Though Nanzan was a world away from the mainland, he remembered Obito–one of his clan’s juniors–meeting the one at the heart of the conflict, one Wei Wuxian. It was brief in the time that the Uchiha had taken part in one of the training consortiums the larger cultivating clans hosted, and certainly an honor, but that hadn’t been what had admittedly drawn him to the youth. Something about him spoke of a portent, as if the boy had been entwined in some great prophecy. But, those days had come to an end before something might’ve come from them, and everything after had been news that had met his ears and clenched his heart. Especially given the fact that the Sunshot Campaign had been an utter disaster that had resulted in much death and travesty for all those involved. He’d felt for Xichen and for the entire Lan clan, but there hadn’t been very much he’d been able to do.
Worse still was considering the fact that his burgeoning love for the elder Jade of Gusu had been flowering for some time.
But, he could do something now. Madara didn’t have to be an ocean apart to simply hear bad news as it came to him, able to protect Xichen from the wiles of the Wen clan that still had its vice on the world in spite of everything they’d exacted, such as the assassination of the Yunmeng Jiang clan years before and all the atrocities before or since. In the creaking confines of the temple, he felt as though he could do something to save the man he loved instead of allowing him to sink away into the waves of obscurity. While that fact might’ve brought him peace once, some part of Madara simply felt wretched at how long it’d taken him to do something to save this man. That he hadn’t been there when Xichen had been enduring the most wretched part of his life hooked into his heart and pulled until it bled. Madara listened to the Lan solemnly while he slowly chewed his food, each morsel feeling as though it could disintegrate into ashes in his mouth at the recollection he’d only heard about; and that’s what he kept doing. Hearing of this past, but being unable to truly do anything about it.
“When I heard overseas of what became of you and your sect, your clanmates, and those involved… I did fear the worst, and yet–” the Uchiha trailed away as he closed the distance between them with a hand extended to cup Xichen’s cheek, a soft sigh uttered. “I should’ve done more, Xi-kun. This… it’s picking up the pieces. The Uchiha might not have been part of the triumvirate, or truly responsible for what became of the Jiang’s boy, but I wish there could’ve been something we might’ve done. Support, supplies, something–” Madara wasn’t so self-deprecating that he’d turn Xichen’s hardest time into some egotistical journey into his own failings, not when just being there was far better than abandoning the Lan to his suffering and self-exile. Concern was what weighed the heaviest in his chest, of that fear that he could’ve been too late. Truly, he doubted the man was in the right shape to take the unprecedented journey to Sanzan, but healing along the way could at least secure a place within the next township.
As far as Madara was concerned, Xichen needed to see a doctor. Even if was just to indulge his worries, he didn’t doubt that aside from how undernourished he was entailed something severe. Maybe not disease in its most concentrated form, but something. Treatment couldn’t come through just regaining weight or speaking one’s way through their ills, but proactively working through them. More than that, Madara knew that the day would come that there would have to be a reckoning of some kind. At the mention of Xichen wanting his happiness, however, the Uchiha was jarred from his reverie and he smiled softly. Those words were so seraphic when the Lan said them, and Madara craned close to press a tender kiss to Xichen’s forehead, over his clan’s band that bore some measure of possessiveness on Madara’s end. Maybe because, if he was honest, he had a selfish desire to be the one who had the sole right outside of Xichen’s immediate family to touch it, to remove it, to make it his.
Madara shook away the unchaste thought, returning to his place as his eyes lingered into the stew. “I think seeing you recover and become strong again is all I can ever want. What I do want.” Liar, he berated himself internally. How sick is it that I feel myself delight in this? That I can Xichen all to myself and not share him? He’s dead to world, but not to me. He can be mine and mine alone. It was a depraved line of thinking to have, but he felt a feral kind of satisfaction and vindication at the fact that it wasn’t untrue. Though he’d never keep Xichen from his family or the world he’d ever known, how could he? Madara understood the profound weight of love one had for his clan, his sect, his family, but this was different. It was human and selfish, and Xichen had withdrawn from the world. It didn’t have to have him any longer, but Madara could. Like the greed of a dragon, he could have this Jade all to himself. His to protect, his to cherish, his to love.
It brought more reassurance than the idea of Xichen recovering, and it didn’t make him as nauseous as it should’ve.
“In time, I think you’ll start to want things for yourself, too. Better things. Whatever you could want, Xi-kun,” Madara insinuated vaguely, but not insincerely. If Xichen wanted to return to his clan, Madara would ensure it happened. If he simply wanted to remain in Nanzan forever, to become Madara’s cultivation partner… nothing would make him happier. But, selfishness could only be exacted so much before it could become overwhelming. Before it became monstrous and unrelenting. Oh, but wasn’t he already there? Wasn’t he already some demon borne from the shadows willing to sink into the hells of the earth for this man, even if all it rewarded him with was a smile? That fire burned thick and sludgy in Madara’s chest, like burbling magma ready to erupt at any time. Lifting his gaze, he studied Xichen’s comely visage covetously, though outwardly, he appeared soft and fond.
“Seeing you smile again is all I want in this world and the next, Xi-kun.”
