Team Disaster: Origins Of Infamy

Summary: From the day they met to the day they made history, snippets in the lives of Konoha's infamous Team Disaster, their nearest and dearest and the devastation and chaos they cause.

The End Is Where We Begin

To return from Sunagakure after a month long mission of helping their tentative allies fix up a better watering and sewage system to a village that's on complete lock-down due to a break-in and terrorist attack is one thing, but to return from Sunagakure after a month long mission and to learn that not only were his two younger brother's and his father dead, but that one of his teammates was missing was a completely other beast and Tobirama wasn't even sure if what he was doing was smart or not. All he knew was what Mito told him at the gates of the village, awaiting his return with no Madara at her side or anywhere within Konoha's walls, the entire village weeping inside them.

"There was an attack. A large group of ninja managed to sneak in. We still don't know how. We managed to capture one alive - well, Madara caught him and he is alive only thanks to Hiruzen-san, Danzo-san and Kagami-san made it in time to wrench Madara away before he could tear him apart like the others that hadn't managed to escape. They bombed the Academy and the orphanage. They attacked several clans' main houses, assassinating Clan Heads and Heirs. I'm sorry, Tobirama, but Butsuma-sama, Kawarama and Itama didn't make it-"

"The Uchiha?" He had interrupted Mito, not able to think about those deaths at the moment because he would break under the weight of the loss and who would go after Madara then? There was a reason why Mito had stopped him from entering through the gates. If he goes in, they won't let him go out and Madara was definitely out.

Mito had bit her lip, stopping herself from crying for the boys that may as well have been her own brothers and Tobirama had felt another wave of grief trying to consume him. Oh, gods, please don't. How was Madara supposed to- "Uchiha Keichiro, Uchiha Asama and Uchiha Hiroto are dead. They had a swift clean death."

'Fuck, Madara had sensed that!'

"Uchiha Tajima-" Tobirama felt all blood drain from his face. No, no that just can't be. Not the both of them! "Nearly had his eyes gauged out while he was still alive but Ryukyu-sama arrived to help before they could take them. He was swiftly killed before they turned to Ryukyu-sama." The Senju thought his knees would give out under him but he took comfort in the way Mito wasn't using the woman's full name. "She woke up from a coma five hours ago and took over from Madara as Clan Head of the Uchiha."

"How did they take it?" A question he dreaded asking and dreaded even more having answered. Everyone has heard of rumors about how such a loss affected an Uchiha. Tobirama wasn't sure what he expected at this point. Was there anything left of their friends?

"Madara, unfortunately, felt it happen." Of fucking course. The curse of all sensors. The only reason Tobirama hadn't felt anything was because he hadn't been extending his senses to his full capacity while he had to concentrate on other tasks and on keeping his temporary squad safe. "He activated the advanced form of the Sharingan-"

"The Mangekyo? Fuck!"

Mito nodded. Very little was actually known of the evolved form of the doujutsu, only that it eventually led to blindness unless an eye transplant can be made between two related closely by blood. If they also activated it as well, that is.

"He stormed immediately to where they were fighting Ryukyu-sama and then helped Kira-sama deal with her own clutch before moving on to the stragglers that were running away. The whole village felt it as he tore them apart. I think I heard one of the ANBU threw up upon seeing the aftermath after he was removed from the scene. Ryukyu-sama's been ... cold, for the lack of a better word, since she woke up. As for Izuna, he returned home when he felt his brother's killing intent spike, only to find the mangled bodies of Asama and Hiroto. I ... It was awful, Tobirama! I couldn't make out what belonged to whom and Izuna ... He has it too, you know. The Mangekyo ... Sakumo-sensei and Lee-sensei had to knock him out lest he exhaust himself since he didn't know how to control the Mangekyo. He's in the hospital, recovering. Hashirama was put in charge of the tracking units that went after the ones that managed to escape but there are doubts that they'll manage to catch any of them. Not after they saw Madara going through their comrades like that ... "

"And someone actually let him leave the village? In that state?"

