15.
Nearly a week had passed since the incident leaving only a strange silence was lingering in the Uchiha compound, the type of silence that has a habit of suffocating people. Madara was sitting in his office, battle plans sprawled in front of him, feeling quite irritated.
It was sort of a natural state for him as of late.
The situation could've been worse. Eiko didn't have time to search for the scrolls about the Sharingan, but that cost him the life of the keeper. The man had enjoyed thirty years of peace and just a year before retirement he had to fight a little girl to the death.
That was annoying him.
Then the fact that it was related to the Kunisada family had caused some disturbances in the clan, that was equally annoying for him.
Specifically because the clan mistress was from the same clan, and a lot of people were convinced that she had been plotting this from the very start, while there were a few out there, who dared to suggest that there is a slim chance that the young woman really didn't know that she was first used and then ditched by her clan.
The good thing was that Yuna probably inherited whatever riches the Kunisada left behind, oh wait, but Yuna was out cold so that just added to the list of things that were grinding Madara's nerves as of late.
It was confirmed that the Kunisada household was empty. Madara had sent men to try to find something to explain Eiko's abilities, but they came back empty handed. Most likely the Kunisada hid their libraries with equal amount of care.
Everything could be sped up if his dearest wife would just open her eyes. The clan's best medic had seen her, and confirmed that she's completely well, no coma or permanent damage to her brain.
"She's just sleeping," the medic assured them.
Madara hadn't gone set foot in the Kunisada household, it would be a waste of time to try to uncover what only a member of the clan could.
His hand was clenched into a fist on the table. The waiting irritated him above all for he was a man of action. All he had to do was get his wife out of bed, up and walking again. It was annoying when she was around, but now that Yuna wasn't there to question his motives and cast a new pair of eyes on his problems it was a foreign feeling.
Was he perhaps a bit too harsh? Depending on his mood, the leader might utter some sharp jabs, but pride prevented him from setting them right.
The Uchiha got up sharply and left his office. Any more of this waiting and he will go mad, quite officially.
He set course to the isolated part of the compound. No one except for approved personnel were allowed there, mostly because Madara was sure that at least one person might be foolish enough to attempt a botched assassination.
Madara merely nodded at the bodyguard seated outside Yuna's temporary quarters. Sleeping next to a living corpse didn't seem like a pleasant environment to get a good night's sleep.
He entered the room and slammed the door shut harshly. It didn't break yet though, he made a mental note to find out what wood was it made out of. Madara stomped to the bed and sat down on the edge.
Yuna's breaths were steady and calm, her brown hair was sprawled around her and her lips had a peaceful smile on them. Madara listened to the sound of her deep breathing for a few minutes before he sighed.
"Would you just wake up already woman?" He snapped at her, even though he knew that she wasn't going to magically open her eyes, but it didn't quench his frustration. The woman was there with a nonchalant expression, completely unaware what's happening outside her silly daydreams.
The season had smoothly changed to autumn and it was already a little too cold to keep the windows open, they wouldn't be able to sit outside anymore.
Madara frowned for a moment before he sighed, the idea seemed absolutely preposterous. The only way to wake up Izuna when he was seriously tired was to say stuff that was complete bullshit. The medic promised that she was merely asleep, meaning that the same tactic could theoretically work on her as well.
"I really need you and can't live without you." Madara said really quickly. His eyes shifted to her face yet no change.
"I care about you more than I care about Izuna."
"You're the woman of my dreams."
Just how many more confessions could this woman take? It was time to pull out the ace.
"I love you." Madara said through gritted teeth, aware that there was a bodyguard right outside those doors.
Even his last efforts were met with silence. Madara chuckled, "I haven't said those words in years, and you don't even have the decency to reject me?"
She seemed to be stirring, slowly but surely, "Keep talking," she mumbled groggily. Madara didn't even want to imagine how stiff her muscles must be at this point, and he knew one fun way to work on that frustration.
"Don't you tell me what to do, woman," he mumbled, holding back the urge to touch her, "Do you know how long you've been out?"
Her face dropped and whatever serenity was left from her dreams, it was gone now.
"Out, you mean that they deceived us? What happened? How long was I out?"
She tried to sit up but Madara forced her to lie back down, "Yes, Eiko used some sort of ability on you and tried to break into our libraries. She succeeded, though our keeper managed to stall her long enough to preserve valuable intelligence."
The shock of realisation on Yuna's face was enough to convince Madara of her innocence.
"So they're gone…" she released a shuddering breath and for a second Madara was sure that she will cry.
"And how long was I out?"
"A week."
She smiled before pinching the bridge of her nose, "Well…shit,"
Madara smirked, "That's one way to put it. Half of the clan believes that you were working with your clan all along."
