This chapter features a lot of characters, please refer to the character list (link in my profile) to refresh your memory. I apologize for not having a quick summary of previous chapters either...I honestly couldn't think of anything. This is all self-explanatory, so I don't think you will get lost.
1-17-14 Edit - I have been writing Kikuchi instead of Kikumi since the last chapter and I apologize. Ayuka's successor is called Kikumi and I have remedied the mistake. If anyone catches me doing this again, feel free to yell at me.
Chapter 27: On the Battlefield V
Uchiha Madara met with Katsura after his brief encounter with Enki. Together they gathered their clan and the Ito clan under their command to make final preparations for the mission. The plan was easy in the sense that it wouldn't be. They were up against the Senju clan and as long as it and the Uchiha clan existed, they were always evenly matched in combat. This was the type of warfare Madara was familiar with, he understood how to navigate a battle against the Senju and how to pick apart the weaker shinobi from the strong, and he knew how to counteract most of what would be thrown at him from previous encounters with the Senju's arsenal of powerful jutsu. However, seeing that knowledge as an advantage was as good as not having any because the Senju were, if anything, experts in ninjutsu. It was their niche. They were masters of thousands of jutsu, and although his Sharingan offered him something of an upper hand, it had a tendency of falling short of Senju Hashirama's Mokuton.
If Madara planned for anyone to reach the Southern Temple successfully, he would need to focus entirely on keeping Hashirama as far from the holy ground as possible. He trusted Katsura would be capable enough to push through all defenses surrounding the temple. Kousei, the Northern Temple's High Priest, and several of his best priests and priestesses would be available to Katsura as backup, and Takuei and his Ito clan would become Madara's, though he promised it would be unnecessary.
Takuei and his men, accompanied by a dozen Uchiha, set out first on Madara's orders. Down the treacherous cliff side and into the acid earth below, the shinobi sprang forward and out of sight into the hazy horizon. Among the Uchiha men, he included members of intelligence who would send back word via summon once the Ito clan secured all enemy locations.
Madara waited by the cliff side for the first message when Mikami Seiko appeared in full shinobi armor, behind him several members of his clan followed. Seiko wore a severe-looking scar across his temple like a badge of honor on his tightlipped expression. Not too far behind, Enki slithered his way to him with an easy grin and his flowing robes fluttering behind him. Yayoi trudged along the beaten path with a deep frown, holding up her pale skirts in an attempt to spare the expensive fabrics the mud damage.
"I haven't heard much action," Enki mused, his cold eyes falling on him in accusation. "Don't tell me you met with trouble? And I have so much faith in your abilities, Madara-kun. This is near shameful."
Madara bit back a reproach. No matter how tempted he was to ask the pig to retrieve his own scroll, he recognized the need for the alliance with the Motou clan was far greater than his desire to kill Enki. "Takuei's group has already been sent out to scout. A subgroup will break off to engage the Senju and Sone clan when I receive new information," he explained evenly.
"And you?" queried Enki, his tone layered with enough curiosity to hide the mockery underlying the question. "What will you do?"
"I'll move as soon as Senju Hashirama is spotted and distract him from the battle," he answered, too aware of everyone watching.
"Senju Hashirama? The Mokuton user?" the king mused, looking at Seiko.
"Yes, heika." He added the proper honorific to lessen the sharpness of his tone.
Enki had assigned him to front the mission, appealed to the whole of his most trusted companions and the Sun Country's newest allies that only someone as familiar as Madara would be capable of maneuvering through the horde of Senju shinobi, but now, he made a mockery of him. He talked to him as if he were a child in need of schooling, as though this was the first war he participated in, as if he had only gained his advantageous position because of the people that put him there—Enki, for example. Madara had no idea if Enki wanted him to grovel at his feet.
What did he expect to gain from humiliating him?
The Sun King cast a fleeting glance at Seiko. "Seiko-san, take your men and Kikumi-san here"—gracing her with a thin smile, he had unnerved the freckled priestess—"and capture the Mokuton user." His gaze swept back to him, a winning look. "Madara-kun, you will focus on the retrieval of the scroll—"
"Heika—"
"No," Enki said cuttingly. "You will obey."
Madara's hands coiled at his sides until his knuckles blanched. His nails brought him discomfort as they dug crescent shapes against his palm. Resisting the urge to start something he would regret, he stood there, the center of all attention, and he swallowed hard, the bile burning down his throat.
"Yes, heika," he spat.
Enki smiled, victorious, and walked away to meet his attendants, laughing boisterous at something one of his advisers must have said. Nobody spoke, only stared, and Madara turned away.
"Kikumi, come," Seiko's deep baritone rang above the buzz of voices.
"Yes, Seiko-san," came Kikumi's nervous reply.
Madara returned to find Katsura to leave him with a new plan before abandoning the larger group to regain what little composure he had remaining.
"He is doing it on purpose." Yayoi sidled to him. She glanced at her father's back as if to prove a point. "He knows it bothers you and that is why he is doing it. If you were indifferent, he would grow bored." She tied the bottom of her robes carefully with the excess fabric falling down her right hip, securing it from any further damage. "I heard he used to taunt Seiko, who had an explosive temper until he stopped caring."
