Summary: He knew he was different the moment he realized how much he lacked empathy, however, Izuna had his own way of showing his emotions. With blood and sweat, he devotes his love by creating a mountain of bodies to ascertain his brother's patriarch in the Uchiha Clan. Yes, he was loyal and yes, he loved. Perhaps, that boy, Tobirama was right, perhaps, his love was a curse.
Yes this is an Uchiha Izuna/Tobirama story, and yes, it's AU. This plot is not tied to Chronicles of the White Fang! Read this story independently and with an open mind from the Sakumo story.
The Origin of the Uchiha Curse
Chapter One: Darkness
Uchiha Izuna was born in the darkness.
A deep, oppressing silence that threatened to suffocate him if he so much as moved. In a way, the threat was very much real when his mother, Uchiha Akane, had later told him, when he was a bit older to understand, about how she laid on the ground during her early stages of labor. She gritted her teeth to hold in her cries and bore with the pain like a true kunoichi. She never made a single sound throughout.
His two eldest brothers sat on either side of her, small hands holding their pained mother with a reassuring innocence that only children could muster. They were the only ones who awaited his arrival to the world with an eager welcoming. When on the other hand, the Uchiha around her, with crimson eyes that swirled ominously, observed her with tensed muscles and twitching fingers towards weapons.
The silence bore down on them heavily. Only broken by the thundering footfalls above them. The shouts and screams that echoed around the alert survivors was a heavy reminder of what was out there, and it was during such a vicious attack, in one of their many hidden strongholds, where his mother was giving birth in. The environment was no place for a mother in labor. The screams of a newborn would echo throughout the underground tunnel and alert the enemy shinobi above. It would have been best to snap his neck before he could even draw his first breath. Kill the newborn before he killed them all. It was during this that Uchiha Tajima, his father, stood steadily. Crimson eyes fixated his fellow subordinates with a level glare that promised death. His pale hands gripped his unsheathed swords with a silent determination to protect his family, no matter what happened. He awaited the arrival of his third-born son with dread and prepared himself for the inevitable cries that would surely be their downfall.
'You were molded by it,' she had whispered to him soothingly as she had described the events that played out. She had cradled him skin to skin. Breathed lovingly to him with short, soothing words that ordered him not to cry. As if a newborn would ever understand. But she said he had. She told him that she had ran her fingers through the patch of silky black hair and kissed his forehead that was crusted with dry fluids. She held him with a desperation within the ominous silence, and then he took in a few shaky breaths, as if hearing his mother's calls and settled down.
But he knew now that it wasn't her voice that reassured him within the oppressive world that he had born into: it was the darkness. The screams of the dying, the shouts of the murderers, and the explosions that racked the stalactites was enough to startle any newborn baby. However, as Uchiha Akane offered him her milk, he kept calm, knowing on instinct that if he didn't, the ominous hostility that revolved around him would surely get to him too.
It was survival, and he had learned it too well the moment the world screamed before he did.
Finally, she kissed his closed eyelids, prompting him to open them. He did. Obsidian eyes observed the odd figures within the darkness in curiosity. Then with bated breaths, the surviving Uchiha prepared themselves to fight through Tajima or pray that the shinobi above wouldn't hear the cries from below. However, nothing of the sort happened when he gave a few whimpers, caught her finger with one frail hand as it slithered over his throat, and stared into her red gaze and swirling tomoe, unafraid before he finally remained silent. It was as if he knew. Instincts, whether he was conscious of or not, warned him of the consequences. They honed him like a water stone used to sharpen a katana.
When he would ask his mother to remind him of the day he born, he would close his eyes and search the deepest recesses of his mind for those familiar senses. The sense of despair, hate, and bloodshed. It was his favorite story, especially in the times when he would be disciplined. 'Do not feel as if it is a bad thing, to welcome darkness,' His mother had once told him, late at night after his father had punished him for disobeying orders. He had not so much as blinked when he received the pain and it had frightened him as much as it had frightened his father.
They just dealt with fear differently.