This only aggravated her further, drawing another lazy moan from her, "Oh for fuck's sake. What else?"
She was well aware of her fragile position in this clan. A parting gift from the Kunisada clan perhaps? To take a dump on her remaining life and abandon her, leaving her with a husband with dubious motivations.
"You're going to help us figure out how your sister's powers work. I know that the Kunisada clan has libraries hidden somewhere in that household, but you know their location."
"Despite not meaning it, you confessed your love so easily."
He ignored this statement, writing it off as a gush of wind, "I'm giving you the choice you asked for earlier. You can walk away, no strings attached, and join your clan. If we meet again, I won't hesitate to slit your throat as you will be a Kunisada to me, nothing else."
Yuna's lips curled into a bitter smile. All the irony of the situation reflected from that small smile.
"Madara, my clan forced me into a marriage, conspired against you behind my back using me as a scapegoat and in the end ditched me,
You'd have to force me to leave."
The answer pleased him immensely, though he would never give Yuna the satisfaction of knowing.
"Well, that should made it easier to clear things up with the rest of the clan. Go get washed up, you stink." Madara said and brushed the exchange casually.
This comment would've provoked Yuna's anger in any other situation, but today she was stretched too thin to weigh herself down with petty emotions.
Madara turned to leave, but Yuna grabbed his wrist. He turned to her, making no move to yank his hand away from her.
"You would've allowed me to go?"
"Most likely."
And with those words he twisted his hand out of her grip with no effort. The woman scoffed, amused.
After Madara left she took a good twenty to thirty minutes to stretch her muscles and get her legs to function properly again. She didn't leave the room until she was certain that she wouldn't topple over.
She walked past her bodyguard who was up in a second and followed her like a shadow.
Yuna bumped into only a small handful of clansmen in the hallway who didn't even try to cover up their shock of seeing Yuna up and walking around as if nothing had happened. Her appearance was completely inappropriate with her hair down and tangled, the dishevelled yukata showing too much skin for modesty, but she didn't pay attention to those details.
Suddenly she remembered Madara's snarky comment and she turned to her morbid bodyguard with a dazzling smile on her face.
"Could you have someone prepare a bath for me? I think I'll manage to stay alive during you absence." She requested.
He bowed respectfully and walked off without a word. So much for concern…
Meanwhile she used this chance to grab a change of clothes. Her feet were still a little clumsy, but she managed to refrain from stumbling ungracefully. No need to provide the Uchiha with more ammunition against her.
Despite spending the entire week out cold, she felt exhausted. Safely close to her living quarters Yuna allowed herself to slouch and drag her feet. Just a little bit more…
Her eyes widened in surprise when she entered the room.
There was a large shelf pushed against the wall, and on them someone had carefully placed all souvenirs she had bought. Even the books were in an alphabetical order!
She couldn't help but smile, even with everything going on, he remembered to fulfil his promise.
True enough, Madara was most likely more driven by his selfish need of perfection and order, but it was still sweet of him to remember.
She walked to the shelf and her hand reached out to a black yukata, decorated with light blue embroidery.
Yuna's eyes looked at the fabric and a smile formed on her lips. She brushed it off and grabbed the yukata and her hairbrush and headed to the bathrooms.
It didn't surprise her to find the stern bodyguard waiting for her, with a maid... Yuna walked up to them and smiled politely.
"I'd like to be on my own please." She said to the maid.
Yuna was simply too tired to play politics, to pretend perfection with the turmoil in her head. The maid looked taken aback, but slightly disappointed, most likely hoping to draw some information from Yuna. Gossip and rumours spread like wildfire here.
Her guard sat down and Yuna entered the steamy bathroom.
She dumped her clean clothes to a bench and untied the strap holding her clothes together. It slid off her skin smoothly and fell on the floor, crumpled around her feet. Yuna took her comb walked across the room and took one towel with her, leaving the items into arm's reach before stepping into the steaming hot water.
She decided that it would be better to work through the mass of tangled hair before washing it. It took a little cussing and conditioner to work through it, but in the end her hair still intact.
When Eiko looked through her memories she had realized that her family had betrayed her. It happened to quickly for her to hide anything, but while she was out Yuna was in the most beautiful place that was without pain, anger or tears.
She had felt at peace, and a small part of her hoped that maybe her family had taken her along. It was a foolish dream, especially since if would have been a death sentence.
It felt like someone had punched a hole inside of her.
She didn't know what to believe in anymore. Was her family...no family is the wrong way to put it, were those people planning this all along?
Did Eiko agree to it without a second thought, casting away everything those two had done together? What about her mother?
