Fabricated Blessing:

Chapter 1- Collection

"Remember, land equals money equals power."

This was a saying my pops always told me; advising me to learn it every day. An old man I've kept indented into my memory forever. His voice, the wrinkles in his face, the deep beautiful laughter he bellowed out at the crudest joke. Every part of him, I remember. He was an individual who's faced the terrors of the world, and survived. These feelings for him were never new, even as a child they existed. He was the real deal, and knew how life worked.

"Mr. Senju, you have one more client to touch up on this afternoon," the voice echoed in the back of the limousine through the speaker the driver spoke through. The Senju calmly picked up the bottle of Gosset Champagne, pouring himself a glass. He let the man's words linger in the air before he sipped some of the dry poison. Never had any liquor taste this disgusting to him. Ah.

"Hold on a second, I need to fix my tie," the driver didn't question his actions, instead paying heed to the road waiting for his master to ask more of the client. Hashirama was a busy man, and as a busy man he couldn't keep track of his schedule. He'd be lost as to what he had to do if not for the driver, or perhaps keeping track wasn't anything of his interest. Hashirama's hand wove the tie together, remembering every step it took from his father. He could practically hear his voice right now ringing in his ears. "May I ask now whom my client is?"

"Uchiha." Ah, that cursed clan. The Uchiha Clan you could say started off pretty splendid like the Senju. Over the recent years, their greed has succumbed them and just like that: Their great clan had fallen. All the riches they received were no more, the land they had; had been taken by the bank, and most of all their clan slowly diminished. One tiny thing killed off this clan. Imagine how shameful they must have been to grovel to the Senju clan (their self-opposed rival) for safety? The Senju clan was his clan, and could be described with one word. Mafia. Many deals would be negotiated, capital traded, and then within one month it would be returned in full. The Senju were a ruthless and proud clan and if they gave you money; They expected it back.

"Ah, how that man had better have my money."

He let out a sigh, letting his eyes stray towards the window to his sanctuary. Savage. A town that had fallen to his power, and had been his creation. The master-piece was his. Within the confines of the town, perfection was seen along with elegance only the Senju could recreate. Tall, malevolent looking homes could be seen in every side with front-yards that rivaled each others. No house looked exactly the same, yet somehow they looked very much the same. The Senju had created this divine town, and as his creator he had every right to play god with his residents, from helping them pay their home or family to letting them meet the cold-metal of his Sig P938 9mm pistol.

"Mr. Senju, we're here." he shook his head, shaking the many thoughts spiraling in his head and thanked the driver before he took a step out the car. The man frowned at the sight before him, unsure if he was at the right place. Before him, was perhaps the smallest house on the block, beaten in some parts of it but still standing prideful. In the front-yard, fully grown were a variety of flowers that only the Spring time could create. Did an Uchiha truly live here? The rudest of all clans, and more revolting? It couldn't be true. With long strides he walked towards the door, pushing the door bell once before he stood there to wait for the Uchiha. Michi Uchiha.

Said Uchiha was located in the main-room pulling on some sneaks, sporting jogging suit. It 5:40 p.m and approaching the usual time he and his son went out for a walk in the park. Oh, how he loved his son yet he could never understand why his wife couldn't feel the same for Madara. While he adored him, she loathed the being that dare come out from her. With his birth, followed many years of her purposely staying after in work to stay away from the deviled creature. Michi was about to look for Madara when he heard the door-bell; curious of the visitor he made the mistake of going to check and opening the door to see the Senju.

"Y...you," whispered the Uchiha, a low growl hidden within the sentence, "What do you want?" Hashirama only chuckled at the man's words, looking over his client. He indeed was an Uchiha, in hateful words for the Senju, as well as beauty. The man before him had his long, spiked hair bunched together in a loose ponytail. Adorning the signature raven locks all Uchiha had. If anything, Hashirama wouldn't mind ravishing said man if he hadn't promised himself to never fall for the poison that was Uchiha.

"My, my rude aren't you? I only wanted to come here for a visit," he smiled at the man before him which did not ease the Uchiha's tension, "May I come in?" With that, he could not be denied. He gave money to this man, like all in this town and as courtesy they had to oblige to his will. The Uchiha only moved away from the doorway, allowing him access into the home. "Thank you." He let himself in, looking over the decent home. In all, it was nothing like he imagined the Uchiha would live under. The Uchiha were arrogant, they were disgusting and greedy. Yet, here he was inside this man's home and it looked humble. As if the man didn't use his money to buy lavish furniture or trinkets. What kind of Uchiha was this?

