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

Summary: The cost of war was unavoidable. The fisherman village could barely sustain itself, and so she was sold to a mercenary clan. Watch how Hanako struggled to not only find her place, but also survive the power struggle within the Senju clan. Pre-Konoha, slight AU, TobiramaxOC. Rated M just to be safe.

oooooo

Hanako

Her head felt like it was going to split in two.

Over the last few days, Hanako felt herself drift between consciousness and complete blackness. The few times she managed to regain some consciousness, she could barely even see any faces around her nor could she even feel her body. She was numb, just a shell that had been tossed around until she finally ended up in the cold damp cell. She remembered hearing voices, but their words were lost to her. She remembered red, and white, and black, but after that there was nothing.

With her eyes still heavy, she opened them slowly and blinked. The first thing she felt was of course the searing pain that stabbed away at her skull, and next was the numbness of her toes from the cold, damp floor. The cold trailed up her ankles but stopped at her knees where her kimono provided some form of warmth. She curled her fingers, trying to get a feel for the environment. The floor was rough and dirty.

She didn't have the strength or the willpower to lift herself up from her position on her stomach just yet. Her cheek rested flat against the floor, and her face and hair was stained with mud. She hissed as she took in a breath, the cold air stung her lungs as she drew in dense, crisp air. She found her breathing jagged and shallow at first, she had to mentally force herself to take in longer, deeper breaths.

She struggled to focus on any of her senses. She could only feel cold and the throbbing headache that came with the wound on her forehead. She could feel the dry blood that had caked around her forehead flake off with each beat of her eyelash and twitch of her head.

Looking around, she saw only what appeared to be a dark cell. There was the occasional dripping noise coming from the corner, but it was in fact the silence that made the most noise. It was eerily quiet, too quiet to be any form of jail or holding cell. Slowly, Hanako lifted her cheek from the ground and slowly surveyed her surroundings.

Sure enough, the cell was empty save for a rusty old chamber pot in the corner and a stack of hay made into a makeshift bed. She opened her mouth and slowly licked her lips. She was parched; her mouth craved almost any form of liquid. Her tongue and lips were drier than bone and she felt that her lips had cracked from days of remaining still.

She braved through her searing headache to use every muscle in her body to haul herself up onto her torso. She struggled at first as she brought her arms underneath her chest to lift herself up. Each muscle was aching and each joint cracked like it hadn't been moved for days. Her neck and shoulders were sore from lying in the same position for so long, and her knees and ankles felt stiff.

How long had she been out for exactly?

More importantly, where was she?

She shifted her legs underneath her body and managed to sit up clumsily. She felt groggy and a little nauseous, but it didn't stop her from attempting to take in her surroundings. The room was dark and damp. The grey stone walls were cracked and bore stains that Hanako could only guess was blood. When she saw this coupled with the dry, aged bones scattered on the floor, panic set in.

She felt her heart pump in her chest and her palms became sweaty. All focus and stability on her breathing left her as she began to pant nervously. She wrung her hands as the anxiety began to manifest in her mind. Questions and fears wracked her mind, sending her almost insane. What had happened to her? How long had she been out? Who were her captors?

The walls were windowless. She couldn't even tell what time of day it was, or whether it was even night time. She swallowed thickly as she could feel her throat cry out for water, and in no time her stomach churned with both uncertainty and hunger. The last time she ate or drank was when she was with Mito eating fruits and sipping water. Then, her mind slowly wandered back to the events that led her to the cell, and she wondered whether Mito made it back to the Senju village.

A chill went down Hanako's spine as she remembered the severed head inside the cart. That and the gruesome sight of watching the guards get slaughtered in front of her as well as seeing Mito impale the man who had almost stopped them from getting away on the horse. Her stomach began doing summersaults at the memories. It was all so vivid that Hanako wished it was a dream. However, her situation felt very real. She silently prayed to any and every deity that Mito was safe. No doubt the woman would be distraught to know that Hanako was no longer there. What if they thought she was dead?

What if Tobirama thought she was dead?

That thought alone gave her the motivation to hoist herself up onto her aching feet. She wobbled slightly before reaching her left arm out to touch the cold wall for support. With her palm pressed against the wall, she bent over slightly and rested her free hand on her knees to soothe her joints. Hanako puffed a little as she took a step forward towards what appeared to be the door to the cell.

