This chapter started to get long, at 7k words. I didn't even get through most of what I wanted, but I decided that making all the medical junk its own chapter would draw things out too much, in an already slow-paced story.
Strength and Blessings
He hates this.
Hates this life.
Hates this pain.
…But he also loves things within his miserable existence.
And those precious things…That's what he'll have to fight for.
Madara Uchiha will have to fight for his right to be kind, to love, to peace, to living, and seeing his loved ones live.
Madara has improved exponentially in his studies, when no longer able to see his mother and brother.
He is ruthless in spars against Tajima. He goes through each new kata with an intensity and force of a steel blade, seemingly knowing how to use and exploit weak spots.
It is as if something has finally unlocked itself, within the boy.
Strength. Drive. Power.
The Head of the Uchiha is certain that this will do Madara good, for it already has so many benefits for the boy.
Madara will gain the greatest power.
The young man slowly feels himself die inside.
It's all about fighting, now. Learning the best katas, the most accurate way to throw weapons, the skill of making rapid-fire decisions during a spar.
It is all about violence, and Ma-kun cannot take it.
The very rare free time he has—almost nonexistent, since he rises with the sun, and sleeps when the moon is at its highest point—he uses to study medicine. Every snatch of five or ten minutes he has, he tries to use to its greatest extent.
He'd had a vague interest in medicine, in his past life. The one where he did not have to train to kill people.
In this world, medical knowledge is…Rather lacking. Some of the practices are horrendously backwards, unsanitary, and downright moronic.
He studies medicine, anyways. All the scrolls and texts he can get his hands on.
Because no matter how barbaric and lacking the field is, right now…Medicine can be used to save lives, instead of taking them away. And that is the closest thing to the young man's previous ideology, from his past life, that is available for him to peruse.
Any material (anything seemingly accurate, that is) about anatomy is worth its weight in gold, for the reincarnated soul. Some things may not be very clear, that he comes across. But basic anatomy is paramount when it comes to healing.
It is also useful, when finding the weak points in the human body, that one can exploit during battle. Something he finds himself using against Tajima, during spars, ruthlessly going for the throat or the arteries.
However… it can also be useful to keep one from being injured, in battle. To help a comrade, out in the field.
And that pacifistic, nonlethal use—the softer, more humane, more helpful side—is what he wants to always have. It's the reason he tries to study medicine.
Ma-kun wants to help and save others. Medicine, anatomy, iryo ninjutsu; it will all help him keep and practice his beliefs.
But for now…Now, he's just going to try his best to release his frustrations and animosity on Tajima, by trying his best to beat the shit out of the tight-assed man, during training.
The man ends up praising him for his power, his ruthlessness.
But that is not what the young man has. That is not who he is.
Yes, he is using power, born from anger. But it isn't a power that is going to consume him outside battle. It will not manifest into the Curse of Hatred that is bred within the Uchiha Clan.
Because he… wants peace. Not power. Not hatred. Not power born from hatred.
And that resolve will hopefully led him forwards, without clouded judgment.
…It'll most definitely be a long road. He isn't even three years old, yet.
God, help him.
Winter falls upon the Uchiha Clan, although it is a more mild type of chill that envelops the Uchiha, than from past years. The Head is pleased to note that his kinsmen use up less energy to create and maintain fires around the compound, and there is only a thin covering of the most delicate of ice, upon the grasses of Fire Country.
The twenty-fourth of December passes once more, as the New Year looms. Madara turns three years old.
Once again—like of his first, and his second— there is a celebration that is organized by the Clan. However, this specific one is much larger, now that Madara has officially transitioned from being a babe, to being a child.
Holy ashes are smeared upon the boy's forehead by the priest, making a single tomoe-patterned eye in the middle of his forehead. There is a prayer to the Rabbit Goddess, and the Sage of Six Paths, blessing the boy for surviving until this age.
Once a child leaves the frailty of being a babe, they are much safer from disease and death. It is one of the grand, most important times of a person's life. The following one would be when Madara becomes a man, leaving the threshold of childhood behind.
The celebration is grand, for it is for the heir of the Uchiha Clan. Lanterns with the Uchiha Clan symbol are strung up from the roofs and trees, glowing beautiful shades of yellow, orange, and reds. Stalls full of grilled foods, simple games, and alcohol are set up and opened for business. The Uchiha kin are befitted in kimono and yutakas, with a poise and elegance that befits their clan.
