II
A Beast Without Equal
This Kitten Has Claws
It had been three days since they had captured the runaway princess. During that time, Madara and his team had come to an unsurprising conclusion: the girl was undoubtedly abnormal.
They had somewhat expected the princess to befit her station: having a personality spoilt rotten from all of her royal privileges and a temper unchecked by her elders. However, they founds themselves proven wrong when the princess didn't utter a protest at having to walk the journey all on her own feet; even when her feet were rubbed raw from the act. Even when water was sparse and food was dwindling, she never asked for more than her share, happy to go to bed with a half empty stomach. At night, when they had all settled down for a rest, she watched them silently, taking in their conversations with diligent ears and unwavering eyes.
However, it was Madara, who had persevered with befriending the strange girl (even though it was obvious by the amused expression on her face that she knew exactly what he was doing), who had gotten the best impression of the captured princess. He had found out quickly that she did not act her age, which according to Eito was a mere eight years (Madara had trouble believing it), and that in itself wasn't unusual: children, especially females, could display maturity beyond their years in the right circumstances.
What was unusual was that she she acted and behaved like an adult; without the naivety of a child but with all the cunning and manipulative skills of a person who had played other people for years. Personal information would be extracted from them by a guise of childish teasing, where she poked and prodded until the person nearly snapped. Using this technique she would feel a person out, know what made them tick, their wants, likes and dislikes etc. Madara only realised what she was doing when she sent Daisuke reeling on their second night together.
"I would expect such surroundings to be unworthy to a posh girlie like you." The teenager had mocked, a wicked grin on his face as his eyes locked on the princess. He had moved onto the young girl once it had become apparent all that Madara was going to do when teased was ignore him. He seemed to have pegged the girl as being weak and unused to harsh teasing; being a princess would have afforded her such luxuries.
"You seem to have an obsession with people born into a higher station than yourself." She replied, eyes closed as she dozed against a tree. "Do you perhaps have a poor upbringing?"
He reeled back, the conversation taking a turn in a direction he wasn't comfortable with. "I don't know what that's got to do with anything."
"Are you bitter about your roots? Where every day was a fight for something better?"
There was a second of silence as the teenager processed the question; his eyes narrowed, his hands clenching into fists as he struggled with a rush of emotion."Watch your tongue princess-"
"Don't worry I would be too. I mean who would want to be born a peasant? No money and no food; not to mention the illnesses-"
Daisuke had cocked his hand back ready to slap the impertinent child when Eito grabbed his hand at the possible last moment, the appendage mere millimetres away from the princess's face. The girl didn't even flinch, although she had open her eyes to regard the angry teenager with a surreal calmness. Madara saw her eyes flash at the raging visage before her, he thought she was not so weak (at least emotionally) as Daisuke supposed her to be: more like a wolf dressed as a harmless lamb.
"That's out of order Daisuke." Eito scolded, eyes burning as he released the now limp hand. "To allow yourself to be angered so much by a mere child is unacceptable!"
The teenager accepted the scolding with frown, rubbing his wrist where Eito had gripped him. In that moment only Madara looked at the princess: he watched her as she smirked, her half lidded eyes watching the scene she had created.
"It's not very smart to antagonise someone who could kill you very easily." Madara found himself advising, the princess turned to look at him with the same amused expression on her face, feeling no shame at being caught out.
"Sorry." She was still smirking.
"Well, don't do it again."
"Okay, I won't."
There was a few seconds of silence. Madara would later realise that the break in conversation was the princess contemplating how to phrase her next question.
"Daisuke lost someone precious to him, didn't he?"
"...Not just one." He replied reluctantly.
"Not one? His friends then, family even." He stood speechless as the girl answered her own questions with frightening accuracy. "To an illness?" She looked towards him.
"It's not my story to tell." He deflected, becoming more and more uncomfortable as she locked those ghostly grey eyes on him.
She blinked, the action catching his attention. He noticed how her long, blonde eyelashes stood out against her pale skin. "Yes." The princess conceded, leaning back from her hunched position, where she had been encroaching on his personal space. Madara didn't even realise that she had moved. "Yes you are right. But so am I."
She said it with such confidence that Madara doubted his protests (although they would be false if he had uttered them because she was correct) could sway her.
Another example which came to his mind was when they were walking through dense forest, the sun strong and beating down on them through the gaps in the leaves. It had been their first proper day together and they had not been so wise to her unusual intelligence, and had answered with the same loose mouths they would answer any eight year old who had too many questions.
