Chapter Text
Hikaku winces as Kikiyo levels an accusing stare at him.
She gestures at Izuna-sama's back emphatically, and Hikaku raises his hands to the heavens in reply. Izuna-sama may be his best friend, but he has no idea what they're doing either. And if she expects him to exercise any control over their clan heir, she is very much mistaken.
Not even Madara-sama can do that.
They may be heading towards the battlefield to fight, but none of them know why. It's not over water rights, or fields, or trade routes or missions. It's not even about vengeance and the shed blood of the clan.
Frankly, no one except for Izuna-sama and Madara-sama really fight anymore, most of the Uchiha merely defending themselves and waiting for the inevitable call to retreat as soon as Izuna-sama has stolen his latest prize.
This entire situation is in the laps of the gods and he washes his hands of it. He communicates as much to her with silent swearing, and has the pleasure of seeing her roll her eyes.
She spent a week in company with Izuna-sama's rival once while they were both at the daimyo's court - just one week! - and came back with the habit. It's amazing how fast it's spread through the clan. Hikaku is just waiting for the day when he will catch Izuna-sama doing it and then he will laugh and laugh.
Still, though he is safe from observation by Madara-sama as he follows in the man's footsteps, it won't do to be delayed simply because he was sharing his frustrations with Kikiyo.
He quickens his footsteps.
He does want to see Izuna-sama's fight after all.