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 33

Heavy

They would have preferred a small gathering, but the reception and turnout was overwhelming for the Uchiha matriarch. Many came to pay their respects to the young Lord and his parents, wishing them well and sincere condolences. It was a beautiful, but bittersweet sight. A small casket lay in the temple with the Uchiha emblem painted on the sides, while a purple Uchiha banner was draped elaborately over the top. Sitting atop the casket was a portrait of Indra in memorial. Around the casket was an elaborate display of flowers in an array of colors, though predominately white. They were offerings from other villagers and decorated the altar.

Mikoto couldn't look at the photo, or the casket. She kept her eyes downcast to the wooden floor as she listened to the monk hum a prayer and burn incense in front of Indra's casket. It had been two days since her son lost his life to the rogue shinobi, and in those two days she hadn't said a word to anyone, not even Madara. She only sat in Indra's room, holding the teddy bear and staring absently at the floor, waiting for him to come home. It felt like the young boy was going to burst through the door and fling himself into his mother's arms at any moment. However, she knew deep down, that wasn't going to happen ever again.

She didn't eat; she barely slept, and had only bathed once briefly. She spent the first twelve hours pointing blame on Hashirama and Madara, saying they weren't there to protect their sons, and they were useless as men and fathers. The men allowed her to vent her anger and frustration towards them, because she was a mother grieving. She thought of different scenarios in her mind, what if she and Madara hadn't fought that night? Why didn't Madara find him sooner? Why?

Why?

That question rang through her mind more times than she could count. Why did it have to be her son to pass away? Bitterness swelled in her heart. Why couldn't that Senju boy be the one to get killed? Mito had two more anyway. It was that kind of thinking that made Mikoto shut herself off from society, especially any affiliation with the Senju. Yuna had informed her that Mito had tried to visit multiple times, but Mikoto refused to receive her. The young Senju matriarch understood, but she only wanted to console her friend.

Above all, she reveled in the fact that the shinobi responsible for this were killed by the very boy they had taken from her.

The day after the attack, Hashirama had a private word with his son, and pressed him for an explanation on what had happened. What the Hokage had discovered shocked him. The young Uchiha had died a hero, Hashirama felt a wave of both guilt and pride was through him as he listened to Ryou recount exactly what had happened. A few details were sparse, as the incident was fresh in the boy's mind and so memory would be shot for a while. However, he recounted the part where Indra had used his fireball jutsu to fend off the enemy, and then block a killing intent from them which was their last attempt to spite the boys.

Indra had sacrificed his own life to protect his friend, a true symbol of friendship and comradery, and a will that Hashirama hoped would pass to the next generation. Hashirama had to comfort Ryou after that, the boy didn't want to leave his father's side and constantly blamed himself. Such blame should not rest on an eight year old's shoulders. Hashirama had to console him constantly, reminding him that no one could have predicted what had happened, and it wasn't his fault.

The Hokage's mind wandered to Madara. He was the one Hashirama was worried about the most.

Madara had gone on a rampage, to put it simply. He had destroyed a newly built tea house and then left the village walls to only have reports return to Hashirama of a man burning down forests and slaughtering any enemy shinobi he found. As always, Madara could never handle death, especially since it was someone so close to him, someone he had created, held, and watch grow from infancy. What made the Hokage's heart sink was that Mito had informed him that the Uchiha couple was still not able to conceive another child. It wasn't that Indra could be easily replaced, but instead any chance of a glimmer of happiness in their lives was gone.

Brown eyes eventually focused back into the real world, and Mikoto could hear behind her the gentle sobs of the mourners. She and Madara remained silent and still the entire service. It was a moment that was far too surreal for them. They were still coming to terms with the fact that it was just the two of them again, alone in the world. It was them versus everyone else. She could hear Mei and Tsume sob their innocent hearts out for their nephew, while her father just stood there with his head bowed solemnly.

As the monk finished chanting his prayers and blessings over the casket, many shinobi and civilians alike stepped forward one by one to lay wreaths and light candles at the base of the casket. Mikoto never knew how much Indra had affected everyone around him. He was a kind and gentle soul, just like his mother, but he possessed his father's courage, selflessness, and protective instinct. Many had come to the parents to reminisce on how they had contact with Indra. One elderly woman in particular mentioned that he and Ryou would carry her groceries for her, while the baker said the young Uchiha would chop firewood for him in exchange for a sweet bun.

The ceremony had ended, and many mourners left the temple quietly and solemnly, still reflecting on the young Uchiha's life and the tragic circumstance his parents had faced. Mito and Hashirama remained behind with Ryou; their son was not ready to leave his friend's side yet. It was the first time the young Senju boy had endured loss, and he wasn't handling it very well. Ryou wept into the sleeve of his father's Haori, and the Hokage stood there and allowed this, his hand resting gently on his son's head as the young boy sobbed. His younger brother and sister remained at home, as they were too young to comprehend the situation.

