Makoto's companionable attitude—which lacked the usual killer glares, grunts and growls—didn't last long. Haruto was sure he'd made some progress with her but thanks to Sakura's big mouth, blabbing about how he'd single-handedly defeated Haku, Makoto had shut herself off from them. The blonde didn't want to blame his teammate because how was she to know the Uchiha had such a competitive attitude? Well, anyone with half a brain should know—the name was sorta the big hint.
Haruto sighed gloomily from where his team had dispersed, right before the Hokage tower. He was about to shuffle off when he heard someone calling him back. He turned, curious as to why he was being held back, to see the secretary waving at him to come back inside. He did so, a welcoming smile on his face—he swore the older woman flushed—as he inquired why he was needed.
"Ah," the brunette gathered herself quickly. "The Hokage wants to see you about something."
Haruto blinked. "Okay," he said before he bounded up the stairs, eager to see one of his idols. He had six of them—his Kaa-san, Otou-san (who, by the way, was the Fourth Hokage), Ero-sennin and his ancestors, the Shodai and Nidaime. And of course, the old but powerful man he was going to see now.
He entered the room, about to call out to the old man in his usual rude—to the onlookers anyway—but someone beat him to it. "Gramps!" Haruto blinked owlishly, scratching the back of his his head as he stared at the little brown-haired boy by his side, brandishing his wooden practice shurikens like they were really deadly weapons. "Fight me! Today is the day you
"Oi, brat," Haruto, never the subtle one, said. "What're you doing threatening the Old Man—"
"Oof!"
"Haha," the Senju approached the boy testily, just as said kid whirled around to face him. Haruto was about to inquire his condition, ignoring the Hokage's weary sigh, but stopped short when the kid looked up at him with tears brimming in his eyes. "Yo, kid—"
"You tripped me!"
A vein popped on Haruto's head; he absolutely hated being accused of something he didn't do—even if it was something as trivial as this. "No," the blonde grounded out angrily. "I didn't do anything; you tripped on your own scarf!"
"Liar!" the child snapped, stomping his foot angrily on the ground before he charged the older boy, his hands wind-milling, moving but never connecting. "Monster! Demon! Traitor! Conspiracy!"
The first two stung because, mainly, it was true but Haruto tried to calm himself because he knew the child didn't mean it—for the kid's sake before he went berserk, hopefully it was not intentional. Settling for gritting his teeth, and snatching the kid up by the collar because though the hits didn't hurt, they were annoying, he spat, "Care to repeat that?" he cocked a fist threateningly. "I'll teach you a nice lesson you'll never forget!"
"Ha," the kid laughed, though somewhat nervously, saying he wasn't intimidated by the blonde would be a big fat lie. "I dare you—if you knew who I am—"
"Unhand the Honorable Grandson at once, you heathenish villain," Haruto turned, the vein on his forehead growing and popping more when he saw the black-glasses wearing freak. What was with the cramming weirdoes anyway? Did he attract them that much? He didn't want their attention, the attention he wanted was from a few selected individuals who weren't currently present such as his mother and the Uchiha-Ice Queen—
He did not just think that. It took the Senju forever to work out that the brat was daring him to punch him right in front of the Hokage and his ANBU guards. Like Haruto cared; but his cheeks were flaming red from the previous slip of thought and what other way to erase a blush by venting his frustration?
The brat had a hard skull but if Haruto had applied chakra, he would've been nothing but a pile of brain goo but as it was, he only landed a few hard whacks which had the little boy yowling like crazy. It would've been hilarious had Haruto been paying attention.
And thinking of attention, why on earth would he want the Ice Queen's attention anyway? Sure she was strong, pretty and smart but—
Nonononono—
"Hey!" the Hokage's grandson—Haruto heard the Old Man muttering Konohamaru with exasperation under his breath and assumed that was the child's name—sprang to his feet, clutching the growing lumps on his forehead, expression etched in pain. "That's no way to treat the future Hokage!"
The thoughts of the village leader pushed away thoughts of upright, snappy but annoyingly attractive Uchiha girls—namely those that were named Makoto Uchiha and please just stop thinking, brain—and Haruto straightened, more interested in what the kid was saying. "What future Hokage?" Then he blinked and smirked deviously as the puzzled fell into places. "So you challenged your grandpa for the place? Ha! Better get in line, kid, I'm the future Hokage!"
Being Hokage was a goal Haruto had ever since he learned of his heritage. His ancestors were the founders and leaders of the village, his father was and his surrogate granddad was one too; and when said surrogate granddad retired, either his mother or his godfather would be taking his place as Hokage! If he didn't become a Hokage, how was he supposed to step out of their shadows?
Haruto paused; wait… Konohamaru—the title his instructor weirdo had called him—could it be…?
