Hana had finished her training early that day.

Tobirama had given her a series of new exercises to refine her chakra control, and though she had completed them, he had still thrown her a pointed glance before dismissing her.

Which meant one thing—He knew she was tired. And Tobirama Senju did not entertain exhaustion.

So, for once, Hana had the rest of the day to herself. And she fully intended to enjoy it.

This was how Madara Uchiha found her—sitting on the wooden porch of a tall building, absentmindedly poking a stray cat with a stick.

He stared. Then, after a long pause—"…What in the world are you doing?"

Hana, still focused on the cat, didn't even look up.

"It's a game."

Madara's eye twitched. He crossed his arms, watching as she tapped the cat's tail with the stick, causing it to flick aggressively before swishing back into place.

"…You're antagonizing an animal."

Hana finally glanced up, a completely unrepentant smile on her face.

"It's building character."

Madara pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I trained you to fight not—" he gestured vaguely, "this."

Hana shrugged. "Balance is important."

Madara sighed heavily. Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and began walking away.

Hana watched him go. Then, before she could stop herself—"Are you grumpy because the cat likes me more?"

Madara froze mid-step. Slowly—*deliberately—*he turned his head.

"What?"

Hana smirked. "I mean, cats can sense people's auras, you know?" She rested her chin in her hand. "Maybe it doesn't like you."

Madara's eye twitched again. "I do not care about a cat's opinion."

Hana gasped dramatically. "That's exactly what someone would say if they were jealous of a cat."

Madara closed his eyes and exhaled slowly as if trying to find patience within himself.

Then—"I regret ever training you."

Hana laughed.

Madara hadn't noticed it at first. The way their interactions had changed. Before, every exchange had been strictly about training. Hana had been serious, determined, and disciplined. And Madara had kept his distance.

But now—Now, she talked to him.

Not about jutsu, strategy, or battle.

Just about… anything. Trivial things. Unimportant things. Annoying things. And somehow—Madara kept responding.

One afternoon, Hana found Madara at a small tea house on the outskirts of the village. He was alone, as usual, drinking his tea in peace. So, naturally—Hana sat down across from him.

Madara narrowed his eyes. "…What are you doing?"

Hana smiled, resting her elbows on the table. "Joining you."

Madara exhaled sharply. "You have your friends."

"You are my friend."

Madara blinked at her.

"…Because you are, are you not?"

Madara stared. Hana stared back. Then—she picked up one of his dumplings and ate it.

Madara's entire body went still.

Hana chewed. "Mmm. This is good."

A vein popped in Madara's forehead. "…Did you just steal my food?"

Hana swallowed. "Would you believe me if I said it was an accident?"

Madara's glare could have set the table on fire.

"Absolutely not."

Hana shrugged, reaching for another one. Madara smacked her hand away.

She gasped. "You'd hit an innocent girl?"

Madara scoffed. "You're about as innocent as Hashirama is subtle."

Hana pouted. "That's not very nice."

Madara took a pointed sip of his tea. "I am not nice."

Hana tapped her chin. "I think you secretly are."

Madara almost choked on his drink. "Excuse me?"

Hana grinned.

"I mean, you pretend to be all grumpy and serious, but I think you secretly care."

Madara stared.

Then—He stood up.

"We're done here."

Hana laughed as he walked away.

It wasn't that Madara liked her. Not exactly. But—He had grown accustomed to her.

Somehow, in the span of a few months, she had gone from a reluctant student to a constant presence. And even worse—Madara realized that he didn't mind it.… Most of the time.

One evening, as the sun set over Konoha, Madara and Hana stood near the training fields after another exhausting session. Madara stretched his shoulders, watching her carefully.

"You've gotten more better."

Hana smirked. "That's the second compliment you've given me."

Madara scowled. "That was not a compliment. It was an observation."

Hana grinned. "Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that."

Madara sighed heavily. "You are insufferable."

Hana hummed. "But if I stopped being insufferable, who would annoy you?"

Madara paused. And that was when Hana saw it—The smallest twitch of a smirk. He turned away before she could say anything. But she had seen it.

And she would never let him live it down.

Hana had only meant to pick up some groceries. It was a simple task—get miso, rice, some fresh vegetables, and maybe something sweet for later. She had not expected to run into Madara Uchiha, standing at a vendor's stall, glaring at a very confused merchant.

Hana blinked. Madara looked one second away from setting the entire stand on fire.

"…Madara-san?" Madara's crimson eyes flickered at her, his expression dark.

"Do you know how ridiculous this is?" he muttered, gesturing toward the vendor, who looked utterly lost.

Hana stepped forward cautiously. "I don't know, you tell me."

Madara sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I am trying to buy tea," he said, exasperated, "and this fool is telling me that there are 'different kinds' of tea."

Hana blinked. "…Because there are?"

Madara scoffed. "Tea is tea."

Hana stared at him. Then turned to the vendor, who still looked very uncomfortable.

"I'll handle this," she said kindly, stepping in front of Madara.

The vendor is visibly relaxed. Hana quickly scanned the selection. "Do you want green tea, black tea, herbal, something stronger?"

Madara frowned. "The normal kind."

"That means nothing."

Madara huffed. "The kind I usually drink."

Hana sighed, already rubbing her temples. "And what kind is that?"

Madara paused.

Then—"…I don't know."

Hana bit back a laugh. "You don't even know what tea you drink?"

Madara crossed his arms. "It was always there when I wanted it."

Hana chuckled, shaking her head. "You are hopeless."

Madara scowled. "I am not."

Hana smiled sweetly. "Then pick one."

Madara glared at the tea as if it had personally offended him.

Hana leaned in closer. "You're struggling, aren't you?"

"…No."

Hana smirked.

