Chapter 11 | The Broken Pieces
The Wind Country was all humidity and howling winds that made traveling through the desert a terrible experience—the worst he had ever been forced to endure. Mornings were sparse, afternoons were scalding, and nights were freezing inside the thick-walled clutter of mud homes built on the hill overlooking a sea of pale sand. Adjusting to the unpredictable temperatures took time, time Izuna didn't want to spend within the indecisive desert, but he was left without a choice.
Today marked their seventh day since Izuna and Sachiyo first joined his father's group. There were a great number of shinobi under Tajima's control and all worked with a single goal in mind: to expand Uchiha territory throughout key cities in the Wind Country to ensure a permanent and safe venue of travel for all shinobi. (Though really, who were they fooling? It made travel easier for the Uchiha and that was the real goal. Tajima was far from a peacekeeper.)
Sachiyo had every intention of dragging Tajima back to the compound since he had stopped taking orders from the elders. Madara would have been the better option (given the favoritism that went on with their father), but he had been tasked with a job of bigger importance, one Izuna felt more suited to do: taking care of Mio. Sachiyo had been furious about what happened on the trip to the Wave Country, she had shouted at the two of them until her voice gave out. She had a readied list to explain every reason why she lectured them about their safety, the mission objective, and the princess—reminding them of every harsh lesson Taiga instilled in them.
"You've acted unprofessionally from the minute you challenged the Demon clan! They could have killed you!" she had yelled, glaring daggers at Madara, who said nothing despite the arsenal of insults cooking up in his head. "Just look at those burns! You are not strong enough to take on shinobi of their caliber."
"They took Mio—" Izuna tried to reason, but she silenced him immediately.
"Don't get me started on your shortcomings, Izuna, I left you in charge and you allowed them to revolt. What do you think that says about your capabilities as an authority figure?"
She had shut them right off and separated them in an attempt to make them learn a lesson she failed to divulge. Perhaps it was one of those things you had to figure out, either way, Izuna was at a complete loss.
Honestly speaking, Izuna didn't like the idea of leaving Madara and Mio together while the latter recovered from something a medical specialist could only describe as exhaustion and the aftermath of the deep slumber she experienced in Kurata. Madara wouldn't bother doing anything considerate and he had used this as an argument to force his grandmother to let him stay instead. She shot him down instantly, saying, "If you keep interfering this way, they won't ever get along themselves."
His counterargument was simple. "They're good at that! They're really good at faking how much they enjoy each other's company, but they secretly want to stab each other in the eye!"
With a smack upside the head, his grandmother ended the argument and since then the thought of it all had disastrous results. At the same time, Madara would have at least had the courtesy of leaving Mio in Kana's hands to have a guilt-free conscious if she died.
Izuna almost kicked himself for putting 'Mio' and 'died' in the same sentence. He persevered through all ill thoughts of his brother and hoped for the best like he usually did. So long as Mio regained consciousness, she could take care of herself so long as she didn't pull a kunai on his brother, or vice versa.
The thought made him shudder. He hated having to sit in a room in the presence of Tajima and his confidants observing him as if they expected him to turn blue at any moment thinking about everything not having to do with the subject of the gathering. A fight had broken out because a group of rival shinobi from one of the Sand Dome clans tried to kill his grandmother when she tried offering an alternative to their constant skirmishes, knowing she was walking into a trap. She singlehandedly humiliated her guard of three skilled ninja when she killed a group of seven with a scorching fire technique. It led to the need of a strategic meeting, one from which his grandmother was absent and so he automatically became her stand-in.
God forbid his father trust him with anything remotely responsible. Madara was the favorite, the ideal leader in a clan like the Uchiha, and Izuna's pacifist ideals often got him into trouble, like they expected him to distribute candy in the middle of war. He didn't take it to heart. He wasn't the least bit interested in proving himself worthy in anyone's eyes. He was content where he was, training for big missions with Madara and watching him grow irritable when he lost a fight, and observing Mio during target practice because for a whole second there was nothing in the world but the kunai and shuriken in her hands and the bright-colored squares she strung in the trees. He preferred the emptiness of the manor, the sound of all the animals outside, the cold in the winter, the rain between seasons and even his grandmother's shouting. He enjoyed short-lived missions and meeting the people of the world.