Indifference, he thought, then cast a look off his shoulder to Kikumi, who was being briefed by Seiko. "Why her?"
"Kikumi is a priestess like Ayuka-sama—born to combat. She is more her student than I am," Yayoi explained. In the last couple of days he had learned that there were two types of priestesses—those that healed, like Yayoi, and those that killed, like Ayuka. "I would hate to be that Mokuton user. He won't stand a fighting chance."
"Why?" asked Madara.
"Kikumi's going to be stronger than Ayuka-sama," Yayoi told him with a grin. "She can fight alongside her now. That Senju boy is as good as captured."
"What use is he captured?" questioned Madara.
"Father will keep him for sport." At his disturbed expression, she elaborated with an exasperated sign. "My father likes to make prisoners real-live training dummies for all the kinjutsu users. So, I think he better start counting his blessings because nobody gets out of that prison alive."
Yayoi didn't even flinch as she said that.
"Truthfully, he was starting to get tired with his current crop," she added. "We also have a lot of new kinjutsu-users in need of practice and throwing them all out into this war is only decreasing their numbers. They're inexperienced and make simple mistakes that get them killed. Some can't even use kinjutsu correctly, so they're at a disadvantage." She shrugged. "Thinking it thoroughly, I hope the Mokuton user survives the initiation. I think he'd make a good pastime."
Madara grimaced, catching wind of the implication. "You haven't had enough with Katsura, have you?"
Yayoi smiled like a perverted old man and slapped his arm. "There is enough of me to go around!"
"Go away," he said, irritated, "you're an embarrassment."
The priestess giggled and sauntered to catch up with her father.
Madara wasted no time. He took charge of a new team, tasking Katsura with taking another group through the main battlefield as backup for Seiko, and with one final glance in the king's direction, he dove straight for the poison earth over the cliff side. The others were quick to follow, landing in a semi-circle behind him prepared for a dangerous mission of their own.
Madara was certain he was already perceived as a fool with Enki's relentless efforts to humiliate him and his conduct pre-mission supported the king's consensus. He was acting like a foolish idiot, like an amateur in the art of war. He finally felt like a normal, sixteen-year-old boy playing war games—an ignorant boy. Allowing his personal grief to play a factor in any part of this arrangement by taking rein of his actions would not ensure his survival in Enki's twisted world.
Accepting this newfound knowledge infuriated him, but rather than acting on his frustration—proving Enki right in mocking him—he emptied his mind of the unnecessary, recalling a time, seemingly forever ago when he stood beside his brother and Mio among the tall grass at his grandmother's countryside estate.
Sachiyo had brought Mio home from the Swamplands. He and his brother had been summoned home where they would be briefed on a new mission, one he had hoped would not involve Mio. She had little field experience and he had known she would drag them down, so he had prepared an argument as soon as his grandmother had begun to talk, but the opportunity had not arisen.
Mio had not been chosen to be an active participant in the mission. She had been picked to mete messages between them and the compound.
"And Madara, one more thing," Sachiyo had said, "keep a leveled head. I don't have the time or energy to plead the council to excuse another one of your mistakes."
The mistake she had spoken of had been one that cost many lives, but the experience had brought more power to his Sharingan. So, he had not been too keen about making apologies.
"Mio, I need you to meet Jouji at the compound to give you any new information on the situation," Sachiyo had ordered as she walked away. "You will meet Madara and Izuna if you have anything to report."
Mio had nodded.
"I'm going to get more weapons," Izuna had announced, patting Madara on the shoulder and smiling at Mio, who moved away to let him pass.
"Shouldn't you get going?" Madara had asked, irritated.
Mio had stepped up to him and for the first time, it had seemed he had heard her voice clearly. "Avoid the nonsensical. Obey power. Erase the unnecessary."
"What?"
"My mother and father used to say it. It is my secret mantra," she had told him with a small smile. "There is no need to overthink everything. You have to do what you are told, you have to obey those in power, and forget everything that might be a hindrance, like your impatience."
Madara had nearly strangled her for talking down to him, but Sachiyo had caught him trying it and had punished them both, him for being violent with Mio and her, for not having followed her instructions. He had grumbled about her stupid advice the entire mission, but had not spoken a word of it.
Recalling that moment brought her mantra back into his mind: Avoid the nonsensical, obey power, and erase the unnecessary. If that was what it took for him to calm the growing tempest in him, he would follow her secret mantra.
He cleared his head of the memory and her secret smile, of his strenuous relationship with Enki, and of his desire to fight Senju Hashirama. The mission objective returned to mind: retrieve the secret scroll from the Southern Temple and kill anyone who opposes.
Madara pushed through the Sone and Senju's defenses in the surrounding forest, fighting swiftly with the aid of his Sharingan and his mastery of kenjutsu. The thrill of the battlefield woke in him once more, burning ardently with each formidable opponent he encountered. He savored the fight, the strategy of it, and overcoming the strain of his current limitations.
