On the way back to the clan compound, Shingetsu nestled in Madara's arms, unusually well behaved.
She was still only a little child, after all, with delicate, lovely features and a soft, slender frame. Draped gently against Madara's chest, she looked as precious as a reserved, haughty kitten.
To Madara, the little girl was as fragile as a climbing fern, someone who needed all the care he could give her to grow up safely.
From a tiny, soft, fragile infant who seemed barely bigger than his palm to the exquisite, adorable little girl she was now, this child seemed to have grown up entirely in his arms.
Thinking back, even Izuna had not spent so long in the crook of his arm. In those long-faded memories, little Izuna had soon left his protection behind and headed for the bloody battlefield.
Though he had never started a family, Madara always seemed to be experiencing the loneliness of parenthood. Perhaps this was what it meant for an eldest brother to be a father, and a teacher to be a father.
As he looked at the quiet, sensible Shingetsu in his arms, a trace of melancholy crept into Madara's eyes.
Just how much longer could he hold this child like this?
Perhaps this was something every parent worried about.
"Shingetsu, do you want to go back to the Ninja Academy?"
"Huh? Can I really?"
The unexpected question genuinely startled Shingetsu. She had agonized over whether she should return to school, but after thinking it over, she had decided to stay obediently in the clan compound. Instinctively, she had felt that Madara would never agree.
Yet now Madara had actually offered to let her return to school. It was so far beyond her expectations that she instinctively asked:
"But wouldn't that be dangerous?"
"Don't