one would be chosen for him. Knowing the elders, they have one in mind and her name was like hearing a cat meowing through the night: Asumi.
AN: hello my lovely readers. I have come from the dark depths of the… busy world. I am also seeing that I am getting new readers. That's awesome! Thank you so much for giving this story attention. I would have never… Never… A million times never would have imagined my story to blow up the way it did. Thank you. I really mean that guys.
Reviews would be awesome, but I am happy with the turn out. You all make me happy and to know that I can continue this story till the end. :) I thought I sucked at romance.
Poor Asumi though. Will anyone love that spoiled woman?