Izuna predicted long ago that he wouldn't last a day stuck in the desert with his father and by a stroke of luck, his grandmother talked her son out of taking her grandchildren with him. She thought it was best to train them near the compound in an area large enough for him and Madara to run around. He had been thankful for the countryside because he would have probably already died from heat stroke.
"Izuna?" called Tajima, derailing his train of thought.
"I was listening," he announced, almost insulted. He swept the room quickly, all sixteen shinobi that were once seated in a half-circle before his father had vacated and an awkward silence set in alongside the realization that he had been found out. Now he felt irritated.
"Were you?"
"Fine, I wasn't."
Tajima was a daunting man—built stronger than the average shinobi—with a narrow gaze and a presence that could make the bravest man turn coward and hightail it out of sight. He wore his dark hair long, an untamed mass that fell below his shoulder blades, and had eyes like a black pool without surface, like the feared waters in Kurata.
"We'll be scouting in the east…" He trailed off at the sight of Sachiyo stepping into the room, his authoritative tone changing into something rude. "What do you want?"
"Izuna and I will be returning to the compound under a week. Leave Katsura in charge of your shinobi here and see Eijiro. We have urgent matters to discuss."
"Our matters here are far more important than whatever Eijiro wants to talk about. If we properly expand our territory here—"
"I know the prospects, I've been conquering territories long before I married your father," Sachiyo cut in strongly. "Your ambition can wait a week or two, you were given the best shinobi our clan has to offer and they are capable of functioning without you. There are important matters within the Uchiha compound in need of discussion, as one of the leaders it is expected of you to be present when the elders have summoned you. You've ignored all the messengers I've sent, I've run out of patience. I have started your war and now I need you to end it with your absence."
"Do you think me a fool?" Tajima snarled. "You expect me to leave now? I should be here to the end. I will be here until these desert lands are under Uchiha control, do you understand? Send as many messengers as you want, come as many times as you see fit. I won't go to the compound until all of this is mine."
Izuna sighed, watching them argue in calm, even tones from across the room. It was the only thing they did whenever they met. The one thing missing from the scene, which would otherwise complete it, was Madara. He would find some way to weed his way into the argument and shout up a storm. All three of them were the same.
Family reunions were the worst, especially when he was forced to sit through it all in silence.
Izuna prepared himself to stay put for another hour before they exhausted themselves when a lookout stormed into the room, windswept and covered in sand. He looked to have run quite a distance to reach their headquarters.
"Tajima-sama, Sachiyo-sama, there's been news from Eijiro's party!" he announced.
"What is it?" the two snapped, as ferocious as wild beasts.
The messenger looked startled. "It's Eijiro-sama," he stammered. "Eijiro-sama was wounded by shinobi of the Mikazuki clan."
"What?" Sachiyo turned to the poor man fully, staring him down. "The Mikazuki clan."
"Which is the Mikazuki clan?" asked Izuna, at a loss.
"A mercenary clan in the Frost Country," Tajima answered, eying him as if he expected him to know. "They work for shinobi clans with territories."
"What state is he in?" asked Sachiyo, addressing the lookout as she folded her arms over her chest, inching forward.
"It's a terrible wound, they say it might have festered and a fever that could leave him dead in a matter of days," he informed. "He has issued for the entire clan to be in the compound before he arrives with his team. He has sent a dozen messengers to spread the summons."
Sachiyo turned to Tajima. "Don't you dare think of ignoring this one," she threatened with a scathing look.
Tajima returned the look. "Find Katsura, send him on ahead with three men."
The messenger left them quickly.
"Even I know when a shift of power occurs," he said snidely, striding out of the room.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Izuna asked eagerly, dread coiling in the pit of his stomach.
