"I must agree...I no longer have the capacity for metempsychosis...In fact it's quite difficult to discover my purpose now that I've lost everything. However, I finally understand...Although he may not be me. I will bring the new "container" here...Even if it costs me my very life. This is how I show my thanks to Orochimaru-sama and my way of repaying my uselessness."
Kimimaro
Night fell. Exhausted from their battles and trek, Madara and Mikito were both sound asleep. Madara turned, groaning softly as his body melted.
Madara always tried to maintain his image. He wasn't exactly stoic, but he didn't reveal his emotions so easily. He was dignified and stout. But, being in his home with Mikito and his young ones allowed him the chance to not maintain his image. Here, he was a husband and father. He could let his walls down, if only in the sanctuary of his home.
It was enough, though. It was more than enough. He watched over his young ones. They weren't even close to two yet. Innocent and oblivious of the violent and terrible world they lived in. He never thought he'd have young ones to watch over, but it happened, and he would fulfill his duty as a father and husband. He sat at the table, sipping on tea while his two little girls and three little boys made a mess out of their food. The dogs and puppies they adored were just below them, munching on everything they threw down.
"Stop it, right now." Madara told them, trying to keep a straight face. "That food is for eating, not making mess. The dogs eat meat and special food."
"Mmm-mm." One of his sons responded, looking at him with a grin.
"Yes. Don't make a mess." Madara repeated, tone a little stern.
"Mmm-ahh-mm." One of his daughters retorted.
One of his sons laughed.
"It's not funny making mess." Madara said. "It is not funny at all."
One of his daughters threw her mashed up fruit and vegetables on the floor, her hands were covered in it. He felt himself sigh at the scene. Why did children have to be so complicated? He pointed at their plates, then at his mouth, and while they understood, clearly they didn't want to cooperate.
"Mikito!"
"Yes, yes!" Mikito came into the kitchen.
"They're making a mess." Madara told her.
"What am I supposed to do about that?"
"Tell them to knock it off. They listen to you better than me, and they don't pull your hair."
Madara watched her go about gently scolding their children. They fussed and cried, but only for a few seconds. He was amazed at how gentle and serene Mikito was with them, and he enjoyed watching her be a good mother. She got their messy daughter to eat her food instead of making a mess, and got their eldest son to finish his carrots, though he'd move his finger back and forth and shake his head at times.
He wanted to blame Izuna. Izuna never liked carrots. Even though Izuna wasn't their father, him and Izuna had similar traits, and shared blood, so some of Izuna's traits could have carried over.
Madara told himself that, since he didn't mind vegetables except for spinach.
"When did our daughter get so messy?" Madara asked, looking at Mikito.
"When I started mashing her food so it was softer. She didn't like eating food when it was too hard. Izuna's daughters didn't help, they like making mess and throw it at him when they get upset."
Something shifted, and Madara could feel himself slowly coming out of whatever this was. He couldn't fight against it, and didn't want to, but a part of him wanted to remain in this peaceful place. There was no feelings of fear or trepidation. No anxiety over battle. It was just serene, peaceful, and he felt at total peace at this very moment.
The sensation sped up as he stared at Mikito, taking in every detail. She wore a long pink dress that trailed to her ankles. A thick pink band was wrapped tight around her waist, and a raised collar kept her neck covered from view. Long, white evening gloves reached beyond her elbows. He was mesmerized by her, because he never thought Mikito would wear such a thing, ever.
She wasn't exactly a tomboy, but she didn't care for getting all dressed up either. She didn't like the layers she had to wear before she wore a kimono, and she didn't like how she had to walk in them. Short, careful, but fast steps. He always liked her wearing such things, but seeing her in this long dress, it made his heart race a bit faster.
She was beautiful.
"When did you start..."
The scenery changed to inky black, but the image of Mikito in that dress stayed fresh in his mind. Even as he drifted through the inky blackness, slowly going through tunnels of colors and shapes.
His eyes flicked open, and he took a breath.
A dream... He thought. It was a dream...
It was cool outside. It was as if the heat couldn't find its way to him. The shelter was sturdy. Heavy and thick stems supported it, leaves provided cover from the elements, and smaller branches and twigs were linked together, forming a barrier to keep any bugs out. Madara was wide awake, focusing on a ray of moonlight. He had ate his fill. Mikito helped him carry the fish back. They ate. Mikito fell asleep shortly after that. He insisted that she get some rest. It took a full two minutes for her to be completely out.
He kept watch over her and the area. He covered her exposed body with leaves he managed to gather when he had the energy to stand up. It wasn't much, when he thought about it, but it was better than nothing at all.
Creatures scampered across the landscape. Spiders and other arachnids sped across the ground, ducking into crevasses. The moonlight swept their path, clearing those creatures as effectively as one of his fire jutsu, and they didn't hang around to be caught off guard, even for a second.
They were on a slight rise, he looked down the river valley, the water roaring from the jagged wall of earth two hundred yards to his left. Despite nothing approaching him, he felt exposed, no doubt countless eyes were watching him.
He could see more of the landscape. The valley fell away into a deep canyon and ravine, in the distance mountains loomed like teeth gouging into the land. There were more valleys and ravines, like long scars across the landscape. Even the land wanted to consume itself, it seemed. He didn't get up from his position, though his curiosity was getting the better of him. It would be easy to go just a few feet away, and stare at the wilderness.
But, he would be seeing more. The future was uncertain, a vague place, but Madara was determined to march into it. He had to keep watch over Mikito, at this moment. She was sound asleep, completely vulnerable. It may not even be a canine creature that bites her throat, it could be those black parasites. He didn't want to guess, so he remained by her side doggedly.
