#Madara speaks of Izuna’s eyes and the Uchiha crest is behind him that is so emblematic

[cafeinthemoon]

Sideways (Tajima Uchiha x reader) - Chapter 1

Title: Sideways

Genre: Fanfiction

Pairing: Tajima Uchiha x reader

Rating: Teen | Up

Word count: 1134

Chapter: 1/?

Symbols: ⭕ | ➕ | 💛 | ▶

Warnings: angsty, physical fight, painful memories, mentions of serious injuries and blood

Summary: Life seemed to have no value during the Warring States Period, whether it was an adult’s or a child’s one. You, a respected doctor among the Uchiha clan, had your principles constantly challenged by the violent politics maintained by the elders with the consent of the current head, Tajima, a man who represented the exact opposite of what you defended - and the shadow of someone you once knew and loved.

Yep, nothing from Tajima on Tumblr. I MEAN HOW ?????

“How can you criticize

When you're not here to compromise?

Words fade as time goes by

Without you, without you “

(The Birthday Massacre, Sideways)

That task would be nothing but the same as all the previous ones that you performed if it wasn’t for this detail: your patient that time was the head’s eldest son, the little Madara Uchiha. And unlike the previous times when you were called by regular ninja to use your healing techniques, this time the boy’s father came in person to request your services.

Though you’ve had shinobi preparation since your youth, you were never seen so often at the battlefield alongside your Uchiha fellows: you were more of a doctor than a warrior, and your talents with healing and natural medicine were acknowledged by the whole clan, so that you would only fight when it was strictly necessary. You’ve saved countless lives with your abilities, and that was enough for you.

But there was something you just could not accept: the fact that children were still sent to fight the adult people’s battles, and now it seemed that their age has been decreasing. Knowing that the younger the child, the harder it was to save them was something that you never overcame, and sometimes you were too loud about it. This somehow contributed to your fame, and some people – elders specially – did not sympathize with you. Despite that, your work was essential to the existence of the clan, so no one had the audacity to lay their hands on you.

With Madara’s father, Tajima, things were even more complicated.

You were known to each other since you were little. You could say you were friends, as close as brothers, when you were children, but this feeling would turn into something deeper when you were teenagers. Since your parents were friends of each other, the idea of a marriage to unite both families didn’t sound strange to them; however, the circumstances separated your ways, and as you remained single and dedicated all your time to your work, Tajima married someone else, became the head of the Uchiha and fathered five children.

Knowing him as you did, you always carried some hope that things would be different from the moment he succeeded his father and the Uchiha – the adults and the children – would finally see good, pacific days with new politics and rules. But, again, destiny had other plans for you and your people: whether because he believed his predecessor’s ideals or because he hadn’t enough influence among the elders, Tajima chose to keep things as they were, and children were kept being sent to war, and with the constant conflicts with the Senju and other clans you seemed to work more than ever.

Those days the altercations with the Senju were causing you more damage than usual, and you’ve been occupied as you weren’t in months. You were also aware that Tajima’s kids – the ones who were left, Madara and Izuna – were fighting by his side, the example the other men needed to take their own kids with them.

That night you were trying not think of this and to concentrate in preserving your own chakra to use it in favor of the injured ones and to lead the group of medical shinobi that were there with you. However, all your efforts were thrown out of the window when someone came to your room.

You didn’t need to see the intruder’s face to know it was him. Just the way he arrived was enough to tell you: the fact that he didn’t mind knocking first, the loud, desperate steps, his heavy breath, a sign that something unexpected – and terrible – happened before his eyes.

You turned to him and need all your strength to not scream with what you saw.

The man you had there was the Tajima you knew, but somehow he looked like someone else. He seemed older than the last time you’ve met – well, he was older, just like you. There were some gray hair where once it was all black; on the tanned skin of his face, the sun seemed to have left deep marks, as he spent the last days under its light leading his people to war; the lines around his mouth and forehead, some inconvenient heirloom from his father, were now visible even in his blank face. Maybe his dark eyes, partially covered by his hair, were the only thing that remained unaltered, but you were afraid of looking into them for too long and find out that even them were no longer the same.

All of this was captured by your eyes in a blink, as a shadow of a thought instead of a conscious exam. And all were soon overshadowed by the shocking way in which Tajima appeared in front of you: his clothes, already dark, were soaked by something you knew it was blood, and so were his hands.

You didn’t need to hear his first words to see that the situation was urgent: the desperation was visible in his eyes, almost pushing you back to the chair from which you just stood up.

- What is it? – you required.

- It’s my son, Madara – the man replied, his voice disappearing between one sigh and another – He was severely injured! He needs your help, y/n-san! – he took an unconscious step toward you – Please… save him!

His words were loud and clear, but you acted as you didn’t understand them at first: you took a moment to take your equipment and follow him. It wasn’t that your feelings got in the way: to speak the truth, you didn’t feel anything at all when you heard them. Nor angry, nor fear, nor shock. Nothing. That man was just another person asking for help, and that boy was only one more victim that needed your services. Or this is what you kept telling yourself while you followed his father through the area of the compound destined to medical treatment of the soldiers.

You didn’t exchanged a word while you ran: it was a waste of time and energy. You had nothing to talk to each other. Not after all that time. Everything you had to say was already said, when he came to ask for your help and you accept it.

Tajima was just ahead of you. With good reasons, he was on a rush; if you slowed down just a little bit, he would leave you behind. He was at the same time near and far from you: at some moments, you were so close that you swore you could see blood staining the white in the Uchiha crest on his back or his hair growing on his nape, suggesting that he had no time to keep it shaved during that campaign; other times, he seemed to be nothing but a shadow in your way, one which you had to follow.

One from which you could not flee.

#naruto fanfiction #uchihas #tajima uchiha #tajima x reader #tajima uchiha x reader #uchiha reader #madara #warring states era

[kusunogatari]

[ Naruto OC x Canon Ship Week 2020 - In Love and War ] [ @naruto-ocxcanon-ship-week​ || @uchiha-madara​ ] [ Suigin Ryū, Uchiha Madara, Uchiha Izuna, Terumi Mei, Senju Tobirama ] [ Verse: To Rule Them All ] [ Trope: Arranged Marriage ]

Standing along the edge of her chamber balcony, a lone woman rests marless hands along its railing. From the lofty perch, she gazes down into the valley that twists and winds between snow-capped peaks. Moonlight paints the scene in soft greys and shadows.

She should be sleeping...but she can’t begin to find rest.

A soft sigh plumes in the chilled night air. Like the fog that often blankets her homeland, it drifts slowly, unhurriedly out from the cliffside castle. Carved from the very mountain face, it watches over the vale unblinkingly, waterfalls cascading out past its windows to join the river below.

The rumbling of the water is usually enough to lull her to sleep. But tonight, too much weighs on her mind.

Far, far too much.

Her eyes don’t see what lies before them, flickering in thought in their sockets. The eddying news and arising conflicts won’t stop flowing, keeping her conscious.

What should she do…?

It’s now more than ever she wishes for her mother’s guidance. Someone older, wiser, to help steer her in the right direction.

But she’s alone...and with war on the horizon, her kingdom surrounded on all sides.

Since the first recordings of history, they’ve remained detached from the other nations and their squabbles. With their world’s holy sites all contained within her borders, that influence of faith has allowed them to stand alone, untouched, for centuries. A careful balance maintained between the other lands to avoid overstepping and claiming too much influence over a place that - in truth - belongs to them all.

But now…? War once again threatens to rise. And the balance is crumbling. Rather than seeking to protect her lands, the others now seek to conquer it.

And without an army, a neutral place of peace...Ryū fears they will fall like wheat to a scythe. Unless the gods themselves intervene...they have no defense beyond the walls of the mountains. The chosen people of the valley do not fight. They’ve never had to.

To spill blood on the sacred land was to invite the wrath of the gods.

But that fear seems to be waning in the other nations. And their lack of restraint may be the end of the valley people chosen by the pantheon.

And she fears there is nothing she can do but pray.

Fingers curl against the railing, nails trying to dig into the stone and threatening to snap. Her people look to her for guidance: both a priestess and a queen. But now…? She feels utterly unprepared to lead them. Protect them. Without the perilous balance outside their borders...how can she keep war at bay?

Her head bows, heavy with every life depending on her. There has to be something she can do...something to stave off their slaughter.

...wait…

Like a beetle boring into wood, a thought worms its way into her mind. One that goes against centuries of tradition. At first, she flinches from it by reflex. And yet it lingers, tempting and luring.

...what if she were to tame one of the warhounds? Offer it what it wants...and in return, turn its teeth against the others? Marry a warlord...and position his army at their gates?

Never has her line tied itself to another. Never have they broken the careful neutrality maintained to ensure equality for the others in the eyes of the gods. If she does this...if she shows a bias to one land over the others...will it be enough to save them?