'You were born in a place of no light with darkness as your only embrace.' She had traced the beginning signs of bruises around his eyes before she kissed the sensitive flesh with a reassuring smile. I believe, it is best to become darkness then to adapt to it. That way, you will never concern yourself with who you are or what your purpose is. . . because you already know.'
She was right in that sense. He learned from a young age, the difference between him and others. Through the flickering glances he would receive when he was, in their words, 'being less human' to the way his father would 'teach' him discipline where he lacked in his loose, honest tongue. Rules. Justice that was merely based on the vague concept of human behavior. The social norms that were meant to be followed, was merely an everyday subject to question. Follow the rules. Mimic their emotions. Become someone who you're not because who you are is merely a monster in their eyes.
He wondered if there were others like him. Others who lacked empathy like he did. Others who had to abide by the rules that society influenced onto them. Others who doubted every tradition, every change while everyone around them droned on mindlessly.
'You're being too insensitive,' his oldest brother, Uchiha Asuya, bit out when they had to inform their neighbor that her husband died.
If only he knew. . .
'What a good little weapon I've created,' His father mused after he wailed punch after punch without eliciting a response from him. Izuna kept his eyes straight ahead and avoided meeting his father's gaze by staring into Madara's. His brother was forced to watch. It was how their father learned to keep him in line. Izuna didn't mind as long as Madara didn't look away. Those obsidian eyes were his only anchor, and drowning. . . drowning was something he feared most. 'Learn well, Madara, from this example. Look how obediently this emotionless tool takes the punishment that you deserve.' Shinobi were tools. They were not allowed to feel.
But he did feel.
He felt so much that it hurt.
They just assumed he had no emotions because they were not frivolous and fleeting. He wondered if there were others out there who felt emotions in a much more devouring way. His loyalty, his love. . . it could not be related to or sympathized by others. He understood that those around him were blind to the lengths he went to in order to please those he loved. He went against his very nature to become what they wanted.
If his father wanted an emotionless weapon for a son then Izuna would be what he wanted him to be.
If Asuya wanted him to be more sensitive then Izuna would do as he said.
If his mother said he was darkness himself. . . then Izuna would become darkness.
So instead of explaining what he thought about their social norms, Izuna merely learned how to act. However, there was at least some people out there who cared. People who, despite not understanding him, had merely learned to accept him for who he was because they knew at least one thing about him that was true: his loyalty and love would never waver.
"Look at him. He looks like a girl," a few Uchiha that were a bit older than him spoke up above a whisper. Izuna heard fine without one of them intentionally raising their voice.
"Quiet," another boy quickly reprimanded. "That's Uchiha Izuna."
Izuna's eyes flickered back and forth, observing the hesitating moves of Asuya as he pulled back on his punches and the fierce blows of a quickly, irritated Madara, who landed only a few hits. What was the point of sparring when both were not fighting at their full best? Madara was emotionally unstable and Asuya was hesitant because he cared about the one opposite of him. There was no point. None at all. Madara didn't spar a stronger opponent in order to have them hold back. It was wasteful and irritating.
If only Madara would spar him. Izuna wouldn't hold back. He'd make him bleed, make him cry over broken bones, and Izuna wouldn't show mercy because he loved him. Enough to help him reach his greatest potential of strength.
He ripped more blades of grass.
"I bet I can take him down," the first boy who had spoken said airily. "I heard he was punished by Tajima-sama because he was weak. Without the sharingan he's nothing. I mean, when I was his age I already-"
The sentence died on the boy's lips when Izuna gazed up, locking his obsidian eyes with ones that bled into the Sharingan. Izuna knew weak people when he saw them and the boy who instantly activated his sharingan just by Izuna's glance was enough to reveal that weakness can be disguised by arrogance. He was like a deer at the sight of death to a true sharingan's eye: knowledge of its fate, but powerless to change it.
Izuna ripped more blades of grass and stood up swiftly. "Take me down then," he offered calmly, eyes holding the threatened Uchiha's gaze. He was probably a cousin, a distant relative. Everyone in the Uchiha clan was family one way or another. He felt nothing however. Nothing but a usable human to pass time.
