Naruto (c) Masashi Kishimoto

Note: I wrote this a long time ago, while I was still on Corry Station.

He could smell it in the air. The scent of spring, of snow giving way to the sun's warm rays, and the subtle sweet scent of blossoming sakura trees. Yet, it was also a beautiful prelude to the coming wars that would resume in a few weeks or months. Though he couldn't let that get him down.

Madara sat up in bed, rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked towards the garden, the door to the veranda open, the spring breeze bringing in the fresh scent. Glancing down, he looked at the empty side of his bed. Where did she go now? He wondered, with annoyance. He swore that woman would be the death of him one day... Maybe.

A soft twang filled the air, followed by another and then another, until they were strung together with a melody, then a harmony. Soft humming accompanied the twang of the instrument and Madara couldn't help but find himself getting lost in the warmth of the song. Standing, he walked towards the window to see his wife outside.

Yuzuki was sitting beneath the blooming sakura tree, the breeze scattering the white-pink petals of the cherry blossoms around her, almost like a spring snowfall. She wore a rather lovely kimono, a white one with a pale pink obi, and an obi-jime the color of blood. The pattern was simple cherry trees in bloom. It was a rather stunning spring kimono, and he noted the blanket which she sat upon, not to ruin such a fine garment.

But what caught him slightly of guard was the koto that was across her lap, and how her delicate fingers plucked the strings and her soft humming filled the air. It was soothing, and he couldn't help but admire the sight of her. The porcelain color of her skin, how her thick dark lashes kissed her cheeks. Her lips where just a hint of pink and a comely blush seemed to paint itself across her cheeks. It was one of those rare moments when Yuzuki had her hair down, her ink colored locks cascading down her back, contrasting with the colors of her kimono.

The sight before him was simply intoxicating. Yet it also looked so fragile at the same time. Madara walked to the veranda and sat down, and a bit glad he chosen to put a robe on before exiting his room, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to get lost in the subtle notes of Yuzuki's music.

He didn't know how long time passed, but he jerked into wakefulness, when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her, and their eyes locked.


And that's all folks!


Sanguinary Toxicity