Or will it bring only ruin?

...what choice does she have?

To give another influence over her lands...is that the price she’s willing to pay to protect it? Are shackles preferable to gravestones?

In silence she weighs her odds...before turning to retreat inside.

She has letters to pen.

"My king!”

Gloved palms braced against the table that bears his maps, Madara turns at the voice of a messenger. “This best be important.”

“A message, my liege.”

“...from?”

“The priestess of the mountain valley.”

Immediately, dark brows furrow. What could she want with him? An expectant hand raises to accept the parchment, unfurling it and proceeding to read.

The further he goes, the more his face slackens.

Around him, everyone stills, awaiting his reaction.

“...prepare my horse.”

“Sire…?”

“I have a meeting to attend. Izuna!”

Stepping up beside his brother, the younger man replies, “Shall I hold the fort?”

“Yes. Await my orders. Until then...consider us at ease. But be ready at a moment’s notice.”

“Of course.” He eyes his brother thoughtfully. “...that must have been some letter.”

As he straps on his armor, a mischievous smirk curls Madara’s lips. “I may have just been handed victory on a silver platter.”

Izuna’s brows lift. “...that simply?”

“Oh, there will be obstacles. But none I cannot handle. Especially if it means avoiding this war altogether.”

“You? Eager to avoid bloodshed?”

“...as much as I enjoy the fire in my veins at a proper battle...I’m not so easily consumed as not to realize it costs the lives of my men. Besides...victory is what tastes sweetest. And one I can take single handedly will be ambrosia itself.”

“...then I wish you luck.”

“Luck will have nothing to do with it, brother. It’s all a matter of will.”

Watching Madara leave the chamber, Izuna folds his arms with a sigh. Curiosity burns at the letter’s contents, but he knows he’ll be made aware in due time. A meeting, and skipping a war…?

...that alone gives him some idea.

“...spread the word that our armies are to remain on alert. Until the king returns or sends word, we remain here at the ready.”

“Aye!”

Astride his Friesian, Madara wastes no time, digging heels to the beast’s sides and heading inland. Nor does he bother himself with escorts. They’ll only slow him down, and he wants to be prompt. The sooner he arrives, the sooner he’ll settle this matter himself.

So, the queen’s decided to take things into her own hands, has she? Allay war by holding a council that will serve in its stead. Let the kings, queens, and generals do the fighting themselves for once rather than hide behind their armies. Let one emerge a victor, claim the spoils...and put to rest this silly balancing act.

And Madara knows, in a contest of will and limits, none will stand in his way. The only thorn he can foresee is that bastard Tobirama now that Hashirama is gone. But he’ll handle that too when he must.

To lay claim to the holy lands of their continent will be to grip every heart that follows the gods. In his goals to make all equal and loyal to one ideal...such a position is paramount. No more wars. No more squabbling. He’ll make sure the lines drawn between men will finally fade into one unity.

No matter how far he must go.

Like any gods-fearing man, he’s made the pilgrimage himself more than once. The way is already familiar. But there’s still a moment taken upon cresting the lip of the valley to appreciate its majesty.

...it really is a beautiful place. No wonder the gods call it their cradle. In all his travels, he’s never seen a place more fitting for them to consider setting foot upon the soil. The thought of bringing war here is indeed distasteful.

No wonder she’s willing to bow her head to protect it.

Easily marked an outsider, he ignores the stares as he makes his way up to the castle. He understands and respects their suspicions. Besides, it won’t be long before he can put to rest their fears and earn their admiration. If he’s to be the first king of this reclusive land, he’ll do it the right way.

Presenting his letter, he allows his mount to be stabled as he’s led inside. The palace carved from the white stone of the cliff face has always impressed him, looking birthed from the mountain itself. With the forested lip crowning it and the waterfalls that curtain its face, it looks much like a fairy queen’s domain.

Speaking of which...he’s never individually spoken to the priestess queen of the valley. She who both rules and shepherds. Her sermons have always been impassioned, and he won’t deny her ethereal beauty: the ghostly-white countenance that’s said to be a mark of the gods’ blessings to her lineage. But until now, he’s had no reason to approach her directly. Almost like an idol herself, kept behind a wall no outsider could pass.

...but that’s all set to change.

To his annoyance, several of the other monarchs have already arrived. Though it can’t be helped, given proximities. The land of his people lies mostly along a coast compared to the valley at the heart of their landmass, pushed to the edges over time. They all give him the same sour, upturned-nose glances, clearly displeased at the presence of the warlord.

His reputation is no secret: willing to carve through anything to get what he wants. Spilling blood like others pour wine. Claimed to be a monster masquerading as human, more likely to kill a man than embrace him.

While his bloodlust is indeed true, born from a line used to fending for itself...he still remembers the talks of old with another princeling. Another soul that, in truth, wished for peace. While their methods were always different...Madara did - and still does - desire a stop to be brought to wars.

He’s just more willing to be...absolute.

But this might be just the break he’s looking for. A new angle to bring all men into line. Surely between the lady of faith and the lord of power, there will be little standing in their way of finally putting the marches of wars to rest.

...but first, he’ll have to take care of the competition.

“And here I thought this was to be a peace council. Yet here prowls the dog of war.”

Dark eyes sliding to their corners, Madara aloofly considers one of the other land’s queens: a woman of flaming hair and even more flaming temper. “Dog or not, I was beckoned just as you were. Any other judgments, I’m sure, will be made by our hostess. Until then, I’ve little need or want of yours.”

Arms tucked into voluminous sleeves, Mei considers him with equal parts disdain and intrigue. “And are the rest of us supposed to accept your presence without hesitation, pretending you’ve not wounded us in the past?”

“Any I’ve wounded have done so to me in turn. Perhaps not as successfully,” he adds with a smirk, earning a glower, “but don’t paint yourselves as guiltless martyrs. Any who spill blood are equally guilty. Lost life is lost life, no matter what banner or slogan you hide behind. I protect my people as you do yours.”

“And yet none will deny your barbarity. Not even you.”

“I’ll not bother to call a rose by any other name in an attempt to hide its thorns. But my brutality is necessary. Nothing more or less. It is only with teeth I can bite back choking fingers.”

“They’d not choke if you didn’t bite first.”

Immediately, a flare of temper seems to climb Madara’s spine like a flame along a trail of tinder. But he doesn’t reveal his hatred, only turning to Tobirama with a mock air of surprise. “I think by now there’s little point in which came first...only that it continues. And must end.”

“A continuation in which you are just as guilty,” the Senju retorts without pause.

“Well, perhaps a second opinion is just what we need, then. Let the true neutral decide what will become of us warmongering heathens. Don’t act as if you’ve never wielded a blade out of spite, Tobirama. In the eyes of the gods, we are all guilty.”

“And yet, some more than others. I look forward to them striking you down at last.”

“...we’ll see about that.”

“Your majesties…?”

At the timid cut-in, the regals turn to an attendant who wastes no time in bowing under their gazes. “The last of the expected parties have arrived, and...her holiness will see you now. Please, follow me.”

After no small number of distrustful glances, the gathered royals follow in the young woman’s wake. While the display of weakness irks Madara slightly, he also can’t blame her. Surely there’s been no assembly like this in their land before, nor for such a purpose. Being exposed to so much power at once must be quite the shock for any below their rank. Anyone in her shoes would be hard-pressed not to panic.

But in this land, all who serve their lady are absolute. Fear is nothing in the face of their devotion. While the priestess queen may serve the gods, it’s the people who in turn serve her. Long have rumors circulated of the valley people being so blindly loyal as to throw themselves on pikes for their monarch. She is the vessel through which the gods speak. To allow her to come to harm is to commit the ultimate blasphemy.

Already, he thinks of how this will be useful.

A short walk later, the lot of them are led into an expansive sitting room. “Her ladyship wishes for you all to remain here, and to attend an audience with her individually. Her impressions are to be unbiased by the others and their opinions, so...while any of you are within her chamber, the rest are kindly asked to wait patiently here.”

“Is this simply to be a contest of our most tactical liars, then?” Tobirama dares to ask, teeth gritting. “Are we not allowed to vet one another?”

“Within each of you is inherent bias depending on friends or foes,” the little servant in turn refutes, and Madara can’t help a lift of his brow as she stares the king down. “Her ladyship, in line with our lands, wishes to remain neutral. The gods will guide her. Mortal opinions can never be pure.”

The Senju’s lip lifts in a snarl, but before he can refute, Mei steps in. “Please tell your ladyship we will be patient and obliging. We all wish to avoid war. If this is what it takes, so be it. The rest of us won’t let temper lead us astray.”

For that, she’s given a venomous look...but other leaders murmur in agreement, and Tobirama begrudgingly concedes.

Wordlessly, the woman nods, and turns into another room.

