Disclaimer: I do not own the anime series Naruto, its characters, or any plot or storylines within the Naruto-verse. Mikoto (OC) and any non-canon characters within this fiction are owned by me.

Summary: During the Era of Warring States, the Hagoromo clan eventually allied with the Uchiha clan. As a show of good faith and loyalty, the eldest Hagoromo daughter was offered to the Uchiha heir. This is Mikoto's story. MadaraxOC. Rated M just to be safe.

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Chapter 27

Delicate hands moved across a tanned chest as she gently tapped her cool fingers on the gauze patched onto the warm skin of the man in front of her, checking if it needed to be changed. Tsume Hagoromo watched as the Senju clan leader lay asleep in the hospital bed. His breathing was deep and labored, and there was a small sweat on his brow. She only smiled in relief at this sort of reaction; it was how she knew the antidote was fighting the poison, as a side effect of this was a small fever. Dusting her hands onto her blue half-body apron, the youngest Hagoromo turned to the Senju matriarch.

"He will be fine, Lady Mito," Tsume said softly as she turned to the tired red haired woman sitting on the chair next to the bed. She hadn't gone home yet from the skirmish, so her hair was unkempt and her clothes slightly torn. There was also the disturbing smell of blood and sweat radiating from her. It wasn't exactly how a lady should be presented, but the Uzumaki woman didn't care. Not one bit. Her focus was to assist in any way possible to make sure her husband was okay.

"He just needs some rest, and you do as well," Tsume placed a hand gingerly on the red head woman's shoulder and smiled kindly.

"Thank you," Mito managed to rasp out, "How long will he be like this?"

Tsume let out a soft hum and glanced to the man in bed, "He's strong, so my guess is no more than a couple of days,"

Mito nodded in understanding. A couple of days would be manageable, the clan and village wouldn't suffer. Madara would just have to pull a double work load, and perhaps Tobirama could lend some assistance. A soft smile crept onto the red haired woman's face as she imagined Tobirama and Madara trying to work together. The office would be burnt down over a stolen pen for sure. Her smile faded however, as she heard a soft groan emit from her husband. Despite his power, his position, and his fiercely passionate and loyal nature, Hashirama Senju was still just a man. Mito had to keep reminding herself that. He was still prone to illness and any other ailments that could hinder a human being. The same went for Madara as well; she hoped that both men understood that although they held a godlike status in the shinobi world, they were not gods.

When they arrived at the hospital, with Madara hauling Hashirama over his shoulder, Mikoto and Tsume were already in a private room preparing the antidote. Madara thought it strange that his wife knew exactly which antidote was to be used. Exactly how Hashirama had been poisoned like this was still a mystery to the group. However, Madara had his suspicions, and he guessed that from the way Mikoto had reacted, she had something to do with it. He knew that she would never intentionally harm a comrade, so Madara deduced that it was most likely an accident during their conflict in the cliff face.

Once Hashirama had been placed on the bed and his shirt torn from his body, Tsume quickly implanted an IV line into the back of his hand. She administered the antidote slowly and carefully, monitoring his breathing and temperature as she did so. Mikoto kept two fingers on his neck, checking his pulse. Madara learned off his sister in law that the antidote was also a poison, but proved harmless if it was administered slowly and carefully. If she over-dosed on the antidote, then there would be more trouble for the brown haired Senju in front of them.

Toka Senju soon arrived on the scene after hearing that Hashirama had been admitted to hospital. She reported to the clan leaders that Tobirama had the prisoners in the jail and ready for interrogation, and he was also able to track the remaining five earth shinobi. Two had retreated, while the remaining three were quickly killed by the Sarutobi clan. The Sarutobi were the third most abundant clan in the new village. They had joined not long ago, and had contributed to many aspects of the village already; particularly architecture and their blacksmiths were far superior. As a show of good faith they had gifted Hashirama and Madara with specially made kunais that were light and flexible.

Toka wasn't fond of the fact that she would have to tell Tobirama about his brother's sudden injury. How the injury was caused is still a mystery even to Mito. Only Tsume and Mikoto knew what had happened. She had left quickly after delivering the report to Mito at the hospital, and Mito commanded that the earth shinobi be left in the jail on rations until Hashirama was well enough to begin the interrogation process.

Madara stood at the doorway of the bedroom he shared with his wife. There, he found her sitting cross legged on the edge of their bed, silently watching a sleeping Indra in his bassinette. They had returned home after Tsume assured them that Hashirama was going to make a full recovery. Also, Mikoto began to feel restless as she had been away from Indra for far too long. He proved difficult for Yuna, as he wasn't fond of the formula Izayoi had made for him. The formula was only there as a substitute for when Mikoto was otherwise occupied with extra-long clan meetings or if she was called away on a mission. She had quickly fed him, bathed him, and then soothed him not long ago. Then, he slowly drifted off to sleep.

"You've been melancholy," Madara observed as he stepped into the room, a cup of hot jasmine tea in his hands, "I'd like to know why,"

Mikoto sighed, "Because I screwed up, and almost killed Hashirama," she admitted flatly to her husband. This was a conversation that she wanted to avoid, but she knew it would inevitably happen sooner or later.

