*English
*Japanese

MOMENTS IN BETWEEN

BONUS CHAPTER

そんなバカ女の子 :: That Stupid Girl

!TRIGGER WARNING! (For those effected by loss, particularly that of children)

Something was wrong.

Madara wasn't sure what, but for the past day-and-a-half, that girl hadn't smiled or laughed once.

It all started with her phone—one of many technologically advanced devices that had mystified Madara in the beginning. Rika had been telling him about the beginnings of her attempts to learn his language and singing an admittedly ridiculous children's song she'd learned about stealing an oni's fundoshi when the call came. He had watched as, almost immediately after accepting the call, the vague smile on her face abruptly melted away, her previous mirth destroyed and replaced with one of the most grave, serious expressions he'd ever seen on her. Before that moment, he hadn't thought her youthful face capable of such adult-like severity.

It was like seeing a mindless animal stand up on two legs and politely greet him good morning.

The one-sided conversation that followed was completely incomprehensible to him, of course.

Though he'd picked up a few words here and there from Rika—curse words, mostly, and rudimentary affirmatives and negatives—nothing could've prepared him for the rapid-fire exchange that took place over her mobile device. Not for the first time, a feeling of helpless frustration nearly had him enraged. He just had to end up in a place where no one spoke his language except the frail, wisp of a girl in front of him—and just barely, for her part. There were still moments where what he said to her ended up lost in translation and he'd have to humble himself enough to resort to pantomiming and vice versa. It couldn't go on, he privately acknowledged to himself as he watched the girl on the other side of the table growing more and more panicked for reasons he was incapable of understanding.

When the call ended, Rika's lightly tanned skin had taken on a notably pale, bloodless look, her stature hunched in on herself as if she could crumble at any moment. But it was her eyes that disturbed him the most. He knew them because they resembled the eyes of many he had seen in the aftermath of a battle—dull and numb with shock and loss. He knew because those eyes had been his eyes more than once. Especially when it involved—

"My younger brother will be coming to live here for a while," she finally spoke, interrupting his troubled thoughts in a strangely hoarse, subdued voice.

He stared at her, waiting for more of an explanation. And she opened her mouth to speak—likely to do just that—but strangely, all that she managed was an unintelligible noise that sounded eerily like a sob. Her hand flew to cover the lower half of her face in shock, as if she'd just uttered an unintended obscenity. Refusing to look at him, she quickly apologized in a shaky voice, rising abruptly, and padding over to pick up the calico cat she claimed to hate. She then walked down the hall and locked them both in her bedroom.

She didn't even come out for their nightly ritual of watching television while she would discretely attempt to throw 'popcorn' in his hair. He'd surprised her once by catching one in his mouth, instead of just dodging, which had shocked her into endless laughter. He then proceeded to dump the entire contents of the bowl down her shirt. It was one of his better memories in this strange, surprising world—her dimpled face, flushed with breathless laughter, and ingrained within his recollections. His sharingan had the same function as her camera, for better or worse, and it became something like second nature to record anything he found remotely noteworthy. Even something so seemingly insignificant as a silly, ridiculous girl choking on popcorn…

He knew he shouldn't be so concerned, nor involved in any of this on a personal level. This was a temporary situation, after all. He couldn't afford to forget that, or become emotionally invested in this place—no matter how tempting the thought was. For a while, he'd briefly entertained the possibility of giving up on a way back to his world. Suddenly, all the things that made his life a living hell no longer existed or mattered. There was no longer a debate over his authority as the Uchiha clan head, nor a question of who would become the leader of the fledgling Leaf Village. What's more, war on any scale that he was familiar with hadn't touched this land in over seventy years if the girl was to be believed. Here, with no expectations of him, no demands to meet, he could just…exist, without having to fight for every moment.

But he had learned this world had a whole slew of problems of its own that he would soon feel compelled to do something about… Human nature does not change, after all, no matter what world you happen to be standing in. And unlike in his world, he had no inkling of his place in this one. He had no foundation to build upon, and no real education in the so-called 'rules' that governed this society's warfare. And according to Rika, if those rules were broken, serious consequences followed…

In short, there were too many unknowns, and he'd scarified too much and gotten so far in his own world to give up everything.

"I not let you give up and be sad anymore."

Ironically, it was Rika who reminded him of this…

"You master kamui—you go home. Simple, ne?"

Who gave him a solution…

"I know you can do it."

And unwavering support…

It was curious…this silly girl's kindness of taking in a complete stranger. He would've called her stupid and naïve and did, in fact, several times. To her face.