Civilians of neighboring villages come to celebrate as well, making merry and congratulating the boy. They bring in a buzz of liveliness in the streets, helping bolster the celebrations into something festival-like. Young peasant-children shriek and laugh, as they run from stall to stall, and their parents smile and titter.
Young Madara is accosted regularly with well-wishers, for his very special landmark in age. There are also congratulations to Tajima, for having such a good son. There are some for his wife, for being bloated with child.
The least receptive to the grand festivities is the boy who the festivities are for.
Madara does not want to play with the other children, nor does he want to speak with some of his well-wishers. Instead, he sits with his younger brother Byakuya, telling stories to the babe that are foreign and ridiculous.
Grandiose stories filled with honeyed words. Tales of war being nonexistent, world peace being attained. Of clans coming together peacefully, in order to make one village. Of the Moon turning into the Bunny Goddess herself. Of a boy chosen by fate to bring the world together.
They are preposterous. Childish dreams that will never come true.
After the festivities, Tajima drills Madara to the ground during training. Punishing the boy, for putting such impossible thoughts into the brain of the much more impressionable Byakuya.
There can never be peace. Shinobi live off of blood and battle, and that will be the reality of the world, until generations in the future. And the Gods and Goddesses will never grace this blood-soaked Earth with their divine presences.
The reincarnated soul was not very amused or enthusiastic with the grand celebrations over his third birthday.
It was not that he did not appreciate the sentiment—he wasn't that bratty or ungrateful, thank you very much. A celebration for a child leaving the very tumultuous time of infancy would be important in this world, where child mortality rates were ungodly high.
In a world where factions tried to kill each other, as well as the elements and natural causes, it was a commodity for any baby to live long enough to be at a 'stable' age. Why, some infants didn't even get a name until passing a certain threshold, because they were too sickly at birth, or the parents just didn't want to get attached to something that would die so soon on them.
No, the young man could understand the reasoning for why the third birthday of this body was made into such a grand event. He would even allow the Clan to go through with their traditions with the Shinto Shrine ceremony, the holy ashes smeared on his brow to simulate a third 'all-seeing' eye from the (not-so-untrue) legends of the Sage of Six Paths, and the Rabbit Goddess.
Hell, he didn't even mind that the party encompassed even the civilians from nearby settlements. There weren't many things to celebrate or be grateful over, when every day was a war, every day held death. Let the poor saps live a little, and have some hope.
The thing that made Ma-kun not enjoy the entire debacle was more the fact that it was a celebration by the Uchiha, for the Uchiha.
And it just kept reminding the reincarnated young man that he was an Uchiha. One of the most despicable of all: Madara Uchiha.
Despite the merriment and the overall happiness of his well-wishers, Ma-kun felt his face fixed in an almost permanent grimace when confronted with those persons. They would either call him 'Honorable First Son' or his accursed name.
Those two titles made his blood boil. He hated being known as either. So, having an entire day where throngs of people kept on using it, congratulating him for surviving his second life by the age of three during a time of bloodshed, was…It was…
It was a whole new type of personal hell, for the young man.
'Is this my punishment, for the sins I will commit in the future, with my accursed name and identity…?' he thinks to himself. 'Is this some sort of karma?'
To say that Ma-kun was moody during his party would be…A bit of an understatement. He was angsting, like a true Uchiha.
It would be ironically hilarious, if not for his circumstances.
He doesn't have the energy or fucks to give, to put up with this bullshit. He tries to be polite to most of his well-wishers—especially the poor civilians that don't know any better, and haven't even done anything to offend him (…much).
But he eventually gets tired and annoyed, and starts to simply give them curt answers, or even ignore them altogether. A few mutter about 'Uchihas and their elitism', but since his actions are so atypical of his Clan, many do not comment on it.
…It's sad that he has to hide behind the asshole-ishness of his Clan, when he doesn't even want to be like his clan. Ah, paradoxes…
The young man gets a few invitations from children—mostly nice, smiley, naïve civilian kids—to play with them. Since, at the best of times, he doesn't know how to interact with children…Or act much like his physical age, nor even know how to 'connect' and sympathize with them…
Well, he was very straightforward in turning them down, despite the overall kindness in their requests. 'Geniuses', 'reincarnated adult souls', and 'playing with young children' does not mix.
