#madara: *having the time of her life fighting hashirama's corpse*

[evilkitten3]

it would have been really funny if if madara was a woman. not for like ship reasons or feminism or whatnot; just bc it would be thematically appropriate for obito's reveal if it turned out he was late coming back from the dead bc he was helping out granny (with world domination)

[jumexju]

LE CIEL

Pairing !! : Uchiha Madara / Fem Reader

Fic Type !! : Angst, Fluff, Slow Burn

CW !! : Mentions of war, violence, suicide, pining

Summary !! : After 15 years of marriage, the story of how you two met is finally told.

Note !! : This is part of my 'Married Life' Series. I thought it'd be cool to tell the story of how Madara and reader met so I could kinda explain their relationship in 'Shape of my Heart' & further their dynamic :3 There will be a part 2 btw

✦ MASTERLIST

“Do you think this war will continue on forever?” The stars shone upon your heads while the moon bathed the lot of you in its ethereal light. 

“.. I dunno.” The boy beside you answered. “I only wish there was a world where we didn’t have to fight all the time.” His spiky black hair tickled your arm but you didn’t say anything. You wanted to etch these moments with him into your memory. You’d live only in your memories if you could. 

“So do I.” you sighed and hugged your knees to your chest while you glanced at your brother's friend. You’d met him only recently because the boy had noticed you following Hashirama when he went out to the river to meet with him. Who knew you’d share their beliefs? It was rare to find that nowadays when people just seem to kill each other over differences they had long forgotten. 

Whenever your father asked you two if you’d seen anything while you were out, Hashirama and yourself became tight-lipped and said a simple, 'No, father.’ 

Because the both of you knew, 

That a friendship with the member of an enemy clan could never prosper. 

“You are but a weak woman, why has Hashirama let you out of his sight?” Madara looked upon you with disdain, as if your very presence here was an offense to him. Your eyes narrowed at him as you assumed a defensive position, “You’ve always been so prideful with your words! Tell me, is it because you’re afraid, Madara?” The words hurt to say as they came out of your mouth, your hands over one of your comrades as you hoped to heal him. The younger version of yourself wouldn’t have been surprised at the fact that the next time you’d meet Madara was on the battlefield. 

Hashirama knew this would happen. You knew it too. 

The both of you hoped that it wouldn’t come to this, but it did. Your dreams of a war-free world were shattered to oblivion the day your father attempted to ambush Madara while Hashirama had gone to the river that day. Now, Hashirama has become the clan head of the Senju and Madara, the clan head of the Uchiha. 

There was no way that there could be reconciliation now, none that you could see at least. 

Madara’s younger brother, seeing you in the middle of trying to heal one of your comrades, took this opportunity to come at you. Luckily, Tobirama came in to defend you. As your brothers — and the rest of your clan — fought with the Uchiha, you healed as many fallen shinobi as you could. You were one of the best healers, but that could never stop the bloodshed. 

As you looked upon the scores of dead bodies on the battlefield, both Uchiha & Senju alike, you wondered what it was all for. They had been at each other's throats since before the time of your fathers, was there even a reason that the two clans were fighting? Or was it all just blind rage? You kneeled down to the corpse of an Uchiha Shinobi when you saw that her hand had been held into a fist, of course, her grip on it was loosened now that she had been slain. 

You felt nothing but sorrow when you opened her hand to see a bracelet with a single crystal on it. 

A ruby. 

A small tear escaped your eyes as it dawned on you, ‘She was someone’s family..’ You had been part of the war, there was blood on your hands too. You knew that they were just like you. Human beings that had families, just like you. You gripped the bracelet in your hand frustratedly before placing it in the woman’s palm and closing her hand. 

This needed to stop. 

With the swift slash of a sword, Tobirama made quick work of Madara’s younger brother, Izuna Uchiha. 

“Izuna!” Madara sprinted towards his brother, his eyes filled with worry at seeing his brother injured by none other than your elder brother, Tobirama.  

“You cannot win against me, Madara..” Hashirama donned an expression that was both determined and anxious. “So, Why don’t we end this.?” 

Your eyes widened at your elder brother’s proposal. You knew that Hashirama still believed that peace was achievable between the Uchiha and the Senju — but to ask Madara straight to his face? After his brother had just been injured by your own brother?? Just what was he thinking? Your eyes were fixated on Madara and Izuna, not knowing what their next move would be. 

As soon as Hashirama finished talking about his ideas for peace, Izuna spoke up to his elder brother. “No, big brother..” Izuna pleaded, “Do not be deceived by them..” And because a brother’s word is more valuable than the words of an ex friend, Madara headed his brother's word by throwing a smoke bomb and retreating along with the rest of his clan. 

Peace would not be achieved that day. 

The days after the encounter, your hope was diminishing more and more. But you wouldn’t give up. Your brother wouldn’t either, though Tobirama was more cautious of him. Tobirama understood that Hashirama and you still saw the little boy from the river, but he couldn’t wrap his head around why you two tried so hard to make peace with him. However, as long as his siblings held a hope for peace, Tobirama would support the two of you as much as he could. 

Soon enough, the day came when you would meet Madara face to face alongside your brothers. You noticed that Izuna was not among the Uchiha and your heart ached for Madara. He wouldn’t show it, but you knew he was hurting. 

You could also tell that there was something different about Madara.. His eyes.

“My little brother ended up dying from that day’s wounds..” Madara began to speak, his tone laced with venom. “..Leaving me with powers that will protect the Uchiha!” Faster than you could comprehend his words, a giant blue phantom-like creature made from Madara’s chakra alone arose from the ground. But this did not shake Hashirama, nor you. 

“I sent you a ceasefire agreement!” Hashirama reminded his old friend, “If you truly want to protect the Uchiha, let's stop fighting!” Before you could even say anything, Madara’s voice resounded throughout the battlefield. 

“Hashirama! How long will you keep saying such juvenile things?!” His long black hair swished in the air, he was confident that today, he would avenge his people and most importantly, his brother. Unfortunately for him, the battle ended with his back on the ground, Hashirama kneeled beside him. 

“Madara, You’re finished..” Tobirama glared at him, his sword just inches above Madara. 

Your eyes widened and you quickly sprinted over to where your brothers were, “Tobirama, Wait!” You worriedly shouted, hoping he’d hear it despite your distance. You didn’t notice Madara’s eyes flickering over to you. Hashirama backed you up saying, “Wait, Tobirama.” But this would not deter your elder brother. 

“Why, Elder brother?! This is our chance!” Tobirama spoke passionately, clearly ticked off by the words that came out of your mouths. Why were you so opposed to it? If he just ended Madara right here and now, the fighting would end! Couldn’t you understand??

Hashirama glared up at his younger brother, “No one touches him!” Hashirama had never been one to yell, but at this moment you could tell it was critical. Tobirama lowered his sword, withdrawing upon hearing his brother’s words. He wasn’t shocked to find you kneeling next to Madara, opposite to Hashirama, and healing his injuries. 

“Hmph, Just get it over with, Hashirama..” said the Uchiha, “It would be an honor.. ..to die by your hand.” His words tore your heart to shreds. He was so ready to give his life up.. Did he really not see any other way? Before you could shed any tears of frustration, Hashirama began to speak. 

“Quit the posturing. If I kill the clan head like this, the younger Uchiha who follow you shall run amok again.” Hashirama tried to make a point, but Madara quickly refuted it. 

With sorrowful words, Madara spoke, “There isn’t anyone left with such pluck among the Uchiha-” 

“No, there is always someone.” Your elder brother’s tone was confident. “Can’t we just skip stones again, like in olden times? Together..” Your expression softened as you listened to your brother's words. Those days seemed so far and yet, you held them so close to your heart. Just as he did. You looked down at Madara, feeling the strings of your heart pull as you looked upon his tired visage. 

“That’s not possible, you and I are no longer the same.” Madara spoke with such finiteness. As if his words were solid and the conversation was to die there. It made you frustrated because you believed in the hope that you pursued alongside your brother for so long. “I don’t have a single brother left.. and I just can’t trust you.” You slightly winced at the mention of his brothers, remembering how he had told you he was one of five.. You’d be a liar to say you didn’t empathize with him. 

Hashirama looked at his former friend with the last glimmer of hope in his brown eyes, “Is there.. No way I can convince you?” You searched Madara’s face, your expression brightening when he mentioned that there was one way. But your face fell once you heard his next words. 

“Either kill your brother.. Or kill yourself, right now.” Madara looked upon their shocked expressions. He heard your breath hitch and saw how your two brothers froze. “..And then we’ll be even.. I’d be willing to trust your clan.” 

You ripped your gaze away from Madara and looked into your brother's eyes anxiously. Of course, you should’ve known by now that he would not kill Tobirama. So the only option was.. To kill himself. So with a smile, your eldest brother got up and began to take off his armor. “Thank you, Madara. You really are kind hearted.” You were confused, what was so kind-hearted about this.

“Big brother, don’t do this..!” You pleaded. You stood up, worried at what your brother would do. 

“Listen Tobirama, _____… Carve into your heart these final words of mine,” Hashirama began as he took out a kunai. “Words that I shall be exchanging with my life. You too, my fellow clan members.” Your heart was racing and you could feel your nails dig into the skin of your palms. You had to hold yourself back or you’d rip out the kunai from your brother’s hand. 

“After my death, do not kill Madara. I forbid any fighting between Uchiha and Senju.” Your elder brother instructed, “Swear this right now, upon our fathers and yet unborn children!” You met Tobirama’s panicked eyes. It wasn’t often he demonstrated emotions in front of the enemy, but this was different. Hashirama really was going to kill himself. “Farewell!” Your brother said with a smile. 

“Brother, No!” You reached out to Hashirama but Tobirama stopped you. “Wha.. What are you doing, Tobirama? He's really going to do it!” You pleaded with your elder brother. It was then that you had seen that he was just as worried as you were yet, he didn’t move an inch to stop him. You saw a single tear escape the eyes of your dear elder brother and you could feel your heart breaking in two as you held onto Tobirama’s sleeve to ground yourself.

This was your brother. The one who had protected you from enemy clans since your youth. The one who trained you to become stronger so you could fend for yourself. He taught you the ways of a medic ninja and helped you master the art. He was the one who helped you hope for peace when you had none..! Tears flowed from your eyes, you had never imagined a world in which you would live without Hashirama.. And now..?

As your brother moved to plunge the kunai into his heart and end his life, you witnessed Madara spring up and grab onto his hand before Hashirama could do anything. You let out a breath you had been holding in and your grip loosened around Tobirama’s sleeve. What was he doing? “Enough..” Madara spoke. Hashirama looked just as surprised as you did. “I.. have now seen your guts.” 

Madara acknowledged your brother for the first time in years. This was a sign of times changing, and for once you realized that peace really was achievable. That for the first time in ages.. The Senju and the Uchiha would be at peace. 

There would be no more fighting. 

The moments that followed after seemed so surreal to you. 

Seeing Madara shake hands with your eldest brother to signify that there would be peace between the two clans gave you an unimaginable sense of peace and satisfaction. This had been the result of years of your shared hope coming to fruition and you couldn’t be more joyful. 

Now, both Uchiha and Senju were building homes alongside one another. Uchiha children played along with children of the Senju clan and there was no amnesty between the two of the most powerful clans, but instead peace. 

“It’s different, huh?” You walked up to your old friend with a small smile on your face. You hadn’t been able to talk to him much due to all of you being busy with getting Konohagakure established, but this afternoon was one of the rare days you were able to get some rest. 

“Very.” His long black hair swayed in the wind. You stood next to him upon the cliff where the two of you could see all of Konohagakure. You could see the small village that was beginning to form, nothing but joy could fill your heart at the sight of it. 

“How are you? It’s been a while since we last.. Talked.” you spoke calmly. 

“...We achieved all that we wanted.” Madara’s words were true but ..something was off. 

You snuck a glance at the man beside you, his expression holding too much emotion but none that was visible. “Are you happy?” you asked him genuinely. 

“.. I suppose I should be.” Madara let out a sigh, deciding to sit down and watch the sun set before him. 

“So you’re not.” You murmured while you knelt down to sit beside him. The leaves on the trees swayed serenely as the wind blew through them. 

“Izuna would have..” Madara trailed off. He hated the way his old habit of letting his tongue slip around you had resurfaced so easily. You see, Madara was a man of few words whenever it came to his feelings. But whenever he was around you, it was like his tongue had a mind of its own and began disclosing more about himself than he intended to. “.. I suppose this is what all your hope has led to. Are you happy?” 

You let the wind softly caress your face as you contemplated your next words. “I’m happy that Hashirama’s dream has become reality. But..” You smiled to yourself, feeling Madara’s intense gaze on you. “My dream has yet to become reality.” 

“Was this not your dream?” Madara asked curiously. You turned to look at him, admiring how despite the both of you growing older, he still resembled the little boy from the river from years ago. 

“It was one of them,” You admitted, “But my dream is something a little more selfish.” 

Madara gave you a look of confusion. To him, you were anything but selfish. Of course, you weren’t perfect either, you too had killed members of his clan.. But you were more pure than most. He supposed.. “Selfish? How so?” 

“I..” You chuckled and hugged your knees to your chest, “It’s embarrassing.” Madara gazed at your form, clearly this time. He remembered how whenever you seemed to have a lot on your mind, you would hug your knees close to you. Old habits die hard, he guessed. 

He scoffed, “You’ve fought with me on the battlefield fearlessly but you won’t tell me your dream because of a little embarrassment? How laughable,” Madara’s taunts were something you secretly missed. His witty remarks and confidence were something that had not changed throughout the years clearly. 

“That’s..!” You sighed, “Do you really want to know that bad?” You rested your chin above your knees and looked out to the settlement in an attempt to distract yourself. 

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know, now would I?” Madara stole a glance at you, looking at the way the light of the sunset washed upon you. He didn’t know what your next words would be, but he certainly did not expect it to be-

“My dream.. Is for you to be at peace.”

[kotonoba]

I had to write this before I went to bed, sure I got yelled at, but I feel better now.

This story is an AU of the main Narutoverse – like, after the final fight with Madara. Prequel to Daybreak, the reader, doesn’t remember anything that happened in the pure lands. Because Daybreak is purely Madara/Reader. In a sense, she chose Madara over Hashirama.

------------------------------------------------

They say ghosts with obsessions tend to follow on even if the world were uninhabitable. Maybe they were right because whatever Hashirama was experiencing after arriving in the pure lands – this thing was obsessive and complicated to get rid of. Even though he had settled everything he had ever wanted, he talked it out with Madara despite starting a whole war on humanity. He still couldn’t pass on to the next life. 

Maybe… something was bugging him still. Madara told him: “she had feelings for you, don’t you know!?” He knew. But his marriage was political; even so, he had to uphold his end of the deal to secure the Uzumaki clan in Konohagakure; he couldn’t be selfish about it. After hearing that, even arriving in the pure lands, he couldn’t stop feeling guilty for what happened. If only he had gone with her, if only he had thought that distance would protect her. 

He was wrong. 

He hid his sadness by marking her as M.I.A., so people would stop bugging him about her, so he could forget – so people wouldn’t see how much he loved her. Even being with Mito was different. Although he found it very easy to love her, there was still a part of him missing. He and Madara fought every day about it, Madara’s eyes blinded with rage – he knew his best friend was over the moon for her. So was he. 

But that only made it worse on his mentality. He couldn’t bring himself to see her corpse, so he had asked the Kirigakures to help him get rid of her body. Hashirama thought he had hidden it well, but Tobirama and Mito always saw through. They did their best to comfort him – though, Tobirama’s way of comforting hurts more than it reassured him. 

Even after the final fight with Madara, he had arrived before his best friend did; he probably had an established place, a hut in a village of others waiting for their loved ones. He had seen Mito here, but she said she was ready to move on before he was – he now returned to an empty house. Not that Mito lived with him in the pure lands in the first place. They were more like neighbors because he had been more honest since he had arrived in the pure lands. 

As of late, he had been waiting for his best friend to arrive in the pure lands. He had been tending flowers and the plants in his yard to busy himself. But recently, his plants have been plucked out, and the gardening gnomes he had placed around thinking it was the deers had been getting progressively larger. It was every morning; no matter how early he woke up, they would get bigger. Even though he was in the pure lands now, his neighbors thought he was haunted. 

He often tried to stay up and catch the gnomes doing their deeds. Until one tepid summer evening, he saw a dubious shadow raiding his yard, and he checked the time – 3:15 AM. He had passed out trying to stay up. As quiet as he could make it in the pure lands where the laws of chakra do not apply, and everyone here is just everyday citizens waiting for others, he did his best to catch the culprit. He snuck up from behind and pounced on them like a tiger hungrily pouncing on its prey. 

“Hashi – I know you’re excited, but you don’t need to break my bones even after I’ve passed, yeah?” He couldn’t get rid of the voice that always sang medleys to him while he was so caught up with war and peace against the Uchihas – he always sought out this voice to comfort him and lull him to sleep. Even after so many years, he recognized this voice. This same voice that hid when her heart was broken by him, to cry out her pain all alone. 

“Y/N…?” He was frozen from that, quickly rolling off of her to lay beside her on the patch of barren land beside him. “I’m…!!!” 

Tender hands quickly pressed against his mouth, “shhh, I know,” she smiled; warm streams immediately flooded his tear ducts, his hands moving to grip her hand; he couldn’t control the streams flooding out of his eyes. “I’m glad you reciprocated those feelings. I would have understood if you told me it was a political marriage,” she was so understanding, even though he knew she’d just hurt herself more trying to understand it. 

He pried her hand away to pull her into a bear hug, “don’t force yourself, Y/N; I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for hurting you – if only – if only I had –” he was pulled out of his thoughts when she had pulled him into an impulsive kiss, one that he hungrily pulled her in for more. 

One was not enough. He wanted more; he regretted not following his heart back then; he wouldn’t let this opportunity slip once more –but she had pulled back, a satisfied look washing over her tender features. She glanced over his desperate plea for more, then back at her hands as they disintegrated into the night’s embrace’s solace. 

“No…” 

“Thank you, but I shouldn’t anchor you down anymore. I should move on, thank you for everything,” why was she so eager to move on – he hadn’t had enough; he would never have enough. As he reached out to grasp at what was left of her disintegrating body, the particles slipped away like water, “thank you for loving me back.” Her voice echoed in his mind. 

The tepid midnight that befalls his heart was heavier than the rain that pelted the wounds his best friend decorated him with during their final battle; this time, he won’t break her heart.

-------------------------------------------------

Inspired by this.

