#hashirama fanfiction

[uh-oh-its-bird]

There are so many naruto time travel fics out there but what I need SPECIFICALLY is an ANBU era team of Kakashi, Tenzo, Itachi, and Shisui getting flung into the founders era.

Like. Ok just looking from the political side of it that's;

A) 2 very young and VERY powerful Uchiha's (one of which is the future clan head!! Politics!!)

B) A very fucked up baby mokuton user who's still in the middle of being deprogrammed and can totally pass for Senju

C) The free wild card that is Hatake clan lore on top of having a stolen sharingan. On top of *that* him being the team leader of a team of kids who, in the time period context, should both be at eachothers throats and probably not be expected to obey the commands of someone not only from another clan but a way smaller one

Theres SO much potential there!! So many political implications in virtually ALL of the directions!!!!

Yk what as I'm typing this out I'm having ✨️ideas✨️ so let's make some story points to sort those out:

• I think itd be neat to have this happen like. A year? Ish? Before the massacre? So age wise, and full disclaimer I'm referencing Google and Wikipedia rn so I could totally be wrong, I think that's :

Kakashi (18)

Tenzo (17)

Itachi (12)

Shisui (15)

Could be wrong about the ages but honestly it's my world you're just living in it, so.

Then me going totally purely off of my own headcannons, were going to say they came in a about a year before Izuna died and place the founders ages as:

Madara (23)

Hashirama (23)

Izuna (19)

Tobirama (18)

Big fan of Tobirama being the youngest between the 4 but projecting the aura of someone as old as like. Idk, however old Madara is. Very funny to me, 10/10

• I'm personally a big fan of dogteeth kakashi so we're running with that all the way home. Also a huge fan of the "Hatake's are a distant, more feral cousin of Inuzuka clan" hc along with some sprinklings of "back in the day they had a bit of a Reputation(tm) for being a 'lill wild, and everyone generally tries to avoid them. Which isn't too much of a problem because theyre a very small out of the way clan from Iron, they just have a big reputation in contrast to their size.

In more modern times tho, along with (obviously) having dwindled down to a single depressed teenager, they've become a lot tamer over the years due to village life. Kakashi is a Hatake, 100%, but he is NOT up to the standards of this time. Which becomes a bit funny when people see him, go "oh FUCK it's a Hatake" and then start edging slowly towards the door like he's about to rip their throat out with his teeth. Meanwhile he's standing there like 🧍‍♂️"am I that ugly."

Give me a scene where, finally used to this reaction to him from the general shinobi population, the team starts to use it to their advantage.

"Give us the scroll or we'll let the Hatake off the leash to have his fun with you. He's been awfully hungry latley you know, hasn't had fresh meat in days"

Kakashi, feeling kind of stupid, gave his best growl.

It caused an almost immediate, embaressed flush to rise to his face, but he didn't let up. It sounded more like an almost pathetic puppy growl than anything to his ears, but apparently it was enough to convince the trembling enemy nin because he slowly lifted the scroll up in offering.

Wow. Now he couldn't tell if he was embaressed for himself or for this guy.

Probably both to be honest.

• So like. Itachi is the clan heir. That's big. That's important. Let's do something with that.

First off, I had a great time reading this one fic (tho I don't even remember what the fic itself was about now, oops) where a plot point of it was how Sasuke is just a walking stereotype of main house Uchiha. Like people look at him and they don't just go "oh that's an Uchiha." They go "oh fuck that's an UCHIHA Uchiha." He's so fucking painfully, obviously related to the very tippy top of the clan that anyone not blind can tell. It's in the way he looks, it's in the way he talks and treats those around him, it's in the way he fucking holds himself. You look at him and every other stereotype about the Uchiha clan is there in big, bold letters. (On top of that he's also a dead wringer for Izuna, which I'm such a sucker for and desperatley wish people would do more with)

So like let's give that to Itachi here because it's so fun for several reasons.

First off; Sasuke in this is like. Straight up a doppelganger of Izuna, just a few generations apart. They could be twins. Itachi, as I'm sure you are aware, is Sasuke's big brother. So let's take some liberties and say that Itachi could absoloutley pass as a blood sibling to Izuna and Madara.

He is however 12, so we're also going to say that the only people who get to make this connection is anyone who's seen the siblings when they were also at a similar age.

On top of that however he has the 'walking amalgamation of all the stereotypes of the main Uchiha house' so anyone who isn't blind will look at him and assume he's somewhere in the sphere of 'important main house person' tho who really knows how distant the relation may be exactly. No one !! That's who !!!

Second; He's the fucking clan heir!! What the fuck!! This bit would have the most impact after all the messy time travel reveals when things have settled down a bit, so it'll sit in the back pocket for a bit. Save it for some fun shaking up later down the line so we don't run out of all the fun reveals too fast and bore the readers, yk?

When it is brought up tho it'd be fun to maybe have some fucky Itachi and Madara mutual understandings of the way things work.

• So. Madara is like a bit of a scary bed time story to Uchiha children, right? Like. "Ooo make sure you don't get too obsessive or fall too deep into your grief and always stay loyal to the village or you'll end up just like Madara!!"

Something something Uchiha-Village relationships are tense as hell, something something Madara fucking over a lot of the clan with his whole. Everything., Something something scapegoat and old stories, something something 'people have probably been talking a lot more about how "god dammit this all started with Madara" in recent years.'

Now with that in mind let's take a look of what our time travelers think of Madara:

Itachi is a good Konoha soldier. Itachi (as has been very much fucking proven) would rather beat a possible problem before it even exists with a hammer till it dies an ugly bloody death than even RISK it blossoming into a proper problem. Itachi does not like Madara. Itachi personally, quietly thinks they should maybe wait till the village is formed then carefully arrange a little accident for him before he goes off the rails. He, even more quietly, maybe even thinks it would be a kindness. Allow him to be remembered well by the village instead of scorned.

Shisui I think is cautiously optimistic about him. He's the kind of guy who gives the benefit of the doubt, who weighs the options, risk and reward, but includes things like hope and compassion in his calculations. Yes, Madara was a uhh. Thing. That happened. But in every story his big blow up always come from one specific event; Izuna's death. So if they stop that from happening, wouldn't it secure both a better future for them and Madara? The history books never went into detail about Izuna, he doesn't know what he's like, but maybe his involvement in the future, on Konoha's side, could lead to even more profits for them long term. At the end of the day he's not against killing Madara (though to be clear, they are at first operating on trying to avoid all interactions with historical events and return home without touching things) but it'd be nice, to manage to get a happy ending for everyone. Unrealistic maybe, but nice.

Mmmm hear me out actually, maybe Shisui, after interacting with him a bit, finds that Madara reminds him of Itachi too. They definatley both have that "I would do unspeakable things to even dream of my loved just one more time" energy, if you know what I mean

Anyways; Kakashi and Tenzo are both neutral on Madara. Yes, they learned about how he betrayed the village when young just like everyone else, but they weren't getting the bed time stories and "do this and you'll end up just like him" warnings like the Uchiha's. They're possibly leaning into negative but are detached from the situation enough to just go "well he hasn't done it yet and his brother is still alive so he won't any time soon" and be done with it

• Now, on the the total opposite side of the spectrum you have Hashirama and Tobirama. People are brought up in Konoha to fucking IDOLIZE these guys. You can not tell me our team of time travelers wouldn't be at least a little awed to speak with them.

I think Tenzo would be the most wide eyed about Hashirama, both for the baseline "holy shit that's the Shodai Hokage" and also that fun juicy mokuton user imposter syndrome he has going on for him. That guys DNA is inside his body!!! Holy shit wait does that mean if someone did a blood relation test with them he might read as being related to him?? Fuck were gonna pocket that for now but like. Mmmmm potential.

I'd say Itachi is the most hesitant about Tobirama but again, village loyalist, so.

You know what tho maybe Shisui is the most hesitant about him (though still largely positive) he both def grew up looking up to him but can also see the anti-Uchiha policies people inact now with the implications that Tobirama would have approved of it. He doesn't know if he would, but like, he has to wonder.

Kakashi is probably the most normal about them (and also has experience in being close to a hokage (Minato) to know that at the end of the day they are painfully human) Don't get me wrong, he's still in some sort of awe! He might get a little lightheaded at the thought of seeing the God of Shinobi in proper battle, or the possibility to see the famed genius of Tobirama with all the different jutsu's he's invented. You can't tell me Kakashi didn't spend a little extra time reading about him when he was trying to make Chidori. Honestly I'm gonna roll with that and say he had a bit of a phase as a kid where he was a total fan boy. Maybe sprinkle in the good old HalfHatake!Tobirama hc to add some faint daydreams a lonley babykashi had after his father's death, about getting to meet him as family. Like cmon, little genius idolizing and projecting on some big history figure only to find out they're actually related? Can you say potential?

Anyways he did eventually grow out of the phase, probably got unattached to it all and lost interest after the whole "losing everything he loved" bit of his life. And at the end of the day, he doesn't have any real complex personal hang ups on the founders like the others do. Thus, most normal.

• And then my favorite most special boy, Izuna !! He's for sure the one they're all most neutral about. He's not actually taught about in the academy? There's probably some throw away line about him in some history books somewhere, but he died young and was quickly buried by the looming shadow of Konoha. The only real knowledge had about him in modern times is just a vague "Yeah he got killed by Tobirama which lead to peace being made but also lead to Madara losing his shit"

Poor Izuna he's the linchpin for it all but was left an unremarkable footnote of history. My boy deserves so much better

Tenzo doesn't actually even know who he is, that boy got bare minimum education under Danzo and Izuna was NOT included.

Itachi and Shisui mmmaybe have some small little fun fact here or there buried in stories from the older members of the clans but like. It's gonna amount to just "yeah he had a great katon" and thats about it.

I WILL SAY HOWEVER. Itachi sees him and instantly is that one PTSD dog meme. Sasuke is a BABY but holy shit Izuna looks exactly like he'd expect him to grow up as and it's making him FEEL THINGS. Also he's so bratty little brother coded !! He's an entire 7 years older than Itachi but Ifachi keeps fucking up and trying to big brother him it's embaressing.

And ofc Itachi didn't go into the first meeting thinking he'd see some weird older mirror version of his beloved baby brother who he misses and worries about very very much. So like. There's for sure going to be some conflict there. If their first meeting is a scuffle (which it probably will be) I think Itachi would keep hesitating to attack. On full run away mode. Which is probably for the best bc he shouldn't try to fight Izuna anyways honey he's like double your bodyweight and you're strong but you aren't THAT strong.

• Pointing back at both the 'Itachi does not like Madara and has quiet thoughts about how it'd possibly be in everyone's interest to just kill him' and the 'Itachi and Madara quietly bond over being clain head/heir during stressful times (w pressure from the elders especially)

I can see 2 outcomes of a potential bonding conversation with them:

1) They come to understand eachother better.

Madara wants to be on good terms, he looks at this kid and sees one of his brothers eyes and the others quiet determination. He can tell Itachi doesn't like him for some reason, and it's frustrating because he doesn't know why. He wants him to like him. He wants to be able to offer his hand and have it taken. It hurts, to be looked at with such suspicion from a face that has traces of Izuna's.

Meanwhile Itachi . . . Itachi looks at Madara and he sees someone who gets it. Gets it like no one ever has. It scares him. He looks up at this man, this horror story he's been told to fear becoming, and he sees himself. And this realization shakes him. It makes him think, makes him wonder. He's so, so sure of his loyalty to Konoha. More sure than he is of anything else in the world. But . . . But if something happened to Sasuke, if he had to choose—

And maybe it softens something in him too, along with the (honestly healthy) dose of fear. It forms a little crack in his shell, just enough to maybe, maybe let Madara through. Just a hair.

Or 2) we pull one of those "The conversation ends with them agreeing verbally but mentally they're on 2 VERY different notes."

Madara, nodding and looking at Itachi meaningfully: "Yeah it can be hard, but all we can really do is try to make the world a safer place for the ones we love. (To create Konoha, to keep my clan safe. Izuna safe. And now to keep you safe too.)

Itachi, nodding slowly: "Yeah. No matter how hard it is (even though I think I understand you more than anyone else Ive ever met) we have to try to make the world a safer place (by killing you in your sleep once Konoha is formed) for the ones we love (My clan. My village. Sasuke.)"