Mito had a bitter smile on her lips. "Of course not. Except he gave himself a clan mission and permission to leave the village while he was Acting Clan Head and he snuck out before Konoha was put on lock-down. Tsunade-sama knows, of course, but she didn't send out anyone after him ... Said I was needed here to keep an eye on Ryukyu-sama until he comes back or Izuna wakes up. And since he's using one of our chakra scrambling seals, no one but Minato-sensei or you can track him down."

"But she can't make it an official mission in a time like this so she sent you out here to get me to go after him unofficially and bring him back before anyone finds out," Tobirama finished, frowning but pushing his grief away as he focused on that familiar signature in the distance and resolved to himself to find his teammate before anything could happen to him. "We'll be back by dawn-break."

"Of course you will." Eve without being a sensor, it would have been obvious to him that Mito was trying to reassure herself as well as assert her confidence in him.

Now, not half a night after he had set off from Konoha in search of his friend, heart still aching for the loss but forbidding himself to allow it to cloud his judgement, he finally found Madara. It would have been unsafe to attempt a Hiraishin with how fast Madara was moving and with his signature being scrambled, so Tobirama had employed the speed that he was getting more and more renowned for until he finally caught up to his wayward teammate.

Of course, the scene he came to wasn't exactly pretty. He imagined it was probably a miniaturized scene from any of the three shinobi wars with blood and limbs and weapons and fire and destruction everywhere, only in the center of it all stood a mere kid not yet of fourteen years of age, mercilessly and scarily efficiently ripping the arm off of one of the ninja, a man three times his size and four times his weight by the looks of him. And because Madara had both been cursed and blessed by fate as a strong sensor, even when his attention was completely turned to something else, he felt Tobirama approach from behind him and turned his head just enough that he could look at Tobirama over his left shoulder.

The Senju shivered a little when he was met not with three spinning tomoe, but rather a wheel of sorts formed by the new pattern of the Mangekyo Sharingan shinning like blood in Madara's eyes. There was something eerie about that gaze. The Sharingan could always see more than people gave it the credit for, but Tobirama for the first time felt as though those eyes were seeing completely through him.

"Madara."

"Tobirama." The younger boy winced at the cold tone coloring Madara's voice. It was truly chilling and he hated, absolutely hated the way the usually dancing inferno was still and frozen, none of that scorching heat anywhere in sight. If not for the teen's signature being recognizable even despite that, Tobirama would have thought Madara dead, gone from this world, forever beyond their reach. In a way, if he didn't break him out of this stupor, he will be. The Senju resists swallowing nervously.

He'd never had need to be nervous of Madara before. Not even when they first met. He'd just come to the older boy and had clung to him without remorse or shame.

But the Madara before him was a completely different person right now. Older, stronger, far less naive and grieving as of the second his three younger brothers' chakra signatures flickered out of his awareness once and for all. This Madara was splattered with blood and had the advanced form of his clan's kekkei genkai and was probably stronger than he had ever been before and yet, at the same time, Tobirama knew he had never been so fragile before as he was now. Tobirama feared a single gust of wind would break him to pieces, push him over the edge, lead him straight to insanity.

He'd heard about the Uchiha Curse of Hatred. He feared his friend may fall to that madness, may be lost to it.

Tobirama wasn't going to let him, not when he was still needed. By Ryukyu-sama. By Izuna. By Mito. By the village.

By Tobirama.

"You shouldn't be out here," he settled on opening with. "There was an attack on the village and your clan has been targeted. They need you now, Madara. You need to come back with me."

"They were hired by that organization down in Ame, you know," Madara said almost causally, if his tone wasn't sharp and unforgiving, a hint of his growing insanity showing through. The white haired genin did swallow this time, because he could feel it in Madara's chakra, the rising fury, the hatred. It was suffocating. Did all Uchiha mourn like this? "I interrogated them. Mangekyo sure has some useful tricks to offer. I've never realized how delightfully easy it is to torture someone in mind alone and have them begging for death in seconds. Well, seconds for me, days for them. Tsukuyomi is such a delightful technique."