It was Mito who broke the somber silence.

"Please," she walked over to Mikoto and Madara, her eyes glazed with unfallen tears and her hands rested gently on either adult's shoulders, "Please look after each other,"

Mikoto finally managed to rasp out a response after going days without saying a word.

"Thank you," her eyes were still downcast, Mito knew the gratitude was forced. She didn't expect any form of sincerity from the now distant Uchiha matriarch. There was an air of coldness about her, an air that sent shivers down Mito's spine. Her eyes were full of resentment and Mito knew that the woman's heart was also full of grief and sorrow. It will be a sad era for the Uchiha clan.

At dusk, the couple walked silently home, noticing that outside each Uchiha home a small candle was lit either in a paper lantern or in a small glass. They knew this was in mourning of the young heir. Such sorrow hadn't befallen the clan since Izuna Uchiha died.

Yuna had entered their bedroom with a tray containing two bowls of miso ramen.

"My lord, and lady," the older woman started, "please eat something,"

Mikoto looked over to the old woman from her vanity, and dismissively waved her hand towards the small table. Mikoto was in no mood to eat, nor was she in any mood to even perform her nightly rituals of brushing her hair or applying a jasmine ointment to her hand. She could see in the mirror the faint outline of Indra by the door, his warm gaze lowered shyly as he asked his mother if he could brush her hair again. Mikoto's eyes lit up for the briefest moment, but as she watched the outline of Indra walk towards her through the mirror, he disappeared. Only a vision and reality sunk back in.

Madara looked over to his wife, a bottle of sake dangling lazily in his left hand. He waited until Yuna had left the room before he took one more swig of the hot liquid.

"Peace," he spat acidly, "peace is unachievable,"

She was listening, but remained silent.

"If the clan had just listened to me and left the village when we could, this would not have happened,"

Mikoto's eyes turned sharp, "Are you blaming the clan for this?"

"I'm blaming this whole fucking village!" Madara shouted.

She winced at his words. Placing blame on anyone wasn't going to make the situation any better. They had lost their son, a tragic circumstance to befall any adult. Their best chance as Mito had told Mikoto time and time again, was to move on but never forget him. Would Indra want his parents to wallow in self-pity?

Words couldn't reach Mikoto's mouth again, and she could only listen to her husband speak, it was the most they had talked since the day their son was killed.

"Hashirama and I don't see eye to eye anymore," he gritted his teeth in disgust, "the Uchiha have grown soft and defenseless, I will not sit here and watch my clan become subordinate dogs,"

Mikoto finally spoke, "So what will you do?"

Countless times he had tried to convince the Uchiha that staying in the village was a bad idea, and countless times he was rejected, some Uchiha even declaring him mad. He had lost them; he finally came to terms with the simple fact that he had lost the Uchiha clan's respect and loyalty. Many answered to Hashirama, even Airi had gone against him and reported solely to Hashirama. Anger boiled within him, the hate spewed from the depths of his soul and clouded his mind he was so angry he could barely see straight.

He looked up at his wife.

"I'm done," he said as he stood up, "I will leave the village,"

Mikoto looked at him wide-eyed; of course the death of their son affected him greatly, to a point where he drank more than he could carry. However, she didn't think it would tip him over the edge to a point where he would leave the village.

"You can't be serious!"

"There is no place for me here anymore," he muttered as he dropped the empty sake bottle, the clash it made echoed in the room followed by the lazy sound of it rolling across the wooden floor.

"What about the clan? What about me?"

Madara sighed. Of course, what about his wife? He knew he needed to leave the village before things became worse. He knew if he stayed any longer then it was possible another Uchiha would get hurt, or even killed. He looked at her, she was so beautiful. She was his grace, his light, and everything he held dear was kept within her. She was that brief moment in time where he felt like he was in true bliss, and he had no trouble in the world. He had to protect her.

"You will stay here, and look after the clan," he declared, "They love you,"

"No," Mikoto said defiantly as she stood from her vanity, "I will come with you, we can be vagabonds, living off the earth, we don't need this,"

Her prattling was annoying, he wasn't about to escape with her and have a romantic, nomadic life with anyone. He needed to be alone; he needed to be away from her for her protection. He could be deemed a traitor, and with that there could be a bounty on his head. He will not let Mikoto have the same fate.

"Shut up, woman!" he barked at her, interrupting her rambling. "You will stay in the village,"

"I won't let you leave me alone, I won't survive," tears fogged her vision, as she suddenly thought of the idea of her husband leaving her right after their son was taken from her. She approached him, staggering across the floor and collapsed in his arms. The tears flowed freely from both grief and fear. She couldn't be left alone, not at a time like this. She fisted his yukata, holding on for dear life, begging him not to leave her alone in the world. However, he had to. He had to before anyone else got hurt.

He reached his hand out and touched her cheek, "I love you," he said to her softly.

