The Power of the Moon

PART 48

"Izuna succumbed to the wounds he received from battle during that clash with Tobirama." Madara spoke, breaking the silence. The corners of his lips turned down as the thought of his brother crossed his mind.

"Madara. My friend. I am sorry." Hashirama frowned, stepping forward. "I will speak to Tobirama about the Uchiha-"

But Madara quickly interrupted his friend, waving a dismissive hand in the air. "We both know that will not work out."

'Madara..." Hashirama furrowed his eyebrows, reaching out for his hurting friend. Madara was angry, and Hashirama could see it, even though the Uchiha's expression did not flinch to show it.

Madara saw his friend's defeated state, and for a slight second a sliver of hope grew in his heart when he thought about his unborn child and his wife. "Do what you can about Tobirama in the mean time. And stop sulking." Madara ordered Hashirama.

-

Madara had just gotten done with his paperwork, and now the two had been relaxing out on the porch as the sun was setting. Ayumi and Madara would often spend their evenings like this, in the comfort of each others's company while enjoying a cup of tea. They would talk about the future, ambitions they had for their respective clans, new jutsu, history, or just plain contemplation.

But Ayumi was no fool. Something was definitely wrong with her husband, and she could sense it, though his face did not express it for a mere second.

Ayumi eyed the rim of her cup. Time had definitely passed and she grew only more obvious, her eyes cast down to her protruding belly, and her swollen feet that had been hanging off of the edge of the porch.

"Are you well?" Madara broke their silence. Ayumi hummed reassuringly, taking another sip of her tea.

"Thankfully so, but..." She thought of his passed family members, "How are you holding up?" He would little grief in front of her, but she knew that the times Madara was by himself, his family was all he would think of.

The question hung in the air for a minute or so.

Madara had known what she had meant, and the thought of his family struck something unfamiliar in his heart. It was hatred - wrath. And he felt a resentment growing towards the Senju for it.

"Such is life." Madara said rather coldly, his eyes didn't move an inch as he looked straight ahead. "Lives are often sacrificed, and traded for another." He turned his gaze to eye her belly.

Ayumi didn't understand why, but it made her feel uncomfortable. Madara's eyes met hers now, they stagnantly both stared at each other.

That rage Madara was feeling deep down in his chest slowly diminished whenever he looked at his wife, and it made him hesitate.

How would Madara be able to bring himself to tell her that he planned to leave the village, as the Uchiha had no hope?

"Madara?" Ayumi's voice had brought him back to reality.
"Ayumi." Madara placed his hand on her back, and she relaxed often under his touch. She smiled. "The evening is quiet. Would you like to walk?" Madara offered.

Ayumi nodded in agreement, "Mm."

-

The couple both stood on the edge of a clifftop, looking down at the waterstream hundreds of feet below them.
Ayumi sighed, relaxing her shoulders. "I feel like all my problems go away when I see the water sway." She spoke.

Madara looked at his wife. He had understood what she meant, because during Madara's free time he would often come out here to contemplate. But Madara's eyes were a different colour now. A deeper red, bearing a different pattern.
"Madara. Your eyes!" Ayumi spoke shockingly, leaning forward inspecting their new pattern.

"Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan." Madara muttered. Her eyes were strikingly white in comparison to his, and he could have sworn he could see his sharingan reflect on her orbs.

"How beautiful." She stared deeply. But her lips mulled into a thin line when she figured out where his eyes came from.

"Izuna's parting gift." Madara looked ahead into the water. She nodded, expecting to hear that.

"Ayumi." He said her name more sternly than usual, causing her to knit her eyebrows in concern.

"What is on your mind, anata?"
Madara was unsure how to come forth to his wife, no one would ever make him hesitate the way she would.

Madara turned so that his torso faced hers, and she did so vice versa.

"I am leaving the village."