“...best make yourselves comfortable,” Mei then sniffs, finding herself a perch as others do the same.

Always pleased to see the Senju put in his place, Madara offers a hint of an appreciative smirk in her direction, lounging in a plush chair tucked in a corner. An elbow rests on its arm, chin braced along his knuckles.

A few minutes later, one of the monarchs is asked inside.

And so it begins.

“Have you need of anything, my lady?”

Pouring herself a goblet of water, Ryū gives the attendant a glance, and then a smile. “For now, no - thank you, dear. Twice over for bringing the others here. I trust they were obliging…?”

The tick of hesitation is telling. “M...mostly, my lady.”

“Tell me no more. We’ll see how their conduct fares. You may go.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Left to her own devices for a moment, the priestess draws a long, calming breath. Time to see if her plan will bear fruit...and not the sort to poison the starving masses. Another handmaid tends to the door, calling in each of the other monarchs to stand their trials.

Her interviews are simple, yet extensive. All manner of aspects of their rule - their platoons, their policies, their positions and their people - are peered into with the highest scrutiny. And all throughout, Ryū places her trust in a sense that has never failed her. One she remains convinced comes from the insight of the gods.

Never has she been lied to and the falsehood gone unnoticed.

It’s a feeling that follows her always. And with varying intensity, it reveals to her just who is willing to be truthful...and who thinks it wise to lie to the mouthpiece of the gods. None of the remarks are challenged until each conversation is over, the priestess calmly laying out her accusations. All rebuke and fluster and give flashes of temper, but she cannot be convinced otherwise.

As each monarch reemerges with varying degrees of disgruntlement, the rest clearly become wary.

And she saves the best for last.

“King Madara, of the Uchiha.”

Realizing his position and having done his best to remain patient, the Uchiha takes to his feet and makes his way toward the side chamber. He’d suspected he’d be reserved for the tail end given his reputation, but it was worth seeing Tobirama come out with a clenched jaw and scarlet neck of temper.

Well worth it.

Approaching the door, he gives yet another mousey serf a glance. Does she employ no one but nervous handmaids? Putting the thought aside (it’s hardly of any use), he steps inside and gives the room a curious once-over.

It’s a simple study, lined with shelves of scrolls and tomes. At the rear is a stained glass window, out which he can see one of the falls. Behind a desk of solid wood sits his hostess, and another moment is taken to observe her.

Her dress, unlike that worn for her sermons, is simple: plain white fabric with light hints of gold embroidery. Prim and modest, she looks far more the role of a priestess than a queen. Likely intentional.

“Would you care for some water?”

“...I would,” he replies shortly, accepting a goblet she pours him. Once quenched, he offers, “I must admit, it’s been too long since I’ve visited the valley. I hope that bears no weight on my qualifications?”

“Your lands are far, and your people often troubled. I cannot fault you for remaining where you are needed most by those that follow you. Though they may reside here, the gods can hear us no matter how distant our call.”

“Hm…” He considers her thoughtfully. “...may I also be frank in my surprise at this...decision. But in the same breath, I’ll put forth I think it wise.”

A hint of surprise lifts her brows. “...do you?”

“Relying on the wills of others for your safety puts your fate in their hands. While the other nations were willing, for a time, to be considerate of you...it seems the time has come where they put their own interests over the gods.”

“...do you do the same?”

“I concern myself foremost with my people. Whatever I can do for them to better their lives, I will do. No questions asked. I am their sword, and their shield. For them I will weather any storm, and I will cut down any threat.” His chin declines. “...I know this land’s distaste for violence. But I won’t attempt to hide what I have done. The gods may choose to smite me for it, but I will not stand idle and allow my people to come to harm rather than take any measure to protect them. Until I come to my judgment day, it is my people I answer to. Not gods.”

To his honest surprise, her lips curl into a coy smile. “...I commend you for your honesty and your dedication,” she murmurs. “Many have attempted to conceal their actions, seeking to tilt my favor. But there’s no hiding truth from the gods.” A knee lifts to crest the other, the long skirt of her gown rustling quietly. “Do you recognize the weight of the lives you take to protect another?”

“Of course. Any other man breathes and dreams as those under my banner do. Any life lost - no matter what side of a line - is one that should be mourned. If I could snap my fingers and draw all under one crest so that such lines could not be crossed, no reason given to kill what could in fact be a brother because of one loyalty over another, then I would do so. But until then...I protect what is entrusted to me. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“And if those within the valley were to be taken under that banner?”

“Then they would receive every ounce of my dedication as those born beneath it. An alliance is a promise. And I keep my promises. So long as I drew breath, it would be drawn for them all.”

A long moment passes of her silent consideration before continuing with her interview. Further and further she needles him, digging into the psychology and methodology of his leadership. And at each inquiry, he answers honestly, bearing all and refusing to feel shame for it.

Not once does she feel him lie.

By now, the day has begun to slip into evening, and a small respite is taken to light the sconces in the study. “We’re nearly finished. A supper is being prepared for you all.”

“How long are we expected to remain? I have a standing army to return to.”

“A few days at best, if my expectations are met. While my impressions are mostly made and there’s likely little else to glean...I am not one to rush important decisions. But so too do I respect the time and obligations of you and the others. I beg your patience.”

“And you’ll have it. I’m simply curious. My brother maintains the ranks in my stead, and I trust his judgment.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“...I once had four,” Madara eventually replies after a small pause. “But life is brutal, and war the paramount. Now...we are the two left of five. He is my right hand. I rely on him heavily.”

“I see…” Ryū lets her chin rest in a hand. “I’m without siblings. My father is unknown to me, my mother long dead. While I consider every person within my lands to be my family, my flock...I realize it is not the same. I envy you, in a way.”

“I’m sure he would be delighted to have a sister.”

The rather obvious nudge snaps her eyes to him, expression unreadable. “...I have one last question for you.”

“And I will do my best to answer.”

Silvers stare at him, unblinking. “...my intentions, I’m sure, are plain. To resist destruction by a flood of new war, I intend to ally myself with one of the other nations. That alliance will grant me an army, and hopefully give pause to the others before they consider bringing battles here. However...I know that, beyond my lands, the webs of friends and foes are complicated, and ever-changing. Depending on my choice, prior brothers in arms may be forced to become enemies. So my question is this: have you any reason - any at all - to possibly falter should this position become yours? Would you ever hesitate in raising your swords and your shields to defend this valley, and the people in it?”

“No.”

The blunt reply earns a blink, especially as no hint of a lie bleeds through his tone. “...just that easily?”

“Just that easily.” Shifting his posture, Madara leans inward, expression completely unwavering. “My people have been betrayed more times than I could count. We’ve not held an alliance since I was a boy...perhaps even longer. For generations we have been marked as nothing more than war-hungry dogs. And while we will never back down from a fight...it is not what we want. We fight for one reason only: necessity. Survival. The world has turned its back on us, declared us untrustworthy and forever drunk on blood. So perhaps that is something you should consider, priestess.”

Watching him warily, Ryū nonetheless holds her ground as he approaches, shrinking the gap between them to a breath.

“...is this what you want to anchor in your harbor? A man called a monster, a killer? Someone willing to go to any length, no matter what ire it will earn him?”

“...that’s precisely what I want.”

...it’s his turn to be taken aback.

She stares up at him, just as calm. “...I am all out of options, Madara,” she murmurs, dropping all other pretense. “My people face annihilation. We are sheep circled on all sides by wolves. Which is why I don’t want just a wolf. I want someone with nothing to lose. Because that is exactly what I have become. I want someone who, when the inevitable comes, will fight with no holds barred. Someone the other wolves fear. Because that fear will be what keeps us safe until the swords swing.”

Eyes flickering over her face, he lingers a long moment before conceding back to his seat. “...I see. Surely you already knew, then, what you were really looking for. These interviews weren’t to find who you wanted...but to gauge the standings of what will be left.”

She gives a grave nod. “To know who will be possible allies, who can be swayed...and who will see my declaration as one of war.”

“I’ve already a fair idea of those,” he assures her.

“I did not...but now I do. Which leaves only one last formality.” Reclining in her seat, Ryū crosses a knee, hands folding atop her lap. “...will you accept my proposal of an arranged marriage, Madara of the Uchiha? And with it, accept the position of army general, and the duty of protecting my people, my lands, and the cradle of the gods?”

“Is ‘king’ not one of my titles?”

“You are the king of your people. I am the queen of mine. I am unsure how either will view the other. And we have never had a king before.” Her lips flicker into a smile. “...both sides will surely need to do their own...adjusting. You will have every right and privilege that comes with a marriage to my line. Just, I’m sure, as I will inherit those of one to yours.”

...she’s avoiding the answer directly, he muses, considering her carefully. She doesn’t want foreign influence over her people...I can understand. Especially given the vast cultural differences. Surely such details will be determinable later. For now...best we settle the basics. I can whittle at the rest as we go. Leaning back with a sigh, he replies, “...then yes. I accept.”

