Chapter 1
Sasuke, the proud man, had always been his antithesis, the opposition to all he represented; Sasuke, was bound to a goal of revenge of self-revival, if one looked into the man with a careful eye. Swift, elegant, arrogant, methodical; Naruto knew the list could continue for countless minutes, perhaps an hour of prise written on paper the letters bore no false word, and the blond knew that well enough for his own weakness continued to clamour within him. Tears fell in ease over the white sheet and the ink smeared slightly as he cried over his own mused scrawl, it was a ridiculous notion, Naruto comprehended, as he breathed deeply to settle himself. He sat back in the small wooden chair, not paying attention to the ache it put unto his thighs as he did so. He sat with the brush held, near falling, out of his hand, his mind drifting away ever so slightly, the wetness at his eyes only seeming to grow as he forced his thoughts to turn silent, mainly because they rattled on without preamble. The room was absent of any sound besides the sobs he was failing to withhold, pride be damned. The ache in his chest allowed, the rivlets flowed and he could only shakily inhale through the salt and water he was managing to breathe in.
Standing was painful, as the back of his knees felt hypersensitive to the worn wood of the seating, and he'd slapped his hands against the desk in some type of futile resolution. He wished to scoff upon himself for his own thoughts, though all the words he painted were written in truthful perspective, he knew well enough; the Uchiha heir had never been his opposite, not truthfully. They were both unnervingly similar, both oddly separate, Naruto had only taken notice whence their dating had begun.
Unto him, Sasuke was a lover, a man that had held most of his scrapped heart for many months of wondrous mutual comprehension and understanding, of sitting together in silence at one of their homes watching a foolish drama neither of them truly cared for, as they spoke of unimportant drivel, in monotone voice and excitable enthusiasm; Naruto would often find himself speaking his mind on a topic that Sasuke would disagree with, then they would both argue until the wind left their lungs, but then they would each laugh slightly at their own opposition.
Unto Sasuke, he had been an escape, an easy relief away from the bane of work. They had known each other through preschool, through highschool, then disconnected somewhere in between, only rekindling their tentative friendship years later; speaking at first as pure old-friends then establishing each other as something further when they had fallen into bed together by an accident neither had desired at the time. Sasuke had asked him out at that point, and their dates had been simplistic, away from the thrall of people and life in general, as if a fantasy of escape unto both of them.
He threw upon his backpack for the day, letting the sleek material knock him in the back with his lunch and the various assignments, as if a reminder. The carpet of his apartment cold against his feet as he put on his shoes, and shoved his hand aimlessly in the direction of his keybowl, hitting his fingers against the corner of the counter in the process; he hissed to the sensation. Still he threw open the door, and breathed in the mist of the morning air as he locked it behind him.
Attempting to throw on a smile to curl his lips, he managed it, but with all his emotion shown through his eyes burning as cold as diamonds. The ringing of understanding still echoing within his head as he walked to work, it had been a week since he understood, yet his mind hadn't appeared to care. While his head raised high, with his tears no longer flowing, with his walk more a stomp then a determined walk, his chest still hurt at the betrayal. For even if he was an idiot -as Sasuke had so often said- if all the words his friend had spoken in his ear at night after they had exhausted themselves, had truly meant something, then certainly the man would have told Naruto of his wife waiting at home. In a manner, the blond knew he would have accepted that fact, would have allowed the affair to continue even, if he had known, if he had been told. He would have let Sasuke break the woman's heart for his own sake; because Naruto knew, he had just been stuck that deep into his own feelings at that point.
It had been the lie, the secrecy in a way, that had made him break away from the cold man. Though he had always known Sasuke had been hiding him away from the world; he had not realized that it had been to keep his wife from knowing. In that, the guilt had resonated within him so absolutely that he had ended everything over the phone, without allowing Sasuke to speak his side; something he would normally never do.
Which was likely why Naruto had found himself writing to a person he had not expected to ever speak to again, for comfort, for clarity, for validation; the blond didn't know himself, he had only just recently found out the truth. The burn of betrayal was fresh and he had sent his first letter out to the military encampment a mere four days ago, it was a question if the man would even bother to give a response. Naruto scoffed at the consideration, if he did, it was entirely plausible that he would write with a scornful tone, with ire and bile written out through cold anger. Still, Naruto held onto the slim hope that maybe he would open up a beige envelope only to enhile that familiar scent of oak and berries like a fresh wine, and there sprawled within the letter would be a form of comfort, not soft words or sympathy -he was not stupid enough to expect something opposing his cold nature-; but familiarity and the stoic rationality the man had always managed to display, Naruto had found that comfort in its own method.