He was an intellectual, extreme introvert that hated parties in his first life, and that most certainly transferred over to this second life.
The young man's entire birthday party was useless, essentially. But, it did give him the opportunity and excuse to circumvent Tajima's previous orders and insane scheduling.
Essentially, Not-Madara had the entire day off, because of his birthday. And he abused the hell out of that fact, by using as much time as possible to stand next to his mother and check up on his younger brother..
Who even knows when'll be the next time he'll be able to spend time with his little brother or mother…? Not to mention, when he'll be able to spend more time with Byakuya that lasts more than, like, two minutes.
It's odd that the young man abhors children and interacting with them, but is perfectly content with doing so with his brother. Actually, he goes out of his way to be able to see Byakuya.
It's probably a combination of Tajima barring him from seeing his mother and brother, and a soft fondness the young man has for siblings and babies. Baby siblings just make his inner mother hen come out even more strongly.
And so, Ma-kun contents himself with sitting down, baby Byakuya in his lap, in some far-off corner.
"Onii-chan…?" Byakuya mutters, looking up at him in confusion. Considering the boy is outfitted in a proper little yukata, and has his hair slicked back…Overall, the tyke looks incredibly adorable.
"Want me to tell you new stories, Otouto? It's been a while," he asks his sixteen-month-old brother. He gently jiggles his knee, causing the baby to give a giggle from the bouncing motion it produces.
Byakuya tilts his head slightly, before nodding. "'Kay. I like stories."
"Smart, you are," Not-Madara says down at the boy in his lap, a slight smile on his face. "Hmmmm…"
"Today, the lands are full of battles. Clans fight each other. They fight and fight, and it doesn't seem like it will end. That sounds familiar, doesn't it?"
He pauses, as Byakuya nods his head regally. He bites down his grin, so that his little brother doesn't believe that he's being patronized. His little brother is rather adorable, when he tries to act grown-up.
"Well, one day, two clans stopped fighting. They were the most powerful clans of the land—"
"Uchiha an' Senju?" Byakuya guesses, seeming intrigued.
"Yes. The Uchiha and Senju," he confirms patiently. "The Uchiha and Senju stopping fighting, and the other clans across the lands started to slowly stop fighting as well. The two strong clans came together, both of their leaders wanting to stop the bloodshed and the wars.
The leader of the Uchiha, and the leader of the Senju, decided to join their clans together. And together, they built a village—a village even larger than the lands of the daimyo, or the cities of the Capitols. It was a village of peace, and they invited many other clans of the Land of Fire to join them.
The clans stopped to listen. Many joined this grand village, full of both ninja clans and civilians. There came peace, and everyone in the village got along. Other Lands across the Elemental Nations saw how grand the village was, saw the peace it brought—and these other lands decided to make their own villages."
"That's it…?" his younger brother demands, brows furrowed. "No fightin'?"
"No, there was no fighting. The village made by the Uchiha and Senju held strong, and it was peaceful…for a time."
The boy perked up, looking like he believed the story if it had complications. Byakuya was rather perceptive, for his age. Not to the level of being an outright genius, but he was rather realistic for a child.
"Despite the peace between the clans, villages started to hate each other. Wars broke out—between villages than just between clans. But it wasn't the villages' fault for the fighting. It was the Moon."
"The Moon?" his brother chorused, wide-eyed and baffled.
"Yes, the Moon," Ma-kun said seriously. "The Moon had something inside it—it wasn't just a ball in the sky. Inside the Moon…was the Bunny Goddess!"
"Ehhhhh?!" the tot exclaimed. "Really?!"
"Really, really," he nodded seriously. "The Bunny Goddess is a Goddess, with a lot of power. She disappeared from the lands—but not because she died. It was because she was…sealed inside the Moon!"
Cue dramatic gasp from little brother.
The reincarnated young man couldn't help but smirk, eyes twinkling in amusement. He was having the tyke all but eating from his hands, so enraptured with his spin on the future of this world.
Though, Byakuya would never know it. He'd just think it was a story his older brother thought up.
"The Bunny Goddess was stuck in the Moon for many, many years. All the time stuck in the Moon, she became madder and madder," the reincarnated soul went on, in low tones, to set the mood. "She was mad at all the people on Earth, who had been getting along…And so she used her Goddess powers to make them violent, so that they would fight each other again."
