Disclaimer: I do not own any rights or claims to Naruto, this is purely for fan enjoyment.

Warnings: PG-13 Rating might rise later on in the book. Graphic Violence later on, Mental and emotional abuse. So far more warnings might be added. Also, slow updates.

Canon divergence: The canon divergence in this book is canon divergence only if you consider 'The Last Movie' canon. It also ignores Naruto Gaiden.


Prologue

He couldn't remember what age he had been when they met first. In all fairness he could barely remember what the other boy had looked like back then, and the scenery of the river of which they met each week was blurring around the edges as his years went on. He could only blame his old age for that, well perhaps that's not quite as true as it should be. He could blame adolescent exuberance and ambition as he got older as well. He had forced himself to maketh an enemy of the boy he had once called a friend.

Something which he sometimes regretted, but could never fully commit the thought too. At the time he would have considered it a mercy to forget the strange boy he had met by the riverside.

Now however as his years wore on that thought was less of a mercy, and more of a burden, hatred consumes afterall, and he had let himself fall into hatreds mouth with his idiotic ideals long ago.

Hashirama was his friend, and though their family's fought, for no clear reason other than tradition, they had managed to find peace within each others company for a short while. Neither of them had ever asked each others family name, choosing instead to acknowledge each other by the simple fact that they were both shinobi. Which was fine for them, they could spar, and forge ridiculous competitions with each other without knowing who they themselves really were in relation to the war.

War was something he was familiar with, he'd fought as a child in a war that had already spanned decades before his time, the reason for the conflict however, never met his ears, and even still he couldn't remember ever being told why they had fought the Senju.

It had simply always been, and as a child he had accepted that, for what reason was there to question something he'd always known? When he got older, and his body matured, his mind did not follow, stuck in the cycle that was simply the way things were, he could not see the fault in war. Nore what catastaphy's it brought with it.

It wasn't until he met Hashirama on the battlefield once more, did he understand that war wasn't something that should span decades at a time. Back then he was controlled by the clan, controlled by their need to beat the Senju, for no reason he could see, yet he complied, and he clashed with his childhood friend again and again for it.

It wasn't until his father died did things start to take a new form, both for him, and his clan. Under his leadership he wrought war reluctantly, with a stern face he never let his fellow clansmen know of his inner turmoil or longing for peace. He lead with an iron fist as needed, and brought his family into death more times than he'd like to remember, just as his father had before him. War now felt like a sin upon his back.

When Hashirama became the leader of the Senju, he had known that things would change, they hadn't seen each other in years, but he knew his friend well, and he knew what he truly thought upon the war.

They clashed once on the battlefield, they drew each other away from the fight of their fellow clansmen, and fought as they spoke. He could remember that day well, it had been a remembrance of their days on the river side, where they would clash simply to clash, and spoke in hushed tones of the future. That day as they clashed they agreed that the future of which they spoke of as mere children was an ideal for their clansmen, and them. Peace was something that everyone needed after the years of fighting.

It was underneath the same cliff that they had promised each other would be a peaceful place did they agree to form the village. The Senju were far more accepting of the idea then his clan was, still he fought his clansmen fore it arguing for the sake of the women and children for once, and not for the men.

For their part, the women of the clan were relieved, and elated for the prospect of peace, most of the children didn't understand the meaning of the word. His men however fought the prospect, stating that they couldn't give in as a matter of pride.

He cared not for the arguments of men at the time.

His mother had been the first women to confront him after the treaty was sealed with the Senju. She had worn a stern look, and her eyes had been far too cold then he was used to, it was as if she was staring upon the proud form of his father and not him. She had pulled directly up to him, her pale hands straightening his kimono pulling it close to his neck. Her own green kimono was a sight to see, and he had never seen her so radiant during the war. He doubted even his late-father had.

She had then lifted herself up and kissed his check gently, a feeling foreign to him, as her touches had never been frequent during the war times. Her only words to him were ones of a prideful mother, before she had turned the other way, greating another Senju women with good tidings, and well wishes.

The peace truly had been a wondrous time.

He and Hashirama had rekindled their old ways of friendship, and his clan slowly adapted to sharing land with the Senju as a peaceful village.

Then his clan had taken a stand against him. For reasons he was not sure of at the time, he had heard the protests of his dear wife, as they pulled her out of their shared house, and set her robes aflame. Her long hair was quick to catch fire with it, she had caught his eye and some sort of inner fire seemed to spark with the mere glance they shared.

Her screams stopped, her shoulders had straightened. Her head held high, much like his had in times of war. When the kunai had slashed her throat she hadn't made a sound but a brief gagging, then her eyes dimmed.

The whole thing had happened so horribly quickly that he hadn't had the chance to get to her in time, his body had stood frozen at the entrance to the Uchiha district.

Then he had ran, quite like a coward, he had jumped from building to building, and upon reaching his friends house he couldn't keep much of a straight face. The dimming eyes of his wife an image appearing behind his eyes.

After that day, the peace was strained, the Senju now afraid of the Uchiha's drastic measures of retribution, banned them into a small corner in fear. The hatred rekindled within the Uchiha clan like a fire that hadn't been properly doused.

What had once been a large district became a small compound on the edge of Konoha. He had been forced into the middle of the whole troublesome affair. As clan leader he was expected to fight for his people's right to land. But as a widower, he was committed to his dead wife, who his own family had killed for no foreseeable reason. So he refused to fight the Senju on the matter.