He survived several battles unscathed, but the Sone clan were powerful taijutsu users and he had several dents in what remained of his armor to serve as proof.
Madara's team continued onward until one of his messengers returned from the heated battlefield. He stopped to listen, ordering the rest of his squad forward. In a matter of minutes, his team would thread the dead portion of the sylvan.
"Seiko's squad captured the Mokuton user," the messenger informed him, breathless and battle worn. "Katsura's squad will challenge the priestesses in ten minutes."
"Five," Madara said. "He will make it in five and storm the castle. My squad will be ready to provide backup."
The messenger departed with the new information.
Madara sprang forward, running through the remainder of the clean forest to catch up to his team. Once among them, he gave them new orders and took the lead once more, guiding them in haste.
He saw the cut-off between the forests from a distance. The giant trees were tightly woven in white clothes and above their heads a spider web of chinking tablets bearing a Motou seal had forced them to a halt.
Madara gestured up for the others and scaled the nearest tree, reaching a branch high enough to overlook the black grime beyond the high wall of mud blocking their path.
The remaining forest smelled of rotting trees and burned flesh. Below, the floor was a thick, black substance that reminded him of the dark spiral towers the Kuronuma clan used against him seemingly so long ago. He recalled being burned by their cursed black water and being certain it would take his arm whole, not simply the flesh on his bones. The pain had been excruciating and it had haunted him for quite some time.
Staring at the dark pit, remembering the dull ache in his arm, he grew wary. This was nothing like the chakra sucking earth on the battlefield. This was someone's attempt at mimicking Kuronuma techniques and he didn't want to find out how effective they were in accomplishing it.
"The ground if forbidden," Madara informed him squad. "Follow my lead."
"The trees are rotting," one Ito shinobi exclaimed. "They won't support our weight."
It was a perilous road, but he saw why he had been guided towards it. The dangers within it were far too great for others to follow them through it, or even think of planning an ambush down the road.
"Then make yourself scarce," Madara advised, jumping into the first branch in front of him.
No sooner had he shifted his weight onto it that he heard it snap and he leapt onto another above, swinging from it onto another further from his squad. He turned in time to see the second limb plummet to the bubbling surface below.
It would be treacherous.
As he stared across the boiling sea at his reluctant squad, he knew this would become a graveyard to many. Himself included if he wasn't careful. Beneath him the base of the thick branch begun to splinter.
"No stopping," he called back to his team.
Madara maneuvered the rotting forest carefully, while others weren't as fortunate in landing on sturdy limbs to carry them onward. He witnessed several men fall to their deaths and watched as their skin turned ruby red until it fell away in chunks leaving behind white bone and expressions frozen in agony. The screams echoed through the forest like a haunt for trapped souls and it shattered the spirits of his most panicked shinobi.
He carried on with what remained of his squad and arrived to the edge of the forest, climbing the highest tree to a view of scattered bodies littered over the chakra-sucking murk that pulled them under with the laziness of quicksand. The mounting corpses looked the same, like something had sucked the life out of them with their skin tightened over their bones and their eyes bursting from their sockets. Some bodies looked so severe their skin was peeling off, but none of those sights were as terrible as what he saw inside the dead forest, watching the boiling liquid melt the flesh off his squad member's bones turned his stomach.
He thought he had seen the worst of war before, but this experience had proved him wrong. The battlefields here were vicious and an obstacle all on their own, his opponents were kinjutsu users that wouldn't care about sacrificing their life if it meant winning for their cause. This was war on a different scale, on a magnitude of humans against gods.
Plumes of black smoke rose from the Southern Castle, the high walls protecting it were in shambles, stacks of rubble, tumbling down with each reverberation strumming through the earth. The tower he remembered shrouded in darkness the day he slipped past its weakened defenses to kill Jikai. He took another man's blade to do the job—a sword of spectacular craftsmanship that bore the budding sprout insignia of the Sone clan. It cut like a dream and was weightless in his hands as if it were an extension of his arm.
"You have chosen the wrong brother to kill," the dead man echoed. Seeing the castle in its withered state brought his first and last memories of Jikai's final moments before he caught the blade Madara had swung to claim his life. "Kill Enki." The sheer amount of power in the man's grip had filled him with uncertainty. He had no control over the sword in the time Jikai had held it in his hand. "Kill him before he kills you."
Madara saw the truth. Jikai had left him with valuable advice, but it was not the time to think of killing Enki. Kill him before he kills me. The thought crossed him mind as he surveyed the field, spotting Katsura in the distance reading his attack against the Sone protecting what remained of their stronghold.
Among them, he recognized Sone Heita, Jikai's son and Enki's nephew, as the man leapt over the rubble to thwart Katsura's advances. Madara gestured downward, and he and his remaining squad jumped straight into the battlefield where they were spotted immediately.
He rushed several oncoming Sone shinobi, knocking anyone that came near him as far as possible. His remaining squad ran ahead to clear a path wide enough for him to slip into the Southern Temple.