"Eijiro split the rule of the clan into four to appease the clashing powers and so he named us Elders, but we all knew it wouldn't be long before the old bastard died so instead of fighting against his decision, we bent to his will," Sachiyo explained, toneless and cold. "He survived three Elders since then and now he's gotten himself wounded by a group of amateur shinobi. I'm almost sad to see the irony in this."
"But you've known Eijiro-san long," Izuna started, befuddled, "I thought you were friends."
"Friends to the world. Who would respect a group of leaders if they spent the whole time fighting?" she stated, turning to the entrance. "The summons must have reached Madara and Mio; they will probably be at the compound by the time we arrive."
"What's going to happen?"
"Easy, so long as Mio remains loyal to me, nothing will happen," Sachiyo remarked, "but if Eijiro does die, I believe her aunt will attempt to take her from my jurisdiction and we cannot have that. Let's hope that brother of yours has some sense and keeps her away from that witch."
"But what if Konoe takes her away?" he pressed. "Will we see her?"
"Expect you won't see her again," said Sachiyo, voice changing into something dark but strong, "and if you do, it'll be dead. Konoe will go wherever Hiryuu goes and Hiryuu will find proper reason to dispose of the useless. Mio, despite her accomplishments, is considered useless."
Izuna swallowed hard. The clan's state of affairs was as brittle as glass; the tiniest push would have it smashed on the ground with its sharp edges flying in every direction.
He jumped to his feet and pursued his grandmother to further the conversation, but there was only so much more he could learn. Sachiyo admitted that information was scarce when it came to the Mikazuki clan, but they did share a common trait, one she said was the only thing known about them apart from their name.
"They etch their clan's crest on their skin as soon as they are recognized as shinobi," Sachiyo explained. "A crescent slashed right down the middle, carved right into their skin."
Izuna wrinkled his brow. It sounded familiar. "A crescent?"
"A crescent cut down the middle," she repeated. "A permanent mark on their skin. I hear their practices are savage, completely unheard of."
"I think I have heard of them," Izuna hummed, trying to remember why they sounded so familiar.
"Have you? Where?"
"I don't know, but I swear I heard someone talk about the crest." He hated his inability to remember, but the more he tried to do so, the farther away the answer seemed. "Did you tell me about it?"
"No."
Izuna gave up halfway down a slope where his father had gathered his men to explain the situation. He watched Katsura and three men jump into the long road out of sight. The remaining shinobi were split into four large groups, each assigned a specific task. The first led by the second most trusted man under his father command would remain in the Wind Country with the few strong shinobi Tajima could spare to ensure their territory remained untouched. The second group, led by Sachiyo would make contact with members of the Ito clan, which left Izuna baffled.
Halfway through Tajima preparing the third group, Izuna leaned closer to his grandmother in search of answers. "Why the Ito clan?"
"Your father is preparing for the worst outcome," Sachiyo explained. "The Ito clan have never been our allies, but if we can convince them to work with us we could be a strong opposing force. Pay close attention to your father, despite his faults, he is a capable leader."
Izuna nodded, a tad insulted by the double meaning. He could see it in all their eyes—his men—the amount of respect they had for him. Any one of them would easily revolt if his father failed where it was expected of him to succeed. Or maybe, they're just scared he'll kill them all if they don't listen, Izuna thought, feeling his face betray his thoughts as he stared at his father's wide back. That could be it.
Sachiyo huffed. "You should also be prepared for the worst."
Perhaps, he was far too young to understand what his grandmother meant at that moment because it all sounded like the adults were overreacting to a light rain. Uchiha Eijiro was known for being practically immortal; no potentially dangerous wounds have ever been a threat to his life.
Izuna wasn't exactly prepared for the worst, nor did he feel inclined to do so. He was more worried about Madara and Mio's wellbeing. I hope they don't use the clan's imbalance to wage war on each other. He wouldn't put it past them.
And then he heard his father call his name, assigning him as the leader to a team of fifteen shinobi twice his age. "You will meet with Eijiro's men at the border," he finished, looking at him straight in the eyes. The amount of responsibility placed on his shoulders was nerve-racking and something he could have easily done without in his entire lifetime. "As soon as you arrive, send a man to report to me and your grandmother. Send as many reports as you deem relevant to Eijiro's health."