She was all too trusting, too fearless. He almost admired it. Because in the next moment, she was all too aware of the world's terrors. It was a strange contradiction that he blamed her television and internet for. These devices allowed one to see but not truly experience things. So while she knew, she did not know. While she could see, she could not see. It was a fascinating mingling of jadedness and naïveté that made his insides squirm and his eyes grow dark every time he witnessed it. What's more, her world's depiction of his world made her act overly friendly towards him in a way that needed to end…

But for the life of him, he couldn't bring himself to kill her feelings.

At the core of things, Rika was a lonely, innocent, idealistic girl who was too kind for her own good. In some ways, she reminded him of Hashirama, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. It certainly did not help his judgement, either way. In the end, he reasoned, what purpose would it serve to bring her unnecessary pain?

Perhaps it was these notions that had him feeling so disturbed by the pitiful sounds coming from her bedroom. Though it was quiet, he could hardly hear himself think. Something had happened, the likes of which his limited understanding of her language did not allow him to understand. And he didn't want to. It was none of his business. But the curse of empathy had not given him up completely—especially when it came to that stupid girl, or so it seemed. This retreat wasn't natural for someone like her. And when another pathetic sniffle reached him from down the hall, he stood with the full intention of doing something about it.

He marched down the hall until he was directly in front of her door, raising his fist to pound on it obnoxiously, but paused when he noticed it was already open a crack. Unable to pass up a chance of reconnaissance over a dynamic entry, he relaxed his fist and cautiously pushed the door open inch-by-inch with a single digit. Though the house was old, he had been pleased to note that the hinges were well oiled. And since he had already memorized all the various creaks and groans in the wood floor, he could come and go with ease, none being the wiser of it, as per his preference.

Rika was sitting on her bed with the cat, Momo, and a book of some sort spread across her crossed legs. She was dressed in her sleep clothes, consisting of a pair of shorts and an oversized T-shirt she'd enthusiastically boasted about getting from a musical concert. Her hair hung over her shoulder in a curtain, obscuring her face from his view, but by the way her frame was shaking, he could tell she was crying again. The urge to shut the door and walk away was stifling, but there was no chance on earth that the mighty Madara Uchiha was going to call for retreat because of a stupid crying girl.

That would just be humiliating.

And then the cat was giving him a defeated 'please-save-me-from-this-disgusting-snot-monster' look. He may be many things, but he was not one to inflict cruelty on defenseless animals.

"What's wrong with you?" He cut across her sobbing bluntly, crossing his arms and leaning on her doorframe.

Her reaction to his presence was, once again, overly exaggerated, he thought. The book she was holding flew several feet in the air and landed at his feet, while the girl herself promptly fell off the bed with an audible thump in a tangle of blankets. The cat took the chance to escape, and raced out of the room, flicking his leg with her tail affectionately as thanks. And as Rika groaned from her unexpected communion with the floor, Madara knelt inquisitively to retrieve the booklet from where it had fallen. Flipping through it cursorily, he noted it was full of pictures—headshots and group photos—of mostly children…

"I'm okay," the girl muttered, climbing back up on the bed and retrieving her quilt, softly cracking her neck with a wince. "Can you please not—" She paused abruptly when she noticed the firm look he was giving her, and then the book of children's pictures in his hands. A panicked look overcame her features, and waving her hands animatedly, she protested, "Oh my god, no—this is not what it look like, you pervert—"

"I'm the pervert?" he jumped at the chance of an argument. Arguing was something normal with her, at least, as ridiculous an argument as it was. He'd put up with it as long as she wasn't crying. As it was, he noticed the tear tracks on her face and her swollen eyes. Clearly, there was nothing perverted going on in this room unless Rika had some strange masochistic/pedophilic kinks he was unaware of. He didn't think she was the type, but he could capitalize off the misunderstanding. Tossing the book back at her flippantly, he demanded, "Explain this then."

"It's my brother's yearbook!" she blurted reproachfully, hugging it to her chest in a defensive stance. At his arched brow, she elaborated, "All the kids get picture taken on 'picture day' and they sent back to the families, so they have memory of all them happy together. Kids keep them for when they grow up. So they remember their friends…" Suddenly her eyes were welling up again with horrified tears, and the picture book dropped from her hands so she could cradle her face in them. Once again, her body was shaking with sobs, and her breaths were coming in quick, short hiccups—a prelude to hyperventilation. "Oh god…oh god…I can't…"

Unacceptable.