The final line of defense came to him in the form of six shinobi, split into pairs, attacking him with a combination of taijutsu and ninjutsu of various natures. He admired the quick strokes of a lightning-based attack that sliced the armor plate off his shoulder, was thrilled to feel the ground start to quake under his feet, and consumed by the conviction in another's hand-to-hand style.
Madara learned the movements of his taijutsu, the subtly of them, and mirrored them against its master, eliciting a bark of laughter at first until Madara used a similar kick to break several of his ribs before he took him out of his misery by stabbing a kunai into his neck.
He fought the Raiton user with an arsenal of his best fire techniques, obliterating broken buildings and leaving ashes in their wake, as the remaining four shinobi, all Motou clansmen, gathered around the temple to erect a barrier to protect it. The Raiton user wounded him several times over, but Madara repaid him when he fell into a trap of explosive tags he had strategically attached as he ran around the courtyard of the broken castle. His enemy fell to the ground with a thud, expelling clouds of gray smoke from charred skin and seared clothing.
The remaining shinobi were prepared for him when he appeared to challenge them, not bothering to protect their temple anymore as they launched their attacks at him.
Members of his squad made an entrance with pressing news.
"The Senju are in sight!" one shouted.
Time was running out. Knowing this, he commanded his comrades to take over his battles as he ran into the temple. Its protectors tried to deny him entrance, but his men drew their attention away from him, distracting them long enough for Madara to enter a gigantic hall full of screeching children.
The room was bright with the light of thousands of candles and fragrant with millions of petals adorning the ground. He saw the golden statues of the Motou deities and the offerings placed before them. Boys and girls sat huddled in a circle protected by an old man as decorated as Kousei, a man who temporarily served as High Priest of this temple, but he stood dignified, different from the obnoxious Kousei. The old priest quieted the children with a wave of his hand and whispered words before turning his full attention to him.
"What are your intentions, boy?" called the priest, his voice a powerful echo in the hall.
"The scroll," Madara responded, moving toward the priest leaving behind a trail of blood, his and his enemies. "I want the temple's scroll."
The priest raised a hand. "Move no further."
He halted, his gaze straying to a snowy haired boy with pale rose eyes—a Kuronuma boy. In his arms, he spotted a thick scroll sitting atop a strange jagged weapon.
"Give me the scroll," called the priest.
The Kuronuma boy jumped to his feet and placed the scroll in his outstretched hand. Madara saw the Kuronuma insignia sewn onto the boy's white coat. He did not like being in the presence of a Kuronuma, not when it seemed he did not belong in the group of robed children, but he tried not to think of it.
"This is the scroll you seek, it is not a fake," the priest began, offering it to him. "If you take it, take it for yourself. Do not allow Enki to have it. He will attempt to control the beast and it will destroy us all."
Madara took it from him without a second thought and turned away, seeing no point in killing the man. Outside he called his troops and together, they absconded in the dead forest as the Senju spilled into an empty castle, facing a great loss.
- : - : -
Madara delivered the Southern Temple's scroll to Enki in person. The self-proclaimed king stared at him in feigned wonder, despite the malice underlying his tone exposed his displeasure in seeing him alive. He stood before him without any intention of prostrating himself as was expected of him being in the king's presence.
"You are an impressive shinobi, Madara-kun," he intoned, lips quirked into an awkward smile.
He tossed the scroll at him, watching him catch it clumsily. "I am leaving the Sun Country," he announced, turning away in his determination to take himself out of Enki's mess.
"You will not," Enki shouted. "I forbid it!"
He ignored the king and reached the exit.
"Stop him! Apprehend him!" yelled the king, infuriated. "Kikumi! Go!"
Motou shinobi appeared from the staircase, blocking his path, and stepping up to the entrance was Kikumi dressed in a new set of robes that dragged along the ground. He could hear Yayoi shouting in the background.
"Please, Madara-san, I would rather not use force," Kikumi said in a grave tone. The freckled priestess drew one of the medium-sized scrolls off her back, peeling it open at the edges as if in warning.
"Just let him go!" Yayoi protested. "He hasn't done anything!"
Madara stood rooted in his place, keeping his eyes on Kikumi and ignoring the rest.
Avoid the nonsensical. Obey power. Erase the unnecessary. Again, Mio's mantra echoed in his mind and the tension in his muscles relaxed.
Kikumi looked at ease and stepped forward, sliding her scroll back into its place on her back.
In the short span of time that it took for her it away, he formulated a plan and turned himself into the surprised priestess, whose only orders were to send him underground with the others. He could still hear Yayoi screaming at her father as he descended the castle tower's staircase in grim silence surrounded by Motou shinobi itching for a reason to attack him. The sound of her shouting ended abruptly, after Enki gave someone an order to silence her and return her to the village.
Katsura demanded an explanation outside the tower, one a Motou shinobi was too pleased to say had been an act of defiance and disrespect, followed by a warning about the brittle state of their alliance.
"It won't last long if this one doesn't learn to respect our king," he had added with finality.