• Also pointing back at the 'Hatake warring clan era reputation,' the 'Tobirama is half Hatake' and also now pointing at Tobirama's title as the White Demon. Small thing but it'd be neat if there was some small throw away line that the nickname lowkey started in part because of the absoloutley terrifying reputation of the Hatake combined with Tobirama's own Everything(tm) like it just had some influence on how some view him. Give me Uchiha's making dog jokes ab him it'll be funny

• Ok but now the actual plot thoughts. Yeah I know I kept you waiting sorry about that.

So time travel! Probably due to a mission gone wrong. Some ruins or some ancient crumbling scroll that wasn't even supposed to do fucking time travel but was so old and corroded that it somehow managed to transform into a whole other seal by pure bad luck. Or good luck I guess, considering it could have just turned into a nuke.

Our favorite team of disasters are very very alarmed !!! What the fuck !!! Obviously they don't default to thinking time travel, but they immediatley know something is wrong. The landscape has changed, though the big landmarks are still there. The mission was complete anyways with no injuries so they just retreat to Konoha. Only oops !! It's not fucking there!!!

Queue alarm.

Shisui is the first one to suggest time travel because he's quirky like that. And there's a very easy way to confirm this theory.

(Also we're going to say that Konoha's location is a valley a few miles out from the Naka River that borders the Senju / Uchiha territories.)

This is convenient because that verification method involves checking in on where Itachi and Shisui know the old Uchiha compound should rest.

They do it in full stealth mode, the second they saw Konoha was missing Kakashi as team leader decided they'd treat the land as enemy territory. They all agreed ofc, for all they knew this WAS enemy territory now.

And, ofc, yeah!! There's the old Uchiha compound!! Being active!!! There are people there!!!

"What are the odds Fugaku-sama decided to have the clan return to their homeland for ahh, cultural enrichment?" Kakashi asked weakly.

"Time travel." Was the only reply he got from Shisui, whispered reverently as the boy vibrated with excitement on the branch.

Itachi just gave him a look, radiating a level of dissaproving disbelief that no normal 12 year old should be able to make. Kakashi would know, he was that not-normal 12 year old once.

From there they decide a no interference policy. Hands off guys!! They probably debate it tho, like, a good amount. They all have ✨️opinions✨️ except maybe Tenzo who's lowkey still in the middle of trying to learn how to be a person and is following Kakashi's lead 99% of the time. Especially since they're still in mission mode and this is like a super serious discussion and he really does know the least ab the founders overall.

They probably debate the merits of going to Uzushiogakure bc seal help but it's really far and they don't actually have like, just any leverage with them. They already decided not to fuck with the future so it isn't like they can trade secrets and warnings. At least if shit happens here they have some plausible deniability, being, yk, 2 uchiha's and a senju-passing guy with Mokuton. Kakashi's kinda fucked tho in that regard but he isn't going to be doing the party ANY favors with his clan heritage.

Which means it's time to potentially get desperate enough to interact with Tobirama !!! Which will inevitably lead to them bumping into a Uchiha patrol or something!!! I don't know honestly

• Anyways want Hashirama and Tenzo to interact. He has so many issues like holy shit. Let Hashirama give him the hug he deserves. I want him to violently adopt him. New brother acquired!!!

I said before but Tenzo is still reprogramming from ROOT. Let Hashirama impact that! Let him help! They can make flower crowns and photosynthesize together idk

Hashirama would be so happy to have another mokuton user, I think they should be able to sense eachother extra strong and like 'ping' off of eachothers chakra, it'll be fun

▪︎ I'm not thinking toooo hard about power scaling and this is fanfiction so a) don't quote me on this and b) for the love of all that is holy don't take my words as gospel

But for this fic specifically I'm ranking the founders and Team Ro, weakest to strongest (in a clean, fair fight head on w no time to prepare) :

Itachi (he's fucking 12 guys. But also he is like. FRACTIONS under Tenzo and Shisui. If he were 13 I'd let him be above or at the same level but like. He's 12. Cmon.)

Tenzo - Shisui (they're like JUST under the next 2 tho like seconds behind)

Izuna - Tobirama

Kakashi ( by the skin of his fucking teeth and the advantage that is his stupid amount of jutsu's and lack of self preservation)

Madara - Hashirama

And again that's not counting like. The specific situations, time given to prepare, potential dirty tricks they could play (I think the Konoha tricks would play a fraction dirtier than the others, who are slightly more used to big open battles vs the ANBU squad who does all sorts of shit in all sorts of places) plus like. Mental state and team ups.

Tenzo or Shisui couldn't take down Izuna or Tobirama but if they teamed up I'd allow it. Kakashi would get his ass kicked by Hashirama or Madara but he could survive a minutes longer than the others would

Itachi is doing his best

But like

He's 12 guys

I love him and he is terrifyingly competent but he won't win 1 on 1 with anyone unless he has some sort of advantage. Minus Shisui and Tenzo who he does have the advantage of regularly fighting, so.

• I think they do get to go back home in the end. It takes a ton of work tho and they probably do need to get Mito's help with it, Kakashi can show them the seal they got brought here with but it's an ACTUAL one in a trillion miracle it didn't fucking atomize them. So it needs a lot of touch ups

Anyways !!!

I have a little more rattling around in my brain but I'm really tired and also starting to think about other things now so I'm gonna stop here. Might come back and add to it later so stay tuned if you're into that

Full disclaimer I'm not gonna write this. I don't have the proper energy and it'd probably end up being too ambitious of a project if I tried. I'd love to see it happen tho, so like !! Big open invitation to absoloutley anyone who might want to take even a fraction of the ideas I've listed.

@ me if you do tho I wanna see the final product

[kakashixhatakesxwhore]

Love Language Headcanons

What I imagine the love languages of Iruka, Kakashi, Itachi (w bonus Hashirama and Madara) to be. GN!Reader, until Madara.

Warnings: lil bit of sexism from Madara (nothing new), fluff, lmk if this sucks

Masterlist💿

Iruka

Words of Affirmation

While he's giddy around lunchtime when he sees the note you left in his box, Iruka much prefers to hear the words of love come from your lips

After a long day, sharing his knowledge and wrangling children, the only thing on Iruka's mind is the sweet, little nothings you would soon be whispering against his ear as you two lay in embrace

Some nights, Iruka would even be known to fall asleep before dinner, in your arms, lulled and comforted by your tone and your words

There's something in the constant reminders of your love for him that keeps him spry, his adventurous spirit engaged

With every syllable of 'forever', Iruka can feel his heart thrum in his chest

Likewise, he will be the first to compliment every outfit, any touch of makeup, or even just your sleep-coated face in the early mornings - he wants you to hear his voice every time you look into a mirror, praising you and adoring you

Nothing will ever stop Iruka from telling you exactly how he feels in a given moment, no audience or situation too embarrassing

In fact, he adores telling you how devoted he is to you with an audience - he wants everyone to know you are completely and utterly his, and he goes weak in the knees when you return his words

Kakashi

Physical Touch

When you're sitting with him, his hand is lightly gripping your thigh, reminding you and everyone else who you came with

He finds he cannot walk without touching you, his arm needs to be over your shoulders or your arm locked into his - even when moving through a crowd, Kakashi will hold onto a bit of your clothing as to not lose you

Every night is spent completely tangled together, a jumbled mess of legs and arms, in and out of the sheets, with you practically on top of him

Even while asleep, if you roll away, Kakashi will lock his arms around your waist, pulling you close for a warm cuddle

He's always kissing you while you're within the sanctity of your shared home, and when he's not, he's rubbing his nose against yours, putting his forehead against yours, or nuzzling against your cheek

Will come to the bathroom with you, if you let him, just to sit on the edge of the tub and shoot the breeze while you pee

Never stops getting tingly and bashful when you touch him, especially in public, so aware of the declaration of together-ness that your touch brought

Kakashi cannot stand when someone else touches you, even your close friends - he's got quite the jealous edge, and you know his hands will be all over where the other person touched you, soon, vying to erase the memory of another from your skin

Itachi

Quality Time

He hasn't got a lot of spare time on his hands, but he feels like he might go insane if he doesn't spend every available second with you

The kind memories warm Itachi in the cold nights, so he is especially keen on making a million with you

Comfortable silence is common, which relaxes Itachi immensely

He wants to be with you fully every time you are together - reading is fun, but he prefers to do anything that distracts from you at, quite literally, any other time

Knowing his hours were numbered, Itachi curses the universe for letting the time spent with you slip away like sand in an hourglass

I suppose time flies when you're having fun, and he has never had such an abundance of fun as when he's by your side

Any activity is a good activity when done together, even ones that Itachi didn't particularly enjoy like laundry or mending clothes - he found he could watch paint dry with you and still enjoy himself thoroughly

Lingers heavily when it's time to say goodbye; he can't do it if he doesn't need to it

Itachi plans three months in the future at the crack of dawn - he can't help but try to optimize the length of the periods he spends with you, somehow being able to schedule entire days to be together

Hashirama

Gift-Giving

Knows exactly what you want, in what colour, in what shape, in what size - to the exact dot.

Hashirama can think of no better way of proving his love for you than proving he knows your material desires inside and out

Some way, some how, he never runs out of ideas of things to get you, and absolutely no price is too steep for something he knows you'll love

His favourite part of showering you in presents is the face of shock and sheepishness, telling you he would go to the Edge of the World if it had the only tree with the fruit you craved

Enjoys giving you things that can be used by both of you, like books, rare spices, hair products, but loves giving you things to wear

Who else can procure a silk dress, with yards of intricate embroidery? Who else can find jewels so large and sparkly? Only Hashirama, thusly marking you as his to anyone with working eyes

But truly, your favourite gifts aren't the adornments, or spices, or a massive house - the gifts that truly enraptured your heart were the handmade cards and drawings Hashirama spent hours perfecting for your eyes only

Madara

Acts of Service

While Madara rarely humoured you with a walk through the sunflower fields, he would consistently ensure that you could go through life without the slightest hint of discomfort

He'll make you a tea in the morning, bringing it to you with a gentle shake of the shoulder to wake you up - it's how you start every day, with a small smile and a steamy drink, reminded that Madara would strive to wake you like this even if the world were actively burning

Going both ways, Madara deeply enjoys it when you prepare dinner for him, and will pitch in with the dishes to show you that he was truly thankful

Women's duties are women's duties, but Madara would do anything you asked of him without hesitation within your home (in public, he'd be much more conscious, however helping you as much as he could while still saving face)

Dotes on you entirely - if you told him you wanted the sky to turn fuchsia, he would be taking to the God of the Skies in an instant

Half the time, you don't even need to ask Madara to do something for you, it'll already be done, and done so perfectly you would be left with no question as to who did it

Every thank you, to Madara, is like you asking for something else, and he will tear the world to shreds until it is just to your liking

[yu-huuuu]

Madara smiled as you nestled your face against his neck. He felt his heart flutter with happiness and tenderness as he heard your giggle while he planted a soft kiss on your head.

His arms wrapped around you as the darkness of the room enveloped both of you, but that didn't even matter to him, not as long as he had you in his arms. The warmth of your body pressed against his lulled him to sleep along with the gentle scent of your silky hair.

Madara scoffed at how ridiculous this whole situation was. The man who lead the grand Uchiha clan, the man who could defeat tailed beasts with just his eyes... was defeated by the warmth and tenderness of your embrace.

"Madara", your soft and sweet voice like honey called out to him from the dimness of his sleep, successfully pulling him away from the reverie you had put him in.

He hummed unwilling to pull away from you, simply not wanting to let go of your warmth. His cold hands warmed with the touch of your back. His heart, which sometimes he felt stopped beating, now beat softly and so wonderfully against his chest, making him feel alive after not being by your side all day.

The soft touch of your hand against his cheek caused him to open his eyes, meeting your gaze that looked at him without any fear. Obsidian met the rich color of your eyes. Madara felt his chest flutter. Unconsciously he leaning his head more towards the warmth of your hand, trying to enjoy your touch as much as he could.

"Madara"

There it went again, his name coming out of your soft lips making his ears feel warm. He leaned in trying to meet your eyes. "Yes?"

"Wake up"

He remained silent for a moment, completely confused about what you meant. "What?"

"Please, wake up", you pleaded as your precious eyes were filled with unshed tears.

"I... I don't understand"

"Madara, please wake up, this can't go on like this"

.

.

.

.

.

"Madara... I'm dead"

.

.

.

.

"Please... wake up"

.

.

.

"Wake up"

…

Madara woke up from his dream.