"Where are you taking me?" It was one of the first question had ever directed towards the team. Madara had been glad that she had initiated conversation so soon, and could see himself closer to completing the task his father had set him.
"To our clan compound." He had answered quickly (eagerly), from his place beside her.
"Clan?"
"Yes, our clan: the Uchiha. We are the best ninja clan in the Elemental Nations."
"Bar none? at all?"
"...Yes." He hesitated for just a second, but the princess latched onto it.
"So no one else can match you? No other has the ability to draw your or your clansmen's blood?" She turned to look at him, expression emotionless yet searching. "You have never lost a person important to you through the actions of another?"
Madara looked away from her face, and found himself, against his will, reliving the bitter, painful memories which had previously laid undisturbed from their residence deep within the recesses of his mind. He remembered one of his younger brothers, only a mere five years old, who had been staying with his grandmother in a holdout miles away from the Uchiha compound. He remembered vividly the image of his mother wailing, early in her pregnancy with Izuna at time, when she heard news of the building being overthrown by a squad of Senju warriors, and how her mother and son had been cornered and slaughtered like cattle. There was no warning and the Uchiha involved had been taken completely by surprise.
The boy found his vision wavering as he was hit with an onslaught of unshed tears: the last time he had seen his younger brother had been just before he had left with his grandmother, clutching a teddy bear in his chubby arms as he was carried off and out the gate; waving his hand sluggishly in farewell.
He blinked, and his vision returned. He turned back to look at the girl who had been soaking up his reaction while he relived that horrible moment.
"No." He lied; he owed her no explanation, it had nothing to do with the fact that he felt he couldn't talk about it without choking on his words.
"I don't believe you."
Madara didn't answer her, he only continued on ahead of her, walking at a pace he knew she wouldn't be able to keep up with. He reassured himself, as he left Eito to tend to the girl, that he wasn't running away from her prying questions and all-too-knowing eyes.
He didn't sleep at all that third night, unable to stop thinking about the princess and the way she played Daisuke and himself. The girl had angered and prodded them until they hissed and spat and broke; laying all their secrets bare, ripe and juicy for the amused little girl to pick with conniving fingers and raging appetite. He could see that hunger in her eyes, that unquenchable thirst for upset and tension. There was no awkwardness, no sense of guilt over what she had done: like a wolf feeling no remorse for its unlucky prey. Madara felt his stomach drop.
He turned in his bed to look at the girl, who was sleeping in a cot adjacent to his own, and saw the way she curled around her pillow like a cat, titling her head so that the moonlight peeking through a small hole in the tent spilt onto her cheek. In a way it looked as though the moon had extended a hand to caress her cheek and see her softly to sleep. It looked motherly, nurturing even.
Madara shook his head before sharply turning onto his stomach, blocking out his surroundings: he really needed his sleep if his brain was spurning out poetic, fanciful mush.
The boy slept fine the night after that, although the moon's light (it was unusual see to the moon without the clouds obscuring it as often as he recently did) made it more difficult to slip into that dark, comforting abyss.
He took to staying away from her as much as he could after that, avoiding any interaction with the princess for fear that she might attempt to delve even deeper beneath his own exterior, breaking it irreparably in the process.
000
"Welcome to our compound." Tajima greeted coldly upon meeting the princess; the party had returned late in the evening and the fast approaching dusk set long, dark shadows across the halls of his office. The girl in question looked on at him, no fear or recognition flashed through her eyes, her shoulders were relaxed and back slouched in what could only described as an ill-bred manner. His eyes narrowed at the scene before turning his gaze towards the team he had sent to retrieve her: his son was tense and uncomfortable, the teenager had never looked at the princess once since arriving back and Eito, the eldest and most experienced, looked towards his leader with a tired expression, like he wanted nothing more than to go home and be rid of his younger brethren.
"Why am I here?" She asked directly, out of the corner of his eye he saw his son tense up further.
"You are here because I wanted you here." He wasn't in the routine of speaking to a child like they were an equal, and he wouldn't start now regardless of her station. The clan head saw steel flash through her grey gaze at his blatant disregard. She gave him a small smile, trying hard to hide her annoyance; but he wasn't the Clan Head by family succession alone.
"Then why do you want me here?"
"Because you are a political asset, one that may benefit me in the future."
"What makes you think that I have any meaningful importance?"
"You are the Fire Daimyo's Daughter-"
"-And not his only child." She cut the Clan Head off. "He has his son, his heir, at his side at all times when I've have always been kept far way and out of reach. What does that say of my importance in the grand scheme of things? What does that say of my father's regard for me?"
