"It's over, Yushiro. It's been over for a while now!" Hisa paced back and forth, her fingers unable to keep away from brushing her hair back in anxiety. "I'm sorry. I did a horrible thing, but it's over now." Her throat itched and she wished to cry, but didn't want to make it look like she was trying to manipulate him with her tears.

"You know you and the girls are the most important to me, right?" She sat back down, and took his hand in both hers. "What I did… It didn't mean anything. Just… Just sex. I—"

"Hisa…" Slowly, Yushiro released his hand from her grip, then put the paper from his lap back on the table. "I never asked any of that, did I?" His, commonly gentle, gaze darkened as he looked into her eyes. "Now, better tell me his name, and I will try my best to tolerate you, for the sake of our children. Or…" She gulped, not daring to interrupt him. "I will use genjutsu to find out, and then send you back to your parents. You know that means you could see the girls only sometimes, with my permission?"

"You wouldn't really—" Her voice broke despite her best efforts, and she went silent.

"Oh, I would." Placing his fingers under her chin, gently, he made her face him. "I wish I was crueler than I am, but… You are the mother of my children. Hurting you would mean hurting them."

His eyes intently glazed across her face, with nothing but disappointment in them. Looking back at him, Hisa found she never felt so deeply ashamed, but had to have at least enough resolve to not look away. Still, almost unbeknownst to her, a few tears left her eyes, letting her know she was crying only when they tickled her cheek.

Yushiro sighed tiredly.

"To think how much I trusted you, how proud I felt that you were mine…" Dismissively, he stopped holding her chin. "Now—"

"You know I love you, right?" She choked out, not even sure why she decided to say that at this very moment. She never told him she loved him, at least not so forwardly, yet, now she picked the worst possible time to do it.

If Yushiro's eyes were filled with disappointment before, it was now replaced with a surprised sort of anger.

"Why, for gods' sake, would you fuck someone behind my back, then?! What have I failed to give you?" He stood up abruptly, taking her place as the one who paced around anxiously. "I was always good to you, as good as I could be! How can you possibly love someone and then choose to humiliate them like this, Hisa?! Something doesn't add up here!" He gestured in rage, accusingly pointing at her.

Hisa covered her mouth as a sob escaped her chest. Yushiro never used brash language; he even rarely raised his voice. The fact she made him so angry that he had to shout at her made her wish to fall apart right then and there.

"We're estranged, Yushiro! We've had Hana three years ago! Since then you've rejected my every advance." She stood up to stand opposite of him. "I feel like I'm a mother and a housewife to you – a tool! Nothing more! I just…" She paused to get her breathing in order. "I just wanted to be loved, as a woman; as a person. I'm sorry…" She let her arms limply fall to her sides.

For a couple of minutes, he remained silent, looking at the floor. When he spoke up, his collected, gentle deep voice had replaced the angry shouts from before.

"Unlike you, I keep my promises. What have I told you when we were first married and you wouldn't stop crying about it?"

"But things have changed—"

"I guaranteed that I wouldn't lay a hand on you except for the purpose of conceiving. And I kept that, all the while…" He slowly approached her, making her take a step back, but the sofa was right behind so she couldn't go far. "Never, ever, going to another woman. Why? Because you're my wife, and I swore an oath to you."

"I made a mistake, alright? Forgive me." Warily, she placed her shaky hand on Yushiro's cheek. He frowned but did nothing to stop her. "I came to love you, precisely for how good and patient you are… I came to want you, so much…" She whispered.

"I can't just forgive you, Hisa. I need his name."

"I'll tell you, just later, alright? I will."

Easily, afraid to ruin the newly found peace in her husband's expression, Hisa came even closer. Her hand traveled from its spot against his bearded cheek to the back of his head, her fingers burying themselves in his black hair. She observed his parted lips, then his lidded eyes, waiting for any trace of rejection, but was pleased to note she found none.

And right when she was about to kiss him, he kissed her. He kissed her, like never before. It was impatient, primal and angry. He bit and licked her lips, all the while she returned with the same eagerness. Yushiro's hands roamed her body, groped and touched her without control, and she couldn't hold in a gasp at this new side of him she'd never seen.

Turning her around forcefully, he had her kneel on the sofa, bending her over the recliner. He kissed her neck, breathing close to her ear, trying to lift her skirt, while her own hand found its way to his crotch, squeezing and getting him ready for what's to come.

And then he took her, wild and passionate like she never knew he could be.