The front of her cell was made up of thick black bars that stood vertically. They reached from the ground to the roof, and Hanako looked down to see the lock which could only indicate where the door was. It sat just off center with a large iron ring that acted as a handle. She eyed it off wearily before reaching out to touch it.

It was cold and hard, the way iron should be. She shivered at the touch, but quickly gave the bars a slight shake in hopes they kept it unlocked thinking she was unconscious. Why her captors would do such a thing was beyond her, but she could only hope for some form of miracle. Her only mission at that moment was to try to escape and get back to the Senju village.

She rattled the bars a few more times to look for a weak spot, anything that she could exploit and try to get herself out, but there was just no avail. She slumped slightly against the door and let out a sob that echoed through the halls. She gasped inwardly at the sudden noise, because the echo could have very easily alerted other guards or prisoners that she was awake.

After a short moment, her fears became a reality when she noticed the left part of the corridor gleam with a soft golden light. She stood her ground as her tired blue eyes languidly stared off down the corridor, trying to get a better view of who was approaching. Fear ebbed away in the pit of her stomach, but she had the nagging thought that if she wasn't useful to them or important, they would have probably killed her already.

Her hands gripped the black bars so tightly that her knuckles turned white. With a half-angered look she silently stared at the shadows against the wall. There were two of them, and male voices could be heard slowly getting louder. They were both males. Hanako watched as they rounded into view.

Both men had dark ebony hair with eyes to match. She couldn't make out their features well enough to distinguish their faces, but she glanced at the emblem that was stamped onto their chest armor. Her blue eyes widened. The emblem was of a red and white fan. From her experience, they looked like low born shinobi. She remembered that Tobirama commented on the different styles of armor used to determine a shinobi's rank. These men's armor appeared dull and grey, and offered only basic protection. She couldn't help but notice the high collared shirts they wore underneath the simple chest plate.

"Ah, she's finally awake," One of the guards said. His voice was deep and baritone.

"She's probably hungry," the other commented. He sounded much younger than the first man.

"Our orders were to bring her straight to Lord Madara when she is awake."

"Not even a little bit of water first?"

There was a sigh, followed by a clicking of the tongue as Hanako was sure that the older man had rolled his eyes at the younger male. The woman in her was somewhat grateful the younger man thought of her wellbeing, but she wasn't expecting any form of kindness, not from Uchiha. She stood silently, staring the two guards down with anticipation. She didn't want to show them her fear, but inside she was trembling. Just who was this Madara, and what did he want with her?

"Get back, girl!" Barked the older man as he reached out the palm of his hand and banged it against the iron bars.

Startled, Hanako yelped and stepped backwards instinctively, but in the course of doing so she lost her footing and ended up landing on her thigh with her feet out in front of her. She used her hands to steady herself on the floor as she helplessly watched the man open the cell door and walk inside with the younger man in tow.

"We've been instructed to bring you to our leader," the baritone voice said flatly.

"Come quietly and you won't get hurt," Young man offered.

"What… What do you want with me?" Hanako rasped as she could feel herself choke back tears.

"We don't even know," the younger one said, "Our leader doesn't normally concern himself with whelps like you."

The next thing Hanako knew, she was being hauled to her feet by the larger man.

"Come on girl, get up." he barked.

"Stop it," Hanako cried, "Let me go, please!"

"Our orders come from Lord Madara."

Where had she heard that name before?

It was so familiar, and the way it rolled off his tongue so eloquently made the Lord in question out to be someone not to be reckoned with. She frowned as the two men began to haul her through the dark hallway and to a flight of stairs. Her mind was too busy rattling off and asking itself just where she had heard his name from before. Hashirama had mentioned it in passing a few times, and she knew that he was the rival of the great Senju prince. However, there was a deep inkling now that she was going to be brought to him, that she had heard his name far before that.

"Walk up the stairs or else you'll get carried," the baritone voice broke through the sound of her struggling.

If she was going to be carried, she didn't doubt that he would try to place his hands further than where they were needed. She would have none of that. Hanako stood still and waited for the guards to stop jostling her about at the base of the stairs. Then, with her arms secured behind her back by the second guard, she slowly began climbing the steps behind the larger man.

