Dinner.

Madara returned to his cabin deep in the forest, but nearby Forks—the familiar scent of nature and mud greeting him like an old companion.

The sun was beginning to darken below the trees, casting shadows as he slid the door shut behind him, entering the cabin and immediately sensing the subtle awareness of eyes on him.

Carlisle Cullen—the man who had once been a lost pup—had now firmly settled in Forks with a family bound not by blood, but by choice. A family of vampires who did not drink human blood, rather animal blood.

He moved to the rocking chair by the window and sat down, the gentle creak echoing in the cabin.

His mind wandered: What now? No job—not like he needed one. He was, in fact, rich. Very much so. But he didn't use that wealth.

A soft knock interrupted his thoughts.

He barely flinched, already knowing the visitor's identity before the door opened—but he wouldn't have flinched even if he didn't.

A figure appeared—his Shadow Clone, a perfect copy of Sasuke Uchiha, complete with the signature spiky black hair and black eyes.

The clone offered a small, respectful bow as it entered cabin and closed doors but Madara mercilessly dispelled it with a flick of his hand before it could speak. The clone dissolved into a wisp of smoke, its memories rushing back into Madara's mind in an instant.

No vampires lingered here, except the Cullens, and the Quileute wolves roamed their territory peacefully as always.

Madara was about to return to his thoughts when another knock came—sharper this time, and more insistent.

He stood, expression calm and neutral, and opened the door.

There stood Bella Swan, rain dampening her brown hair and clinging softly to her clothes. Her eyes held a mixture of curiosity and cautious warmth as she smiled gently.

"Hello, Mr. John," she said, tilting her head slightly. "My father sent me here to invite you to our home for dinner. Would you come?"

Madara's gaze flicked past her, noting the slight movement near the threshold inside his cabin. Another presence—calm, silent, and watching. His eyes ignored that "ant" as he glanced back at Bella.

Bella continued, her cheeks faintly flushed with curiosity—but not out of love or anything romantic, rather asking about a boy, a stranger.

"And I have another question. I saw a boy around here… maybe early twenties? Black eyes? Spiky black hair with bangs. And quite tall. Is he your son? Nephew? He had a similar aura… kind of cold. A bad boy vibe." she said as she leaned right beside his shoulder if he will seen him in the cabin,but see nothing and leaned back,standing straight

Madara's face was calm as he ignored the question, not bothering to deny or confirm. The boy in question was his clone, in the appearance of Sasuke—his shadow clone, and not even remotely human.

His voice was calm, clipped, and neutral. "An invitation… to Charlie's house?"

She nodded, her eyes brightening. "Yes."

Madara paused, calculating. He had nothing better to do, and the company of humans—even if limited—wasn't something he wanted, in fact… but sometimes, it was interesting.

"Very well," he said, his tone cold but accepting.

Bella blinked in surprise, not expecting such a straightforward response. "Even my father… he thought you might refuse."

Madara gave a faint nod. "I have no reason to." Bored.

She smiled again, more openly this time. "Good. We'll see you then."

As Bella turned to leave, Madara, without hesitation, closed the door with a click.

He sat back in the rocking chair and…

An hour later.

He was in front of Charlie's house, this time in a suit—his "John" appearance through Transformation Jutsu. Elegant clothes, tailored by chakra.

He approached the door and knocked. He heard footsteps, and of course, Bella opened it.

"Finally. It took you some time, but so-so, it's still warm food, John." She smiled a little as she stepped aside, and Madara entered, analyzing the house.

She called out, "Charlie! John is here."

And Charlie's response was a grunt and he said loudly

"Really? I thought he was fucking with me, getting my hopes up.""Charlie, language! You were quite polite before," Bella scolded.

"Well yeah, but I was really that surprised." He coughed, trying to hide the awkwardness, while Madara watched like a statue—unamused.

Bella continued, "Well… dinner is ready in the kitchen."

Madara, without words, entered the room as Charlie and Bella followed and each took a seat.