Mikito hadn't moved since she laid down, since she fell asleep. She usually moved around a lot while sleeping, and as she dozed off, but at this moment she was completely still.
The moon's light was gleaming on her skin. Brown. It was almost the color chocolate. She was darker than Hashirama. Her dark brown hair fell against her milky skin wildly. It was messy, unkempt. She had tried to keep it orderly, but all of their conflicts had resulted in it looking like his own. Her spiky tufts were even more disheveled.
He reached out, and his breath left him. Her hair was so soft and abundant. He guessed she must have been growing it since she was six years old. He kept it in his hand for a few minutes, moving his fingers every now and again to feel its texture.
Madara shifted slightly, shrugging off the feeling that came.
His insides pulled, and he tried not to grab his stomach.
Not again… Madara thought, struggling not to hiss.
He let go of Mikito's hair, just so he didn't accidentally yank on it a little too hard in his moment of frustration. He didn't want to wake her. She needed the rest, and he knew it. Her body had been shaking when he was supporting her. Her body was slick with sweat, her breaths were mere gasps.
His insides pulled again, and a sharp, jabbing pain made its presence just above his groin.
He looked around, brows pulling together. He very well wouldn't relieve himself here. If it was peeing, it'd be a simple fix, but because it wasn't a simple piss...He had to move, a good bit away as well. Between the sounds and smells of taking a shit, he was certain Mikito would at least turn over on her side. But, every part of him was keeping him rooted.
He could see Mikito. He could feel her. She was in front of him. If he left, he'd be in the jungle, in the darkness, he'd be spotted and stalked, eventually. Mikito may get killed, ripped apart in her sleep, or worse. He wasn't a paranoid person, but he wasn't going to leave anything to chance.
Madara formed two clones from fire—giving them strict instruction to keep charge over Mikito. He moved away from his safe haven, and into the darkness. He could see everything in its full clarity—legs skittering across the jungle floor that had to be insect in nature. He paused, hearing something cry out. There was always background noise, and he was growing accustomed to it. Birds calling, monsters roaring, beasts growling, insects screeching, frogs croaking, the constant rustle and scamper, and shadows whistling.
This was louder.
Something was in pain.
He moved down a slope, slipping along loose leaves, skidding down the rest of the way like he was surfing. As he got to the base, he looked around, darting his focus to his side when he head the cry once more.
He could just barely discern the direction it was coming from. He pushed his way through heavy, wet leaves, feet sinking into the drenched ground, he mounted a small boulder surrounded by a marsh, and saw what was crying out in pain. Chunks of debris were set against the wild landscape, a wound. There were large, jagged claw marks from some creature, jagged lines scratched along every surface.
Trapped beneath the wreckage from the unseen confrontation was a giant water buffalo creature. It was pushed down into the marsh by the weight on its back, one of its long horns chipped from the destructive impact. The creature seemed weak, about to give in. Its struggles were slow.
It saw him and let out a call.
Madara felt...Sorrow. This creature was so huge it made him look like an insect in comparison, but it was calling out to him to assist it.
Even this creature, as giant and powerful as it was, couldn't get out of its predicament alone.
He stepped down to the edge of the swamp, water and mud, and grass knots tangling around his feet. If he went further he'd be up to his knees in it. Madara waded in, sinking into the soggy vegetation beneath the water, swinging her arms, and pushing through the mess as he approached the creature.
The buffalo knew he was coming to help. It stopped struggling, and looked at him from the side, its eyes rolled into its skull with fear and hopelessness. Madara put his hand on the creature's nose, trying to calm it.
"Easy." He said, tone soft.
Four blue hands gripped into the fallen debris, and began to push. It didn't shift. It didn't budge. Madara strained, chest heaving, eyes glowing. He shifted, gaining more leverage, teeth gritting from the effort of pushing. The debris stuck fast. His chakra guardian slammed its feet into the ground, leags taking root. He heaved, and strained, and then let out a defiant scream. The mountain of debris lifted up and away from the creature, he dug his feet down to compensate for the sudden movement.
It stood, and Madara took a few steps back, looking up. Its legs stuck down into the swamp like ancient boles, giant body obscuring everything, and it bashed the rest of the debris aside with its massive head. He could smell its musky odor, and he felt his heart stop when it looked at him. It could have crushed him with one step, one smash of its horns, but he knew the giant creature would not do that.
It was a shared moment, timeless and infinite. He understood the creature, and the creature, him. He forgot who he was, memories, and everything else.
Only him and this majestic, gentle creature existed.
The water buffalo snorted softly, eyes shining for a moment as it turned and walked away. Madara watched. He wanted to run after the creature, but he would never catch up. Each giant step took it further away, and within seconds it was lost to the wild landscape.
Madara tilted his head, looking at the debris ahead of him. He was satisfied with how much he had been able to move with his Susano'o. He moved through the tangled brush, finding a suitable spot to handle his business.
He growled, tracing movement.
There is a lot...Too many...
A shadow flashed across area. He caught the movement, again, a blur, but his eyes could make it out. There had been multiple moving at once. Four in total, that he had seen. He was completely vulnerable.
Here and now…
Thousands of shadows emerged. They had sharp teeth, and scaly skin. They were green and yellow, with burnt stripes. Raging yellow and red eyes shone brightly in their bloodshot cornea. Saliva came from their maws, razor teeth shining in the darkness. The smallest was two feet. The largest was just short of eight feet feet.
They rose up, standing on two legs growling, faces contorting. Their eyes glowed, and they opened their mouths, letting out...He wasn't sure what to call it, but they were definitely communicating. They exuded murderous intent, their thirst for blood was thick on his skin like his sweat. While they were smaller than a lot of the beasts and monsters he encountered, they weren't small by any means. They were heavily muscled, even the ones that stood at four feet. He also couldn't count how many were around him, but he was surrounded—from all sides.