"Yes, sir."
The fourth group, with himself at the helm, was to meet Katsura at the compound to retrieve Madara. He glanced at Sachiyo, disgruntled. "Kikyo's girl as well," he added. "We need more spies with that sort of potential."
He dismissed the group remaining and approached them before ordering them to their destinations.
"Is that fine with you?" Tajima asked, the question directed at his mother.
Sachiyo looked at him full, disdainful. "What are you assuming?"
"I know keeping that girl wasn't simply for show," he replied easily. "It's appropriate. For Madara."
Izuna watched his grandmother's expression darken. "Are you insinuating I raised that girl to marry Madara?" She sounded completely insulted. "I did not make her my student so I could marry her off to Madara? What nonsense are you spouting? She has her rights as much as he does."
"I wouldn't be against it. She's a special girl, better than a common woman."
Sachiyo looked as though she were about to slap Tajima, but the anger dissipated as soon as it appeared. "No, they've been together for six long years, to have bonds as strong as siblings with her, though they fight and argue all day long, it's normal. They're young adults. I won't sacrifice what they've built on for an arranged marriage, not in their line of work."
Tajima looked unconvinced. "Think about it, Kikyo's brat or the first whore Madara sleeps with? It's not difficult to choose the better option. Two Uchiha breed stronger children."
Izuna felt his grandmother turn him away by the arm. "Hurry, Izuna, you're traveling the farthest," she advised, keeping her eyes on Tajima. "There's no need for you to continue listening to your father's nonsense."
Without idling, he gathered the men assigned to him and for the first time felt the power in authority as they obeyed his orders. It might have been secondary authority that some may have issue to with him being young, but there was no way of describing the feeling of being able to lead a group of talented shinobi on a mission. This was nothing like his mission with Chika and the Wave Country. It was something fragile and took more responsibility than he had ever been able to exercise.
The reality of the situation was that it was a complete nightmare. Eijiro's mortal wound was a deep carve across his torso that would have killed a normal man instantly, but he remained, feverish and enduring excruciating pain with a few final requests. He prepared himself for death he had not expected until his hands were gnarled and the skin on his face was sagging, until age dictated his end and not his career as a shinobi. He expected Taiga to be someone worthy of power because he knew times were changing and the clan needed someone strong leading them if they planned to be the everlasting warrior clan, not a chapter in history depicting their reign and fall.
Izuna sent as many reports as needed with Eijiro's trusted men and spent most of the time staying out of the way while remaining observant. His grandmother asked him to prepare for the worst, but he didn't know what that was yet. He wasn't sure what to do. How could he prepare for something he knew nothing about? He could only take on the challenge blindly and hope it wasn't as perilous a road as described.
As Eijiro's health started deteriorating fast, he called one of his attendants. "Has he returned yet?" he asked gruffly, voice fading into weakness. "Has he returned with the girl?"
Izuna imagined he wanted to see the people he loved before he died, so it didn't surprise him that he was asking for Minako. Ever since the girl had been born, he had been incredibly fond of her. So he waited alongside the rest of his guards, for the little girl with the plump cheeks and cheery disposition to brighten up his final hours.
But in the end, his assumption had been incorrect. Minako wasn't the person he asked for, it was someone else, someone he didn't expect to see trekking through the muddied campground with disheveled hair and panting for breath.
Izuna jumped to his feet as soon as he recognized Mio from the distance and started toward her with quick, sure steps that squished noisily under the soft earth. The shinobi that guided her into the camp was swarmed by medical-nin as soon as he was spotted and instead of showing her the rest of the way, he pointed out the largest tent in their campsite. Following close behind, he noticed belatedly, was Madara reaching out to grab her by the arm to force her into longer strides when he took the lead.
"Mio!" Izuna called, not yet close. "Madara!"
They searched their surroundings and found him quickly. Mio jerked out of Madara's hold and rushed to him. She threw her arms around him in a bone-crushing hug and in it he felt her warmth and her heart pounding wildly in her chest. He wound his arms around her, hoping to soothe her rampant heartbeat as he shot his brother a suspicious look. Did he do something to her?