Feeling again like a dead man longing for the warmth of a woman who was also dead.

...

fluff and angst? yes please

[wing-ed-thing]

Foul Creature (Tobirama x Reader) Chapter IX

Synopsis: The territory between the Uchiha and the Senju dwindles by the day. And in an era where social lines have been blurred, and new clan heads have been chosen, you're stuck between a scorned lover and a man who relentlessly pursues your hand in marriage. You don't have much time before you're forced to confront the sins of your past.

Word Count: 6.8k

Tags/Warnings: Warning for dark themes ahead, including tags for blood and descriptions of gore. Fem!Uchiha!Reader. Please consult AO3 for more specific warnings.

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX Part X Part XI

Notes: Hopefully we can wrap all this up soon... god willing... but hey this piece finally has somewhat of a direction (?) now.

An Uchiha warrior with a fatal wound should give his life in a suicide attack, but not Izuna. No, the brother of Madara would not die a warrior’s death on the battlefield. Instead, the Uchiha retreated from their path to the northern shoulder, surrendering the territory to the Senju in a victory their rivals would call “The Conquering of King’s Neck.”

The Uchiha returned suddenly, earlier than they should have, and having lost great numbers. Madara did not use the village gates but shot right over the sharpened walls like a deranged comet falling from the sky. He carried Izuna’s body in his arms, holding his brother close to his chest. Both were covered in blood and heavy wounds. They had been the first to arrive, heralding in the news of their defeat without a single word of it uttered.

Madara shouted for medical assistance loud enough to startle the entire settlement, and in a blur of confusion, agony, and chaos, Izuna was brought to a doctor, and the two brothers were sealed inside a private room as quickly as the commotion had started.

The entire village stirred to life with urgency. People emerged from their cottages and herded their children out of the street as the rest of the battalion emerged from the forest and trudged toward the front gates.

The men who had stayed behind rushed the injured to the hospital and hurried around the newly returned soldiers to assist in treating their wounds. Women gathered water from the well, ready to help receive the weary soldiers. 

Most injured warriors were gathered in one large room and treated on cots side by side, but not Izuna. Even in the sunlight, gathered citizens could see Madara’s hulking form pace back and forth from inside their private room.

No one else was allowed in except for the best physician in the village, who was currently facing the brunt of Madara’s furious rage. You could hear the clattering of furniture and thrown items hitting the mat floor from down the road. 

You clutched your medicine pack, shouting and shoving through the crowd as you approached the triage.

“Make way for the apothecary!” 

You came running as soon as you received word. The medics who went to the scene before you had their own medical packs with prepared remedies within them, but if the medics were to perform treatments on such a large group of men, they would need all the medicines they could get. 

Madara had, after all, forbidden you from creating more heavy-duty remedies in anticipation of a victory for the Uchiha. He told you that fast-acting cures would be all that would be needed and did not discriminate when it came to potency. The high ground belonged to the Uchiha, and Madara himself formulated their strategy for the ambush. But Madara was left with little more than the taste of defeat and bloodied hands after the battle. 

You hurried across the dirt path, the dry pebbles and earth making hurried scratching noises below the soles of your sandals. You clutched your oversized medicinal bag. The material wasn’t strong enough to carry the number of remedies you had shoved haphazardly inside. Your eyes were set on the treatment center where the soldiers were being taken. The little time you had was crucial for saving as many lives as you could.

Time seemed to slow as you ran past the paper door leading to Izuna’s private room, and you failed to notice the large hand that shot out from inside until it had grasped the back of your robes and pulled you in. 

You were thrown onto the woven matt floor with barely enough time to break your fall, let alone catch your compilation of medicines. You skidded against the hard surface, ripping the cloth on your shoulder as the fabric folded under you with the motion. Your arms wrapped against your oversized pack, and the glass bottles rattled against one another as you held them close to your chest.

Madara stood over you: hulking, broad, impeding, and crazed, but still as he slowly slid the paper door shut. His palm splayed out in the middle of the door, leaving a streak of crimson across the delicate white material. The air dried the red color into a muddy rust.

An unmoving, pale hand appeared in your peripheral. You scrambled to your knees, grip still clutching your medicinal bag. You hardly recognized Izuna as he lay in front of you.

All color had drained from his cheeks, but you could hardly pay attention to the grayness of his skin in the face of the massive open wound across his stomach. Izuna bled all colors of red, his gash like a gruesome flower clawing out of his torso and streaking across the room. His chest heaved up and down at an inhumanly slow pace, pumping a wheezing sound out of his throat with every strangled breath. Everything smelled of blood, and what used to be an entirely white room was marred with ghastly streaks of gore. 

The doctor worked frantically over him, but even looking at Izuna for a second told you all that you needed to know. His wound was already decorated with herbal remedies, the leaves and ground flower buds a stark, soft contrast to the wet, oozing gash that churned just below. The colors illuminated with an effervescent glow under the light of the doctor’s healing jutsu. 

Izuna’s head fell to the side toward you, your name dripping from his lips in a voice hardly above a whisper. You scrambled to his side, shedding your bag, and scooping his hand up in yours without a thought. 

“Izuna—!” 

Your heart sank into the pits of your stomach, and your face felt numb. Tears flooded your waterline as your pulse started to drum in your ears. One of your hands, now sporting a few streaks of blood that you didn’t notice, came over your mouth in mortified shock.

But even so, Izuna gazed at you fondly. His eyes were lidded, pain written across his face, but he did his best to grasp onto you weakly. You stared widely down at his giant wound, almost hypnotized by the terrible sight of it, before returning to Izuna’s face. Your hand dropped back down to your lap and joined the other in morphing over his palm. 

Your lips parted, but no sound left them. They wavered in the bitter-smelling air as an ugly sound stalled in your throat. You didn’t have it in you to tell him that it all would be okay. He wouldn’t have believed you anyway.

“I do not know what to say…” Your voice came out in a breathless hiss, your lips crinkling upwards as your brows creased together into two wavy lines. 

“I apologize…” Izuna was barely audible, and his words held an incoherent rasp. “The words I spoke to you last were most regretful… and most dishonorable…”

“Izuna, do not speak like this!” Your scolding was less than a whisper.

You looked at the doctor, whose eyes were already on you. Wordlessly, he confirmed your fearful thoughts.

Izuna wasn’t going to—

“How does he appear?” Madara implored. “I demand you tell me. Tell me that you deem him treatable with your remedies!”

Izuna gave your hand a light squeeze. When you looked down at him, two tears fell right onto his blood-stained clothing.

His other hand slowly rose, shaking as he brought it to his face. It stopped, trembling over his neck as Izuna raised his pointer finger. He brought it over his lips. 

The sound of your name boomed across the paper room.

“Why do you fall silent? You are able to revive him, are you not?” Madara thundered frantically. “You told me! You told me of your chakra remedies!” Madara’s hand shot out from behind you but missed your shoulder as his fingers grasped about wildly. You could feel the force of his motion in the air as the slight breeze of his movement rattled the hair behind your ear.

He made another grab for you, and you turned to grasp him by the shoulders as if you were taking a bull by its horns, dropping Izuna’s hand in the process. The metal of Madara’s armor was dirty and solid, pinching your fingers as you tried to keep him at bay as he lunged. He ranted something incoherent, nearly knocking you back into Izuna. Your core tensed, trying to keep yourself from falling back onto Izuna’s open torso as you tried to fight Madara away. 

“Madara, this is madness!” you shouted directly into his face. Your arms were beginning to shake under the weight of him, the locking of your joints being the only thing keeping Madara from pinning you down in his deranged rampage. But the fear and confusion in your gaze immediately widened as you met his gray irises. “Madara! Your eyes!”

“Clan Head, that is enough!” The doctor had since stood, stepping over Izuna’s body to ram into Madara with his shoulder. Your limbs were granted relief as the two of them stumbled back, nearly punching a hole in the paper wall. 

The doctor was not as large of a man as Madara, but he held his own against Madara’s unrestrained rage. His shoulder dug into the right side of Madara’s chest, and the doctor used all his weight to keep him from charging. But he was ultimately not enough to keep Madara restrained. 

Madara shoved him back with a violent push to the doctor’s chest.

“Who are you to cease treatment on my brother?! Who are you to attack your Clan Head— I’ll have you banished for your indiscretion—!”

“Madara, that is enough!” You shot to your feet, placing yourself between the two men. One of your palms splayed across Madara’s chest plate. He continued to scream over your head, gesturing pointedly somewhere behind you. Tears streamed down his face as his skin scrunched up in rage. — “Madara!”

— “You dare to impede me? My younger brother lies dying before my very eyes, and I cannot even see his face! And you dare stand against me when Izuna’s chakra weakens! You are traitors! You are traitors to the Uchiha; I will have you banished and then hunt you down myself— why do you refuse to help my brother? —”

— “Madara, please, I implore you to listen—”

Madara’s hand whipped across your face with enough force to make your ears ring. You fell to the ground with a heavy thud, the power of Madara’s strike making you almost spin as you went down. Your hand shot to your nose, which had begun to bleed. Your blood mixed with Izuna’s.

“Madara, that is enough…” Izuna began to sit up somewhere behind you. He groaned in pain, almost collapsing as he propped himself on one elbow. The doctor was already beside him, urging him to lie back down. But the sound of Izuna’s voice appeared to be enough to sate Madara’s mounting rage. He visibly melted, perking up as he tried to pinpoint where Izuna’s voice came from with a rapid gesture of his head. 

You were lost, hypnotized by the red that dripped from your nose and onto your hand. The droplets were thick and hot, only diluted by the tears of disbelief that seemed to fall in sheets from your eyes. You struggled to gather yourself as Madara knelt by Izuna’s side. 

“We will find a way,” Madara insisted with certainty. He nodded several times, taking up the straps of your medicine pack in his hand. He rooted around in it, searching for powder. “There is an ointment crafted for deep wounds—!”

“It is too late, Madara.” Izuna collapsed back onto his cot. A sharp hiss of pain tore from his throat. Izuna grabbed at his brother’s sleeve, willing him to come closer with his little remaining strength. The hold he had on Madara’s clothes was a death grip. “You must listen to me.”

Madara bowed like a child in prayer, lending his ear to Izuna’s lips. He crouched on his knees, hair cascading over his brother’s pale face as he blindly clung onto any part of Izuna he could reach. Izuna’s voice, perhaps meant only for Madara, faded in and out.

“For the good and future of the clan, you must not fall victim to Hashirama Senju’s trickery… promise me, I…” You could barely hear him. You hovered just behind Madara, sitting with your knees tucked under you and the fabric that made up the skirt of your robes balled in your fists. You tucked your chin to your chest. Hot tears continued to dribble down your face.

Your head spun, unable to listen to Izuna’s words even if you tried. You became lost in yourself, only resurfacing to reality when the sound of your name rang across the room. It was the doctor.

One moment, Izuna was speaking to Madara, and then the next—

“We will be performing an ocular transplant,” the doctor said. “Are you able to assist?” His grave gaze bore into you.

Your mouth gaped. You shook your head in disbelief. You turned toward Madara, who couldn't see you.

“You are taking his eyes?” you asked accusingly. Your tone held a harsh snap. “Are you so obsessed with battle that you dare take the sharingan of your own brother—?”

“Enough.” Izuna’s voice somehow found its way out of his throat. Just barely. His tired eyes met yours. “I forfeit them willingly… for the sake of the clan.” Izuna’s lids fluttered closed, even as you continued to stare. A new wave of tears welled in your vision. You were growing sick of weeping.

“For the sake of the clan…” you repeated, a part of you hoping that if you spoke the words, they would make better sense to you. You didn’t have to yield advanced jutsu to understand the implications of Madara obtaining Izuna’s eyes. With the Senju closing in, you knew there were few other choices.

Madara, the leader of the Uchiha, had exhausted his mangekyo sharingan. Izuna, the second strongest fighter in the clan, was fading quickly as he lay before you. And while the Uchiha had more than formidable soldiers, too many had been defeated in the ambush, and the rest had been injured during their retreat. It was truly up to Madara to protect you now.

Izuna spoke your name again. It would be the final time he would do so.

“I implore you… please, do not deprive me of my final wish,” he said weakly, the frailty of his words a stark contrast to the unfair burden he bestowed upon you. You glanced back toward the doctor. “I need you by my side.”