Madara clicked his tongue, grabbing a random box and handing it to the vendor.

"There. Done."

Hana looked at the label.

Then—

"Oh no."

Madara frowned. "What?"

Hana grinned. "That's floral tea."

Madara froze.

"…What."

Hana giggled. "It's full of delicate flower petals and has a very soft, sweet aroma."

Madara stared at the box in horror. Slowly, he turned back to the vendor.

"…I changed my mind."

The vendor quickly swapped it out for a different blend.

Hana laughed the entire time.

Madara sighed. "You are the most irritating person I know."

Hana beamed. "That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

Madara walked away. Hana followed.

The training grounds were silent, except for the rhythmic sound of metal clashing. Hana ducked under Madara's kunai strike, pivoting sharply before launching a counterattack. Madara deflected her with ease, his Sharingan tracking every movement.

"You're predictable."

Hana huffed, narrowly dodging his next strike. "And you're annoying."

Madara smirked. "Good comeback."

Hana growled. Then—Her stomach rumbled.

Loudly.

The sparring stopped immediately. Madara stared. Hana froze. Then, quickly, she tried to cover the sound with a fake cough.

Madara raised an eyebrow. "Did you just try to disguise your hunger?"

"…No."

Madara crossed his arms. "When was the last time you ate?"

Hana hesitated.

Madara's eye twitched.

"You absolute fool."

Hana pouted. "I was busy!"

Madara sighed heavily. "Unbelievable. You train all day and don't even eat properly."

Hana huffed. "I was going to eat after this!"

Madara threw a kunai at her feet.

"We're done for today. Go eat."

Hana blinked. "Wait, really?"

Madara rolled his eyes. "Yes. You're useless when you're hungry."

Hana grinned. "Wow, you care about me."

Madara scowled. "I care about not wasting my time."

Hana laughed.

Still—She turned to leave.

Then, after a moment, she paused.

"…You wanna come?"

Madara stared at her.

Hana smiled. "If you're not busy."

Madara exhaled heavily.

"…Fine."

Hana beamed. "I'm getting dumplings."

Madara scoffed. "Of course, you are." And just like that—they left together.

It was only a matter of time before someone noticed the shift in their relationship. That someone was, of course, Hashirama. One day, he spotted Hana and Madara talking in the village. And to his absolute shock—Madara was not glowering. He was not insulting her. He was not even scowling.

No.

He was standing there—arms crossed, listening. Hashirama nearly fainted. He immediately grabbed Mito and Tobirama and pointed dramatically.

"Look! Look! Madara is socializing!"

Tobirama barely spared them a glance. "Hana is the one talking."

Hashirama shook him. "But he's listening!"

Tobirama sighed. "Madara tolerating someone's presence isn't new."

Hashirama gasped. "But he doesn't tolerate anyone! Except me—sometimes. This is huge!"

Tobirama pinched the bridge of his nose. But even he had to admit—Madara's patience for Hana was… interesting.

Hashirama smirked.

Tobirama sighed.

This was going to get out of hand very soon.

Madara was starting to notice a pattern. Wherever he went—Hana was there. It wasn't planned. It wasn't intentional. But it kept happening. Like today, for example.

He had gone out for a quiet walk, intending to avoid unnecessary human interaction, when—

"Oh! Madara-san!"

Hana appeared out of nowhere, beaming. Madara exhaled slowly.

"…What do you want?"

Hana grinned. "Nothing. I just saw you walking and thought, 'Hey, I should annoy him.'"

Madara blinked.

Then scowled. "You're admitting it now?"

Hana shrugged. "Might as well be honest."

Madara sighed heavily. Regret. So much regret.

"Fine. Say whatever nonsense you need to say so you can leave."

Hana tilted her head. "You assume I'm leaving."

Madara stopped walking. Slowly, he turned to her.

"…You're following me?"

Hana smiled innocently. "Think of it as a company."

Madara pinched the bridge of his nose.

It wasn't just today. This kept happening. And Madara had started to let it happen. At first, he had assumed she was just being persistent. Then he had assumed she was doing it for her amusement.

But then—he started to notice something. When Hana was around, things felt… different.

Lighter. Not in a dramatic way—but in the little things. Like the way she always had something completely ridiculous to say. Or the way she constantly tested his patience but never actually crossed a line. Or—the fact that he never told her to leave.

Not really. Not anymore.

And that was when it hit him. He had, somehow, unwillingly, ended up with an annoying follower.

And she was the single most annoying creature in existence.

One evening, after another exhausting day, Madara sat on the training grounds, watching the sunset. Hana flopped down next to him.

Madara sighed. "What now?"

Hana yawned, stretching. "Nothing. Just sitting."

Madara tilted his head. "…That's it?"

Hana nodded.

A rare silence settled between them. For once, she wasn't teasing him, or causing problems, or saying something absurd.

She was just—there. Madara exhaled. And, begrudgingly, he admitted it to himself.

He had grown used to her presence.

Maybe even—fond of it. Hana yawned again.

Madara glanced at her.

"…Go to sleep somewhere else."

Hana grinned sleepily. "Aww. You care."

Madara scoffed. Then—to her absolute shock—He reached over and flicked her forehead.

Hana jerked back, scandalized. "Madara-san!"

Madara smirked. "You're annoying."

Hana rubbed her forehead. "And you're mean."

Madara looked at her unfazed. Hana narrowed her eyes.

Then—She flicked him back.

Madara froze. Slowly, he turned to her.

Hana gasped, scrambling to her feet. "WAIT, IT WAS INSTINCT—"

Madara chased her around the training grounds for the next ten minutes.

Madara Uchiha had spent years mastering patience, discipline, and control. And then—Haruka happened.

Now?

Now he had a permanent nuisance in his life. And the worst part? He didn't mind.