Hollowed Martyr - Naruto X RWBY

Give Me Purpose For My Smoldering Heart

It had been a month since Madara's arrival into this new world, Remnant, he learned it was called. He had been able to find a job at a small dust shop called 'Dust till Dawn'. He had done it because he had nothing else better to do, and he did need a way to get steady income.

The owner was a nice old man, who had taken pity on Madara's expertly crafted tale of woe. Madara had explained to him that he was an orphan, whose small village had been run over by Grimm a few months prior, and that he had traveled to Vale in order to start a new life for himself. He had even shown Madara around the city, and even brought home-cooked meals for the young boy. It had baffled Madara how the people here could be so welcoming and charitable, but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

It was just another day for the old shinobi, stocking the shelves of the shop with vials of dust. He had purchased a bit of each with his first paycheck, eager to experiment with this new material. It of course lacked the raw power of his ninjutsu, but it had some unique abilities that he lacked, such as Ice and Gravity.

'The Ghost of the Uchiha reduced to nothing more than a shelf-stocker. I bet you're rolling in your grave, Izuna.' Madara's eyes burned at the thought.

They always burned.

Madara knew that he wasn't content with the life he currently lived, but he angrily ignored the yearning in his heart for more. He was a man of action, and his current repetitive and monotonous lifestyle was the exact opposite of what he had used to strive for. But still, he had resolved himself to not interfere with the natural course of this world.

So he silently kept stocking the shelves, hands falling into a monotonous rhythm. He kept working for a few hours, sweeping the floors, dusting the shelves, and assisting customers. All while not taking a single break. He found that distracting himself with simple tasks served to keep his mind off of the past.

It was during the last hour of Madara's shift, the broken moon already climbing into the sky. He had to stifle a chuckle at the sight of it, lest he be called mad. Madara idly heard the door chime, a customer walking in and going over to the opposite section of the store. But other than that one noise, it was peaceful.

Of course, it wouldn't last.

The doors to the shop thundered open, making Madara's head snap to the side. He watched as a group of men entered the shop, all of them wearing dark cloaks and red tinted glasses. Their leader headed in front, his white suit and ginger hair making him stand out to the shinobi. His bowler hat sat atop his head, framing the face of a truly devious man.

"Do you know how hard it is to find a dust shop open this late at night?" The man drawled, glaring at the old man up front as his men spread out. Madara's eyes narrowed, already knowing all he needed to by the sound of his voice.

This was a robbery.

He silently watched as Roman intimidated his boss, clamoring about dust with a cruel smirk on his face. A feeling long foreign bubbled in Madara's veins. The feeling of concern for another.

He couldn't be idle this time.

But he stays silent, anger rising as he waits for the perfect moment. He could see one of the men walk up behind the new customer, beginning to yell at her, shaking his weapon at the young girl.

Perfect.

Sure enough, another one of the lackeys stomped over to Madara, pointing a gun at his chest and snarling. "Put your hands up, now!" Madara said nothing at first, before busting out in a small fit of laughter, causing the gunman to seeth in rage. He shoved his rifle further in Madara's direction, the cold steel nearly touching his chest.