“I— I just make the medicine, although I— I…” You closed your eyes to shed more tears, but none fell. You tried to blink again, only to find your waterline dry. “I can administer some remedies.”

“The extra set of hands is more than plenty,” the doctor affirmed. “But we must make haste.”

Izuna’s hand found yours. His touch was cold. He gave your hand a weak squeeze.

*** 

It wasn’t enough to hang onto every moment you could. You tried to take him in during every second of the procedure, focusing so hard on being with Izuna for the dwindling amount of time you had left. You could feel the minutes slipping through your fingers. Your eyes searched every inch of him, trying to hang onto the patches of snowy white skin between the dirt and red stains. Izuna was here now, and you pulled a single moment into a thousand.

And when it was done, and Izuna was dead, you sat back on your calves. Madara lay to your left, his face bandaged with wrappings adorned with healing herbs. And Izuna rested to your right.

He had passed just moments before, long before the doctor had left the room. A thin sheet rested over his head, extending down to his blood-stained boots. But even as he lay such a short distance away, all presence of him had been vanquished from the room. The form under the cloth was an object, a thing taking a shape that certainly wasn’t Izuna. 

Your skin was taut from all your weeping. The tears still came in bursts, but the muscles in your face felt fatigued by it all. Any noise from the outside sounded muffled. Even Madara’s heavy breathing didn’t make it to your ears. 

You could see the light from the sun behind the paper walls. You stared blankly at the random swipes and spatters of red that dotted the room, staining the light eggshell color of all the fixtures. 

You lay down between them, letting your body go limp for the first time that morning. Some medics had since taken your bag of extra medication to use outside. The commotion in the village seemed to have dwindled some. You let your eyes fall closed. Exhaustion had grown so great in your head that your lack of energy made you wired. Your thoughts ran across your brain on their own, and you could do little to stop them.

You could sense that Madara was about to speak even before he parted his lips. He breathed in, taking a familiar pause before his voice dared to break through the silence in the room. 

“Your resentment radiates off of you like fire.”

In one of his final acts of life, Izuna had sated Madara’s rage, leaving his brother in this world quiet and pensive. Madara had been eerily silent. 

You let your eyes open lazily. They traced the outline of Izuna’s face beneath the cotton sheet.

“Now is hardly the time, Madara,” you muttered. 

“But it is true.”

You didn’t answer. You shepherded the silence back into the air, hoping that your ignorance of him would be enough. You couldn’t handle his talk in the face of your bubbling and agitated emotions. 

“It is true—"

“Silence, Madara,” you snapped, your words lashing across the silent atmosphere you tried to curate. You held your arms close to your chest, nuzzling your cheek into the side of one of your hands. You curled farther in on yourself, only isolating Madara more. “Izuna just...”

“He is passed,” Madara rumbled solemnly with all the clarity of the world. You cast your gaze to the light just outside the paper doors. It looked warm. “And you believe it should have been me in his place.”

“I said no such thing.” Your face was tired and puffy.

“You would be right.”

“Cease with your grandstanding—” You sat up, propping yourself on your palm as you faced Izuna’s body. You could barely keep yourself from collapsing from the mental exhaustion alone. — “It is inappropriate at a time like this.” You could feel the sting of tears shocking the nerves behind your nose, yet your eyes remained dry. “Why must you make these things so difficult?”

“I am making the death of my own brother difficult?” He sat up somewhere behind you.

“Do not twist my words. Timing has never been your strong suit, Madara.” You also rose to sit up straight, now sitting cross-legged near Izuna’s knees.  

“You believe that I am not in grief?” He held a thundering bite to his words, although even the slightest increase in volume sounded like a storm within the context of the hauntingly quiet room. “Do you believe that I do not feel deep despair over one who I have loved so dearly?” 

“You were not the only one who cherished Izuna!” You snapped around, knees hitting the opposite side of the mat floor. “Of all the times where you must be a fool, Madara! Why must it be now? Why must it have been this past visit to my apothecary? Why must it have been on the battlefield where you could have saved him a hundred times over, and yet you condemn yourself to play the fool!”

You weren’t used to seeing Madara’s face bandaged. He looked like a ghost, sitting upright where he was with his legs outstretched before him. Even blinded, you could almost feel his gaze boring into yours.

When he spoke, his voice was low.

“I am well aware,” he growled, trailing a tense silence in his wake. Madara sat up farther, and it wasn’t until the faint shadow of his large form eclipsed half of your face that you realized how quickly he bridged the gap between the two of you. “I am not blind enough to reflect on my hubris, nor am I blind enough to recognize my own twisted nature in my jealousy.”

You found yourself once again face to face with bandaged eyes, hypnotized by the infinity of cloth strips layered over each other. You took in every fold, watching where blood slowly seeped through the fibers. And perhaps if it had been a more tender moment and if you had loved Madara more, you might have tenderly taken hold of his jaw. But instead, you sat, slowly sobering up to the reality of what just occurred a few moments prior as your face was contorted by a demon of despair. 

Your resolve imploded.

“A mere reflection is hardly recompense,” you hissed, your voice coming out as barely a whisper. “How must it feel to have sacrificed your only living blood and continue to prove yourself so fruitless in your rivalry with Hashirama Senju? You have no excuse for your arrogance!” You steadily grew in volume, suddenly finding yourself standing. “So lost in your fruitless rivalry with him, you have indeed been left blind, with your flesh newly broken and easily swayed heart—no, you do not view clearly enough the hubris in your ways! You are a soft man, Madara!”

The tears came back all at once. You shed them like a waterfall as the wind caught in your throat. You gasped for air, hiccupping and choking all at once as the words tumbled from your lips. 

“Izuna—" You could hardly get his name out between gasps. “He—! Izuna, he thought—!” 

And perhaps if Madara had loved you more, he would have done something other than take the brunt of your broken rambling in silence. To him, that was gesture enough. To you, it was an indulgence in self-pity.

He let you leave, and no one stopped to question you as you quickly pushed through the crowd of people back to the apothecary. Although things seemed to have settled compared to the roaring chaos that captivated the late morning, people still milled around, collecting food and fluttering around the loved ones who were fortunate enough to make it home. 

You needed more time to analyze things. You honed in on the apothecary doors, barreling through them without regard for the medics coming in and out. 

You said little aside from your curt and adamant wish not to be disturbed before retreating into your loft at the far end of the apothecary. You curled in on yourself for what would feel like days, wrapping your cotton sheets around you as you buried yourself further from the world. 

The tears seemed to flow without you completely now, soaking the fabric of your pillow to create a wet circle just below your ear. Your thoughts ran on without you, and your heart ached from what felt like a hole sliced clean through it. The grief rested over you like a blanket, coating you from head to foot in numbing density. You would stay like that for what felt like days, unaware of what was happening outside. 

And the world would turn upside down, disrupting the mundanity you were trying so desperately to cultivate. 

When you weren’t lying in bed, you spent your hours lazily picking at things in your garden. In the rare moments of mustered energy, you would bathe and tend to your hair— more out of a necessity for maintenance than anything else. 

You didn’t even know that Madara had left until he returned. And when he returned to the village, he did not seek you out. Instead, a member of Madara’s council visited you at the apothecary. 

A young man with a severe face around Izuna’s age, he stood with his back erect on the porch behind the apothecary. You sat in your herb garden, absentmindedly fiddling with a particularly large flower blossom as a small collection of random herbs sat in a basket at your hip. He had called out to you in that militant voice that soldiers tended to use. You had hummed in response.

“There is a truce,” he said. “The Uchiha and the Senju have agreed to unite.” 

***

There were so many questions that the village hall overflowed with people. Members of the Uchiha even stood outside, hoping to catch an explanation. 

Madara and what was left of his council sat before the crowd, still adorned in their light wrappings from the Conquering of King’s Neck and the second face-off Madara had apparently had with Hashirama Senju. The room chirped, filling with murmurs and speculation. But when Madara began to speak, all fell silent. 

“The time has come…”

You watched from just barely inside one of the wide doorframes. Madara stared straight ahead, his voice confident, stern, and sure. 

He held himself like a clan head.

“The time has come for wartime to end,” he announced, surveying the gathered crowd. “It is time to put a stop to a violence started long ago, one that has forced our children to pay the price for a conflict started by the fathers of our father’s fathers. For I challenge you to find me a soul in this room that has not been exhausted from war and the act of burial.”

The room remained eerily quiet. You stood on your toes, trying to catch a better view over a man’s shoulder.

“Let me do away with your primary concern; The Uchiha stand on the same ground as the Senju, as equals, and in collaboration with one another. Our combined power has the potential to create a village where all people shall live without fear of violence, and small hands may never know the handle of a kunai nor the weight of the metal. This is a thing that Hashirama and I agree upon, and as the leader of the Senju clan, he has agreed to honor our terms.” 

The room erupted in a low clamor, everyone wanting nothing more than for Madara’s words to be true. They held their questions high, finally breaking their collective silence at the mere mention of Hashirama Senju. 

The sound of his name struck your heart no differently, and before you could even think, you were a distance away from the meeting hall. Your spot by the door had filled in swiftly. You had one place to retreat, one sanctuary, and you hid yourself in the loft.

***

“I need you by my side.”

You thought it was cruel for Madara to use Izuna’s last words in such a way, but you doubted that Madara even remembered his brother’s last words to you. 

The meeting had adjourned late into the night. The people had many questions, at least, that’s what Madara would tell you later. You hadn’t needed him to tell you to believe it.

It startled you when lantern light from the street flooded through the open door of the apothecary. You sat up in your bed, already halfway between wakefulness and mental exhaustion that kept you from falling into a meaningful slumber. Madara always swung the door open wider than he needed, and aside from that, you could place his hulking form anywhere.

He waited wordlessly as you descended from your tower. You did so lazily.

“Are you ill?” you asked at the bottom of your set of steps that wasn’t quite a ladder or a proper set of stairs. “A physician would have an easier time tending to you than I. At the meeting, I do believe I saw—”

Madara pulled you close in an instant. Your sleep-addled mind had little time to process the action as you stumbled over your feet. Your face hit Madara’s chest. He had a strong scent to him, which, while not unpleasant, was as overpowering as the man. 

A sliver of light trickled in from where the door sat ajar. It cast a faint highlight around Madara’s figure. Your tired eyes traced the shadows that the faint glow created on the fabric of his sleeve. 

It felt out of place being in his arms like this. You weren’t used to him not wearing armor. You could feel it in the tension of your muscles and the awkwardness of not knowing how to touch him in return. You let him hold you, and yet, for how none of it felt right, there was an odd, fragile comfort that had never belonged to Madara before. 

Madara, who imposed himself in every space he ever stood and could never be found wearing not even a piece of armor, felt soft. 

“I need you by my side,” he had told you. You felt his cheek against your hair. “I need confidence that I am making the right decision.”

“Madara,” you spoke softly, pulling back to meet his gaze in the dimness. “How do you expect me to give guidance on these things? I am not—”

You stopped yourself right there, feeling foolish in less than an instant. Nothing but the chirp of insects outside disrupted the silence of the apothecary. It felt as if so much of your time with Madara was filled with silence. But Madara’s eyes held no judgment. 

“Izuna watches over us from the heavens, and I have thought little more than the day he passed and the terrible way I behaved toward you,” he said with a slow nod. His voice held the rich timber that it typically had. Madara brought a hand gingerly to the side of your face. His skin was rough and scarred. He spoke lowly, surprising you with more softness. “I would feel confident with you by my side. You need not labor yourself, nor would you have to speak a word… For you just to be would be enough.”

“What do you speak of, Madara?” 

Madara cast his gaze off to the side, his jaw tensing slightly. 

“Perhaps Izuna would think it weak of me to bring a woman to such prestigious negotiations…” He pulled back, taking his warmth with him. Madara turned with one hand on his hip and the other clasped over his face. 

“Of what do you speak?” You nearly choked on air. 

— “But what if said woman was close family? 

When Madara whipped back around, he did so in the middle of a thought he did not bother to share with you. You blinked a few times, letting your eyes flutter closed as you tried to gather your thoughts, and to your dismay, Madara didn’t speak a word in your silence. You stared at him for answers, prompting him to elaborate.

“Izuna should be by my side,” he finally said, perhaps a bit louder than he needed to have been. When he continued, he did so with a lowered tone. “Our parents passed when we were young. Izuna was my one and only brother, and he is now gone… And so, I implore you…”

Madara took in a sharp breath, not daring to speak the rest.

