They began their descent towards the compound, sunlight fading as they dropped below the canopy of the seven-hundred-meter-tall trees into an area of majestic cliffs crowned with vegetation. Adjusting slightly, they glided to a lake shore. Towering majestically over the shore and the lakes rose the compound, which consisted of clusters of giant, tiered trees.
Madara gazed at the trees and cliffs in wonder. This place rendered others he had visited bland by comparison. The scene at the exotic gate alone was impressive, with people coming and going, and groups of leaders and their units haggling with each other all hailing from a dozen different clans. Over sized logs and slabs of fine-grained hardwoods were heaped about, the air was rich with the smell of moss and mist, and loud with the pounding of nearby lumber workers.
Captains supervised the loading and offloading, which was moved by teams of people or exquisitely crafted sleds. All of the activity was shaded and dwarfed by trees that seemed to reach to the very edge of the clouds.
Madara had to catch his breath. The gargantuan size of everything made him feel like an insect.
Lush grasses sprinkled with flowers of all colors and shapes graced the hilly meadows. Beyond its borders, shining waterfalls spilled into the lakes, and from this spot, many other lakes could be seen about the distant hills, all the way to the horizon. Pollen floated by on the warm breeze, and puffy clouds drifted across the shining blue sky above.
It was a place full of life and full of love, full of warmth and full of softness.
To Madara, it was a place reflective of Mikito.
Insects buzzed about in the air, too busy with the flowers to have any time to bother either Mikito or Madara. Mikito sat on the grass, absently picking flowers, bringing them up to inhale their scents. Every so often, she glanced over at Madara, almost afraid to let him notice. She loved the way he was reacting to this place, to all of their land, his simple joys forcing her to see things as she had when she was younger, before the real world had pushed her to a place of responsibility.
It surprised her that Madara would be so carefree and joyful.
"Well?" Madara prompted, forcing Mikito to consider again the question he had just asked her.
"You're so big headed." She said dismissively, purposely exaggerating her frustration.
"You just don't want to tell me once again."
Mikito gave a helpless little laugh. "Are you going to use one of your Sharingan genjutsu on me?"
"They only work on the weak." Madara explained. "You are anything but weak."
"You really don't like shinobi anymore?" Mikito asked, a bit of remorse creeping in despite the warm winds and the idyllic setting.
"I like two or three." Madara replied. "I'm not really sure about one of them."
His smile was perfectly disarming and Mikito had to work hard to keep any semblance of a frown against it.
"I don't think the shinobi system works." Madara finished, matter-of-factly.
"Is that so?" She replied sarcastically. "Well, how would you have it work?"
Madara stood up, suddenly intense. "We need a system where every single person sits down and discusses the problem, agree what's in the best interests of everyone and everything, and then do it." He said, as if it was perfectly simple and logical.
"Which is exactly the opposite of what we do now." Mikito unhesitatingly replied.
Madara looked at her doubtfully.
"The trouble is that people don't always agree. Shinobi hardly ever do." She reasoned.
"Then they should be made to."
That statement caught Mikito a bit off guard.
"By who?" she asked. "Who or what is going to make shinobi listen?"
"I don't know." he answered, waving his hands again in obvious frustration. "Someone."
"You?"
"Not me."
"But someone?"
Madara shrugged.
"That sounds an awful lot like a monarchy or matriarchy." Mikito said, winning the debate.
She watched Madara as a mischievous little grin began to spread across his face. "Well...If it works..."
Mikito tried to hide her shock. What was he talking about? How could he believe that? She stared at him, and he returned the severe look-but he couldn't hold it, and smiled.
"You're messing with me again!"
Madara smiled, backing away and falling to sit on the soft grass, hands out before him. "I'd be much too frightened to tease you."
"You're so big headed!" She reached over, picked up a piece of fruit, and threw it at him, and when he caught it, she threw another, and then another.
"You're always so serious." Madara scolded, and he began juggling the fruit.
"I'm so serious?" Her incredulity was sincere, even if she agreed with the assessment to a great extent.
For all her life, she had watched people like Yuko, Izuna, Ahiko, Chiasa, and so many others go off and follow their hearts, while she had followed the path of duty. She had known great triumphs and great joys, to be sure, but all of it had been wrapped up in the extravagant outfits of kimono and yukata, and now in the endless responsibilities of a leader of the amalgamation. Maybe she just wanted to take off all those trappings, all those clothes, and dive into the sparkling water, for no better reason than to feel its cool comfort, for no better reason than to laugh.