When all the villages started to fight each other, an evil, evil man heard the Bunny Goddess speak from the Moon…He waged war on all the villages—all of them!—and then…That evil man took the crazy Bunny Goddess out of the Moon, by summoning her to Earth. After so many years, the Goddess was walking the Earth again, but she didn't bring good things."
"How…?" the young one wondered, clutching onto his older brother's yukata, and shaking him.
"The evil man was very, very powerful…He killed many people, to bring the Bunny Goddess back to earth."
Cue another dramatic gasp, from his little brother.
"But! Not all hope was lost!" he went on, noting the horror the little boy held, and wanting to abate it. "The villages came together against the evil man and the Bunny Goddess. They fought against the Goddess and the evil man. And when all hope was lost…A hero emerged!"
"There had been a prophecy—a boy was fated to save the entire world. This boy never let anything get him down, and always tried to forgive everyone he came across. He had hair like sunshine, eyes like water, and a smile that turned all his enemies into friends.
This boy didn't know that the gods put this fate on his shoulders, didn't know he was supposed to save the world. But he stepped up when no one else could, still having the energy and will to fight his enemies. To protect his friends, his village, and the entire world, he stepped forwards…using the power all his friends gave him, using his most powerful jutsu…
The boy defeated the evil man and the Bunny Goddess. Defeated, the evil man turned to ashes, and the Bunny Goddess was purified. She cried, becoming good once more. The boy sealed the Goddess into the Moon, to watch over the world and protect it, instead of hurting it.
The boy with the sunshine hair became a hero. He saved the entire world. After that, there was world peace, and no one fought each other ever again. All the villages, the clans, the civilians—everyone in the world…The End."
"Wow…" Byakuya breathed, stars in his eyes.
"It would be a good future, wouldn't it?" Not-Madara mused, giving a self-deprecating chuckle. "The bad guy loses, the Goddess is good again, and there's peace across the lands…"
It's something that will most likely happen in the future, if he doesn't change things…He's not sure if he should feel comforted by that, or not.
"Another, another!" Byakuya demands, shaking him vigorously, a pleading pout on his adorable baby face.
"No, that is quite enough of this…ridiculousness," comes the familiar sneering voice, causing the birthday boy to tense.
"It is just a story, my dear husband…" comes Fumiko's soft voice, tentative.
Ma-kun turns to look at Tajima and his mother. The former has a disgusted twist of his lips, and the latter looks somewhat worried.
"Ah…Hello, Otou-sama, Okaa-sama," he says coolly, voice purposefully emotionless, his expression blank. He gracefully stands from his previously seated position, shifting his baby brother securely into his arms.
"Hello, Otou-sama, Okaa-sama," Byakuya says politely, seemingly trying to imitate his older brother, down to the exact inflection.
He'd consider it adorable, if there weren't so many damn things wrong with the action.
"What a preposterous story…" Tajima mutters, shaking his head. He looks over his shoulder, ordering the trailing nursemaid to take Byakuya from Not-Madara.
The reincarnated soul glares at the man venomously, but—after a few moments of hesitation—he hands his little brother over to the woman.
"Come, boy," the Head of the Uchiha Clan starts, stepping forwards and gripping his eldest son's shoulder. "You have been hiding long enough. There are some very important men that would like to congratulate you. You will be polite to them, and be very interested in what they say—is that understood?"
The man's voice is gruff, with an edge of steel. The young man frowns, but gives a curt nod.
Tajima looks over to the nursemaid and Fumiko. "Do not strain yourselves. Go—enjoy the festivities. Madara and I will be off for a long while."
The stern man lightly pats his second son on the head, lightly places his hand on his wife's stomach for but a moment, and then nods at them before steering Ma-kun away.
Standing and listening to those 'important men' was very tedious. They were high-class merchants and nobles, people he didn't have any interest in. People he had nothing in common with.
All he did was thank them politely, nod, and pretend to listen and watch them attentively. They praised Tajima for such a prodigious first son, commented on how great the festivities were, yadda yadda yadda.
The only parts that were of note, was whenever there was a mention of other clans. One idly commented that the Head of the Senju had a son around his age. They didn't mention names, but the young man knew who they were referring to.
Hashirama.
Tajima did not allow Not-Madara from his sights. Because apparently, he did not have the right to enjoy his own damned birthday party.
Tired from the situation and the heaping amount of utter bullshit, he quietly inserted a request to his tightass father to get himself away from the dullness, even if just for a minute or two.