Cloudy's AO3

[thou-can-say-azrail]

obidei because why tf not (i have way to many ships with dei yikes)

ok this ship is fucking hilarious and i love it almost as much as itadei because, yes, it seems like pure crack on first sight and should not make sense but it has so much potential (the possible angst and fluff and smut i am) but you know me and we are here for the crack

first of all: obito would be confused af because...he literally started a war over this one girls death and she was an angel and kind (i love her) and then there is dei who will blow you up for absolutely no reason or cause he thinks its funny (i love him even more) and he would tell himself thats unreasonable and stuff but then dei comes in the room shirtless and just out of the shower and there he goes....pining again

and tf is he even supposed to do? go to zetsu and say: “yk how there was this war thing? yeah turns out childhood crushes are temporary and i found someone who i would very much like to date in real life and shit so can we just forget the whole thing with the fake reality, thx?” 

then there is dei who i am 100% convinced would be so mortified about having a crush on fucking tobi and then flat out falling in love with obito uchiha after he reveals his identity

and deidara is so different from these clichè love interests of the “villain” (i refuse to see my son as a real villain i am sry)  like these kind people who will convince them to be better and who see through the masks and shit and fall in love with the good in them nope, he would see obito for the first time without a mask on a battlefield surrounded by corpses and faint (cause he is so fricking hot that i am still not over it ngl) 

the next reason and most important one for me is simple: the drama imagen the world at war and kakashi still shocked about obito and the nations still fucked cause madara and everybody is done with this shit and there comes the akatsuki (edo tensei, still alive idc) and claim they want to help and everybody is suprised and sceptical (cause mass murderes yk it) but also: who tf would say no to the help of s-rank nin in a war 

and they expected many things.... powerful jutsus, them fighting with their great strengh but all they do is step to the side to let deidara through and he takes a deep breath and starts chewing out his bf in front of the whole shinobi alliance and madara uchiha (this is sending me rn)

deidara: *ranting for 5min non stop*

everybody, just awkwardly standing there: tf

kakashi: *confused af* cause this is obito? and he is alive? and the main villain? but why can the blond one talk to him like that? hold up is that the crazy one with the bombs, why tf him ?!?!

team 7, who have all interacted with deidara before and (like everybody else there) can not believe he could have an actual relationship with feelings: what

obito: dei pls-

deidara: oh dont you dare dei me, tf is this shitshow supposed to be? a fucking genjutsu, are you shitting me? do you want me to come up there and punch you?

and obito uchiha, jinchuriki of the juubi, half hashirama cells that heal him instantly, wielder of the mangekyo sharingan and rinnegan: *backs slowly away and half hides behind madara*

everybody: ???????

(also the iwa ppl just watching and being so fucking perplexed like they literally told everybody deidara was batshit and here he is scaring his, apparently, bf (they wont ever be able to wrap their heads around the fact that somebody would want to date dei, ignorant fools all of them) who is powerful enough to wipe the floor with the bijuu)

[sanjuno]

Meta Fic rides again

I'm a little stuck on how to word something in my Nano 2020 project so I decided to take a break by trying to read “Scum Villain’s Self Saving System” again and failed horribly because I got to the part when Binghe comes back and my interest died a quick and messy death for yet a third time. Someone write me a giant pile of gen-fic and LiuShen AUs to heal my heart.

Here, I’ll start us off:

Spite and Fury (or; PEDW is a hive of Scum and Villainy)

So bitter-old-man!Madara dies of old age after he passes his Epic Revenge Plot over into Obito’s keeping, and the Sage’s knockoff-brand cycle-of-transmigration peels Indra’s chakra out of Madara’s soul - which results in dying!Madara having a screaming ragefit that sends his spirit-and-chakra careening through the void between worlds

At which point shattered-and-fragmenting-more!Madara gets into an altercation with the System and since the System is a little bitch it tosses Madara into the worst possible Fate it can think of (see: PEDW)

Transmigration bullshit and Sharingan fuckery smash into each other in a gigantic clusterfuck of asspulls

Madara is missing bits because Indra’s imprint got ripped out

The Shen Jiu base soul is missing bits because torture and previous abuse of his character by the System

The resulting villain amalgamation is Not Pleased

Instead of landing in the divergence point chosen by the System - aka the Qi deviation fever shortly after Binghe arrives at Cang Qiong Sect – we instead have the jigsaw puzzle mashup of Mads-and-Jiu land in baby-slave Jiu’s body

The good news is Madara and Jiu stop fragmenting because they end up woven together - they’re stuck together as an almost-single person only with two different sets of memories

Character exploration is going to be an EVENT

Also the Madara part of them is really happy with the silky smooth hair

Also Yue “lets-Binghe-kill-him-because-he-thinks-Shen-Jiu-is-dead” Qi is cast is a much better light when compared to Senju “stabs-his-sworn-brother-in-the-back” Hashirama

So Mads-Jiu plays it close to canon for the first few years - the only real difference is that he tags his Jiejie with a tracking seal for after he escapes from slavery - he’s not leaving his ability to find her again up to chance or developing a reputation as a whoremonger if he can help it

When he gets bought by the Qiu is when Mads-Jiu starts being a manipulative little shit like we all know he is

Xanatos-pileup-or-bust!Mads-Jiu basically lets Yue Qi escape alone because he NEEDS Yue Qi to become Cang Qiong Sect Leader for his long-term plans to work properly

So Mads-Jiu warns Yue Qi that if he has to be CAREFUL because cultivating is dangerous and if Yue Qi comes back missing any pieces then Jiu will cut the EXACT SAME BITS OFF HIMSELF

And so Yue Qi is EXTREMELY safety conscious and the life eating sword drama is avoided entirely

Of course he’s also taking longer to reach his initial strength levels than in canon because he isn’t rushing

So there’s nothing like Yue Qi showing up early to trigger a plot divergence alert in the System

</mwahahaha>

Mads-Jiu is more pragmatic regarding Qiu Haitang’s so-called innocence this time around - and so he arranges for her to catch the Creeper Qiu bro abusing and assaulting Shen Jiu

Haitang is HORRIFIED AND DISGUSTED to see what her brother is doing to her fiancé and also TERRIFIED by the fact that he talks the entire time about how sweet it’s going to be when it’s HAITANG under him

The Qiu burn on schedule but Haitang kills her fair share - double Qi deviations FTW!

The system does not notice such a minor change in the background events - Jiu kills the Qiu, burns down their house, and Haitang survives the fire with vengeance raging in her heart

Mads-Jiu kills the demonic creeper that was hanging around because ew no and also keep your hands of Haitang

Again, it’s too close to canon for the System to notice - Jiu killed him in defense of a “childhood friend” so hahaha again

Instead of being used as a stalking horse by an evil master Mads-Jiu runs off with Haitang to track down and rescue his Jiejie

Shenanigans ensue

Afterwards Mads-Jiu “has an idea to help find Qi-ge” by asking around for him at the Immortal Alliance Conference

Of course there are more shenanigans and Yue Qi saves all three by claiming that they’re Cang Qiong disciples - so of course he drags all 3 of them back with him and wibbles at the current Sect Leader until he lets them all join

Still (mostly) following canon! Ha! So no “punishment” events get triggered in the System (which is mostly dormant because the Protagonist isn’t born yet XP)

Qiu Haitang was supposed to join a Sect! Jiejie got sold on schedule! Shen Jiu killed the Qiu and his “first master”! Yue pesters his Shizun into letting his sibling(s) join the Sect in an unorthodox fashion!

But the devil is in the details

And the devil’s name is Uchiha Madara

Jiejie ends up as Peak Lord for Talisman Peak because magic and seals saved her before

Haitang ends up Peak Lord for Hidden Peak because she refuses to be caught unawares by a dangerous secret ever again... also because she’s a mean sneaky bitch and owns it

Having more than one sibling for the Sect Leader to blatantly favour means less wholesale resentment directed at Mads-Jiu as well

However the Jiu part of them has memories from PIDW and also SVSSS - so he knows that shit is going to get horrible once Su Xiyan gets knocked up

Obviously the answer is to seduce all of his fellow peak lords into a glorious polyamorous clusterfuck so as to promote skinship and pack bonding and harmony among the sect leadership

(It worked for PIDW Binghe with his wives and SVSSS Shen Yuan with getting Bing-mei to chill his tits after all and nobody can trip you into bed quite like a shinobi)

And so Cang Qiong’s family aesthetics get rocked so hard that instead of panting after his Shizun baby disciple Binghe decides to seduce his peers...

... and his rivals

... and other sect’s disciples

... and the occasional demon

Mads-Jiu is really proud of his baby demon lord but makes sure not to single Binghe out - instead every Qing Jing disciple gets rewarded and punished at the same time

It promotes bonding! And teamwork!

And prevents the utter destruction of Mads-Jiu’s chrysanthemum via oversized demonic pillar!

There is totally going to be an extra where Mads-Jiu realizes that the average size of a male cultivators pillar is DANGEROUSLY EXCESSIVE

NOBODY NEEDS THAT MUCH PILLAR

Even HIS pillar hasn’t escaped the curse

BIGGER IS NOT BETTER!

How the fuck is he supposed to fight if he can’t even wear pants comfortably!?!?

(No wait come back Mu-shidi this shixiong is sorry it wasn’t mockery it was a perfectly reasonable tantrum that was a long time coming now stop sulking your dick is very pretty let shixiong make it up to you~)

And at some point there will be a wild Bing-ge who appears to cause trouble with a mirror that’s intended to temporarily transform people into the form of their last life - he aims it at the native Bingbing to get him out of the way so he can steal the “nice” Shizun

It would have been Pom time for Bingbing but Mads-Jiu pushes him out of the way

And cue giant explosion of dark Qi as a bonus expansion pack of Madara’s 10-tail Jinchuriki time with powers-and-memories gets downloaded into Mads-Jiu

Mads-Jiu the “Heavenly Demon Demi God” drops several mountains worth of flaming meteor rock on the invaders and then goes on a giant flaming skeleton rampage against Bing-ge

... Bing-ge has changed his mind he doesn’t want this Shizun take him back and oh gods the shrieking

How does he shriek so loud? Doesn’t he need to breathe?

... ok so Shizun breathes fire that’s good to know

Whelps time to bravely run away

And then the amassed sects need to figure out how to calm down the rampaging hell beast

The youngest Qing Jing disciple is brought out and told to cry for Shizun

Actually-a-broody-hen!Mads-Jiu whips around and starts fussing over his baby student

Because baby why are you crying stop it tell Shizun who hurt you and he will BURN THEM TO ASH

The last bit I have an idea for involves Mads-Jiu getting yanked though dimensions because Edo Tensei where he instantly twigs to what is going on and pushes the “righteous cultivator” skin to maximum strength

He shoves all the baby ninja behind him and keeps barrier spamming the zombie army - because ew no stay away from the children resentful corpses

Zetsu is included in the zombie army shall not pass smack down

Zombie!Tobirama is appalled because wut? Wasn’t this supposed to be Madara’s zombie? What is happening?

And I dunno something where he “notices” the resentful energy surrounding Danzo because stealing the eyes of the people you murdered is bad karma

So Mads-Jiu does a spirit thing and the ghosts of the Uchiha rips Danzo apart while screaming about his guilt in full view of the entire Village

And then Mads-Jiu goes home because filial little Bingbing came to get him and he’s not enjoying upending the shinobi social order nope not at all whom exactly do you take him for?

... Yes he’s done and ready to go back to his spouses now he’s sure the ninja have all learned better than to raise living corpses now anyway

The end

=/=

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fic: Lonely, Dark and Deep - ao3 link - Chapter 8

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Madara/Tobirama, background others Summary:

Hashirama was always going to have to leave Konoha behind one day, but no one was expecting for it to happen so soon.

Tobirama falls apart without his brother.

Madara, mad and bitter and preparing to leave himself, finds that he’s now without his best friend and responsible for a village he’d just about given up on.

And now it seems like there’s something not quite right with the forest…

———————————————————————————–

"No."

"I'm not sure where you got the impression that you were being given a choice," Touka says dryly. Madara's actually grown moderately fond of her, beserker ‎of a kunoichi that she is, over the last few years, but he's seriously considering whether blowing a fireball at her head would be considered overreacting. Sadly, it probably would. Whether that’s going to stop him is still up in the air. "You were the Nidaime's right hand. You're going on the ballot."

"You can't actually make me be Hokage," Madara says.

"Why not?" Touka asks, merciless as ever. "We made Hashirama do it."

Madara...really doesn't like the sound of that, because if you look at it in a certain light, they did. Not a promising precedent.

"I'm objecting to the fact that there's a ballot at all," he says instead. "We don't even have a body -"

"His students were very clear about the circumstances he was left in - and that was two weeks ago."

"It's Tobirama! If anyone can pull some sort of ridiculous nonsense out of thin air -"

"He had an opportunity to give his life for the village," Touka says, and she doesn't mean to be cruel with it, that's the worst part. He knows that her cousin’s suffering has hurt her as much as it's grown to hurt Madara. "A justified opportunity. You know as well as I do that he would take it."

Madara does. But he's had enough.

Enough of pointless losses, enough of war, shocking as it is to say. ‎They're going to make Kiri pay for this, of course they are, but -

All Madara wants is to get to bury his friend (his almost-something-more) this time.

To mourn properly.

(Not to be the last one of them left standing.)

‎"I'm going to go find his body," he announces.

Touka sighs. "Listen -"

"Put my name on the stupid ballot, I don't care," Madara interrupts. "But I'm going. This isn't like Hashirama, disappearing into nothingness; Tobirama was fighting flesh-and-blood shinobi. Either Kiri left his body behind for sky to bury or they took it back with them. There's even a chance - marginal, I admit, but a chance - that they managed to take him alive. I'm going to make sure that's not what happened."

Touka's frowning, but she seems more inclined to listen.

Good, because Madara's not going to take no for an answer.

"We already have an empty mausoleum for Hashirama," he points out‎. "As you're always observing, twice makes for a tradition. We wouldn't want that."

Touka unwillingly snorts. "Fine," she says. "Go. But mind that you come back. You may be old for a frontliner -"

Madara is not that old!

"- but your name still means something in terms of village defense," she concludes. "Don't let these Kiri bastards write both your names on their wall of trophies or we’ll never hear the end of it."

"I won't," Madara promises.

He leaves the village three hours later, after giving Hikaku - his second, now that Izuna isn't there - notice of his sudden promotion to temporary acting head of the Uchiha clan.

He makes good time. Tobirama's students (they reminded him so much of ducklings, following along behind Tobirama, that he had to remind himself not to call them that to their faces) had given him a pretty good idea of where they'd been when they'd split up, and while Tobirama would have branched off from there, Madara is certain that he can track him.

After all, after all this time spent sparring against Tobirama - and might he say, his respect for Izuna's skills was never higher than when he was fighting the man who was his brother’s opponent - Madara knows what the aftereffects of his jutsus look like better than most.

He forces himself to pace himself on the way, though. As much as he would like this to be a rescue mission, requiring full-bore speed, it's not.

It's just retrieval.

Tobirama’s already gone.

Why is it, he wonders, that every time he starts to admit to himself that he could grow to love someone, they die?

What he has with Tobirama isn’t about the village anymore, not about Hashirama, it's about Tobirama himself - he can admit that, if only to himself, now that Tobirama is gone.

Tobirama is irritating, overly literal and works too much, and Madara had already been missing him like fire even before he’d gotten word that he was gone forever.

But really, Madara’s losses are starting to be too many to count. Izuna, ever a gaping wound, was bad enough, but then he lost Hashirama,‎ too, and now Tobirama as well...is it him? Is he the connecting factor, the bad luck?

Was it Izuna’s ghost come back to snatch away any chance of the new happiness he’d just about nearly convinced himself he could find in the softening of Tobirama’s eyes?

Still, pacing or no pacing, Madara is still who he is. He makes good time and, sure enough, it only takes a day or so to locate what must have been the battle site.

‎The first thing Madara sees is the corpses of Kiri nin piled up and twisted into a defensive wall and he can't help a smile: Tobirama's total disregard for the bodies of the dead never fails to amaze him.

Then he takes a deep breath, fortifying himself, and looks around further.

And that‎ -

That’s when things stop making sense.

He knows these corpses.

Madara never doubted that Tobirama would put up a fight to the end, passively suicidal or not - the man was far too spiteful to do anything less, and really, it's Madara's own fault that he didn't force his clan to make peace earlier because Tobirama and Izuna were two peas in a pod when it came to that. Even less did he doubt that such a fight‎ would have a significant death count, enough to ferry Tobirama to the Pure Lands in style.

But - those were Kinkaku and Ginkaku. Amazingly strong, but ruthless, and cowards to boot: they would have hung back until the very end, letting Tobirama tire ‎himself on their soldiers and moving in to claim the final kill only when his chakra was totally depleted and his body broken.

If they were dead...

Madara casts his eyes across the rest of the battlefield with hope rising like a fire in his belly. These are all of Kiri's strongest, all the ones they devoted to this battle - Kagami had returned with his Mangekyo sparked from Tobirama's loss, and he'd had his Sharingan active the entire battle; he'd given Madara a list of every shinobi on Kiri's side, and this is everyone.

And - and here was what really didn't make sense - their deaths were wrong.

Tobirama had attained mastery over all elements, ridiculous ‎overachiever that he was, but like most shinobi he fell back on his natural affinities when cornered. Water and lightning and sword - those were the signs of Tobirama's fighting, and while there were a good number of those lying around, that wasn't what had killed the majority of the Kiri warriors.

No - what had killed them was wood.

Wood splinters grown through the mouth or the back of the neck to pierce the brain; wooden spears to impale the heart; tree roots wrapped around the throat to strangle...

Madara fought the Mokuton for most of his life. He, more than anyone, knows what a battlefield looks like, after; he knows how to recognize the bodies it leaves behind.

‎But it's impossible.

Hashirama is gone, and for all their mastery or science, neither Tobirama nor Madara has any access to that mysterious Senju bloodline limit.

At least, Madara thought they didn't. Has Tobirama been holding out on him?

Madara licks suddenly dry lips. It suddenly occurs to him that it doesn't matter, not really. What matters is - if Tobirama did figure out a way to use the Mokuton - if every single one of the Kiri shinobi are dead -

Tobirama might be alive.

He could be dead of chakra exhaustion, too, but Tobirama had once explained - on one of those dark nights when everything seemed bleak and they both missed Hashirama like drowning men missed air, when they sat together on the roof and looked down at the village they'd created together and drank Hashirama's favorite sake to pretend that he had only just gone down the hall to get more - that he'd deliberately sealed away an infinitely small portion of his chakra for just such an eventuality.

Tobirama had been the only Senju capable of giving Hashirama a good ‎spar, he’d explained, in the years before Madara was available as anything other than an enemy on the battlefield and he'd been determined to be what his brother needed, even if it meant going far, too far, beyond what he could handle. The seal was designed to activate in the event that all his chakra was gone, sending Tobirama into a deathlike coma meant to conserve his strength until he could awaken once more. He'd understood the risks, of course, but he was a Senju: he had no fear of being buried alive in the welcoming earth, should it come to that.

Tobirama, alive..!

Madara curses himself for not having listened to his instincts and run here as quickly as possible, and immediately starts searching the area.

It occurs to him as he does that the bodies around him are decayed more than they should be - moss and lichen and mushrooms eating up the soft flesh, bones already showing - and he wonders if Tobirama has played some trick with time to accomplish it.

Well, if Tobirama is alive, Madara will just have to ask him about it.

The possibility excites him.

He starts a systematic search of the area, straining his sensor abilities (above-average when compared to anyone but Tobirama) to the limit and covering each twist and turn of land, careful to test each square inch for jutsu designed to hide things or confuse the senses.

Even so, it takes nearly two days of nothing, nothing, and more nothing – no sign of Tobirama, but no sign of a body, either, and that gives him hope – before he finally catches a break.

It’s faint – extremely faint – but Madara’s learned Tobirama’s signature as well as his own through the long nights of working on the Rinnegan together, and it’s unmistakable.

It’s Tobirama.

He’s alive!

Madara whoops, entirely undignified, and dashes off in that direction. It’s not far away, but it’s deep, very deep. Tobirama must have found some cave or cavern to crawl into to recuperate.

It takes some searching to find it – actually, Madara doesn’t find a proper entrance at all and ends up just burrowing into the ground with a doton jutsu – but soon enough he’s in the cavern, which is dark as pitch, and he can hear Tobirama’s voice distantly up ahead of him.

He's there!

He’s alive!

He’s – recounting a story about the village?

“– and then Madara says, ‘You don’t actually think that, do you’,” Tobirama is saying. He sounds…happy? Extremely tired, but oddly happy. Perhaps being so close to death has reminded him of all the reasons he has to be alive. “And then, of course, the Hyuuga leader puffs himself up and says, ‘Are you calling me a liar’ and Madara responds ‘Listen, if what you want is to start measuring dicks I’m willing to pull mine out right now –’”

…why is Tobirama telling that story.