Madara let his wrath boil and die inside him, pleased to see none of the Uchiha were satisfied by his imprisonment, though the same could not be said about the Ito, as he was escorted through the mountain road and down another path. It was a treacherous one if one did not know the trail as the walkway was crumbling and above, it rained pebbles, stones, and boulders.
He was taken through a cave entrance into a foyer of brown, rocky walls lined with blazing torches that cut through stagnant darkness. The ground beneath his feet surprised him with sleek, slippery patches that sparkled under the firelight. Further inside, once the scent of trees and mountain air was cut off from the cave, a foul stench took its place, of rotting flesh, disease, dried blood, and death. He presumed the prisoners Yayoi spoke of earlier were kept deep in the cave and shortly after having the thought, he confirmed it with his own eyes.
Madara stood at the edge the cave path that wove around the circular room like a snake expanded over the rocky walls lined with cells that spanned for several miles below. At the bottom, he saw sand mixed with a white powder the formed the sunburst of the Motou clan and before it was a giant stone throne flanked by rows of benches with the capacity to hold hundreds of people despite looking so small from his view from the top.
Kikumi ordered him cuffed as they ventured down the spiral walkway through the horrors of dying men and women and supplicating wails. He took in the sight of these ailing warriors and better comprehended his mistake in joining Enki's side. He had done it recklessly, believing he was enough to handle it, but he had been wrong in his arrogance.
One cage was opened for him, its face an arrangement of horizontal and vertical bars.
"The beams are reinforced," Kikumi explained. "Not even a Kuronuma could break them."
Madara stepped inside and watched the entrance close with a loud scrape of metal echoing through the room.
The other shinobi were quick to leave, most complaining about the smell or the creepy ambience, others went on to heckle the other prisoners. Kikumi stayed behind with a serious expression.
"Heika-sama will probably only have you here overnight," she said courteously. "Don't try to escape. Be patient and heika-sama will surely come to speak with you."
She moved out of sight and gathered the others with a sharp order, leaving out the same way they entered.
Madara turned to the heavy shadows of his squared prison and acknowledged the presence of another person. He took a few steps forward, the dancing light from outside reflected against reddish armor that looked to be crumbling apart, and saw through the darkness at the symbol on the person's collar, the Senju clan's insignia.
Carelessly, he kicked the body over to allow the light to reach him and cursed at the sight of an unconscious Senju Hashirama. The skin of his face was an angry red and a wound near his temple was still bleeding profusely. There weren't any other visible wounds on him, which probably meant he healed a great portion of them before he was captured.
Madara rolled his eyes and walked towards the entrance, staring at the hundreds of cells aligning the walls. He was stuck in some mountain underground imprisoned with his greatest adversary and the only thing he could think of that stupid mantra that put him in there in the first place.
He kicked the metal bars with a furious curse. I'm going to strangle her, he thought and hoped Mio could feel the extent of his anger in the Iron Country. However, he couldn't think of any other reason to have avoided the situation other than obeying Enki on a constant. He didn't have a reason to be angry with Mio when she had nothing to do with his predicament. She had offered him words of advice long ago, ones he wasn't obligated to take, but he did. They had worked to calm his temperament and helped refocus his thoughts in his time of need.
If he had entered the battlefield seething, he would have disobeyed all of Enki's orders and gone straight to fight Hashirama. He wouldn't have retrieved the secret scroll; he wouldn't have met the priest that handed it to him with word of a beast. A beast?
The Sun Country was a haunt for death and secrets. Now there was a beast with the ability to destroy everyone. He couldn't believe such a beast existed and if it did, it would be proof that eight others existed.
Madara's eyes darkened. How sure could he be that there was a tailed beast in the Sun Country? Where would they keep it? How did they capture it? The questions were endless and his interest was piqued. He wondered if the Ito clan knew of this, if that had been the reason for their desire to make them allies. He started to think deeper into it. Could the Senju clan have known?
Hashirama stirred, groaning in pain. "That girl hit hard," he complained, rising into a seat. He blinked into Madara's direction as if trying to focus on him. "What is this place?"
"The Motou clan's prison," Madara said curtly.
The expression on the Senju's face changed. "Madara!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing in here? Aren't you on Enki's side?"
"Don't ask stupid questions." Madara turned away.
Several men and women in the Northern Temple's uniform walked up and down the spiral walkway, taking prisoners from cell or returning them beaten and bloody with all forms of strange wounds.
Hashirama dragged himself towards the entrance, looking petrified at the sight. "What is this place?"
"Enki gives his prisoners to members of the Temple to do with as they wish," he answered.
"This is inhuman!"
Madara gave him that.
"We have to do something to help all these people!" Hashirama decided.
"We?"
"Yes, we!"
Madara bristled at Hashirama's audacity. "I'm not helping you!"
"Why not? There are people dying here!"
"You should be thinking about saving your own skin, not everyone else's!" Madara snapped. "Forget about them! We'll be lucky if one of us gets out alive!"
Hashirama grimaced. "You are here with me," he said stubbornly. "You do not look like you are ready to forfeit your life."