“...good. We can discuss the rest tomorrow. For now...we have a dinner to attend.”

“Nothing works up an appetite like politics.”

     All righty, day three! And I'm officially out of buffered posts :'D BUT I'm determined to do more, so hopefully I'll have some time between now and...tomorrow to get something else done.      But for now, THIS post! So this is for Phoenix, the mun behind @uchiha-madara​, and is our ship between her Madara and my OC Ryū. We've had a verse with her in the founders era and a concept...somewhat similar to this? But this setting is a bit different, and with far different context, so...hopefully it was still interesting to read xD I haven't gotten to write this verse much yet so a lot of it was experimental. But overall I really like how it turned out, and hopefully Phoenix does too!      I love the dynamic between these two...there's almost always drama and tension and hhhhh I live for it xD      Anyway, I've got irl things to handle now, so I best skedaddle. But I'll do my best to be back tomorrow with another piece for another ship! Until then, thanks for reading!

#narutoocxcanonshipweek #noxcsw #uchihamadara #suigin ryū #uchiha madara #uchiha izuna #terumi mei #senju tobirama #to rule them all [ au ] #arranged marriage

[raendown]

Here we have it folks, the very last chapter of what began as a simple Secret Santa gift for @sealkay. Thanks to everyone who left such wonderful comments all the way through!

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Chapter: 18/18 Word count: 2844 Summary: When Tobirama is exiled from the Senju clan without warning, without even the chance to plead his case, it feels like his life is over. What does he have to live for now without his older brother to believe in him? Captured by the Uchiha in his moment of weakness, Tobirama slowly learns to live again with the last people on earth he would have ever expected to care for - or to fall in love with.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the blog header!

Chapter 18

“Wakey, wakey, sleepy head. You look stupid with your hair sticking up like that.”

Tobirama frowned through the lingering haze of sleep. He knew that voice. That was the beloved voice of an annoying asshole. Cracking one eye open, he tilted his head down to glare at the face grinning up at him from below. Madara snickered and Tobirama noted that he looked much too awake for – well, for whatever time of the morning it was. Odd for a man who usually stayed in bed until he was physically dragged out of it.

“How do you always have worse bedhead than me?” Madara asked. “You hardly have any hair to mess up.” He lay his head down to muffle a few quiet chuckles against the chest he’d been using as a pillow and the sound was so joyful that Tobirama found he just couldn’t stay mad when he got to wake up to such sweet things as a happy Madara. Not that he would ever say so while the man was still laughing in his face.

“Rude,” he grumbled with a pout. “At least I don’t have an entire rat’s nest on top of my head twenty-four-seven. Get off me so I can get up, you octopus.” Instead of contrition, Madara’s face took on a suggestive look.

“Why get up? I’m sure I can think of something that might entice you to stay in bed a little longer.” With a raunchy leer he shifted until he had one leg thrown over Tobirama’s hips to perch above his lap, eyebrows waggling in way that was probably meant to be sexy but really only made Tobirama bite his lip to hide a rush of amusement at such a ridiculous expression.

He did find himself interested in what the man was offering, though.

Running his hands up the outside of the thighs straddling his own, he hummed with rising interest and tilted his head like he was giving the matter deep thought. “You know what? Keep talking. You’ve caught my attention.”

Madara gave a low, dark chuckle and bent down to kiss him. Their lips had only just touched and Tobirama’s fingers ventured further inward to cup two handfuls of firm buttocks when the bedroom door slammed open without warning, Izuna strolling in unannounced.

“The hanky-panky can stop!” he cried. “I made breakfast so now you have to eat it!”

“Get out!” Madara snarled. The pillow he snatched up and threw was easily blocked and thrown back at him without mercy.

“Nope! Breakfast! No sexy times while I’m still home; that’s just gross to think about.” Izuna grinned, not even having the decency to wither under the combined weight of their annoyed glares. Tobirama cleared his throat to catch the other’s attention. After a year of living together he would be supremely unimpressed with himself if he didn’t have a perfect comeback for that.

“What makes you assume we haven’t already done those things while you were still home?” he asked innocently.

Izuna’s disgusted screeching was almost worth the interruption. Madara, at least, was laughing so hard he almost couldn’t stand to make it back to his own room so he could grab some clean clothes for the day. After Tobirama had wrestled Izuna out in to the hall as well and slammed the door shut for a bit of privacy, he started getting changed himself. It was little surprise to be interrupted yet again before he’d done more than pull on a clean pair of pants but at least this time it was only Madara letting himself back in to the room.

His partner was wearing a sheepish look that quickly turned to hunger at the sight of so much exposed skin. Tobirama smirked and simply let him look. Regular exercise had replaced all the muscle he’d once let melt away in his hour of weakness and it was always nice to have such accomplishments admired. He was still preening when Madara cleared his throat and came forward to tug the shirt he was holding out of his hands and set it aside, his ears pink and his expression oddly nervous.

“I have something for you,” he said. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to. I wanted to get them all done at the same time but I didn’t want to presume…”

“What is it?” Tobirama blinked in surprise when Madara revealed something from behind his back. It just looked like a lump of material until it was unfolded to become a short tunic in his favorite shade of blue. Then Madara turned it around to reveal the Uchiha crest carefully stitched on the back just like every piece of clothing a proper member of the clan wore every day. Tobirama’s fingers trembled as he reached out to accept the shirt being handed to him. Once his hands were free Madara rubbed his palms together awkwardly, not looking away from his unexpected offering.

“Don’t just wear it because you think you have to, okay? You know you can stay here even if you never decide to officially adopt in to the clan. O-or marry in or whatever. I just wanted you to know that the offer is there and I already have the approval of the rest of them – we had a clan meeting while you were away on a mission–”

“Madara,” Tobirama cut him off shakily. “I don’t want to misunderstand what you’re saying. Are you asking me to wear your colors or…?”

Shaking his head, Madara straightened his back and visibly braced himself to speak. “Whether you choose to take the Senju name again or not, there will always be a place for you here. As of this moment you bear no clan name and, maybe it’s selfish of me, maybe a little territorial, but I would like to gift you mine to carry. Whatever your answer, as clan Head I hereby grant you the right to wear our crest to show the world that we consider you one of our own – uh, if you want, that is.”

Finding it suddenly very difficult to breathe, Tobirama clenched his fingers tightly in the material of the shirt and blinked his eyes rapidly to clear away the strange mist in his vision. What Madara was offering him was more than just a home. He didn’t have the words to describe just what he was being offered but what touched him the most was being given the choice and being assured that Madara would not resent him for whatever path he decided to take.

It took a few tries to clear his throat before he realized it wouldn’t work, he was simply too overwhelmed at the moment. Shyly, embarrassed to show such blatant emotions even if this was by its very nature an emotional moment, Tobirama shifted closer and drew Madara in to his arms. The two of them stood in a silent embrace for a long time while they both waited for themselves to calm down. Tobirama clung to his partner with one hand and let the other rub the material of this most precious gift between his fingers, feeling the soft cotton like a gentle kiss against his sensitive skin. He wondered how long Madara had been planning this for.

“Are you two coming to eat this damn food or not!?” Izuna hollered from the kitchen. The indignation in his voice had Tobirama pulling away with a snort, smiling when he noticed Madara trying to wipe his eyes discreetly.

“We’re coming, don’t get your panties in a bunch,” he called back. Then he ignored Izuna’s retort in favor of dipping his head to press a messy kiss against Madara’s lips. “Hold this for me, will you?”

He handed the shirt back to Madara to hold so he could slip his arms in to it, humming pleasantly over how nicely it fit. It was obvious that this had been tailored specifically for him; if the cut of it and the lack of traditional high collar wasn’t enough of a clue, he didn’t know any Uchiha who wore such bright colors. Most of them preferred their clothing in black or deep shades of purple.

“Does that mean…?” Madara eyed him as he tied the shirt in place and Tobirama flushed, standing still so that could be admired in his new clothing.

“You mentioned you wanted to have my entire wardrobe updated. I would honored.”

“But are you just carrying the crest or…”

“Uchiha Tobirama does have a certain amount of appeal,” he murmured. “If you think it would suit me then I will do my best to uphold the honor of the Uchiha name.”

Madara pressed his lips together, nodded, and lunged forward to drag Tobirama in to him again.

From the kitchen they could hear Izuna yelling, “Fine! Watch me eat all these damn eggs myself! You guys don’t get any now! I slave and slave over a hot stove and what do I get? Ignored!”

“Should we go tell him the news?” Tobirama murmured, glad for something to focus on other than his thundering heart.

“Maybe he’ll change his mind about the eggs,” Madara said, holding in a hysterical giggle.

