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Two Point One
April

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Bathed in the dawning sunshine that bleeds in through the bathroom window and staring in horror at the huge clog of thick black hair currently blocking her shower drain, Naruto feels the temper that has been building higher and higher within her body snap like a twig.

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Reaching for the bold, blue sky that stretches over her head, Naruto cracks her neck from side to side, shoulders rolling with the motion. Madara's burning glare sits heavy on her back and she's perfectly fine with that. It's been eighteen hours and already she's irritated by this Madara. The other one, the one from the war, she'd been enraged at. Furious. Determined to defeat. This one… this one's pretty lacklustre in comparison. Really fucking lacklustre. And his torso's a mess of scar tissue where Baa-chan had removed the part of Shodaime that he'd graphed on. Urgh, sick sciencey stuff, too Orochimaru like for her tastes. It's creepy.

'He's a fucking Uchiha, what did you expect.'

Snorting, Naruto jams her hand into the backpack she's lugged from the apartment, grabbing hold of the kunai pouch. A quick twist on her heels and she's facing the biggest responsibility of her career, allowing her to cleanly throw him the weapons pack. She follows up with a shuriken pouch, dropping the bag to the earth and folding her arms once her hands are free. Now, Naruto's seen some shit, but it's still up there in her top ten weirdest sights to see Uchiha Madara dressed in Konoha standard. A Uchiha Madara who's not that much older than her, younger than Kakashi-sensei, certainly. Planting both hands firmly upon her hips, Naruto jams her nose up into the air, holding eye contact the entire time Madara straps the two weapons pouches onto his person.

"Are you gonna spar? You gotta get back into shape somehow and I don't wanna be looking after you when I start taking missions again." Not that any real big missions requiring her awesomeness have come up in recent weeks. After all, the world's in a tentative state of peace, Sasuke's off on his soul-searching journey so there's no sparring partner there, Orochimaru's out hiding under some rock in the sixth dimension or whatever until his status as 'remaining enemy number one' is removed… Though Madara's survival may have kicked him from the top spot already. Well, snake-face did help them in the war, but then again, Kaguya wasn't exactly throwing herself into an alliance with him. They'd been the best of a bad lot and he'd picked the one that'd actually have him on side (they'd been desperate like that). Should he really get a freebie for that?

"-oman!"

Doing her best to hide the fact she'd jumped at the commanding tone, Naruto rubs sheepishly at the back of her head, well-practiced grin on her face as she responds, "No need to shout, Ma-man."

"Suddenly missing the guts to call me by name?"

"No way! If you're gonna be rude, so am I, Spots. Now are you gonna spar, or not?" His cheek does that twitch thing, the same jumpy thing Sasuke's cheek does whenever he's getting close to the end of his tether.

Naruto doesn't give him time to try reeling in his temper. She wants that temper, wants to push him, wants to see that fire again. Because what had once been an inferno, what had once pushed her to her limits… it's nothing more than embers now. This is a shadow of the Uchiha Madara and it's not what she signed up for. So, without hesitation, Naruto rushes him.

He doesn't move. Not until Naruto's open palm slams into his shoulder. It's like hitting a start button, flicking an on switch, as if there is something programmed deep into Madara's core, a key piece of code that he just cannot turn off. Because the truth is, Uchiha Madara cannot stand being bested. Especially by a woman.

He explodes forwards, limbs cutting through the air Naruto had occupied a half second ago. She twists back and away, ducking low where he clearly expects her to go high, leaping when he expects her to roll. Without his Sharingan, Madara is slower to react, slower to read her movements. And Naruto will eagerly admit that her taijutsu is far from the cleanest style. But her opponent hits hard and fast, blazes hot and heavy and only seems to flare that much more with each bit of ground he gains, be it forcibly taken or given as part of Naruto's master plan that'll come together any moment now. Thanks to her little spark he's finally burning, devouring any and all fuel that's offered. Uchiha Madara's taijutsu can be described in other way than fire itself.

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Uzumaki Naruto's taijutsu can only be compared to fire. Uncontrollable, unpredictable, as dangerous as it is surprising and completely free of any coherent, formal technique. There's no follow-up katas, there's no pattern, there's no god damned sense to it at all! It's unrefined, it's ridiculous, and it's fucking infuriating. Because it's working. Unable to access his Sharingan, he has no hopes of predicting it effectively; Madara finds himself struggling to keep up to speed with blocking her attacks at all. She's fast too. Between himself and Hashirama, Madara has always been swifter, always been the more agile of the two. To find someone else upon that level (beyond that level, though he'll sooner choke on blood from his own self-mutilated tongue than admit it) is disconcerting.