This was bad...Perhaps they were all about to go after that buffalo he saved, but he thought about it, and shook his head. The buffalo had dwarfed all of these little shits, to the point it'd just stomp on the whole pack. But, that didn't make these pack hunters any less formidable or fearsome—they were all intelligent and could coordinate. There was a chance they would have killed that buffalo.
They lunged.
Madara was on the other side of the terrain, sliding, body still going through its transition. It took a second for him to shift, but his sword flashed. He got off two strokes—diagonal, and horizontal. He barely managed to dodge, he had been expecting one to attack, but the whole pack attacked at once—like a single being.
He swayed through the madness, dancing away from claws and teeth. Madara made it look simplistic, he stepped, and he pivoted, and his sword arced as fluid as it did swiftly. Despite being pack hunters there was an alpha male in the group, if there were thousands surrounding him, that meant that the alpha could be keeping its distance.
He flicked his bloodied sword, standing his ground. He slowly shifted down, crouching low. His blade was pointed for the creatures' throats. They were all pack hunters, but he stood toe to toe with them, and they knew while they could work together, they would have to take him om separately eventually.
They lunged. Sharp claws and teeth ripped through the earth, leaving wide trenches. Soggy vegetation and murky water was splashed up, showering the entire surrounding area. Every instinct in his body told him to run.
His training as a shinobi.
As an Uchiha shinobi.
His own instincts...
It all told him to run.
Evade.
Retreat.
It was futile though, he couldn't retreat.
The pack closed him off—to retreat meant death.
Fear.
Shinobi trained to suppress all emotions, and that included fear. But, fear was one of the emotions that were difficult to suppress, like murderous intent, or hatred.
Anyone who was a warrior, went through this training.
No matter who dies, the clan must survive—that is what he was taught.
But—right here and now.
There was no clan.
Here and now, he was only himself.
Naked, cold.
He was Madara Uchiha, and now, more than ever he had to hold his ground.
He was worried, more than he would care to admit. He had been away from Mikito for a while, he was certain his clones could handle any trouble, but he couldn't be too certain. He couldn't let confidence cloud his judgment.
Their movements were erratic, the pack didn't stand off out of respect like the ones during the day did, this pack attacked more relentlessly, using the death of their own to press him into a corner. They started to swarm him, coming from every direction besides underground. He couldn't quite track their movements, but he could predict and anticipate them. The Sharingan and Mangkyo Sharingan didn't see into the future, it gave one the ability to adapt and strategize. It allowed one to see angles and attacks from the subtlest shift of the body.
Their footsteps, broken, and twisted, were switching at impossible angles. It was like they were triple jointed, or could dislocate certain bones.
A maw of teeth made him snarl. He shifted, letting the monster fly to his side. His blade skewered into the beast's torso, piercing through the back of its right side. It growled, croaking as blood erupted from the wound. More lunged the second his blade pierced—the opening was slight. More flashed into movement. They moved opposite, but in tandem with the others. Left, right, up, down, and all around. They were moving in a frenzy.
The ground shook with each step, leaves thrown about, and Madara could almost count how many steps they would take until they reached him. The howls and snarls would have driven anyone to fear. The predators would have gave chase, enjoying the game. Enjoying the struggle. Once the person fell they'd be all over him or her, ripping flesh, crushing bone, and tearing tendons.
He noticed some of the beasts and monsters in these lands didn't kill out of necessity for food—they killed just to do it. They killed because they wanted to spill blood. Taste it.
It didn't drive him into the realm of fear.
He was amazed with how swiftly these pack hunters attacked. His blade arced, and he moved as violently through the air as his weapon. He felt resistance, he felt the tear, he felt the gushing of the wounds, he could see the beasts, stunned and in agony. But, more danced and lunged around him. They dodged his arcing blade with a swift grace that he didn't believe possible. He wanted to think that they were doing it by sensing his body heat, or something along those lines.
Madara shifted back, shifted his blade, and jumped…
Death.
His blade ripped through those that he made contact with, utterly bisecting them. Their bodies were as solid as stone, and his blade plunged deep into their muscle, severing the bones beneath. He slashed and hacked his way through, blood, leaves, and tree bark hit his body.
They were tiring him out.
Chasing him.
Cornering him.
They were trying to make him weary.
This was a battle of attrition, he realized. He would cut swaths through this pack, but for every thousand he whacked through, thousands came to replace them. It was unending. Relentless. They wouldn't stop until they stripped him down to the bone and began to crack his bones open to eat the marrow. He pushed back, not going to play their game. But, going on the offense was falling into their trap, and so was falling into defense.
Between the two—Madara preferred offense. His arms burned, his shoulders ached, his wrists and elbows felt like they were going to snap. Madara screamed, arcing his blade all around, and it was like bolts of lightning struck at the moment in time. Thunder rattled the earth, bodies fell to the soggy undergrowth, their thuds louder than shock waves, and he extended his arms fully.
He felt like his gums were bleeding.
Every part of him was burning, but he could hear nothing.
He took a slow breath when the fight finally stopped. The agile creatures scampered away, leaving their dead for the scavengers to pick at. He didn't loosen his guard, even when they were miles away, and the waft of blood and guts dredged into his nose.
Without a second thought he raced to where he had been before chaos consumed him. He slid across the ground, nearly flipping onto his face as he came upon his clones. There were no signs of conflict, that he could see, and nothing had changed from when he left. He couldn't guess how long he had been gone, and his clones gave no indication.
Even as they dispersed into fire.