Tobirama bit his lip and distracted himself with making sure his shirt was settled perfectly, smoothing out a few imaginary wrinkles. He knew that as soon as he had an entire closet full of things with his new clan symbol on them he would feel comfortable being less careful with them but for now this shirt was his most prized possession.

As it turned out, Izuna did indeed lift his ban on eggs in celebration of a new member joining the Uchiha clan. The three of them ate their breakfast with smiles on their faces and then afterwards they headed out together towards the village center where the polls were to be held to vote for the very first Hokage of Konohagakure. Whoever led their village needed to be strong, intelligent, and a good leader, caring for his people yet willing to make the tough decisions. There were only two names on the ballots though and from what Tobirama heard from others the race was pretty much over before it had even begun. Most people seemed to be under the misguided impression that the village existed thanks to Hashirama alone. Considering that, it was no wonder most favored him and his big dreams to lead them all towards a new future.

That didn’t stop Madara from coming out and enjoying the excitement of the day anyway. He didn’t particularly want the job, although he did think he would have been good at it. If popular vote went to Hashirama as seemed likely then he would still have everything he had ever dreamed of having in his life. Tobirama was sort of proud of him for being so self-assured.

Walking through the village in daylight was interesting and more than just because it finally gave Tobirama a chance to properly see all the places outside their compound he hadn’t yet seen in daylight. Someone with an active gossip chain must have spotted him the night before because none of the people stopping to gape at him as he walked by looked truly surprised. All of them had the same look of someone confirming a rumor they hadn’t fully believed until the proof dared to stroll by with his head held proudly and a carefree lightness in his every step. By the time they reached the village square the crowds were all but parting before them as people stepped aside for Tobirama and broke out in to whispers in his wake.

Hashirama met them with a brilliant smile and dozens of curious Senju at his back. An uproar nearly broke out when the first of them spotted the Uchiha fan so prominently displayed between Tobirama’s shoulder blades but Hashirama only gave the crest a long, sober look, closing his eyes and nodding once.

“I understand,” he murmured.

“The decision was not made to reject what I once had,” Tobirama leaned in to assure him quietly, “but to celebrate and honor all that I have been freely given since.”

“No, I mean it. I understand. What I said last night, I meant that with all my heart. I’m just happy that you’re happy now.” Hashirama reached out to take hold of his hand for a brief squeeze and they shared a smile knowing that every eye in the village was watching them. Then they let go and Tobirama stepped back in to the circle of Madara’s arms. Just this once he would allow such an ostentatious display of public affection as cuddling, marking his territory without having to say a word.

He took note of Touka’s expression as she slipped up beside them, lips pinched tightly and dark eyes unhappy as she took in the way they were wrapped around each other, but Tobirama was pleased when she did little more than settle herself close enough to his side that their arms brushed together and caught his eye for a long wordless stare. In a clan of people who had very little problems expressing themselves, he and Touka had always been outliers. She was probably worse than him when it came emotions but they had always understood each other even when no one else did. By the time she took a deep breath and struck up a deliberately casual conversation about something random they had already held an entire silent conversation and Tobirama knew the two of them were going to fall back in to old habits just fine.

As soon as the crowds around them settled down in to gossiping amongst themselves Hashirama and the other clan heads announced the official opening of the polls. Several booths had been set up for each villager to go in and fill out their ballot anonymously without fear of being judged for their decision, Madara and Hashirama standing together to one side in abstention.

Tobirama waited in line with Izuna and Touka, occasionally wrangling an enthusiastic Kagami when his protégé-slash-neighbor got a bit too enthusiastic for his mother to handle. It felt odd being allowed to cast a vote when he hadn’t even been an official member of the Konoha until this morning and it felt even stranger, when it was his turn in the booth, realizing he had to choose between his no-longer-estranged brother and his captor-turned-boyfriend. Knowing who was inside, he could hear several members of his new clan shooing people away outside when they murmured about him taking too long. In the end he slid his ballot in to the box without checking a name. Just the idea of making an impartial decision had always been difficult; in his current circumstances it seemed impossible.

When he told Hashirama what he had done he was surprised to receive a beaming smile in return.

“Excellent! Then you’re completely neutral and you can be the one that counts the ballots! It’s kind of poetic in a way, don’t you think?” His smile softened and Tobirama rolled his eyes but he could see where the man was coming from.

He wasn’t the only one counting ballots, of course. The polls were opened in the early morning but it took well in to evening for all the votes to be cast and tallied by a group of volunteers who had also abstained from voting. Each of them brought their numbers to Tobirama who added them all together and then stepped up on to the raised wooden dais where Hashirama and Madara were waiting, idly passing the time with friendly chatter.

Unsurprisingly, the crowds fell silent at seeing him step up between the two men with a small card folded between his hands and no discernable expression on his face. He felt as if the world was watching him as he looked from Madara to Hashirama and back again and then down at the card in his hands to allow himself the tiniest of smiles.

Then he lifted the red and white hat that had been prepared as a badge of office and laid it gently atop Madara’s head.

“Congratulations, Hokage-sama,” he announced in a clear voice.

As the village erupted and even Hashirama broke out in to wild cheering, Tobirama held his stunned partner’s eyes just long enough to appreciate how ridiculous he looked with such a shocked expression. Then he tossed his head back and laughed long and hard and joyful, free and happy.

When he had been asked to leave the Senju clan it had felt like his life was over, a dark emptiness that could never be filled. He had thought it was the end of his journey. Now he stood between his two most precious people with the future stretching out before them filled with so many possibilities for everyone, for the village, for everything he held dear. This wasn’t at all where he had thought his life would take him – but he was happy that he stuck around to enjoy the ride.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #izuna #hashirama #touka #fanfiction #can't believe it's over

[cafeinthemoon]

The Leaves of Her Garden - Chapter XIV

Title: The Leaves of Her Garden

Genre: Fanfiction

Pairing: Madara Uchiha x reader

Rating: Mature

Word count: 2514

Chapter (s): 14/?

Read the previous chapters here: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Interlude, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13

Symbols: ⭕ | ➕ | 🖤 | ▶▶

Chapter XIV - Ninjutsu

The moment of the Todoroki’s farewell finally came.

You didn’t know if it was because you were becoming used to your role as Sachiko Uchiha or if it was the thought of seeing the Todoroki leaving, but you felt that playing your part during their farewell was easier than during the wedding.

Your feet didn’t fail you when you walked toward them by Madara’s side, nor your hand trembled when you offered it to Koji Todoroki, their head and Sachiko’s father, who accepted your gesture with visible contentment, wrinkles forming around his brown eyes alongside the composed smile he gave you and your husband: it was clear how much satisfied he was to see things going according to his plans. It was almost risible when you remembered that this man were genuinely convinced that you were his beloved daughter and that you were the key to the Uchiha’s favor. You felt tempted to glance at Madara, to see his expression as he looked at the man, but you contained yourself: everything was almost over now; you couldn’t take the risk of messing up with everything.

Only when Koji released your hand and stepped back to his previous spot alongside the elders of his clan (all of them his uncles, as Madara told you), to a position where you could analyze his figure in precious details, you started to understand your feelings about him.

That man, not so far from his sixties, would never seem so impressive if you saw him in common clothing and all alone; nothing about him – his average height, his grayish hair tied down with a red stripe falling over his back and his simple wood sandals, not so different from the ones worn by the other Todoroki – was worthy of catching one’s particular attention. He was not distinguishable like Madara: his resemblance with the other members of his clans, not all of them as important as the elders, was such that he could be taken as any other person but their leader. His expression while observing everything around him corroborated with that impression: a discreet but perceptible smile, followed by a muffle sound in his throat that reminded you of a giggle and a nod of his head had some soothing effect over his appearance. If it wasn’t for your current situation, you would have sympathized with him.

Yet there was one thing in him that could tell you that he was not a simple man, and it was his eyes. Brown, small and perspicacious eyes, as the ones of a collector of rarities or a seller, always measuring the value of everything, seeking for benefits and good opportunities. The first time you looked into them during the wedding, all the illusion about his simple nature was gone and could not be brought back, and the same happened to you during the farewell. You finally were able to understand what Madara was talking about when he stated that this man’s clan were not to be taken lightly: if that was your impression of their head, you didn’t want to imagine what you should expect from the elders, more experienced – and unscrupulous – than him. You felt lucky that you didn’t have to speak directly at them during the lunch, moments before.

Now, you were glad that you would not get to see them in a long time.

When all the formalities were exchanged, Madara gave the sign and some of the Uchiha men near your post passed to the other clan’s side. They were the men chosen to guard the Todoroki entourage on their way home. Izuna, who was at his brother’s side and remained quiet until that moment, gave them some instructions and wished them good luck on their mission. They nodded, and finally the whole group turned and started to walk toward the road, guided by the Uchiha guards.

