The first time he ever heard the words about it, Madara couldn't have been past six years of age, Izuna himself being four and a new baby brother on its way. He had been practicing his hand to hand combat with some of his clansmen (granted he had showed an aptitude for taijutsu and shurikenjutsu, although his bukijutsu could still use some more refinement) he had happened to overhear and perhaps that is the main reason why his mother specifically chided the Uchiha children when they eavesdropped on conversations, and when women would whisper among themselves.
"The Sharingan"
"The Sharingan"
"The Sharingan"
He knows that is his clan's dojutsu and he is proud of it, but just what are the implications of gaining such power? He ignored it for the time being, practicing, going into battle, bathing, eating, sleeping, and redoing the whole routine again. He witnessed the coming of his third little brother, and that's when he decided to approach his father. He asked him, but he vaguely explained to him that during an important moment in his life it would be awakened. He tried asking his clansmen, and their answers would vary. Unsatisfied with the shortage of answers, Madara took to the bars. He may be underage but he isn't looking to get drunk he's looking to find someone who could give him a concise and coherent answer.
He watched as a man stood outside one of the most frequented bars, looking up to the sky with crossed arms. Madara had a scarf wrapped around his neck, pulling it closer to his face he began to regret no wearing something much warmer than his usual kimono. Madara quietly approached the man and stood there until the man acknowledges his presence.
"Young master, what are you doing out here so late?" he inquired, still looking up to the sky thoughtfully.
"I'm looking for answers," was Madara flat reply.
"Answers? Couldn't you have looked for them tomorrow? Surely your mother must be incredibly worried about you," insisted the man.
"No, it's because no one can give me the answer I'm looking for, like they are keeping a secret," said Madara, completely dismissing the other questions, he felt profoundly confused because children should be learning early on about their dojutsu, right?
"How about this young master…let's go inside and I'll treat you to some milk if you wish," said the man, finally looking down to meet Madara's curious gaze. Nodding, Madara followed after the man, entering the bar had Madara shivering at the sudden change of temperatures, it strongly smelled of liquor, the restroom's open door gave way to the foul smell of piss, and the smoke of cigarettes gave the shabby place a much fuzzier look. The man led Madara to the end of the stools; he ordered both of their drinks as Madara got comfortable next to the male.
"Young master, do you know why men and women alike enjoy drinking?"
"They like the taste?"
The man gave a hearty laugh, before thanking the bartender as he placed both drinks in front of him; he slid over Madara's milk and continued with his chatting.
"Close enough, but there is another reason why men and women drink."
"And that is?"
"To live looking up at the sky, to forget about rational feelings and think freely without reproaches, be happy even if it is for a few fleeting moments," the man explained, sipping from his drink. Madara hummed thoughtfully before speaking.
"But why? Why look up to the sky if we all see the same thing? Why try to intoxicate your brain so you can enjoy fleeting moments?"
"Perhaps you are years too young to understand young master but heed my words when you too sit on a bar sipping from a glass, life is a tragedy for those who feel and a comedy for those who think."
"Huh? Doesn't it goes-"
"At some point," interrupted the man, downing half of his drink at once before proceeding, "in your life you will feel sadness and happiness, at some point your life you will think about this situations and your future-self will laugh because at that one point in your life you might have seen that there was no way around the problem, only to find yourself in the future and seeing how you managed to make it out alive."
"I still don't get it Sir."
"Think of it this way, when I'm sober I feel and I feel sadness because of our current situation, because of the world that you have been born into. I can't enjoy the compound's light or the night sky without having some sort of nostalgic feeling. When I'm drunk, I could care less about my feelings and just say what comes to my mind, because in that state I'm not afraid to feel shunned for my words. Young master is life a tragedy or a comedy to you?"
"I laugh with my family, I'm happy with my family, and I have another baby brother coming so I think I have a comedic life, especially because Kiji and Masaru are always getting Izuna in trouble," explained Madara, with a small smile at the thought of his ridiculous siblings.
"Perhaps it's true, perhaps you'll live in a comedy for your whole life…but with your status as the next head to the Uchiha clan I highly doubt everything will remain the same."