Madara cleaned his blade the best he could, and himself, before entering the shelter once more. For a fleeting second he thought he would have been able to just go out and relieve himself without something happening, but even the most basic of functions in this place meant treading the tightrope known as death.
He sighed softly, setting his sword aside, and glanced at the wound on his side. It was shallow, but it was bleeding a good bit. Just on his ribs—a few more inches and he would have been shredded partly, his soft lung tissue left to splatter somewhere. His hand glowed green for a moment, and the wound closed partly. Madara was satisfied with how it healed.
It would close up on its own by morning, and would leave a nice scar. It would be another scar to the collection on his body.
His focus turned onto Mikito' still form. She was still asleep, not moving from the position she had been in before. Madara was thankful she hadn't been aware of the fight he had been in, or the fact he had left. She would have followed after him without any hesitation, even if she could barely walk.
Tiredness stretched through his body, and it settled itself behind his eyes. It weighed heavy, like lead blocks. Madara tried to fight it, but he knew sleep would take him soon enough. He formed more clones, just before his eyes fluttered shut for the briefest of seconds.
He battled against the sensation, but eventually, his eyes closed.
Madara awoke early in the day, the sun was stretching through the giant leaves above, beaming onto the forest floor where he was. It couldn't quite scorch the ground, like it wanted to, and he wondered if that's why the rays seemed to get more intense as time went on. They were angry that they couldn't reach him and burn him alive.
Mikito was seated beside him, sipping on water. Her hair was neater than it had been when she went to sleep. It was only natural she'd go and wash it, using her fingers to get out any knots that may have tangled themselves in. The thought made him grimace—he wasn't even trying to get the knots out of his hair. He was going to have to cut it eventually.
It was spikier and messier than it had been before, and it was covering both of his eyes making seeing quite the task.
He turned to Mikito, just staring at her.
"Morning." She offered, a little sheepish under his gaze.
"You sleep well?"
"Very."
Madara nodded, taking the canteen when she offered it to him, and took a drink. He was happy to hear that. Mikito hadn't moved or made a sound other than breathing, but one could never be too sure. She could have been wracked by nightmares.
He could use his Sharingan, to observe that, but he never...Thought about doing it. It would be crossing a line, and the freedom that they both enjoyed would certainly be dissipated by his own self indulgence. He would be stepping over a line diving into her thoughts or memories with his Sharingan, and he had no doubt she'd beat him half to death.
"Thank you for watching over me. I know I chose a spot where we wouldn't be confronted by anything, unless we strayed too far, but I am still thankful." Mikito said.
Madara smiled, tilting his head.
Mikito looked awfully shy, at this moment.
"You don't have to thank me. That is my duty."
A faint ray of scarlet flashed across Mikito's face for less than a second. She played with her fingers for a few seconds, before setting her hands on her thighs, and looking at him with as much modesty as she could muster.
It was a little foolish of her, but when Madara said those things...It made her heart flutter. She wasn't a hopeless romantic by any stretch, but she was still a woman. When her husband professed it was his duty to watch over her, she couldn't help but blush.
All the more, it was coming from Madara.
"I like your hair."
Madara raked a hand through it, groaning when he hit a knot.
Mikito winced, hearing the collision. As soft as Madara's hair was, it was thick and spiky. He usually didn't do anything with it, and so it got to look like it did. He would only run his hand through it, both hands if he was pressed for time. But, now, he was starting to look like a peacock, if she had to say so herself.
She wouldn't be able to do anything to get rid of those knots.
"Are you going to cut it?" Mikito asked.
Madara frowned. "I want to, but..."
"But?"
"I really don't feel like it." He gripped some, eyeing it carefully. "I lose some every time I fight. It'll be short in due time."
Mikito smiled, keeping her laugh down. It was just like Madara to equate a haircut with battle. Perhaps that's why his office could get messy, at times. He approached paperwork like he was in battle, but that would leave a stack or two tipped over.
She knew how he was about his hair. When she first met him he wouldn't even let her touch a spike, scowling at her, and not saying a word. Looking back on it, the whole thing was amusing. He had always been scowling at her, and she was doing everything she could to mess with him,
"What are you thinking about?"
"You." Mikito said simply.
Madara raked a hand through his hair, but it was clear what his intent was. "Oh."
Mikito eyed him. "I can cut it for you, if you'd like?"
Madara groused. Annoying as his hair was starting to be, he really didn't want to part with it. He had been growing it out since he was around twelve years old, maybe eleven. Even if it would grow back, it felt like a waste to cut it short after growing it for so long.
Perhaps that was just his stubborn side nudging him.
Truthfully, he would cut his hair, whenever he the heat and sweat became so much for him he began to scream. It had come that close a few times, but he maintained enough patience and composure, where he just didn't snap altogether.
Mikito shifted, standing up, and came to rest on her knees beside him.
Madara stared at her, brows drawn together. He wasn't quite frowning, but his expression wasn't that of a blank canvas either.
"Yes?"
"You look a little too excited."
Mikito giggled. "This reminds me of when we first met. That time I tried to touch one of your spiky locks of hair, and you scowled at me."
Madara chuckled, shifting his gaze from her to the leaves above them. "I suppose if you insist."
Mikito grabbed his mane of hair, enthralled with it. "You'll be a lot cooler if it is shorter."
Madara nodded.
Mikito focused a little bit, and her finger was surrounded by wind. She swiped it across the back of his neck, watching his long mane fall from his scalp, and hit the ground. She carefully traced her finger around his face, evening his bangs so they framed his face.
She was probably enjoying herself a little too much, but it wasn't often Madara let her mess with his hair. He was always grabbing or yanking hers, not that she minded. It was nice to return the favor, even if it wasn't while they were rolling around.
"There we go, all done." Mikito said.
Madara grabbed his hair, staring at it.