Madara raised his brows, "You did?"

"My poison tipped Kunai accidentally grazed him," Mikoto sighed.

"Things like that happen," Madara shrugged, "It's a risk one takes when entering combat with comrades, that's why I prefer to fight alone,"

"I wish I can dismiss this as easily as you can,"

Madara chuckled and sat next to her on the bed. He passed her the hot tea and she took it off him after mumbling a small thank you. She let the warm liquid fall down her throat, instantly feeling the relaxing buzz the tea was designed to give.

There was a small silence in the room for a while, and Madara's gaze moved from his wife to his son. He was sprawled out on his back with his head turned to the left, and his tiny chest was rising and falling with each deep breath he took. Every few moments, he could see Indra's mouth move in a gentle suckling motion. He must be dreaming about food. Typical boy.

Indra's midnight hair was tousled and wispy, but if he was anything like his father, it would quickly grow into a thick mane. Madara secretly enjoyed being a father even though he hadn't been home much over the last few weeks due to Hashirama keeping him busy at the administration building. There had been several times where Mikoto would bring him a home cooked meal for lunch, and she would have Indra nestled in a sling against her chest. When Madara was home, he would often read with Indra curled up in one of his arms.

"So is that it?" Mikoto's voice broke the Uchiha out of his train of thought.

"What do you mean?"

"After that battle, do we just go back to our normal lives?" She asked. Madara thought it was a weird question, and it was something he never really thought of. He hummed softly and brought his hand up to his chin in thought.

"Well sort of," he started, "We need to interrogate the captives, and then send an envoy to the earth country to negotiate the peace treaty again,"

"Oh," Mikoto lowered her gaze again.

"You're still worried about Hashirama, aren't you?"

"Yea,"

"Don't worry," Madara placed a hand on her shoulder, "Tsume said he will make a full recovery, he just has to stay off his feet for a few days,"

"But it's my fault!" Mikoto cried as she placed her head in her hands and let out an exasperated sigh.

"It was a wrong place, wrong time situation. He probably would have been dead anyway if you hadn't thrown the Kunai," Madara's voice grew firm and he forced his wife to look at him with his hand, "We'll keep training until your aim is flawless. As for Hashirama, I know he'll forgive you, he isn't one to hold grudges,"

"If the village finds out, I'll be a laughing stock,"

Madara couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, "They won't find out, I'm sure Hashirama will just laugh this off, his humor is twisted like that,"

Mikoto didn't look convinced. Madara sighed and leaned back on his hands.

"When I was seventeen, I accidently hit Izuna with a shuriken while we were fighting the Hyuuga; I got him right in the back where his heart was,"

Mikoto was surprised with the fact that Madara so casually mentioned Izuna's name. Such a name had been taboo in the Uchiha clan for so long, lest they stirred up old memories and emotions from when their beloved brother passed away. She looked up attentively, her dark chocolate eyes never leaving his onyx gaze.

"I felt terrible, probably worse than what you're feeling since it was my younger brother that I hit," Madara continued, "But he forgave me in the end, we shrugged it off and there were no ill feelings about it. That's the risk that comes with battling alongside comrades,"

Mikoto chuckled, "I think I feel better,"

"Good," Madara leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

She liked it when he was affectionate to her in those small ways. He wasn't the most romantic of husbands, but he knew exactly how to make her smile. Most of their affection took place in the privacy of their own home. The sweet kisses, the whispering, and even the small gesture of making the other tea or a snack was enough for them to feel content and loved in their marriage. Almost a year ago, Mikoto was terrified of getting married and having children, mostly due to the rumors she had heard about him regarding how brutal and cold he was. If one didn't know him, he certainly came across this way, but once you peel back the hardened exterior there was someone who was genuine.

She had never in her life imagined that things would turn out this way; from them actually falling for each other, to building a thriving village with the help of the Senju clan. Resting her head on his shoulder, they gazed at their sleeping child in a mutual silence, simply basking in each other's presence. He loved the smell of her hair and her gentle touch, while she adored his quizzical nature and tenderness when they were alone. He didn't treat her like a meek woman, like a tool to simply give him heirs. He treated her like his equal, and she had certainly proven that she was capable of being equal to any clan leader during their marriage.

Hashirama did end up pulling through with the help of Tsume and her antidote. As soon as Mikoto had heard he was discharged, she immediately went to his home with dangos and a sincere apology. Thankfully, Mito wasn't home, and Hashirama said that they would just keep the incident between the two of them. However, he also remarked that he would be offended if she didn't learn from this mistake. After that day, Mikoto took to the training fields alone, honing her skill in kunai and shuriken throwing. She had slowly improved, and before long she could easily hit all of her bulls-eyes in her training routine.

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"Oh be still, little imp!"

