1. (Madara)

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"Madara, hurry!"

"Go inside, silly! It's sufficient if only one of us gets drenched!"

My sister laughed as she ran inside, trying to protect her head from the rain with her hands but failing. I did my best to hurry up taking the laundry down. There was really no use; every sheet and piece of clothing was already as wet as they had been when I had hung them up earlier that morning. Might as well just leave it for when the rain passed and the sun came out again. But it felt wrong. I would feel sorry for the laundry if I left it out.

I took the last sheet into my embrace and ran inside. Once in the kitchen, I fell down in a heap on the floor, laughing. My sisters all jumped on me, hugging me and laughing as well.

"Thank you, my dear."

It was my mother. It always clenched at my heart, seeing how age took her year by year. She was a gentle soul with a kind smile and pain in her joints. I did my best to help her however much I could.

"Let me make you some tea, Madara."

It was the eldest of my three little sisters who offered. At twenty, she was eight years younger than me, but still very motherly. The others were eighteen and seventeen.

I sat down at the table to dry and drink the warm brew with my sisters. Or, they weren't really my sisters. My mother was truly my aunt who had adopted me when I was only three and my parents had died in a horse carriage accident.

"Did you bring in water from the well this morning, Madara?" my mother asked as she stood doing the dishes at the sink of our messy but warm kitchen.

"I did", I said.

I warmed my frozen hands on the steaming mug, revealing in yellow warmth of the pinewood kitchen with the fireplace burning from early autumn until late spring, when there was a knock on the door. My sisters ran to open it, all at the same time, curious as always. 

"Some carrots and potatoes for you." It was the neighbour lady. "From our lands."

"Oh, thank you, dear", my mother said.

"Do we have beans, mother?" I asked and stood up. "I can make a stew for tonight."

"Oh, brother, can you bake bread as well?" my youngest sister pleaded.

I looked over at my mother. Do we have enough flour left? I didn't want to worry my sisters by asking out loud, but she understood my concern.

"Make sure you stand next to your brother as he bakes and cooks", she said mildly. "So you all learn how to make it. Pay attention!"

"You must stay for dinner", I told our neighbour.

"I will do no such thing!" she protested. As everyone, she was aware food was scarce, because money was scarce.

"It's the least we can do as thanks", our mother said. "Ask your husband over. And your sons!"

At this last part, mother looked sternly at her daughters. They glared at her. As they were all coming of age, my mother was worried to have them all married. The neighbour's sons, however gentle and smart they were, were not to my sister's taste, however, to mother's dismay. It made me smile a little, seeing how distraught it made them that mother had invited them.

Dinner became a lovely occurrence still.

"You are a lovely cook, Madara!" The neighbour lady complimented me. "Where have you learned all of that?"

"My mother taught me, ma'am", I said.

"You will make a bride very happy one day", she answered.

I grimaced, and my eldest sister took my hand beneath the table and squeezed.

The loveliness of you (Tobirama x Madara)Where stories live. Discover now