"I have nothing you want," Hanako tried to reason, "I'm not anyone important."

The soldier securing her arms scoffed, "If you were no one important," he said, "Then you would have been killed already."

"Well, with eyes and hair like hers, she would probably be passed around first…" the first guard laughed and he earned himself a frown from the younger man. He noticed Hanako started to panic since she had missed a step and almost ended up face first on the stairwell.

"Don't scare her, idiot."

The home of the Uchiha was much different to the Senju. While the Senju lived in a peaceful village with wooden walls and gates with farms and training grounds, the Uchiha village was more like a dense town hidden within a stronghold. There seemed to be little greenery in the courtyard as Hanako passed a tall window. It was all cobble and stone with a few carefully placed trees, shrubs, and pond.

Inside was much darker and colder. The ceilings were high and the walls of every room were elaborately decorated with the Uchiha banner as well as a selection of weapons and armor was on display. The Senju and Uchiha were so different with their living arrangements. There were small clusters of houses that were where the shinobi and their families lived. The Senju village had houses spaced apart with gardens and vegetables growing. The entire Uchiha stronghold seemed to uphold a military demeanor; she remembered being told that structure and discipline were their ways.

There were very few people around, and they all seemed to have similar features. The most prominent of them all were the dark onyx colored eyes. Each pair she met bored into her like black holes. She found it difficult to look away, but she remembered being told to never look an Uchiha in the eyes, so as soon as she came in eye contact with one she had to force herself to look away. For the time being, she kept her gaze to the floor, and she walked barefooted like a monkey along the red carpet until they halted at a shogi door.

"My lord, we've brought the Senju girl as you requested," the deep voice of the older shinobi brought her back to reality, and she jerked her head up quickly.

There was a long pause.

"Enter," was all she could hear from behind the shogi. The voice was smooth, eloquent, and almost hypnotic.

The shogi door was pulled open by the guard, and Hanako was instantly pushed inside. She wanted to turn around and correct them on their error. She wasn't a Senju, but her desire for self-preservation overcame such a trivial thing and she kept herself quiet and still, moving only when they wanted her to. After just three steps into the room, Hanako found herself shoved to the floor. She yelped loudly and braced herself for the impact. Her knees hit the ground first and then they were quickly followed by her hands. She was being forced to bow to him, bow to the Uchiha leader who was responsible for her capture and the attack. She made a silent pact to reveal to him nothing, because It was likely that he wanted Senju secrets.

Madara stared down at her, his dark gaze never leaving her as she slowly positioned herself on her knees, kneeling in front of the Uchiha clan leader. She was small and feeble. Her gold-auburn hair was mattered and her face was marred with dirt and sand from lying in that dungeon too long. He should have had his guards make her bathe before she was presented to him, but he needed answers.

"What is your name?" He asked smoothly. Hanako didn't dare look up at him. Her cerulean orbs pricked with tears as she stared at his feet. They were covered with white socks to protect them from the cold wooden floor.

She remained silent.

"You are not dumb, girl." The first guard roused on her as he pushed her forward slightly by the shoulder.

Still, she was silent. Madara narrowed his eyes. Was it out of fear, or was it due to utter insubordination? Either way, she will answer him.

"We can do this the easy way, or the fun way." Madara said to her as he folded his hands behind his back. The fun way was through his sharingan. He only needed to catch her gaze for a second and she would be under his genjutsu. She would be put through a torture that felt so real, but really it was all in her head. He could have her screaming and clutching her head to rip her hair out if he wanted to. A shame if it came to that though, because she had such pretty hair.

Hanako swallowed thickly, not wanting to provoke him.

"Hanako," she said softly, barely louder than a whisper.

"I have one question for you Hanako," Madara said acidly, "Your answer will determine your fate. I could kill you right here, or you could be spared and set to work."

Hanako frowned upon hearing this. What could she have possibly done to warrant that kind of question from him? She felt like looking up at him inquisitively, but her inner gut told her to keep staring at the floor. She waited patiently, silently, for his question.

Madara, sensing he would have a difficult time getting an answer out of her, spoke very slowly.