He promised to stop telling people that story.

(Actually, he’d dealt with the situation as sternly as ever and then, the second the still-blustering Hyuuga had left, put his face on the desk and let his shoulders shake with laughter for nearly ten minutes, which had been the one bright spot of a fairly awful day. And then Tobirama couldn’t even look at any Uchiha or Hyuuga for the next week after without smirking. But he had said he would stop telling everyone about it eventually, though he’d refused to indicate when ‘eventually’ would be.)

“– yes, I know, right? Much less shy, especially compared to when he was a child –”

Ugh. Speaking of Senju spreading stories they promised they wouldn’t, has Hashirama told everyone about that particular incident? Madara really hopes not.

Still: embarrassing stories or not, Tobirama’s alive and that means everything.

“Tobirama!” Madara calls out.

Silence. And then – “Madara? Is that you?”

“Yes! Hold up, I’m coming towards you now.”

It’s harder than it looks, given how dark it is in the cave even with the advantage of the Sharingan; Tobirama must be entirely blind. A strange place for a suiton user to hide, deep in the ground, but Madara supposes that growing up in a doton-inclined clan might have that effect.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Tobirama says. His voice is slurring a little from exhaustion – and blood loss, undoubtedly; he can’t be fully healed yet given the amount of blood he left behind on the battlefield. “You’ll be so happy when you find out, just like me…”

Madara has half a second to wonder what Tobirama could have found down in a cave like this that he thinks would make Madara happy - another stone tablet, perhaps?‎ - before he makes his way into the cavern where Tobirama waits.

He sees -

Tobirama.

Alive, wonderful alive and somehow, after all this time and despite all odds, beloved. He's smiling, that crooked little lift of his lips that ‎softens his whole face, and he's - he's -

He's covered in roots.

Twining around his legs, resting on his shoulders, wrapped in a constrictor's embrace around his chest and narrow waist, even woven through his pale hair - everywhere.

And they're not normal roots, either: to his Sharingan, they shine bright in the dark, loaded heavy with chakra of a serene glowing gold that feels bafflingly familiar.

But at the same time, Madara's sure he's never seen anything like it before.

"Madara, I'm so glad you're here," Tobirama says, and he looks pleased, more than Madara has ever seen him, his eyes curved up into crescents with joy even though they are still only half-open, heavy with the call of sleep, and staring in Madara's general direction in a way that suggests Tobirama can't see but is relying on his sensing. Tobirama then reaches up a hand and puts it on the root on his shoulder, a familiar gesture, almost the way he would if it was someone's hand resting there - someone he liked, of course, because the vast majority of people would have their hand cut off for daring to place it there. Madara'd only recently been inducted into the ranks of those who could do it with impunity. "You'd never have believed it otherwise."

"Believed...?"

Tobirama’s lips stretch in a real smile, which for him is the equivalent to beaming. "I found Hashirama!"

Madara stares at his friend and sometimes-lover, wondering if he'd gone mad.

What in the world is he talking about? Is he suggesting that he found his brother's corpse and somehow pulled the Mokuton out of it – fine, that does sound like Tobirama, designing some forbidden jutsu that -

Something moves in the dark.

Madara's attention had been focused on Tobirama, overly focused in his relief, but his Sharingan misses nothing: his head snaps in the direction of the moving roots that someone is sending his way in some sort of large lumbering cluster -

Those...aren't roots.

Or, rather, they are.

But they shouldn’t be.

Gnarled bark and roots twist together to create a terrible mockery of a human body; it's the exact opposite of a wood clone, which accurately formed to resemble a person but living only to the extent of the chakra lent to it - this thing is bursting with life, with that strange gold chakra, and even as Madara watches a thin layer of moss grows over one 'arm' while a scattering of blue flowers appear to curl over the thing's shoulders. Its hands are too large to match the rest of its body, too-long splintering fingers with web-like veins running through every elongated joint; its legs are titanic, sinking deep into the ground like ancient tree trunks.

And its head: lined by a heavy fall of something not quite branches and not quite leaves, thin and willow-like and only vaguely resembling hair, its misshapen face has too much jaw, gaping open in something like a too-wide smile to reveal teeth made of needle-sharp splinters, and the eerie eyes, dark brown with a pupil of gold instead of black, are lined with dark red marks like heavy slashes seeping sap instead of blood.

It's a monster.

"Tobirama -" Madara starts, then stops.

Marks around the eyes.

Dark marks on that ‘face’, streaks of color, and in the center of the thing's forehead are two concentric circles.

No.

No.

The thing before him shifts forward, all of it moving at once and leaning towards him over Tobirama's smiling unseeing unknowing blindness.

"I'm so glad you're here, Madara," the thing says, and the familiar ‎voice it uses is only a little distorted (too many tones all at once, previously absent harmonics, a low rumbling pitch) from the one Madara once loved so dearly. "I missed you!"

And as much as Madara tries to convince himself that the whole horrific mess is just a monster, just a mimicry, just an illusion of the worst sort -

It's still recognizable as his best friend.

[uzumakinomegami]

How Konoha Treated Mito After The Nine-Tails Was Sealed Inside Her

Before sealing the fox into herself, Mito was viewed with great respect and admiration. This led to people treating her like a queen, valuing her opinions when Hashirama wasn't around to give his. She was the God of Shinobi's wife and, as such, she was held in very high regard within the newly formed Konohagakure. Her say held as much weight as Hashirama and Madara's did so she was often looked to as a council on matters to do with Konoha. She was an outsider but she was a respected outsider.

Once Madara attacked the village with Kurama, their opinions began changing. Hashirama requested she seal away the fox as he was too dangerous. She asked him where he wanted her to seal the fox into and he gave no certain answer, telling her that it didn't matter so long as he was away from the village. Mito chose to seal the fox within herself, a move that she knew would one day kill her, as a way of holding onto the power for Konoha in the future. The sealing alone caused her to fall into a week-long coma in which time she fought with the fox many times to prevent him from escaping. She eventually fashioned a makeshift cage for him that held him in place with her Adamantine Sealing Chains. This meant that for the rest of her life, she would have a constant drain on her chakra as she kept the fox subdued. 

The citizens of Konoha did not initially know of her status as a jinchuriki, due to her being in recovery and Hashirama wanting to ensure that she wouldn't lose control of Kurama, but eventually, they did find out. They found out after Hashirama and Mito collected the other Bijuu intending to sell them to other major villages to keep the peace. Mito had to reveal her status as a jinchuriki to the other Kage when they asked where the fox was then word travelled quickly and got twisted to paint Mito in a bad light.

Rumours spread that the only reason she sealed the fox inside herself was to one day destroy Konoha with it or that she only did so to become more powerful than even Hashirama. Neither rumour was true, of course, but that didn't stop the citizens of Konoha from treating her almost opposite to how they used to. Every time she went out, she'd have to watch as people that once loved her now stayed as far from her as possible while glaring at her as if she was the demon fox herself. 

While Hashirama, and even Tobirama, were alive and in power- Mito was treated with begrudging respect by everyone. Once Hiruzen came into power, Mito suddenly started getting attacked for no reason by people so she stayed inside her home instead of going out. If she needed to leave for any reason, she had to be sure that she took the least populous route to her destination. The council began to not listen to her advice while also managing to cram a wedge between Mito and Tsunade. 

Still, she held herself with grace and went about as if nothing had changed. Even if she was occasionally pelted with rocks or had vile words slung at her. Mito also continued to fight for Konoha in the wars, winning whole battles alone without any help from the fox. Some people still did respect her and they stuck up for her when no one else would, those people were silenced very quickly. Mito is not remembered fondly by many after she passes away, only the jinchuriki who value the lessons she passed on as the first, care to remember her with kind words. She did start a trend but she also sought to abolish it after she found out what other villages were doing to be like them. Mito left behind any information she could, handing it down to her successor as well as the people around Kushina who become jinchuriki also. 

She was not buried with respect or with her family. Mito was discarded like a lump of meat, buried in an unmarked grave outside of Konoha's walls. This was the choice of the council, to have her buried this way. They stated it was to protect her body from being dug up and experimented on but some knew that they saw her as an abomination who they wanted gone as soon as possible. It was only Kushina's influence that stopped them from outright just leaving her corpse to rot in the woods. They would have stooped to that if it meant ridding the world of the legacy of Uzumaki Mito.

[the-iron-fjord]

HERE’S PART 2 OF MY ULTRA-FANFIC

Scene 2: The Coronation

Supremely perfect Empress of the Leaf Village, Sakura Haruno wakes up on the day of her official coronation. Her worthless handmaidens Ten Ten, Ino, Shizune, and the worst one of all H*n*t* scurry over to the most concrete example of a strong female Shonen character and start to adorn her in her official coronation robes. “Goddess Empress of All Ninja” Infallible Queen Sakura muses to herself “Such a humble title for a great woman such as myself.” Suddenly, Sakura notices a stain on her robe, the size of a quarter. “WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS INSULT.” Sakura bellows, causing the worthless handmaids to shriek like mice. “I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-It’s just a small stain, your emperorship, I was going to tell you about it, and cover it up with my jutsu, b-b-b-b-but you summoned me before I could”, Ten Ten stuttered, tears flowing down her eyes. Sakura craned her swan-like neck, and simply muttered “Perish”. A gout of flame engulfs Ten Ten, crisping her into a fine black visage of herself, screaming in tremendous pain. The screaming was silenced as the flames made their way to her pathetic face, still twisted in horror. Sakura taps the blackened, still standing corpse, and it crumbles into dust. The three other worthless handmaids tremble in fear, and awe in what their Goddess Empress was capable of. “Tell the drycleaners to use their “Stain-no-jutsu and tell them not to keep their Goddess Empress waiting!” Sakura tells the three handmaidens.

After a short time, the new and improved robes are ready to be put on. When the useless handmaidens are done, Sakura looks at a standing mirror, to glimpse at the sheer beauty that would cause mere mortals to die looking at. With the preparations done, the two guardsmen, Kakashi and Guy open the large doors that lead to the Hokage’s Balcony, to the Goddess Empress’ adoring public. “Hokage: such an outdated, unworthy title for a Goddess such as myself” Sakura thought to herself, as an eruption of cheers emerges as Sakura walks gracefully to the edge of the balcony. “I will rule this village with both an iron fist, and a gentle fist, and shepherd these helpless cattle to their true destiny!”. Sakura reaches the balcony’s end, where a podium with a microphone are. Taking her time, the near-future ruler of All Ninja clears her throat so her obedient subjects can here the Voice of the Empress clearer. “My loyal subjects!” Sakura booms, the microphone carrying her Siren voice all over the Hidden Leaf Village. “After much deliberation amongst myself, and the former fat-chested Hokage, I have taken it upon myself to declare myself the Goddess Empress of the Hidden Leaf Village!” The crowd erupts into cheering, clapping, whooping, and cheers of “ALL HAIL SAKURA”, much to the pleasure of Sakura’s exquisite ears.

“The Four Kages will bow to my majestic diplomacy, and declare me, leader of the Ninja War, once I deliver the coup de grace upon the treacherous Madara Uchiha, and his army of darkness! We will protect all Jinchuriki, especially the most important one: The possessor of the Nine-Tailed Fox, and the only man worthy of me: NARUTO UZUMAKI!” On cue, Naruto jumps onto the balcony, right beside Sakura, flashing that goofy, idiotic smile she had come to love. Behind the both of them, the most worthless handmaiden H*n*t* chokes out a few sobs, seeing her childhood crush admiring her better. “Heh, you were never worthy to be together with Naruto” Sakura thinks to herself, as the tears flow out of H*n*t*’s filthy Hyuga eyes. Naruto produces a microphone of his own, using his Soundcheck-no-Jutsu. “BELIEVE IT!” Naruto yells into the microphone, and the crowd can no longer contain their excitement, and burst into a deafening cheer. H*n*t* tries to turn away, but you force her to look with your telekinetic abilities, the hidden Kekkei Genkai of the Haruno clan.

An old woman emerges from seemingly nowhere, holding the crown that Sakura will adorn on her head. Glittering gold, with as many gemstones that can be put on it, shining diamonds, polished pearls, ocean-esque sapphires and firey rubies. The front of the crown also possesses a gold plate with the words “Goddess Empress” on the front, meant to cover the expansive, lily white wall of flesh known as Sakura’s forehead. The old woman hands the crown over to Naruto, who in turn gently places it on Sakura’s head. The crowd reaches critical mass, as people start to cheer louder than they ever cheered before, clawing at each other and fighting each other to get a better view of the splendor that is their new Queen. Sakura smiles a small wisp of a smile, as her dream of being something far greater than Hokage comes to life.

As she begins to say the next lines in her speech, the sky begins to darken all over the Village. Explosions begin to fill the sky, and the cheers for the Empress turn into shrieks of terror, as an army of flying White Zetsu monkeys begin to descend on the crowd. The filthy creatures begin tearing villagers apart, while some of the Jonin doing crowd control earlier try to fight off the vile fiends.

“WHO DISRUPTS MY CORONATION!?” Sakura yells, stunning the White Zetsu Monkeys for a short period of time. The dark clouds part and emerging from the shining sunlight that was hidden a moment ago emerges the bane of all Ninja existence, Madara Uchiha. And I'm referring to Rinne Tensei Madara Uchiha with the Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan and Rinnegan doujutsus (with the rikidou paths ability) equipped with his Gunbai and control of the juubi and Gedou Mazou, a complete Susano'o, with Hashirama Senju's DNA implanted in his chest so he can perform Mokuton kekkei genkai and yin-yang release ninjutsu as well as being extremely skilled in taijutsu and bukijutsu.

“CORONATION SAKURA? THIS IS BAD COMEDY!” Madara retorts.

“MADARA, IS THAT YOU?” Sakura asked

“HERE’S A HINT!”

Madara Uchiha suddenly transforms into a large cannon, and shoots a vaporizing blast at Sakura, striking her and engulfing her an a purple glow. Sakura is stunned, and can only watch in horror, as she begins to turn gray and crumble into dust, leaving only her two disconnected legs. The crown tumbles downward, next to Naruto, his face frozen in terror. “BELIEVE IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTT!” Naruto screams desperately as he sees his one and only love reduced to ashes. Madara descends onto the balcony, stomping on the glorious crown, once adorned by the most beautiful woman in the Ninja World.

“Will anyone else attempt to fill her shoes?” Madara asks, as he begins to cackle maniacally. The crowd below screams in terror as the image of their newly crowned Goddess Empress dies unceremoniously. Naruto collapses to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably, choking out the occasional “Believe it”.

[lesbianideadump]

Bloody Hands - Whumptober 2nd

If anybody thought that Obito never gets nightmares, they were wrong. There's a reason Obito is called "the sleepless" in gossips of ANBU (who are like a bunch of squealing highschoolers, sometimes funny, other times not so much). Obito gets nightmares all the time. He would've taken pills to take a normal, long sleep, but that won't ever be the case because he doesn't really need to sleep. Rin didn't believe that one quite, neither Kushina did, but after testing it a few times they got to the conclusion that Obito sleeps only because he misses it, just like eating (that got kind of logical as they saw Obito's "clay half" as most of his comrades calls it, the consistency is not near clay, but it is not flesh... not human flesh at least).

Uchiha Obito's world comes crashing down frequently.

The first time it came crashing down, was when he was small. Too small to even know when did it happen. But he remembers the warmth of his mother's embrace when she held him close to her chest while looking down at an unmoving corpse of Obito's father. That was when he was introduced to death, which he was meant to dance with a lot before he gets even to being ten-years-old.

After his father has passed away, his mother disappeared, when he retrieves memories from that time, he sees his own grandma more clearly than his mom. But he knows his mom loved him despite him being different, she seemed to even appreciate it more. Maybe it was just his imagination.

But he felt the pain all the same when one day he was driven into the hospital to see his mother hooked to machines and tubes. He remembers that every day he visited it and told his mom stories, he doesn't remember if she was in a coma, or if she just couldn't move a limb, but he recognizes that few days, or maybe a day before he assigned himself to the Ninja Academy, she was unattached from the tubes and machines and thrown into a grave. He recalls his grandmother and him talking about his mother and his father, his grandmother never directly answered to which parent he resembles more, or what traits he got from them.

He remembers when he woke up in the night once and went to get a glass of water for his dry throat. While drinking the water, he felt something cold crawl up his spine as he put the glass back and looked over his shoulder. The window was open and cold air blew inside the room, but he could swear it was closed moments before. Rubbing his eyes he walked up to it with intention of closing it, when suddenly there's a push and he's driven up to a wall with a sharp blade pressing and cutting the skin on his throat. Terrified, he screams and then chokes on his own blood as the ninja presses more to shut him up.

A moonlight reflects on the headband and the sign of Village Hidden in the Rock flashes in front of Obito's eyes. Back then he was so scared he thought he'd never be able to move his limb again, but years in Academy gave something to him, even if he was the one worst at rules and theoretical stuff. He stood frozen for a moment or two before he grabbed the man's arm with all the strength a ten-year-old could possess he pushed it back from his throat and did whatever he could - he just bit as hard as he could in the attacker's forearm. He felt the blood in his mouth for the first time that day. The attacker's plan was apparently to kidnap Uchiha child for some ransom (it made Obito afraid back in the day, but now he made jokes about how nobody would waste a penny for him if he ever got kidnapped), he didn't expect that the child could fight back.

Even if Obito was a cowardly Uchiha - a scream in the middle of the night, startled the Uchiha Officer that was patrolling the street. Coming through the same window as the attacker, he found Obito fighting desperately for life. There are unacceptable things even in the world of the damned Shinobi. Children aren't children for long, so seeing one being cornered by an adult triggered the officer's Sharingan without any effort.

It shocked the little boy Obito once was when an angry man suddenly turned still and looked down at the blade piercing through him. The man fell to the floor and his blood made it color red. The shocked ravenette suddenly felt the reality hit him, there was blood throughout his whole life everywhere. Even now, he was tasting it. He ignored the calls from his fellow clansman as he couldn't keep his eyes off the corpse.

That was when the reality of the world struck Obito Uchiha, who suffered so much loss but with no effect on activating Sharingan, so he was declared as a lost-cause and stripped from his last name as even his grandma's death two years after that didn't traumatize him enough to activate eyes of sorrow, hatred, and anger. People called him too naive and too innocent.

Obito became during the Chunin exams a murderer when a first person ever fell dead at his hand. For the next two years, he became an active murderer as he took part in the war. He wasn't sent to the frontlines until that one mission known as "Battle at the Kannabi Bridge". Kannabi Bridge today was nowhere to be found as it was blown up because of sabotage that two Chunins and a Jonin were able to commit. On their way, they lost one member of the team, but the mission was successful nevertheless.

By the age of fourteen Obito was freed from his awful nightmares. In his nightmares appeared people who always threw up with their blood at Obito's feet as they crippled and fell onto their knees.

Landing in Madara's cave after losing half of his body was something he'd never expect, but wasn't too much surprised. Rehabilitation of his body was more painful, but at least he didn't bleed. Over the years he learned to not vomit when he sees blood, but he can't help the freeze. He can't but cry when he sees blood because of the memories and made-up sick fantasizes his brain showed him.

It takes much shorter than everybody would think - especially Madara - for him to recover and gain the control over Hashirama cells in his body. He used his newly gotten Mokuton to make himself exit and wants to leave, but is stopped. Madara tells him about what the world can become, about the mighty Eternal Tsukuyomi - it even sounds tempting to stay, but Obito already promised someone to come home - even if he won't come without a scratch, he needs to at least tell Kushina he tried.

