Word: Fireflies (or Stars)
No matter what night she see’s them, or who she’s with when they begin sparkling in the sky overhead, they’re always so beautiful.
She can’t think of anything more beautiful in the whole world.
“Me,” Madara responds to her unspoken observation, a smug smile on his face when she glares at him. “I’m more beautiful than anything in this entire world.”
“More full of yourself, maybe,” She huffed. “Beautiful, hardly. Even Tobirama is more beautiful than you.”
Just Tobirama’s personality makes him one of the least beautiful people she knows.
But seeing the way Madara’s eyes narrow, and the slight twitch of his lips, is worth every letter of that lie.
“Anyways,” turning away from him she stared back up at the night sky. Every star was brighter than the last. “Even your long luscious hair can’t compare to the stars. Not a chance.”
“But it is long and luscious. You said so yourself.”
“Meh,” she could feel his glare burning into her, but she paid it no attention. After all, it wasn’t the first time he’d glared at her like that and it wasn’t going to be the last time.
“What do you think they are?”
“The souls of every shinobi that had died in battle,” her eyes flickered over to him, one eyebrow arching upward when he reaponded with a shrug. “That’s what I was taught growing up. What else would they be?”
“Shinobi who died in battle arn’t something beautiful?”
“Death isn’t beautiful,” she sighed. Tilting her head back she closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of the light breeze against her skin. “I think they’re something wonderful. They have to be.”
“Like what?” This time there was genuine curiosity in his voice.
“Like… i don’t know,” she waved off his question with a grunt. “Never mind.”
“No, really,” turning onto his side, he stared up at her with a tender smile. A rare sight.
She wouldn’t admit it aloud, but that smile might be the only thing she’s ever seen that was as beautiful as the stars.
“Hope,” she answered, knowing how stupid her answer sounded even before Madara threw his back and laughed. “Maybe they hold pieces of the future. A better future, where we don’t have to fight and die.”
“There’s a better future than fighting?”
“For those of us who arn’t stronger than everyone else except Hashirama? Yes.”
“Oh come on,” scorn slipped into his tone. “hashirama and I might be able to best you, but there’s not another shinobi alive that could break past your defences.”
“Uchiha Madara saying something nice about someone else?” She smirked at the thought. “Have i already died and gone to heaven.”
“You’re not dead, Horaru,” he sighed. “If you died i’d…”
His sentence fell off, but she didn’t need to hear the rest. She knew what would happen, and she prayed the world would survive the rampage Madara would set upon it.
“You’re a dork,” she sighed, a smile tugging at her lips.
“You are the only person alive who would dare to say that.”
“Is that why you hang out with me?”
“No,” he chuckled. “I hang out with you because it’s nice to have a bit of a challenge from someone other than Hashirama.”
“A bit,” her spirit was wounded at the suggestion. “Just a bit?
“More then others,” he agreed. “Now look at the stars, Hortaru. We’ll fight in the morning so i can put you in your place again.”
Ignoring her wounded ego, she turned her gaze back to the sky above. The stars were truly beautiful, and not even Madara’s ego could ruin the sight for her.