"Kid, you can't take a shortcut to be a Hokage," Haruto said seriously, his expression grim for once and it effectively stopped Konohamaru in his ranting; the boy stared up at the taller boy with childlike wonder. "Being Hokage is serious and tough work, you can't fight a battle for it. It is a dream realized only through many years of hard work, dedication and discipline. You must not only earn the respect of the people to the title Hokage but the respect for the person who is the Hokage." Haruto stopped to draw in a deep breath, sounding loud even to his own ears in the silence of the room. "That said, hmph, the Hokage mantel is mine!"
Konohamaru stared at him in momentarily stunned awe before he snapped back into emo-angry-state. "Who gives—" But the Senju was no longer paying him any attention, the blonde had already strolled out of the door and very dramatically, slammed the double doors shut behind him.
The younger boy cursed himself for thinking he looked so cool.
"Minato…" Sarutobi, who had been primarily ignored for his grandson even though he had been the one who wanted to see the Senju boy, whispered the name reverently. The blonde spikes, lack of bangs, markings on his cheeks did not erase the resemblance the child had to his father. He smiled faintly, he had a feeling the boy would be a great as a Hokage and hero as his father, if not, better.
Once outside, satisfied with the dramatic effect he'd make of himself, Haruto realized that he still hadn't found out what the Hokage wanted with him. "Oh, shit." But going back now would ruin the cool image he'd build for himself back there. He sighed, he'd just have to see the Old Man later. But for now, he supposed he could go for a walk, that was assuming no fangirls decided to play tag with him.
Haruto instantly regretted that decision the moment he saw a horde of girls waiting for him, eyes with hearts and they were staring right at him. Balking, he fled. "Eep!" He didn't know chicks were this crazy—Sakura was sorta like that but she could control herself better and the Ice Queen was never like that, she always was snappish and cool and composed even though seeing her flustered would be cute—
Stupid hormones, he cursed himself as he jumped off the rooftops—it was just to his luck that most of the fangirls were ninja students and thus, could use chakra and join him on the rooftops on their chase. The Senju glanced around desperately, trying to find a hiding place. He spotted a particularly silent street—even though he found it odd since the villagers bustled around in other streets—and jumped onto it, darting behind an alleyway, holding his breath and hoping that the girls would just give up already.
They did, he heard grumbles and hesitance when they faced the street he was hiding in. When they left, Haruto was acutely aware of the eerie silence and no matter how much he strained his ears, he could only hear his own heartbeat and the rush of his blood, still excited and pumped full of adrenaline from the earlier chase. He wondered if this part of town was abandoned because it was haunted. But the whole place was large and who died here to cause so many evacuations?
Haruto stepped out of the alleyway cautiously. He turned, feeling a familiar chakra approaching him, only to meet a steely coal-colored glare.
"Senju," Makoto spat with venom, stepping out of the shadows. "What are you doing here?"
"I should be asking you that," Haruto snorted, placing his crossed hands behind his head as was his habit. He studied their surroundings, he didn't need anybody to tell him that the place was truly haunted; he could just imagine the people once living here laughing, breathing and most definitely alive. "This place is creepy y' know that? Wondered who died here to leave such a presence— "
"My family died here," Makoto practically snarled, whirling on him, her short cropped hair flying around following the movement of her head. Her glare turned a thousand times deadlier and if looks could kill, he would've been dead. "Now that you've satisfied some stupid curiosity or dare that your friends gave you—get out of my land; go back to where you Senju… people dwell."
Haruto was stunned silent before he realized he'd trespassed on forbidden territory—both literally and figuratively—and his mind was desperately working for a way to salvage the situation. "No," he protested weakly when Makoto advanced on him, her fist clenched, her teeth grounded. "It wasn't a dare or a joke or to satisfy my curiosity either! I was running away from fangirls. I'm sorry," he mumbled, lowering his voice when he realized he'd raise his voice midspeech. "I didn't mean to, um, hurt you."
"You're not hurting me," Makoto cut in sharply, her arms crossed as she looked at the empty streets consisted of building weathered by age and lack of use. No one was taking care of it properly, Makoto alone probably couldn't clean the whole place though why she didn't just hire people to clean it… "You're just ruining the memory and the peace."
Peace? Haruto scanned the area, he didn't live here like Makoto did and yet he already felt the suffocating presence and overwhelming memories of the dead. How could she bear to be here? It was a wonder she was still sane—or maybe she wasn't really that sane. But one thing was sure, there was no peace here.
"Where do you live?" he asked by way of distracting himself from his disturbing thoughts.
Makoto scowled at him as if saying, get out already, but she answered. "The main house."
"Where?"