The kitchen was modest. The overhead light buzzed softly. The smell of pan-fried fish and buttered vegetables filled the air—simple fare, but well-cooked. Bella had clearly done most of the work, the telltale signs of her preparation evident in the arrangement of utensils and the still-warm stovetop.

Charlie cleared his throat. "Well… welcome to our house."

Madara didn't respond, but nodded.

Bella attempted a smile, trying to bridge the silence. "I wasn't sure you'd come. Like Charlie said… you don't seem like the dinner type."

"I'm not," Madara said plainly. "I was bored. So, I arrived."

Charlie raised an eyebrow. "You're cold but… somewhere between polite and blunt as always, John."

Madara looked at him with unreadable eyes like it wasn't new knowledge. "Yeah."

Awkward silence fell like mist. Forks had its quiet, but this was heavy. Bella quickly filled the plates, setting one before Madara—fish, vegetables, mashed potatoes.

He didn't eat immediately.

"You don't have to wait," Bella said with a little shrug. "It's not a dinner party, you know."

Still, Madara didn't move. "I am observing," he said.

Charlie frowned. "Observing what, exactly?"

Madara didn't look at him. "How two people with completely different energies remain bound by routine."

Charlie muttered under his breath, "Jesus…"

Bella chuckled—but not unkindly. "You talk weird sometimes."

"I talk precisely," Madara replied. Then finally, he took up his fork and ate a bite—slowly and neatly.

After a moment, Bella asked casually, not letting it slide, "So… that boy I saw earlier in the woods. The one who looked like he walked out of a manga?"

Charlie perked up slightly. "Boy?" He gave Bella a knowing glance, misunderstanding.

She ignored his face and nodded. "I told you, Charlie. Asian. Black eyes. Black spiky hair. Cold aura. Total lone-wolf vibe."

Charlie gave Madara a sharp look—jokingly. "You got company up there in the woods, John?"

Madara deadpanned and didn't flinch. "No. What you saw was likely a trick of the forest. Shadows take shape when stared at too long."

Bella gave him a skeptical look. "He bowed as he entered, then disappeared into the cabin. I didn't see clearly, but that's a pretty specific shadow."

Madara offered a calm response, as usual. "Then perhaps your imagination is more vivid than you give it credit for."

Bella narrowed her eyes slightly, intrigued but unsure whether to push. "Huh… okay."

The rest of dinner went mostly quiet—Bella occasionally chatting, Charlie occasionally grunting, and Madara answering only when necessary.

After the plates were cleared, Charlie leaned back. "So, John. You ever think of getting a job? Joining society a little? You could join me as a sheriff. I know your skills… what was it? Martial arts, yes. And you are intelligent. But it's not that easy to be sheriff just because someone wants to."

Madara didn't look at him. "I do not require occupation."

"Yeah? What do you do all day up there? Besides brood and stare into trees?"

"I think."

Charlie snorted. "Figures."

Bella interjected softly, "Thinking isn't such a bad thing, Charlie."

Madara finished his glass of water and placed it down carefully. "It's only dangerous when people stop doing it."

Charlie leaned back with a grunt. "And you're just full of wisdom, huh?"

"No," Madara said without blinking. "I'm full of time."

Bella tilted her head, eyes confused. "That's… actually kind of poetic."

Madara stood. "Thank you for the meal."

Charlie looked up at him. "You barely touched your pl—" He looked at the plate. It was empty.

"…"

"I ate enough." He looked at Bella. "Thank you for delivering the invitation."

Bella nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're welcome."

Without another word, Madara turned and walked toward the door.

Before he exited, Charlie called out, "Hey, John…"

Madara stopped but didn't turn.

"You may not need company…" Charlie said, "But that doesn't mean you gotta walk through life like a goddamn ghost."

Madara was silent for a long moment before finally replying, "I'm not a ghost, Charlie. Ghosts are dead things clinging to life."

He opened the door. The wind stirred outside. "I am human, like you."

And then he closed the door.

Only the sound of rain outside remained.