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Kamihane pushed open the stone door. Madara Uchiha sat shirtless on a throne-like chair, his torso a canvas of half-healed scars. Crimson flesh pulsed at his sternum like grotesque heartbeat, oozing fresh blood with each throb.
"Late." Madara's voice rumbled deeper than volcanic strata.
"Unexpected detour." Kamihane approached, noting the man's haggard edges. "Tobirama Senju's parting gift sent me iron-country sightseeing. Got roughed up, but..."
Hikari wrung a wet towel nearby, making Madara's jaw twitch imperceptibly.
"Infection prevention," she explained without looking up. "Lord Madara's Hashirama-cell graft refuses to scar. Open wound needs..."
Kamihane blinked. Can't you see he'd rather eat lava than admit needing help?
"Correct protocol." Madara ground out through locked teeth.
"Better method." Kamihane raised a palm. Chakra rippled as airborne moisture coalesced – not Water Release, but raw atmospheric vapor sculpted into liquid threads.
Madara's scarred flesh steamed clean as microscopic water tendrils siphoned away grime. Blood swirled into Kamihane's palm like crimson comet.
"Marine adaptation?" Madara's Sharingan flickered analytic crimson.
"Nearly drowned learning it." Kamihane tossed the bloodsphere into a drain.
"Pain breeds power." Madara leaned back, gaze drifting to ceiling fissures. "My chakra networks... like thousands of tangled yarn balls. Pathetic."
Hikari slammed her tray down. "We're here!"
"You taught me this." Kamihane met his mentor's gaze. "Endure. Evolve. I await your Sage of Six Paths awakening."
Madara's chuckle held rare warmth. "Report your travels."
"So you've been feeding Lord Madara... carrots?" Kamihane stared at the mountain of orange roots.
Hikari's cheeks flushed pink, fingers knotting nervously. "V-vitamins help healing! People say..."
"Carrot stew. Carrot rice. Carrot sculptures..." Kamihane massaged his temples. Even Hashirama's cells can't fix malnutrition.
"Maintaining his strength requires proper nutrition." He vanished in shunshin, returning minutes later dragging a boar still steaming from kill-freshness.
Chakra-blades shimmered emerald as Kamihane butchered the beast with surgical precision. Blood swirled down drains in liquid ribbons. Soon sizzling garlic and ginger perfumed the air.
Hikari's Sharingan whirled unconsciously, recording every knife stroke and seasoning pinch.
"Want lessons?" Kamihane flipped the wok, caramelized pork belly dancing.
"I don't need domestic skills!" she snapped, throat bobbing at the aroma.
Madara's nostrils flared where he sat meditating. A traitorous stomach growl echoed through stone corridors.
"Special grade chakra-boar," Kamihane announced, presenting glazed meat glistening with sauce. "Hikari prepared the garnish."
"Taste-tested!" The girl licked glossy lips pointedly.
Madara's eyelids lifted millimeter by regal millimeter. "Unnecessary."
"Ah, understandable." Kamihane sighed dramatically. "After all, properly cooking chakra-infused meat requires..."
Hikari caught on, smirk blossoming. "Lord Madara's palate might be too delicate..."
"Impudent whelps." Madara snatched the plate.
The first bite froze him – caramelized fat dissolving into umami fireworks, Hashirama's cells singing in sudden vitality.
Chopsticks became blurs. Kamihane dove into the fray. "My protein!"
"Cheaters!" Hikari stabbed her fork, laughter bubbling through competitive chewing.
In the grease-smeared aftermath, Madara studied sauce-stained fingers. "...Second helping."
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