Madara considered Hashirama's aid for a short interval between pieces of his plan returned to remind him of what must be done. It would not be a foolish move, but it would be one he took with great reluctance. Whatever dreams he and Hashirama thought up when they were younger crumbled before the reality of their worlds and as they could be nothing more than mortal enemies, they met in the battlefields over and over until their battles became a spectacle—something known, a force that propelled their reputations into what they were now.
"I am not," Madara admitted. "I will not die. I cannot say the same for you."
"Ha! Is that a challenge?"
"No, it is obvious."
Hashirama shrugged with his hands held up at his sides in the crude gesture. Behind him, he heard the clatter of the wooden cuffs as they fell. "I seem to be doing better than you, so I will take my chances."
The irritation took over Madara like a shroud of rainclouds. "Who the hell do you think you are? Uncuff me right now!" he ordered.
"No need to yell," Hashirama complained. "I was going to do it anyway. Turn around."
Madara cursed beneath his breath far longer than it had taken Hashirama to rid him of his binds and had begun to pace the squared interior of their cell, annoyed at the Senju for having freed himself before him. He would have been able to do it after giving it some thought. The only option he had considered in that sense had been smashing his hands against the wall, but with the sturdiness of the wood, he would have risked hurting his hands and he had plans to use them to blow the whole underground structure to smithereens.
Hashirama stood by the entrance, holding onto the metal. "Where is your brother?" he asked suddenly, turning to him.
Madara stopped abruptly. "What?"
"Your brother," Hashirama repeated. "Your brother can get us out! Where is he?"
"He is where he is supposed to be," Madara answered.
The Senju frowned, but persisted. "What about the girl in the priestess garb—Mio, is it?"
"That is not Mio! Why are you bringing her up?"
"You said she was good at getting around! What if she found a way to get in here and break us all out?" Hashirama deducted. "We can deal with Enki afterward!"
Madara regretted having mentioned Mio to him in conversation. The topic of her had become the center of a misunderstanding in which Hashirama had believed her to be his sister until Madara had attempted to explain and another of the Senju's assumptions had taken its place.
"Stop talking about Mio," Madara said warningly.
"Oh." Hashirama smiled foolishly. "I see you are still sensitive about talking about her. What is she like—?"
"I am not sensitive about Mio—" Judging by the thrill in Hashirama's expression, Madara saw he had said the wrong thing. "She is not important!"
"Nobody talks about a girl that much if they're not important—"
Madara smacked him upside the head. "I do not talk of Mio!"
Hashirama rubbed the back of his head, looking incredibly wounded by his actions.
"Stop sulking, you fool!" Madara huffed. "What about your brother?"
"Tobirama is busy."
"Busy?"
"Busy."
Madara turned away. The conversation was going nowhere.
Voices reached them, soft whispers full of incoherent words, followed by several women clad in their red priestess robes.
Madara and Hashirama watched them through their confides as they made their pick of prisoners and ushered them out, leading several broken men and women pleading for mercy down the spiral walkway. The two stood perfectly still as the sounds echoed from the pit, screams of horror and the disturbing crunch of bones being snapped in two. The rest of the conclave of prisoners moaned in fear all around them, the sound of their voices shook the mountain until a drizzle of dust and stones fell from above their heads.
"Do you think you can leave them here?" asked Hashirama, as the prisoners were dragged back into their cells leaving a bloody trail. "Can you truly be so heartless?"
Staring firmly at an agonizing man whose skin started to fall from his face in chunks, he said, "This is bigger than this prison."
"They are being used!" Hashirama stated, forcing him around. "They are animals to these priests!"
Madara jerked his arm away. "They are not my family."
- : - : -
Motou Ayuka stormed into his chambers like a ball of fire and with a blazing look of suppressed ire, she frightened the woman from under his thrusting into scrambling for the sheets to press against her nakedness. With a quick command, Enki sent the anxious woman out of room and tiredly picked up a robe to drape over his shoulders. Drawing the obi around his large waist, Enki felt the passion drain from him and an annoyance replace it as he gave the priest his undivided attention.
Had this been any other person, he would have had them killed. Ayuka was the Fate Sphere's keeper and rumored to be older than time itself. She was not to be tampered with, else she would do everything in her power to bring about destruction and with the artifact the Kuronuma entrusted to her, she could so without batting an eyelash.
Her silence was as unnerving as landing in a pit of vipers and her discontent their venom sinking into the bloodstream.
"What?" he snapped. "What do you want? What is so important that you could not send one of your messengers?"
Ayuka stepped to him, her presence overpowering, and slapped him. It burned like a venomous bite and left its mark on his face, a glaring red bruise. He was left stupefied by her actions and turned to her slowly, unable to form a coherent response to the grave offense.
"You incompetent fool," she seethed, her hand still held in the air prepared to backtrack its early trajectory to strike him a second time. "You expect for the world to fall upon your lap as you do nothing in your overindulgence. If you want to stay here in your chambers and pin whatever girl you can threaten into submission and command an army of shinobi that hate you without consequence then allow me to do you the favor of taking your head now."
"You are insolent—"
"I am god! And my word is law!"