As Madara speaks, the sect leader continues to eat in silence, each action slow and controlled despite how underfed he had been. It proves difficult for Zewu-Jun to believe that he had been worth Madara’s continuous efforts to help him, yet he dares not do or speak anything that would otherwise upset the other. Not when what he’d done in the past drove others away from him in one sense or another. He almost feels selfish, relishing in his dear friend’s unwavering care, and for some moments he debates on voicing the question as to why the Uchiha had been going so far for him. This doesn’t happen, however, and only continues to hear out what Madara has to say. No man was immune from tragedy, he’d learned as such at a very young age himself when his own mother had passed and his father began his own self-isolation. His brother hadn’t deserved the trauma he had endured either, yet there’s a small sense of happiness in knowing that at least one of the jades had managed to take a path less strenuous. For Wangji’s happiness, Xichen would have sacrificed anything.
❝ I dare say that in truth, when in the face of a man such as Wen Ruohan, I’m glad that you and your sect did not get involved in the Sunshot Campaign, or any other conflicts. ❞ It’s too easy to imagine what the former Qishan Wen sect chief cultivator would have done if Madara and his sect members had interfered, and the thought alone causes his hands to involuntarily twitch. The Sunshot Campaign wasn’t something anyone should have been dragged into, lives lost when they didn’t need to be. Xichen’s verbal silence about it didn’t prevent his grief over his own fallen clanmates from being shown in other ways, he’d still suffered nightmares from it once in a while, years after it had ended. ❝ Had you gotten involved, I fear he would have slain your own sect members as well. Burned down your home as he did ours. It brings me some solace to know that such an outcome was avoided. ❞ Xichen pauses, eyes briefly slipping shut and head leaning in as the warmth from Madara’s hand spreads. It isn’t hard to miss how the other feels some sort of guilt for not acting sooner, and the Lan Sect Leader hopes that what he says is enough to ease that ache. ❝ Your thoughts for us were more than enough. I dared not ask for more than that. ❞
Unwilling to impose his own troubles onto the man not even a few feet from him, the elder jade focuses on the stew in his hands, finishing it at the pace that the Lans were trained to. Silently does he let Madara speak once more, words oddly difficult to bring voice to for some moments when they came far more easily within the depths of his mind. Happiness wasn’t always something that came naturally, sometimes one had to fight for it when fate had decided to intervene, yet even wishing for someone else’s came at little no cost for Xichen.
How many people had suffered trying to obtain it for themselves?
The thought doesn’t last long, his gaze lifting when the shuffling of dark robes and the figure beside him drawing closer brings him out of his trance once again. At first, Xichen isn’t quite aware of how he had began to stare at Madara, the smile on his face as genuine as it had been in their younger years, and for some moments that’s more than enough to have the jade at a loss for words. The silence he gives only extends when lips press against his forehead, specifically where his forehead ribbon had been wrapped so snuggly. In shock does Xichen feel his lips part, yet no sound emits from them, eyes only briefly widening as he stares incredulously at the Uchiha. The care and other feelings behind the gesture were notable, as if Madara had been trying to show something, yet Zewu-Jun can’t bring himself to voice the question that forms after realizing what had occurred.
Because of this, Xichen needs to take a few moments longer to process what Madara had said, a slightly-reddened, tear-stained face slowly regaining its composure as his gaze finally meets the Uchiha’s once more. ❝ You truly are such a kindhearted man, I’m glad it’s you that I met, and that lead your sect members. ❞ Ever-cautious to not fumble over carefully-chosen words, the jade briefly trails off, watching as his dearest friend’s gaze lowers soon after. ❝ Are you sure you are willing to wait so long, though? I might never truly heal.. ❞ Unwilling to be dishonest, Xichen attempts to make the question as positive as it can become, knowing well that such a thing could be disheartening for anyone. Setting the bowl down in a spot it wouldn’t risk being shattered, the Lan settles back down in a more comfortable position, a hand subconsciously raising to meet the spot where lips had been pressed just moments ago, his mind still attempting to comprehend the meaning behind such a tender gesture.
When it wasn’t his sworn brothers by his side, nor Wangji and the rest his sect, Madara had been the one to occupy that spot, unhesitantly joining him through thick and thin without so much as a complaint. Xichen isn’t oblivious to the way his heart had hammered within his ribcage with every - nearly overwhelmingly - caring touch and every warm-hearted word spoken, of how he always found himself soundlessly craving to be closer with him, alleviate any struggles that the Uchiha may have been keeping silent over after how much Madara had sacrificed for the sake of wanting Xichen to return to how he was. A hand eventually lifts, mimicking Madara’s earlier gesture as his palm gently, with only slight hesitation, meets the other man’s cheek. ❝ What I desire is to see my loved ones happy and thriving. At least back then, if it had meant sacrificing my own, I would have given everything so gladly. Most of the things I want cannot so easily be handed to me. ❞ Perhaps it had been some deep, unvoiced desire of his to be loved in the same way Xichen had loved those around him. To be held, watched over and cared for as he had done for others. Zewu-Jun always had trouble bringing voice to these desires, unwilling to sound selfish with his ever-giving, never-receiving nature. Drawing his hand back once more, he takes the open spot to Madara’s immediate right, hands settling to rest in his lap. Head tucking to rest against a broad shoulder to his left, Xichen is careful not to impede the man’s ability to eat the stew he’d taken the time to prepare while nonetheless leaning into his side.
❝ I feel truly lucky to have you here with me. ❞