"Despite what you say you are still a princess by blood, and even if you are correct in your...assumptions... it would be poor conduct on behalf of your father to leave you to fall prey to the wolves lurking on the outskirts of his territory." He answered in more detail, straightening his back as he considered the princess more carefully than before. Her smile, as fake as it initially was, relaxed and widened into something more genuine. The girl's eyes flashed once more, this time in amusement as she tilted her head and reconsidered him as well. The head of the Uchiha clan tensed as he realised that she too was analysing him: it was an unnatural thing for a child so young to do. It was a trait akin to people who had seen the horrors of the world and humanity itself, becoming increasingly more distrusting of everyone and everything. "Besides, I would not make a habit out of downplaying your own importance; if I have no use for you I would have to dispose of you."
She seemed to have picked up on his harsh tone underneath the threatening words, something he usually took delight in hiding behind veiled works and blank expressions: his control was slipping. Her smile widened.
"I shall heed your advice, Uchiha-sama."
"Good." He replied gruffly, turning his attention back to the scrolls on his desk. "Madara." Out of the corner of his eye he saw his eldest son spring up to attention, always eager to please. "Lead her to one of the guest rooms, would you? I will sent guards there shortly to keep an eye on her."
The boy bowed before gently pushing the princess in the direction of the door, and before long they were out of sight.
"You are dismissed Daisuke." He ordered, noting how the teenager relaxed once the girl was out of the room. "I am sure your sister misses your company."
He too bowed, and exited the room with hurried steps. Eito was left standing in front of him, his expression even more grim than before.
Tajima sighed, hunching over his desk as he rubbed his eyes; he felt very tired at that particular moment. "Report."
Eito open his mouth, hesitating whilst he decided exactly what he was going to say. "Your son performed admirably, even when crossed by either Daisuke or the princess he displayed a maturity befitting of the clan heir. "
"Very well." He nodded, eyes stern and proud. "What of his fighting abilities?"
"They were not displayed Tajima-sama."
His eyes narrowed. "Why not?"
"Aside from stealth and tactical planning, nothing else was needed. The guards were normal palace guards and not Senju like we had feared. The girl had also escaped her tent on her own, we found her in the forest by herself."
"What do you mean?" He found it unlikely that an eight year old girl, untrained in the art of stealth, could leave a guarded tent unnoticed. "The guards were that easily fooled?"
"Yes and No. The guards were...incompetent by our standards; but the girl..."
"What about the girl?" Tajima encouraged the man.
"As you said in our debriefing, the Senju and Fire Daimyo are not imbeciles: they must have known that mere palace guards would not be enough to keep us away." He conceded after careful deliberation. "If they were seriously protecting her, they would have deployed Senju guards; and her chakra... its not normal."
"In what way?" He was curious to find out: Eito was one of the best sensors in the clan.
"Its shifting constantly, making it very corrosive to anything it touches." He answered, eyes closed as he tried to remember the feeling of the princess's chakra as he had called out to it. "I am surprised her body has not been damaged by its effects."
"So you are saying-" The Clan head spoke slowly, the implications were starting to give him a headache. "That there is something about the princess that we don't know? Something that the Fire Daimyo thinks is reason enough to essentially hand her over to us?"
"That she was intended to be caught by us? Then yes I think she was." He answered, looking over to the door both Madara and the princess had exited a few minutes prior. "She may even have been privy to the plan, given her lack of fear even when you threatened to kill her."
The Clan Head sighed again. "I think it best to keep an eye on her, I'll have Madara in her near vicinity for the next six months at least. In the mean time, you will strip through every book in the library, read through any scroll that may shed light on this abnormal chakra of hers: somewhere in the long history of ninja there must have been another like her."
Eito nodded his agreement. "Yes Tajima-sama."
When the leader of the mission eventually left the room, Tajima let his head fall into upturned hands. He sighed, rubbing his tired eyes as the day's events finally caught up to him. It was going to be an interesting few months, to say the least, but for now he was exhausted and needed his sleep. He looked outside his window at the night sky and watched as the last remaining tinges of orange dayligh was chased away by the fast approaching moon and it's army of dark, starless skies.
000
Sera took note of the room which she would be staying in for the duration of her stay. It was nothing special: blandly coloured and furnished with only the bare necessities. She wondered whether she would be restricted to this room, with nothing to do other than stare at the grey walls all day until she cracked from the boredom of it all.
