The words almost seemed to strike a nerve upon his own heart. One that had been long since forgotten. Forgotten in an age where war had been everything, and destruction and chaos had been a thing that had been the only reason to go on. But the child, the prodigy had been speaking of his history that was no just of his own.
His bloodstained history, Madara's past. The past that did used to haunt him in his dreams. The dreams that were talking of a long forgotten past, one that was drenched in war, blood and misery. Madara was of no fool of that, he did remember the past but chose to bury it in his heart. That still existed in one sense, that reminded him that the past did in fact happen.
The demons that entangled themselves in one's heart. He could see the boy struggling with the challenge of trying not to let them win. Though he paused between speaking, Madara knew there was an inner struggle even if he tried to denie it. The demons had won Madara's heart, the darkness that was in the man was one that had seen the end of the fight long ago.
"Cursed clan?" There was a bitter laugh that almost escaped his lips. "Always has it been the curse of our blood has it not? Understand, you may but only a fraction." His voice almost seemed to have a breaking point all on it's own, perhaps one that lacked the sanity. Yet at the same time he was sane.
"You were a child of war, and yet, the understanding of war and chaos is far different than my own. It's a vicious cycle, one born out of love. The idle protection of it, the need to care, creates a spark of war. That hatred, it's the flames of being unable to protect the thing that your heart holds dear."
Madara paused his feet moving forward in a quick movement towards the other. No sound made, as his fingers touched upon the prodigy's shoulders. Mostly to get a feel of of the other's emotions, and an insight to his thoughts. This wasn't the first time he had touched the boy. There was nothing that was of importance when he did. He had been doing it since he had been brought here.
"I'd watch your tongue, if I were you. You are trending on water."
It was rare. The display of any emotions from Madara. Rare, but they leaked out. Itachi had been taught some of the history, but was naive on certain parts of it. His fingers seemed to touch the side of the child's neck, almost a light pressure as a warning. It had been a long while since the boy had gotten under a crack in Madara's skin.
The crack that had been left by his brother. The one that had played a role just as much as he had in the war. One that had cursed thier blood perhaps, one that maybe even damned it but Madara wasn't going to let the boy in and see more of his weakness. Never. He would only get so far under the skin, before Madara resorted to violence.