Shinobi Isekai: Round Two

Coincidence

Kyou's tanned skin turned a mottled red as a blush spread across her face. "Shut up!"

Anyone with eyes could see way Kyou looked at Tobirama, but something told Madara he was the only one who recognized its true significance. It was more than just hatred for the Senju or a rivalry with the only other suiton user of any skill that drove his little cousin to fight with the boy their clan was starting to call the Pale Demon. And he would need to be blind not to notice how Tobirama rushed to meet her every time.

In another, perfect world, they would be meeting in wedding talks. Alas, they had to make do with a battlefield.

It was hard not to pity Kyou, living the way she did—.

"Like you're one to talk. Just try and tell me this isn't just another scheme to get Hashirama alone—ah! Hey!"

She did make it easier, though.

He smiled down at her where he'd wrapped an arm around her neck, her long dark hair a mess as she tried in vain to escape his hold. "Now, now, Kyou-kun. I don't know what you're talking about."

He let her go just in time for her to send herself flying backward, the force of her push too much now that he was no longer holding her. She crashed into the snow and Madara allowed himself a bit of joy from her grumbling. Still, the mention of his one time friend's name sent an ache through him. Kyou could never call Tobirama her own so long as they stood by their clans, but there was always the possibility that one or both of them would defect—a small one, but still. Madara's affections, on the other hand...

It was a bitter reality he had long come to accept. Meeting Hashirama on the battlefield was all he could realistically expect. Maybe, one day, there would be peace, and he would be able to call him his friend. Any more than that was impossible.

His cousin brushed snow from her hair and sniffed angrily, glaring at his through thick dark eyelashes. It really was a shame. If it wasn't for her parents, Kyou could have been a beautiful woman trained in the arts of the kunoichi. Instead, she was a frontline fighter, her hands rough from training and her face...

Well, perhaps that was for the better. It wasn't as though Kyou was still being forced to fight for a succession she wasn't even eligible for. She could reveal herself to the elders at any time and take a place among the women. Of course, if she did that, then, as the only daughter of the main house, she would immediately be betrothed to Madara. While he could readily admit that she would be the best wife he could possibly ask for, given she was already aware of his preferences, he would rather not bind her in such a way.

When he realized the truth, he resolved to keep it to himself, if only to spare Kyou from becoming his bride.

Not that she was very appreciative.

"You jerk," she hissed as she stomped back to his side, clothing soaked through from the snow. "If I get sick I'm spreading it to you."

He smiled at her. "Please do. I could use a rest."

Despite her grumbling, she fell into step beside him as they headed back to the village. Most people, his brother included, were careful to keep themselves as step behind him out of deference for his position as heir, but not Kyou. Rank, tradition—these things meant nothing to her.

"Who else is on the team? Beside Zuzu, of course."

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "What makes you think Izuna is on it?"

The look she gave him had him struggling to contain his laughter. Only Kyou would look at him like that. "Are you telling me he isn't?"

"He is."