The blond entered his workplace with a scorning scowl directed unto himself, pondering the possibility that his heartbreak now was merely a form of karma from his teen years of foolhardy idiocy resonating upon him now; though, he had never considered those years foolish, his adopted father would disagree. Naruto allowed himself a smile as he sat at his desk, the atmosphere welcoming to his still turning mind: After all, he had fallen fast and fallen hard back then, and in his own bitter way he had done so again. He brought out the assignments from his bag and threw them onto his desk without a care as his computer booted up. He found himself sighing, wondering what his father would say of his actions yet again dismantling him.
Lee beside set down his coffee at the edge of his desk as he always had, a bright smile on his comrade's face, Naruto had wondered many times if it had ever dissipated. The man was exceptionally cheerful, and the blond had always admired that about him. Lee brought coffees in for everyone every single morning, without a need to, and without a word of complaint. Everyone in the office loved Lee, he was sweet, kind, and quite selfless, even disregarding his ecstatic- eccentric personality no one said anything negative of him. Naruto had wished many times that he could fall for someone like Lee, but the man simply was not to his particular type, which was sad in its own merit.
Naruto also wished he could be somewhat more like Lee, more selfless, more kind; perhaps then, he would not have destroyed his own marriage so long ago.
He chuckled to himself for his own idle thoughts, playing with the keys of his keyboard as he wondered about what exactly he should be typing. He had never expected himself to write to his husband again, yet he had, with the trigger of his own ridiculous heartbreak. He wondered if Madara would ever forgive him for his selfish reasoning of the past. Disregarding that, he wondered if Madara would be insulted that he had written to him about his own -recent- former lover.
Naruto had fallen desperately in love with his spouse as a teenager, regardless of the fact that the man had been his elder, by several, obvious, years.
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They had met, by accident, in the National Defense Building as Naruto had been delievering a document of sorts from his foster father to his biological Grandfather; a man he so rarely got to see that he had been ecstatic at the fact he was even within the country. He had been running through the halls in expectation as he so commonly did, when he had ran directly into a sober military man walking through the halls, with a bitter express and an extremely tall figure. Naruto could vividly describe the scowl of unrelenting disgust he'd earned; even presently. Madara had been busy that day, Naruto knew, he had been orginizing some official paperwork for the future promotions of some higher grade officers -or so he had been told; he had also only just been transferred from a base in a different country and had yet to be know who Naruto was. Even so, as Madara had glared down upon him as if he has just stepped within shite, the man had offered a hand to help the blond up, and Naruto had taken it eagerly, embarrassed from having fallen down from simply running into a man.
That did not mean Madara had been a charitable man, back then he had only been a Coronel and a very strict one from what Naruto presently knew of the man. He had brought Naruto to his feet then demanded what a child was doing within the NDB let alone running through the halls.
That was how their dour affair began:
It had been rather scrupulous and neither had known that feelings were arising at the time. As they had simply kept meeting in a similar manner over the passing days, either by Naruto being careless and running through the halls. Or when the blond was merely speaking with one of the many military officials he knew around the building and Madara entering the room. Commonly he gained a glare from the man, but as it became more obvious that Naruto cared not for Madara's opinion, the glare turned into an irritated eye-roll, and then a resigned sigh.
After a few weeks of the same routine however, Naruto had walked up to the man and stuck up a conversation as he normally would with anyone else. Smiling and cheerful, introducing himself as Umino Naruto, -which was true, though at the time his Grandfather had been working to restore and regain his maternal name. He had gained an uninterested grunt from the man, and he'd pouted because of it. Which in turn earned a sigh and a begruntled mutterence of "Madara." With nothing else attached, computers had yet to be exceptionally useful back then so Madara had been orginizing the papers on his desk and writing reports by hand. He had found the man interesting, he hadn't known why. -now though he could probably explain it as a type of attraction, at least by his own muted understanding.- Naruto had suffled his foot in the awkward air surround him, before asking what Madara was doing, in the most dejected tone that could have parted his lips.