"Look at that knot." He began to dig his finger into one of his spikes that had been cut. "Is it even?"
Mikito led him to the river, allowing him to stare at his reflection.
Madara barely recognized himself.
He was reminded of the time he was fourteen, and his hair was starting to grow out in spikes that were about to go beyond his shoulders. Mikito hadn't cut it a little shorter than he had it back then, but it wasn't short like when he was a child.
He felt a difference. It wasn't much, but having that much less hair definitely made him feel a little cooler. Sweat wasn't pouring through his scalp, it wasn't soaking into his hair, and his hair wasn't getting stuck his back.
An improvement.
"Feeling better than before?" Mikito asked.
"Very much so, thank you."
Mikito nodded, showing Madara her back.
He ran his hand through her long, long hair, and slowly tied it into a high tail.
He looked at the nape of her neck, tempted to kiss it, but held himself back. It didn't stop him from tracing his fingers around it, though.
"Madara!"
"Give me a second. You have a lot of hair."
He looped the band one more time, not touching the skin of her nape.
How tempted he was to do it...
"Thanks, Madara. Let us make headway."
Madara stalked off through the trees taking point, coming upon a depression that formed a valley nearby. He paced himself as he made his way across, and scaled up on the other side of it.
He smelled something.
Overwhelming.
There was blood sprayed across the ground and on the leaves of the surrounding undergrowth. There was lots of blood. Too much blood, for their taste.
They began to sprint, following rising ground whenever possible, and chopped their way through twisted snarls of foliage and dense undergrowth. All of their senses were alert, his Sharingan was flaring and pulsing.
Giant swathes of leaves slowed their movement, vines and creepers made them hasten their steps as they skidded along. It was all slick to the touch. Wet. Slimy. Parasitic flowers blossomed, and carnivorous plants opened their jagged fanged maws. It was beautiful, but terrifying just the same.
They raced up a steeper slope, climbing with ease. Neither of the two paced themselves, there wasn't much time, their instincts were flaring. Something was around, trying to conceal its presence, but they could feel its lust for blood.
Madara's skin was pricking and Mikito's hair were standing up on end.
The ridge line was close, but they had to ascend steeper pieces of ground before they got there. It was far too steep and treacherous to scramble or climb by hand. Vines and bright poisonous flowers covered the entirety of it, making gripping onto it too dangerous.
Their legs ached, their arms burned, their fingers hurt, and they could feel adrenaline start to pump through their veins. They were ready for the creature to show itself, the creature that had caused so much damage. It had to be around here.
The lust for blood was hanging thick in the air. For now, Madara knew, they were prey. Something was stalking them. Watching them.
A massive vine moved beneath his foot, shooting across the wall. Madara slipped down the wall, using the momentum of slipping to increase his speed. He jumped, and the vine flexed.
Mikito was less graceful, and slid to a stop. She was just a few inches ahead of Madara, and his rough inhale of breath made her shift back towards him, until she was a little behind him. Madara was sure he was seeing this—something was chasing them and trying to pull them with it.
Madara loosened his footing, and slipped again, feet smashing through the slick wood with ease. They were purchased. He brought a hand forward, sword in hard, cutting through the surrounding plants. He took note of the vine that curled, dipping towards him.
A vicious growl sounded from the back of Madara's throat. Blood was starting to drip everywhere, and he could see part of a carcass. There was a merging of snake and dragon and the heads were over a thousand times bigger than his own, and with their jaws open wide, Madara knew the monstrosity could surround them with its body and swallow them whole.
The beast ripped flesh, bone, tendon, and sinew with ease—the tearing sound was deafening.
"Looks like we came at the wrong time..." Mikito muttered, sword drawn. "It was eating."
"Yeah, I'm sure it'll let it slide."
He took note, that he couldn't see either of the snakes' tails. There were about thirty heads total, if he was counting right, but he couldn't see the tails, and wasn't sure if they were all part of one body, or multiple bodies linked together.
It could have tails and they were running along this entire wall—this whole cliff. It could easily be thousands of feet below, or to their side. The monster curled. Its heads dipped back, tongues darting left and right.
Madara feared that he was right. This beast was a multi headed snake, with all of the head connected to one body. A body he couldn't even see. He was starting to wonder if part of this steep slope was the monster's body.
"It's about to attack!" Mikito shouted.
Heads shot towards them with slit eyes and vicious fangs. Venom dripped from from those deadly maws. The beast's body contorted, forcing Madara to jump and wrap his arm around a vine. Mikito leapt to the side, digging her hand into a flower's stem.
Madara didn't panic. He had swiped across the beast's body. It left a long gash along its, but it didn't even seem to faze the creature at all.
Mikito lunged at the creature, and while she did manage to cut, its heads evaded the stroke.
"Mikito!"
"I can't just let it size me up!"
If she panicked...
Mikito couldn't afford to lose her composure. If this didn't work she had a few more options, but she wanted to wound or kill this monstrosity, preferably wound it so that it falls away. If she was lucky the impact those heads smashed with, would only increase the power of her thrust.
If she grabbed any vines or undergrowth, the snake would dip down and swallow him.
She wouldn't even be a morsel.
"Go for the heads!"
Madara brought his sword up, eyes blaring red. Just as four heads went for him, he gripped hard and swung into the black void of this monstrosity. The beast's two heads were knocked aside, blade cleaving through flicking tongues, severing them at the root, and splitting the top of the skull itself.
He pushed himself up into the air, using the mass of the monster to increase his velocity. His blade cleaved deep into the third head as he was launched skyward. He nearly lost control over his flight, whipping his body hard into a flip. His feet slammed into the wall.