Mio pulled away, holding onto his arms and looked over her shoulder to Madara.
"How long have you been here?" Madara asked, as if on cue.
"Around three days," he answered, feeling Mio's hands leave their place on him and she moved further away, closer to Madara. Without knowing, he knew and without realizing, he remembered Mio was the person that described the Mikazuki clan's crest to him once with vivid memory.
He reached out for her as soon as the memory formed in his mind. They were seated side by side on the coldest night they had ever endured in their home and they had shared enough experiences since her arrival to merit that split moment of sadness. For as long as he had known her, Mio had neither talked about her parents nor mourned their deaths as was expected. But she did then as she detailed the experience with her heart beating a mile a minute and eyes as glassy as a moon reflected in a pond. He thought she might cry, but she didn't. For someone with a reputation for crying over nonsense, she didn't shed a single tear when it mattered.
"…I dreamt of the mark on his back carved in my skin and of blood raining from the ceiling—I don't remember how it happened anymore. I just know that it did and even if I couldn't assert it, I could feel it. I never saw my parents' murder, I felt it."
Izuna's hand clasped her wrist. "They say the split crescent belongs to the Mikazuki clan," he said quickly, watching the confusion give way to clarity. "The Mikazuki clan wounded Eijiro—"
Mio tugged her hand away and without looking at either brother, she ran straight to the largest tent in their camp.
"What was that about?" Madara demanded.
"One of the Mikazuki killed her mom and dad," he said, starting after her. He picked up the pace, forcing his brother to a slight jog. "She has a right to know."
Madara followed him through the flap in the tent. Eijiro was as he had been the last he saw him, surrounded by those trying their best to keep him alive, but as Mio approached and he opened his dark, weary eyes, they brightened. Mio found a seat beside him, watching as he lifted a hand to her. She gently took it in hers and rested it over her lap. He tried to speak, but there was blood and his voice was a strangled noise.
Mio leaned forward, pressing her ear close to his face, willing to listen.
"I thought he might want to see Minako," Izuna admitted.
"Mio did too."
"Why did he ask for her?"
Madara shrugged his shoulders. "Who knows?"
Izuna settled, keeping his eyes locked on Mio's face in search for a change in her expression. There was none. She hid her emotions well.
Mio drew back slowly, looking down at Eijiro one last time as he spoke once more, louder now. "Find him. He has no one else."
"But Taiga—" she started in protest.
"No!" Eijiro coughed violently, his attendant rushed to keep him calm, but he pushed aside all help. He latched onto Mio's arm. He faced her and with the last speck of light remaining in his eyes, he gave her finality. "You should not live without freedom."
Mio drew back, befuddled, but Eijiro held on as his words turned into incoherent babble and the fever gave him a final push towards death.
Everything happened far too quickly. Izuna felt as though he had been the only one standing still as the medic-nin tried their best to challenge death and Madara was dragging Mio back onto her feet, exerting his right do demand from her.
Izuna followed his brother's actions as soon as he brushed past him, giving Mio a push out of the tent. Time hadn't slowed down. It was all in his head. But maybe if it had, Eijiro could have made his peace.
Izuna stepped out of the tent to the tense atmosphere outside and Madara and Mio's sudden burst of anger. The sight of it irritated him.
"It's none of your business," Mio blurted.
It was the first time he ever saw her look so angry.
Madara's grip on her arm looked painful, but it only seemed to tighten in his exasperation. "We have an agreement!"
"I don't have to tell you anything." She jerked her arm back, trying to break his hold. She failed and the pain registered in her face. "Let go."
Izuna intervened, finding impatience in his voice.. "Madara, let her go."
"Why would Eijiro call for her of all people?" he asked, facing him. "She was a nobody to him up until six years ago."
"She spent six years going to and from the compound. He cared about her," Izuna explained, annoyed. He learned to deal with this side of his brother, but today, he didn't have the patience to ignore it. "Don't throw a fit because you have to know everything. Grow up."