"Otou-sama, may I go with the other children to get dango?" he spoke up, quietly, with forced politeness.
"Oho! The boy has a sweet tooth?" one man said jovially.
"Madara, it is impolite to leave your guests in such a manner—" Tajima started irately, making the young man's eye twitch slightly, but was cut off by one of the nobles.
"Let the boy go and indulge himself, Uchiha-sama. After all, this celebration is for him, is it not…?" the noble noted, lazily fanning himself with a ridiculously bejeweled fan. "Besides, ninjas always burn off the fat from sweets so easily. It is a phenomena my little girl is very jealous of."
The Uchiha's Clan Head's nostrils flared slightly, but after a tense moment, he nodded his head. "Quite. Madara, I will allow you to eat the sweets."
A glint of menace and promise was in the man's hard eyes. "But you will undergo…Extra training at a later date. Understood?"
Damn.
Well, at least now he has the excuse to leave, and eat dango. Win-win…?
"Hai, Otou-sama," Ma-kun deadpanned. He turned to the other men, bowing politely. "It was very nice to meet you all. Thank you for your kind words and well wishes. They are much appreciated."
The young-man-in-a-child's-body bolted for it, after hearing their responses.
And just because he could, he ate five plates of dango, chatting all the while with the other children about different dango flavors.
He should be allowed a little bit of leeway, considering it was his second life's birthday.
…It was totally worth it. Both spending so much time with Byakuya, and eating all those sweets. Even if Tajima later drilled him to the ground during training in the next few days.
"Such preposterous stories—childish dreams!" the man scoffed, as he kept beating his eldest son to the ground. "Tainting the views of your impressionable little brother—and for what? To give him false reassurances? He will learn the ways of the world soon enough, as should you, Madara."
All the young man did was sneer in response—both for the use of that name, and for the man's ire.
The joke's on Tajima, though. Because considering his technically 'future' knowledge, the young man can be considered a prophet, and just told his little brother an abridged version of the future.
His story may have been 'preposterous', but it was the truth. And if that man didn't want to believe it…Well, too bad.
It would come true, and then they'd see which one was the stupid one.
And it wouldn't be him.
"Obaa-sama…!"
The old crone halted in her leisurely walk. She tilted her head slightly, eyes squinted and searching for the source of the call.
"Asa…Obaa…sama…" came the call through puffs of breath. Before her, Madara Uchiha stops from his sprint, hands supported upon his knees as he pants open-mouthed in front of her.
Asa Uchiha—medicine woman and midwife of the Uchiha Clan— feels mildly alarmed, but does not show it. She has only ever interacted with the three-year-old heir two separate times: his birth, and after the birth of his younger brother Byakuya, the Honorable Second Son.
"What can I do for you, Honorable Son…?" she asks kindly, deciding that demanding an explanation forthright may not be the best course of action. Uchiha men are very prideful creatures, after all. This is especially truthful for boys, and prodigies.
Young Madara is both a boy and a prodigy, and thusly, she will take a more cautious route with him.
The boy pants, until he is able to catch his breath, fueling his lungs. Once he does, he straightens up like a rod, to stare determinately into her eyes.
"I would like you to teach me about herbs and medicine, Asa-obaa-sama!" he exclaims, before executing a rather low bow to her.
The old crone hummed, feeling her eyebrows climb higher and higher upon her brow.
Asa had not seen such an event as being likely. Boys did not come to ask her to teach them medicine. That was simply a fact of life— like saying that the sky was blue.
Nay, if she was ever to teach a male her practices, it would be she that would seek out the young one. Often, this was not a very strenuous task; very many in her immediate family had the hands of healing and the precise chakra control needed for iryou ninjutsu.
It was more a probable experience, for a young girl to ask the medicine woman for teachings in herbs, or wanting a form of tutelage. Women oft than not staid in home, to care for their families, and thusly needed the knowledge for when ailments befell.
For a boy to ask for her teachings—especially a son of the Head family—it was…unthinkable, before the very experience befell Asa on this fine, winter day.
Young Madara had not lifted himself from his bow, body tense and waiting for the old woman's reply.
A breath passed through cracked lips, before followed swiftly by a creaky chuckle.
"This is quite the surprise, Honorable Son," the midwife admits, voice heavy with curiosity. "Hmmm…However, if your father allows it, then I will gladly teach you. I believe starting with herbs and poisons should suffice."