It would do however. She wasn't fussed about its simplicity: she could conjure up her own entertainments. The girl smiled, turning to her guard/chaperone.
"What sort of bathing facilities do you have here?" She asked, watching as Madara spluttered and grew redder with every second that passed. Sera knew that it wasn'tnproper to ask a male about such a thing; but found that she didn't really care to wait until she happened upon a female, and she had not seen a single woman since she arrived at the compound. "I would kill for an onsen."
"Turn left once you exit this room and it is through the last door on your right." He answered once he managed to regather his wits. He turned around, grasping the handle of the door. She noted the way his fingers gripped the metal a little too strong: he was eager to leave her. "I shall leave you now and come back to escort you to breakfast in the morning."
"Very well; I will see you in the morning then." He nodded at her, his hand nearly ripping the door handle off in his haste to leave the room. She stifled a laugh as the door shut behind him.
Once he had gone the princess turned around and made her way over to the moderately sized window on the other side of the room. She gripped the ledges, peering closely to see if there was any evidence of the latches being movable. The girl's brow furrowed when she found none. She gave them an experimental tug, still the window did not move.
She frowned, there went a viable escape route.
"What next I wonder?" Sera spoke aloud, seemingly out of the blue and directed at no-one. The guards would not have hesitated to report this strange behaviour to their Clan Head if they had witnessed it, but the princess knew the guards would never hear nor see her when she was talking to this entity; they never had even when she was back at the palace. Their eyes would wonder past her and their ears would only catch the softest of breathes.
She moved her gaze to the bedside cabinet, the only placed where the moonlight seemed to reach in the dank little room, she peered at the window once more before walking towards the piece of furniture which had caught her attention. The cabinet was unassuming, having been built from cheap wood and worn down by age, it was easily overlooked in any ordinary situation . She opened the top drawer warily, intrigued but not surprised to see a wrapped up parchment lying inside the otherwise empty compartment. The princess untied the piece of string keeping the paper rolled up and let it unravel in her hands. Strange symbols written in a dark red liquid greeted her, to anyone else they would have made no sense: they did not belong to any written language anyone in the Elemental nations would know.
The princess grinned as her eyes scanned the paper, those people would be right in a sense: this language did not originate from the Elemental Nations.
Having finished reading the girl brought the parchment to her nose, sniffing the ink. She frowned, sniffing it again as if to confirm something.
"Blood?" She said, whether to herself or to something else was unknown. There was a period of silence, a moment of inner deliberation before she shrugged, ripping the parchment up into tiny shreds. She walked away from the drawers and back to the window, where she had a full view of the moon: a bright beacon against the dark night sky.
"I have so many questions." She started, staring at it, engaging with it as if it could understand her. "Nobody here notices the strangeness of the sky, I remember once years ago I asked one of my tutors 'Where are the stars? Why are there never any stars in the sky?'"
She took a break to swallow, which seemed to make her stomach grumble and contract in inner turmoil. Her eyes narrowed. "He answered that there have never been any stars for as long as there has been written history, that they are nothing more than a myth told to children frightened of the dark before they go to bed, and then he promptly asked where I had gotten such information. They had certainly never told me about them. But they are real, I used to see them every night back home, my real home, as real as the sun and the moon. But the moon here is different; at first I couldn't put my finger on just what it was, apart from those strange coincidences where the moonlight would change and catch my attention there were no other clues."
"I know now though." She continued, on a roll and unable to stop herself. "The moon from before was dead, a lifeless husk. Here it is alive. Not really a moon per say but something else all together."
She looked up at the thing disguised as a moon, bringing it a hand up to shield her eyes from its strong light. The princess clenched her fists, shaking from the thought of what could happen next. "What are you really?"
A voice cackled behind her, Sera flinched at the sound of its eerily feminine, foreboding tone. She turned around, only to be greeting with nothing.
000
When Madara came pick up the princess the next morning for breakfast he was surprised to find a very tired looking girl.
"Good morning." He managed to greet her as she rubbed her face, the skin under her eyes were dark and swollen with obvious exhaustion. "You don't look well."
She snorted. "That's not a nice thing to say a girl." She replied before retreating back into her room, leaving the door open so that she could still talk to Madara. "I didn't sleep very well I'm afraid."
The boy wanted her to elaborate further but before he could reply the princess was suddenly upon him. She quickly grabbed a cloak and, smiling, grabbed his arm. "Shall we go? I could eat a horse."