"Madara-"

"I wish I had these eyes back then. I would have burned that whole place down to its foundations and then some so not even ashes remained." It was hissed out and Tobirama feared that was what Madara was out here doing. He wouldn't make it to Amegakure with the way his new eyes were draining his chakra. He'll collapse or die of chakra exhaustion long before he reaches the border.

"Madara, it wasn't your fault." That was, perhaps, the most important thing Tobirama had to say about the whole matter. Because Madara certainly looked like he didn't agree and was ready to argue about it. Well, too bad. Tobirama had lost his siblings, too, and he just wanted to hold the precious people remaining as close to him as he possibly could and Madara being out here was putting wrenches into his plans. Besides, Madara may need it even more than he did. Madara had been there to feel his brothers dying. And not just Asama, Hiroto and Keichiro. No, Madara had felt his father die, had felt his godfather die, had felt his pseudo younger brothers die when Tajima, Butsuma, Kawarama and Itama followed his three youngest brothers to the Pure Lands. Madara had been alone to feel it and then he had nearly lost his mother, too. Madara definitely needed cuddles the most here. Which was why Tobirama didn't bother to be diplomatic in his speech. He just needed to get Madara back to the village as soon as possible, to get him safe, to remind him that he wasn't alone in this world quite yet, despite the tragedy that had happened. "No, shut up. It wasn't. You had no way of knowing those bastards would attack Konoha or kill so many people. And you can't be expected to do everything. You're still just a kid."

"I was their older brother!" The Uchiha snapped and ... And that was a good thing. That was unbearably a good thing, even if his chakra lashed out at Tobirama and made him feel lightheaded. Gods, such fire bright chakra should never feel so dark. "They were mine to protect! They trusted me to protect them and I failed!"

"There was nothing you could have done." Not judging by what Mito had told him. Madara needed to face that or else he really will go mad. "You're not god, Madara. No one expects you to do everything. No one expects you to be strong for everyone. You did what you could and this time it turned out to be not enough, but it wasn't your fault." He hated the way his friend's breathing hitched. He'd never heard Madara cry before. When he had been younger, he had actually foolishly believed the Uchiha incapable of it because he was so great. As much as he didn't want to see it now ... Well, Madara needed to grieve. Properly grieve, not go hunting down the enemies that had dared resort to things that had not even been done during the Three Great Wars. Attacking children had not been a tactic used since ... Gods, since before Uchiha Itachi and Uzumaki Naruto first started talking about peace. They had made it clear what would happen to those despicable enough to harm children, especially those within clan compounds back in the warring clans era.

No one had ever attempted to slaughter kids within village walls since Konohagakure was first built and set a precedent to the other nations. This was going to shake a lot of things up, spectacularly. No wonder no one even noticed a living furnace like Madara had left the village.

"I should have been there," Madara seemed to insist, more so to himself than Tobirama, and the Senju sighed, stepping closer to his teammate. The strange new pattern in Madara's eyes gave an almost threatening spin but the Uchiha himself seemed desperate for some human contact.

In mimicry of their first ever meeting, Tobirama boldly stepped up to the older boy and drew him into his arms, guiding the slightly taller boy's face to hide inside his white fur collar, tangling his own fingers in dark, lush hair as he tried to impart at least a little bit of comfort on to his friend. "I wish I was. I wish I had been there, for them. For you." It was probably going to star in his nightmares for years to come, the 'what if's and 'could have been's. He held on tighter, selfishly relishing in the way this display of emotions seems to be calming Madara's chakra, stoking the flames, warming it up. He took his own comfort in their embrace, too, especially when he was held back equally as strongly.

"Not your fault, idiot Senju."

"Not anymore than your's, Uchiha moron." They stayed silent for a long while, Tobirama closing his eyes against his own tears when Madara started shaking with sobs, muttering his brother's names and curses at the gods, the Sage, the world. Madara needed this, far more than Tobirama did. Tobirama will get his comfort later, when he allows himself to properly break down, when they are both safe within Konoha's walls and their mothers' embraces. "Please don't do anything stupid. You are needed, by a lot of people. If nothing else, please think of Izuna. He can't lose you, too."