If he looked closely upon his actions today, he would have reached the conclusion that his decision was in fact the right one. Of course his thoughts today were jumbled from the constant dark surrounding him in this prison. Perhaps he should have made a different decision that day, but he couldn't imagine doing so. He supposed that he had become a bit bitter towards his clan after the death -murder- of his wife. So maybe that's why his banishment didn't fill him with such anger then he portrayed it did.

Now as he sat heavy chains weighing his arms down, in a prison made by the Allied Nations, he had all the time to reflect. Wishing for the sun, he was stuck in an ageless body, the soul of his deceased man he once called a friend weighing heavily upon his consciousness. Sometimes he felt -or perhaps he was simply imagining it at this point- the weight of the soul not only on his mind, but it suffocating his own soul with it's presence.

So perhaps it was just his disillusioned mind conjuring up ridiculous desires, or maybe it truly was Hashirama's soul telling him to seek out redemption, either way, it was something he would never find.

He banged his head against the cold metal behind him, the pain giving him something to focus on. Other than his past that is.

The sound of his large cell door opening drew his attention better however, he was a shinobi after all, a sessioned one at that a little bit of pain was hardly something he could focus on for long without moving past it. His cell door opening however now that was quite rare. So it drew his attention far more than a dull throb in his head.

"You have mail." He would have raised his eyebrow, but the darkness of the room would have made the whole thing fruitless, so he simply listened to the monotone voice of the ANBU in front of him. "The Council of Elders from Konoha are asking for a peace treaty between you and Konohagakure." The laughter that bubbled out of his chest was unexpected even for him, and he scowled at himself as his composure was lost even to himself.

He was near sure the ANBU in front of him was inching away, he was a sensory type, and had he had access to his Chakra he would have known if the man was or not.

"Are you going to continue boy?" His voice was dry, and hoarse, due to the lack of water provided to him, but he was pleased to find that his deep baritone remained.

There was the brief sound of parchment being moved ever so slightly, and then his cell was basked in the warm glow of the torch beside the ANBU in front of him. The light did not shocks eyes due to their dexterity to change, he was an Uchiha after all. His eyes were quick to adapt as all Uchiha's eyes were, sharingan or not.

He stared at the mask of the Konoha ANBU across from him, a feline painted onto the white surface.

"It states that should you agree to their terms and conditions you will be released from your prison here, and onto the streets of Konoha. The treaty will be signed by means of Blood-jutsu, under the gaze of the current Rokudaime and the Council." The ANBU stopped reading, and though he couldn't see the eyes of the man underneath, Madara was well aware of the fact that the man was staring at him, waiting for a response.

"Read the terms and conditions." Madara wasn't one to ask, and he certainly wouldn't be doing so for one of his prison guards who was far weaker than he. The fact that the Elders of Konoha had sent a treaty request for him, interested him, he hadn't been expected to be contacted for months upon months yet. Even then he expected it to be for something far more morbid than a simple treaty.

"Terms and conditions: No death of Konoha citizens or shinobi.

Ninety-percent of your chakra will be sealed upon reaching Konoha's, ten-percent will be left unsealed for the use of your Sharingan (explained on paragraph 10.)

You will not be able to take any missions of any rank, until a minimum twelve month period has passed, at which point the Rokudaime will determine if you will are able to be put back onto active shinobi duty." This, he had all been expecting as the terms. The more concerning issue, was why exactly they would allow him upon the streets of Konoha in the first place. He had threatened the entire world with his existence, yet they wanted him free? Certainly, there was an ulterior motive hidden here. Perhaps it would become evident once he reached Konoha and met with the elders.

There was no doubt in his mind that regardless of the conditions he would agree to them, without pause. So long trapped inside this dark prison, his own sense of time was waning, he knew he had been here for three years already. The war had been so long ago, yet to him it felt as if it had been mere weeks, yet decades away. Time is fleeting, as they say. He knew this better than most.

His sanity, was in actuality, probably better than it had been previously. Moments of war brought the worst out of him. It always had, even when he was a mere child, protecting his precious little brother.

"-As one of your conditions, we ask you to keep a reign on the Kyuubi vessel, after the events of the war, he cannot be trusted to keep the demon in line. We will elaborate further upon your arrival as to how: You are to do this, and what conditions will be put into place to allow such an arrangement." So that was his condition, why he was allowed his freedom. He didn't care for the reason, though he thought their concern, was… Unfounded, if it assured him his freedom he would play to their schemes.

"We are sure you are aware of a bill called the 'Procedural Konoha Protection Act' as it was drafted in your time of youth by you and the Shodai, we are now enacting it. We are also enacting the 'Clan Restoration Insurance Act' a bill drafted after you had left the village by the Nidaime shortly before his passing. The meaning, we find, is rather clear." He wanted to laugh once more, by his own will this time. It was rather clear, they wanted to restore his clan, well he had no issues with that,

As they had mentioned both of those bills, it disconcerted him. Did they want his sperm? Or did they want him to wed?

The elders from Konoha nor any nation for that matter, had ever been forthcoming with their plots for their villages, and there was always some sort of plot developing.

Hashirama, had always been suspicious of their actions during their time as founders of the village. He himself, was no different.