All he could see was black, and he flew into the abyss without any fear. He was swallowed by it, fading and fading. He could smell something moist, something putrid, and something was that was soft to the touch.
He erupted out of the skull, blood trailing behind him.
Mikito darted towards Madara, but four heads cut her off, another two shot out around her sides, effectively closing her in. She slid down the wall, debris and shrubs thrown about by her monstrous descent.
She jumped just as the entire earth shook, and she could barely make out fangs beading with venom jammed into the spot where she had been. She arced her blade, spinning and pivoting as she increased her speed to match the beast's, but for every pivot, the beast moved twice as fast.
Slash.
Slash.
Slash.
She sped beyond the heads she split off with her blade, diving right for the next head that was zoned in on her. Venom beaded along its fangs, its eyes wide with the prospect of food, and it finally opened its giant maw.
Mikito flew right into it, teeth clenched as she felt something slick coat her skin. She pressed on into the darkness, blade pointed forward, and with a shout, she threw herself up, like the sky was her objective, and the darkness parted with blood and gore, and sunlight.
Pained, the snake snapped its huge body all at once. The whole wall shook and trembled. Trees and vines flew below, bouncing off every sharp edge. It let out a shrieking hiss of a roar, banging its remaining heads on the wall, the severed stumps slowly peeling off.
A choking gasp caught Madara's attention, and he turned to see Mikito being wrapped tight by the monster. In the time it took him to look, the monster wound several necks around him and he found oxygen was scarce.
The beast was coiling around them, its whole body shaking, trembling, almost like it was in a resonance with himself and Mikito. It was trying to constrict them, and it was working. He couldn't breathe. Mikito's mouth was gaping open as she sucked in air, struggling to get loose. Her arms lodged by her sides.
The beast reared back, mouths gaping.
Madara howled in fury, ripping his blade through two skulls. Blood and gore sprayed, and he was showered in both. In response, the monster thrashed in a rage. He could barely hear Mikito croak out as she was smashed into the cliff, while he shot ahead, smashing through a half rotted tree.
He wheezed painfully, peeling himself out from the debris. Shock swept over Madara as he was met with twenty heads, all trained on him. Fork tongues lashed out, slit eyes darkened, and venom dripped from maws drool.
"Mikito, use an earth jutsu!"
The beast shook once, entire body curling as it sized him up.
The whole cliff began to tremble.
"Mikito!"
She struggled to move. Her vision was blurring. But, she could still function. She could move. She took a deep breath the best she could, and spewed out shredding blades. They hacked and slashed away at the slick scaly skin of their predator, cutting through its muscly body.
Madara swiped, cutting off a head, and lunged away to the side. His hand grabbed for purchase, and his fingers ripped into a vine. He lunged away from the massive body, striking the surface, his hands raced and flashed, His finger nails clawed.
"Mikito!"
"Watch out!"
He scrambled for purchase. His hands and feet clawed into a rock, it forced him to adjust, but he curled into a flip, stopping his descent just barely. His head banged against the solid rock, and he let out a loud grunt.
He watched with a strange sense of dread as the monster's body continued to plummet, roaring in pure fury. Half of the cliff went along with it, and it was like thunder to his ears. It shook his bones all the way down to his marrow.
Madara waited until a heavy, meaty, earth shaking thud reverberated through his feet into his body and traveled all the way into his finger tips. It had taken nearly two hours for the beast's body to fall to the very bottom. It was already lost to the undergrowth below, but it likely struck every sharp edge on its way down.
He doubted that would be enough to kill the beast, but it was better down there than up by them. Unlike the snake he had encountered before, this monster was far more durable and a lot meaner. It would probably slink off, ripping whatever heads or parts of its body that were limp or holding it back. The very thought made him cringe.
He moved towards Mikito, crouching in front of her. "You okay?"
She nodded, still out of breath. "Thanks to you."
He grunted, helping her up. "You created the opening."
"Yeah..."
Madara squeezed her shoulders. "Don't be so modest. We are a team."
Once he deemed there were no more threats he began climbing again, having Mikito latch onto him. She had denied it at first, but after he insisted two times, she jumped on his back, wrapping her arms and legs around him.
A few minutes later he reached the ridge line. Mikito rolled onto her back, breathing heavily, keeping her arms spread to her sides. Madara brought himself into a crouch, taking deep breaths, keeping himself secluded in shade to add some relief.
He rubbed at a cut on his forearm, and Mikito grabbed his arm before he could yank it away.
"Let me heal it."
"It's-"
"You got this because of me. Let me..." Mikito trailed off, stubborn. "Let me heal it."
Madara nodded.
He took a breath, standing, and looked ahead. Just as he had expected. He got to see the entire landscape, and the landscape that surrounded that very landscape itself. He could see the seas, rivers, lakes, streams and that same huge mountain in the far distance. He swore he could even see a part of the ocean.
But, all around him was only land and water, the mountainous horizon was as prominent as always. He spotted rivers and streams. They were visible in some places, but where they wasn't, he was able to follow their course on the valley and along the mountainous paths losing themselves in the far distance.
Mikito finished healing his wound, keeping a hold of his arm. "Sorry about that back there."
Madara took a hold of her hand, giving it a squeeze. "Don't apologize. I'm just happy you're okay despite what that beast did to you. Your earth jutsu saved us."
Mikito ducked her head shyly, turning her focus onto the scenery before her. Madara kept much of his focus on his surroundings, and the background around them. It helped that he did that, so she could quell her shame silently because of her slip up.
"We can take a break, if you would like." Madara said, hands still shaking from before.
"Five minutes. I don't want to stick around here too long."
"We can-"
Mikito shook her head. "Five minutes."