Before she could react, she saw his eyes turn red and the three tomoe spin dangerously. Her world went black.

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"Mikoto!"

That voice.

"Mikoto!"

So familiar.

"Mikoto! Wake up!"

The woman groaned before allowing her eyes to split open ever so slightly.

"Airi?"

Said woman helped the matriarch to sit up. Airi had recently returned from a half-day mission, something she thought inappropriate due to the recent loss, but the Hokage woefully insisted that the village still needed to run and maintain balance. Hashirama couldn't take the time off to be with Ryou during this difficult time, and the workload was so vast Tobirama wouldn't be able to handle it all with ease. Selfishness was not an attitude the Hokage could afford.

Airi had entered the Uchiha leader's home to pay her respects and to check her cousins were emotionally supporting each other and taking care of themselves. She had brought a container of dumplings and rice cakes as well for them to snack on. However, the Uchiha Jonin was met with a weary Yuna sitting on the floor against the wall, her head in her hands. When Airi asked what was wrong, Yuna couldn't tell her. Instead, Yuna only looked in the direction of the master bedroom. Airi dropped the container of food and sprinted over there. Opening the sliding door she found the room to be in one piece, and Mikoto lay on the ground, her head resting on a pillow with a blanket strewn over her. Something wasn't right.

"What happened?" Airi asked quickly.

Memories came flooding back, and Mikoto shot up, startling her cousin and causing a wave of nausea to wash over her. Madara, that bastard! He had used his sharingan to put her into a deep comatose state so that he wasn't met with any more resistance from Mikoto while he…

While he left.

Mikoto hung her head for a moment, and then attempted to stand slowly, with Airi assisting her. Looking out the window, Mikoto could see that the sun was high in the sky, it was probably around noon. She had been unconscious for a while, long enough for Madara to make his presence sparse. She felt utter betrayal and hurt rip through her being. Her heart stung and her stomach churned. Was she ever going to see her husband again? Losing the two most important males to her in her life made her wonder if she was even going to be able to last much longer sanity wise.

"I need to see Hashirama," She rasped as Airi helped her dress decently into a simple blue yukata.

They had reached the office where Hashirama was already expecting Mikoto. He had asked his younger brother to leave the room while he talked to the Uchiha matriarch. She watched as the white haired Senju sent her a small glare, and she could see a flicker of emotion in his usually stoic eyes. She couldn't place it, but it was between anger and annoyance. Something was wrong.

"I knew you would come," Hashirama's gaze lowered to the floor as he recalled the previous night's events.

"I'm sorry," he said, "but I couldn't stop your husband, my friend,"

Madara had sought out Hashirama after leaving the Uchiha district. They met just outside the academy, and from there Madara led him to a dark, cold basement where a stone tablet sat at the very back wall. Surrounding the tablet on the walls were painted histories dating back past the Senju and Uchiha, back to the days of Kaguya. Only, to Hashirama they looked like simple etchings. Madara on the other hand, knew full well the story and significance of the images. It was all explained on the tablet.

Hashirama tried. He tried his hardest to reason with Madara, to talk him into staying, but it seemed the loss of his son and his waning leadership over the Uchiha had caused his mind to become clouded. The Hokage had to question if he even loved Mikoto anymore. the woman didn't deserve such emotional torment and Hashirama made a point to tell Madara this. However, upon turning his back Madara spoke acidly.

"She will be better off without me,"

"Where did he go?" Mikoto choked as she sat on the red cushioned couch and placed her head in her hands. She felt so weak, the effects of Madara's jutsu on her were still restricting her movement and train of thought. Was she going to see him again? She would pray to the gods every day to let him return to her.

Hashirama went rigid.

"I don't know," the Hokage paused, wondering how he should continue, "but he made disturbing declarations to me last night, I fear he may be branded a traitor by the fire Daimyo,"

Being branded a traitor meant that he would be killed on sight if he ever returned to the village. Mikoto knew this, as they had to reluctantly place the black mark on people's names before. Her breath hitched in her throat, and tears swelled up in her eyes.

"I don't know what to do," she admitted through her sobs.

Hashirama kneeled down in front of her and placed a hand on her shoulder, "Look after the Uchiha in his stead, I will relieve Airi of missions so she can assist you," he advised.

"I don't want to," she snapped at him selfishly, almost reminding him of a teenage brat, "I want him back, I want to throttle some sense into him!" Her anger flared, and just like Mito, she was a fearsome thing to behold when her anger was set loose. Just like Mito.

Hashirama tensed at her outburst, and as she settled into the seat, he tightened his grip on her.

"I promise I will do everything I can to bring him back to you," he said, brown eyes bore into her chocolate ones with determination and uncertainty.

"Not as Hokage, but as his friend,"

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R&R please!

I do apologize for the long wait for the update! Work has been crazy lately and I've been too exhausted to write! I try to do small snippets every day until the chapter is complete.

Enjoy!