Swift as a Coursing River (MadaNaru)

Chapter 12: Cold Lake

Training could only harden so much, the muscles it strengthened, the limbs made more flexible, the mind more patient. However, there was a durability that came with one's upbringing, one that Naruto did find himself sorely lacking as he spotted the fallen forms of his comrades who had not made the fall -and even those of their enemy, who in the great gusts of bellowing snow overcompensated and fell to their deaths- it was not a simple matter of weak mindedness, nor was it a fear of death, more of the respect of life.

Both of his parents were believers of sacred life, his father only coming to his own conclusion of 'no life wasted for no bloodshed earned' after his duration in the war. Still it had been past onto him, almost as his hair or his eyes had, an embodied regard that he dared not loosen his hold of. Enemy or not, they possessed a soul, though charred their souls may have been.

Behind, Sakura was breathing heavily, small grunts of pain escaped her the moment more blood began to seep from her already blackened flesh. Selfishly he could not bare to face her, her injury was frightening and to grosome, he had seen much today already, should he be forced to bare more he may not be able to retain his earlier meal.

They were moving forward towards the cleft of the mountain, purposefully losing the high ground as to throw off the Huns with a ruse, no one knew if it would work. Yet the faith they had in their Captain was unwavering, and though their destination stood clear some form of shelter would need to be found. Rest was something everyone needed, no one could tread much further. Naruto had his mare on his side, carting the injured and providing a steady company for himself in the form of familiar comfort. Kakashi and Iruka were safe within the confines of one of this satchels.

His legs were sore from walking, his eyes weeping from lack of rest, skin peeling from sunburn and the cold of the mountains. Blood caked and dry on his back from his own blisters. His chest felt bare, uncomfortably so, his only form of protection against recognition was his underclothes and that was discomforting at best. So it came as a special type of solstice when Madara announced they would make camp for the night and rise early in order to beat the huns to the empiral city.

Overall it was a pleasant area, many trees to hide them from prying eyes, plentiful wildlife to hunt, a lake not yet frozen -still unbearably cold. Which is exactly why he found his entire body abruptly set itself aflame, the hot flush serving to rid him of any concept of cold. He had thought he was alone by the lakeside, but not to far from him was Madara.

Long darkened hair wet and cascading down his back, sticking to his form, curving around muscles that Naruto knew he would never obtain. Dipping and protruding along all manners of scars stagnated across his torso and back. He was mostly above water, his legs were predominantly covered, his genitalia was not.

Considering the temperature Naruto wasn't surprised, but his mind was intrigued and his eyes kept tempting him to cast his gaze downwards and simply look, 'just a peek.' He obscured his thoughts as the man bent back. Taking his hair into his calloused hands and draining it with such gentleness that almost seemed Omega-like.

Despite his certain humiliation in confronting the captain in such a state of nudity, he held himself firm, and in ture match to an alpha of his standing did not allow the expected blush to win over in a battle of honour.

Meeting with his superior while bathing had not been his intent, however, it would not change his objective. There was every possibility he would die tomorrow, that Madara could die equally. Courage was not needed to declare himself.

"Captain!" It was a slight shock to see the man jump as he turned towards his voice, nevertheless more then minutely musing in the principle of it. Even so, what was more gratifying was the small upturn of the man's lips when their eyes rested on each other "I've been meaning to ask, not in necessity, but my own curiosity, how is it you are not married yet?" Perhaps to one not well acquainted with the more subtle darkness within the man it would be a rude, disrespectful, or even unkind question. Yet with them, it was something more simplistic, an unspoken, unbridled trust.