Madara moved swiftly after their brief period of rest, swinging his gleaming blade as he hacked through the jungle vegetation, leading the way. He moved forward with purpose, wet, sweaty and dirty, but determined.
Mikito swept their surroundings. Chakra faded in and out, growing closer and further. There was no noise, save for the rain that would come and go every so often. Dragonflies and other flying insects darted and buzzed around them, distorting the air with the sounds of their wings.
Madara kept his eyes active. He monitored every centimeter that they stepped. Nothing was stalking or attacking them—that much he knew. At least during this moment in time, they weren't. But, that didn't mean something curious or hungry wasn't observing them at this very moment.
He moved down the valley side and towards a river. Madara could feel his body tensing like before. His heart hammered, his hands clenched, and his eyes narrowed. Danger was within an arm's reach, and he didn't want to run into pack hunters.
They moved across the treacherous terrain, making their way towards the ridge line. The trek was difficult, but remained consistent enough. They made headway through dense undergrowth and beneath the shadow of the jungle's canopy.
They remained alert for dangers known and unknown, they had to be prepared for everything. They remained quiet, the only communication being eye contact or just a whisper between them. When the slopes got steeper, they used their hands to pull on roots and dangling plants. Sometimes they remained motionless, eyes trained above and below.
They changed positions from climbing to guarding one another. They were making good progress, and soon they would be nearing the ridge line. Close to the ridge line and the fallen trees, Madara saw some creature or person pinned to a tree just a few feet away from their trail. He worked his way across, glancing to his side, and behind him at Mikito, making sure he wasn't straying too far.
Mikito caught his eye, and he nodded.
He knew what was pinned before he could ever get close enough.
He pulled the claw from the creature and let it fall to the ground.
It had been impaled.
He took the rear, glancing back every so often to make sure nothing was following them. He never cared for bringing up the rear, but knew it was a position they had to switch off on.
During one mission in his youth he had been on reconnaissance patrol with sixty other men and his father. Weeks out, heavy rain blurred their vision, supplies and rations had been running low, his father had been trying to lead them to a prearranged meeting place. As night fell, Madara had been in the middle of their group, helping to carry an injured man.
By the time they reached their destination the next morning, and heard the footsteps of Uchiha shinobi coming to meet them, Madara, his father, and two others had been the last men in that patrol unit, and everyone else vanished.
The forest had swallowed up the rest of the men.
They were never found.
He refused to let that happen right now. This place was more dangerous than any forest or jungle he had ever encountered before. A tree trunk might be a creature's leg, or the creature itself. A rustle in the shadows could manifest into a pack of flesh eating hunters. A rustle in the leaves could be a swarm of flying monsters. A soggy splash could be the footstep of some giant amphibian.
Anything could be hiding just out of sight, and probably was.
Madara kept his gnawing trepidation at bay, and remained alert.
Mikito smelled the scene of destruction long before she ever saw it. The stench of leaking body fluids was almost overpowering. There was no fire, nor was there any fat sacs being burned by fire. If there had been, the bodies strewn about would have appeared like they were blown away. Pieces of bodies were strewn around. Trees had fallen, others bore scars from loose claws. The scene of the melee was huge, and the remains of every fallen creature here was a testament to their final moments on this land.
Mikito approached the wreckage and saw a dead lizard-feline creature's body, impaled through a tree. The creature reeked of decay. Something had eaten its eyes and a part of its throat.
"Over here." Madara said, looking down at his feet thirty feet away. Another body. "Must have been thrown by the impact."
"Leave them." Mikito said.
A black scuttling shape fell from one carcass's chest cavity, and tried to run. Madara swiped at it. It took two more swings to split the spider's body. He stabbed it through one of its bulbous eyes, smearing it into the soil.
"Fucking spider." He hissed.
"I hate spiders." Mikito remarked.
"The feeling is mutual."
They observed the scene with keen eyes. Sweating and wary in the heavy heat. They stood in silence and motionless, silently saying goodbye to the vicious creatures. Just ahead Madara froze. He was halfway into a stance, before he relaxed, turned, and pressed his fingers against his lips. He pointed ahead at a clearing in the jungle. There was a massive pool of blood, feeding into the nearby rivers, streams, and lakes.
Despite the crimson liquid, the surface was remarkably still, and was covered with large lily pads clumps of moss, and knots of grass. There were islands in the middle, scattered with branches, old boles, and grassy ferns. Madara watched a bird swoop down, and crunch down on a fleeing wasp about the size of his head. He was thankful he wasn't around the nest of those savage wasps.
"Madara?" Mikito whispered.
He only shook his head and pointed at the islands.
Mikito took a closer look, and spotted subtle movement.
It was barely there. Hardly, but she seen movement.
Ripples were pushing and spreading from the islands, traveling across the body of water. The large lily pads rode the ripples, some tipping, and anxious frogs and other amphibious creatures leapt across the pads, splashing up water. Fish sped away, and anything else that was winded, scurried out of sight. Madara felt shock as the islands began to lift out of the water.
He felt disoriented, for a moment. The ground was dropping beneath his feet, and he swayed, remaining upright, but still felt like he fell. His lips tightened as he seen shapes in the pool of water. Gigantic, majestic water bison-creatures and buffalos slowly rose from the water and grime. Weeds and plants hung from their horns in swaths, easily seven hundred feet in length. Their heads were the size of an island, easily enough, lifting from the water, and turning to focus on the two of them.
The group chewed, jaws grinding, each time making a wet thud. Water continued to pour from their backs as they rose to their full height. Birds and flying insects landed on their horns, snagging and pinching small creatures and other arthropods from them. Others ripped away the soggy vegetation, sending whatever was using it for cover into the water.