"You've done it now," one of the boy's from his group laughed. The boy looked from side to side, seeming to feel trapped under his arrogant words. Another thing Izuna learned was that most people also felt the need to victimize themselves in a situation they knew they would come out of failing and humiliated. Why did people tend to do that? They corner themselves and try to prove themselves without the confidence to do so.
"Fine," the boy spat out before he strode forward. Izuna eyed the tension of his body that tried very hard to hide the trembling underneath. They stood a few feet away from each other, and they both put up a hand to form the Seal of Confrontation. A tradition the Uchiha clan passed down to the younger generations. It was a way of greeting their sparring comrades with respect. Izuna bowed his head, taking his eyes off of the Uchiha for one second.
He felt the air shift and Izuna rolled forward before pushing himself up into a hand stand in order to kick the Uchiha in the chin. Izuna's obsidian eyes gazed at the two blades in the Uchiha's hands before he whirled his legs outwards in a 'coin flip' move he had seen the merchant gypsies do within their dancing. Then he promptly kicked a kunai out of the Uchiha's grip before grasping it as he whirled to his feet. He placed his hand against his throat while simultaneously flipping the blade in order to stab the hilt down against the Uchiha's other hand. The second blade clattered to the ground and in less than a minute, Izuna had the Uchiha pinned under him. One hand held his throat and the other positioned the knife right up against the scalp.
Crimson eyes gazed up at him in shock. He felt the heartbeat under him move erratically, showing signs of fear. The Uchiha had the right idea in fearing Izuna. He had no boundaries. There was no such thing as right or wrong in his book because such things didn't exist. Those were merely illusions. That was what made him unstable and dangerous in the crimson eyes of his family.
Izuna's lips curved up into a practiced and mastered form of a cheerful, mocking smile. "I assumed that because you have already activated your sharingan, you'd at least be a challenge." He formed the Seal of Reconciliation and watched the Uchiha slowly stand up, looking completely shaken underneath his stoic stature. "Why do you look so scared? Cheer up," he drawled out before his smile died on his lips. "At least now you know what weakness truly means."
"Shut up, you fucking pariah," the Uchiha spat, still refusing to form the seal in order to officially end the spar. "You don't get any privilege within the Uchiha clan just because your Tajima-sama's son! You're the one whose weak without the sharingan. You don't know the things that I have seen. . ."
Izuna's hand slowly fell to his side. His eyes were dark and unreadable. "Lick your wounds," he began. "Before I kill you."
"Izuna." He felt Asuya's presence beside him, tense and alert. He felt the hesitance and withdrawal of him even though his firm grip tightened on his shoulder. "That is enough."
Izuna smiled cheerfully. "Hai, oniisama." He turned to the injured Uchiha and gave a low bow with a smile. "It is best to be wise in this situation." He brought his hand up to form the seal to end the spar before he gazed up to lock his eyes with the swirling tomoe, unafraid. "You never know when the battle will begin again even if it's during a cease fire." This time, all the stoicism in the world couldn't hide the shaking in his hand as the Uchiha rose it to form the Seal of Reconciliation. The spar was officially ended.
When there was no more audience and just three brother's left in the training ground, Asuya quickly turned to him with a glower. "When we are in public, you become an extension of father's reputation. Acting out of your own free will is disgraceful and it will only result in father punishing you once again." Izuna stared at him blankly, and it must have triggered the softer side of Asuya because his eyes lost anger and his words became soothing as he continued, "Izuna, please. Try to be more considerate. I can't protect you from father's wrath yet, but once I'm strong enough-"
This time it was Madara who interjected. "Don't touch him." He ripped Asuya's hand away from his shoulder. Izuna felt the bruising pain across his flesh, a reminder of the rod his father used across his shoulder, but it did nothing to distract him. All he had to do was overcome the obstacle then pain would be nothing. "Izuna has his own reputation to uphold. He did good in showing those weaker than him who was really the superior one among them."
"Respect is not gained with fear," Asuya hissed out. This time his anger and frustration was taken out on Madara. It was easier for Asuya to get a reaction out of him instead of Izuna.