She grabbed up another piece of fruit and threw it at Madara, and he caught it and seamlessly put it up with the others. Then another, and another, until too many went his way and he lost control, then tried futilely to duck away from the dropping fruit. Mikito had to cover her mouth, she was laughing so hard. Caught up in the whirlwind of the moment.
Mikito sat back and considered this moment, this day, and her companion. She couldn't dismiss the pangs of guilt that she was out here playing without purpose, while others worked hard to carry on the fight against the Water damiyo, or while Ahiko scoured through everything to deduce their recent metamorphosis.
She should be out there, somewhere, doing something...
"You look tired." Mikito said to Madara. Still standing, Madara opened his eyes and came out of his meditative trance. He took a moment to register the words, and then gave a little shrug, not disagreeing.
"I don't sleep well anymore."
That was hardly news to Mikito. "Because of your mother?"
"I don't know why I keep dreaming about her now." Madara answered, frustration coming through in his voice.
"Your love for her was, and remains, deep." Mikito said.
"But these are more than..." Madara started to say, but he stopped and sighed and shook his head. "Are they dreams, or are they visions? Are they images of what has been? Do they tell something that is yet to be?"
"They're just dreams." Mikito said, her smile gentle. "Not every dream is a premonition or a vision. Some dreams are just dreams. Even we have dreams. Shinobi have dreams and nightmares. You can't forget that."
Madara didn't seem very satisfied with that.
He just shook his head again.
"Dreams pass in time." Mikito told him.
"I'd rather dream of you." Madara replied with a sly smile. "Just being around you makes me go into a trance."
"You don't enjoy this very much." Mikito remarked.
"There is nowhere else I'd rather be." Madara replied, and it was Mikito's turn to give an embarrassed little laugh.
"But this...Inertia..." She reasoned.
Madara nodded as he caught on. "We should be more aggressive in our searches pertaining to the Water damiyo. To sit back and wait is to invite disaster."
"The others don't agree."
"You're bound by the letter of the orders." Madara explained. "You won't take a chance on doing anything that isn't explicitly asked of you by the Council."
Mikito tilted her head and considered Madara more carefully. Was not discipline a primary lesson they were taught? Were they not bound, strictly so, within the structure of the Amalgamation and their Code?
"It depends." Mikito said.
"On?"
"I understand the need for independent thinking and initiative...Otherwise, we wouldn't be here like we are."
"You're an independent thinker?" Madara asked.
"I accept the duties I am given, but demand the leeway I need to see them to a proper conclusion."
"Demand?"
Mikito smiled and shrugged. "I ask nicely."
"And presume, when you can't get the answers you desire." Madara said with a knowing grin, though in his heart he was only half teasing.
"I do the best I can with every problem I am given," was the strongest admission Mikito would offer.
"And so sitting here like we are is not your idea of fun."
"We could be doing better and more exciting things." Mikito said, and there was a double edge to his voice, one that intrigued Madara.
"Mikito..."
"If we focus on each other, we might find what we're looking for." Mikito explained, quickly putting the discussion back on a professional level. "Either way, we will be safer, and our duties will be made far easier."
Madara's mind whirled as he tried to sort out Mikito's thoughts, and her motivations. She was surprising him with every word, considering that she was a warrior, and yet, given the fire that he clearly saw burning behind her eyes, she was not surprising him. Madara saw trouble brewing there, in those simmering and too-passionate eyes, but even more than that, he saw excitement and the promise of triumph.
And, perhaps, the promise of finding out who he really was.
"It's not one enemy I'm worried about." Madara countered. "There are many ways to kill a shinobi."
"I know, but we also want to catch this menace." Mikito said, her tone determined, stubborn even.
"The Water damiyo made bait out of the mainland for the foreigners?" Madara asked incredulously, his eyes widening with shock and disbelief.
"Not completely." Mikito protested, but her sharp tone showed that she'd never agree with such a plan. "No harm will come to the mainland. I can sense everything going on there."
"It's too much of a risk..." Madara countered. "Besides, your sensory perception may not be that astute."
Mikito chose her words and her tone carefully, trying to sound not defensive. "And your sensory perception?"
Madara could not deny the look of intrigue that crossed his face. "Possibly."
Mikito smiled and nodded, and closed her eyes again, falling into the sensations of chakra, following them to the Ahiko, who was sleeping quietly. She wished that she could see her sister, could watch the quiet rise and fall of her belly, could hear her soft breathing. She had to settle for this, for feeling her life energy was always a place of warmth for her.