Aiko WAP 30 preview

They were unable to immediately depart. The Uchiha were ready to depart, but the Senju were struggling to get organized for travel. Normally he might take that opportunity to be smug about the superior discipline of the Uchiha. At the moment, one-upping Hashirama was far from Madara’s mind. The other clan head was too busy to notice any posturing regardless.

In the chaos, Madara leaned over to let his mouth hang near his brother’s ear. Sotto voice, he said, “You met a literal goddess in the rice farming village.” Somehow, he kept the outrage at his idiot brother’s audacity out of his tone.

Izuna nodded. He was utterly unbothered. The only thing going on in his terrible little birdbrain was petty amusement at how Senju Tobirama was trying to remove the holy woman’s blood from his face, eyeing her nervously all the while. She seemed to be enjoying his fear as well.

Madara valiantly resisted the urge to put his hands on his brother’s shoulders and shake him. They were in front of company and must maintain a united front. His next words came out as a hiss. “And you did not think to mention it?”

“I think I said something,” Izuna protested. He turned his head just enough that Madara could see him roll his eyes. “You wouldn’t have believed me without meeting her regardless.” He paused, expression turning troublesome as his horrible mouth turned up into a smile. “Ah, Madara?”

He felt dread.

“Aren’t you glad you accepted her hospitality?” Izuna’s murmur was full of mischief. “I think the Senju really annoyed her. She won’t forgive Tobirama for rejecting her tea,” he said, singsong.

…Faintly, Madara realized that cursing a human for a social misstep was exactly the kind of thing that a god might do. He looked back at her where she stood, a cold little statue watching the Senju rescue their people from the ground with faint amusement in the curl of her lips. Her only tell was her facial expression. She didn’t stand as if she was in any pain or betray impatience by shifting. Her mannerisms were eerily precise.

‘I did not wholly reject her hospitality. But I spat out some of that tea.’ Madara licked his lips. The taste on them was regret, most likely.

But she had seemed pleased with him later. She had released all of the Uchiha from her earthen trap with ease and an insincere apology to the Senju, who she had left in their vertical graves. Perhaps he had made up for his offense by fetching her arm.

Her arm. The arm that had been cut off mid-fight and simply placed back on the bone to reattach itself. He marveled at that again. It was absurd and inhuman. Her bright eyes and wild laughter as she threw herself at Senju Tobirama despite the injury…

He repressed a delighted shudder. She was so foreign and frightening and fantastic. Even the way that she spoke was other. He had met people from the furthest reaches of the continent and from islands, but he had never heard someone who spoke as she did. He was hearing the accent of heaven.

‘…She is a vengeful type of goddess,’ Madara decided. He noted it, respectfully. He certainly did not cast any judgment, even in the privacy of his own mind. ‘It would be extremely unwise to further provoke her. But she spent weeks with Izuna, and did not maim him. Her patience must be saintly.’

He had to rethink everything. The world was different now. There was a literal goddess walking the earth and murdering politicians. How were the Uchiha going to react to the revelation of a divine messenger in the elemental countries? Could they use this to infiltrate the new government? Could they adjust their tax rate if they reacted with agility?