The boy quickly snapped out of his bow, staring at her with wide eyes, full of hope and promise.
"Really…?" Madara breathes, a smile rising on his lips.
It was a nice expression on the boy—pity, that Tajima was trying his damndest to beat it out of the lad.
"Thank you very much, Asa-obaa-sama!" he says, quickly bowing to her once again.
"Mmmmm, don't thank me yet, young one," the crone hummed. "Your father must still approve of these lessons…"
"Oh," the lad muttered, posture drooping like a wilted flower under the harshness of death's chilly breath. "Yes, of course, Obaa-sama. Forgive me for jumping to conclusions."
"Nonsense, nonsense. It is quite alright," she waves him off with one of her wrinkled hands. "Come—I believe I should present my case to him myself. Kami knows he does not give you enough free time for self-study on the subject, with all that training he puts you through. I've informed him of how unhealthy it is for a child your age, but does he listen…? Nay, he still acts like the rash little boy of years past."
Madara made an amused, choked sound, and the woman grinned down at him impishly. She leaned towards the boy, lowering her voice, conspiratorially. "I remember when Tajima-san was your age, and he whined for pulling a leg muscle by doing too much strenuous training. He should have really learned from his mistakes, should he not?"
"I…Have never heard anyone speak of Otou-sama in such a way," the lad admits, voice thick with bemusement, his lips twitching upwards.
"I helped bring that whippersnapper into this world, Honorable Son, just as I have you," Asa says simply, a twinkle in her eyes. "Just because he is the Head of the Clan, does not mean that I will forget the past three decades of his life, that I have born witness."
After his second life's third birthday, and the looming birth of his third sibling, Ma-kun knew he had to start preparing.
The only person he knew for certain that was a pseudo-doctor…medic…person…was the midwife, the venerable Grandmother Asa, healer and granny to all. The old woman, who birthed him, as well as Byakuya.
…And, who, apparently, delivered Tajima Uchiha to the world as well.
That was a bit…Disconcerting. And amusing. Just like how the crazy old lady talked shit about Tajima like it was nothing.
…Asa was his hero, really.
The young man had, at first, been incredibly nervous to ask her to teach him medicine. She was most certainly old enough to be senile, or retired, or too cranky to deal with kids.
But, after a few awkwardly silent seconds, she accepted to teach him.
He felt…euphoric, when the old woman accepted. Before promptly realizing that, a) he had to convince Tajima to accept the lessons, b) he didn't have enough free time to visit his mother, much less take more lessons, and c) Tajima put an emphasis on strength, so it was unlikely the man would allow him to take time from physical sparring into a more pacifistic activity, like healing.
Thankfully, the midwife was a cool grandma. A cool grandma who didn't give a shit about the Clan Head's opinions, because she was way older than Tajima. Asa Uchiha pretty much watched the man grow from infancy to now, and probably did not take the man seriously, because of it.
…Yeah, that lady was crazy and awesome.
Asa Uchiha knew that Tajima Uchiha considered her crazy, when she had asked of him if young Madara would take lessons from her.
However, the old crone was firm in her request. Through a very lengthy discussion, she finally managed to win the battle of sharp tongues, and convince the obstinate man to allow it.
"How will Madara be able to care for himself and his wounds, if he knows not the art of healing? How will he cure himself from poisoning, if he knows not of the herbal remedies and cures? How will he flourish on the field, complete his missions, if he knows not of the art of poisons? Poisons may kill enemies, may fulfill discreet objectives of falling a target."
It was with those statements that managed to open Tajima's eyes to the benefits and necessities of Asa imparting her wisdom upon his eldest. She had first attempted to sway him with the adverse effects the constant training was on the lad's health, but if Tajima Uchiha was anything, it was bullheaded and blinded to the mistakes of his own past.
Currently, the old woman and the heir of the Uchiha Clan were sitting in a plain room within the Clan Head House. Thankfully, the boy's father allowed the lessons to last an hour—giving the poor little one an hour of physical rest in the insanity of a training regime he was subjected to.
The two—old woman and young boy—settled themselves with tea in front of the low table, that the servant woman prepared for them. They sat, as the servant left, before giving each other the basic pleasantries.
However, the crone could feel the energy make the young boy all but vibrate, his chakra bright and buzzing. Tajima's son seemed very much ready to start.