“Is that what we are now?” you asked. “You consider me family?”

A familiar silence once again took hold of the space between you.

“Is a wife not considered family?”

It was only due to a moment of shock that you let the question sit in the air.

You turned on your heel, your hands coming to your face as you shook your head with fatigue.

“Madara, must I remind you how terrible you are with time? —” 

Your name shot from his lips, as did a hand to your shoulder. 

— “Perhaps you should see a physician—”

“You are the closest thing I have!” Madara’s desperate cry halted all words on your tongue. He grabbed you hard enough to leave bruises, forcefully spinning you around as he moved forward, caging you against a nearby counter. His face was so close to yours, and when you looked deep into his eyes, you saw Izuna. 

“You and I have known each other for as long as I can remember,” he said with faintness. “Has it not always been you and I? Have you not always thought it was destiny how we have always been brought together like this?”

You couldn’t say why tears began prickling at your eyes. It felt as if anything could make you cry nowadays. Madara brought a hand back up to your face, skimming the wetness from your cheek. 

“Please—” It was the first time you heard Madara use such a word. — “I can assure you that things will improve, that I shall improve. Be with me by my side. I do not ask you to marry me tomorrow, but perhaps if you may see— perhaps you may come to see things as I see them.”

“You have always been one to set your expectations far too high.”

“Can you deny that we are as close as family? We have only each other.” Madara’s hand traveled down your arm to grasp your fingers in his. “I do not ask for your commitment. I ask only for the openness of your mind.”

Your eyes squeezed shut, and you breathed out a deep breath. Unconsciously, you leaned into him. Nothing made you feel right now.

“With your track record of anger and empty promises? What have we ever agreed upon?” Your words came out weakly as you met Madara’s gaze in the dimness again.

You wanted so desperately to stop staring into his eyes.

But… Izuna…

“You would have protested such things not too long ago. It all seems quite ridiculous, does it not?” You found yourself laughing, and Madara cracked a smile for the first time in a long while. 

It was thin-lipped and, indeed, did resemble a crack. The wrinkles that ripped across his face made him look young, a lot younger than he had been looking as of late. A small chuckle shook his chest and hardly made a sound in his throat. You let out a light laugh. What you said hasn’t been funny, nor was it meant to be. 

A handful of memories from when you were a teenager sat at the back of your mind, and perhaps if you tried not to think about them, they wouldn’t hold any importance. 

***

That had been a foolish thought in and of itself, and in the days following, you wondered why you had let Madara persuade you. You decided that he had beaten you down with sentiment and nostalgia, knowing that considering any other reason would only disturb what little peace of mind you had. 

It would have been wiser to give it all some thought. It would have been wiser to have turned Madara away in the first place rather than humoring his charged words, and yet, a part of you wanted to move forward. Even on your way to the neutral meeting ground, you wanted to be a part of the new dawn, spurred on by a nagging curiosity and a morbid sense of fate. 

Foolish. Foolish, with little sense to it at all!

You caught a glimpse of white, and you purposefully averted your eyes. Madara stood next to you, sporting his best robes as members of the Senju unfurled two banners to be hung. The amount of Uchiha who came in support of the agreement surprised you. Most of your settlement gathered somewhat behind you, still unsure what to make of the crowd of unarmed Senju directly ahead.

The two groups remained segregated for the most part, standing around awkwardly even as the banners featuring the Uchiha and Senju crests were hung side by side. You glanced to your left toward Madara, feeling the stuffiness and tension yourself. But Madara remained stoic and upright, hardly regarding you even as Hashirama approached.

“Today is a day for celebration! Why must everyone be so serious?”

And from the tales you had been told of Hashirama, he had not been what you expected him to be. He instantly spotted the two of you as he emerged from the crowd. His round, kind eyes seemed to glitter, along with the perfectly white teeth he bared with his smile. 

“Madara! My friend!” Hashirama, an already tall man, held his arms up. He only needed to take a few long strides before he was upon Madara, wrapping him up in a hug great enough to cause Madara to take a half step back. (You almost took a step back with him.) Just as quickly as Hashirama embraced him, he pulled back, planting his hands firmly on Madara’s shoulders. And Madara let him. “It is good to see you!”

Hashirama turned to you and positioned himself directly before you, eyes remaining as wide as his smile. 

“Madara, how could you not send notice that you would be bringing a goddess to smile upon the union of our clans?” He fell quickly into a deep bow as you gaped. You instinctually turned to look at Madara, a girlish grin of your own contorting your lips. Madara rolled his eyes with a knowing sigh. Hashirama returned to his full height. “You may call me Hashirama. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you hummed, offering your name in return. “I hope you do not consider primary names informal as we have just met.”

Hashirama let out a boisterous laugh.

“Are you not all Uchiha as we are all Senju?” Hashirama chuckled, eyes drifting to the crowd of Senju for a moment before he did a double take. “Ah!” He turned back to you and Madara, gesturing to his right. “Speaking of Senju, might I present my brother, Tobirama.”

“Everything is prepared, brother, the people are waiting on you—” 

Tobirama’s gaze latched onto yours like a magnet, causing him to stop short just to Hashirama’s right as his mouth snapped shut instantly. Your jaw dropped, and you quickly clasped your lip closed to not bring attention to your light gasp. You prayed that neither Hashirama nor Madara, who stood between the two of you, noticed your out-of-place surprise. Hashirama seemed to breeze past the micro-interaction entirely as he spoke your name.

“This is my brother, Tobirama. Tobirama, this is…” You didn’t take your eyes off Tobirama’s red irises for a second, lost in the pounding that threatened to burst open your chest. You couldn’t stop yourself from moving. Your foot slid back, positioning you just behind Madara’s shoulder. Your hand tightly grasped the back of his sleeve.

Your movement didn’t escape Hashirama. When you looked back at him, you found his gaze anchored directly to the grip you held on Madara’s arm. You watched as his face seemed to droop, his broad smile wavering for a moment as an expression of what you could only describe as genuine sorrow swept over Hashirama’s face. It was a contortion so sincere that you almost felt bad for how your body reacted. But Hashirama recovered quickly as he faced Madara once again with a friendly smile. 

“... your wife, Madara?” 

You hadn’t realized that Hashirama was still talking. 

You and Madara gazed at each other simultaneously, expecting the other to answer, but instead, you found yourselves engaged in a silent, second-long debate.

“This is, uh,” Madara started, now as thrown off as you were. His forehead twitched as he glanced back toward you instinctually. 

“I am an…” You made the mistake of accidentally making eye contact with Tobirama once again. He stood stoically by Hashirama’s side, quietly awaiting an answer. Your panicked gaze once again darted between Hashirama and Madara, who didn’t appear to be in a rush to come to your aid. — “advisor.” You nodded with pseudo-certainty. “I am an advisor on the Uchiha council.”

Hashirama wasn’t allowed time to comment. 

“Pardon us.” Two members of the Senju tentatively approached your group. Hashirama pivoted a foot to acknowledge them.

“Yes, what is it?”

“All has been prepared for us to begin. We wait only on the two of you.” 

Hashirama turned to spare a half-glance over his shoulder.

“Ah, that is what you were here to notify me of, was it not? Telling me to quit my chatter, eh, Tobirama? Why did you not speak sooner?” Hashirama laughed. “Let us make haste and not leave the people waiting longer than they have already. I am certain that everyone would rather be at the banquet than listen to my dry speech!”

With Hashirama having decided to begin, you retreated to the Uchiha side of the crowd and Tobirama to the Senju.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: Hahaha would you believe that I forgot that healing jutsu existed for, perhaps, this entire fic?? I certainly wrote other things with healing jutsu. Hell, I’ve written whole stories centered on it, but this?? WHOOPS.

I thought to myself that I might add another section to this chapter but I saw that 6.8k and went hahahahaha nope!

My grammar checker no longer works on the document that this was originally written on, so I took the chapter and isolated it to do edits... resulting in weird indentation issues. Ah so goes the world...

@gracefulbumblebee @norasincubi @rahatake

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX Part X Part XI

Edit: I think I’ll drop the next chapter when this one reaches 100 notes.

[phantomstatistician]

Fandom: Naruto

Character: Madara Uchiha

Sample Size: 8,712 stories

Source: AO3

[nardo-headcanons]

Hi, I never get tired of saying how creative and talented you are ♡♡♡ I wanted to know if you would write about the Senju Clan. I know it's strange, since I haven't seen you writing anything like that and usually I don't see anything like that. I like the way you write, you're the best

Sigh. I have let this sit in my inbox way too long. I am so sorry. Thank you so much for your kind words, nonnie. I have some thoughts about the Hyuga as well, let me know if you would be interested in hearing that.

Also please note that I will change around some canon things and all of this is fanfiction/headcanon.

tagging some people i think will like reading this post: @narutobrainrotstuff , @the-real-sasuke-uchiha , @spookyphilosophertaco , @danceofthexdragons

cw for mention of genetics, racism, religion, genocide and human experiments

The Senju Clan

People

Compared to the Uchiha clan, who are phenotypically rather monotonous, the Senju clan had a very diverse population with a wider range of skin tones, eye and hair colors. There were generally very little restrictions when it came to marrying into the clan and becoming a part of it. The only traits most of the Senju shared were that of fine, straight hair whilst the Uchiha had thick and dark hair with curls not being uncommon.

The reason the Senju died out were two sides of the same coin - with many of the clan's members birthing less and less children, and those who did marrying outside of the clan to the point where there are many Konoha ninjas nowadays who are part Senju but may not even know it.

Traits and Abilities

The Senju were rather unspecified, wanting to hone their skills in all three fighting styles, though I like to think that Taijutsu was one they particularly excelled in. Once one's movements were fast enough to be evaded by the base sharingan (Mangekyou sharingan was, depending on the source material, either extremely rare or nonexistent), the Senju had an easier time fighting the Uchiha. Many of them became weapons and taijutsu specialists, making me think that Tenten might be part Senju and her idolization of Tsunade was a way to connect with her roots and get to know a fellow Senju.

Another skill of the Senju was wood style, which was a skill many Senju before Hashirama posessed, but they rarely ever utilized it in battle. Said ability was caused by a point mutation in the exome, prompting Orochimaru to later carry out experiment's on embryonic DNA to artificially induce said point mutation, killing dozens of newborns in the process.

Religion

While the Uchiha followed the way of Shintōism, most of the Senju were buddhists, like their distant relatives, the Uzumaki. Initially, the people living in the country of fire were engaging in both buddhist and shintōist practices, but with the continued rise of war between the shintō-believing Uchiha and the buddhist Senju, these two religions were more or less divided.

The Senju and the Uzumaki

The establishment of Uzushiogakure in the whirlpool country was received with mixed feelings from its inhabitants. Most Uzumaki, although practiced in the arts of combat, preferred their pacifistic lifestyle of teaching their ways on paper, and not on the battlefield. This instability made it easier for the hidden mist village to send colonialist forces, killing most of the Uzumaki in fear of their congenital abilities. And with the Senju living more and more decentralized and being too occupied with themselves, Uzushiogakure lacked the manpower compared to Kiri's extermination force.

The Senju's Legacy

Nowadays, after Konoha was founded, the Senju started living more and more decentralized, therefore there wasn't such a thing as the "Senju compound". The language of the Senju was adapted as Konoha's official language, causing the other hidden villages to adapt it as well. (You can read more about my thoughts on language in the Shinobi world here.)

There were shrines for both buddhist and shintō believers in the village, but once Hashirama became the first hokage, more and more citizens adapted the Senju's religion of buddhism, with the shintō believers dwindling in numbers. Tobirama's segregation policy did not help in the slightest; although the Uchiha, who believed in family unity and support, lived closely together, being redlined and pushed into the same profession felt patronizing. But even though the Senju as a clan is no more, their legacy continues on, in good ways, and in bad.

[writersfantacy]

Playful banter (Tobirama x uchiha reader)

The evening was serene, bathed in hues of blue and red, symbolizing the alliance of the Senju and Uchiha clans, a party organized by Hashirama of course. Tobirama, however, was less enthusiastic about the gathering, especially with the presence of another exasperating Uchiha besides Madara—Y/n Uchiha. Her mere presence was enough to annoy him, yet he couldn't deny the fluttering in his stomach during their heated verbal exchanges.

"Come on, Tobi, don't be like that. It's a union for peace; you can't just stay at home or in the office," Hashirama said with a smile, trying to coax the already grumpy Tobirama to get ready for the party.