"Well that's to be expected, I need to meet my clan's standards, and I will be growing up, becoming more mature and I'll have more knowledge about life, right now I just have eight years of breathing in this Earth so I barely have an understanding."
"Ah yes, so this should lead to your question and lack of answers. What is it that you wanted to know young master?"
"How is the Sharingan awakened," he stated boldly, fixing the man with a flat look expecting the answer, after all he has heard from his mother that drunkards, crazy people and children all say the truth. The man was about to take a sip of his drink and stopped midway after hearing Madara's question, setting down the drink he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, before turning to meet Madara's unwavering gaze.
"How is the Sharingan awakened," repeated the man softly, Madara nodded in return, clutching at his scarf tightly. The man shook his head with a small smile, closing his eyes and opening them to see Madara's expecting look.
"When you go through the tragedy in your life, that's when you'll awaken your Sharingan. Just don't feel bad if you don't awaken it during a situation you feel it should be awakened, after all you will only look forward into your past and realize that whatever situation it was, it didn't serve enough to awaken it." Madara was about to protest because it still didn't give him a clear answer. When he went through a tragedy in his life? Like what? What are the levels of "tragedy" that a human being could go through before awakening their Sharingan? However the man looked up to the bar's clock and whistled.
"It is quite late young master, you need to go back before your mother flips every house in the compound looking for you," said the man, standing up and fishing into his pockets the money needed to pay for their drinks, Madara hadn't even touched his, but the older male didn't seem to care.
"But-" started Madara, only to have the man give him a pointed look. Huffing in indignation, Madara wrapped his scarf around his neck and followed the taller male outside of the bar. Madara waved goodbye to the man and quickly jumped into the rooftops of the compound buildings, making a quick dash back home. The man stared after him with a sadden smile, hands in his pockets as he once again looked up at the sky, he took a deep breath and headed back into the bar ordering three whole bottles of sake.
The next morning Madara wished he had been a little more careful, now his mother is currently lecturing him about leaving home so late at night and without permission. Madara would have continued to let her finish but she is pregnant with the youngest of his brothers, so he took her hands and kissed them apologizing to her for his attitude. She quickly forgave him, but warned him to not do such a thing again, also demanding to know why he went out in the first place.
"I'm looking for answers," said Madara as he picked up a crawling Masaru and placed him back in his makeshift cradle, Masaru protested against being set there, but once Kiji approached him to play a peek-a-boo game, he was soon squealing in delight, his mirthful laugh filling the empty spaces of their house. Izuna emerged from the hall, along with his father who demanded that their mother sit while he served the food himself. Thanks to their coming Madara had managed to avoid explaining to his mother what he was looking answers for, after all he decided that she'd be his last resource.
That night Madara once again went to the same bar, and just as the night before, he saw the man doing the same exact thing. As he approached the man, Madara could smell the alcohol in him, the man turned to face Madara and beamed at him the moment their eyes met.
"Young master! It is lovely to see you once again," said the man cheerily, a great contrast to last night's attitude. Madara raised a questioning brow at the older male, and he just waved a dismissive hand at him.
"Come on, come on, let's go inside young master," muttered the male, leading them inside and back to the same place. Madara placed both hands on the seat between his legs and leaned forward fixing a stare to the man.
"Under what circumstances is the Sharingan awakened?" asked Madara once again. The man made a strangled sound that was something between a helpless whimper and a snort.
"Young master, I thought I answered your question," said the male in dismay.
"No, you didn't you only told at what point in my life, but I want to know what qualifies as a tragedy, so tell me," said Madara flatly, straightening up in his seat to reach for his glass of milk and take a sip.
"If I tell you, young master, will you finally stop terrorizing our clansmen? You know they all run away at your sight, at first I imagined it was because of your prowess but it turns out it is because you keep insisting with your question."
"Well, if they gave me a coherent answer I would have stopped long ago," explained Madara flatly with a shrug of shoulders.