"Senju-sama, would you..like something to drink?" Michi bit his lip, fear evident with every motion. Something Hashirama was used to, and craved. Fear meant no rebellion would be met. He hated when he had to shove such cockroaches to the ground, but they had no place to deny him when he had given them everything they could ask for.

"No, I'm fine. I just had champagne in the car." he casually walked to the living room, sitting himself on the arm of the indigo loveseat. Michi eyed the man cautiously, and followed the man, wanting to ask more but he could not open his mouth. He had not been able to collect the money in time, yet he had valid reason for this. A valid reason he hoped would save his life. For his son's sake. He was just about to speak when Hashirama chose to speak first, and with that the Uchiha shut his mouth.

"I've come to collect the money you owe me..." he drawled out seeing the man tense at his words, Hashirama letting out a cruel smile, "But if you don't have the money..."

"I...I don't but please! Give me more time I c-" The man yelped, unable to continue his sentence as he felt an unknown cold metal come in contact with his cheek, falling to his knees in front of the man who stood before him pistol in his hand. The man having smacked him with the gun. Michi looked up at the Senju, surprise and fear evident in his eyes as the mafia man glared down at him. Hashirama wasn't a kind man. He in no way was someone you'd mess with.

"I gave you more than enough time to get that money, Uchiha! What did you do with it, tell me" he glared at him, the man inching away from the Senju afraid of what would happen. "Tell me!" Hashirama advanced towards him with every word, "Did you spend it on drugs? Did you waste it partying every night til 5 am? Did you lose in in bets!" with every accusation the Senju drew closer, this time beating the man. His anger and hatred for the clan growing. Uchiha are disgusting. Uchiha want to use the Senju's money. Uchiha are pitiful. He could no longer control the beast in himself as he mercilessly beat the poor Uchiha. Hand scouring his pocket for his pistol to finish the man.

Creaaak

"Daddy?"

His world had collapsed, and so did the advances to the beaten Uchiha man. That voice. The owner of that voice. Every fabric of the voice's being had calmed the raging monster. Who was this boy to make such an impact? Just an average child. This person was as average as any other being in the world, yet he was able to twist him into submission.

"Madara, please go back to your room!" Michi was shaking badly, with a bloodied lip, and new fear for the Senju. Never had this happened to him before, and all of it was due to Madara. He only thanked the heavens that his boy had been spared the sight of him so beaten. A sight like that would only break Madara. Madara, like Michi had long, spiked black hair, but unlike his father. His eyes were covered in bandages.

"Who may I ask is this?" he whispered, Michi flinching. Hashirama never was allowed to see Madara, or even know of his existence. All he knew, was that Michi was part of the Uchiha clan and his love-life was less than perfect. In all, Hashirama could not complain otherwise since he never even acquired a love-life with how busy he's been. The Senju on the other hand disliked not knowing everything. He would have none of the secrets. "And may I ask why his eyes are bandaged?"

"He...recently got surgery," the Uchiha doubted he could keep it secret any more, and it was what he wanted to tell him to begin with, "His name is Madara, he's my son." The Senju watched as the boy carefully walked towards his dad, uncaring of the cry that came from him before to leave. Guilt swept over him as he succumbed to his own self-loathing of the Uchiha, thinking they were all greedy, yet this man just told him he got his boy surgery. Yet, he could not shake the feelings inside him that begged for the boy. Desire is a strong thing, and he was a man who never denied his desires like the fools who've convinced themselves it's a sin.

"Daddy? Daddy? Who's the man here..." Madara frowned, though yelped as he was picked up easily. Hashirama surprising Michi with the motion before he glared up at him. Michi wanted him nowhere near his boy. The Senju simply smiled at Michi, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"You haven't paid me, so i'll accept your boy as payment." Michi's eyes widened before he glared, furious at said man. He could deal with being beaten, but for him to take his son? Pure cruelty!

"Madara isn't an item for sale! You can't just take him away from me!" He stood up but winced, falling back again. With that beating, he was useless to save his boy. On the other hand, Hashirama only kept that cruel smile of his as if to taunt the man below him. Hashirama would have none of his refusal.

"The boy is mine, you seem to have paid for his surgery with my money, so you've dug his grave. Madara-kun is now my boy and there is nothing you can do."

He got what he wanted when he wanted.

I hope you enjoyed. Sorry it took a while, (was planning to put this out last Friday) but got caught up in stuff. Either way, hope you enjoyed the chapter and tell me what you think in the reviews. From this, you can tell Hashirama is going to be quite cruel, but shouldn't he be when he's the mafia boss? Mafia wasn't known for peace. I actually had to stop twice, as I searched for a better way to describe the gun he uses, and the liquor he would drink. I'm not fond of it, nor do I drink it so I have no idea of the names or tastes they have.

-Chibisrule943