Mikoto sat flustered on the floor of the nursery as she felt a tiny body slip from her hands and dash its pale, naked bottom across the tatami mats and out the door. The woman leaned back on her heels, defeated. Why was it so difficult to dress a seventeen month old child? It was early morning, and Mikoto had routinely risen from her slumber with Madara shortly in tow. They would drink some tea and relax until the sound of a child either crying or giggling echoed through their house. Then, Mikoto would step into the nursery and find Indra standing up in his crib with his little hands gripping the sides. Once she had retrieved him, breakfast would be served and then it was off to the nursery to be dressed for the day, while Madara left for the administration building.

Over the last year or so, the village grew. Other clans began to settle within the walls and safety of the unified village. Such clans included the Nara and Akimichi clans. It turned out that the Nara clan could contribute to medicines as well, and had a lot in common with the Hagoromo. Marketplaces grew, and the economy became strong and wealthy. The academy had a steady stream of applicants where children as young as six entered and studied to become shinobi. Farms flourished in the outskirts with shinobi patrolling them every so often, they supplied food and livestock to the village at a sustainable rate.

Indra very rarely left his mother's side when they were out. He was a quiet, curious child, but he knew to never leave the safety of mother's arms or father's shoulders. He was always greeted by the civilians, even though many of them were strangers, but he was recognized as the Uchiha clan heir, and was often referred to as the "little Lord". When he was trying to make sense of something, his lips would be pressed firmly into a line and his eyes would narrow. He had inherited his mother's inquisitive nature, and often wouldn't want to move on until he had touched or tasted whatever he was confused about.

Despite his shy yet inquisitive nature, he was a ball of energy when at home. Mikoto could barely keep up with him sometimes, and he was always playing with his wooden animals Grandfather Gyoza had made him, and he loved to swim, so visits to the hot spring with mother or father were always looked forward to.

"Did you lose this?" A baritone voice entered the nursery and in stepped Madara holding a giggling Indra by his leg. The Uchiha clan leader had a small smirk on his face, he was holding his son like a freshly hunted rabbit, and Indra actually enjoyed being held upside down like that. Madara walked over to his wife and lowered the child so that she could scoop him up in her arms.

"He doesn't like wearing clothes," Mikoto said informatively as she quickly slipped a cloth diaper on him followed by black cotton pants.

"Do you need to leave soon?" she asked her husband. Normally by this time of morning he would kiss her goodbye and head off to the administration building. However, today he seemed to be dawdling.

"Hashirama wanted to see me; I'm meeting him at the cliff face in a moment,"

Mikoto's mouth formed a small 'o' shape as she nodded understandably. It wasn't really unusual for Hashirama to want to see his friend privately, but if it was an arranged meeting, then perhaps there would be importance behind it. Mikoto wondered if there were new clans joining the village, or perhaps he had new ideas for the infrastructure. After pulling a shirt over Indra's head, she tapped his bottom and whispered into his ear.

"Go say goodbye to papa,"

There was a reason behind her little command to Indra. Thumb loosely in his mouth, the raven child looked up to his father, his eyes wide and hopeful. Madara watched his son walk over to him expectantly and reach his hands up to the taller man. Madara bent down and hooked his hands under the toddler's shoulders and hoisted him up into his arms. One arm supporting his bottom, while his other hand supported his back. There, Indra's eyes locked with his, and leaned forward slightly. A genuine smile graced Madara's face, and he leaned forward as well and let their foreheads touch lightly.

Mikoto reveled in the sweet silence. It was their thing, their little sweet bonding moment. Madara had very little words to say to his son, because he wasn't the type to coddle him and he wasn't really home long enough to spend a day with him. However, it was the soft touch of their foreheads that gave Indra all the love and comfort a father could give. It was Madara's way of telling his son that he was loved, and everything was right and true in the world. They would often use the silent gesture when saying goodbye to each other and often before bedtime at night. It seemed Indra slept more soundly when his father put him to bed.

It helped Madara as well, as it was all part of the healing process from when he lost Izuna. A dark pit was left in the Uchiha's heart, and Indra was slowly filling that hole. Having something that Madara could pour all of his love into gave the man new hope. He was thankful that Mikoto had provided him with such an outlet. The love from an Uchiha was pure and unconditional, and with Indra being half Uchiha, felt that love too, even if he didn't understand the concept yet as he was so young.

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The wind blew gently around the two figures standing on the cliff face. They had met a while ago, and spent the first few hours reminiscing about past times and their families. Hashirama remarked on how well his son was growing, and even told the Uchiha that he and Mito were planning to have their second child soon. Madara had briefly mentioned the idea to Mikoto a few months back, but she wanted Indra to be a little older before they tried for another baby. Madara was in no hurry at all, but the idea and yearning for a second son did ebb away in his mind.

"Now that our village has grown stronger," Hashirama changed the subject, "it needs a name!"

He turned to his friend who was twiddling a leaf between his gloved fingers. Madara looked down at said leaf. It was a brilliant green, so it was live when it detached from the tree. the hole in the center indicated that possibly beetles or caterpillars had feasted on the leaf. Madara held the leaf curiously up to his eye, where he could see the entire village through the hole. Hashirama waited a moment, watching as Madara was deep in thought.

"Any ideas?" The Senju asked.

"What about," Madara paused, "Konohagakure?"

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