"I see, alright. I shall give the answer you look for young master. A tragedy…well you can thi-"
"MADARA UCHIHA what in the world are you doing here!?" came the seething voice of Madara's mother, Tajima right behind her, trying to calm her down as she made her way inside the bar, the men stepped away and made a path toward Madara's location.
Without much hesitation, she reached for Madara's hand and took him away, Tajima made sure to ask the male Madara had been seating with, if he had done anything to Madara, or forced him to drink, or anything that might have caused harm to the eldest of the Uchiha brothers. When the male clarified his being with Madara, Tajima went after his wife and son.
Madara was forced to stay home and under his mother's watchful eyes, she had a fit when she learned Madara had been going to a bar, created havoc as she walked through the compound's streets to reach the shabby looking place, and could have incinerated Madara with just her stare, but after the whole ordeal happened she hugged Madara, telling him that he shouldn't keep anything from her, that he should trust her with anything that bothers him, and to never scare her like that again. He, of course, felt guilty for leaving, so he stuck to his punishment and stayed with his mother, only leaving to train with his father or go battle.
When Madara was finally allowed to go outside again, he went back to the bar—and yes he was risking it a bit but he needed answers—and waited for a few minutes, hoping to see the man he had encountered twice. He waited some more and eventually sneaked back into his room, wondering about the male. This patterned continued until Madara started to wonder whether the man had finally become sober, or maybe something had happened to him, or maybe he was out on a mission, whatever it was, Madara decided to give it a rest since he should be seeing the man soon, right?
Two week passed and two Uchiha teams had been sent out to patrol, they came back with dead men and injured people, a few hostages from the Senju and other clans. Madara attended the cremations of his dead clansmen, and with wide disbelieving eyes Madara saw as the next body to be cremated resembled far too greatly the one of the man he had encountered.
Madara remained silent for the rest of the night and the weeks to follow; he had not realized just how much the man's death had affected him. And he had to wonder, is this what the man meant? Madara's mother approached him one night after dinner, greatly concern at her child's sudden change of demeanor.
"Madara, sweetie, is everything okay?" she asked, running her fingers through his black hair, untangling his wild hair in the process.
"Yeah" came Madara's automatic response, he wrapped his arms around his mother and just stood there. This of course worried the woman even more, because Madara just wasn't a physically affectionate child, it was her job to hug him and kiss him to death while he complained about it, and the only instances he ever did hug her were when he felt sad or scared—and even that had been hard to come by ever since Madara entered the battle field—so to have him cling to her so suddenly sure shook her heart.
Kneeling down, as best as she could with her pregnant belly, Madara's mother took his face in her gentle hands, running a thumb over his right cheek, Madara avoided her searching eyes and remained stoic, but she knew something is hurting her baby and she couldn't stand that he wouldn't speak to her.
"Madara, what are you feeling?"
"Madara," she pressed forward, if Madara had inhered something from her it was her stubbornness, much to her dismay and amusement since it could back fire in any circumstance.
"Mother, I'm fine," bit Madara quietly, meeting his mother's worried gaze, and he felt his stomach churn at the sole thought of making her so worried, "Just a little sad at the loss of our clansmen," he settled for.
"Oh baby," she said gathering Madara in her arms, squeezing him tightly and holding him there for a few minutes before releasing him, "we'll be fine, okay? Soon this war will be all over and we'll live in peace, with your brothers and your father," said the woman kindly, kissing Madara's forehead before standing up (with Madara's help).
"Mother…" started Madara, debating whether he should ask now or later.
"Yes, what is?"
"Under what circumstances is the Sharingan awakened?" he asked, deciding to get it over with, after all he knows he can trust his mother, and if there is someone who will tell him the truth how it is, well that someone is his mother. He watched as his mother stopped on her tracks, her back to him and she didn't move for a long time and when she did, she gave him a tight smile and ushered him into his shared room with his brothers. She laid down next to him, after tucking in Izuna, Masaru, and Kiji, and started to run her fingers through his hair. He stayed still for a few minutes but soon became restless when his mother wouldn't speak.
"Mom," he whined quietly, Madara's mother gave a hearty laugh and patted his head.
"So you want to know how to awaken the Sharingan?"