Zetsu informs him where to go to rejoice with team Minato, but doesn't think about informing the boy that they're in a really bad position and about to lose their lives. When Uchiha arrived at the scene he could see Minato, Rin and Kakashi fight for their lives, but then he noticed the numbers of the enemy.

They didn't stand a chance and Obito won't really help them much even with his Sharingan which he finally dared to bare itself and uncontrollable Mokuton... aside from that... He really can't imagine killing these much people- it is until Rin falls to the ground as an effect of Kakashi's first miscalculation Obito ever seen, or maybe Rin intented this to happen? All He sees is that Minato-sensei is worn out and looks even more worn out when he sees his two students fall. Obito never has seen Minato so broken, he never seen Kakashi so tired and he never even dared to think that Rin would ever get hurt.

His mind went blank with a searing, held back for years hatred, anger, sadness and mostly fear.

When he regains conciousness, he's all covered in blood. There's nusea in his stomach when he sees the dismembered corpses all around him. He drops to the knees but instantly gets up as he discovers that he had fallen on a body whoose head was disattached and casted away.

With disbelief he looked around as if he had woken up from a deep slumber. His eyes landed on his hands, they were shaking so bad, then he had started talking to himself, reassuring that everything is okay, and this is just a bad dream.

Whispering pathetically under his breath, he wandered away from the field of blood and corpses mangled into weird vines of plants, they looked like trees, but they weren't quite it... He had tried to put off his mind from the blood and the fact he's from head to toe covered in it. He also tried not to vomit.

It was so awful...

His chest felt heavy as his breaths grew into pants. The sound of tearing flesh and screams ran across his mind setting it into disarray.

But that history has a good ending, while Obito went on a bloody rampage, Minato took Rin and Kakashi to safety and then came back to look for Obito. He found the Uchiha boy vomitting - seems like he gave up to the sick feeling of guilt eating at his stomach and disgust at the sight of blood - helped him up and took him home.

It's been already ten years, and Obito can't believe it.

Throughout those ten years he hadn't lost anybody - that doesn't mean he wasn't close, but everybody he cared for were still alive and doing good. Obito looked at his little cute students and smiled to himself proudly. Kakashi might have his bratty little nephew - Sasuke, smart, cunning and with a photographic memory - Sakura, plus Naruto Uzumaki - Kushina's and Minato's son - as his students, but Obito has his own bunch (and they're not related to him in any way like his previous students) of brats and currently watched them rest from the training.

Obito closed his eyes and let his mind wander off, he hadn’t expect to fall asleep.

When he wakes up he’s screaming and there’s liquid coming from his nose, his whole body is shivering and sweating. The students trio - Sho, Setsuko and Michiko - jump away from him, seems like they tried to wake him up... Instantly he brought a hand up to his nose and discovered blood. Uchiha Jonin freezed up realizing the smiling faces spitting blood, cutting their stomaches open and showing him their heart... he shakes his head and dismisses the brats, who watch him worriedly. Using Kamui to get home is easy, but stopping himself from imagining the people he loves dead at his hand is hard.

The look of betrayal on their faces felt so real... just as if he had followed the Madara’s wishes and fulfilled the wicked plan and on the way he led to Rin’s death, broke Kakashi, killed Minato and Kushina - orphaned Naruto, the ball of sunshine who’s too cute for his sake.

[raendown]

I'm 330 pages into a 1233 page book. Third in the series. It keeps focusing on my least favorite character. So I come up with ways for Tobi to impress Madara. Like, someone tries to assassinate Hashirama n Tobi just rips all the water from their body. Madara is instantly hooked. Izuna walks up n hugs Tobi like "I'm so glad we're friends now." And Hashirama is eyeing Madara cus he KNOWS. And best friend or not if he doesn't plan on marrying Tobi then he'd better not even think about it.

My hand slipped.

-

Being the fastest shinobi alive had its advantages. One of those advantages was being able to see and react to things much faster than others could, which had saved lives countless times during battle. It saved another now as Tobirama saw the blade heading for his brother’s neck and before Hashirama could even turn to see his attacker Tobirama was between them, deflecting the projectile with his own armored form. 

Did they not understand who they were attacking? Surely only incredible stupidity would encourage someone to attack the three strongest shinobi of their generation. Perhaps it was just their leader who was stupid, dragging his comrades along with him on a suicide mission in the hopes of getting off at least one lucky shot. 

Well, Tobirama growled inside his own head, not today. Today he was in a bad mood and they had attacked the wrong man. That was his brother, his precious person, his to protect. And protect he would. 

It took less than a second to spread his senses after so many years of practice, feeling for the water in the area around him. He passed over the puddles left behind from his own jutsu and the river to the west which had provided the power for them. Instead he zeroed in on something he had never quite dared to try but was in just the right sort of mood to do so now. 

Screams rent the air as Tobirama twisted his hand in to a familiar seal, so ragged and desperate that it stopped nearly all of the fighting around them. That could only mean that it was working. Without so much as a change in expression he switched to another seal, causing the screams to increase in volume until the enemy was squealing like a stuck pig and convulsing on the spot. The next moment it was as though his skin had torn open in multiple places, unable to contain the blood within his own body as it answered the call of another. 

Expressions of horror followed the streams of blood as they wound through the air to gather in a rippling ball above Tobirama’s hand, where usually he held water. And he was, technically. He was holding the water which composed the man’s blood and all the remnants which had resided in his tissue. 

Now a desiccated, dried up corpse, what had once been the man who attacked Hashirama fell to one side with a muted thump. For a few moments the battlefield was utterly still, each man and woman present trying in their own way to process what they had just witnessed. Had he really just had all the water in his body torn out with nothing more than a couple of hand seals? Was Senju Tobirama truly standing there as calmly as if he had merely run the man through, still holding the blood hovering over his hand in a sphere of chakra?

The screaming began anew first with a young boy who filled the air with the acrid scent of urine when he pissed his pants. His screaming set off that of the middle-aged woman next to him, who grabbed his hand and fled as fast as her feet would carry her. 

Like an avalanche the enemy turned almost as one and ran away from the sight of Tobirama’s cold expressionless face. Not a single one of them wanted to be the next to have their blood ripped straight out of the bodies. This entire attack had been folly from the start and, though each of them were prepared to die in battle, none were brave enough to face that particular death. 

Tobirama watched them go with disdain. Cowards, the lot of them. With a dismissive gesture he tossed the ball of chakra far enough away from himself that when it hit the ground the splatter of blood did not touch him. He turned to ask if his brother was okay only for Izuna to stride up to him and place both hands on his shoulders, deactivated eyes meeting his in a serious manner. 

“That was terrifying,” the Uchiha informed him. “I’m so glad we’re friends now.” 

“I’ve always wanted to try that,” Tobirama noted offhandedly as he shrugged off the other man’s touch. Izuna nodded with perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm. 

“Probably the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said. Tobirama scoffed and turned away, but it did nothing to hide the smirk on his face. 

As his younger brother lavished praises on the pale man, Madara stood to one side and stared openly. That sort of attack was the kind of thing he would never in his wildest dreams be able to come up with himself but he knew very well that Tobirama was the sort of man who was always pushing boundaries. He found himself reluctantly impressed - and even more reluctantly intrigued. Being attracted to Tobirama would be an absolute disaster of course. It was absolutely ridiculous that that idiot’s cold face was suddenly all he could think.  

The Uchiha, as a whole, tended to suffer from the affliction of being attracted to powerful people. Madara had considered himself lucky to escape that curse in his friendship with Hashirama and he had long ago made his peace with the fact that he himself was perhaps a bit too strong, that he might never find someone strong enough to pique his interest. Suddenly it looked like he had been looking in all the wrong places. Tobirama was a battlefield terror and he had always known that; why was it only now that his hormones decided to pay attention? 

On the opposite side of the field, Hashirama watched all of the interactions unfolding before him and crossed his arms with a petulant frown. Izuna, he thought, was a bit presumptuous to be stealing Tobirama’s attention all for himself when it was Hashirama who’s life had been saved and should have been afforded a moment to say thank you. Madara, he thought, was even more presumptuous to be looking at his baby brother with that light in his eye. 

Best friends they might be but Hashirama knew Madara and he knew the other man wasn’t typically the commitment type. In all the years they’d known each other he’d never seen any of the man’s relationships last longer than a few weeks. If he was considering even so much as touching a hair on Tobirama’s precious head he’d better be thinking of committing to that hair as well as the man beneath it. 

If not, Hashirama would have to have words with Madara. 

[uzumakinoshinju]

Before sealing the fox into herself, Mito was viewed with great respect and admiration. This led to people treating her like a queen, valuing her opinions when Hashirama wasn't around to give his. She was the God of Shinobi's wife and, as such, she was held in very high regard within the newly formed Konohagakure. Her say held as much weight as Hashirama and Madara's did so she was often looked to as a council on matters to do with Konoha. She was an outsider but she was a respected outsider.

Once Madara attacked the village with Kurama, their opinions began changing. Hashirama requested she seal away the fox as he was too dangerous. She asked him where he wanted her to seal the fox into and he gave no certain answer, telling her that it didn't matter so long as he was away from the village. Mito chose to seal the fox within herself, a move that she knew would one day kill her, as a way of holding onto the power for Konoha in the future. The sealing alone caused her to fall into a week-long coma in which time she fought with the fox many times to prevent him from escaping. She eventually fashioned a makeshift cage for him that held him in place with her Adamantine Sealing Chains. This meant that for the rest of her life, she would have a constant drain on her chakra as she kept the fox subdued.

The citizens of Konoha did not initially know of her status as a jinchuriki, due to her being in recovery and Hashirama wanting to ensure that she wouldn't lose control of Kurama, but eventually, they did find out. They found out after Hashirama and Mito collected the other Bijuu intending to sell them to other major villages to keep the peace. Mito had to reveal her status as a jinchuriki to the other Kage when they asked where the fox was then word travelled quickly and got twisted to paint Mito in a bad light.

Rumours spread that the only reason she sealed the fox inside herself was to one day destroy Konoha with it or that she only did so to become more powerful than even Hashirama. Neither rumour was true, of course, but that didn't stop the citizens of Konoha from treating her almost opposite to how they used to. Every time she went out, she'd have to watch as people that once loved her now stayed as far from her as possible while glaring at her as if she was the demon fox herself.

While Hashirama, and even Tobirama, were alive and in power- Mito was treated with begrudging respect by everyone. Once Hiruzen came into power, Mito suddenly started getting attacked for no reason by people so she stayed inside her home instead of going out. If she needed to leave for any reason, she had to be sure that she took the least populous route to her destination. The council began to not listen to her advice while also managing to cram a wedge between Mito and Tsunade.

Still, she held herself with grace and went about as if nothing had changed. Even if she was occasionally pelted with rocks or had vile words slung at her. Mito also continued to fight for Konoha in the wars, winning whole battles alone without any help from the fox. Some people still did respect her and they stuck up for her when no one else would, those people were silenced very quickly. Mito is not remembered fondly by many after she passes away, only the jinchuriki who value the lessons she passed on as the first, care to remember her with kind words. She did start a trend but she also sought to abolish it after she found out what other villages were doing to be like them. Mito left behind any information she could, handing it down to her successor as well as the people around Kushina who become jinchuriki also.

She was not buried with respect or with her family. Mito was discarded like a lump of meat, buried in an unmarked grave outside of Konoha's walls. This was the choice of the council, to have her buried this way. They stated it was to protect her body from being dug up and experimented on but some knew that they saw her as an abomination who they wanted gone as soon as possible. It was only Kushina's influence that stopped them from outright just leaving her corpse to rot in the woods. They would have stooped to that if it meant ridding the world of the legacy of Uzumaki Mito.

[kusunogatari-a]

[ Compromise ] [ @masterofwar​ ] [ Uchiha Madara, Uchiha Izuna, Suigin Ryū, Suigin, Fubuki ] [ Death mention, blood mention ] [ Verse: At The Beginning ]

It's the sounds of battle that draw her.

The peal of steel upon steel is nothing new – it plagues the land like cicada calls. And like a vulture, she circles the dead and dying, looking not to feed...but to save.

By the time she finds its source, the fighting has faded to silence. Corpses litter an open field, weapons buried in the earth like gravestones. One side has already retreated...but a few of the other remain.

Desperate cries draw her silver gaze, and on geta she closes the distance. A man clad in crimson armor, sporting a dark lion's mane, cradles a comrade in his arms, begging for his life. So involved are his pleas, he takes no notice of her until she makes her demand.

“Lie him down.”

A bell-like toll echoes across the landscape as his kama strikes her shield. She offers no flinch, simply staring with serpent's eyes.

“Lie him down – let me see his wounds. I've not much time.”

Eyes of insidious carmine stare at her, nearly deranged with grief and desperation. But somehow he acquiesces.

She wastes no time, scoring through his breastplate with raw chakra and flaying it open to reveal the wound. Deep, and already soaked with blood.

He won't make it.

And yet she goes on, snow-white chakra tending the marred flesh as the man gasps for breath. And even as he stills, she does not waver.

“...stop...”

She ignores him.

“Stop...he's gone...!”

“For the moment.”

Her clipped reply seems to stopper the man left living, hesitating as she continues her work. Blood vessels close, blood loss sluggish with no heartbeat to urge it. Muscles weave back into place, nerves blooming through regenerated flesh like vines. Only once the bulk of the wound is reversed – enough to theoretically render it no longer fatal – does she adjust her stance.

“What is his name?”

“What?”

“His name.”

“...Uchiha Izuna.”

From her knees she settles to her backside, legs crossed and eyes closed. A flare of chakra along her palms coats both with blood. Several signs flicker across her fingers before her head goes slack upon her shoulders.

The man simply stares.

Several long minutes of silence pass before she stirs. Eyelids twitch, opening to show rounded pupils. Hands still held in the serpent sign, she looks to them before cupping them open.

Within is an orb of soft blue light, pulsating like a heartbeat.

The sight makes the hairs on the back of the man's neck stand on end. Whatever it is...he feels sinful to look upon it.

Shifting back to her knees, the healer sets the light upon the dead man's chest, watching it sink through his skin. Bloodied palm pressed to his sternum, she gives a pulse of chakra that sends cloth and hair aflutter.

With a gasp, as though ascendant through water, Izuna takes a breath, eyes flying open as he reflexively coils up and coughs.

The woman withdraws her hand, watching in exhausted silence.

“I...Izu...na?” Shaking fingers dare to cup his comrade's face. “...what...how...?”

“...I don't know? I...I remember Tobirama, the wound, the pain...and then I was awake. Did...did I...?”

Beside the brothers, their companion silently rises to her feet, turning back the way she'd come.

“Stop!”

She obeys.

“...who are you...? What did you do?!”

Waves of white shift as she looks over her shoulder. “...Suigin Ryū. As for my actions...I did as my bloodline dictates: I healed.”

“How...?”

She ignores him, turning back. “...I cannot linger. There are others who need my help. He will need rest to finish the wound's surface, but with care it will no longer prove fatal.”

Part of him longs to stand and chase, to demand her answers, but Izuna's weak grip on his arm stays him. He cannot leave his brother now.

“Madara...who...?”

The clan head can only give a slow shake of his head. “...I can't pretend to know.”

-

The Uchiha retreat to their camp, demands made to hear their story. But Madara silences them, obviously welled deep in thought. Izuna is kept by his side, disappearing into the central tent.

Letting his brother sit, Madara takes to pacing, an arm over his chest that supports an elbow. A thoughtful hand strokes absentmindedly across his chin.

“...you're sure? She just...revived me? Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“...you're sure I was dead?”

“Your heart had stopped. And yet...she kept going. Kept healing. And then went into some kind of...trance. When she woke, she had your...” Madara gestures, not daring to say the word aloud. “...there was no mistaking it. It wasn't until she replaced it and restarted your heart that you breathed again. Your heart beat again.”

Staring, Izuna eventually drops his gaze, disbelieving. “...why...?”

“I can't know. She simply...appeared. Like some kami drawn to the bodies. Every inch of her was white as a specter.” A hand pinches Madara's brow as he slows to a stop. “...I almost can't dare believe she was real. And yet...”

Silence falls over the pair, Madara resuming his pacing.

“...if she was real – and I'm fairly certain there's little doubt – that ability is priceless. Likely costly, but...unparalleled.” Again he stills, gripping his face with a gloved hand. Eyes bloom red, alight with determination.

“...I must have it.”

“How will you...?”

“I will send out scouts. Find her. Bring her back here, and ensure she stays. I can't let this advantage slip through my fingers. An ultimate trump card...” Beneath his palm, a wicked grin pulls back from his teeth. “Hashirama could cut me down...and I would simply rise again. Imagine the fear he would feel...wondering if I'd truly conquered death. Become the god so many claim me to be...!”

“You would keep her a prisoner?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Onīsama...” Izuna hesitates. “...you still fight for that dream of peace, don't you? Killing our enemies is one thing...but holding an innocent woman against her will? Imprisoning her?”

“...you have a better idea? One rarely gives up their freedom willingly.”

Going quiet for a moment, it's then the younger brother gives a soft snort. “...a pity you've become clan head.”

“Why?”

Izuna manages a dry smile. “I can think of one way to tie a woman down.”

Reflexively, Madara scoffs. “Marry a woman outside the clan? Imagine the outrage...”

“Would it truly be a disadvantage to marry a medic that powerful...? Our clan has little to no focus on the medical arts. Just having her around, even as a simple healer, would be a boon for everyone.” Izuna's tone turns teasing. “Imagine, a doting little wife to tend your battle wounds. Something soft to come back to at the end of the day? Madara...she already saved me once – would you truly be so against to having someone with such talents close? Have her trust you rather than resent you?”

“Hn...”

“And what better kind of woman to bear children than a healer? There are pure-blood Uchiha who never awaken their dōjutsu – surely you'd get around to having an heir if you try long enough.”

“You're carrying this rather far, Izuna,” the elder brother counters dryly, looking hardly amused. “Why not do so yourself?”

“I'm not the one who insists he have her. With a jutsu like that, surely she's from a clan. Call it...a political move. Attaining a useful asset – it's far from an uncommon practice. Show the clan your logic, and I'm sure few would doubt you.”

Madara remains silent for a moment. It's not a yes...but nor is it a no. “...I know too little to make such a move. First, I must find her. Bring her here.”

Izuna hesitates. “...do you really think this can bring an end to the fighting...?”

“...it may. Perhaps it will finally give me the edge I need to silence Hashirama and bring an end to this...rivalry. But for now...” Madara withdraws from the tent, flaring back the canvas and barking orders. “Find me a woman of snow-white hair and silver eyes – Suigin Ryū. Do not rest until you kneel her at my feet!”

From there, it's an agonizing waiting game. After the battle, the Senju have vanished, licking their own wounds as the Uchiha do the same. The stillness is maddening, Madara taking to pacing and venting his fury through flames. Izuna follows, doing his best to rein him in.

“They'll find her.”

After more than a week of irritation, a company returns, a woman in tow.

Her eyes are guarded, unrestrained amidst the warriors. It's not until she's brought before the clan head that understanding – recognition – alights her gaze. Greys flicker to his brother, then back again.

Madara stares. She's real. It wasn't just some illusion – some panic-induced dream.

The ghost she looks to be.

After a deafening silence, she asks, “...what do you want?”

“Your power.”

Brows lower slightly over silvers. “...you have another in need...?”

“Not yet. But I expect to.”

Another careful pause. “...I do not idle in wait of what may happen. I seek out what has already come to pass. Should I remain too long, lives I could have saved will slip through my fingers.”

Madara considers her for a moment. Glancing to the crowds of his kinsmen, he gives a sharp tilt of his head. “We will discuss this matter privately.”

Already wary, Ryū follows behind, Uchiha parting to let the trio through.