This time, she did ignore him, storming away with graceful strides; the message that he was not invited into her house was clear but Haruto ignored her. He trailed after her until they reached a particularly large house, connected with smaller branch houses, made of wood and smelled of… he took a long sniff, flowers and cooking?
Burnt cooking. "Er, did you leave the stove on or something?" Makoto looked at him as if he was a freak—most likely because of his enhanced senses—before she disappeared into the house. Moments later, and she still did not emerge, he wandered in. As he was passing by, he saw two open shoji doors that showed them the garden… full of withered plants.
He fave a cry of horror which drew Makoto's attention back to him. She was frowning down at her burnt… whatever coal lump she'd been cooking… food before she looked up and scowled at him. "Who invited you in? Shut up, stop making a fuss in my house and get lost."
"Which do you want me to do?"
Her glare intensified tenfold but as she made no notion of throwing him out of the house, he relaxed and wandered into the garden. "Did you try to take care of this? Man, I'm not going to sugarcoat my words but you suck at gardening. Suck badly. You've got no green thumb."
"Whatever, Flower Boy," Makoto snorted, pulling cooking materials from her bag of groceries and sorting them out on the table before her.
"I'm just telling you, if you can't do it, why do you keep persisting?"
Her retort was sharp and edgy. "Unlike you, I don't give up. My dreams and goals may be far off and seem impossible to reach, but I'm never giving up."
"Why?"
"If I keep giving up, even once I gave up, I wouldn't be here."
Ominous silence followed, Haruto wondered if this was the atmosphere greeting Makoto every time she came back home. No one to welcome her home, no one to ask how her day was and no one to share her problems and cherish the joy. Haruto already felt lonely and was craving the presence of his mother, Zune-nee-san and Ero-sennin even though it had only been a few weeks. How did Makoto felt all those years alone?
It was there and then that Haruto decided Makoto was a very strong person, not just in combat either.
"How do you live as an Academy student?"
He was ignored. But he continued asking mundane questions of her everyday life, futilely but still trying to make up for the years where no one had bothered to ask her anything—how she felt, what she was doing, was she having any fun, is she a good cook?
The last question was easily answered when, five minutes later, the kitchen was once again filled with smoke. Makoto sighed heavily. "I'm never cooking again," she muttered out loud.
"Is what you say to yourself every time you fail terribly at cooking?" Haruto grinned teasingly when she grunted, taking that as an affirmative. He tapped his chin, wondering what he could cook for her. He brightened visibly, when he recalled he can cook a dish without fail. "I'll cook for you!" he volunteered and without waiting for an answer went rummaging around the cabinets to get materials.
"Did I even say yes?" Makoto hissed but she sat down on a dining chair and didn't object as he moved fluidly around the kitchen.
Twenty minutes later, the empty Uchiha household was filled with the delicious aroma of ramen. The smell was heavenly, tp Haruto anyway and he couldn't wait to dig in. He clapped his hands together and exclaimed, "Itadakimatsu!" but stopped when he noticed Makoto's grumpy face. He wondered how anyone could be so depressed before the food of gods. "It doesn't taste as good when it's soggy, you should eat it up quick."
"I hate salty things."
Haruto shrugged. "You'll make an exception once you try this but really, Ichiraku's ramen is even better than this! Someday, I'll get the recipe to their ramen cooking and then I'll be able to—"
"You should be a chef when your dream to be Hokage falls through." Haruto scowled at her statement, noting how she'd used when instead of if, like she doubted he could be anything but Hokage. He was about to retort when he managed to dissect the double meanings in her words and as she continued to eat, he grinned.
"So my cooking is better than expected, eh? Tell ya what, I've been training to cook ramen ever since I first tasted it!" Haruto continued babbling about whatever it was his thoughts landed on, his voice loud and clear and he didn't bother lowering it down, not like he'd be disturbing any neighbors.
Makoto remained silent for the most part, slurping her meal—which was disgustingly salty and torture on her tastebuds but refrained from commenting—and inserting a few scathing remarks here and there, taunting him but the Senju didn't seem to take serious offense. Eating ramen had made him far too cheerful for her to bring his mood down. She was slightly irritated by this but for once, the house wasn't silent and she could almost fool herself into thinking that any moment now, her mother would come in—perhaps back from a teatime session with her friends—and save her from this disastrous meal by cooking her soothing, preferably with tomatoes in it. And then her father would stroll in and kick the Senju-usuratonkachi out of their house and peace at last—
"Hello!" Makoto scowled, batting Haruto's hand away from her face as he tried to draw her attention. "Are you listening to what I've just said?"
"No," she replied flatly, expecting him to take the hint and get out of her sight.
Haruto rolled his baby blue eyes, ignoring her hint and asking, "Why did you keep plants when you can't even take care of them? It's torture to them, you know?"