"No, under what circumstances is it awakened," corrected Madara, although he suspected his mother was trying to divert his attention from the real question.
"Well you see…as far as I have seen…okay, think of it this way," whispered Madara's mother, resuming her previous ministrations to Madara's head, "the Sharingan reflects the heart."
"They reflect the heart?"
"Yes, the eyes that reflect the heart. I have yet to see the Sharingan be awakened by heightened positive feelings, in often cases the Sharingan is awakened when you go through a certain kind of disappointment or sadness, negative feelings so to speak," concluded Madara's mother quietly, gnawing on her lip.
Madara looked up to give his mother a perplexed look.
"Then…wait, what? … why…why does the clan…" he trailed, Madara sat up as more and more realizations finally hit him, because all he could think of was about the horridness that the whole thing implied. Parents had literally muted the great love they feel for their children, sending them out to the battle grounds as soon as they mastered their Sharingan, and the thing is that children are awakening the Sharingan at an early age, and he didn't know what to attribute that for the disappointment or the loss of something precious to those children? If so then why hasn't he awakened his own?
"Mother, why…why are we sending children out to their deaths!?" said Madara a tad too loud for Masaru to stir in his sleep. Madara's mother adopted a sorrowful look, rubbing her pregnant belly.
"No…don't answer that…what have they seen that I haven't? Children younger than me have awakened their Sharingan, and they go out to fight to die. Why!? Why are we allowing this!?" asked Madara, genuinely horrified and perplexed, standing up from his spot in the futon. Madara's mother sat up, trying to calm the younger boy down.
"Madara, please your brothers are sleeping."
"Mother"
"Madara Uchiha," she said forcefully, giving him a stern look, "you cannot speak about this to your father. Do you hear me?"
"Why? Why when-"
"You CANNOT speak about this to anyone, Madara," she insisted just as strongly as before. Madara stayed quiet, looking into his mother's eyes, looking for an explanation in her usually gentle and warm gaze, trying to search the joke in her words, or a different truth, whatever, anything but what he has learned. Seeing that he wouldn't be able to push for more, he laid back down into his futon, covering his whole being with the blanket and giving his back to his mother. He felt her pat his back in a comforting way before kissing the back of his head and leaving the room with a quiet "Goodnight sweetie".
The next morning Madara had woken up early, far too early given that outside was plenty dark. He looked over at his sleeping brothers, and watched. He watched as Izuna's eyes fluttered in his sleep, Kiji's drool running down the corner of his mouth, a careless leg thrown over Izuna's middle, and Masaru's once-in-a-while deep breaths before resuming his calm breathing. He scooted closer to pet Izuna's head, before reaching for their shared blanket and pulling it closer to shield his brothers from the room's chill. Standing up, Madara made his way outside of his room, sliding the door close behind him, he tip toed his way outside of his household and jumped over the backyard's wall, swiftly landing on the other side, a stray cat scattered away in terror at his landing. Madara watched it leave, before walking through the compound's streets. As he walked around, he noticed little things here and there like Akane Uchiha's potted plants, the nest made by a family of cats in between two houses, a wind chime lazily making its song by the cold wind's swift movement, and as the sun approached it gave way to the seemingly unfamiliar shadows, Madara couldn't help but feel a little lost in the compound, after such realization he felt like he had been living a lie.
"And they pressure children with their ridiculous high standards," muttered Madara under his breath. He never once brought up the topic again, deciding to keep his brothers oblivious to it than to scare them, because that is how Madara felt at the time he found out the reality he lived in. He felt scared of those eyes, the eyes that reflect the heart, a broken and bruised heart at that. He didn't want them, and he didn't want his brothers to get them if it meant tearing apart who they are now, who they might be—and he is terrified by such eyes, and he can't un-see the pain behind such eyes.