The boy let her hang onto his arm as he escorted them to the dining hall, his limb was held out awkwardly away from him. A pinched look graced his face. "Horses are expensive, why would you waste it by eating it? And how could a little girl like you eat an entire horse?"
The princess outright laughed, Madara was uncertain whether it was due to his reluctance to have anything to do with her or his reaction to her statement. "It's a figure of speech where I come from." She replied.
After a few more minutes of polite chatter they entered the dining hall. Madara and the princess were greeted with rows upon rows of feasting Uchiha soldiers seated at different long tables. Madara spotted his family dining at the top most table. The boy turned to face the princess, only to find her surveying the hall with an unwavering gaze. Her eyes held a calculating gleam as they soaked everything in like a dry sponge. He tugged on her arm, making her blink rapidly as she refocused his attention on him.
"Come with me, we are to sit with my family." He whispered, not wanting to draw the room's attention to them. He walked briskly over, making her resort to taking uneven, jerky strides to keep up with him. "Good morning Father."
The Clan Head withdrew from the conversation he was having with his wife to nod at his son before turning his attention to the princess, looking her up and down before he spoke. "We will need to get you some new clothes."
It was then that Madara realised the girl was wearing the same clothes as the day before, bar her outer robes which she must have found at the back of the wardrobe in her room. She nodded her agreement before he sat her down on an empty seat.
"You will also take to dining with us breakfast, lunch and dinner during your stay here." He added. "Your evenings will also be spent socialising in the hall."
His tone left no room for dispute or argument, the princess must have seen this too as she forced a "Yes, Uchiha-sama" from a stubborn mouth. Madara could see what his father was trying to do: forcing her to be out and about with company, not allowing he to be by herself for long and leaving her no choice but to form relationships with the Uchiha around her.
"Hey." He called, trying to get the princess's attention.
"What?"
"Why didn't you ask for more clothes last night?"
She shrugged. "It escaped my mind."
"My son's right, what would court say if they had heard you wore the same clothes two days in a row?"
Madara felt his cheeks flush red: his mother had taken it upon herself to interrupt their conversation and impart her own opinion.
But rather than being annoyed by the interruption as he expected, the princess smiled. She leaned in towards his mother, who was sitting opposite both Madara and the princess.
"I must confess to you that I although I have bathed since arriving here I have not had the chance to attain another pair of clothes. The robe I am wearing now is the same one I was wearing when I was taken over four days ago."
Madara's mother gasped. "Oh my! A great misdeed has been done to you. It would seem the men have no knowledge of how to treat a court lady."
"It's fine." The princess mollified, grinning all the while. "If I gave any weight to what the court thought about me, I would already be betrothed to a fat, old pig with hills of gold and jewels."
He found himself mortified as his mother started to laugh in an unladylike manner. "Oh dear, I think I shall grow to like you."
"My name is Sera, but I don't think I have been told your name."
"Well then Sera-hime." The way she said her name was much more affectionate compared what he and his father called her: a detached, impersonal 'princess'. "My name is Uchiha Mikoto."
The princess seemed surprised by this, she blinked and straightened up slightly. "Please to meet your acquaintance Uchiha-sama."
The Clan Matriarch smiled. "I have some kimonos and yukatas about your size that you can have, I had them ordered because someday I hope to bare a daughter. But I have so far had five sons." She looked down to slightly protruding stomach and placed a hand upon it. "I hope my next one is a girl."
"Then I hope so too Uchiha-sama." The princess added brightly, although her expression looked a little subdued.
Breakfast went on without much affair; the princess took to not saying much, looking around her as his mother, aunts, uncles and cousins chattered amongst themselves. Not feeling like talking, he took to observing her while food was served. She was surprisingly a picky eater when she had the choice, not like when they were travelling, when all they had to eat was what could be hunted. With a quick, dexterous hand she took to stripping the dishes of their meat while avoiding most of the vegetables and all of the seafood.
Soon breakfast had finished and the dishes had been reduced to mere dregs of sauce and crumbs. Madara got up, eager to resume the training that had been halted when he was in pursuit of the princess. He froze when his father stopped him with a hand to his shoulder as he whizzed past.
"Take the princess to the seamstress before you start training, so that the robes your mother so graciously gave her can altered to fit the girl properly." The Clan Head ordered.
The boy swallowed down an exasperated sigh before turning his gaze towards the girl in question, silently telling her to get up and come to him. She seemed to get the hint as she quickly rose from her seat and joined him.
There was no conversation instigated by the princess this time, her face had paled further and a tired frown weighed down her lips.