Actually, he was pretty sure Ryukyu-sama would destroy Konoha if anything happened to either of her remaining sons. And that's not even mentioning Ryujin-sama. Otou-san - mother of chakra, Otou-san - had told Tobirama about just how different the contract with the dragon was than with other kyuchiyose. He didn't want to think about what Madara's death could cause, not now.

"I'm too tired to go home," the Uchiha said after several more sobs and Tobirama closed his eyes all over again, this time in relief. Madara ... Madara felt almost like his usual self, only there was a slight taint to his fire. Grief left nasty scars, after all, but the boy was holding himself together. The reminder of Izuna seems to have stabilized him. The half Hatake feared what might happen if any harm were ever to befall the younger Uchiha brother. Youngest, now. Like Tobirama himself, when he had been an older brother just this morning-

'No, stop. Don't think about that right now.' He still needed to get them back to the village. He still needed to face his mother's and brother's grief. There were still funerals to be planned-

"You're allowed to cry too, you know," Madara, who always had the uncanny ability to read Tobirama even when he didn't want to be read at all, said, tugging him closer. "You don't have to bear it all alone. I can hold your weight."

'As if I'd add my own grief to yours,' he wanted to say but didn't. "You can barely stand on your own feet. Stop using the Mangekyo before you faint."

"Sorry." The word was slurred. Yep, Madara was definitely unbearably close to chakra exhaustion. The only reason he had lasted this long was because he naturally had better control than Izuna and had scary chakra reserves. Which may or may not have grown a notch or twelve. A side effect of awakening an advanced form of his doujutsu that required more chakra to activate and maintain, maybe?

At least he deactivated his eyes and slumped a bit more heavily on Tobirama in relief. The younger took the brunt of his weight and looked around the clearing for any and all weaponry that he will need to pick up before they leave. The gunbai, of course, caught his eye first and he had to use his senses to find any possible Hiraishin marked kunai or other weapons around. Luckily, Madara had used only two, obviously not having indulged his more strategic part in his rush to get revenge and information.

Speaking of which ... "When all of this settles, we need to test out the limitations of your Mangekyo Sharingan, what new things you can do with it. I want to hear all about this ... Tsukuyomi and how that helped you gather information. It will be a pleasant distraction for the both of us." He trailed off in that last sentence when he noticed Madara was out like a light, apparently too exhausted to stay awake or dream of anything. Despite it all, the younger teen found it in himself to smile gently, if considerably sadly, down at his friend's resting form. Madara definitely needed that. "Let's get you home, you ridiculous Uchiha." And if he was extra careful and gentle in his landing with the Hiraishin, well, there was no one there to call him out on it.

Of course, the next few days were ... Well, nightmare was too mild a word, all things considered, really. The village was in mourning, none quite as much as the Uchiha. Not even the Senju could get hit that hard. Yes, they were all shinobi, really excellent and competent shinobi, but the Uchiha ... Well, everyone always knew that the Uchiha felt things differently. Their sorrow and rage and helplessness at the funeral nearly suffocated Tobirama and probably Mito and Minato-sensei as well. The worst part was that they couldn't even rely on their usual comfort in Madara because he, Izuna and Ryukyu-sama were the worst off. People had been watching the sky as if waiting for something to fall on their heads and Tobirama knew they were actually expecting Ryujin-sama to descend from the heavens and take his humans away, possibly their entire clan, too. Instead, only light rain fell on grieving faces as the deceased were honored in a large funeral. Dozens of coffins, far too many far too small for anyone's comfort, either with o without any specific clan symbols, were lined up and lowered into the ground or burned depending on which tradition which clan followed more.

It was painful watching Madara, Izuna and Ryukyu-sama force themselves through the movements when they started the large pyre for their fallen family and then the smaller ones for any other Uchiha that had been an unfortunate victim of the attempted invasion.