"I see no need for my presence; you can handle it alone, brother," Tobirama stated in his firm tone.

"Your presence is necessary. Given your prominent position, it's expected. Or could it be that you're nervous because a certain lady will be there?" Hashirama chuckled at the idea. He would like to see Tobirama stutter in front of his crush, although that's unlikely for Tobirama.

"Shut up, brother. It's not what you think. I have decided not to attend your party, and my decision is final," he said, fixing Hashirama with a stern look.

"Hashi-kun has done a great job," Y/n stated, surveying the surroundings while clad in a simple yet elegant black dress.

"Indeed," Madara said, walking alongside his sister and silently taking in the view.

"Oh, look, there he is," said Y/N, pointing at Hashirama, who was sitting with a group of gamblers, seemingly accompanied by his team.

"And there is his brother, the red-eyed albino," Madara stated, walking towards Hashirama.

As Madara Uchiha and Hashirama Senju met, they became engrossed in their conversation, sipping wine, and jesting about their siblings. Meanwhile, Tobirama and Y/N, being the responsible ones, refrained from drinking.

Tobirama cleared his throat. "Your brother is a mess," he said, pointing at Madara.

"So is yours" she said pointing at hashirama. Both of them sighed.

"He displays more civility than Madara, just observe him consuming twenty-four glasses of wine in a single attempt."

"At least he isn't gambling like your brother."

"My brother may be foolish, but he unites everyone, unlike the Uchihas who seem to seek conflict frequently."

"Oh, that's such a contradiction. We never fight; it's you Senjus who always carry this unnecessary pride."

"We have achieved things that warrant pride, unlike you who possess an aggressive nature."

"Tobirama Senju, what is your problem? you come here and started arguing with me"

"I am just stating facts"

"They are not facts, you just want to argue. Have I ever told you how much I hate you?"

"Feelings are same, in fact I hate you more, every bit of you"

"Liar," Hashirama interjected, earning a glare from Tobirama.

"Good to know, Because I'll dammed if you liked me"

That genuinely hurt Tobirama; he narrowed his eyes and spoke.

"And why's that?"

"Because you are insufferable, no woman in her right mind could like you."

"Oh? I assure you, no sane man would favor a hysterical woman such as yourself," Tobirama said with a slight smirk.

At this point they were so engrossed in insulting each other that they were unaware of the present distance left between them. They had moved closer with each insult they were throwing at each other.

Frustrated with the accusations of "you are annoying" and "you are this and that," they now stood close, gazing into each other's eyes.

Tobirama surveyed her from head to toe, absorbing the sight before swallowing hard and cursing himself.

"You look infuriatingly beautiful, Uchiha. What on earth are you trying to do to me?" His hand traveled to her shoulder, and he could have sworn he saw her smirk, which only served to frustrate him further.

"Didn't you say that no sane man would ever like me? I knew you weren't sane," she said, grinning.

he leaned close whispering in her ears, sending shiver down her spine. His own heart was beating fast. He doesn't know where all this confidence and insanity came from? How all his deep desires are now taking force. "Don't vex me further, You will only make this difficult for yourself" he said inhaling her scent, it was taking every bit of his self control to not kiss her.

"Why? Don't tell me Tobirama can't control himself," she said, her hand moving to his shoulder and her lips whispering in his ear. She was aware it was a risky game. But she can't help but smirk at his vulnerable state.

"You are asking for it" his hand travelled to her waist.

"Maybe I am, maybe I am not" She said grinning, only adding to his fuel.

"Get away from my sister, you crimson polar bear!" Madara shouted in his drunken state, followed by Hashirama who was trying to hush him. Quickly, both of them moved away from each other, embarrassed by the sudden incident.

[fire-eyed-raven]

A warring clans era HashiMada AU

Where both Hashirama and Madara are fed up to their eyeballs with their clan elders trying to arrange their marriages for political advantage. Endlessly suggesting some girls who they can't care less about.

So one day they accidentally meet at some bar after their missions. While being drunk. And share their problems with people trying to marry them off. Their drunk brains come up with an ingenious solution - they could marry each other! It's a politically advantageous match - because yay! The fighting would stop! And they both actually somewhat like each other already?

So they don't put it off and go and find nearest temple and ask a local official to marry them right this instant. Maybe they even have to threaten them a little.

Next morning they wake up and they are already married by Daimyo's law....

And that's how war between Senju and Uchiha has ended.

❤

[luchicm04]

Sorry, I couldn't help myself😅

[tojiluv]

☆ . . . . . . 𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐒 [masterlist]

HEADCANONS / ONESHOTS / IMAGINES

→ unveiling love ─ uchiha clan (sfw)

© 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐯 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

[ohai-there]

Uhhhh ohhhh the brainrot got to me....

@oh-no-its-bird you changed my brain chemistry you need to take responsibility istg

[uh-oh-its-bird]

Offshoot of my "team Ro time travels to the founders era" post because @prinzgnomeovonchaos infected me with brain rot in the notes

So buckle in baby it's time for

Sakumo and babyKashi time traveling to the warring states ✨️

So first thing to get out of the way; Modern Hatake's and warring states era Hatake's do not hold up to the same standards.

The Hatake's during the states were a very small clan with a very big reputation. Hailing from Iron, they were an almost famous wild clan even all the way in fire country. Distantly related to the Inuzuka's but leaning more towards wolves than dogs.

They had a proper kekkei genkai and everything, unnaturally fast and strong, often born with some form of enhanced senses— be it smell, sight, taste, or even touch. Their white chakra fed into it, and they'd feed their chakra with diets of raw meat and the occasional light cannibalism during some special clan celebrations and rituals.

Unfortunatley Sakumo knows very little about the above because he was very young when his clan was pretty much all wiped out. He was raised by the only other survivor, his grandmother, who was pretty young herself when the clan got wiped, and unfortunatley was never all too concious of many of the rituals and traditions of her clan until it was too late.

Sakumo grew up to village standards and was mostly declawed because of it, and Kakashi is only doubly so. And with that dulling of all the different traditions and specific diets also came the slow fading of their bloodline limit, which was already pretty subtle if you didn't know what you're looking for.

Anyways moving on, and if you want more details for my headcanons ab warring states Hatake's vs modern standard Hatake's look at my other time travel post bc I talk ab it more there.

So Kakashi is like 6 (holy shit he's a BABY baby)

Google keeps giving me conflicting numbers for Sakumo's age at his death so we're just gonna shrug and say he's in his early 30's.

Then for the founders;

Madara (23)

Hashirama (23)

Izuna (19)

Tobirama (18)

Sakumo is staring at these guys going through it bc they are BABIES to him. And like look, he's used to working with or even occasionally under people much younger than him, but like. Oh man that's the shodai hokage. And he's like a toddler.

(He's a 23 year old man but Sakumo is kind of having a crisis so he can't register that)

So like. All the founders have major daddy issues, right? Like we can all agree that's plausible? I'm so sorry I just think it'd be *really fucking funny* if they look at Sakumo and just kinda. Yeah.

You know what I mean.

Anyways;

No idea how they got there!! This is set maybe a week before Sakumo offed himself but now he can't kill himself bc that'd mean abandoning Kakashi to the fucking warring states.

Kakashi fits the warring states standards alarmingly well actually. Honestly I think even for that time period he's still scarily young to be on the field. People are giving Sakumo looks like 'it's so hard what we've been forced to do to our children, the battles we've pushed them into, the things they've seen and done all too young'

Sakumo is going *hrrg.* and having a good long look in the mirror actually. Proper crisis, lots of guilt, Kakashi should not be out in the field this young and at least before he was mostly getting baby missions but now they're stranded in time and keep running head first into trouble.

I want Izuna and Kakashi to fight and even though Kakashi absoloutley should NOT win that battle I want him to win just so that Madara and Tobirama can make fun of him for losing to an actual child

Izuna is mortified he wants that brat DEAD

Uhh I have some more but I'm at work and actually hit post too early on this post so I had to come back to rush add all these edits bc I meant for it to stay a draft I could keep adding too later. So I'll just come add more later fr

[luv-kakashi]

One of us is dead

chapter ten - missions

chapter nine | chapter eleven

Genin: the ranking has two very different meanings.

Back in Kirigakure, only those who emerged victorious in killing their comrades were made genin. And even then, the genin were overworked with missions beyond their calibre.

But here in Konoha, genin life was much different. After making genin a week ago, Team Two have completed an overall 15 missions, all being D-rank and C-rank of course.

You'd think that especially during a war, the village would need more manpower to complete more of the important missions, but that wasn't the case when our team was inundated with 'missions' ranging from dog-sitting, grocery shopping and watering a civilian's garden.

Furthermore, for some reason, Kushina sensei hasn't been leading any of our missions as of late. She named Shisui as team captain during her absence. Perhaps the village needs all the jounin to be completing the more pressing missions, leaving us genin with the more boring of the lot.

Finally, Team Two received a mission with Kushina Sensei and was probably the most exciting mission we've had so far. Although it was a C-rank mission, it did require us to move out of the village. We had to travel to Sunagakure to give the Kazekage a scroll.

"Honestly, when we were told we had to go to Suna for this mission I got so excited. But there's nothing exciting about 500 miles of sand." Akira sighed, as we jumped through the trees, returning home after the mission.

"At least we were able to get out of the village for a while," Kushina replied.

I quickly noticed Shisui slowly becoming more and more retired and isolated. He hasn't said a word for a while now and it was becoming more and more unsettling by the minute. Sensei even picked up on his strange behaviour, before taking a deep breath as she retired to the same expression Shisui had plastered over his face.

I haven't known him for long, but it doesn't take much to notice his irrational behaviour. I quickly turned around to face him, and I sent him a small smile to see if he was okay, yet his same stoic expression never faltered one bit.

That's when it dawned on me. Two shinobi were ahead of us, waiting in the trees. I scanned the branches, my senses on high alert. They were skilled—their large chakra stores betrayed their presence. But I could feel them, the weight of their killing intent pressing against my mind like a cold, dark tide.

"Who pissed in your milk, Shisui? Lighten up, will you? I'm starting to think you're dead." Akira chuckled.

"30 km ahead north-east." Was all Shisui said as we continued to jump through the dense trees.

Sharp reflexes, Uchiha. I thought to myself.

"2 ninjas are waiting for us ahead," Kushina said, pulling out a kunai. Judging from their chakra stores, they were quite powerful too.

We made our way to where the ninjas were supposed to be, kunai in hand, ready for an attack.

But they were nowhere to be seen. Or so I thought.

An earth-style jutsu soon ripped through the earth separating Shisui and Sensei from me and Akira, before a series of water-style jutsus were thrown our way. I looked around to see if my teammates were okay. Akira seemed fine; well, he was sturuggled to get up from the impact of the attack.

On the other hand, Shisui was nowhere to be seen.

I rose to my feet, realising one of the ninjas had coated their arm with an earth-style jutsu and was quickly charging towards me. I must use lightning to nullify the attack.

"Lightning style: Jolt clamp!" I shouted, running straight to the ninja as my jutsu paralysed the surrounding muscles in her arm. The ninja stumbled back, gripping her limp limb before shouting out to me.

"Would you look at that? Princess has left us for the Leaf," the taller of the two shinobi retorts, as he walks towards me.

Shit, shit, shit.

They're after me. I need to dispose of them fast before the others find out.

"You have the wrong person! I have no idea what you're talking about." I spat, holding my kunai in a defensive stance.

"Stop hiding Kunoichi Thirteen," the other ninja started to rant, before she turned to her partner, "Cash, check her ID."

The other ninja came behind me, pinning my wrists to my back using one hand, the other pulling back my hair as he examined my neck. "There's nothing there."

Shit, shit, shit. I need to shut them up fast.

I slammed my head to meet the ninja's nose, causing him to loosen his grip on my hair. Just as I was preparing for an attack, Shisui popped out of the trees he was hiding in.

About time, stupid Uchiha.

"Fire style: Fireball jutsu!"

The two ninjas jumped back to dodge his attack. But after seeing a glimpse of his blaring sharingan, they immediately started to back away.

"It's... it's Shisui of the body flicker." They stammered as they turned away, afraid to take on his visual prowess.

"It looks like they're gone now," Shisui said, offering a hand to Akira as Kushina turned to me.

"Sorry for not helping sooner, I needed to find out who they were after," Kushina stated as she deadpanned her gaze towards me, "and they made that pretty clear."