"Organizing." It was a strained reply, but Naruto had found it enduring and kept asking over the following days, which turned into weeks. Which had them slowly talking further, in a sociable manner. They were aquintances turning into friends of a sort, and neither quite minded, though Naruto had noted that Madara would avoid him for a day or two if he became unnerved by their interactions. As he so later found out, the man had been ignoring his presence for the sake of his own purity of mind, their conversations had divulged upon occasion, though Naruto knew he had been such a virgin at that time he wouldn't have known if something licentious popped out his mouth.
The ball had been when things really coalessed into a different scale. For although 'balls' were typically thought of as an event from the victorian era or the regency; charity balls, business balls, celebrations, all types of party for the formal elite were still put under such a classification upon occasion. Naruto had been attending the military charity event with a sour expression, crossed arms, and a suit he hated. He had come to the event only for the sake of his Grandfather who had begged him to come along with pleading eyes and a promise of his favourite food later.
When he was sulking in the corner he had found Madara nearby. By all appearance avoiding the main area with athoughtful, almost glaring, glances to the direction of the main reception with all the extravagant people conversing. He was twirling a glass of red wine in his hand while his other was stuck firmly in his pocket, Naruto had thought the man could be compared to a threatened predator in the wild. Thus naturally, the blond had walked up to him and purposefully nudged his arm to gain his attention, luckily no wine had been spilt, but Naruto did earn himself a brief exasperated glare for his effort of distraction. Madara did shake his head in amusement -at least that is how Naruto still viewed it- before taking a sip of his drink and asking rather blandly: "Shouldn't you be working on homework at this time?" Naruto had shrugged, it was a good question, he was sure that his Grandfather had to plead with his father to get permission to bring him to the event; in fear of his grades his dad had been more strict in those days. "You're going to end up failing at this point." Madara had grumbled out with only slight true reprimand.
"I'm not gonna fail." He had earned himself a sceptical glance at that point, but Naruto had forced himself not to take response as he normaly would, in ire. Instead he turned the conversation entirely. "Anyway, I know why I'm standing in the corner, but why are you? You're a Corporal ain't cha? You should be mingling." Madara had then leant against the wall in repression, something depressed had interwoven with his irises then a strained expression taking over the man's stoic demeanour. He drank heavily from his glass, and Naruto watched as his neck took in the liquid, as his eyes glinted for just a moment to a darkened red as he put his cup down, then crossed both his arms, a sour simper on his face. Naruto had found the entire mood changed in that moment.
"I am merely avoiding some family members I do not wish to see, that's all." It said a lot, yet nothing, and though Naruto knew he was no psychologist at the time -or now- he did know that the topic was a tense one, and hadn't bothered to pry.
Instead he had grasped at Madara's arm, and asked as sweetly he might "well, c'mon, you wanna leave? Because I know I do." Had he not asked that simple question, Naruto knew that nothing would have ever occurred between them. So, regardless of the fact that it had gotten him into much trouble later on, he had yet to regret it.
They had swept out that night, with no one -that they knew of- witnessing them leave -though Naruto had spoken to one of the lazy cadets attending with their parents to tell his grandfather he had gone home- both of them had been heavy in their coats, walking side-by-side outside into the crisp air of spring. Neither of them had any particular plans in mind, other then simply leaving the ball.
That is when Naruto had found himself kissing Madara, poised on the tips of his toes. The man had clasped his small -too small really- face in his scared hands and pulled him up a slight higher.
Naruto could only think that for a man of such stoic practicality, it had been a very romantic gesture.
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Much occurred inbetween, including many casual dates but a year later had found them married with Naruto's father Iruka as witness -who had complained and scolded, but still adhered to his son's wishes in the end.- And neither of them regretted their shotgun wedding until a year after the event, but not for the fact that either of them considered it a mistake.
At the time, Naruto had just begun considering telling his friends -and perhaps even telling his Grandfather- of the happiness in his life. That had been when a letter had come calling his husband back to -battleground- deployment, and though he had shed a waterfall of tears Naruto had reluctantly broken ties with the man for the fear of pain it would cause if he fell in battle, he knew it would break him. Madara had been hurt for it, he'd known; but the man had still held him tight in his arms the day he left, he had kissed him on his forehead before leaving their door, bags in hand and stoic expression in place.