Madara could sense no threat from this pack of beasts. They weren't as fascinated with them as they were with them. Some dipped their heads down, and scooped another mouthful of soggy plant from the bottom of the body of water. Others only watched him and Mikito, curious. These creatures were gentle, unless they were provoked. He was almost certain they were gentle. He had saved one last night—though it was a water buffalo-type of creature, and it never made any move to trample or squash him.
It had been hurt and pressed into the ground, and needed help, but he was certain that creature wouldn't have trampled him.
"Look at that..." Madara whispered.
Mikito smiled, pleased to see the sense of wonder in her husband's eyes. It was a gleam she was becoming familiar with the longer they stayed here. The shine of wonder. Maybe what Madara really needed and craved was wonder.
"We're going to pass them slowly. I don't believe they are threat, but be ready for anything. They appear gentle, but..."
Mikito nodded, setting a hand on his shoulder. "We don't want to provoke them."
"Exactly."
The creatures snorted, and Madara was reminded of an animal sneezing as hard as it could.
He grimaced, covering his nose. He could smell them now. A heavy, sour, odor, mixed with something that was like sap. The majestic group watched them the whole time they moved around the pool of water, heads dipping back down to gather more vegetation.
Seeing that pack of water bisom creatures wasn't the first time Madara thought about what else might be in these lands with them. That monstrosity of an ape, those huge lizards, that voracious centipede, the snake creature he had slain, the water buffalo he saved last night, that multi-headed snake they recently fought, the giant spiders, and now this...
"Let's move."
Mikito nodded, following after him.
The terrain grew more treacherous, and soon the massive pool of water was lost in the jungle behind and under them. The ground rose and fell, plants and other vegetation grew thick and spiked outwards.
They worked hard to clear a path, growling with each swing. Some of the plant life Madara recognized, much of it, he didn't know where to start. He was no botanist or anything along those lines, by any stretch. He knew that most of the undergrowth here wasn't found anywhere else.
He had studied and heard of carnivorous plants, and knew there were a lot of species that trapped and digested insects. Madara felt he couldn't trust any of the berries or nuts he had seen growing around here. If everything else wanted to eat them, it only followed that the plant life would too.
It was about a half hour before they came a clearing with flowers. There brightly colored, shining in the sun. Some had large upright cups filled with water. The plants themselves were thousands of feet tall, so the bulb that held the water had to be twice that in width.
High above them, the bulbs forming huge spheres that sucked up the sunlight and left them in darkness. Curiosity got the better of him, Madara approached the formation carefully. He wouldn't be able to look into them, unless he jumped really high, but he was almost certain that he could see dark spots and bulges through the entire stem.
Mikito looked at the stem, hand twitching as it clenched her sword.
"I thought the ones we seen before were big..." Madara mused, grabbing the stem.
He wouldn't be able to snap this stem in two like those other flowers. The stem was as thick and sturdy as a tree trunk and there were small, white bristles coating it. As he looked closer, they appeared to be tiny little blades.
Mikito arced forward, splitting through the stem.
The stem's contents across the ground, and Madara jumped back, sliding for five seconds until he deemed he was far enough away. There were birds, centipedes, scorpions, spiders, those canine creatures that had ambushed him, a feline creature twice the size, massive lizards, blue hornets, and red ants that were the size of his torso.
All of it was in varying stages of decay, and looked to be decaying still.
"Don't go near it. I am not sure if it is acid or enzymes, but something is decaying what was inside. We don't want to get near any of that." Mikito warned.
Madara looked at the mess of corpses, eyes hardening. Even the plants were top contenders in this place in the food chain. Any creature that thought it was food, could be used for water, chopped down, or just wanted to destroy it, would be consumed within a second. He hated to think that these plants were sentient enough to choose their meals and hunt, like any other animal.
They moved side by side, remaining alert, they paused frequently to check their surroundings and rest. Sounds and smells assaulted them. Madara now knew from firsthand experience that when the constant sounds lessened, that they would need to be ready to kill.
Mikito stopped on sheer reflex alone, if she hadn't, she would have walked right into Madara.
"Madara?" She asked, hand gripping her sword even tighter.
"Path..." He muttered.
Ahead of him was the path he had been cutting through the vegetation and undergrowth. Trailing vines and creepers dripped and oozed sap. Snakes nearby hissed, coiling their bodies up to evade. Shadows faded in and out as spiders and other crawlers sped away, disappearing into trampled leaves.
A few feet ahead of his path, was destruction and an opening that was much, much, much bigger. Boles were contorted and ripped, branches cluttered the ground, chipped and broken. Leaves and twigs were strung about, still flying through the air.
There was depressed foliage and the ground itself seemed to have been caved in.
Mikito stepped through the narrow path Madara had created, and stepped out into the open. Her brows were drawn together and her eyes were narrowed so much it looked like she was squinting. Shifting her focus back and forth, until she landed on an oddity.
"Footprint. It's pretty fresh, too. About an hour."
"What could have made that footprint?"
Madara was sitting inside of it, easily. There was meters between him and the next opening of this footprint where toes separated and merged. Whatever it had been weighed a lot, because the ground was caved in. It had been humongous, as well. He couldn't begin to imagine what creature did this.
"That must be what killed those creatures before..." Mikito trailed off, looking around briefly.
"How can you be so certain?"
Mikito remained tense, not relaxing. "Right now, we're in a foot print. However, there are hand prints here as well if you look carefully. That massacre we seen—whatever did that, is capable of walking upright."
Madara didn't like the sound of that.
"What could have moved so quickly as that and cause that much destruction." Madara stated, more than asked.
He eyed his surroundings, then turned to Mikito, not sensing any danger.
"What creature would kill and not eat?"
"One that thirsts for blood and nothing more." Mikito replied, tone grim.