So far, only Madara knows the motives behind what had happened and the Uchiha was tight-lipped. Tsunade-sama was letting it pass for now as it was a trying time for them all and pissing off the first person who had awakened the Mangekyo Sharingan in a hundred years was not advisable. Not when Madara had no real control of it beyond it reacting to his intense emotions. (Izuna, too, was greatly admired and pitied for having awakened that power as well, but he seemed to be having general problems with even activating the advanced form of the Sharingan at this time. A relief to many, as it meant one less insanely powerful teenager to worry about.) There was little doubt in anyone's mind that the Uchiha will be thoroughly questioned when his emotions settle a little. It's not exactly as if he will forget anything. (The cruelty of the Sharingan's immortal memory in this particular case.)

The Senju still mourned their own losses, even if not so overwhelmingly as the Uchiha did. Tobirama had never seen his mother this withdrawn and cold, in particular, but she seems to have a support system in Ryukyu-sama, drawing back on a decades long friendship to keep the both of their heads above the currents of loss and grief. Touka, who had also been outside of the village when this shit went down, had decimated half of a training field before falling into an exhausted near coma when she heard. Her jaw and fists remained tightly clenched throughout the funeral.

Hashirama ... Hashirama had to be taken to the Forest of Death, the only training ground that could withstand his outbursts of emotion, even if the terrain changed significantly after that. It had been the only alternative to him seeking out Madara and the two of them going all out until the pain they inflict on each other's bodies could overwhelm the pain of losing their younger brothers. No one doubted that the two of them will eventually seek each other out, but they had been needed in the funeral preparations and the general aftermath of the tragedy to really indulge.

Mito kept her composure as best as she could and seemed surprised when the Uchiha invited her to properly mourn with them, declaring her family even if not in blood. That had perhaps made the loss even more intense and real but she stood by them as the pyres burned, a silent support to Madara on one side and to Hashirama on her other side as his Anija fought back tears. Their father wouldn't have wanted them to cry over him, would have thought that the highest form of respect his sons could possibly give him would be dry cheeks at his funeral for he was a seasoned shinobi and death was as much a part of their life as breathing. They'd already cried over Itama and Kawarama enough to have no tears left, anyway. Senju Butsuma would understand those tears. He would have shed them himself had he lived to see his two youngest buried.

Tobirama stood at his Anija's side as a silent comfort as well, just like Izuna was on Madara's, all but leaning on the older Uchiha brother. Tobirama kept to himself, though. He knew he would be at his breaking point soon and he hated losing control of his emotional reactions in public. It was unnecessary, he knew, as the rain would hide his tears and everyone else was crying, anyway, so it wouldn't even matter or catch anyone's attention. He still resisted, he resisted even when the last of the flames flickered out and the last shovel of dirt was put over the fresh graves. He refused to shed tears even as people washed their hands with salt and indulged in whatever other purifying post-funerary rituals they had. He refused even as the village gathered in the big tent set up to host the feast in the fallen's honor.

He didn't cry even as Kira had to hold a wailing Ryukyu-sama in one corner of the room, even as Kushina-sama held Mito tight against her side, even as Touka put a hand on Izuna's shoulder, even as Hashirama let more tears slide down his face that neither of them had thought he had left, as he clutched desperately at his mother's free hand so that they cried together.

But then red eyes met black and Tobirama broke. Like an unforgiving current, the grief tried to drown him, repeatedly, again and again ducking his head under its waves and he sobbed brokenly even as he was guided into a familiar chest, even as he focused all of his senses on that inferno that seemed perfectly capable of turning all of that watery grief into steam that will never quite evaporate, but instead linger in a much lighter form. He cried even as he felt tears slide into his own silver hair as Madara joined him in their mourning for the brothers they had lost, of blood or not, of the father that had left them. They cried and clung to each other even as the rest of their remaining family all gathered around them, even Hikaku, who had been keeping a respectful distance so as not to intrude, and they all collapsed and cried together, leaning on each other.

00000

By the next day's dawn-break, the only one still standing was and eerily still Madara, supporting two families that had always felt as extensions of a bigger one, broken and grieving and utterly exhausted. Red eyes glittered in the rising sun as the moon went to bed on the opposite sides of the horizon, their new pattern spinning and spinning and spinning ...

No one was awake to see the bloody tears slide down pale cheeks as a behemoth of chakra raised from a child to shield the two families as he finally slipped into tired sleep.