"What did they want from you Y/N?"

"I'm sure they mistook me for someone else. Honestly, I was so shaken up, I didn't even register what they said to me." I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Did they hurt you?" Kushina asked, holding my face between her hands inspecting for any wounds.

"I think I'm okay," I replied, "I'm sorry I just didn't expect it."

"Many more of our missions may end up being like this, we need to be alert at all times," Shisui said before we started making our way back to the leaf.

The more I play the role of an innocent Y/N Uzumaki, who's estranged from her family, the more pressure I'm under. It won't be long until more shinobi from The Byakua try to come get me. Even worse, what if the masked man and Zetsu chase after me?

I need to wrap up my business here in the Leaf, before I am found out.

"I hate having missions and hospital shifts on the same day. I never get a break, do I?" Akira whined as we finally reached Konoha.

"You signed up for this Bakakira, stop complaining." Shisui retorted, earning a moan from him.

"Shisui, can you come with me to fill out the mission report? It'll give you good practise for when you become jounin." Kushina said, giving him the returning scroll from Sunagakure as they flickered to the Hokage tower.

"Want me to walk you to the hospital?" I asked as I turned to Akira.

"Yeah sure."

We walked through the evening streets of Konoha, enjoying the tranquillity of the air around us. The fresh scent of ramen wafted through the air, mingling with the faint aroma of the cherry blossoms which lined the streets. We watched as laughter echoed from the children leaving the academy, weaving between the adults excited from a day of adventure.

"Hey Akira," I ask, breaking the comfortable silence between us.

Ever since I met Akira, one thought has always lingered in the back of my mind, a thought that grew with each day, fuelled by curiosity.

"Why do you work so hard to become a medic, Akira?"

"In all honesty, I never wanted to become a medic," Akira replies, "Actually, I was on track to graduating with Shisui and our other friend Itsuki years ago. We all agreed to graduate early, get put on the same team and become an unstoppable trio. But that year, my father tragically passed away on a mission."

"Oh, I'm so sorry for bringing this up Akira. I'm sorry for your loss," I admitted apologetically, fumbling to change the subject from something so painful.

"Thank you, but it was many years ago. I've had my time to grieve," Akira said, his voice steady yet tinged with a quiet sadness. He glanced at me with a comforting gaze, his eyes soft but resolute, as if he was reassuring me as much as himself.

"You see, he was a medic, a prideful one at that. But during one fateful mission, the entire team wound up critically injured before they could ultimately finish the mission. My father just couldn't let it go.

Shinobi rule no. 103, "No medic shall ever die until they are the last of their platoon". But that meant nothing to my father. He sacrificed his life to make sure that the mission was completed, and he depleted the very last of his chakra to heal his comrades."

His words hung in the air between us, carrying the unspoken memories of a time that had shaped him into the person he was now.

"The news of his death shook me to my core. I knew he was an exceptional shinobi of a high ranking. I guess it never occurred to me that my father could one day be killed on a mission. I started to lose all hope in the shinobi system... everything seemed so pointless. What was the point in going to the academy, training to become a shinobi only to be eventually killed one day?

I stopped going to my classes in the academy, gave up on my training and spent my days wasting my time at home.

It wasn't until my father's funeral that my whole outlook on the shinobi system changed."

Rain relentlessly poured from the dark clouds rolling in. The trees surrounding the cemetery stood tall and still, their leaves barely rustling in the gentle breeze, as if nature itself was holding its breath in respect.

"Why? Why did he have to die?" Akira screamed into the distance; the weight of his grief was palpable, bearing down on him like a physical force. His fists clenched tightly at his sides as tears streamed down his face.

"Akira hold your head up high," The Hokage said, his voice firm yet gentle, as he placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Why? Why should I? My father is dead because of this stupid shinobi system," Akira yelled, as anger replaced his tear-filled gaze. His balled fists shook from the intensity of his emotion.

"My dad is dead, and I'm supposed to just accept that? Accept that this is the fate of any shinobi. How long will it be until it's my mom I have to bury? Or my brother?" Akira's voice cracked as he spoke, the thought of losing more of his family becoming too much to bear.

"I know the pain is overwhelming. I too have lost those I held dear to me," The Hokage reassured, "But you must find the strength within you to rise above it. Your father was a very skilled member of my guard. In fact, his will of fire inspired me during the warring period after the Second Great Shinobi War.

He believed that sacrifice was necessary to guarantee prosperity for our future generations. Like how the cherry blossom must shed its old petals for new ones to bloom. Don't you see Akira? His will of fire resides in you. The most honourable act you can do is to not let his name be forgotten in vain. Honour his name and his work Akira."

"And so, becoming a medic is my way of honouring his memory. I suppose my reason isn't very creative and I do complain a lot about the shifts and the amount of work tha-"

"I think that's very admirable, Akira-kun," I interrupted gently, my voice cutting through the tension that had thickened the air. The words hung in the air between us, soft and filled with sincerity. I knew it couldn't erase the hurt that came with losing his father, "You carry his spirit with you Akira, I'm sure he's very proud of you."

Akira's gaze flickered to a vulnerable, raw expression as he reconciled with the weight of my words and the grief in his heart.

"Thanks Y/N. I really appreciate it." Akira smiled

"Anyways, enjoy your shift Bakakira!" I chuckled as we made our way to the hospital entrance.

"You have a way of ruining these moments, you know!"

"You'll live!"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Akira's reasons for becoming a medic are so noble! he's so adorable. The time is ticking, Y/N's past continues to haunt her every minute she spends in Konoha.

Anyways, I went back to university last week and i'm already drowning in work help me. Sometimes I think that making this story an YN story was such a dumb decision.

But other than that, how are you? please tell me anything I'm so deprived of human contact.

Loving you always,

Suri

[wing-ed-thing]

Foul Creature (Tobirama x Reader) Chapter VIII

Synopsis: The territory between the Uchiha and the Senju dwindles by the day. And in an era where social lines have been blurred, and new clan heads have been chosen, you're stuck between a scorned lover and a man who relentlessly pursues your hand in marriage. You don't have much time before you're forced to confront the sins of your past.

Word Count: 3.8k

Tags/Warnings: Warning for dark themes ahead, including graphic violence. Fem!Uchiha!Reader. Please consult AO3 for more specific warnings.

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX Part X Part XI

Notes: For those of you who have been saying "wow! I wonder what's going to happen next!"... me too.

Following the last Senju raid, which had nearly decimated the Uchiha village in its entirety, the reconfiguration of the land shifted. The newly appointed clan head, Madara, led your clan up the mountains to higher ground as the Senju more than doubled their already sizeable territory, spreading across the sprawling forests. 

One of many wooded mountains in the range that bisected the Land of Fire, the one that the Uchiha chose to call home was the largest and was appropriately dubbed the “Grandfather Summit,” which boasted three great peaks. The smaller outer two were called the “Guardian Shoulders,” while the peak in the center was simply called the “Crown.” 

You supposed that some ancestors long ago had thought the sizeable structure to be anthropomorphic enough to be a golem or perhaps a god. You could see it, although the shape took on little more than what you thought a child could draw. Madara never believed that the Grandfather Summit looked much like a man at all.

“It is a large pile of stone and nothing more,” he would frown and perhaps cross his arms with a tilt of his head. But his unimpressed notion of the Grandfather Summit didn’t stop him from relocating what was left of his friends and family up the mass of rock following the most destructive blow on the Uchiha tribe in recent history. 

You couldn’t believe that Madara had been able to set his pride aside for such a move. While all the clans in the Land of Fire bordered on nomadic in some way or another, a clan as large as the Uchiha typically opted to stake its claim in a sizeable plot of fertile land. After all, a clan’s ability to keep their territory was a marker of status in and of itself. 

But in the end, Madara moved you away from the patch of forest you had called home for all of your life in pursuit of the Grandfather Summit. You were almost certain the remaining elders were unabashed in sharing their thoughts before they were forced to submit under Madara’s domineering presence. And you knew just as certainly that if the previous clan heads were alive, they would have given him an earful. 

“They are buried so deep, the earth fills their mouths too much for chatter,” Madara would surely say.

He hardly followed rigid tradition, even when it mattered, so you weren’t surprised when protests fell on deaf ears. Madara’s changes were apparent, even from the distance you hid yourself. Only strong young men filled the war room, with no wrinkled brow or shaky joint to be seen. Just like Madara, they were all chosen through combat. 

Madara took his place in the center of the room, stroking his chin gravely as he studied the map. Izuna stood at his side, both wrists folded and resting on the hilt of his sheathed katana. Four stones sat each corner of the table, holding down the corners and pulling the artisanal paper taut as the band of Uchiha warriors took turns gesturing and poking at the depictions drawn below. 

The Uchiha settlement sat between the Crown and the southern shoulder, which offered the most fertile and settleable land. Although despite resting on the lower of the collection of peaks, the southern shoulder still undoubtedly offered the highest ground compared to the land in the surrounding radius. The current positioning of the Uchiha compound was second only to the treacherous northern shoulder and the Crown itself, which reached the clouds in the heavens above. 

It was no wonder the Senju were beginning to close in from the north. 

At least, it made sense to you. You were no military strategist.

“It would be impossible.” One of Madara’s councilmen scoffed. You saw the flippant wave of a hand through the crack between the windowsill and the closed shutters. “Say the Senju manage the northern Guardian. The chances of their warriors taking on the Crown are slim to none in and of itself. There is too much to lose in an attempt to ambush us from the skies.”

“Nay, save such speculative talk, for we are far past speculation.” Another flippant wave. “The Senju have already sunk their claws deep into the northern shoulder. Farther than we could have ever anticipated. Perhaps your words would be true if we had only heard rumors of their traveling north, but it was only a sennight ago that my brother carried a Senju crest back with him from patrols.”

“An ambush from the highest peak of the Grandfather himself?” A third voice scoffed. A shadow teetered back and forth, swiping across your eyes from where you hid, wavering in the candlelight. “What must Hashirama Senju be thinking? He is certainly out of his own head! He thinks himself a god!”

“He thinks himself nothing.” Madara’s voice was low and raspy, churning in his chest like a beastly growl. His nose scrunched to the side, contrasting the nonchalant bob of his brow and shrug of his shoulder. He rested his elbow on his knee, allowing his forehead to rest in the area between his index finger and thumb. Madara took a deep breath, letting another growl-like rumble resound in his chest. “He thinks himself nothing.”

The light from the candles that lit the room flickered, casting shallow shadows across the warriors gathered. They littered the room silently; all turned toward their clan head with watchful eyes.

No one dared speak but Izuna.

He leaned down, bowing at the waist, to speak directly into his brother’s ear. Madara quirked an attentive brow.

The red pattern of your already ignited sharingan swirled in your irises as you watched from your hiding place. Your breathing slowed to steady streams of hot air, and all of your attention focused on Izuna’s lips. 

“It is worth considering that the Senju…” A curtain of hair fell over the side of his face, obscuring your view. He continued to whisper as you tried to track the movements of his mouth from behind strands of hair. 

A chill came over you. Goosebumps began to pop up across your skin. A shiver worked its way down your body in a wave, starting from your shoulders and ending at your thighs. It was only then that you met Madara’s eye.

He peered directly at you, straight through the tiny slit between where the window and the shudders were supposed to meet. Your breath hitched in your throat, everything around you slowing as you felt the hairs on your arms rise. 

And with the slightest breeze, you were whisked away like smoke in the cool summer air. 

***

The meeting didn’t adjourn until late into the night, and it was only when the candles were snuffed out that the soldiers began to head home. The moon shone brightly overhead, appearing more prominent in the sky than it had during any of the previous seasons. Even without lanterns, the entire Uchiha compound remained well-lit. Madara and his forces trickled out of the meeting building’s doors, exchanging formal nods with each other as they set off onto the moonlit paths. 

Madara paused before the wooden steps, eyes focused on the trees that swayed gently in the evening breeze. Izuna stood on the porch behind him, silently following his brother’s gaze from the trees back to Madara. 

He lingered on the Uchiha clan head for a moment before making his way down the steps. Izuna approached him with certainty, placing a firm hand on Madara’s shoulder. Only through touch did Madara snap out of his trance, blinking a few times as he tried to conceal his acute surprise. Izuna returned his hand to his other in their usual resting place at the hilt of his katana, offering his brother a knowing nod.

Madara wordlessly understood, making his way down the dark path toward home. 