With the canvas closed, Madara leans against a temporary table sporting a map of the region, littered with figures and battle strategies. Arms fold across the expanse of his chest. Izuna settles in a corner.

“...what precisely are you proposing?” the medic asks, leaving no room for idle chatter.

The clan head's lips twitch. He can appreciate expediency. “First...there are a few things I need to know. Who are you, exactly...? What was that jutsu? A kekkei genkai?”

“...you ask me many personal questions, stranger. Forgive me for not being forthcoming upon so little familiarity.”

“...Uchiha Madara. Current clan head. Something tells me you know our banner.”

“Yours, and every other that marches so wantonly across the land.”

“What of you own?”

“...my clan wages no wars. We simply clean up after them. We live in seclusion, and we keep to our peace...and attempt to spread it, to little avail.”

“Then you and I seek a similar goal. I too fight for peace.”

“You fight. I heal.”

“...so I noticed.” Madara gives a gesture of both arms. “...I wish to know more about the woman who saved my brother's life. Who held his soul in her hands. Is that so much to ask...?”

“You would not drag me here for such idle pleasantries.” Silvers sharpen. “...I would ask you to speak plainly.”

“And I will do so once I know more of you, and your clan. In short, it's...necessary information, regarding my request.”

“And would you give up your lineage's secrets so easily...?”

A slight impasse. “...you in turn may make your inquiries. If that would appease you.”

Ryū offers a curt sigh, hands hidden in the sleeves of her top. “...my clan is small. In fact...I am the last. We are a line of healers – taking vows of pacifism, and in its place, seeking to bring balance to the violence. Our arsenal consists only of healing ninjutsu, and barriers. We do have a kekkei genkai...” Releasing a hand from her sleeve, she gives another display of white chakra. “Iyashino shiroi te. White hands of healing. A buff to healing ninjutsu, greater efficiency, and dense chakra pools. As well as a natural inclination for nature chakra.”

Something sparks in the Uchiha's eyes. “...sage techniques...?” Hashirama makes use of such chakra.

“Yes. We study beneath a teacher in our home valley, to the north, in the Kusunoki Sanmyaku. Once training is considered complete...we look for those who need us. Hence my stumbling upon you and your brother.” A pause. “...a journey you are waylaying with all of this talking.”

“Do you never return home? Never settle down?”

“...in time.”

Madara tilts his head. “...where is this...valley?”

“Well-hidden. And, with all due respect...none of your concern.”

Dark brows raise in a hint of surprise at her gall. “...and if I were to make it my concern...?”

“I fail to see how you would do so. At least...in no way without my interference.”

“You wouldn't be interfering, per se...” The clan head heaves a heavy sigh, trying to gather his thoughts to offer a compelling argument. “...when I was young, I dreamed of uniting the warring clans. As did a dear friend...the Senju clan head. We were raised on the belief that the clan comes first. That peace is not possible until one rises to conquer all. Only through a steady hand can the rest come to yield. I aim to be that hand.”

“...I fail to see my involvement.”

“Do you? It would do well for someone of my position to have a healer nearby. The Uchiha do not have such a focus in medical ninjutsu. If I were to have someone of your skills, it would aid my path to bringing these wars to an end.”

Ryū's brow furrows. “...you seem quite certain it is you who is destined to do this. Who are you to decide the world's fate?”

“Who are you to deny it?”

“I make no claim over fate. I simply do what I am able, as one woman. My stirrings of destiny are wrought one man at a time. I could not be so bold as to make claim beyond that...let alone the world at large.”

“Some accept their fates...some make them. I intend to forge my own, and with it, bring this world guidance.” Caught up in his planning, Madara steps forward, determination in his gaze. “...would you truly retreat from having a hand in the makings of peace?”

“I cannot see a path to it so drenched in blood. My people know peace, and there has been no fighting – why can yours not do the same?”

“I can't pretend to know the cause of the human condition...only its cure.” The gap between them closes.

“And here I thought you made no claim to the medical,” Ryū counters, looking up to him calmly. “What would one so wrought in violence know of cures...?”

“Perhaps you could teach me,” Madara retorts.

“I am not sure you are the sort to be taught what I know.”

“Indulge me.” A hand raises as though to cup her jaw, but ghosts just beyond her skin. “...let me make my proposition clear. I want you to join me. Be the hands at my back that keep me from faltering. Help me accomplish my goals...and yours will be all the easier to reach. Think of how little death, pain, suffering there will be once order is instilled within the chaos. You could rest easy.”

“...you expect me to simply give up my own path to follow yours...?”

The Uchiha's jaw tenses for a moment. He'd been right – she would not follow through words alone. “...you told me you are the last of your line. Would it truly do you so ill to assimilate into another?”

A draw of the woman's brow confesses her confusion. “...what do you...?”

“You could use allies. If you were to assent, I would ensure your protection – your well-being. I can tell you without hesitation there are few places safer than what you would find at my side. You would want for little. And you'd have plenty of opportunities to use your skills. Lives would still be yours for the saving.”

“I am meant to show no bias, I -”

“What would you lack here? And what would you gain...?”

“...I...”

He can sense her resolve weakening – but whether it's his words, or his proximity...Madara can't quite be sure. “...if you help me...I would in turn give you whatever you need. There is little I cannot provide.” Testing her boundaries, he dares to finally lay his palm against her skin. “...let us forge an alliance. Pledge yourself, and your strength, to me...and I in turn will do the same.”

She tenses. “...you mean...?”

“I will make you an Uchiha in all but blood. And you will help me bring forth an era of peace, at last. I'm sure, with you at my side...any goal will be within reach.”

Keep me alive...and nothing will stand in my way.

Form rigid and uncertain, Ryū finally drops her gaze, expression torn. Madara retreats a step, withdrawing his hand and letting her think.

“...this is...highly unorthodox for my people...” Greys look back to him. “...and what would become of them? My people?”

“You say you are the last...?”

“I still lay claim to my home...to the village there.”

Madara pauses, brow drawing at a thought. “...you say it's well-hidden...?”

“Exceptionally.”

Another hesitation. ...that may just be where I could tuck our clan away...attain an element of surprise. Hashirama wouldn't know where to look... “...perhaps...you could show me?”

“We rarely allow outsiders.” Ryū's chin lifts ever so slightly. “...as I said, it's a peaceful place. I don't wish to let that change.”

“You'd have my word nothing would. I simply wish to see where you come from. What you know.”

It's then she surprises him. “...no plans to conquer it...?”

Madara manages a sly smile. “...as they say, what's yours would be mine.”

“Precisely what I fear.” It's then she who steps forward. “...I have no reason to trust you. Those people, that village, have been in my family's keeping since its founding. They look to my clan for leadership and guidance...protection. I cannot, will not allow them harm.”

“I have no intention to harm anyone who does not stand in my way.”

Ryū gives a curt sigh. “...you are truly insistent on this? All of this...?”

“Unwaveringly. I will not let a chance at peace pass me by. And you can help me make that happen.”

“...it's really what you want?”

“More than anything. I have lost nearly everything to the violence of this world.” Ever so slightly, Madara softens. “...I almost lost the last piece I had. It was you that stopped it.”

Behind them, still silent, Izuna balks.

“...I already owe you a debt that cannot be measured. I realize that. But I am so certain of what could be achieved...of what your talents could do...!” It's as close to begging as Uchiha Madara will ever get. “...I am asking you for your help. I would give you the place at my right hand. Give you anything befitting the wife of a clan head. Protect your people, preserve your line...anything you want. So long as, together, we bring about a future that would let us, and any who come after us...see it.”

Silence.

Her guarded expression softened, Ryū considers him for a long moment. “...it's over a day's walk from here.” Her eyes flicker to Izuna. “...the two of you may come. As for the rest...I must think.”

“...acceptable. We can leave now.” There's an eagerness to Madara's form that he doesn't wish to let idle. Fetching his gear, he gives Izuna a nod. “Tell third rank they'll have the helm for a few days. Let loose nothing else. Not until we're certain.”

“...of course.”

The brothers' departure doesn't go unnoticed, and whispers follow as they leave the camp behind. Madara largely ignores them. Like any game, sacrifices and compromises must be made to reach the goal. It may yet bring trouble...but he's certain, in the end, it will prove to be a wise choice.

Ryū seems largely at ease upon the road. Before he can stop it, Madara inquires, “How long have you been doing this?”

“Since I was seventeen.”

“All by yourself?”

Unbidden, her lips twitch. “I'm not defenseless. Any who attempt to waylay me often find themselves no longer able to follow. At least, for a few hours...until the numbness wears off. By then I'm long gone.”

“You can fight?”

“...I can defend. Wait for an opening, and disable. I do not kill.”

A quiet scoff escapes him.

“Not all of us find the end of a battle with bloodshed. And not every man wielding a weapon must die. Or, if they must...it's not my place to play executioner. It's to heal when necessary.”

“And when that man you heal goes on to kill, is that not aiding and abetting?”

“I cannot dictate what path a life takes...” She glances to him, expression mild. “...besides, if I were to avoid healing men who kill...you would have lost your brother.”

“And you would have very little to do with yourself.”

Before she can stop them, Ryū's lips twitch. “...indeed.”

From there, the path winds mostly in silence. The humid air leaves none of them eager to speak, making a camp near the foothills of the mountains. As the daylight fades, Madara muses at the mist shrouded the peaks.

“It's easy to get lost. Just stick close – I know the way well.” After a pause, she adds, “I'll take watch.”

“...the entire night?”

A nod.

“Rather unwise, is it not?”

“I will meditate rather than sleep. It's restful, and I'll sense anyone who approaches long before they know we're here.”

The Uchiha perks a skeptical brow. “...if you insist.”

Even so, neither brother rests fully, too on-guard this far from home. Ashes are scattered before they begin to crest the range.

Roots, loose stones, and heavy branches make the trek arduous, but the trio manage to delve deep into the peaks. By noon, they crest the lip of the valley.

“...this...is Kusunokizan.”

Much of the vale lies untouched, only a handful of houses toward its southern tip. Fog drapes across its spine, along a winding river that catches the noon sunlight. Across from them, on the other wall, sits a looming camphor tree of gargantuan size. Beneath it, a cave spans into darkness.

“This is your home...?”

Ryū dips her head. “It has housed my line since its founding.” She gazes down upon it fondly, like a mother to her child. “...it's been years since I've seen it. And even then...I never planned to return so early. But...” In an instant, her expression shifts to a blank slate. “...we've matters to discuss.”

Sensing her change in mood, Madara wisely keeps silent, giving Izuna a glance and a nod.

The journey down is just as difficult, but the three soon find themselves passing beneath a torī gate. As they do, both brothers freeze.

“It's just so she knows you're here,” Ryū offers, not even turning around. “Any and all who enter or leave...she knows. And I'm sure she'll be eager to meet you.”

The Uchiha exchange a glance before continuing.

The road is more akin to a path, winding along the river and occasionally crossing over wooden bridges. In the distance, waterwheels creak within the bank. Houses of camphor wood stand tall amidst the trees, built in traditional architecture and blending into the terrain. Cattle low, the soft murmurs of chickens and the calls of sheep cutting through the air. In the distance, at the valley's tail, men and women tend to rice paddies. Insects buzz amid vegetable patches and fruit trees, the smell of warm, wet wood and flowers overtaking the air.

“Everything this valley needs, it supplies itself. We may be completely cut from the world...but we require nothing from it. It is this isolation that has allowed us peace for so long. War does not touch here.” Giving a glance over her shoulder, Ryū looks to Madara coolly. “...hence my apprehension.”

Between the two, Izuna looks over their surroundings in open awe, Madara doing so far more stone-faced. While his brother simply takes in the sights, Madara attempts to make calculations. ...there's more than enough space. Supplies may be low...but surely that can be tended to once there are more to offer...

Once in the village proper, people quickly flood around the woman, clamoring all at once. “Ryū-sama, you're back! Why so soon? Is everything all right? Who are these strangers?”

She gives them a placating smile, raising her hands. “Please, settle down. I'll attend to your questions, but first...these men and I have matters to discuss. You have nothing to fear from them.” As she speaks, Ryū gives the brothers a pointed look.

The crowd then parts, allowing them through, though not without whispers and stares. At the vale's end, Ryū leads the pair to the largest home – clearly a manor for the clan. Passing through the entryway, Ryū removes her geta and steps inside.

“...I will make tea.”

With that, she leaves the brothers to their devices.

Once alone, Izuna glances to his brother. “...now what?”

In a low murmur, the elder replies, “...I think we've found a new base of operations.”

“What?!”

Madara shoots him a look, silencing him. “...the Senju would never find us here. We could simply disappear whenever necessary. A fortress they would never find...let alone breach.”

Izuna's brow furrows. “...would it not make heading out to battle tedious...? And surely moving our entire company here would hardly go unnoticed.”

“Shinobi can move undetected when necessary. And moving out from any place is tedious – we can adapt. The advantages far outweigh the drawbacks.”

“And you really think she'll just...acquiesce?”

“One step at a time, my brother. First I establish my hold up on her. The rest, then, will fall into place.”

Izuna does not look so certain.

“Besides...she's most concerned about the village being harmed. There would be no harm. If anything, it will be far safer. I know you noticed there wasn't a single shinobi-worthy chakra signature here. They're defenseless, save for one woman...and you and I both know, she's far from powerful.”

“There'd be no need to protect them if we weren't here to possibly draw attention to them.”

“No place can be hidden forever. When trouble comes...we will be here to meet it.”

The younger sighs, seeing there's no changing his brother's mind.

It's then Ryū chooses to return, laying out tea upon the table. “Now, what -?”

Before she can finish her sentence, a form swoops through a nearby window, alighting upon her forearm with a screech. “Ryū-sama!”

To both brothers' surprise, Ryū gives a hearty laugh. “Notice I was here already, did you?” She meets the affections of a snow-white owl with a hand, her own expression warming. “We'll catch up later. If you'd notice, we have guests.”

Golden spheres turn to take in the strangers, head circling curiously with a clack of her beak.

Guiding the avian to her own cushion, Ryū only offers, “Fubuki, my summon.” With that out of the way, she sobers once more. “...so. I take it nothing of your mind has changed...?”

“No.”

“...you still wish to form this...alliance.” Ryū's arm gestures. “...I have no money. No other clan members. Only a home that has collected dust for years.”

“None of this is why I sought you. I believed I'd made that clear.”

“And so am I making it clear that you seem to be underselling yourself. This is a position only filled once, if you're lucky.”

Madara gives a humorless smile. “...I will not change my mind. No matter what other faults you come up with.”

“...and this place...? Is it as useful as you had hoped...?”

...she's sharper than I give her credit for. “...I suppose that depends upon your meaning.”

“You don't have to play coy with me, Uchiha-sama. I read people rather well.”

“...then I suppose there's no need for secrets. Yes, this valley would make for an unparalleled hiding place.”

“I do not want an entire clan of shinobi in my valley. This is no place for people who indulge in violence!”

“There would be no violence here.”

“Until your enemies follow!”

“Soon we will have no enemies.”

“I cannot take that chance!” A hand slices decisively through the air, silvers staring intensely. “...I will not let this place of peace be brought to risk. The torī gate you passed beneath represents a door between the wars beyond our borders, and this village – a door that is closed. I cannot let violence overtake my home. I will not put these people in danger.”

“The only thing putting them in danger is your obstinance,” Madara replies coolly.

“...are you threatening me?”

“I told you...nothing will stand between me, and my goal.”

“Both of you, please,” Izuna intervenes, drawing both of their gazes. “...an alliance should not be born out of intimidation!”

“Tell that to your brother,” Ryū hisses.

“Suigin-sama, I can tell you with utmost certainty, onīsama has no intention of letting your people come to harm. That would go against what we Uchiha are fighting for!” Izuna gives his brother a warning glance. “...we are striving for peace. It is us coming to you for your help. We would not do so in any way to place you under duress. Part of our plea is to help keep our people safe. Onīsama is right...having a place so well-hidden to operate from would give us an edge. And we would do all we can to make sure our presence here in no way brings your people harm. Any that would, we would take full responsibility for. If you were to ally yourself with us...your people become our people. And we would defend them just as ardently as our blood kin. I assure you.”

Still holding an edge, Ryū seems to calm slightly. “...it would almost seem wiser for you to join us. To simply remain. That way, at least, there would be less risk of you being tailed...”

“I know you value the peace you have here...but you said it yourself: you try to bring that peace to the rest of the world through your work. If the Uchiha abandon the fight, there may never be peace.”

Ryū considers that. “...would it not simply fall to the Senju...? I know well enough it is their clan and yours that are at a standstill as, arguably, the most powerful. Remove one from the equation...it simply follows that the other would become the guiding hand.”

“I cannot allow that,” Madara retorts.

“Why? Is it out of true concern? Or pride?”

The man's eyes narrow.

“You claim to want peace. But it is this tug-of-war between you and Hashirama that maintains the status quo – that begets more death, more tension. Would one concede to the other, it would bring peace about all the faster.”

“You clearly don't understand.”

“No! I don't!” Ryū looks to him with a furrowed brow. “Both you and the Senju leader wish for peace, and unity. What if it is not your destiny, but his?”

“He is too soft. Such leadership would quickly crumble.”

“Have you not considered that soft may yet be needed? After countless years of war...perhaps soft is answer.”

“Will you agree to the terms, or not?” Clearly irritated, Madara changes the subject.

Ryū's mouth settles into a grim line, seeing he's not to be persuaded. “...on one condition.”

“Name it.”

“I wish for a trial by combat. Best me...you will receive that which you ask for. If you lose...you leave. And you never return.”

Silence save for a screech, the summon retreating through a window.

Madara's brow sharply furrows, opening his mouth to retort, only to pause. “...very well.”

As Ryū stands to take her leave, Izuna gawks. “...she can't be serious!”

“This isn't about winning.”

Looking to his brother as he stands, the younger frowns. “...what do you mean?”

“She knows she cannot beat me. This is about proving her sincerity – showing me to what lengths she will go.”

Izuna alights with understanding.

“...I'll indulge her....hold back – let her show me what she can do.” In spite of himself, Madara allows an amused twist of his lips. “This should prove...interesting.”

The pair follow her outside, Ryū's sleeves already tied up by obliging hands. She stands with her back to them, lingering for a moment before turning.

Like their first meeting, her eyes are parted by reptilian pupils.

“...let's get this over with,” Madara mutters, removing his armor. He won't need it, and he'll have more flexibility to counter manually.

As the two face one another, however, a sound tumbles down the mountain like a rock slide. Ryū's gaze snaps upward, brow drawing.

“Now what...?”

Ryū gives no reply, but her expression seems to wilt with worry.

In a matter of moments, a plume of steam collapses upon them like an avalanche, obscuring one from the other. Raising his arms, Madara squints through the vapor to see a large, coiling shadow.

“What nonsense is this...?”

“Shishō, I can handle this!”

“Who are these men? What is their purpose?”

Finally, the mist clears, and neither brother can help a look of awe at the serpentine figure before them. It faces the healer, clearly disgruntled. Around them, the crowds only thicken at the sight of the sage.

“...they seek an alliance. I mean to wager it on a spar.”

“Foolish! You concede too much!”

“Perhaps...but it's still my decision to make.”

Nearby, Fubuki alights upon a branch, earning a dirty look from her summoner. “...traitor.”

“You are acting rashly, student of mine. This is not what I have taught you.”

“This is the path of compromise. I know what I'm doing.”

Another plume of steam blooms as the dragon exhales curtly, curling along either side of her pupil. “...we shall see.” Venomous silvers turn to the brothers. “...you would be wise to guard your actions, outsiders. I do not take kindly to strangers...”

Offering no reply, Madara simply waits as their makeshift arena clears, feeling the sage's eyes boring into his back. “...barring no more interruptions...shall we begin?”