"Are you really okay?" He asked, concerned that she was falling ill.
She sighed. "Nothing a good night's sleep can't cure."
"I have a question for you." He started, thinking that in her current state she might be more willing to answer him. "When I first met you that night in the forest you said that you were waiting for someone; who were you waiting for?"
A moment of silenced passed before the princess broke out into a fit of laughter with a slightly deranged look in her eyes. "Your information gathering technique needs a little work."
"Are you going to answer me?"
"Nah. It spoils the fun of trying to figure it out yourself."
"Why did you want to meet up with them?"
She turned around to look at him, tilting her head before deciding to humour him a little. "I don't know."
He blinked. "You don't know?"
"Nope." The girl shook her head, popping the 'p'. "I only knew I had to meet up with them."
Madara's eyes narrowed as he considered her words; the rhythm in which they were delivered was broken, as if she had to stop and think carefully about the words she chose to speak. "You were told to met up with this someone weren't you?"
She gave no verbal response, and only a twitch of a smirk on an otherwise emotionless face gave her away.
His eyes narrowed further. Stopping dead in the corridor the boy took the princess by the shoulders, facing her towards him. He instinctively tightened his grip as he sensed himself nearing an answer. "Who was it that told you?"
The girl grinned, reminding Madara of that conniving little wench he first met under the cover of thick foilage, looking half wild with the moonlight dappled across her skin. He wondered how he could have forgotten what lay beneath her child-like exterior. She leaned in close to his ear, despite his arms holding her away from him, and whispered. "Not who your father will assume when you tell him about our little conversation, like the good, obedient, little dog you are." She leaned back to look him in the eyes once more. "It is perhaps understandable how you crave your father's affection and pride; he never paid any real attention to you before you started to advance your skills as a soldier. But here's a little piece of advice." She took his shoulders too and drew him in closer. "Your desire to be recognised by your father, to become the strongest warrior in your clan, will lead you to an enemy that you will not be able to overcome and when that day comes you will die for a dream which will never become reality."
If Madara could speak he would be screaming at the top of his lungs for her to stop talking, to cease uttering aloud what he had only admitted to himself subconsciously.
"Your father will never love you as a son." The princess watched as his face fell. "Just like he will never love your younger brothers. He will only ever love you as a tool to used, and when you are of no use anymore you will be discarded, thrown away to rot and be replaced by one of your brothers and then the whole cycle will start again."
He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood in order to stop a tormented moan passing through his mouth. Madara begged to the gods that what the princess had said was in no way true, that she was spouting lies in retaliation to his hard handed questioning. However, a part of him knew what she said was true. He started to remember the tentative days after his younger brother's death, of his wailing mother and his own tear stained face. He remembered the reaction of his father once the news broke, a memory he had repressed for (in hindsight) a good reason, he was vision of cold indifference to his son's death; having only a mere second's hesitation before he dipped his brush into his ink pot and carried on with his letters.
His grip on her shoulders loosened, allowing the princess to tear herself away from him.
"The seamstress is through that door." He pointed, shaking. "I assume you are capable of achieving that feat by yourself." An unstoppable anger coursed through him, surprisingly directed not at the princess but at his father. He turned and treaded angrily away from the girl, intent on exhausting his anger through a good, long training session.
"And you are wrong!" The boy halted before turning around and declaring to the princess, not being able to stop himself. "Whatever my father sends my way, regardless of what I am to him, I will overcome. No matter how strong my enemies are I will always defeat them!"
The girl laughed at his claim, but it sounded lifeless to his ears. "How arrogant." She stated, studying him properly for the first time since she had first met him. "But the enemy you assert you can defeat is maybe closer to home than you think."
"Was that a threat?" He asked, tone low and ominous.
"No, only a warning." She answered grinning. "A bit different from a threat as you already know, it's not as aggressive or physical."
"And what am I suppose to do with this...warning?"
She shrugged, it was an action that was soon going to infuriate him the more she did it. "Do what you want. You can treat my warning with whatever alarm you think it deserves: treat it as ruse to worry your family or start to panic and wail about the end of the Uchiha Clan at the hands of an undefeatable enemy, I do not care."
Madara turned back around and continued walking away, but as the boy neared the end of the hall he could have sworn he heard the princess cackle; but he wouldn't risk confirming it. If she was he wouldn't put it passed him to hit out at her in a rage.
000
Hey there again, just wanted to say a big thank you to all those who read, reviewed, favourited and followed this story. It means a lot.