…

Madara's day had been fairly good. He stayed over at the building site for a couple of days, overseeing the progress, and was now finally home. By his estimation, in about three months, small groups from both clans could start moving in. Hashirama worked very hard, and was his usual agreeable self, which made things that much easier on everyone.

He even inquired about Sumi, and learned she was doing very well. He was glad to hear it, and couldn't wait to tell Mego. Any chance to say or do something that would make her smile, he couldn't bring himself to miss.

"Father." He greeted, entering the living room. Tajima sat in his chair, resting.

"Madara." He nodded, speaking in his usual patient, slow pace. "Welcome back. You seem pleased."

"Yes, very much so." Madara sat down opposite his father. He shared a few details he thought Tajima would find meaningful or interesting about his time in the village. "How are you doing? Where's Mego?"

Tajima cleared his throat, not bothering to conceal his discomfort. "She's locked herself in her bedroom, as usual. Her mother stopped by to cause a scene a few days ago." The man appeared tired and irritated.

"What scene? Why?" Madara set down the leather bag he carried supplies in, and leaned back to hear what went on in his household.

Worry crept into him. Couldn't just one day be good in its entirety? Something always had to get complicated.

"She wants to arrange a new marriage for Mego."

"Already?" He raised an eyebrow, finding it difficult to understand why Amako would force her daughter into a new marriage when she had only just been through that horrible thing. "She's just—"

"I know. I told her to take that to you. So," Tajima shrugged, "You decide what to do with her."

Watching his father for a few moments, Madara wanted to protest, yet ultimately decided to say nothing. It would only start an argument, and that's the last thing he wanted; although, he felt himself growing angrier with every passing second. Decide what to do with her. Was she a goat, a thing, a burden to pass onto someone else? Was he really the only one who cherished her as the mother of his brother's child? Dead or alive, didn't matter; Izuna loved her, and so he loved her. Hell, he loved her despite Izuna.

Instead of saying anything, however, he inhaled a calming breath, and got up.

"I'll go freshen up."

"Speak to Amako and Iekara after. I don't want any more of this drama in my house."

"Alright, father." Already on his way, he stopped once his father spoke again.

"And I especially don't want anyone coming here and slandering my son. You handle it as you see fit, but I would make sure the old woman learns her place." Seeing how Madara remained quiet, Tajima went on. "I see you know exactly what people say about you. I have decided to trust you would never do such a thing, I hope I'm right."

"You are, father. Thank you."

….

Fresh out of the bath, in light, clean clothes, Madara felt unburdened, despite the thick, unpleasant atmosphere that welcomed him when he entered Mego's maiden house. A servant led him to their living quarters, and he entered to find Mego's mother alone, sipping tea, with several different pastries served on the table before her. She took a small piece of cake, nodding in his direction and motioning for him to sit down.

He bowed lightly, and accepted her offer, choosing a spot from which he could clearly face her. The silence grew denser as seconds went by, and soon enough, he decided to get to the point.

"So, my lady… I heard you've caused quite the commotion while I was gone." He began, offering a tiny, cold smile. Amako took her time to finish her cake before answering. Passive-aggressive much, Madara thought, slightly amused.

"Don't get me started on what I have heard, Madara. I did what I did because I want to help my child."

Madara nodded understandingly. He knew that, and he believed she harbored best intentions; still, she was approaching the problem with the worst attitude possible; worst for that very child she went on about.

"I know that, lady Amako. Mego should remarry if there is a man good for her. But it's simply too soon. She is still mourning."

He noticed the suspicion in the woman's eyes as she intently watched him. He doubted she even meant to hide it.

"You wouldn't mind her marrying another man, then? Is that what you're saying?"

"As long as she accepts and the man is good enough for her—" Madara let his words die down when the woman snickered. She snickered; at him. He sighed, wanting to keep his cool. Lashing out at her here would bring them nothing good. It truly pissed him off when people thought their age gave them the right to act dismissive towards just about anyone. "I said something funny?"

"Any good man would steer clear of my daughter, thanks to you and your liberal behavior. There is a man who would marry her, and at this point, that's all we may expect." Amako straightened herself in her seat. She looked at him with an almost sad expression, although demand was written all over her demeanor. "Unless…"

"Unless?" He urged.

"This doesn't make me happy, but… Unless, you were to marry her." She made sure he could see how displeased she was with her own suggestion. "You have already ruined her reputation, so I'd say you owe her at least that."

