Madara Uchiha does not understand why he was to suffer being dragged outside under inclement weather, let the rain drench him from head to toe, make his clothes stick onto his body and then ruin his hair. His companion might argue otherwise that there is nothing to ruin with his hair; that his hair by all means does what it wants and nothing, not even rain, thunder, sun or lightning, could make it change its mind.
It is one of the few arguments Madara loses, and Uchiha pride dictates that he hates losing.
He voices out a mighty protest, contradicted only by the weak tugging of his hand against his companion's, the soft gesture not backing up the vehemence of his words.
His companion simply laughs - and what wonder is it, for Madara to hear that laugh, to know and perceive that this one could laugh like that, like there was nothing wrong in the whole wide world.
Madara wishes he could laugh like that. But what laughter he manages are bereft of mirth and joy and a