They hadn't spoken for nearly eight years.
Madara was still in service -under his own request from what little Naruto heard from the news. Naruto had stayed in his same job since highschool and had only moved up a few positions since. They had never divorced.
So in a manner he had committed the same sin as Sasuke, though he had never let go the love he still retained for Madara, ever. He had loved Sasuke in a his own way, more minimal perhaps, but not simply as a friend, that he knew.
Eight years was too many to go without talking to the man you loved; Naruto knew this. Regret filled him so strongly for his decision, that now, had he the choice, he likely would have told himself to stop crying and hold onto the man who'd always adored him, to write to him, to love him still. But for the sake of his own heart, by the manner of his own selfish action, he had forgone the opportunity. He had never written to his husband a strong man, who still fought within the armed forces to help the country.
He had even gone so far as to hide his marriage long ago; to save himself the pain of a pink slip and the pain of people knowing, asking.
Naruto knew that had Sasuke not walted back into his life, he would have even told himself he could forget Madara and move on if he died, when he knew he couldn't.
At the very least, for all the hurt it caused him: Sasuke had made him comprehend that his love for his absent husband rang true, forever. Even if Madara died: It burned to understand.
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There had been a letter in his post box, one from the military, one sealed with wax, one smooth to the touch, one waiting to be opened. One he was fidgeting about with his fingers. Madara had never written to him; upon his own request, now to hold such a response in his hands he found his heart fluttering quickly as a bird's feathers in the breeze, he regretted the request naturally. Excitement jittered his movements, and stilled his mind for proper reasoning, for nerves stung at him slightly. The possibilities of all answers to his own letter could burn him deeply, scorching him as a third degree. His shoes were still wet from the puddle he had stepped in on his walk back, and in his excitement he had been foolish enough to forget to take them off at the door.
Madara had always despised when he did such a stupid thing, for Naruto was bad at cleaning up for himself when they had first gotten together; he had only gotten marginally better in the following years. In a way the water on the carpet was humours to his mind, and it gave him an out from thinking about the awaiting answer inside the beige envelope. He cleaned it first with their stove towel, and the pressure of his now bare feet, under that same position standing on the puddle, he grasped the letter on the table, nerves still shaking his fingers. He was far too careful in breaking the seal, but the soothing scent of oak and berries hit him gently as it always had, and a warmth he had not experienced for ages, his curiosity forced him to unfold the paper and read.
Naruto.
It is an interesting topic to write me about after eight years. Scrailigious.
You spoke of a lonely mind, a weakness; though I admit we both habour the same bane. The ranks bare comradeship, though not with the same intensity that you portray, I've found.
You wrote to me originally about an old friend, the one whom you fell into bed with. Your topic changed therein, quite drastically I might add.
I do not ignore the tear prints you left upon the paper Naruto, proof of your conviction I am certain. You wrote of regrets for your actions, what surprised me was your writings of our separation. Though you should comprehend, I am a grown man Naruto, I have been married in previous, I can forgive and comprehend a few mistaken nights of passion with a man of your childhood affections. Especially in considerence of your experience and in my absence.
You wrote that you still feel for me, as a spouse: As you well know, I am not a man of expression, nor of flattery and comfort, but understand this; even after nearly a decade, I do still love you as I had when we signed.
Major General
- Madara.
Joy near overcame him to the extent, he nary fell over onto the carpet and wounded himself. He grinned to no one, his eyes leaking once more in the day, clutching the letter to his chest as if within a nineteen-fifties soap-drama. It was a ridiculous notion, but the blond found himself wanting to shout out at the world in victory of the fact that his husband still loved him, he had his balcony to do so. However, he resisted the urge to do so, and instead grasped his recently bought 'flip-phone' which he was still growing accustomed to, and phoned his father.
He began with a loud shout "Dad!" To which he gained another loud yell in protest. Though, in his joy, he only came to laugh at the reprimand. "Dad! Guess what!?" He got a 'hmming' sound in contemplation, though he did note Iruka sounded excited for him.
"I dunno, what sunshine?" Naruto grinned to his phone, twirling about his apartment with the mind of a man in ecstasy.
"I just got a letter from Madara!" Naruto had known for ages, even before they married that Iruka disapproved of his spouse.