When the they disappeared at the distance, a general sensation of safety seemed to spread among the people who came to the farewell. Some of them started to walk back to the compound’s interiors, to their own activities; the remaining ones formed smaller groups between themselves and you heard whispers coming and going through your ears, but you were too focused on your own state to understand what they were saying.

When you were no longer capable of distinguish the presence of the group at the road, you took a breath of relief, but you didn’t realize it until you heard a muffled laugh near you. You looked at your right and found Izuna staring at you, the same strange expression you used to identify in his dark eyes, something between hilarity and seriousness that always unsettled you, so that you didn’t know if he liked or despised you.

And to think that he was nothing like this just a moment ago, when speaking to his pairs who were to guard the Todoroki during their travel. You could say anything you wanted about Izuna, but you should recognize his talent as an actor.

- Among all of us, our Sachiko girl is the one who best played her part, but it seems that this wore her out – he commented, crossing his arms – I understand. Fathers can be scary when they want to. And that one in particular – he glanced at the road’s direction – He gives me the creeps.

Your eyes widened a bit when you heard those words. You immediately looked at Madara, eager to find out his reaction and act according to it: after the things he showed to you through his dojutsu, it was the appropriate thing to do. But he didn’t do more than stare at his brother in silence and ignore him right after.

Izuna didn’t seem intimidated by this, nor his smile faded; was it possible that he had a different perception of those events than Madara? You didn’t have much time to think about it, because soon he got back to his serious manners and changed the subject as if nothing happened.

- Anija, I’m going to take care of that work. The sooner we get ready, the better.

- Go, but be careful to do it exactly as I told you.

You sensed no trace of exasperation in your husband’s tone when he replied. Maybe he was used to Izuna’s way of expressing himself.

The younger Uchiha nodded and left without any more words for you or his brother. You observed while he walked away, his tied, black hair covering the center of the clan’s crest on the back of his clothing.

- Y/n.

You startled a bit when you heard Madara calling you by your true name in the presence of other people, but then remembered that most of the presents knew about it. You turned to him.

- Is there something wrong?

- No, absolutely – he smiled – But you seem a little worried.

You couldn’t help trying to explain yourself.

- It’s nothing serious. It’s just that I…

Still smiling, he nodded, as if you just confirmed his theory.

- You aren’t sure about my brother’s feelings towards you – before you could reply, you felt his fingers brushing your hair behind your ear – Do not worry. Despite his manners, which are more likely to mess with one’s perception when they are not familiar to him, Izuna likes you. I haven’t had an opportunity to tell it to you but now, but it is true.

You blushed, but didn’t reply. Hearing this from Madara’s mouth was somehow comforting: since you first met Izuna, you felt like the young man had nothing for you except despise.

- Right after he brought you, he came to speak to me about you – he continued – Not only he described your resemblance with the other girl, but he also explained the conditions in which he found you, pointing out that you must have had an exceptional physical resistance for someone who is not a shinobi to not succumb during the travel to our compound. When I heard what he said, I immediately became interested. It was too good to be true, or so I believed until I have put my eyes on you.

You suddenly remembered your first night at that room you were left to rest, the darkness that surrounded you and that corner where you saw the pair of red eyes. The next morning you tried to talk to Izuna about it, but he didn’t want to hear you. Now, the last thing you’d expect was to hear Madara himself bring the case to light, but there you were, hearing him explain how he entered your room and stood there, analyzing you with his Sharingan.

- I must tell you that I was impressed to see Izuna’s hypothesis confirmed – he smiled as if he just read your thoughts – You were weak and injured, and your body was exhausted, that is true, but you would survive and recover, and then would be ready to play your part. Later, not only you were capable of running into a physical conflict and stay on your feet, but you also did well during our training. I mentioned this in one of the messages I sent to my brother while he was away, and he made his good opinion on you very clear in his reply.

You looked ahead, at the same direction Izuna took when he left, and a changed occurred in your opinion of him as well. The anxiety you used to feel every time you were in his presence or thought about him was now slowly disappearing. Since he brought you there, Izuna had a way to make you feel like you’d never be a part of his family, of his clan, but knowing his true thoughts on you soothed your worries. Maybe one day you would see him as your brother too.

Madara’s words about your resilience also reminded you of something you’ve been considering since he told you he was going to leave the compound in a few days.

You turned to him looking for the right words, but it seemed that he was already expecting for that.

- You want to ask me something, y/n? – and caressing your cheek – You do not need to think much about it, then. Just speak.

- Well, first I wanted to know how much time you will… how much time we have together before you leave.

He thought of it for a moment.

- One week. Not much more than this. Why do you ask?

- I’ve been thinking of it since you mentioned your travel – you took his hand on yours; somehow the gesture helped you to find your words – It’s not that I find any flaws in your measures to keep us safe while you’re away, but… I want to take my own measures to take care of myself, and I thought that you could help me in this.

Madara’s smile widened when he heard that, so pleased he was with it.

- I see. You want me to train you during this period, but you are not sure if one week is enough for you to learn something useful in case you have to defend yourself or the people around you.

You nodded, but there was more, and your face burned when you explained it to him.

- To speak the truth, I want to know if in one week I would be able to learn… ninjutsu – you you gave his hands a soft squeeze, feeling the obligation of justifying yourself for asking something that he could see as absurd – It does not need to be something complicated, it could be just enough for me to protect myself and avoid a physical confrontation, which would be more dangerous.

Madara didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he analyzed your words for a moment, then took his hands off yours and passed his arm around your waist.

- There are still many people here, though you could think there are not – he whispered – Let me take you to a calmer place where we can talk properly.

In fact, there were less people around now and you wouldn’t mind talking in their presence, but he seemed worried about that. You chose to think that he, who knew those people for longer than you, was more prepared to decide what was best to say in front of them or not, so you just let him lead you to wherever he wanted to take you.

***

You didn’t go back to the house nor to any strange place. In a moment, with the same technique he preformed to take you to your room after that morning when you were training your body memory, Madara reached the garden with you. You started to think that this place in particular was surrounded by some sort of protection he created with his shinobi abilities, for he implied that you were safe once you were there with him.

You considered questioning him about it, but somehow you thought that this was a subject for another day.

When you look into his eyes after the arrival, you saw a distinct gleam in them, followed by a smile you understood he was containing until that moment. Was he satisfied with your request, or was he mocking you?

He answered your question as if he heard you formulating it.

- So… You want to learn how to dance, y/n? I was waiting for the moment you were going to ask me something like this – you felt his fingers giving a subtle squeeze on your waist, your skin warming up under his touch even with your clothes being there to separate them – However, you surprised me with your interest in ninjutsu. That surpassed my expectations.

You were still a little nervous, though.

- And is it a bad thing? – you’ve put your hands over his shoulders – I wasn’t lying when I told you I just want to protect mys…

His giggle interrupted you.

- I know. And I approve your request. However...

The giggle slowly turned into silence. Then he spoke, low and serious as you still haven’t seen him.

- I want to hear your reasons for it. They will determine my answer.

You frowned.

- But I already told you…

Madara raised his finger and placed it over your lips.

- I know that there are more behind this, y/n, and you cannot hide it from me. Or why do you think I brought you to this isolated place to have this conversation?

You held your breath. After all you’ve seen from Madara Uchiha since you’ve met him, you should have expected something like this: nothing was ever simple with him.

You sensed his approaching, but did not try to pull away. He continued to speak in whispers in your ear.

- You understand that I could simply use my Mangekyo Sharingan to search through your mind and find the answer. But I do not want to act like this. I want to have a normal conversation with you, girl. I want to hear the story from you.

#naruto fanfiction #madara #madara fanfiction #madara x reader

[raendown]

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Chapter: 9/18 Word count: 1983 Summary: When Tobirama is exiled from the Senju clan without warning, without even the chance to plead his case, it feels like his life is over. What does he have to live for now without his older brother to believe in him? Captured by the Uchiha in his moment of weakness, Tobirama slowly learns to live again with the last people on earth he would have ever expected to care for - or to fall in love with.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the blog header!

Chapter 9

Having never had it taken away from him in such a significant way until he was a fully grown adult, Tobirama never realized that freedom had its own disadvantages. Now he found himself standing at the gates of the Uchiha compound with his arms crossed tightly against his chest and all too aware that he wouldn’t be half as torn as he was at the moment if he didn’t have the power to do something about it. Watching Madara and Izuna’s backs as they disappeared in to the trees wasn’t the hard part; the hard part was knowing who they had been called in to battle with.

Knowing it was the Senju advancing against their eastern border left him off-balance, unsure of how to feel. It was they who had cast him out after a lifetime of love and devoted service. Should he turn his back and hate them now, stop caring for their lives simply because they had stopped caring for his? Logic told him he should be allowed to do just that.