During his last brother's birth, Akio's, his mother died. It shook their world, threw off their center of gravity, and opened a nasty wound in their hearts. It was also Kiji who awakened his Sharingan after their mother's death, Masaru still being too young to awaken them, and based off what he learned from his mother and over time through basic observation, Madara could only assume that he and Izuna could take her death much more calmly than their younger brothers; perhaps the fact that death was just around the corner also helped them mature mentally. They watched with blind eyes, everyone mourned her death, his brothers silently cried, wishing for it to just be a nightmare, they ran the usual ritual and watched his mother's corpse go up in flames, the smell of burned skin and burning cloth assaulting his senses, so strongly and so vividly that he wouldn't be able to recall the day his own mother died.
Tajima took it upon himself to raise all five of them, and due to the shortage of adults with fully matured Sharingan, children and teens that at least could fight off adults were sent out for war, the battles became more prolonged, bloody, and much more violent and merciless. Madara could still hear the gurgled curses flung at him as he slit the throat of an enemy, he could still feel the cracking skull under his foot, and see the bloody stains that adorned his clothes and face, but it seemed that even that wasn't enough to let him awakened his Sharingan.
"How idiotic," he muttered under his breath, avoiding an attack aimed at him and resuming his assault.
Ever since his mother's passing, Madara started to go to the Naka river and skip rocks as a means to cope with everything that happened in his life, he never could actually make it go all the way across to the other side, and as he lost his brother's one by one Madara couldn't make the rock skip at all, it would just sink the moment he threw it. Izuna became the only thing that kept him strong, that kept him steady on the ground and who clearly understood his pain. Tajima had been understanding, but just as any other human being under pressure, he too started to lose sight of himself, of the family he had formed with his loving wife and of the remaining sons he had, and soon all Madara and Izuna were fighting for was for their survival.
His visit to the river became so frequent that at some point, when Madara wasn't training he was skipping rocks across the river—at last he had finally started to make the rock skip to at least half way the distance. And that was when he met the ridiculous looking kid, the one with the bowl haircut, tan skin, the lame pinstriped kimono pants, and the unsightly scarf he insisted on wearing. He found the other kid strange and eccentric, but he also enjoyed his company. Hashirama's appearance had been one miraculous blessing, and befriending him just couldn't be avoided, soon they trained together, laughed together and shared their similar ideologies. When he found Hashirama crying by the river bank, he hadn't imagined that Hashirama too had lost his brothers, and just like him, Hashirama still had one brother left.
Madara had truly come to believe that they could do something, that they could change their futures, avoid children's slaughter, avoid creating social constructs and standards that only served to oppress the younger generations—they are just human, not bionic or durable beings, they still have feelings, can get broken bones, and can die at any moment's notice—and just when they thought "this is it, we finally got it", things went down the gutter.
"Why…"
Butsuma Senju and Tobirama Senju against Tajima Uchiha and Izuna Uchiha, their little brothers threatened and a broken friendship, it all happened too quickly for Madara to process. And yes, he might have had an idea that Hashirama belonged to the Senju clan and he might have decided to overlook such a petty thing, but he couldn't overlook, once again, the attempt at taking another child's life, especially not his little brother's life. That's why he decided to cut all bonds with Hashirama, the less bonds he had the less troublesome they would become later in life. Hearing Hashirama's last desperate attempt to keep their dream and ideas together made his heart tip just slightly, and he felt a change deep inside of him, stirring to life and then he heard Izuna's excited comment about his eyes. Tajima was more than pleasantly surprised, and Madara felt like his world had just collapsed.
The eyes he had avoided, the eyes he thought would never come to life, the eyes he was once so terrified of, those blood red eyes stared back at him as he sat on his futon, and with trembling hands he placed down his mother's mirror, with unsteady legs he walked out of his home, away from the compound's houses, from the smell of wet dirt, the oblivious laughter of his clansmen, from beings who also had such eyes, and he entered the cemetery. He fell hard on his knees, and with uncontainable gasps, he cried above his mother's cold memorial stone.
"Mother…mom...I know…mom…I know…and I regret ever asking…" sobbed Madara, his whole frame shaking as he cried out his sorrows, his regrets and everything that he has experienced, and oh how he wished his mother was alive to comfort him again, to make the pain go away, but that wasn't possible, not here, not now. It was with that resolution and a hazy heart that he braced himself for the approaching future and the uncertainty it sneaked with.
FIN.