Starving off another roundhouse kick with his forearm, Madara grabs the woman's ankle, with his free arm, readying a twist and flip manoeuvre. Only Uzumaki moves with him, adding her own spin, torso angled with an elbow careening towards his head. He's forced to abandon the motion in order to protect his cranium and her leg, hidden behind the motion of her body, slams into his ribs to drive the breath from him. Madara forcibly disengages, snarling as he's pushed to put a few feet of distance from the woman who's not given him an inch of breathing room in more than this fight alone.

Panting, Madara squares his shoulders up, ready to go another round as the woman rotates her own arms, shaking her hands back and forth with a wild sort of grin on her face. There'd been far and few women fighting back in his own time, very few capable of keeping up with the usual fighters. There had never been a woman as swift and as strong as the one before him now. Had she been fighting with the Uzumakis… well, keeping both them and the Senju back might have been a losing battle. Not that he'll admit to that.

"Giving up already?" Uzumaki Naruto questions, a taunting, smug little smile to her lips that has his hackles rising.

"Not likely."

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They clash. They clash again and again and again. Every single time he manages to put her down, she's back on her feet in no time. Logically he knows it's because she's part Uzumaki, predominantly because she's a jinchūriki. But it's still utterly infuriating to realise she has more stamina than him. He's exhausted, limbs shaking and sweat beading across his forehead. Uzumaki looks like she's been for a brief jog under the summer sun; glowing but not having worked up a true sweat. If he had his chakra, that wouldn't be the case. She'd be hard pressed to match him with his chakra. But… he doesn't have it. Doesn't have access to it because they've stripped him of it. Because they're trying to rehabilitate him through some twisted variation of Stockholm syndrome using the woman before him.

"Well, I think that's enough of a warm up for today, 'ttebayo." Stretching her arms up above her head and then shaking out her legs, Uzumaki shoves one hand in her trouser pocket and the other goes up to hook a thumb beneath the material of her headband.

"Warm up," Madara snarls disbelievingly. Had he truly fallen so out of shape, locked up within the Senju bitch's basement? No, that can't be right. He can't possibly be so… weak.

"Yeah. Can't really get onto the big stuff until we know you're not gonna let loose on the civilians," Uzumaki hums, scraping a hand through her wild bangs. The hair is far too long, not that Madara has much room to talk on that front. Long hair is a boast, a brag that no one can touch him with such a hinderance. Though, he supposes, if anyone in this village were able to wear their hair so free, it would be Uzumaki.

Something comes flying his way and Madara snatches it from the air. It's not a kunai, however. Instead, a plastic bottle of water resides within his grip. A quick glance to Uzumaki reveals she has its twin; she's busy downing the entire contents in a remarkable display of greed. A single droplet tracks down from the corner of her lips, dripping from the tip of her chin to splash against her collarbone. The tanned flesh of her throat works quickly and efficiently; she's soon crushing the empty carcass between her fingers. Madara hastily begins unscrewing his own, throwing his head back to begin draining the contents with the same efficiency that Uzumaki has just displayed. Absolutely nothing ladylike about her, that much is clear. It answers the question of why she's such a good fighter; it's all she's ever focused on. Hell, he'd be surprised if she had any other talents at all. Certainly, she's no good at household upkeep; he lives in her apartment, he can and will judge.

"And you'll ever be sure of that?" Madara questions, doing his best to ignore the bitter undertone the words come out laced with.

"Nope. But the more we interact, the better a read I can get. Then I can crush you." She grins, slamming one closed fist against and open hand as Madara feels his own temper flare up once again.

"Crush me," he parrots, a dark laugh following up the words. He can't continue though, for Uzumaki snaps right back, taking four giant strides forwards until they're pretty much nose for nose. Or, they would be, were she not so short.

"Hell yeah. We still took you down when you were all Rinnegan'd up. With that sealed away, I don't even think I'd need Kurama's help to smack you around."

"You're delusional, woman." He expects her to snap back, waits for it, readies himself for it. Instead, Uzumaki just smirks at him. Somehow, it's even more infuriating than any retort she could have coughed up.

Well, you (and I) never know what fic I'm gonna update next. So, here. Merry Christmas.

Tsume

xxx