"Where did you get this?"

She had to force herself to look up, because she had to see what exactly 'this' was. Her eyes wandered to his face briefly. He had sharp features, much different from the rounded baby face Tobirama and his brother possessed. His eyes were narrow and his lips pressed into a thin line. Above all, he looked fearsome simply due to the mass of unruly hair behind him. His hair was longer than Hashirama's, and it fell at his waist just where his orange sash was tied around him. He was a handsome man, but there was something in his eyes and the way he presented himself that made her instantly afraid of him. It was like a dark unseen force that he could unleash whenever he wanted. Was he a tyrant? Probably not. However, when provoked, Hanako didn't doubt he was a relentless force.

Her thoughts were cut short as she drifted her sight to his hand. Dangling from his closed fist was the very pendent that was given to her by a black haired boy almost eight years ago. Hanako let out a faint gasp and reached to her neck instinctively. There was no silver chain or heavy weight against her neck, her own necklace was gone and it was no doubt being held by a rather inquisitive and irritated Madara Uchiha.

"I don't remember." Hanako said quickly.

"This is not a common piece," Madara explained, "They were crafted from white gold and were given to the children of Tajima and Mura Uchiha."

"They were buried with each sibling as they fell, so how do you possess one?"

"I don't remember," she repeated.

Madara rounded on her, kneeling to her level and gripping her by her hair.

"I won't be made a fool of," he hissed in her ear.

He knew she was being coy, but she really couldn't be that stupid that she couldn't remember where such a valuable item came from. It was some miracle that it was in her possession. A passionate anger flared in his eyes as he watched her squirm under his grip. She tried to jerk her head away from him, but she ended up just yelping and hurting herself in the process. He had to know where she got it from; he had to know so that he could return it to its rightful owner. Did it belong to Asuna? Kichiro? His younger siblings passed away a long time ago, both were killed in battle by the Senju. Perhaps this witch took it as a prize.

Did it belong to Izuna? It was unlikely, because the youngest of his siblings told him that his own pendant was kept safe and hidden. The jewels were made from the rarest of jewels as gifts to Tajima's children. All five of them were bestowed such precious items so that they would never forget their bonds as a family. As long as they had their necklaces, they had each other. Each pendant made them feel connected to one another, even after their parents had perished and each sibling began to fall.

He should send her to Izuna for answers. The young man may not have complete use of his sharingan, but he knew a trick or two when it came to the mind. Izuna was a master at manipulation and control, which was the gift his sharingan gave him. It was inherited to him from their mother. He used his sharingan to get inside people's heads. From there, he could see their memories and thoughts. If he had full use of his sharingan, he could erase said memories and even plant new ones in their place.

Izuna had never been the same since a particular encounter, one that left him alive, but he had lost usage of his sharingan. He could never use it to its full potential anymore, because he needed both eyes to be able to perform at his maximum ability. It was at the hands of a rather bothersome Senju that Izuna found himself almost killed. However, thanks to Madara's quick intervention, Izuna managed to escape with his life.

Madara looked back to the girl, his grip on her hair tightened the more she squirmed and wriggled under him. Normally he would have his shinobi perform this sort of interrogation. However, the nature and circumstances surrounding this woman made him feel the need to be rough with her. She possessed what was to him a family secret, a gem that was passed down from his parents to him and his four siblings. She didn't deserve to have it, and he wanted to kill her just out of spite to the Senju. He wasn't sure how exactly she was related to the tree-hugging Senju in the forest, but he didn't care, that would come later. For now, his concern was the pendant. The only reason he wanted her brought to him was so that she would confess to her stealing it and he could justly end her miserable life.

"I know you are being coy," he stated, "Did you steal it from my brother's grave? Did you take it from him when he was taking his dying breath?"

"No!" Hanako shivered under his deathly stare.

"Then tell me who gave it to you?!"

Her breath hitched in her throat, and she dared to look him in the eye.

"You did."

XXXXXXXXXX

Hanako! Yay!

She is alive, but not doing too well it seems! Madara is married in my story and I just want to mention that this story does not follow canon.

I'm so happy that I've cracked 400 reviews! Thank you all so much for the support!

Please tell me what you think!

R&R and happy reading!