Saying it aloud was liberating. For as long as they had been together, Izuna tiptoed around his brother's faults—and he had many—to stay in his good graces, but something inside him snapped for that split second. He needed to say it. Madara needed to learn that the world didn't revolve around him and thus, nobody had to answer to him. Mio was entitled to her silence. Whatever Eijiro told her had been personal, which meant she had a right to keep it to herself.
And for it being the first insult he ever uttered towards his brother, Izuna remained guiltless.
Madara took the insult and exploded with anger. He let Mio go and grabbed him by the shirt.
Izuna jerked toward him a second before Madara's fist connected with his face. His jaw throbbed from the first impact and as the second came, everything went numb.
Mio grabbed Madara's arm, shouting at him to stop, but he didn't see reason. He shoved her aside and snapped back to his brother.
Izuna had done the one thing Madara never expected him to do and that was look down on him. There was no regret in his eyes or in his body, he stood by his comment and beating him bloody wouldn't make the difference. Madara would be proving him right. He was just throwing a fit like a giant baby.
Involuntarily, he laughed. It angered Madara more, but he was numb and at sudden peace that his brother's shouts were a mere ringing in his ears.
How long the one-sided fight had gone on, he didn't know. It took two shinobi to pull Madara off him when a medic-nin emerged from the tent with bloodied hands and confirmation of Eijiro's death.
Izuna wiped the blood from his mouth, feeling Mio's presence at his side. He looked at her. "Come with me," he said, eyes locked.
Mio turned away from him to face Madara, who had broken free from the shinobi restraining him. The secret agreement between them built a tension between himself and Mio. He hated it because he felt that she needed to travel with him to whatever location his father sent him to after he reported, but the look on her face betrayed her hesitation.
"I—"
Her eyes weren't clouded in doubt; they were deep dark coals full of resolution. There was something she had to do and she planned to pretend she considered the offer.
Izuna moved away from her, strangely furious. "Don't lie to me," he said sharply, getting back onto his feet. "Just get away from me."
He didn't look at either Madara or Mio as he made preparations to send another messenger to his father and grandmother. He tried not to think about the feeling of rejection crawling out from the pit of his stomach and lodging in his throat. Mio had always been his friend. She would choose him over Madara without a second thought. And the one moment that he needed—seriously needed—her to travel with him, she chose Madara.
They were returning to the compound. Madara said it loud enough for the message to reach him.
"Let's go, Mio," Madara ordered.
Izuna never thought of punching his brother outside of training, but that evening as Eijiro's death marked the start of a new chapter for the Uchiha clan, he wanted nothing more than to drown him.
Mio said nothing in response; she followed Madara in silence as if she were his shadow. She made no noise of her own and had no presence to speak of—she was the ghost again, shrunken away to nothingness by all the people whose blind faith turned her to espionage. And the guilt of seeing this and having spoken to her that way gnawed at his insides, but he couldn't let the emotion read in his expression.
It shouldn't have mattered as much as it did. Izuna tried pretending it didn't.
xl: Sorry for the wait. It's been a while, hasn't it? I hope this somehow makes up for the time, though it's shorter than I expected and didn't follow my original outline, but these things happen. I hope you enjoyed it.
I did what I came here to do, naming the Mikazuki clan, Eijiro's inevitable death, Tajima's introduction and the start of Izuna's maturing process.
My thanks to YamiKitsuneKami, Warrior of Sangre, nightchildx, Aries01xD, Wilting Insanity and Aista for reviewing! :)
Having said that this was supposed to be longer, I wrote quite literally the stupidest Madara and Izuna scene in life in which they properly acknowledge Mio's gender as female, having never seen her as such. I really wanted to add it in for the sake of lightening things up before carrying on with my plans, but sadly, the changes in this chapter left me with few choices.
Izuna continues narrating in the next chapter where we get a glimpse into his friendship with Mio during the timeskip years and how well they fared as a trio as well as more general plot. And hopefully some more clan drama. :)
See you soon!
Thank you for reading. :)