Ayuka struck him with the back of her hand, the knuckles of it breaking his nose upon contact, and he fell to the ground, onto a table that broke under his weight. The blood gushed from his nose and the pain exploded all over his face. He held a hand to it, feeling bruises going up the left side of his body and cuts from the splintered wood.
Several shinobi serving as his guards poured into the room from all directions, surrounding Ayuka in a threatening stance as two other went to help heave him back onto his feet. He stood shaken; the blood staining down the length of his silk robe, forever damaged, and waved his men away. They were reluctant, despite the evident dismay in the prospect of challenging Ayuka.
"Leave us!" he shouted with a harsher gesture.
Slowly, everyone did as commanded, backing away slowly and abandoning him to his fate with a suppressed sigh. It irritated him, but not as much as the humiliation.
Ayuka composed herself into an image of refinement. She held her head high with a proud mien complimented by the wrath in her eyes and knitted eyebrows. She rubbed her hands together as if removing dirt from them and let them fall daintily at her sides.
"You will explain yourself, Hag," Enki threatened. "I will not stand for your actions or give you audience for much long, so speak now or show yourself out."
"My wisdom is without fault," she said. "I have not failed you. I have guided the Uchiha brothers apart in the expense of their fame to bring the strongest to you and you have paid me in part by disregarding my counsels and throwing him into a pit of death with his rival."
"I cannot stand that boy's arrogance," Enki stated, reminded of the Uchiha boy's stride, the confident air about it. He despised it. "He thinks so highly of himself. Everything is beneath him. He expects to command armies, he is but a child."
"I repeat myself, and let it be the last," Ayuka said strongly. "You expect the world to fall upon your lap without you lifting a finger to attain it. You will accomplish it, in that your impudence is correct, but not only will it fall onto your lap, but bounce off it and into another's hands. And it will be that arrogant boy you so despise that kills you and burns your ignorant little kingdom to the ground."
Enki stared in disbelief. "You lie!" he accused. "You said he would pose no threat to us!"
"If the Motou clan leaves no descendants, it will be on your head." Ayuka exhaled. "Pathways change through actions and decisions and you have moved him through wave upon wave of change that has led to this result, you despicable lout."
He sank into a seat, weakened by her words, and started to listen.
"You asked me to bring Uchiha Mio to you," she said coldly, "and to do so you will need Madara on this island. There is no other way."
"How can you be so certain?" he cursed.
Throwing Madara underground with the others had come as a relief to him. He had been allowing him and that Senju boy to be prepared from the upcoming event so that he could enjoy a battle between the two in desperation to survive. He had planned for whomever the victor was to have a short interval of relief before allowing Kikumi to practice her Kuronuma techniques and see if the priests had truly uncovered the secrets of their craft.
"Because she will come searching for me and in that search, she will come to this island to ask for that boy's help," she revealed. "You will have her there. You must pit her into a corner that she cannot crawl out from and you must strip her of the artifacts. Madara will be doing everything in his power to stop her curse from reaching his brother and if you can ensure keeping Mio from him, he will be your most faithful ally."
"And you have seen this? You do not see a different outcome?"
"Only if you leave Madara in that prison to rot will the outcome change."
"And her artifacts will be mine?"
"Not until you make her yours," she said calmly, "but first, you must release Madara and return into his good graces if you do not wish to be betrayed."
"When? Tell me when to expect this girl," he demanded, thrilled by the power she would bring to him.
Ayuka closed her eyes as she inhaled deeply after placing a hand on the scroll at her back and begun to speak, "She will come a woman on the eve of her eighteenth year and—"
Enki watched her eyes snap open, a shock molding her expression as she took several breaths. "What is it? What have you remembered?"
"She will come a Shugosha," she breathed. "She will come bearing all artifacts with the exception of three."
"What three?" he demanded.
"The Nature, Fate, and Universe Sphere," she told him.
He tsked. "The Universe Sphere is of the core, is it not? Who will hold it?"
"I will investigate it."
"And the Nature Sphere?"
"There is no need for you to worry of it. Its guardian is in our midst and will be on our side if you free him."
"The boy again?"
"He is important," Ayuka replied. "If Shinya chose him to guard the Nature Sphere, there is no doubt. So open your eyes, heika-sama, that boy is the solution and whatever qualms you may have about him should be buried and forgotten."
"I will release him," he decided. "If he will bring me the Shugosha girl as you claim, I will release him."
Ayuka smiled victoriously and inclined her head in approval before excusing herself. She paused at the entrance. "You might want to release the Mokuton user too."
"For what reason?" he complained.
"He is needed on the other side. You cannot have him. He belongs to the world."
"What have you seen of that brat?"
"The truth. You cannot move what is not meant to be moved," she answered. "He is where he is supposed to be and your duty is to allow him to go towards his next destination."
- : - : -
Hashirama thought up elaborate plans and executed them, facing continuous failures, while Madara challenged his impatience as he waited for the audience promised to him. He observed the people that sauntered in and out of the prison; every person he had seen the previous day would be there the following day, which meant only a certain circle of the Temple's inhabitants frequented the place. He noticed a pattern to their use in prisoners, making specific selections—choosing healthier soldiers in place of those on the brink of death. The dying spent hours filling the room with a chorus of their ailing until one by one they submitted to their pain and Madara would hear a voice fade into a whisper and finally, into nothingness.