“Ready when you are.”

Humored, the Uchiha bends his knees, gesturing her forward. “By all means...show me your intentions.”

With a flare, colorless chakra enshrouds Ryū's hands, forming ghost-like limbs. The energy alone ripples at the grass and the hems of her clothes, white locks fluttering askance.

“She was right about one thing,” Izuna offers, Sharingan glinting. “She's got chakra to spare.”

“It's the sage state...Hashirama does the same. It will run out, in time. A bluff, more than anything.”

Jolting into a sprint, Ryū crosses the distance between them, giving a cry as she leaps and directs a phantom limb. Deep gouges tear into the soil where Madara had stood, fleeing with a flicker. Gripping the ground, she uses the leverage to fling herself after him.

A geta impacts Madara's forearms, throwing her back several feet. Both chakra limbs reach, missing as he jumps upward. Bracing against a tree's bark, he manages to twist between them, approaching her directly.

It's her turn to block, chakra dissipating from its first form, only to reconvene in discs along her palms. Guiding his momentum downward, Ryū lets Madara land, barely able to raise them again to catch his fists in her palms.

A smirk lifts her lips.

Before he can frown, Madara feels chakra spark along his arms, every sensation to his shoulders suddenly lost. The limbs hang at his sides, twitching.

“...impressive. But I don't need them to fight.” Again he moves forward, launching kick after kick – each barely guided aside by Ryū and her barriers. Already, sweat lines her brow, breath ragged. Frustration seems to rile her, and she curls only to push forward. A plane of chakra shield pushes him back, keeping his feet despite his inhibited limbs.

They each take a moment, Madara hardly winded as Ryū pants.

“...do not fall to your temper,” the sage offers, eyeing her student. “There is too much to account for here.”

“...I know.” Even so, the clan head can see the fury of frustration in Ryū's stare.

...she has something else up her sleeve, then? Something she doesn't dare use... Glancing to the crowd of onlookers, Madara feels he knows why. Though his arms still tingle, a margin of feeling has returned – whether it was her weakness, or letting him off light, he can't know.

“...but I still stand to make a point...!” Charging forward, Ryū seeks to capture his hands again. This time, however, he counters it, taking her wrists and gripping the joints tightly. Silver meets obsidian, staring in their deadlock.

“...don't hold anything back. You've yet to truly impress me.”

“So long as you promise me something.”

“...perhaps.”

“...don't let me do anything stupid.”

Before he can ask her meaning, Madara feels a new wave of chakra, lion's mane thrown back as Ryū ups her intake. But that's not all that changes.

Narrowed pupils shrink to little more than slits, staring widely with some kind of abandon. Already grimacing, the healer's lip raises and twitches in a beastly snarl, canines glinting and growing. Hands strain against his grip, nails become akin to claws, twitching in search of a hold. And from her throat resonates a growl that begets unbidden goosebumps along his arms.

Slowly, steadily, she struggles forward through his grasp, ignoring the creak of her wrists as he tightens his fingers. Geta dig into the dirt at her force, giving every ounce to try and close the gap between them.

And to Madara's honest surprise...she makes slow but visible headway. Granted, he could offer more effort, and numbness still bites at his nerves...but he finds himself impressed that a little healer can muster the chakra to shake his hold.

“...consider me surprised.”

She doesn't appear to hear him, and he can tell whatever she'd doing, it's clearly a last resort at the cost of her conscious mind.

Before he can act, however, a paw reaches a claw and touches the juncture of Ryū's head and neck.

Like a string-cut puppet, she collapses into his arms, unconscious.

“Enough...a fair victory. She cannot best you,” the sage offers, draconian expression unreadable. “She will require rest. I request your patience, strangers.”

Without pause, Madara simply hefts her higher. Wary eyes watch as he takes her back inside, forgoing searching for a bed and simply laying her upon a settee.

“...I suppose that's it, then?” Izuna asks. “...what did you think?”

“She'll do,” the elder replies simply. “...though I believe we've made a rather...rough impression.”

“No kidding,” is the dry reply.

“The details will need time to fall into place. For now, I have what I've come for.”

“...I think I might keep an eye on things outside. I don't know if anyone's going to try and poke their nose in.” With that, Izuna moves to the entryway, leaning in the doorway to dissuade any onlookers.

Watching his brother move, Madara eventually turns his gaze back to Ryū. He should be seeing her in a new light...shouldn't he? If she stays true to her word – and he has little doubt in that, given her pride in her actions – then in all but ceremony, she's his...bride.

The word wrinkles his nose slightly. He had yet to plan for such a thing, but...Izuna was right. It may cost him more effort, but something tells him he'll get far more out of her this way than brute force.

Quiet breath whispers past her lips, still limp upon the cushions as she recovers. He will admit...she has guts. Perhaps more stubborn stupidity than bravery, but...that may be something they have in common. Or...so Izuna tells him. Madara's lips twitch. If she can ever bring herself to forgive him...they might just get along.

Even so...he can't help but realize how fragile she really is. She held her own for a few minutes...against about a quarter his effort. Perhaps a bit more, if he's feeling generous. He wants to assume her defenses are better than her combat, but...even then, compared to someone of his level, or Hashirama's, she wouldn't stand a chance.

Likely not a problem in Hashirama's case – he wouldn't harm a medic. But Tobirama...

Madara's jaw sets. Even if only temporarily, the younger Senju killed Izuna. If it hadn't been for her...he would have permanently. Surely if he knew the woman was some sort of boon, he wouldn't hesitate to cut her down to remove her abilities from the Uchiha's arsenal.

The thought brings a hot bed of coals to his gut, simmering with anger. As...stubborn as Madara may be, Izuna was right. In the grand scheme of things, she's an innocent. And as unorthodox a pair they may be...he's given his word that they would be partners. Equals.

...above anything else, she is now his.

There's an urge to protect his brother that burns above all else – to salvage what little he has left. But it's not a possessive feeling. This, however...

He stares at her, not sure how to put his thoughts into words. So, for the moment, he dismisses them. A hesitant hand raises, moving a few stray locks from her face, his own held in an unreadable facade. Superficially, he'll admit, she's pretty...to a point. Not the type he's used to in a clan of dark locks and eyes, but...perhaps it's that uniqueness he can blame for his staring.

Another ten minutes pass before she stirs, lids twitching before parting. For the moment, her guarded edge is lost, staring up languidly through the last fog of sleep.

The Uchiha stiffens slightly.

“...it's over...?”

“Yes.” The curt reply feels awkward, but...he can't manage much else with her staring at him. He can quite clearly sense she's still deeply drained of chakra – no wonder she's so lethargic.

“...I lost...”

In spite of himself, Madara gives a short snort. “...you nearly had me.”

“...damn it...”

A dark brow raises. He didn't expect such language from a healer. Apparently she loses her censor when tired. He'd almost dare to call that endearing. “I'm sure you'll do better next time.”

She gives him a sleep-ridden frown, almost akin to a pout. “...so that's it, then...”

“I'm sure you'll have more to say once you fully wake.”

Ryū stares off past him, heaving a sigh. “...am I making a mistake...?”

Madara doesn't answer. She's not speaking to him.

“...we've never had allies before...never shown bias before...” Silvers slide closed, expression pained with uncertainty and doubt. “...am I wrong...? I'm ignoring so many generations of tradition. What if the villagers are hurt – what if we're attacked? What if -?”

A gloved hand encases one of her own, lain across her middle, before he can stop himself. “...no one's going to get hurt. None of your people, at least. I already promised you that.”

Her gaze returns to his face, still unguarded. “...you make an awful lot of promises...”

“And I intend to keep them. All of them.”

“...will you be happy...with me?”

The query catches him off guard. “...I suppose we'll have to wait and see.”

She doesn't look satisfied by his answer, but lets her eyes close, slackening again.

“She awake?” Izuna rejoins them, arms folded.

“Briefly. She needs proper rest.”

“I'll see if I can't find her quarters.”

Madara offers no objection, too distracted. Only once he knows where to take her does he heft her from the settee, placing her instead within her futon.

From there, they wait.

There's a silent agreement not to leave the house. Though Izuna appears a bit hesitant, Madara manages to find something to stave off their appetite. “I doubt this will be a large trespass, all things considered.”

It's only come nightfall they hear her stir in the second story. Doing his best to ignore her footfalls, Madara pauses as a back door opens.

“...is she leaving?”

He doesn't answer.

Some time later, she slips back into the manor, clothed in a white yukata and with wet locks caught behind her head, feet bare upon the floor.

A strained silence falls between them.

“...apologies. I...did not mean to sleep so long.”

Madara simply waves off her repentance. “Better?”

“Yes.” After a pause, Ryū declines her head. “...thank you...for agreeing to my terms. You won our spar fairly. Therefore...I in turn agree to all we had discussed. I believe that will settle the matter...?”

“Largely. The rest we will decide as it meets us.”

“...you will wish to return, then?”

“Soon enough. We must still iron out the details of the migration.”

Something flickers across her face, but dies quickly.

“...and, I would much like to see more of your valley.”

“As you wish. There are guest quarters on the main floor. My...home is your home.” With another dip, she bids them goodnight, disappearing up the stairs.

“...well that wasn't too bad,” Izuna muses.

“Thus far. It may yet change after a night to stew it over.” Women can be fickle creatures.

The elder brother rises first come morning, abandoning their shared room. A hand at his neck, he catches sight of Ryū in the entryway, barely more than a silhouette. Even so, he can see the waves in her hair, tumbling to her tailbone. Hands fold at her front, simply staring out the door at the morning beyond.

“You're up early.”

“I always am. It becomes habit with our training, to rise with the dawn.” Still, she doesn't face him.

Reading no tension in her tone, he dares to stand beside her, taking in her view. Already the village stirs.

“...is this what you dream of...?”

He gives her a glance, but her own remains ahead.

“...uniting the clans into a village like this? Waking each morning to watch the fruits of your labor, your love?” A pause. “...it's been years since I left, and yet...nothing has changed. And I still feel the same swell of pride at what this village means. Perhaps now even moreso after seeing my share of the world, and its cruelties. Kusunokizan is simple...but it is good. I have to wonder if there is yet anything else like it...if anything else can be like it.”

Madara considers her a long moment. “...we must try.”

“...will your people be happy here? Or will it be so dull an existence? I wonder...if shinobi can come to appreciate how slow life is here. Or will they grow bored without blood to draw...?” Finally she turns to him, genuine curiosity in her gaze. “...could you ever be content with this? Once you achieve the peace you seek...will it be enough? Or will the song of war in your veins never truly silence...?”

“...war is all I have ever known. Any habit is hard to break. But some must, if one is to live.”

Silvers still stare, unblinking as she tries to read him. But in time, she faces her front once more. “...it's so strange. I've only just returned...and yet now, because of me...everything is different. From here on, everything will change. Everything I've known.” A pause. “...I am afraid.”

“Change is inevitable.”

“Is it...? Your existence, to this point, has never changed, has it...? So many years blurred together in war. I have to wonder how you and your kin will adapt after so long embedded in your ways.”

“It is not a matter of how. We simply...shall. It's necessary. A shinobi must always adapt.”

“...but will you still be shinobi, when all is said and done? If the world were to mold perfectly to your whims...there would be no fighting. What will all you know come to be worth, then?”

“There will always be threats.”

“...perhaps.”

Madara gives her another glance. “...I can't know what will happen. I can only do my best to be ready. So must you.”

“...so I shall.” Her eyes flicker to him uncertainly. “...and I suppose...we shall do so together.”

“As best we can.”

     8,147 words. I am ded. And tbh I wanted to just...keep going and going and going but this is long enough xD HOPEFULLY I’ll break my string of “write one thing and never continue it” with this because...I need more of this like nOW.

     ...anywayyy, this is that drabble I was talking about aGES AGO that has just...given me so much trouble to finish? And tbh I’m not...100% sure it’s good? I mean I like it but longer stuff makes me nervous that I rambled too much xD But reading it over for proofreading it didn’t FEEL too long, so...I guess we’ll see. I couldn’t pick a place to stop xD

     But yeah...I just...had one of those random “picture this” moments of Ryū in her Warring States verse interacting with Madara - how different things would be if she’d saved Izuna, because that’s when Mads really lost it tbh? Got the outline of this and just...wrote. And jEEZ did it end up long. And I just wanna write more of it, like...them actually getting to like each other, pfffft. I already have fluff scenes in my head and I’m like WHY CAN’T I JUST POOF THIS INTO EXISTENCE without having to sit and write for hours lol

     Anyway! Hopefully it’s not too long...or out of character...I know like nothing about Izuna so...I tried =‘D *throws at Phoenix and runs away*

[chaoussu]

Name: Hatake Inori Age: Part II: 18-20. Birthdate: 14th February (Aquarius) Nickname(s): KSX094. (Orochimaru) Inori-senpai. (Team Hana while undercover in the group). Inori-san. (Mo-Chiyome Performance group and customers/fools). Sensei. (Sakiko). Blood Type: O- Kekkei Genkai: Sharingan, Rinnegan. Occupation: Shinobi, Rank Jōnin Commander. Regular Envoy. Mercenary (former). Performer (former). Bounty Hunter (former). Experiment (former). Affiliation/Organizations: Konohagakure. Allied Shinobi Forces. Mo-Chiyome performance group (former). KSX Operation (former). Team: Fifth Division. Mo-Chiyome performance group (former). KSX Operation (former). Birthplace: Konohagakure. Familial Background: She possesses the blood and DNA of both the Senju and Uchiha, due to Orochimaru having taken the samples from Madara Uchiha’s and Hashirama Senju’s corpses. This was due to trying to make her obtain both the Sharingan and the Wood Style. She also possesses the DNA of Tsunade and Kakashi Hatake, so she could obtain talent in both ninjutsu and medical abilities, as well as become a prodigy. Due to being a synthetic human made by Orochimaru, she is somewhat Mitsuki’s older sister. She however read that a child is composed of the DNA of their mother and father, and thus sees Tsunade as her mother and Kakashi as her father. She sees Orochimaru as the equivalent of a doctor at a hospital, while Madara and Hashirama are great grandfathers, due to their age and the fact that Hashirama is Tsunade’s grandfather. Character Background: She was an experiment made by Orochimaru. While there were many subjects, she was one of five that survived and the only one that managed to obtain the rinnegan, after killing her own “siblings”. She was trained much like a root ninja, but after running out of books and scrolls to study with, she began stealing some during her missions. However some of them contained ordinary human knowledge like family, friendship and fictions with morals. From them she began to study about, what it meant to be “human”. Later on she met Itachi, who shared her wonder about what war, life and humanity was. The two got acquainted by training and discuss together. This became her first somewhat close relation to any human. Once on a mission to Suna, she was supposed to seal and steal Shukaku. She however chose to act as a child, and got close to the young and lonely Gaara that tried to make friends. All due to the sand defense he possessed. She originally tried to make him turn into Shukaku, however as time passed, she eventually truly held him dear and found him as a friend. She changed her view, the moment Gaara gave her a truly happy smile, with no ulterior motive or any negative thoughts and ideas. She ultimately chose to fail the mission and was forced back by Orochimaru. She was discovered, when Orochimaru became a missing-nin, and the place she was training at got found. She had full knowledge about the KSX operation, due to reading her own files and was given a pardon, on all the missions’ she had received from Orochimaru, in exchange of telling them about everything she knew. Additionally due to Kakashi’s mood after the death of Minato, as well as, her possessing his DNA, she was introduced to Kakashi, as a distant relative, and he was told to help her, get used to Konoha. However Danzou, who had heard the secret about her, send the Anbu after her, which led to her running away and never returning to Konoha, before the middle of the Fourth Shinobi World War.

Height: 166 cm. Weight: 45 kg. Tattoos/Birthmarks/Scars: She has “KSX094” tattooed on the back of her neck. Jewelry/Accessories: She wears two belts for her scrolls. A red one where they are visible, and a dark blue one with pockets for her other scrolls. The belts also carry the holster for her tantō. She wears a shuriken holder on her right leg. She also wears a bracelet, she was given as a birthday present. She wears her forehead protector on her left upper arm. Voice: Mimori Suzuko – (Momozono Nanami Kamisama Hajimemashita)

About the Character:

Personality:  She is open-minded and talks truthfully to people, believing that being dishonest and keeping you to yourself would only create a cliff. She is active and social, which is why she likes travelling. Additionally she just likes to have fun and great times, having great interest in new things. This can cause her to sometimes be rather childish and she is so friendly towards people that she doesn’t show so much respect as she carelessly treats people, however she wants, and does whatever she wants. She however understand social statuses and titles, so despite not truly caring, she uses her acting, to act respectful and responsible in front of people with said titles (unless they’re on friendly terms, yet again if they’re working).

She can be rather optimistic and forgiving, capable of even forgiving people, who once were after her life, claiming she might’ve deserved it, due to her past, thinking it was their duty, or because she doesn’t want to cause a circle of hatred. She has a lot of patience due to Kakashi being her family. She is also very independent and even goes on some missions alone, due to being good enough to take care of it herself. She can also be very stubborn, not backing down, but is also very obedient towards orders due to her past. She is also mentioned to be crazy, creative for her ideas and plans. She is encouraging, caring and tends to help out people and put others before herself. She has been mentioned as motherly for her ability to take care of housework, needlework and children. She emits warmth now, but can revert back to her coldness during missions or when pissed.

(Most of her personality traits originate from her acting. Just like Kabuto and Itachi, who lost themselves, Inori lost herself too. However instead of struggling with herself, she chose to adopt the persona, she felt most comfortable with, which later became her true self.)

Likes: Nature and animals. Dislikes: Needless killing. Favorite Foods: Bento. Least Favorite Foods: Anything pickled. Hobbies/Interests: Learning new things, travelling & crafting.

Phobias/Fears: Her past mistakes and accomplishments. While no longer scared of him, Inori still feels a great discomfort around Guy and screams if he suddenly appears in front of her or gets too close. She also feels this way towards Rock Lee due to reminding her of Guy. Habits:

   -       Appearing out of nowhere and surprising/scaring people by doing so.    -       Being brutally honest and very threatening when pissed.    -       After having killed someone, she tends to pray for them once, when she has the time, and if possible give them a grave.    -       After a fight she tends to brush her hand through the top of her hair and out, which creates the split in the middle or split on the side depending on whether she is                   being relaxed or serious.

Mannerisms: Very friendly and open-minded to others. However also mysterious in the way she never talks about herself, unless asked. She is also very literate in words. For instance she says, she was created not born, due to being created in a lab, much like a product. Additionally she doesn’t regard herself as a human. She also takes honor and pride in being honest, stating she has never lied. She also puts others before herself and greatly suppresses her own sadness and pain, not letting people see her cry. Skills/Talents: Photographic memory and quick-learner. She is also a very skilled actress, capable of fooling anyone with her acting and disguises.

Best Qualities: She is very determined to both fulfilling her missions, but also protect the people dear to her. She values honesty and friendship above all, even missions. Worst Qualities: She is very suicidal, risking and throwing away her life easily. Morality/Ethics: If killing isn’t necessary, then don’t kill. Never abandon your comrades. Goals/Motivations/Dreams: A home. “I wish for a home. One where I can casually visit friends and hang out with them till late, and then go back to my house, where I would say ‘I’m back’ and be greeted with a smile telling me ‘Welcome back’. I may have a house, but it is empty with no one inside, it is lacking the warmth of a true home” – Inori.