Izuna loitered in the middle of the dirt road. His shoulders relaxed under his robes, and his hands never once left their slack position across his weapon as he watched Madara disappear farther and farther into the distance. 

Only when Madara disappeared over the small dirt hill in the distance did Izuna set his sights on the trees. He peered at the spot where Madara had been fixated on, slowly pivoting himself in the earth to face the patch of dark forest. 

“Reveal yourself,” he commanded. His gentle voice carried a great sternness. 

He stood patiently in the open, ever so sure of himself and not in need to prove it.

You respected a man’s ability to manage his seriousness devoid of aggression. That was likely why you obeyed him, moving out of the shadows to step into the moonlit patch of road not too far of a distance in front of him. 

If it were up to you, Izuna would be clan head.

Not that you had any power to make those decisions in the first place. 

Izuna eyed you with mild incredulousness. You expected no less from him.

“I told you to reveal yourself,” he repeated, voice ever-neutral. You sighed softly, bowing your head as the double before Izuna melted into the atmosphere. Your true body emerged from behind a nearby tree a distance away. Izuna continued to eye you wordlessly.

“I deemed it worth an attempt,” you said, clearing your throat. Izuna didn’t humor you.

“You forget yourself.” 

Quiet overtook the night once again. You dared to venture farther from your hiding spot, stepping through the grass toward the ever-still Izuna. Your limbs protested, your instincts locking your joints like those of a wooden doll. You stopped at the edge of the path, protected by the shallow shadows of the trees and feet still planted in the line of the forest. 

You could see the tension build in his neck. Having already been lost in thought with the Senju affairs, you were sure your woman’s trick hadn’t been the most well-thought-out plan in the face of Izuna’s clear vexation. Quite a few Uchiha women were known to unlock their ocular abilities, but unlike their male counterparts who were expected to partake in battle, the Uchiha women’s sharingan techniques were almost entirely passive. 

Most of them centered on making illusions, for an image of a beautiful, vulnerable woman alone in the woods may distract enemy warriors long enough for a mother to escape with her children. The mother often taught these techniques to the young in her home for similar survival reasons. 

You waited for Izuna to speak again. It was best to wait, as unlike Madara’s explosive, violent fits of predictable rage, Izuna kept his rage artfully, dangerously restrained. Like storm clouds slowly rolling in to cover the sky above, you knew that Izuna’s thunder could crack at any moment.

“I will have no more of your nonsense, and neither will Madara,” Izuna harshly proclaimed. He slowly turned away from you, hands never moving from where they sat on the hilt of his swords. The skin of his nose crinkled a bit as if he were holding back a bitter snarl. “You know not what you involve yourself with. A woman knows nothing of the matters of men, nor should she be as involved as my brother has allowed you to be. If I were clan head, an apprentice would have replaced you as apothecary long ago.” 

You stared at him as he tried to fight off the bitter look that threatened to contort his face. The redness of your sharingan had long extinguished, but you hardly needed the enhancement to study the man before you. 

“There is none more knowledgeable at the present. Makihara was… Makihara was far too liberal in his ideologies. And with the war effort, we cannot afford a lesser medicine maker.” His stoic exterior faltered for a moment with a dip of his lip. Izuna gazed somewhere in the distance, lost in an anger caused by something greater than you. “But above all, Madara wishes not to take more from you than has already been stripped of you by the Senju.”

Izuna drew his attention from the ground to the moonlit sky overhead. A full moon peaked from behind the thin clouds, illuminating the road in a silver sheen. He pivoted a foot as he regarded you, the cracks in his exterior beginning to sink back into his cold exterior. 

“Then, it is not in your control,” The gentle evening breeze carried your level voice. It was soft and undaunted, like an Uchiha woman should be. “Nor is it in mine.”

“Why do you stay?” he asked in an even tone. “I ask myself why you forget yourself so, and why has fate encouraged you?” Izuna gazed up once again at the sky. 

You stood in the darkness, shrouded by the forest.

Izuna stood elevated in the light, blanketed by the glow of the night. 

“An Uchiha, yes,” he continued coldly as if the words he recited were nothing less than factual. “But you boast no living blood. You, a woman— you have no interest in the value of tradition. Instead, you busy yourself with matters that do not concern you.” Izuna’s gaze sharpened but didn’t narrow. “Your heart is easily swayed. Your flesh is soft and bleeds when it is struck. You consider not what is done on your behalf; I implore you to consider it.” 

Izuna’s sword drew from his hip in a flash, and the tip of his katana drove into the ground. The polished metal sunk a few inches before stopping.

He finally breathed. He hadn’t realized that he had begun to heave or that his sword had been pulled from its sheath. Izuna stared at the hilt for a moment; hand still gripped around the woven handle. 

“I advise you to retreat from this place,” he muttered, heaving another deep breath as he removed his weapon and slid it back into its usual place by his hip. Izuna turned once more, squaring his shoulders back as if the mere act of speaking to you angered him to the core. His robes snapped with the motion, flowing in the air as he stormed off, ever-militant. “Our world as we know it thrives on deception, and you are no different. Retreat before your illusion fades like the fog before a flame.”

He stalked off down the path, leaving you where you stood in the darkness. Your form remained shaken but undaunted. 

***

The Uchiha’s most formidable forces were venturing off to defend the northern shoulder. It was the talk of the village from as early as daybreak, and the entire compound bustled with life as everyone made preparations. 

The journey that the warriors were to be making was most perilous. Due to the incline, there was no better way to reach the northern shoulder than to pass around the Crown summit. If Madara were to lead them upward, the warrior party would encounter a few narrow routes that led directly north. If only a few warriors were leaving, the journey might have only taken about a day or so, but with a battalion the size that Madara selected, you anticipated that it would take them a few days to reach the northern shoulder.

Women carried back firewood and prepared provisions. Children ran across the village, delivering messages and small amounts of raw materials. Metal on metal sounded from the forge. The ovens churned the scent of bread products into the air. And just shy of the center of town sat your apothecary.

You propped the door with a large rock and tied the shudders open that morning. Warm natural light trickled into the main chamber, where you stood, slaving over a mortar and pestle at the counter. 

The apothecary didn’t appear too dissimilar to your old workspace. Made of mostly wood, it stood on giant tree trunk supports. Five wooden stairs led up to the entrance, and a small patio housed a few pots of herbs. 

Large cabinets lined the walls, reaching about hip height with sturdy shelving just above to house a tall arrangement of medicinal goods. A half counter bisected the room, separating the entrance lined with goods from the back of the building, which flared out a short distance on either side. Heavier jars and handling tools were stored in this section farther into the apothecary, leaving room on the extended countertops for you to use as a workspace.

In the very back stood a winding wooden staircase. At the top sat a loft with a small library, and at the bottom was a door out the back into the small plot of land you called your medicinal garden. 

Madara’s warpath kept your counters as messy as ever. To your left, you kept trays of various herbs and mixtures laid out, ready for the adolescent soldiers to pack into bags to put into field kits. 

“You should be able to administer the wound ointment.” You frowned, stopping your work to hold up the two halves of your concoction. “First, you are to place the powder—”

“I am aware of the ways in which to administer medicine,” Madara groaned, letting his head tilt back. He rolled it from shoulder to shoulder, gazing off toward the ceiling as if that would make you stop talking. “I have not the time to learn your convoluted experiment. Where are the items I requested from you? Izuna should have notified you.”

Madara leaned over your counter, and you met his gaze. If you hadn’t known any better, you would have thought he was bored, but the mischievous glint in his eyes was unmistakable. With you behind the counter and Madara imposing himself onto your workspace, it was almost as if you were sixteen again. 

“Some things never change,” you sighed. You turned to grab a small bowl from an eye-level shelf and placed it down on the counter with a huff. Madara caught your eye again, but despite the glimmer of curiosity that continued to swim in his dark irises, you knew better than to test him like you would have just a few years prior. “I insist that we try the deep-wound treatment first. The fibrous characteristics of the vallestinia, in combination with some moisture and the accelerant-type factors of the lamortens grand, can quite plainly sew tissue together with chakra in a matter of moments—”

“Unnecessary.” Madara placed his entire hand into the bowl, scooping up a palmful of pills. He let them slip through his fingers, falling back into the pile as he considered them. “The Senju will not allow us any time to spare to make use of lengthy healing processes.”

“But you wanted me to create these,” you posed, holding your tongue from making more than an implied criticism. 

The last of the pills fell back into the bowl. Madara stared at the small compilation.

“I do not doubt that Hashirama Senju will be present on the northern shoulder,” Madara drawled, pausing between phrases. “The surrounding clans grow weary of battle, and I must admit that I have grown… tired of the state of affairs.”

“You?” you hummed an amused laugh behind tight lips. “The grand Madara fatigued of battle?” 

“Fatigued from the act of burial,” he swiftly corrected. The corners of his lips twitched upward for only a moment. “Fatigued from my home being disturbed.” His words drifted off into a growl, a soft, bored rumbling in his chest. Madara often let his voice stall in his throat, the noises turning over as they churned into a low rumble. 

“This is why I implore you to bring my latest ointment. There are but a few of them—”

“The Senju do not climb upon the Grandfather Summit to entertain prisoners. Should a warrior of the Uchiha sustain a fatal blow, he should take it upon himself to give his life in a suicide attack. It should be an honor for the final act of a soldier to be making his enemy pay.” He rose to his full height from his leaning position, glancing from the trays of herbs to the pile of pills on the counter. “Are these all you have crafted?”

“There are several more jars in storage. The herbs consist of a standard selection for minor wounds… for the journey home, of course.”

“Very good.” Madara nodded, not sparing you a second glance as he exited.

You wouldn’t see him again until the battalion departed. After a few short days of preparation, the gathering of some of Uchiha’s best warriors and other volunteers left before daybreak. You watched them go from the porch of your apothecary. Madara led them out of the compound, donning his infamous red battle armor and gunbai. Izuna followed close next to his brother. He didn’t look back at you either. 

There was much fanfare, but it was soon over, and the Uchiha compound was left in peaceful stillness.

You busied yourself with foraging in the woods near the compound, enjoying the time you were left undisturbed. The doors and windows to your apothecary remained open so you could enjoy the cool summer air. Despite the sun, which shone brightly overhead, the temperature remained comfortable.

Something about the stillness didn’t feel right.

***

The Uchiha never made it to the northern shoulder.

The Senju made their approach toward the Crown, and both clans clashed on the rocky terrain that plateaued between the two summits as you tended to your garden at home. Madara and Hashirama engaged in combat, as they had for years, clearing out a massive section of the battlefield for their duel. The blistering heat from the sun beat down on the unforgiving field, leaving little but hot stone and wilted grass. 

Not a far distance away, Tobirama’s sword clashed with Izuna’s. Their weapons crossed, shaking with the sheer force of their strikes as the two came face to face. Izuna flashed his sharingan, the deadly crimson pattern swirling to life in the heat of battle. Tobirama quickly closed his eyes, and Izuna used the opportunity to strike.

Tobirama tumbled back, slamming his back against a nearby boulder. A strangled noise tore from his throat at the impact. He wasted little time readying his hand signs, completing his jutsu before his eyes reopened in time to counter Izuna’s great fireball jutsu. 

Steam filled the battlefield.

Not one to underestimate his life-long rival, Izuna held the reds of his irises at the ready, scanning the rock for signs of movement. Kunai flew toward him from the front. He hummed to himself, unamused at the feeble attempt. 

And for a moment, he considered himself blessed to have been blessed with the sharingan eye.

“Flying Raijin Slice!”

At home, one of your flower pots fell from the railing on the apothecary patio. The sound of shattering clay startled a flock of crows, which flew overhead from a gathering of nearby trees. You stood just at the top of the wooden steps, staring down at the pile of shards, dirt, and upheaved roots. 

You could feel it.

Something was terribly wrong.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: The last chapter, this one, and perhaps part of the next are a bit Uchiha-centric in order to set up for what I have planned. You know, I didn't even intend for Madara to have this much of an impact on the story nor did I even consider writing any Izuna, but here we are... I knew I had to kill him before I posted this.

Sorry for keeping everyone waiting. It's been really cool seeing the Foul Creature notifications roll in all the time. Especially when it's someone starting from Chapter 1. Always feel free to chat; I know my posts are few and far between.

@gracefulbumblebee @norasincubi @rahatake

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX Part X Part XI

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Fandom: Naruto

Sample Size: 53,210 stories

Source: AO3