Madara had been imprisoned for seventeen days before Enki sauntered to him with a crooked nose and a bandage set across it. His face was bruised and swelling. The sight of him was a pleasant change from the arrogant man he had learned to despise. Not too far behind, he spotted his High Priest, the Mikami clan leader, Takuei, Katsura, and the surprising face of Motou Ayuka.
He was released from within and guided out of that hellish prison by Ayuka and Katsura. As he moved forward in silence, he heard Enki offering Hashirama a proposition that seemed to have something to do with meeting certain demands with his clan until he moved out of earshot.
"I hope you faced no strife while in your confinement," Ayuka told him once they were on the mountain trail. The Northern Castle was in view when she forced him to a stop. "Enki committed a mistake in humiliating you in this form."
Madara folded his arms over his chest, glancing at Katsura, who looked none too pleased.
"I have taken care of sending word to the Ito clan and your grandmother," Ayuka continued. "Of course, none truthful, but it is best for them to believe you are at least making some progress than none at all."
"What word was sent?" asked Madara.
"That you clashed with Senju Hashirama in a battle that ended in a draw," Katsura explained stiffly.
"Of course, my report was a lot more detailed than that," said Ayuka pleasantly. "I said you threatened to decapitate the king if you lost."
Decapitating Enki did not sound like a terrible idea, especially one to consider for the near future.
"I am amused," Madara remarked, walking past Ayuka.
Katsura trailed behind him. "The Ito clan is requesting the Motou clan's aid in war."
"War?"
"The continent is in chaos," said Ayuka, joining them. "Who would have thought that an agreement between acquaintances could start a war of this caliber? I doubt you would consider that."
She looked directly at him, as if it needed to be any more obvious that she was talking about his and Mio's agreement.
Katsura spared her a cutting glare, but continued to explain the situation with the Ito clan and hinted at his grandmother's impatience at his lack of progress. If his grandmother was irritated, Madara imagined Ito Tomoji was livid since he had expected quick results.
"How is my brother?"
"Well."
"Good," he ordered. "Have someone go on ahead to the Waterfall Country, we will be following soon."
Katsura stared at him oddly.
"Go," Madara said sternly. "Now."
Katsura rushed on ahead to make the order.
"I do hope you don't plan to leave immediately," said Ayuka. "There is much more left for you to do here before you go. Although, the Senju might not stay here long. Heita was wounded badly in the last battle and the Sone clan no longer have a leader. Enki has won his war now that he has the scroll."
"I prefer to keep my head on my shoulders," Madara replied. "I will be leaving with my clan, you can keep the Ito."
"You must understand Enki made a foolish mistake," the priestess stressed.
"Enki should feel fortunate I am not attempting against his life," Madara told her.
"You have a duty here; I made that clear to you."
"The only thing you made clear was that Mio was a danger to my brother and my brother is fighting in a war," he retorted. "If I should be anywhere, it should be there."
"You have more to learn here, Uchiha Madara." Ayuka started to walk ahead of him. "I will ensure you are granted leave during my next venture. You will see her then."
"See who?"
"Your spy. Uchiha Konoe will be attempting against her life with several Mikazuki shinobi, none of them among Gouki's inner circle, so you should not worry about your Sharingan failing you."
"You give Mio too much importance," he said, bored of the priestess's droning voice.
"Have you not heard?" she asked, smiling coyly. "Mio is everything."
xl: I am utterly ashamed for this late update. For those unaware of the issue that led to this tardiness, well, my laptop crashed in November when the chapter was near finished and I lost all my work. My laptop was returned late November and I used December to basically gather my thoughts. At that time, I honestly, did not believe I lost too much when it came to this story. I only belatedly realized as I was editing this chapter (which also took forever because of rewrites) that I lost several important notes.
With that said, I am honestly trying not to freak out over any of my lost notes and keep a positive outlook. I lost the original outline for the story (including several twists and inner details), but I've written another and everything is heading in the same direction with obvious changes. So, I apologize ahead of time, but there will be a delay in updates. Especially in chapters like this one that tie into past chapters.
On the bright side, I am almost done with the next chapter. Give me a day or two to finish and edit it. You will see it soon and it is what set things in motion in Mio's chapters (17 - 22).
This chapter covers up until the 18th chapter. The next Madara chapter will feature Madara and Izuna reunited in the Sun Country and the last haul before returning to Mio's side.
I'll make a journal discussion post in a day or two to really refresh everyone's memory.
I want to tell everyone that reviewed that I am eternally grateful that you took the time to write something! The same thing goes for the sudden influx of favorites and follows, I am not worthy, but thank you for reading! I hope you will continue reading!
I promise it won't take this long again! (I'm just getting into the hang of things again, it sucks that school is starting up soon, though. Best of luck to everyone that has already started!)
Thank you for reading!