There were countless reasonings: The fact that the man was within the military had actually come up several times at least whilst Naruto and Madara had been dating. Though as expected, the age difference had come to predominence, and though it irritated the blond to endless reaches, he could at least comprehend the scptisim. When he had met Madara, the man had been thirty-five and Naruto had been fifteen, their age-gap was twenty years appart, and quite hard to dismiss; especially for an overprotective father. Further, it was part of the reason why his marriage had never been mentioned to his grandfather; who was nineteen years older then his husband. It was scandalous to be put mildly.
He heard his dad sigh on the other line. "Well," Naruto put up his hand, for what reason, he did not know.
"I'm glad Dad, I still love him ya' know?" It brought on the sober in his mind, but the joy forth from the letter he now clung to.
"Yes Naruto I know, I've known for awhile. I'm just- I'm allowed to worry, I don't want you to hurt yourself again." Naruto took notice of the fact that his father had most assuredly said 'hurt yourself,' and not 'he hurt you,' he hated when Iruka blamed Madara for everything. Still the man continued a slight happier note in his tone. "He's still on deployment? Eight years is quite awhile, is everything alright? I haven't spoken with your Grandpa recently, he's been so busy, but you know how secretive he can be about the forces so I doubt he would have told me anyhow, still-" The ramble would have continued forth for an hour at least if Naruto allowed the frothing tarade to continue.
"-I don't know Dad, Madara didn't mention anything in his letter, but I think that just means everything is normal." Naruto affirmed, more to himself then his father. His Grandfather had not phoned or written him in a while as it was, though that was rather common with the man's standard absence. Naruto knew the man loved him dearly, but he had a frequency to run away from his relationships. So the silence was what he expected in its own way. As example; his biological Grandmother was a three-star Marshal in the Air Force of whom his Grandfather had been in and out of marriage with for nearly fourty years. Naruto had only met the woman a few times as it were, for she, much alike his Grandfather, was someone who ran from relationships.
"Maybe you should call or write your Grandfather -I'm not sure how the reception would be wherever he is, but I'm sure he'd be delighted to hear from you." He smiled, of course he would be, Jiraiya and him rarely talked, but he still hadn't called the man, for Naruto continuously worried he would be disturbing something important. Though in some aspect it was his maintained guilt that impeded him; his biological family had a long standing tradition of military service, and he -Naruto, had been the only one to take a different carrier path by becoming a 'fashion journalist' it was a rather noticeable divergence. An even though not biologically related, even his father had been an Officer Cadet for the Navy at one point. The stark contrast was hard to ignore, and while he was still a proud pacifist, Naruto did feel unsteady in his decisions at times. "Naruto?" His father's voice rang through the receiver and he absently agreed to attempt in calling his Grandfather, before they exchanged common pleasantries and hung up.
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He rested the rather wrinkled letter on the countertop and dialed the familiar number, hoping that for once, the man for once would actually answer and he wouldn't have to talk to a secretary. He had sat down at this point, his joviality gone, as his mind became meloncoly once again: He hated lying to his Grandpa, it had always felt wrong, even as a child, and now, still, it resonated with him. He almost hoped that no one would pick up, as he always did.
"Hello?" But of course, once his guilt had manifested into a tsunami the familiar baritone of his Grandfather rang true.
"Hey Pervert! Long time no conversation!" As usual though, his brightened exterior did the work of sounding delighted -which he was- to hear from the man. His melancholy blocked out over the phone, even as Naruto was certain the pit in his stomach could be seen. His throat felt bundled with nerves and his own want to collapse upon the man for hugs and confess everything in a shower of tears and a cacophany of sobbing was extensively strong.
"Naruto! God its good to hear from you kid- and be glad you aren't on speakerphone! I don't need my reputation tarnished any further by you calling me a pervert!" He grinned, despite his own coagulating emotions he had missed talking to the man. Jiraiya had been in the military since he was sixteen and as the man was currently sixty-two that was a long time. Yet, he'd never wavered from his decision to join, regardless of the distance it had put between him and his son -and Naruto's deceased biological father, Minato. For awhile Naruto had resented him for his unwavering loyalty as it had separated and damaged his family; but while dating Madara he had come to respect his Grandfather a little more because of it; after all for the most part, his husband was the same way, and he respected Madara even before they had begun seeing each other.