She was not one for long-winded, dragging small talk, herself. She could not afford to be flowery or lengthy in speech, when needing to snap orders to try and save the lives of the clansmen brought to her, bleeding out and all but dead upon her doorstep.
"Hmmm…Madara-kun, why did you want to study healing? Is it simply knowledge, for knowledge's sake?" Asa asked to calm-faced boy. A feeling of curiosity was nettling her, driving her to gain an answer to satiate it.
The elder could, indeed, believe the child if he said that was the case. Madara was prodigious, held a strong craving for knowledge, often reading in his spare time: at least, that is what others say of the boy.
"Please, Asa-obaa-sama—call me Ma-kun," the young one stated firmly, meeting her gaze. "I like the title much more than my…full name."
The hesitation he shows, and the frown painted upon his rounded face—truly, it shows the disgust he has of his name, very much plainly.
Asa had not known of the lad's apparent distaste for his name, prior to this. However, since the lad seems to often clash with his father, as of late…Yes, disliking the name his father bestowed upon him would be a logical conclusion.
"I see, I see," she nodded, taking a sip from her cup. "Ma-kun, then…Do you have a specific interest in medicine?"
The boy looked down into the depths of his tea, as if searching for the answers to the questions of the universe.
"Yes, I am interested in medicine," the young child admits, slowly turning the ceramic teacup counterclockwise. "I believe…Having knowledge in healing will be very beneficial. I can help others. Maybe even save their lives."
A noise of understanding rumbled low within the midwife's throat. "Yes, healing is a very important practice that many overlook. You are very wise for one so young, Ma-kun, in realizing the potential it holds."
The lad looked up at her, blinking his large, obsidian eyes. They reminded the crone of an owl; large, always watching, wise, alert in the dead of the night. "Ah…Thank you, Obaa-sama."
Asa let out a long breath upon the surface of her tea, cooling it, before taking a lengthy sip. Slowly, she placed the cup down, upon the table.
"Now, young one…Tell me all you know of the art of healing."
Ma-kun was elated, when Tajima had stopped their training early, an hour before lunch.
"Go to your herbal and poison lessons with Asa-obaa-sama," the man had said shortly, after making the young man go through a simple set of cool-down stretches. "Two rooms to the left of the study area used for your Calligraphy lessons. I expect you to do well, and to arrival punctually to lunch."
"Yes, Otou-sama. Thank you," Not-Madara stated politely, trying to not show his enthusiasm for the lessons with Asa Uchiha.
Knowing Tajima, he'd rip those away from Ma-kun, too, if he got too attached.
'Attached' and 'showing any lick of positive emotion' are most likely correlated within the Clan Head's mind.
With quick strides on his pudgy three-year-old legs—and good God, he can't wait until he at least hits puberty, if only to grow to a good enough height—Ma-kun enters the sprawling estate of the Clan Head's home. Once past the entrance room, the reincarnated soul bounds through the halls, bare feet slapping upon the wooden floors.
The young man zips through long halls, past rice paper screens, and around corners. He shoots quick 'hello's and 'good day's to the help, that he passes. They shoot quick greetings to him, as he bounds past them.
Ma-kun rounds the last corner, and slides around a servant carrying a tea service tray so he does not collide with the woman. He avoids her by executing a smooth pirouette— just because he can.
Plus, he's felling so giddy and happy on gaining these lessons. He needs to be able to expend his jittery energy in some way.
"Young Master!" the servant exclaims, giving a jolt. One of the tea cups tilts from the harsh movement, and teeters over the edge of the tray. Ma-kun deftly holds out his hands, catching the falling silverware easily, quick as a viper.
"Forgive me, Miss," Not-Madara starts, letting out a breath that's somewhat shaky from adrenaline and euphoria. He stands on his tiptoes, holding the cup up high. Even then, he's not tall enough to place the empty tea cup back onto the tray. He can't help the disgruntled pout that forms.
The woman kneels slightly, carefully lowering the tray until Ma-kun is able to put the cup back in its rightful place. There is an amused air around the woman. He feels himself redden in embarrassment.
"Curses upon my height," he mutters. The servant woman stifles a giggle. The three-year-old ducks slightly, both to hide his embarrassment, and apologize. "I'm sorry for startling you, Miss. I really should not be rushing to my lessons."
"It is quite fine, Honorable Son," the servant says, serene. "I was just delivering the tea for your lessons with Asa-obaa-sama."
