Madara sighed. The sigh wasn't happy or one of relief, rather it was one of impatience. You were late, if only by a few minutes. Madara didn't like to wait. Especially not in rundown, musty old buildings, such as the one you two had made a habit of meeting in. He would have to make an excuse for Izuna why he smelled like mold when he went home.

You two were alike. Not in looks or aspects of life, but in personality and the way you both thought. You were both cruel bastards, which was what interested him. He had never met someone (other than himself) who was so... merciless. It was like meeting a copy of his mind, only one who lived in a whole other village far away.

But you still came to your monthly meeting to discuss life's troubles. Madara leaned his back against a half-broken portion of wall, glaring at you as you entered. He spoke after a moment, his voice just a monotonous and flat as usual seemed to echo around the broken house.

"You're late."