"Then go put them out of their misery."
"You mean uproot them from here?" Haruto arched a blonde brow before he shook his head. "They're reluctant to leave."
Makoto stared blankly at the Mokuton-user before she turned to the yellow-ish plants in her mother's garden; it was that garden which sustained their crops, they never need to buy vegetables from the store, they all just plucked what they need from her mother's garden. It was strange that she and the usuratonkachi were referring to the plants as if they're real, well, people. Either the Senju had lost a few screws in his head or it was his bloodline limit; she decided it was a little bit of both and settled to listen to what he was babbling on about, it wasn't that she was interested or anything, it's just that what he said sometimes was amusing and she had nothing better to do now.
"... anyway, I was thinking of helping them grow and flourish better here. If I teach you how to care for them better, would you follow my instructions? They're very loyal to their former caretaker, y'know, said it was your mother who had a green thumb."
"I inherited my father's ability to kill plants with a touch," Makoto inserted dryly. When Haruto didn't say anything, she turned briefly to throw him a curious look. "What?"
"Y -you… did you just MAKE a JOKE?" Haruto gasped dramatically. "What happened to the Ice Queen I once knew?"
Her patience was at her limit. "Get out," she said coldly and instantly Haruto shrunk.
"Okay, okay," he conceded, raising his palms up as a sign of defeat. "I won't rile ya up… much but we have plants to save. Come on, watch closely as to what I do now—"
"Do it whenever you're here."
Haruto stared at her, shocked. "Is that an invitation for me to come-and-go as I please?"
"You'd just stroll in here without permission, anyway," Makoto snapped back sharply, turning away to hide the faint blush, silently cursing herself for being so careless with her words. "You might as well do something productive."
Haruto grinned widely. "So you're no longer jealous of me beating Haku?"
"Get out of here, usuratonkachi."
"Oh, damn it-!"
Hiruzen Sarutobi was pleasantly surprised, to say the least, when he saw the two founder clan heirs interacting with little hostility. Sarutobi had always been worried with the Uchiha heiress' mental state, her reclusive nature and her unwillingness to associate with anybody and only concentrated on her hate and revenge on her older brother.
His surprise was bordering on shock when Makoto actually invited the boy to her house—well, not like normal people, but from her actions, it was as good as a welcome translating from Uchiha-speak—and didn't seem hellbent on getting rid of him and his corpse anytime soon.
Sarutobi smiled slightly at the orb where he used to spy on his villagers. He'd been trying to find his grandson Konohamaru who'd run after the Senju after their brief confrontation, but he decided that finding the Senju was easier first since Konohamaru will be looking for him anyway—and when his grandson set his sights on a goal, he was never giving up.
To his surprise however, he'd found the boy hanging out with the Uchiha heiress—it was both a pleasant and unpleasant development. The latter especially so once the council found out about how they were willing to tolerate one another. Toleration—that was how the clan heirs responded to one another even though Haruto had reached out to Makoto, it would take a very, very long time before Makoto would place her trust in Haruto and extend a hand for companionship.
But with the council pushing for an arranged marriage between two extinct clans, the budding friendship would be destroyed. And even if both clan scions were interested in one another that way, the Hyuuga Clan head had already called dibs on the two; Senju marry his older daughter, Uchiha marry his nephew—a Hyuuga Branch Member. Sarutobi nearly snorted at Hiashi's arrogance—what made him think Makoto would marry a Hyuuga, much less a Branch Member?
The arranged marriage had been what Sarutobi had wanted to tell Haruto—and Makoto but he decided to break the news separately in case both of them go berserk at the same time. Sarutobi knew she could easily refuse it since she was her on guardian but Haruto was to be engaged until his mother's say-so. Tsunade didn't particularly like the Hyuugas but even Sarutobi agreed that Hinata was a sweet girl and someone the blonde woman would like as her daughter-in-law. Besides, Sarutobi already knows a crush the Hyuuga girl had for the Senju boy. It would be perfect, unless of course, Haruto liked Makoto better.
From what Sarutobi can gather from his mentors—Hashirama Senju and Tobirama Senju—the older Senju brother actually enjoyed Madara Uchiha's company. Haruto seemed to have inherited his altruistic genes and his fondness for Uchihas that are considered a lost cause.
Sarutobi waved his hand over the orb, distorting the image of Makoto and Haruto, bickering about something trivial. For the sake of Makoto and the extinct clans, he wished that the Senju-Uchiha marriage will go through, that way, Makoto would not leave the village and would have more reason to stay in the village, protecting it instead of destroying it.
He just knew she would once she learned of the truth of the Uchiha Massacre. He just hoped it wouldn't come down to that.