And yet…

The very thought of Hashirama getting wounded still broke a part of him he had thought couldn’t break anymore. Thinking about any of his second and third cousins perishing in battle, about Touka giving her life in protection of the clan she loved so deeply, he couldn’t deny that he still cared for them all. No matter that he wished he didn’t, he would probably still care for them even if they had chosen to run a blade across his throat as he had once begged Madara to do. It wasn’t as if he could simply turn off his heart whenever it pleased him.

Should he have tried to stop the brothers from going, then? Asked them not to face the Senju in battle? Without Madara and Izuna on the field the Uchiha would drop like flies. There was no one else who could hope to face Hashirama and survive but how many Senju lives would be traded for how many Uchiha if they did or didn’t go? It was like an impossible math equation with no right answer and Tobirama had always hated questions that had no answers.

He almost felt like he should be there himself except he wasn’t at all sure what he would end up doing. Could he face his own brother in battle? Or his cousin? Yet to not take action would be just as terrible. To stand to one side and watch someone he cared for cut down someone else he cared for, no matter what crest they wore on their armor, he wouldn’t survive it.

Conflict raged back and forth inside him for hours until finally Madara and Izuna returned with the rest, dirty and tired, some of them bearing injuries but with no fewer clansmen than when they left. Tobirama didn’t stop to think. The two brothers had barely set foot in the house they all shared when he crashed in to them and pulled Madara in to his arms, holding on more tightly than he could ever remember doing in his life. His breath hitched when Madara gripped him back just as tightly.

“Are they–?”

“No deaths on either side,” the other murmured in his ear. He felt suddenly weightless without the leaden feeling that had been pulling at his stomach the whole damn day.

“Thank you. I’m sorry. Thank you.” A quiet noise of confusion escaped him but he leaned back gratefully for a moment when Izuna joined their embrace as well from behind, sandwiching him in the middle. It was hard to tell what he was supposed to be feeling in this moment but all he could focus on was how grateful he was that everyone was alive and well.

Madara pressed his forehead in to Tobirama’s hair, speaking very quietly. “Don’t ever apologize. Everything’s alright, Tobirama. We’re fine; they’re fine; no one got seriously injured.”

“I shouldn’t care.”

“Should or shouldn’t, you do. And that’s not something you need to apologize for.”

“Take him to sit down or something,” Izuna said, breaking away. “I’ll bring a pot of tea.”

Madara led him to the couch and tried to make him sit down but Tobirama insisted on helping him out of his armor first. When Izuna returned they both helped him as well to unstrap the minimal plate armor typical of Uchiha battle garb. Tobirama fretted internally over how they were leaving themselves too exposed and started planning arguments in his head for how he could convince them to wear something more protective until he was dragged down on to the couch at last and pressed firmly in between his two companions.

“How is this the first time that it’s hitting me?” Tobirama grumbled. Some genius he was letting his mind forget about something so big as the fact that his new benefactors were still at war with his old family.

“The Senju have been strangely quiet for a while now,” Madara told him slowly. “I think this is the first time we’ve faced them on such a large scale since we took you out of the dark. Until now it’s been mostly border skirmishes and chance meetings in other territories but no big clashes.”

“Quiet isn’t really how I would put it though,” Izuna chipped in. Madara nodded.

“I guess, yeah. They’ve been sighted absolutely everywhere but they’re not picking any fights. It’s eerie.”

Tobirama frowned and turned that over in his mind, looking at the information from all angles. It felt as though it should have been significant somehow but without any other information he was at a loss for how to interpret it properly.

After sipping his way through several cups of tea he settled down against Madara’s side in a mirror of how the older man usually treated him like a human sized pillow. He squirmed deeper in to the arm that wrapped around his back and closed his eyes to revel in the feeling of having precious ones close, appreciating it like he hadn’t before. Not all of the people he still considered precious were here but they were all confirmed as alive and for now that was enough. He trusted Madara not to have lied about that.

“Look at you cuddling,” Izuna teased, pushing on his arm to press him deeper in to Madara’s embrace. Tobirama huffed.

“I can cuddle if I want to.”

“Yeah, no one but Mads though. Unless you want to come over here and put your head in my lap?”

“Don’t be disgusting.” Turning his face in to the chest holding him up, he hoped the tips of his ears weren’t turning pink.

Although he would have to admit that Izuna was a little bit right. He did have a preference for Madara’s affection over anyone else but really his social circle wasn’t exactly large among the Uchiha yet so he figured it didn’t say all that much. Of the several who were friendly with him now he was still only quite close to these two and some of the children who had been shyly requesting his tutelage lately.

Tobirama stayed in his curled position for so long he had begun slowly drifting in and out, only half listening to the conversation still going on above his head, when he felt Madara’s fingers begin to absently trace up and down his arm. It should be illegal, he decided. No one should have the power to make him feel so safe and comfortable in a world so full of danger and hurt. It made him never want to sleep on his own again and he recognized that as a stupid thought even as it entered his head.

“Does he snore? Is he gonna start snoring?” Izuna sounded like he was trying not to laugh.

“Hush. No, he doesn’t snore.”

“You would know.”

“Shhh! Keep your mouth shut! What if he hears us in his sleep or something!?”

Madara’s whisper yelling almost made him smile but Tobirama found himself too interested to hear what they were talking about to interrupt them with a clean sign that he was still awake. Although he certainly was close enough to sleep that he felt ready to snore whether or not it was a usual habit.

“If he hears you in his sleep then he’ll just chalk it up to a dream, no worries Aniki.”

“Just keep quiet, alright? Quit it.”

“Oh come on. Everyone knows except him.”

An offended huff ruffled the top of his head. “None of you should be discussing this behind my back. It’s no one’s business but mine. And his. No, not his, I don’t want him to know yet!”

“Well good news for you, I don’t think he’s going to figure it out unless you dance naked in front of him with a banner that says ‘I have a massive dorky crush on you!’” Izuna laughed to himself, muffling the sound behind what sounded like a pillow, and it was all Tobirama could do not react. Staying still was the hardest thing he had ever done in his life as Madara whined piteously above him.

“I don’t want him to figure it out! The last thing he needs is to think I’m trying to trick him in to staying here or something.” Izuna’s laughter faded awhile while Madara continued. “He’s gone through a lot and he’s still dealing with it. Now isn’t the time to be adding something like this on his shoulders – especially since he clearly doesn’t feel the same.”

“Clearly, huh? I would say differently.”

“You would say wrong.”

“Says you. Haven’t you noticed how much closer he is to you than me?”

Madara’s body jerked as the arm around Tobirama lifted away for a moment, followed by the sound of Izuna getting the back of his head swatted.

“End of discussion.” Madara declared sternly. He returned his arm to where it had been, holding just a little bit tighter.

“Fine. Fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut. But let the record show that I think the smartest thing to do would be to tell him how you feel now so he can come to terms with his own feelings too and you can both live happily ever after.”

“Ugh. Don’t be such a sap.”

No answer came but after a minute Izuna got up and left the room, probably heading to bed. Left alone, Madara returned to stroking Tobirama’s hair in silence for a while, seemingly content to remain where he was for the foreseeable future. Eventually he did move but it was only to gently maneuver them both a little deeper in to the corner of the couch so that Tobirama could rest against his chest and he could snuggle his own head back against the cushions, ostensibly making himself comfortable for the night.

Tobirama remained silent and still until Madara’s breathing evened out and only then did he gently lift his head to stare up at the man who had taken him in and given him everything he thought he would never have again.

Apparently Madara had feelings for him. What he was supposed to do with that knowledge was something he would need more than one evening to figure out. Dating and romance had never been his forte. It hadn’t been on his mind in quite some time even before his exile and he certainly hadn’t expected to encounter those things here.

It could all wait for another night, he decided. Knowing he was dooming himself to a good round of teasing in the morning – and a little bit of extra confusion for his own heart – Tobirama laid his head back down and closed his eyes to enjoy the warmth of the embrace so freely given. Whatever complications may come from this revelation, here in Madara’s arms was still the safest place he had been in a very long time.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #izuna #fanfiction

[raendown]

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Chapter: 10/18 Word count: 2144 Summary: When Tobirama is exiled from the Senju clan without warning, without even the chance to plead his case, it feels like his life is over. What does he have to live for now without his older brother to believe in him? Captured by the Uchiha in his moment of weakness, Tobirama slowly learns to live again with the last people on earth he would have ever expected to care for - or to fall in love with.

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Chapter 10

Tobirama checked himself over one more time before knocking on the door of Madara’s office. If his business were something actually important he would have let himself in without bothering to knock as he and Izuna usually did, the only two people welcome to do so, but he could feel how focused and concentrated the man inside was and if Madara did not wish to be disturbed then Tobirama was loathe to interrupt him for something that could wait.

“Quit lingering and just come in, Tobi.”