"Yes it is," Madara countered back, eyes blazing. "In this world it is. Those who fear will obey."
"You're sounding just like father!"
Madara's eyes darkened. "Don't compare me to him!" He warned, reaching forward to grasp a handful of Asuya's tunic. "Don't you ever compare me to him."
Izuna's eyes wandered off to the new chakra signature that slowly made its way towards them. It wasn't until the tiny figure was visible that Madara and Asuya noticed as well. They both quickly warmed at the sight of their youngest brother bouncing towards them in an eager skip. "Nii-chan!" Izuna threw on a smile when he was tackled by the little boy. He placed a hand on the soft black hair, observing the way the little chubby face rubbed adoringly against his abdomen. "Nii-chan, can we play?" He vaguely wondered why his sibling always looked to him for permission. Perhaps, in a sense, he looked to him the way Izuna looked to Madara, but he shook that thought away. No one's love could compare to Izuna's.
Madara crossed his arms. "Ninja don't play, Kazuma," he grumbled, looking irritated by the mere idea.
Izuna patted the little boy's head. "Sure," he agreed softly. Madara blanched and gave Izuna one critical stare when he gestured to the two older brothers. "How about ninja tag?" Kazuma's attention was swiftly and strategically switched to Madara and Asuya. "I'll be the enemy," Izuna offered with a smile.
Madara looked even more furious. "I am not playing!"
He kicked Madara in the abdomen. "Tag your it," he sang out. Three brother's watched in shock and humor as Madara was flung back a few feet by force.
Kazuma giggled, hopping up and down with a cheer. "Yay! Ninja tag." While Asuya merely shook his head with one amused smile.
Madara sprang to his feet, eyes blazing in rage. "I'll kill you," he seethed before he sprinted after them.
"Run!" Kazuma shrieked, giving the other two brother's the sign to bolt out of there. They scattered in different places to hide from the now 'enemy' and proceeded to play until dawn. It wasn't until their mother came down into the training ground that they finally stopped. She cradled her swollen belly with one hand while the other carried a small fan. She waved it lazily next to her face innocently, but looks could be deceiving. Before she became the matriarch, their mother was a kunoichi who helped protect Uchiha territory when enemy clans invaded while Uchiha shinobi were away in the front lines. That fan was no ordinary fan and those wary eyes barely concealed the sharingan underneath that hue of obsidian. She was wary even in her own home.
Izuna hopped down a branch after dodging a barrage of Madara's kunai and landed neatly next to his mother. "Why are you here?"
She smiled, not at all offended by his blunt statement. "I wanted to know where my boys were at." She gave a tired sigh and slumped on a tree trunk. "Plus, little Nobura was kicking a lot. He missed you." She rubbed her belly, encouraging him to place his hand on it. He did and not a moment after did he feel that small bump rising under his palm. He leaned closer.
"How do you know that it's a boy?"
"I don't," she grumbled and frowned. "To be honest, love, I really wish for the baby to be a girl, but your father is insistent."
"A sister." He liked the sound of that. Women tended to be more understanding, perhaps a sister would be able to accept him completely like his mother did.
She smiled knowingly. "Sounds wonderful, doesn't it?"
"Ka-chan!" Kazuma burst from the underbrush and ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, fully intent on tackling their mother without consideration for the delicate bundle inside her stomach. Izuna crossed his arms, ready to trip him, but Asuya came just in time. He shunshinned behind Kazuma and lifted him up with ease. Kazuma's little legs still swung back and forth for a second before he noticed that he was off the ground.
"Not so fast," Asuya scolded before he placed the boy behind his head and onto his shoulders. Madara landed next to Izuna while glaring at the tears on his yukata from Asuya's kunai.
Their mother narrowed her eyes dangerously. "Really, Madara! It's always you!" She beckoned him forward and none to gently grabbed a fistful of the front of his yukata. He frowned and glared straight into their mother's gaze.
"It's not like I ask for it!" He growled out childishly while she examined the rips.
"This is the fifth time that I have to mend your clothes!"
