Displaced in Time

Chapter 16

Hey *chuckles nervously* I'm back lmao

Sorry for not writing much these past weeks, I was pretty busy unfortunately but then again the weekends are the perfect time to procrastinate daily duties, right? 

Anyway, apologies for the short update as well; this past week I decided to rewatch Mo Dao Zu Shi along with rereading the novel and manhwa because it is PEAK FICTION- (0 regrets and that was 100 percent a recommendation)

BUT- I hope you enjoy this update, as brief as it may be! Also, I hope all of your weeks have been good as well, I know many of you did recently start-up school and hopefully, it isn't to stressful lol

~Madara POV~

Madara turned away from Tobirama, his cheeks burning. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants as he sighed shakily.

What the hell am I blushing for? I didn't do anything embarrassing!

Clutching his hands into a fist, he breathed in the crisp night air.

Madara clicked his tongue, scrunching his nose as he quietly crept through the woods, the breeze rustling the trees that had begun to brown as the weather grew colder.

Recovering from his muddled thoughts, Madara turned his head to the wind making haste to the compound. The man thought back to the meeting, nodding his head with content. The two of them cleared up many necessary subjects, and hearing Tobirama's input would benefit him in the long run. After all, despite being in Madara's body, the other man still retained his vast knowledge of seals and science.

Madara tipped his head slightly, remembering Tobirama's previous words. "I believe Zetsu has been following you since your childhood."

Putting on a solid facade at the time, Madara only reacted slightly, or at least what he deemed to be a mild reaction, though it was clear Tobirama saw right through his act. After all, how could you act as if everything was fine after knowing you were groomed to be a pawn your whole life?

Those words shook him to his core, but rather he was angrier than shaken. The burning rage he had been suppressing under the layers of guilt and grief he had carried was slowly unfurling itself, bitter emotion strung through his chakra.

Slowing his breathing in an attempt to calm himself, Madara slowed his pace, leisurely weaving in between the trees, the moon still high in the midnight sky, stars unveiled.

The chakra signatures in the Senju compound became lucid. Madara silenced his slightly winded breathing, feeling the individual emotions of each person swimming within their unique chakra signatures.

I'm close.

Feeling the calm and serene chakra waves enter Madara's senses calmed him subliminally, knowing that the chaos was not yet upon them. Quietly placing his palm on the roof tiles of the compound walls, he pushed himself above with ease, propelling himself over the wall as he landed softly on the cobble path beneath him.

Suppressing his chakra, Madara slunk into the shadows cast from the buildings as he tried quietly back to his office, deciding to stay awake for the duration of the night. After all, with so many thoughts and theories running through his mind, sleep was a luxury he would be unable to afford.

Sliding his shoes off in front of the door, Madara slipped inside, lighting the oil lamp as he shut the door, an orange glow enveloping the room. He threw off his bag, sliding his hand inside as he grabbed ahold of the seals.

Grabbing a brush, Madara dipped the tip in ink, adding intricate lines to the already existing seals adorned on the paper, taking careful considerations of Tobirama's prudent suggestions.

Hours seemed to fly by within mere seconds, but Madara couldn't tell it was morning until his eyes peeled away from the papers towards the sound of the door sliding open. His white hair was a mess, tangled as it fell in front of his eyes.

"Tobira?" A voice called carefully, stepping into the room with a creak.

Madara squinted his eyes as light flowed into the dim room. He pressed his ink-stained hand to his forehead, pushing up his hair to see the figure.

Hashirama stood in front of the desk, eyebrows pressed, concern set eyes. "Tobira, you just got ink all over your head-" Hashirama paused, his eyes glazing over the cluttered desk. Papers were scattered along the ground, several brushes rolling onto the floor, the wood of the desk covered in spilled ink. "What the hell?"

Madara looked up at the older man, eyes still hazy. However, a glimmer of persistence crept onto his eyes. "You cannot stop the flow of my genius, Anija."

Hashirama's forehead creased as he raised his eyebrows. Then, leaning over, Hashirama swept his thumb over Madara's forehead, wiping off the ink splatter. "Tobirama, your sleep-deprived, and take no offense, but you're incredibly disgusting at the moment."

Madara gawked in surprise, flinging the ink brush he held tightly in his hand at Hashirama's face. Hashirama narrowly dodged the incoming meeting, clutching the handle in his palm.

Madara let out a slight huff of disappointment, wanting to see the ink hit Hashirama's face. It had been such a good aim too! Such a waste...

"Well, Anija," Madara spoke, slowly standing up from the chair as he made his way over to Hashirama. "I am in the middle of some important work." Madara wiped his ink-stained hands on his clothes before pushing Hashirama out. "I refuse to forget these ideas without jotting them down; else, this allnighter would be worth nothing."

Hashirama squeaked as he was shoved behind the door. Madara nearly slid the door closed in the man's face before his hand stuck in, pushing the frame back. "Tobi, don't tell me you forgot what day it was..."

Madara lifted his eyebrow in confusion, tapping his foot impatiently. "What day?"

Hashirama's eyes fell slightly, a tired expression crossing his face. "Mito Uzumaki and a few of her attendants will be arriving at the compound in 5 hours, brother."

Madara's eyes widened in shock. "Fuck," He breathed out, pushing past Hashirama as he made a break towards the head family's quarters.

"Tobirama, what are you doing now?" Hashirama called after him, still stood in front of his office.

"I look like death!" Madara called back, refusing to elaborate further.

"Damnit, how could I forget this? I planned it out for Kami's sake!" Madara hissed out, stomping his feet on the floor as he quickened his steps towards the bathing area.

Flinging the door open, Madara pulled off his ink and sweat-stained clothing, tossing them aside as he lowered himself into the warm water. Relief hit his aching muscles as he slowly unwinded. Sinking below the water, Madara scrubbed off the dried ink on his pale skin, nails leaving red marks across the surface.

Pulling himself out of the water with deep regret but finally clean, Madara pulled a loose robe over himself as he walked towards the mirror. Bags were cast under his red eyes, a telltale of exhaustion. The midnight oil had long since depleted, and his fatigue was slowly creeping up.

Rubbing his eyes, Madara pressed his hands onto the crown of his head, detangling the white locks of hair. Madara opened his mouth, letting out a wide yawn before clamping it shut.

Madara groaned as he peered at the streak of black hair, evident within the stark white mass of hair... "Damn, I thought I got all of this damn ink out."

Wetting his hand, Madara pressed his palm into his hair, scrubbing harshly and impatiently to alleviate the color, but to no avail. Letting out an indignant grumble, Madara brought his hands up, grabbing at the stubborn strand. Fingers smoothed against the unnaturally silky piece of hair, the texture so unlike the rest. It reminded him much of his-

Madara's eyes widened in surprise before coming to a baffling conclusion. He was correct; there was no more ink in his hair. Instead, this was, in fact, his hair, resting unnaturally within the colorless hair belonging to that of Tobirama Senju.