Madara found himself sitting in silence for longer than intended. Not only was he lacking words, but he nearly felt short of breath, feeling as pressure built up in his chest. He sat up in his seat, unable to even hide his disbelief at the proposal. His thoughts were so unorganized for that brief time, that he felt headache slowly take over his senses. There was the repulsing thought of taking his late brother's woman for himself, yet… Mego was so much more to him than just Izuna's widow. She was her own person, a person he cherished and respected, even, and that couldn't be said for many individuals.

He had had some strange moments where he thought of her in ways he shouldn't have, but they would come and go, and he never actually took them to heart. He never, not once, thought of acting on them. But now, she could, in fact, be his. Mego could be his wife…

He could hear his heart beat in his ears. No, he couldn't.

"Why…" He spoke, saying the only coherent thing he could come up with. "Why are you so set on marrying her again? She's safe with us, and she never expressed any desire to leave."

"Why? So she wouldn't have to live like a widow anymore! Why else?" Amako gestured, like his question was the stupidest thing she ever heard. It could very well be, he realized. "I want her to be free, and happy, and beautiful like she had always been! Would you have her locked indoors for the rest of her life?"

He had to lower his gaze, realizing he had, in fact, hoped she would stay with them, simply as his sister in law. He had completely failed to consider what pitiful life she would have to lead. She'd be doomed to spend her days alone, banned from doing anything useful, allowed outside only with him there. Yet, could he really give her to someone else; much less anyone who wasn't as good as Izuna or better?

No, no one else can have her.

As if she could read minds, Amako stood up and slowly walked over to his side. He felt the soft grip of her hand on his shoulder.

"I thought about this." She whispered. "I know for sure you would be good to her, which… I really can't tell for any other man I might give her to. You two are already—"

"We're not like that, lady Amako." He looked up at her. "I never touched Mego."

"It doesn't matter either way, even if I trusted you. The rest of the clan doesn't." She sighed, and stepped away from him. "The two of you claim to love each other. Well, here's your chance to prove it. Take some time to think about this."

As she neared the door, Madara stood up from his chair. For a moment, it felt as if his lips would stay closed despite his desire to speak. His felt the familiar pressure inside of him, and once again, it became hard to breathe.

"There's no need." He cursed internally at the way his voice shook. "I'll do it."

….

"So…" Hisa felt the vibration of her husband's chest when he spoke, while she was resting her head on it. "His name?" Their breathing was still uneven and quick, while they lied together, wrapped in sheets.

She moved away, lifting herself on her elbows and facing him.

"Promise me you won't do anything reckless when I tell you."

"Depends what you mean by 'reckless'." Yushiro shrugged, playing with a stray lock of her hair.

Hisa sat up, wrapping her sheet closer around her body to cover herself.

"You know what I mean – that you won't start a fight, or something."

"Just tell me his name." He demanded again, and she could very well sense she had pushed it far enough. She would have to tell him. Now.

"It's…" She sighed, a new wave of shame overwhelming her. She had nearly forgotten about the whole ordeal for the day while they made love. "Madara." She finished, carefully searching for some kind of reaction on Yushiro's face. There was nothing too notable. A flash of anger, perhaps, which disappeared as swiftly as it came.

"How long did it go on for?"

"For about seven months…"

"That's quite a long mistake, Hisa." He observed her for a few seconds, and she almost felt the need to fidget under the pressure. Her body then calmed down, when Yushiro's warm palm gently cupped her face. "I'll bring myself to forgive you, eventually."

She wrapped her fingers around his wrist affectionately.

"Thank you."

Yushiro nodded, still appearing to be somewhat thoughtful.

"I'll challenge him tomorrow." He added, as if by the way, then proceeded to get up from bed and start dressing.

"What?" Hisa gasped breathily. "No. No! You can't do that, Yushiro. That's madness!"

"I have pride, Hisa. If someone beds my wife, he has to endure consequences."

She hurried out of bed and slid her own dress on as fast as she could, following after Yushiro when he exited the room, and kept going despite her attempts to stop him.

"This isn't just someone! It's Madara! He's a complete beast in fight, Yushiro, you can't be serious. Senju Hashirama can't best him, much less—"

"And what should I do?!" She was rendered mute again, when he raised his voice. "Just let it go? You are my family, so I must find it in myself to forgive you. And Madara?" Her husband spat the name like it left him with a bitter taste just by speaking it. "He's nothing to me. And he will bear consequences."

"What if you die?!" Finally, she yelped, grabbing his arm to keep him from leaving, since he was making his way outside. Yushiro glared at her hand that held him, then back at her face.

"Then you can just continue to fuck him." He yanked his arm free, and left her alone. She sat on the nearest chair, leaning her aching head on her palms. How naïve she was to think it would all resolve itself so soon.