His lips twisted in a wry expression. Sometimes he forgot that Madara was quite a skilled sensor as well. Not quite on his own level but certainly nothing to be underestimated. He was smiling when he opened the door, pausing to appreciate the sight of the man’s reading glasses before stepping fully in to the room. Then he paused to enjoy as well the widening eyes taking in the first sight of him and the reason he had come to talk.

“What…are you wearing?”

“Ah.” Looking down at himself as though he hadn’t already checked it all a dozen times already, Tobirama let his arms hang awkwardly at his sides and resisted the urge to shift from one foot to the other with nerves. He felt as awkward and coltish as a teenager showing off a new outfit. “It took a bit of digging but Izuna was able to find me a set of armor that does not bear the Uchiha mon. We thought it was about time I have something ready just in case I need it.” He was already spending his days wearing whatever scraps of clothing Madara had been able to rustle up that didn’t bear the uchiwa crest, he hadn’t been able to think of a rebuttal when Izuna protested that he didn’t have any armor to wear and offered some from the clan armory.

Madara twitched a few times in a way that was neither good nor bad. Then he carefully stood from behind his desk and came across the room to fold both arms within his voluminous sleeves and drag his eyes slowly down then back up, inspecting Tobirama in a way that left him feeling oddly exposed. Even more oddly: he didn’t really mind the feeling. Silence stretched between them while Madara made his inspection but Tobirama refused to allow himself to fidget under that gaze no matter how anxious he was for the man’s opinion.

“It fits you well,” was the final verdict, allowing him to slump with a relief he hadn’t expected to feel.

“The decision is yours and I will accept it, whatever you choose, but…I thought…I could be useful to the clan in other ways than simple seals and teaching the younglings to read.” Tobirama thought he bore up rather well under the weight of the stare that earned him.

“We would never ask you to–”

“I know. Not against – no, I know you would not. But in other battles. After all you have done for me you must know that I would stand beside you if you asked. Surely there are smaller missions that I could help out with as well until I earn the trust of more people in the clan.” He tried not to look like he felt, a child asking for permission to leave the nest for their first time.

The way Madara looked at him definitely had some kind of strong emotion behind it but he had trouble defining what that was until the man turned and went to retrieve something from the desk. When he came back he was holding his ink brush so tightly the wood looked ready to snap yet his touch was gentle and his strokes precise as he lifted it to draw upon the breastplate Tobirama had been given. With both brows pulled together in concentration and his eyes sharp with focus it was almost surprising that his Sharingan never activated to capture whatever it was he was doing.

When Tobirama saw the completed work his breathing shuddered and paused in his chest, now overwhelmed with his own indescribable emotions. The hand drawn rendition of the uchiwa fan was ever so slightly crooked, he noticed. It was also the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.

“We, all of us, are honored that you chose to stay.” Madara held his eyes, trapping his gaze and not letting him look away. “You may not bear our name but you carry the weight of us all at your back wherever you choose to go. You’ve earned more trust here than you might think.” There was a certain lilt in his voice that gave the impression he was holding back the ‘yet’ from that part about bearing their name and Tobirama wondered suddenly if he asked right in this very moment if they would stitch an uchiwa on the back of all his clothing.

The idea was as thrilling as it was terrifying, though he chose not to share such thoughts that he wasn’t quite ready to face himself.

“I don’t know what to say,” he murmured instead. Madara cleared his throat gruffly, probably realizing he had created an emotional moment and attempting to backpedal as quickly as possible, as was his habit.

“You say thank you, obviously. Don’t you have any manners?”

“Of course. Thank you.” Tobirama bit the inside of his cheek harshly to stop anything else from falling out of his mouth. His fingers itched to trace around the unintentional gift and already he was flipping through several different options in his mind for how best to preserve the ink. Something so precious should be kept carefully, after all. And perhaps there was also a small part of him that wanted to show it off to as many people as possible.

“Hmph. Well. I was rather busy, I should get back to this.”

Madara hustled himself around the table with purpose but when Tobirama followed to look curiously at what he was doing he all but threw himself down to cover the paper with a low shriek. “No! It’s…it’s not done. You can see it when it’s done!”

“What is it?”

“Nothing! You’ll know eventually! When it comes back!”

“Okay…you’re being weird.” Shaking his head, Tobirama shrugged and allowed the odd behavior to carry him away from the sticky emotions he was trying very hard not to deal with or even examine too closely just yet. “Although that isn’t very different from usual, you’re always weird. I only came to make sure it was alright that I kept the armor. Oh and Izuna mentioned he was running a delivery to the Aburame and I thought I’d go with him if that’s alright too.” The last part came out all in a rush and he finished with the same overly cheerful smile Izuna always used to play innocent when he knew no one would believe him anyway, dodging out of the office as soon as he’d finished speaking.

He made it in to the hall and halfway across the living room before he heard Madara’s voice hollering behind him, “Wait, what? Leaving? Get – you better come back safe, you ass!”

Not slowing his steps, Tobirama rolled his shoulders to settle the gifted armor in a better position and tried not to think about how nice it felt to have someone tell him to be safe. It had been a long time since anyone bothered considering his track record of successful missions. His steps were lighter as he made his way towards the front gate where Izuna waited with a weapon for him to borrow and a path for him to follow. With every step he reminded himself not to do anything as embarrassing as trace the drying ink now marking his chest.

It would be nice to get back out in to the world again. Sparring so often with Izuna had built up quite a lot of the muscle he’d allowed to go to waste in his initial poor handling of his own situation. Now he was eager to put that training to good use even if he did nothing more than run to the Aburame compound and back without a single skirmish. It was strange to do it with an Uchiha by his side but Tobirama was glad to be living again.

His old rival stood waiting for him just outside the house and the double take he did when he spotted the aesthetic additions to Tobirama’s armor was both amusing and worrisome. But then his face lit up with a feral grin and Tobirama relaxed enough to answer with a quiet smile of his own. It didn’t matter that he would probably be teased about this at every opportunity for the foreseeable future, what mattered was that Izuna approved, agreed even, and it meant the whole world to Tobirama knowing that his place here was growing more certain with every day that passed.

 -

 Alone in the quiet of his own home, evening blanketing the world outside in cricket song and moonlight, Hashirama stared at the scroll on his desk and considered rubbing at his eyes for a third time just to be absolutely certain that he was seeing it clearly. Perhaps he had been working for too many hours and begun to hallucinate. In a sentence the words made perfect sense; as a concept he was having trouble believing this was truly happening.

Uchiha Madara had sent him an overture of peace.

After all these years, after all the countless times he had extended an olive branch only for that very man to deny him again and again, he had before him a letter in Madara’s hand demanding a ceasefire between them.

There was no other word for it, really. He had already read through the letter half a dozen times; in no way could he describe those phrases as a request or a plea. This was a demand for peace and yet it contained none of the veiled threats that one might expect to find hidden between the lines of such aggressive language. Nothing on the page suggested that anything violent would follow should he choose – stupidly – to reject this call for peace.

Although he wasn’t entirely sure peace was what his old friend was after here. Madara spoke of a ceasefire, of ending the violent hostilities between their clans, of no more lives lost to either side. What he did not speak of was an alliance or any chance to work together towards the dream they had once shared. Hashirama stared at the scroll on his desk and felt the rekindling of those dreams like a muted candle shining light around the corner from another room: tantalizing, beckoning, yet hidden still from sight.

Obviously there was no path he could possibly consider but to accept these demands, no matter their impolite language. Hashirama’s fingers trembled as he lifted the scroll to read through it just one more time. Even though he knew he would sign it in the end he also knew he was very much going to look this gift horse in the mouth. Why now, he wondered. After all this time what had happened now that could prompt Madara to send a message demanding the very thing he had rejected so many times? Especially considering his behavior when they met on the battlefield a few days ago, even more angry and standoffish than usual. If anything he would have said Madara despised the Senju now more than he ever had before.

Something big was happening, all of his instincts were crying out to tell him something else was going on that he didn’t know about but with most of his concentration taken up by the mystery of Tobirama’s disappearance he simply didn’t have the time to add a puzzle this big to his own plate. Hashirama wondered if anyone in their informant network was close enough to the Uchiha to find out more or if he would even have the people to spare investigating this in the months ahead. It seemed the elders had finally gotten the point that he would not allow himself to be manipulated the way they had tried to accomplish by sending his most trusted advisor away; his attention would surely be turned inwards soon to counter whatever idiocy they were brewing behind his back.

The contract was signed and sealed and on its way back to the Uchiha compound long before Hashirama calmly stood from his desk and sent word for the council of elders to be gathered for an impromptu meeting. It promised to be an interesting one. They weren’t going to like this turn of events but Hashirama honestly could not care less for their opinions on the matter.

They had lost that luxury when they lost him his brother.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #hashirama #fanfiction