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Summary
She’s incensed enough that her head could smoke and she wouldn’t be surprised by it. Her hand tightens around a chunk of hair. “You’re too powerful to submit to the demands of men.”
“Let go."
“The seal? You must have lost your mind when I knocked your head into that tree. A caged bird. What a thing to aspire to.”
A crushing pain lances through her hand - the one she’d planted over Tobirama’s - and she grunts. Tobirama’s teeth are sunken into it, stubborn and deep, and she shakes her by the hair to try and force her to let go. She only bites deeper, and Madara curses before letting go to grab her jaw and jam her mouth open. Her hand bears a perfect half-moon, ugly red and purple already around the base of her thumb.
“Consider,” Tobirama says, like ice, like she hasn’t just bitten like a dog and growled louder than one, “That despite your vaunted eyes, you do not see as much as you believe you do.”
Building a village requires manpower, materials, and the combined intelligence of its founders to prevent it being razed to the ground by the shogunate. Tobirama plots, arranges her own marriage, and instigates a coup. Madara despairs, and lusts.