He laughed, though the sobbing he wished to unleash began to echo into his humour in the breaking of his voice. "Ah too late old man!"
"Everything alright kid? You sound like something happened." He rubbed at his eyes, which had taken to leaking as if consciously aware that his grandfather was a large comfort, they probably were, Naruto realized.
"A few things, its alright, just a problem with this guy- one from highschool ya know, we were kind of seeing each other, but not really, and I guess I just kind found out that-" Automatically, the blond began spilling his guts out to the man on the other line. Though he managed to stop himself, and let out a sigh of relief that he hadn't mentioned writing to his military husband for comfort -he had a small feeling that would have been bad. Jiraiya had been intruged however, and Naruto found himself receiving the harsh scolding tone of his grandfather; the type of tone he used with idiot officers and stupid cadets, Naruto found himself wilting a little under the sound.
"What did you find out? Did he do something?" Naruto decided to bow to the pressure and not be stubborn in protectingn his pride, it was a rarity to hear his Grampa serious in anything besides work.
"Nothing! I mean- well, I found out he was actually married and kinda screwing around with me as a kind of side beneift, but I haven't talked to him for a week so I don't actually know what-" He stopped when he heard a clatter on the other end of the line, and what sounded like a shout then a bang, and a soft tilted voice that most certainly wasn't his grandfather speaking. Naruto made the logical assumption that his secretary had entered the room, but he waited for Jiraiya to speak first.
"Cheating little brat- What's this guy's name huh?!" It was a growl that came through the line, and Naruto almost found himself wanting to curl away at the daunting tone in his always cheerful grandfather's voice. The man had always been happy even when scolding troubling troops, he had never been angry at Naruto, at least not from what the blond had seen.
"I-" He stopped himself from speaking, the tremble in his voice ego-brusing, he knew the man wasn't angry at him, not truly, though the sound was intimidating in itself. He also did not want to tell the man anything about Sasuke. He did not know what the man would do with the information, but Naruto had a feeling it would be hazardous to his grandfather's job if he said anything. Besides the fact that the man sounded as if he had the potential to go crashing into Sasuke's workplace and give him a beating, Naruto did not think Sasuke -as skilled as he remained with martial arts, could deal with his grandfather with ease; the man was dangerous when angry and a former member of the Special Ops for a reason.
A grumble came from the other line, though Naruto was glad for it as the sound indicated that Jiraiya wasn't going to burst from his seat and demand his poor secretary to get plane tickets home. "Fine, fine don't tell me, but you sorted it out right?" The pout was obvious, even though Naruto couldn't see the man, he knew that he was slumped in his chair irritated at the fact that he couldn't do anything.
"Its sorted, I don't know the full situation anyway. I mean, I don't know if his wife was aware or even if he loves the woman, I just knew what he was doing to me was more then I could handle." It was mostly true, and though he avoided some facts, he hadn't lied, which was a comfort. "Anyway! Enough about that ass! Where are you working anyway? You never siad."
"Eh? Oh, I'm just working out of the office in the South at the moment, I'm not to far off actually. I was going to visit, but you know the ladies here just won't let me." Naruto came to laughing at the stupid ecxuse, knowing his grandfather it was partically true in its own manner, but the strain of work was more likely then a hord of wanton women.
"Sure Gramps. And I'm a straight wooden plank." He rolled his eyes at the very joke, to which he heard a ring of laughter.
"Oh shut it you! I'm just a chick-magnant, simple as that." He scoffed, as the previous statement, it had its own form of truth. Shuffling once more came from the phone, "-just a sec bud." Naruto bet that had it been anyone else, she would have been put on hold, but as it was his grandfather; the phone was simply put down on the desk and he could hear almost everything.
"I'm on a call, so whatcha need?"
"Sir, what I need is your seal, I've been asking for the past week." Naruto felt his chest constrict into a ball, the pressure constraining at the familiar voice; he knew that stoic baritone. He heard his grandfather giggle at the reply, Naruto rolled his eyes.
"Ah yeah, right, I have that around- somewhere. Why don't you just ask Tenten? I'm almost sure she'll have it around." As usual. Naruto smiled, the man couldn't stay irritated at anyone, even for interrupting a phone call. Though he grinned at having heard Madara's voice, it had been awhile.
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