10 Facts Trivia:

   -       She wants to fight Itachi and Gaara, both to see where she is placed among the two other children, she once hung out with.    -       She went by “Mochizuki Inori”, while travelling and being a part of the Mo-Chiyome performance group and was in the Maple Theatre group as an actress.    -       She was created in the form of a six-years-old girl, but her body remained in that form for many years, as her body wouldn’t age, before her actual age would catch up.    -       Her eyes and hair changes between serious times to relaxed times.                o   Serious: Her eyes are smaller and sharper. Additionally her hair gets split on the side with two strands on her face and two locks of her hair gets put over her                                          shoulders and onto her chest.                o   Relaxed: Her eyes are bigger, rounder and softer. She also gets her hair split in the middle and all of it remains mainly on her back.    -       The only mission she has ever failed to complete was the one in Suna.

               o   When Shukaku finally appeared, she stopped him and brought him outside of Suna, to seal him, but then Yashamaru told her that if Shukaku was extracted from                        him, he would die. This led her to hesitate and ultimately give up on her mission. When the Kazekage, Rasa, appeared and demanded an explanation, Yashamaru                      covered for her, due to her being Gaara’s friend and the choice she made.

   -       She was given the White Light Chakra Sabre, by Kakashi on the first birthday that was held for her, while the bracelet was given on the last, before she left Konoha.    -       She made “Mr. Cuddles” as a birthday present to Gaara, during her time in Suna.    -       She is expected to die when she reaches her fifties, as she is not a perfect creation. (technically, not physically).    -       She is good at gambling and has a high tolerance against alcohol. Though she is not addicted to either.

(To Tsunade, when she questioned, if they could trust her)“Lies and mistrust will only broaden the cliff between two lands”

(To Itachi when they were kids after being asked for advice about Danzo’s order)“You have two choices. You can choose to betray your heart and fulfill your duty, or you can choose to follow your heart and refuse your duty. If you choose to fulfill it, congratulations you’ve succeeded in being a shinobi, however if you choose to follow your heart, you’ve succeeded in being human”

(To Gaara when they were kids and he got upset, due to her calling him weird all the time)“I like weird people, they’re interesting. They’re not as simple as ordinary people, and their weird features make it more fun to get to know them. I pity those who judge a person for being extraordinary. It prevents them from getting a great friend like you”

Naruto/Naruto Shippuden belongs to Masashi Kishimoto Hatake Inori belongs to me

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fic: Lonely, Dark and Deep - ao3 link - Chapter 6

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Madara/Tobirama, background others Summary:

Hashirama was always going to have to leave Konoha behind one day, but no one was expecting for it to happen so soon.

Tobirama falls apart without his brother.

Madara, mad and bitter and preparing to leave himself, finds that he’s now without his best friend and responsible for a village he’d just about given up on.

And now it seems like there’s something not quite right with the forest…

———————————————————————————–

I’m sorry, Madara.

Tobirama can’t help but think of it that way, oddly enough. He wouldn’t have thought that that’d be the thought that keeps plaguing him, but somehow, it is.

Madara, who tried so hard – who helps when he can, doing whatever he can – doing far more than Tobirama ever expected, really. Someone to help with the paperwork, someone to share the burden, someone to keep him company, even a body to warm him at night…

It really has helped.

Tobirama would have been dead without him.

It’s not – it’s not a brother, no. But it’s something.

To Tobirama’s surprise, it’s more than the stopgap he initially assumed it would be.

Indeed, now that Madara is not insane, not driven mad by pain and anger and loss, not burdened by the curse of hatred, Tobirama can see why Hashirama liked him so much. Clever and creative, with a wit biting almost to the point of pain; compassionate, in his own way, behind the mask of a misanthropic grouch he likes to cart around – fond of children, who are fond of him in return now that he no longer looks on the verge of murder.

Exceptionally devoted to the village he named.

(Just seeing Madara reminds Tobirama of the best parts of his brother. To watch Madara walk through the village is to see Hashirama do the same, a missing shadow, and Tobirama thought that would hurt, but – it doesn’t. It makes Tobirama feel like Hashirama's only in the next room hiding away from them, fearful of the paperwork they’re going to make him do, and pretending that that is the case makes the days just barely bearable.)

Maybe if Izuna’s death didn’t lie between them –

But no.

It does, it’s there, and for all that Tobirama has retroactively learned regret, sometimes plays with seals that verge on breaking the flow of time itself if only he could go back to fix it, he can’t. He will always be the man who murdered Madara’s brother, and he can’t change that.

He can’t make Madara forget it, and that means it’s pointless to hope – to dream that they could ever be more than they are.

More than just a stopgap.

Maybe things would be different, if they were more than that – but they’re not.

And so the decision is easy.

Easier than it should be.

I’m sorry, Madara.

Tobirama promised the man that he would never to turn his sword against himself, and he intends to keep that promise – but there are times when a sacrifice is called for, and Tobirama would never sacrifice his students if he could sacrifice himself instead.

They're all exhausted by now, running on empty. Kiri has sent so many more shinobi to ambush them than they'd ever anticipated could be possible‎.

They've left a mountain of corpses behind them, but there are still more - the strongest ones, the most ruthless ones, the ones who are waiting until they've been worn to nothing before striking, the ones who will undoubtedly boast about having caused the demise of Konoha's best even as they stand on the shoulders of all who came before.

They're so tired - and no one is more tired than Tobirama.

He's been tired for so long. Nothing has mattered since Hashirama died, not really - he loves his students, he loves his sister-in-law and her children, he loves his village, but it's not enough‎.

Nothing is enough.

Even Madara, Madara and their half-unspoken thing, their stopgap, their it-might-have-been-if-things-were-different –

Well, in the end, he's not enough, either.

Tobirama misses his brother.

He misses his brother so much.

He misses Hashirama’s enthusiasm and his charisma, the way he saw the future of their village, of peace, like it was a physical thing. Tobirama’s nothing like that – for him, though he tries his best, trying to create a peaceful future is like walking through a fog following a map you’ve only ever heard of second-hand, now that the one who could see the way is gone.

His guiding light is gone.

He wants, more than anything, to see his brother again.

Tobirama wants to be clear, though, that no matter what Madara heavily implies (and sometimes states outright), he is not actively suicidal, or at least he’s not anymore. He hasn’t made any concrete plans to kill himself – and anyway, he can’t; he knows that, now that his mind is clear.

Hashirama entrusted the village to his hands, and he would never reject any gift his brother gave him, no matter how heavy the burden falls.

He will not let him down. He will not let the village down.

(He might let Madara down.)

So, he’s not suicidal. And if he sometimes wishes there was a jutsu that could simply make him not be anymore, without causing any inconvenience to anyone, well, that’s his own business.

It doesn’t matter as long as he doesn’t do anything about it.

But when he and his students agree that the only way for most of them to survive is ‎for one of them to act as a lure, even knowing that whoever volunteers for that will not come back alive –

The choice is easy.

It isn’t really suicide if it’s for a good reason, surely, and what better reason than to save his students’ lives?

(He knows he’s lying. He knows exactly what he’s doing, but – he’s so tired. He’s tired, and he misses his brother.)

His students look at him with hurt eyes, mouths shaping around cries of "no!" and "it's too soon!" in just the way his own did when it was Hashirama’s turn to leave him behind, but Tobirama knows that ‎they'll be fine without him.

They’re strong and skilled, and he’s taught them everything he knows; they’ve been refusing to take the graduation exams despite his occasional hints that they were more than ready, but he suspects that has more to do with wanting to keep him as their teacher than anything else.

And as for the village, well – Madara will be a good Hokage, and, if he refuses, either Sarutobi or Kagami would be eminently suitable to stand for election, and he tells them as much.

They will tend carefully to Hashirama's village, make it prosper, and they will live, and that's all he really cares about now, isn't it? That's all.‎

He can die easy, knowing that everything that really means something will be taken care of.

(If he feels slightly bad about dying before helping Madara complete his Rinnegan project, well, at least they’ve made some progress; Madara can surely finish the rest himself, if at a slower pace. Maybe that will help compensate Madara for losing the only thing between him and the role of Hokage, which Madara – although eminently suited for – very loudly does not want.)

It won’t be a bad death.

He can die easy‎ - and surely, surely if he dies in the forest, defending his brother's village and its children, then fate will not be so cruel as to deny him the chance to see Hashirama one more time.

Surely.

The decision made, Tobirama sends his students away and turns to face his enemies, dropping into a ready position. He may not have anything to live for, but he is as stubborn and spiteful as he has ever been, and he will not simply give in and let them kill him.

He'll make them pay for the privilege in blood.

‎The ensuing fight is long and painful - the Kiri nin are cautious of him, even in his drained and weakened state, even with a stab wound in his side inhibiting his movements, even with his sword arm partially dislocated, rendering every strike agony. They hang back, slicing at him from a distance, and he's not fast enough right now to avoid them.

Death of a thousand cuts, he thinks at one point, nearly delirious from blood loss. And I won't even be able to see the last one coming.

A nasty strike to his head has rendered him nearly blind, blood gushing out to drip into his already poor eyes; he's been using some of it to form bullets or dragons, red and fierce as iron, but his chakra is low, too low, and he can't spare the energy to wipe the blood away, much less heal himself.

He's going to die.

It's so close, he can almost feel it - he even imagines he can feel Hashirama's so-familiar chakra, rich with growth and tasting of green, rough-textured like bark and soft as moss. It's all around him now, warm and welcoming.

No, death won't be so bad, if it means he gets to see Hashirama again.

Not so bad at all...

"This won't do, Tobirama," a voice says, welcome and beloved, and Tobirama recognizes that voice.

How could he not? It sang him to sleep as a newborn; it was by his side his whole life; it has been so notable in its absence these past few years that just hearing it again is enough to send Tobirama to his knees, tears welling in his eyes and bile on his tongue.

It cannot be.

It cannot be.

And yet – who else could it be but him?

Who else, but –

"Hashirama," he croaks.

As if summoned by his words, the forest springs to life around him, roots and branches becoming weapons, the trees themselves reaching for the Kiri nin who blanch and try to run.

Try, because no one ever escapes the Mokuton when Hashirama is really trying.

Tobirama can't tear his barely-seeing eyes away from his enemies as they die, the familiar sight of trees given life by Mokuton too dear a sight to miss. He can't bring himself to turn his head to look at his brother - his wonderful, beloved, dead brother, who remembers his name and remembers he loves him and whose presence is so much everything that Tobirama wants that he's suddenly convinced that he's been trapped in the most terrible type of genjutsu.

‎He can't turn to look, because what if it's not him?

What if it's a dream, a delusion, genjustu or even a henge – a pale imitation that's stolen his brother’s voice and power and is using it only to distract him?

Tobirama couldn't bear it.

If the Kiri nin wanted to make him die by his own hand, that would do it; they wouldn't need anything more than that. To give him the hope of Hashirama, and then to find out it was all a lie -

Even Madara in the worst of his madness would not have been so cruel.

Out of the corner of his eye, in the last dark blurry bit of vision he has left, he sees a shadow of something in the wood, large and overgrown and old, but before he can even wonder about it his senses are flooded with familiar chakra.

His brother’s chakra – his brother, unforgettable, vast and overwhelming, a little different perhaps than exactly what he remembers it being but still unmistakably Hashirama’s –

The next thing Tobirama knows he's being gathered up into Hashirama's arms, just the way he remembers from when he was just a toddler - lifted up in arms far larger than his own, surrounded and encompassed and protected by the feeling that has always meant safety.

No one could mimic that chakra, that feeling, not from such close range and against a sensor as strong as Tobirama, no one.

He’s overwhelmed by a wash of relief.

It’s not because he’s alive.

It’s because Hashirama is.

Somehow, impossibly - he's alive.

Tobirama opens eyes that he must have closed at some point to look, terror gone and replaced by a budding sense of joy, suddenly eager to look - ‎

Except it seems he didn't close his eyes after all. No matter how he tries, he can’t see anything at all, the blood loss turning the world around him into vacant blackness as his consciousness leaves him.

But ‎he can still hear.

"Sleep, Tobirama," his brother croons. "I'll take care of you - and I'll be here when you wake up."

Hashirama has always known exactly what to say.

Sleep snatches Tobirama away.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Eyestealer 8 - ao3 link

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Senju Hashirama & Senju Tobirama (mostly gen, hints of other relationships)

Summary: Hashirama really doesn’t approve of the thoughtful way his father looks at his younger brother’s bright red eyes. He’s sure it doesn’t mean anything good for anyone.

He’s right.

——————————————————————————————

"What's going on with the Uchihas?" Tobirama asks one day, only a little while later. "It almost feels like they've been avoiding us recently."

"I have no idea," Hashirama says, and patiently endures the moment or two of additional‎ scrutiny before Tobirama believes him.

Apparently his credibility on all things Madara-related is not the best. He can't really blame Tobirama for his skepticism, either.

"I wish I did know," he adds, pouting. Madara even missed their monthly meet up. It happened fairly frequently - missions, clan business, whatnot - so he isn't worried or anything, but he would like an explanation.

"You might yet get your chance to find out," Tobirama says dryly. "Your friend is approaching Senju lands alone."

"Madara? He's - what? Really? Here? He never comes to find me!"

"He is this time. Go talk to him."

Hashirama is out the window before Tobirama can remind him to take paperwork with him or something equally awful.

“Madara!” he exclaims, leaping down from one of the trees into the clearing Madara has paused in – on Senju lands, technically, but not so close that he can’t quickly retreat if someone catches him trespassing.

Normally, this would be when Madara rolls his eyes and mutters something about demonic sensors – he’s very impressed with Tobirama, as is only right – but this time he doesn’t.

“Hashirama,” he says instead, quite seriously. “We need to talk.”

Hashirama lets himself hope, just a little. “About peace?” he asks, smiling.

“No. It’s about…well, your mother’s infidelity.”

“I’m going to kill you now,” Hashirama says, still smiling.

“What? Wait, no, that’s not how I meant –”

Hashirama eventually concludes that Madara probably didn’t mean to say whatever it was he’d been intending to say quite like that.

“You fight terribly when you’re feeling guilty,” he tells the man currently buried under several feet of tree roots carved with chakra suppressing seals. “I’m still considering whether or not to, I don’t know, rip your arms off or something. That was very rude.”

“…how’d you get the seals onto the roots and still move the roots?” his friend’s somewhat muffled voice replies.

“I use the Mokuton to carve the seals into place after I’ve already moved the roots, but don’t try to distract me. How could you say something like that? After…”

That’s what really stings. Back when they were friends, Hashirama told Madara about his mother – how beautiful she was, how happy, how brave – and how their father had beaten her down until she thought she was so much less than she was, how he’d accused her of any number of things, unfaithfulness most of all, and used those accusations as justification to take away more and more of her freedom until she sought the only exit she felt was left to her.

How dare Madara say something like that, when he knows how much it reminds Hashirama of that pain?

“Maybe you’re under some sort of mind control,” Hashirama muses. “I could try to shock your brain back to normal…”

“Don’t do that! No shocking! You might have mastered raiton, you ridiculous over-achiever, but I don’t trust you of all people near my brain, medic or no medic. I just – stuck my foot in it, okay? It happens. Now let me up.”

Hashirama just sprawls out further on the roots. “My entire clan would probably tell me to kill you right this instant. Aren’t you the one insisting that we’re mortal enemies now?”

“Not anymore I’m not.”

That’s enough to get Hashirama’s attention. “What do you mean?”

“Let me up, and I’ll tell you.”

Hashirama rolls off the roots and steps back. "Talk."

Madara very carefully extracts himself and stands. "I said that badly, and I apologize," he says, bowing formally. "I...uh...I'm not sure how to start saying this."

"I'm fairly sure that anything will be better than calling my mother an adultress," Hashirama says, his voice dry as dust. "I can't believe that was your first choice on how to start this conversation, Madara, really. I'm good-natured, but no one's that good-natured."

"Clearly," Madara says, but he looks properly abashed.

"Now, what’s this about?"

Madara takes a deep breath. ‎"Your brother. Tobirama."

"Yes...? Are you questioning his sexual fidelity as well? I must say I mind that much less, given that he's not married. Or even dating anyone."

Actually, now that Hashirama thinks about it, is that normal for a seventeen year old? Izuna certainly seems to have a woman hanging off his arm every time Hashirama spies him from a distance.

Madara makes a face, half-irritation, half-distress. "No, it's not that."

Hashirama’s quickly losing patience with his otherwise normally very straightforward friend. "Just spit it out already!"‎

"He's got the Sharingan!"‎ Madara exclaims, then promptly looks mildly shocked at himself.

…oh.

Hashirama feels a great sense of calm settle over him. It feels remarkably similar to horror. "And?"

He doesn't want to sacrifice his best friend to save his brother. He doesn't, he doesn't, doesn't, doesn't -

(But – for you, anija, anything, and how could he promise any less?)

Madara blinks, taken aback. "Wait. You know?"

"He's my brother. Of course I know," Hashirama says, still caught in that horrible calm that precedes and permits cold-blooded murder. "More importantly, what are you going to do about it?"

And how many people have you told? How many more people have to die to keep a secret I never wanted?

"I mean, that's actually what I've been struggling with," Madara says, and laughs a little, running a hand through his hair. He hasn't noticed Hashirama's mood yet, so Tobirama's lessons on concealing killing intent are working. Hashirama's not sure if that's a good thing or not. "Normally we deal with this by offering an adoption, but I don't think that applies here."

Hashirama pauses. "...what?"

A little of the murderous rage cracks and chips away. That's not what he expected Madara to say at all.

"I mean, obviously -"

"No, wait," he says, holding up his hands. "The Uchiha deal with this through adoption? How can that possibly be an acceptable solution to your clan?"

"Well, you know," Madara says, suddenly awkward again. "Whatever the circumstances of his conception, he's still a cousin, right? It's not his fault."

"His...conception?"

Madara blinks owlishly at him. "Yes? That's why I started with that, uh, unfortunate comment about your mother."

"You think someone from your clan raped my mother," Hashirama says, the pieces clicking together - Madara's strange behavior on the riverbank and his words today.

The Sharingan is a bloodline limit. Of course.

If you didn't think it was eye-stealing, the only other explanation is an unsanctioned child born of the bloodline - an illicit affair, or, given the state of affairs between Senju and Uchiha, more likely a rape. Even if Hashirama's mother was the sort to be unfaithful, there was no way any Uchiha that had successfully seduced the wife of the Senju clan head into a clandestine relationship would fail to report the situation to their own clan head.

"Well, yes. How else could he have gotten a Sharingan?" Madara asks, frowning. "I mean, there's the obvious, of course, but even if I thought your brother was the sort to go in for eyestealing, which for all that demon lacks the most basic understanding of morality I really don't, I checked. For obvious reasons, we keeps extremely close track of everyone in our clan, alive or dead, and it’s clan protocol to prioritize disposal of eyes over retreat, even if you’re ultimately forced to abandon the corpse. Our records indicate we haven't lost any eyes to thieves in nearly two decades."

It's extremely tempting to let Madara keep his illusions‎. But - adoption -

No one is taking Hashirama's brother away.

(We have to take care of it, one way - or the other, Izuna said that day by the river, and he meant death. The Uchiha can abide eye-thieves, if they must, but another possible progenitor, another source of the Sharingan for children unnumbered? Never.)

If Madara was anyone else, Hashirama would kill him now, knowing that he's been keeping his suspicions to himself.

But - it is Madara.

His best friend, his brother by choice, the other half of his soul.

Hashirama owes him an explanation, at the very least, and maybe even a chance to propose a solution that won’t result in the death of one of Hashirama's most precious people by his own hands.

"More like a decade and a half," he says, and that old bitterness twists his lips into an expression he knows doesn't fit well onto his face. He's done so well with his vow not to be angry - happy or sad, yes, but not angry, not bitter, not malicious and bullying and like his father - that he sees shock on Madara's face at the sight of it. "If you want to be specific."

Madara is frowning, though; he still hasn't put it together.

"Tobirama is an albino," Hashirama tells him gently. "And my father's true-born son."