"Well you're a women! It's your job." Izuna wasn't surprised when she hit him upside the head.
"Is that so because from now on, I'm teaching you how to sow. I don't have the time or patience to fix the mess you create nor am I going to spend more money in buying you clothes, you ungrateful little brat!" She whacked him upside the head once again and even though he tried to dodge, mother had years of experience on him.
Madara whined as he rubbed the back of his head, but Izuna didn't really feel sorry for him at the moment.
"You insulted her," he pointed out.
Madara glowered. "I was just stating the truth." He looked at the rips and tears across his sparring clothes before sighing. "This always seems to happen to me."
Izuna looked up to the sky, eyeing the overcast sky. "It was just ninja tag, oniisama." He smirked at the twitching eyebrow on his big brother's face. "So don't take it so seriously. Plus, Asuya's a prodigy and he mastered his sharingan already."
"What's your point?" Madara bit out.
"My point is that you're not," he stated matter-of-factly which earned him a swipe to the head. He dodged of course and turned backwards to face him as they walked to the main house. He eyed the sky one more time, seeing the faint trail of sunlight behind a thin patch of fog and waited patiently for Madara's gaze to catch it. It was always at this time of day when Madara would leave with a faint excuse and not return until late afternoon. He thought, of course, that he was sly enough to evade Izuna, but he always noticed things about his brother. Especially how he would sneak off to go see a Senju boy.
Madara smiled slightly and crossed his hands behind his neck. "You'll see, one day." His gaze flickered to the sky, eyes widening in hope as he pointed his thumb to the small patch of sunlight. "One day, I'm going to change the world. So that you and Asuya and Kazuma and Nobura can live in peace. I'm going to be stronger than even Asuya and tou-sama."
Izuna tilted his head and slowed his walk to a hesitant halt. He'd never seen such happiness in his brother's eyes. It was something rare and welcomed in the bleak territory of the Uchiha. He didn't want it to fade, so he gave a slight smile of his own something that didn't feel so forced. "You really mean that?"
Madara paused and gave Izuna a grin before he ruffled his hair. "Of course I do!" He glanced to the sky once more and turned slightly. "Crap! I'm late!"
Izuna's smile faded. "Where are you going?"
"Um. . ." He turned fully so that his back was to him. "I'm going to go with the other Uchiha to the woods! Kids aren't allowed!"
Before he could stop him, Madara was already headed around a corner towards the direction of the great Kohaku River. It was the river that was the frontier of the Uchiha territory and the Uzumaki territory, but since the Uzumaki were neutral, powerful warriors that treated any passerby of clans as friends rather than foes, it had been hard to guess which clan boy he was meeting. That was until the battles with the Senju began to happen more frequently. He wondered if the Senju clan were visiting the Uzumaki territory, or whether if a clan boy snuck through the territory to visit Madara. Did they know that they were of clans? Did they keep it secret?
"Izuna, why did it take you so long to come from the training grounds?" Came the soft voice of his mother. He looked up to see her petting softly at Kazuma's hair while he slept beside her. "Where is Madara? Did the other Uchiha say mean things again?" Her worried gaze made him move closer. he hopped onto the wooden panels and crossed into the open bedroom that had the view of their courtyard.
"Yes," he lied smoothly. "He went to go give them a lesson."
She smiled. "That's good of him, but he shouldn't always fight your battles. One day, you must stand up to them." She gestured for him to come closer and as he did, her hand latched onto a lock of hair. "You look so beautiful with long hair-"
"Can you cut it?"
She glowered.
"If you don't cut it, I'll just cut it myself."
"Fine," she grumbled and it reminded him of Madara. He sat with his back to her, starring out into the courtyard as locks of hair fell around his lap. He had only followed Madara out once to go see what was going on and found him playing with that Senju boy. They were laughing, talking. He'd never seen Madara so. . . alive. Without the pressure of their father, without the violence instigated by his discipline, without the dull atmosphere of the Uchiha, Madara appeared so carefree. He didn't want to be the one to destroy that. Which was why he lied to mother, which was why he didn't tell his father, which was why he no longer followed Madara. . .
He did care.