"Really?" he muses, tilting his head slightly as he looks up at the plain woman. "Then, allow me to open the door for you."
Quickly turning on his heel, the reincarnated soul strides down the hall, until he's before the shōji door of the room. He slides the screen over, politely gesturing for the servant woman to enter before him, a small, kind grin on his face.
The servant hesitates, looking a bit flustered and confused. She does not move forwards, to enter the room with the tea service.
Not-Madara blinks blankly, until he realizes that his actions were not part of usual social conventions of this time and place. Usually, women and servants enter the room after the men, and others of upper class; they kneel, ask to open the door, slide open the screen halfway, and then finally enter.
Oh. He must be too polite and chivalrous.
Well…This was both very awkward, and very sad.
"Please, I insist," he presses, trying to hide his own doubt over his actions. After a few more moments of dithering, the servant woman shuffles into the room, kneeling before the low table to go through the usual motions of a tea ceremony.
Deciding that if he was already stomping over traditions, he'll just keep doing it, Ma-kun leaves the shōji door wide open, and enters the room. He greets his temporary teacher, sitting in seiza position, despite how much of an utter (literal) pain it is.
"Thank you for the tea, Miss. We will ask of you, if we need further services," he tells the servant woman kindly, once she's done with the tea ceremony. The woman ducks her head demurely.
"By your liege, Honorable Son," the servant says, bowing. She gathers the tray, stands, leaves the room, kneels, and slides the shōji door closed.
Honestly, he just sort of feels bad for the servants having to do all these tedious tasks. It's made worse with the fact that the servants are civilian Uchiha Clan members—mainly women. Sometimes there are men, who've never been able to become shinobi through small chakra networks, but that's more rare.
The Uchiha Clan is essentially making their own kind cater the Head Family hand and foot. Its ridiculous, and something Not-Madara honestly hopes he can change, in the future.
After the initial pleasantries exchanged, Asa Uchiha jumps straight into questioning him.
"Hmmm…Madara-kun, why did you want to study healing? Is it simply knowledge, for knowledge's sake?"
"Please, Asa-obaa-sama—call me Ma-kun," the Not-Madara states firmly with a frown on his face, meeting her gaze. "I like the title much more than my…full name."
If he can convince the old woman to not call him that despicable name…That would be one less person he has to hear it from. And one more person to call him by the name of his choosing.
"I see, I see," the woman nods, taking a sip from her cup. "Ma-kun, then…Do you have a specific interest in medicine?"
'You could say that again', the reincarnated soul thinks wryly.
He looks down into his cup of tea, debating on what exactly to tell the elder. From what he's seen so far of her character, Asa Uchiha is one of the more progressive, open-minded Uchiha—mostly to do with how the field of medicine is always expanding and changing, and needs a type of flexibility in order to peruse.
Telling her of his hopes and goals wouldn't hurt.
"Yes, I am interested in medicine. I believe…Having knowledge in healing will be very beneficial. I can help others. Maybe even save their lives."
A noise of understanding rumbled low within the midwife's throat. "Yes, healing is a very important practice that many overlook. You are very wise for one so young, Ma-kun, in realizing the potential it holds."
Ma-kun looked up at her, blinking.
Well…That was easy. Now, he has her trust and respect.
These lessons will no doubt be his saving grace. His own little domain, his slice of normalcy and hope.
"Ah…Thank you, Obaa-sama."
"Now, young one…Tell me all you know of the art of healing," Asa goes on, leaning forwards to study him with keen interest.
Hmmm…How much to reveal? Ma-kun's still not fully sure of what modern medical practices are used in this time—or if any are used at all.
People knew that an arm was an arm, and had blood and flesh and bone. That if you stabbed through skin, you bled blood, and losing too much was a bad thing. They knew the best ways to kill, the weak spots and vital organs of the body. That if you get sick, you could die.
But, well…The knowledge of this time was rather laughable compared to what he knows of 21st Century medicine. The medical field hadn't even been very competent or reliable, until the 19th or 20th.
Hell, most of the texts he's managed to snag so far talked heavily over 'yin' and 'yang' areas of the body. This somehow tied into chakra. Most practices were half superstition and rituals, if anything, from what he read.
So, Not-Madara took in a deep breath, and readied himself for a very tedious, long-winded speech over concepts he didn't even fully comprehend, but were leagues above the knowledge the people of this time had about medicine.