"But - the Sharingan -"

"He wasn't even old enough to be talking properly when Butsuma did the transplant," Hashirama says, and watches the understanding crash into Madara's face. The horror, of course, he expected that, but also - pity? Sympathy?

How strange. Everyone knows how the Uchiha feel about eyestealers.

"Are you saying," Madara says, very carefully, as if every word had a terrible weight to it, "that your brother has had a fully activated Sharingan his entire life?"

"Everyone knows stolen Sharingan don't go quiet; only born Uchiha can deactivate them," Hashirama says, puzzled by Madara's seeming non-reaction to the issue of theft. "So – yes? Obviously?"

Madara looks sickened. "All those battlefields, all those years...how does he sleep?"

"Oh, huh, are the nightmares related to the Sharingan?" Hashirama asks, abruptly distracted. He’s always had a bit of an issue with focus and Madara knows well how to exploit that, but this seems like a sincere question on his friend’s part. "Of course! That would explain why they're so vivid – what? Don't look at me that way!"

Madara has an extremely good judgy face.

Hashirama holds up his hands to ward it off. "In answer to your question, he came up with a timed-release jutsu that induces a state similar to a coma for the times it gets ‎particularly bad."

"Are you serious?"

"Apparently actual sleep is trickier to mimic? I don’t know, he says he’s working on it. And anyway, he doesn't have battlefield nightmares all the time; sometimes he gets stuck re-living, I don’t know, every breakfast we’ve had for the last four years.”

(“We need to have more variety at breakfast,” Tobirama said with unusual fervor that particular morning, clutching at Hashirama’s lapels with clenched fists and staring up at him with bloodshot eyes. “Rice with miso is all well and good and I know we both like it in the morning, but the table was endless and every meal was the same as the last, stretching out into infinity…I think I might have seen one of the hells of the afterlife, anija. I think I saw hell, and it was breakfast.”)

Madara scrubs at his face, still looking horrified. “Of course. It’s always on, recording the mundane as well as the battlefield...I can’t even imagine. All those horrible council meetings! Stuck in your brain! Forever!”

Hashirama nods. He’d always acknowledged his brother’s perfect memory to be a curse, even before he’d found out it was from the Sharingan.

It’s fun to see someone else realize it, though; their village elders always seemed to think that because it was an asset it could have no downsides whatsoever.

“This is a disaster,” Madara says after a few moments more of contemplation. “I’d thought…a cousin, you know, that’s something; I could do something with that. But a thief?”

Oh, look, there’s that feeling of murderous calm again.

He really doesn’t want to have to kill Madara. Not ever, but certainly not before they’ve even had a chance to build their village together, the dream Hashirama’s never given up on.

(Anything, anija.)

“…I’ve decided that I don’t like it when you’re quiet,” Madara says after some time has passed with Hashirama struggling with what to do. “Please say something.”

There’s nothing to be said.

“Anything will do,” Madara adds.

“I murdered my father in front of the Senju clan elders.”

That…wasn’t what he’d planned to say.

“…not that. Definitely not that. You what?!”

Hashirama shrugs.

“I mean – I thought – I heard that…well, you know…”

Of course Hashirama knows.

Only the elders saw it happen, but rumor spread like the wind. Everyone in Fire Country by now knows – or think they know – that Tobirama murdered his own father in the middle of his own clan compound where he reasonably expected to be safe.

Opinions are generally split as to whether Hashirama forgave his brother's actions because he’s a soft-hearted idiot or because he was secretly in on the plan.

“Genjutsu,” Hashirama explains succinctly. He didn't need to explain that part in detail, not to an Uchiha. “The whole table, so when they compared notes afterwards, they all reported seeing the same.”

“…oh. Uh. Huh. I mean…you did...Wow. I don’t even…I can't even imagine...I assume Butsuma was planning something particularly grotesque, then? What was it?”

“You really don’t want to know.”

“Right. I’m going to go out on a limb and guess it involved my clan somehow, and probably your brother, too.” Madara shakes his head in disgust. “That man’s hatred for all things Uchiha was outsized even for your clan…why are you telling me this now?”

Hashirama certainly hadn’t mentioned it before, not even when Madara had hinted around the subject a few times right after Hashirama had been named Clan Head and all those rumors were flying around.

“Because sometimes I get the feeling that you forget that I'm a shinobi, too,” Hashirama says honestly. “I'm not actually as nice as you keep telling yourself I am.”

Madara blinks owlishly at him. “What are you talking about?”

Hashirama sighs. “You’re right. I killed my father to protect my brother. Why mention it? Because of what we’re talking about right now. You do realize that if anyone found out about what Butsuma did, your clan would be duty-bound to kill Tobirama for eye-stealing, right?”

From Madara’s expression, he’d been so focused on the horrors of an always-active Sharingan that he really hadn’t thought about it.

“Not to mention the rest of my clan as an example, even though all of the people who actually did the deed are already dead – in fact, even more so because they’re all dead. You’d need revenge on someone, after all, and the only valid scapegoat would be either me, in my role as clan head, or maybe all of us. Even if you couldn’t convince the samurai to join in, the Hyuuga would get over their dislike of you in a second if it meant the eradication of a noble clan that steals eyes.”

Madara’s eyes are growing wider by the minute.

“And even if I agreed to defame my mother’s name so that you could claim Tobirama was your cousin, he would never agree to join your clan, and I’d never agree, either,” Hashirama continues, because Madara might not have thought about this but he has. “They’d kill him in a second if he went – he’s killed too many of your clan to live peacefully there. But not agreeing to go means your clan will demand his head, or at least that he be castrated, to make sure there���s no chance of any new non-Uchiha wielders of the Sharingan. Isn’t that right?”

Madara’s mouth opens, then shuts. He doesn’t deny it.

“So, that’s why I told you.”

“I get it,” Madara says, and at last, at last, he finally seems to. “Our friendship or your family…it’s the same choice I made.”

“I picked you, that day by the riverbank,” Hashirama reminds him. It’s always going to be a little bit of a sore spot that Madara didn’t do the same, even with the tentative truce they now have between them. “I picked peace, or the possibility of peace. I still do, every day. I don’t want to pick anything else. But…it’s Tobirama.”

“Your last brother.”

“Yes.”

Madara is quiet for a moment. “We can try to think of something,” he finally says, his voice low and serious. “But, if we don’t…I guess this is it, isn’t it? We’ll have to fight for real. To the death.”

“I’m a shinobi!” Hashirama exclaims, putting his face in his hands. He doesn’t want to see Madara’s expression right now. “How many times to I have to say it? Shinobi! Not a stupid noble samurai! Don’t you get it?”

“What do you –”

“Madara, the plant with the white flowers growing to your left is called water hemlock; if its roots enter your bloodstream from any direction, your central nervous system will immediately start shutting down, and a single squirt of its sap into your eyes will render you instantly and very painfully blind. The red berries hanging over your head are jequirity beans; a single pinprick can be fatal, and even just inhaling its dust can cause liver failure. That purple flower by your feet is aconite; even skin contact can be enough to stop your heart. We put it on our arrowheads when we hunt wolves.”

Madara is gaping at him.

“Do you understand now?” Hashirama asks. He might be crying. No, he’s definitely crying, with snot and everything. He doesn’t want to kill his best friend. “I might be friendly, I might be good-natured, but I’m a shinobi. I don’t fight fair. If you push me to pick between you and my clan, really push me, there’s not going to be a fight. You’re just going to be dead.”

“…oh.”

“Yes, oh,” Hashirama says, sitting back up and crossing his arms over his chest. A pout is not the correct expression for the moment, but it’s what he’s got; he really doesn’t want to make this choice. “Did you think wood was the only thing I could manipulate?”

Madara mirrors his gesture. “It’s called the wood release!”

“It’s a metaphor!”

“How come you haven’t poisoned my whole clan, then?!” Madara shouts, glaring.

“What sort of monster do you think I am?!” Hashirama shouts back.

Madara looks at him suspiciously. “…you didn’t think of it, did you?”

“Never occurred to me for a minute,” Hashirama admits, his shoulders going up by his ears. “Besides, it wouldn’t work anyway; I’d need to get someone inside your compound to carry the seeds to the appropriate place. I can’t grow something specific like that out of nothing.”

Madara gestures very pointedly at the plants he is very carefully edging away from.

“Tobirama’s idea,” Hashirama says meekly. “He sews poison plant seeds into the hems of my clothing so I can use it wherever I am as a last resort. The Mokuton really is much better with wood than anything else – I can just summon that.”

“That brother of yours is a menace,” Madara says, then holds up his hands when Hashirama glares. “Don’t you poison-plant me! I meant it as a compliment. He’s…creative.”

Hashirama retracts the hemlock stalks that had started reaching for Madara’s arms.

They sit in silence for a few more minutes.

“What now?” Hashirama finally asks. “I know your clan sometimes permits outsiders to have a Sharingan, but my understanding that’s only in cases where it was a gift.”

“Yes. There’s no provision for eyestealers – though your brother didn’t steal them himself, which might make a difference.”

“To you, maybe. To your clan?”

“…hn. No. They might extend forgiveness under certain circumstances, but never to an enemy of the clan.”

“I really don’t want to kill you.”

“I’d really prefer not to die,” Madara says dryly, eying the plants with a newfound respect. Then, reluctantly, he says, “There is one possible solution.”

Hashirama looks at him.

“If – if your brother wasn’t an enemy of the clan anymore –”

“Say the word ‘marriage’ and I go back to trying to kill you.”

Madara chokes. “What? No! I meant peace. Our peace. The one you're always banging on about.”

Hashirama blinks. “Our village?”

“Yes!”

“You think…? I thought you said your clan would never go for it!”

“And that’s the problem with that as a solution,” Madara says, groaning. “Some of my clan could be convinced, maybe, but the most powerful ones still don’t want peace, and I'm in no position to simply overrule them.”

“Then a large number of your clan will be dead at some point sooner rather than later,” Hashirama says, not without sympathy. “I mean, what’s the other result here? Imagine if we did get into that fair fight to the death and you did kill me. Even then all you’d get is a pissed-off Tobirama in charge of the Senju armies.”

“…and possibly armies of the dead.”

“And possibly armies of the dead,” Hashirama agrees. He’s not sure what Tobirama will resort to if Hashirama dies, and he’s sure Tobirama’s private list of forbidden jutsu well exceeds the ones Hashirama knows enough about to ban. “Not to mention I’m pretty sure he’d break his vow not to actively use his dojutsu if his goal was to avenge me.”

Madara winces. “Great. That’d be just what we’d need. Though we do have something of an edge on countering Sharingan techniques, even if…ugh, he’s copied every single thing he’s seen my entire clan do on the battlefield, hasn’t he?”

Hashirama smirks. “You’re the Sharingan expert, you tell me.”

“Always active, I can scarcely even contemplate it. My clan has a traditional sleep jutsu, by the way, to help deal with Sharingan nightmares; I can teach you.”

“That would be great,” Hashirama says, enthused. “Maybe Tobirama will be less grumpy if he got some more sleep.”

“You realize you can’t kill me if you want me to teach it to you.”

“Oh. Right. Hmm.”

Madara snorts. “To be perfectly honest, I’m surprised he survived at all,” he says. “The chakra requirements of a Sharingan is steep, and his is activated all the time. Why doesn’t he cover his eyes?”

“He does, sometimes, but it never occurred to us that his chakra issues were tied to his eyes before we learned he had the Sharingan, and by then it was habit to leave them uncovered. It would've been strange to suddenly start.”

“…you didn’t know?”

“Senju don’t look Uchiha in the eyes, you know that. And it’s not like Butsuma ever said. I only figured it out, you know, after your eyes…you know. Then.”

“I’m glad you killed your father,” Madara says, oddly passionate. “I’m really glad.”

Hashirama nods, tickled by the sight of Madara working himself into a rage over Tobirama’s well-being, something he’d never expected to happen even in the daydreams where they successfully established a village together. His prickly brother and his even more prickly friend…that was a yelling match just waiting to happen.

He'd give a lot to see that yelling match come to pass.

“This might be enough to help convince Izuna,” Madara finally says. “He’s Tobirama’s rival – the idea that Tobirama’s taking it easy on him? He’ll hate it.”

“Tobirama isn’t –”

“He’s deliberately not using the Sharingan.”

“Well, I mean, he wouldn’t have used it against anyone else anyway?” Hashirama tries.

Madara rolls his eyes at him.

“To be perfectly honest, Izuna should be more worried about Tobirama normally,” Hashirama says, shrugging helplessly. “He’s just about done developing another new jutsu –”

“Another? Already?”

“He works on them in sequence, I think. He says the new one is good enough to beat the Sharingan.”

“And he’d know, too,” Madara says, scowling. “Given that he has a set to test it on.”

Hashirama winces. “How will irritating Izuna help get us to peace?” he asks instead. “You didn’t say.”

“Izuna’s one of the strongest proponents against us accepting your offers of peace,” Madara explains. “He thinks it’s a trap designed to lead us all to our doom –”

“Classic Uchiha understatement, there.”

“Shut up. If he realizes that he’s only alive because Tobirama is holding back, he might be convinced – a number of the others might be convinced – that peace and a joint village is the only alternative to utter catastrophe for our clan anyway.”

“True,” Hashirama says thoughtfully. “I mean, it really sort of is? Even putting aside his regular set of new jutsu, Tobirama’s making progress on his Susanoo and I know that as soon as he’s got that down, he’s planning on using it to find a way to get through to Izuna’s, and…what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Madara’s back just straightened like he’d been hit by lightning and he was staring at Hashirama like his hair had suddenly lit on fire.

Hashirama checks, but it hasn’t.

“Okay, seriously, what?” he asks. “You use the Susanoo all the time, it’s not that weird.”

“Hashirama, you idiot!” Madara hisses, looking like he has a headache that could only be relieved by punching Hashirama a few times. “The Susanoo isn’t a skill associated with the Sharingan. It’s associated with the Mangekyo.”

Hashirama blinks. “I – know? But isn’t that just an evolution of the Sharingan?”

“Yes!”

“So…?”

“You just told me that Tobirama didn’t kill your father. Then who did he kill?”

Hashirama blinks again. “I’m not following. Tobirama’s killed lots of people, you know that.”

“No, that’s not…no!” Madara grits his teeth. “I’m going to tell you something that you’re going to forget as soon as this conversation ends, okay?”

Hashirama nods obediently.

“The Mangekyo is activated by the guilt causing the death of someone you care about.”

Madara and Izuna both developed theirs shortly after Tajima’s death – and they’d fought like furies before that, desperate to ensure he made it back from the battlefield alive.

“…oh.”

Seems like Madara really was the right person to talk to about what he did to his father.

“Yes, oh. So who did Tobirama kill?”

“No one.”

“Hashirama –”

“No, really! He’s just an idiot!”

Madara stares at him.

“I mean, for a genius, he’s an idiot,” Hashirama explains. “And you know me, I know what I’m talking about. He considers himself responsible for the death of one of our brothers, but he didn’t actually kill him, directly, he just – failed to get there in time. He blames himself.”

Madara scowls, but nods reluctantly. “I’ve heard that causing death by negligence can work, sometimes. But still – your other brothers have been dead as long as I’ve known you. Are you telling me that that white demon developed the Mangekyo before I developed the Sharingan?”

“Uh.”

“No, don’t tell me, I might scream. How are his eyes still intact? The Mangekyo is degenerative.”

“It’s what?!”

“I mean, I suppose he must not use it often, and it’s the use that compounds the effect, but –”

“What do you mean, degenerative? What happens? How quickly?”

“Still, you’d think, after that many years the damage –”

Hashirama grabs Madara by the arms and shakes him. “Answer my question! What will happen to his eyes? To your eyes, you idiot, you use the Mangekyo all the time, what are you thinking -”

“Everything powerful comes with a downside,” Madara says, scowling. “Except maybe your Mokuton.”

Hashirama rolls his eyes. “I’m going to turn into a tree one day if I don’t die first, stop avoiding the subject. Are you saying that you’re going blind?”

“Stop shaking me! Yes, blindness is the end result, but it happens fairly slowly even if you repeatedly use the Mangekyo, and I’m sorry, did you say you turn into a tree?”

“Not for a while yet. This is more important!”

“Have people in your clan turned into trees before? Are there Senju tree-people out there somewhere?”

“Madara. Focus. Tobirama uses his Mangekyo for experimentation; I don’t know how often he’s using it. I’ll have to tell him to stop at once.”

“Probably a good idea,” Madara agrees, looking disturbed, though Hashirama’s unsure if it’s due to the idea of someone using the Mangekyo for experimentation purposes or if he’s still hung up on the tree thing.

(One day Hashirama will tell him that Senju legend has it that the walking ancestor trees supposedly remain conscious for centuries, trapped into unmoving forms, but he thinks now is probably not the time.)

Besides, it’s unimportant! Tobirama’s eyes degrading because of his use of the Mangekyo, on the other hand –

“Oh, that explains so much,” Hashirama says darkly, already planning on grabbing Tobirama under his arm and ruffling his hair until he begged (glared) for mercy. “His eyes are always needing healing; and here I thought it was just sun damage or something from his original condition. Ugh! I’m going to smack him! Hours and hours of work and he could have just not used it –”

Madara’s hand shoots out and grabs Hashirama’s around the arm, holding it almost painfully tight.

Hashirama looks at him, surprised to see that Madara’s face has gone pale again, his dark eyes intensely focused on Hashirama. “Madara? What?”

“You heal his eyes?”

“Well, I mean, it’s a joint effort,” Hashirama says, unsure of where Madara’s line of questioning is going. “He does his share of the work. It still takes hours and everyone’s chakra is a mess at the end and –”

“Hashirama, shut up,” Madara says. “No, wait, don’t – how exactly do you heal them?”

“By instructing the cells to repair themselves beyond their usual capabilities,” Hashirama says blankly. Madara’s never cared about the technicalities of healing before; he seemed to subscribe to the ‘glowing green hands make me feel better, details unimportant’ perspective that most shinobi have. “It took us forever to figure it out and it’s an absolute pain to do – it’s not just usual muscle or bone degradation, which is easy enough, but rather the ocular nerve itself that’s coming to pieces, and worst of all the chakra pathways around it are collapsing at the same time. The collapse of one feeds off the other…it’s complicated to explain. We basically have to reconstruct them both entirely from scratch each time, and trust me, you haven’t met stubborn until you’ve met a nerve cell that thinks it should be dead. That’s why it takes both of us, me providing the chakra and strength of will and Tobirama having the control and precision to operate at such a small level –”

And it usually takes Hashirama (guiltly) accessing Tobirama’s Rinnegan for an extra boost, too. Such a pain, and so easily avoided – it’s not like Tobirama uses his Mangekyo most of the time anyway, and never in battle, which means it should be easy for him to just stop –

“You’ll have your peace.”

Hashirama stares at Madara again. His heart starts beating very fast. “What?”

“You’ll have your peace,” Madara says again. “My clan has been trying to figure out a way to slow down, much less reverse, the degradation of the Mangekyo since forever – even if your version is only a start, even if it only works on him, our medics will still want to learn as much from it as possible. Even the most recalcitrant elder will trade peace for that possibility.”

“Are – are you serious? For healing, of all stupid things?”

“I’m very serious.”

“You’re not just lying to me so that I let you go without poisoning you, are you?”

Madara smacks him.

“Awww, Madara, you know I didn’t really mean it…”

“Go back to your clan, Hashirama,” Madara says, leaping to his feet. “I’ll go to mine. Give me – two weeks, let’s say, and send another offer for a peace conference at a neutral location. This time, we’ll come.”

Hashirama follows Madara’s example and springs to his feet. “I will,” he promises. “Two weeks!”