Yuna pulled her knees up to her chest and put her chin on her knees. Couldn't they get her agreement beforehand? Now it just made them seem selfish.
Yet she refused to cry about it. There was nothing left to lose.
She didn't get out of the bath before it was beginning to turn cold. It was time to return to reality and face the consequences of the mess her family had made.
The smell of new fabric was sort of like a silly metaphor for the next stage of her life. The scents of soap, skin and perfume hadn't stuck to it yet, a clean slate.
Her hair was damp, even after thoroughly drying it with a towel; it dripped everywhere, leaving small wet blotches on the fabric.
She brushed her hair for the very last time before tying it into a low, and a bit messy, bun. She left everything else there, not bothering to clean up. At some point in the near future maybe, but not today.
Yuna's bodyguard was still there, probably bored out of his mind.
"Could you take me to Madara?" She asked the man.
Unsurprisingly, he didn't utter a word once more. Was he mute perhaps?
Yuna wasn't sure if he really knew where Madara was or was he just guessing. He led her to a pair of double doors before respectfully excusing himself. Accompanying her while she was by Madara's side would've been considered an insult to Madara's skills.
Without knocking Yuna slid the door open and walked in.
Madara was seated on a crimson cushion and was smoking a pipe again by the window. Yuna inhaled the scent before seating herself by his side. Madara's eyes flickered to hers for a moment, before he resumed staring at the garden outside.
Yuna hesitated for a moment, but she was driven by primitive desire.
'Accept me, love me, and don't reject me.'
Her hand reached out and with the tips of her fingers, turned Madara's head carefully towards her. She leaned forward, supporting her weight with her hand and pressed her lips against his.
When they shared kisses before, Yuna had never noticed the small details like how warm or soft his lips actually were.
Startled of her actions and from a fear of rejection she kept the kiss brief. Her cheeks were warm and she didn't want to look him in the eye, afraid of his reaction, so she hid her face into his neck.
Madara was startled, but not disgusted. Progress.
He didn't try to force eye contact, but out of generosity wrapped his arm around her shoulders, allowing her to snuggle closer to him.
He carried on smoking his pipe as if this was a normal occurrence between them.
"You aren't rejecting me, contradictory to your vocalised opinions." Yuna's voice was almost a whisper. Madara seemed all too nonchalant about the situation.
"I told you how you make me feel alive, it's time to return the favour. Take it as a gift to help you level your head."
He sent out another puff of smoke. Yuna's lips formed a smile, though it didn't reach her eyes.
"I'm just a little angry." Yuna said, her voice sounding almost amused.
Madara's eyebrow rose, "Then slaughter them," he offered, as if this was the most natural reaction to the situation.
"They have started war with us anyway so it doesn't really matter if you want to kill your fa-."
Yuna jolted upwards, looking him straight in the eye, "Don't say family. They aren't anymore."
Madara chuckled softly, "You might say this now, but what if the fate of this war depended on you, what if you have to look into little Eiko's eyes, listen to her last pleads and feel the warmth leave her body as you kill her?"
There was a note of amusement in his voice as if he was picturing the scenario. Yuna's eyes looked up to him and she smiled.
"If she did this willingly, and completely knowing what will happen then I won't hesitate...but if otherwise I might consider other options." Yuna's voice trailed off and Madara sighed, clearly tired from explaining the obvious.
"That attempt would be futile since I have an entire army under my command that wouldn't have a problem killing that girl. If you think they give a damn about how her death affects you, then you are much more naïve than I have been led to believe."
"Do you think that they would kill me with her if they had to?" She questioned, relaxing enough to lean on Madara.
Madara looked down to her with a smirk on his lips, "If you're someone I cherish by that moment, then only over my dead body."
Yuna couldn't help but to giggle at his expression. Even this simple act of laughter helped ease her worries. Those were just hypothetical situations, they didn't register as reality to her.
Madara placed the pipe down, his fingers playing with Yuna's hair. The sensation sent small tingles down her neck.
It didn't seem like she was going to leave soon. Her hair was dampening his shirt…how annoying…
As Madara felt that he should resume work, he looked down to his shoulder to see Yuna sleeping on his shoulder. He scoffed, hadn't she slept for the past 144 hours already? Would it be considered too rude to simply dump her on the floor?
Madara shook his head and stood up, carefully supporting Yuna's weight. He set her head down on the crimson cushion gently and to his relief the movement didn't wake her up. He shut the window and was about to remove his jacket to drape over her, but decided against it.
What if he caught a cold?
He resumed his position behind the table, fingers brushing over his lips subconsciously. His eyes darted to the sleeping figure on the floor, smirking.
What a foolish woman.