He quickly crossed the room and grasped her shoulders, giving her a little shake to jar her out of hysteria.

"Rika," he said her name firmly—the first time he remembered doing so—and resolutely held eye contact with her. When her odd green eyes refocused on him, he enunciated plainly, "Enough of this nonsense. Find the problem and fix it."

A helpless sort of pain crumpled her expression, and she shook her head hopelessly.

"Nothing can fix this…" she said with absolute surety. Slowly, with trembling fingers, she reached for the booklet and flipped it open. Leafing through the pages almost feverishly, she directed, "Look. Look at them, Madara. All of them. All of them…" She hunched forward, her forehead resting against his shoulder as she shook. "All dead…" came her whisper.

And suddenly, it all became clear.

Something was wrong.

Something had gone terribly wrong.

All these smiling faces…little bundles of potential that would one day go on to contribute to the world.

They no longer existed.

Their dreams all disappeared.

And the only sound left behind was that of this stupid girl's pain.

This stupid, naïve, innocent, kindhearted girl.

"Can…can you even imagine?" he heard her whisper, the words trembling out. "The parent's feelings? The older siblings?"

'No,' he wanted to say, feeling nauseous. 'I don't have to imagine anything.'

"Kai…" her fingers traced the image of a little blue-eyed boy with curly blond hair. "So easy…so easy, could've been one of them—" her voice slipped, and she bit her lip so hard Madara could smell blood. She looked at him then, a crippling guilt filling her eyes as she asked, "Is…is it wrong to feel happy that…all his friends are dead?"

The words 'instead of him,' went unsaid.

Madara said nothing, because there were no words for this type of tragedy. No assurances that things would get better. No right or wrong ways to feel. There was only grief. And grief, it was true, could make one stronger. But this time, somehow…it wasn't about that.

This time, it was about a stupid girl.

Slowly, he reached out a hand and stroked down stray locks of brown hair, made golden by the glare of her lamp. And, softly, as her puffy eyes met his face in a chaotic sort of confusion, he mused, "This world is not so different."

Confusion then gave way to understanding, and she reached up to grasp his much larger, callused hand in her own soft little one.

"No," she agreed hoarsely, sadly, "not so different at all…"

So, last chapter was short, and I thought I'd make up for it with a bonus.

Not sure if this counts as 'bonus' material though. Usually when you think 'bonus chapter' it's all about fluff and cute stuff... Yeah, not so much this time. Then again, it's from Madara's POV, so what the hell were you expecting? Because seriously, the guy is DARK... Anyway, more bonus/Madara POV chapters will most likely happen, and when they do, the chapter titles will be in Japanese with a translation next to it. I'm not fantastic at it, but I did take a couple of summers of lessons here and there, and thought it would be a good idea, since I'm writing a story with a language barrier and everything.

Anyway, for those who are worried, the next chapter will be in Rika's POV again, and much less dark!

For those with family involved in any school shootings, you have my deepest sympathies, and I hope none of you take offense to this chapter.

GUEST REVIEWS

To Crazy Hot Uchiha: Don't worry! I'm way ahead of you! I also read that story by Heart of PureSilver and I DID NOT LIKE IT :(((( At. All. I couldn't even get passed the first couple of chapters. (Heart of PureSilver, if you're reading this by any chance, I'm SO SORRY, but your story really needs some work). I think it might have actually been that story which prompted this one. Every time I read a bad story with a potentially good premise, I think of all the ways it could be better, and it spawns a lot of plot bunnies... So yeah, you may have been onto something there. That said, I have absolutely NO INTENTIONS OF PLAGIARISM. This story is actually based a lot off of my own life, though Rika is NOT AN SI. The events and characters (LOOSELY) based off of myself and my family are HIGHLY DRAMATIZED to make for a good story. And my hope is that because everyone is different, it will also make for a UNIQUE story. So thank you for reading, and I hope you continue to enjoy it! Log in and drop me a PM if you want to discuss Madara taking on the Man. :) Or Godzilla. Because Madara vs Godzilla sounds fucking awesome. Also, Madara vs an army of Senju armed with weed-whackers on a mission to give him a haircut...

To Guest: I'M SO GLAD THIS IS YOUR FAVORITE NARUTO FANFICTION OMIGODSQEEE~~~~ Ahem, sorry. Had to get that out of my system. But seriously, THANK YOU! I hope Madara's gloomy-ass viewpoint didn't do anything to deter your interest, and that it will remain your favorite! (Please just ignore the depressing ninja warlord in the corner).