Out of Time

by Mari-kel

After the latest space-time jutsu backfires sending two twelve-year-old founders to modern Konoha, Yamato gets his own unique genin team comprised of a ghost, a god, and an assassin. The timeline will never be the same, especially once Team 7 gets involved. - HashiMada. Time-travel AU. Mischievous!Hashirama. (Mini)Sensei!Madara. Rated M for violence and language.

1. Chapter 1: Arrival

AN: Cross-posted from AO3. This fic was originally a 30K one-shot that spiraled completely out of control. That said, because it was a one-shot, the ship does get more or less established by the end of this chapter. The boys are very affectionate with one another, but their relationship remains appropriate for their age.

This fic will feature heavy divergences from canon as it progresses and I've taken the liberties of tweaking individual powers (mangekyou, hiraishin, chakra control, etc.) and focusing on a lot of worldbuilding to try and balance and flesh things out a bit better. There's also no reincarnation/charka migration in this AU. Ashura and Indra are ancestors and nothing more. Individual chapter ANs will address changes where necessary.

Anyway, final thing please note that this is a time-travel fic, not a "time-travel fix-it." It is my firm, and slightly fanatical, belief that time travel is the devil's bargain/monkey's paw/genie's wish of fix-it fics. There's also a slight deviation from canon at the start, Madara already has his sharingan, another hold over from the original one-shot version. I didn't want to focus on the Senju/Uchiha issue and it stuck to the fic's now longer form.

Enjoy!

Hiruzen

Sarutobi Hiruzen was a smart man.

He was the third Hokage of the Hidden Leaf, star pupil of Senju Tobirama, hailed as the second God of Shinobi, and master of ten thousand jutsu. But, as he stares down at the result of the latest botched space-time jutsu, one taken from the Nidaime's Forbidden Archive and modified by Hiruzen himself, he wonders how smart he really is to have something backfire this badly.

Because there is a tiny, angry, twelve-year-old Uchiha Madara with only one-tomoe sharingan, yelling and brandishing a kunai at him. And clinging to Madara's arm is an equally tiny Senju Hashirama, shaking and alarmingly pale.

Hiruzen closes his eyes and sighs.

Truly a smart man.

Madara

"Who the fuck are you?! Where are we?!" Madara yells, staring at the old man dressed in the funny looking robes. Moments ago, he was chasing Hashirama along the high cliffs next to the river when something caught the other boy's eye and he tripped, tumbling over the edge. Madara, veins full of fear, didn't hesitate to do the stupid thing and jump off after him. Below the river ran fast and deep and Hashirama couldn't swim.

He'd drown.

He'd die.

Madara couldn't let him die.

But they didn't fall into the rushing water. Instead, they fell through something, a pale tear above the river, and ended up here…wherever here is.

Madara is…pretty sure they're not dead. He knows this isn't Amaterasu's Embrace because the goddess isn't here and neither is Mother. And no one said anything about the wider Pure Lands being a weird stuffy office with messy bookshelves and scrolls spread out everywhere. Certainly nothing about an old man staring at them with a pinched expression.

Hashirama is the only familiar thing about this situation but he's still reeling from going over the cliff's edge. Madara tightens his grip on the kunai and shuffles a bit more in front of him to protect him from the old man's gaze.

"I asked, who the fuck are you—"

"JIJI! Jiji, I passed!" The office door bursts open and a blond boy rushes in. "I'm a real genin…now…" the boy trails off and stares at them in confusion. He's wearing the weirdest, ugliest orange clothes Madara has ever seen. On his forehead is a metal headband with an unknown clan symbol. The old man's eyes widen in shock and for the first time Madara sees concern, maybe even fear reflected in them.

The old man stares at Madara, but it's Hashirama who acts. He clasps his hands together in one of those ridiculously simple hand signs that Madara hates and sharp spears of wood shoot from the floor, caging in the blond boy with two sharpened points pricking at the carotid arteries on either side of his neck.

One wrong move and he's dead.

The boy freezes and the old man turns to Hashirama with something akin to betrayal in his eyes. Madara takes the chance to pass off his kunai to Hashirama, who holds the wooden cage together with one hand. Madara runs through the signs for a Great Fireball jutsu and holds the final sign, fire and chakra burning on the back of his tongue.

Hashirama steps forward, shoulder to shoulder with Madara.

"This is that last time we'll ask: who are you?! Where are we?!"

Hiruzen

Hiruzen wonders, absently, if the space-time ninjutsu backfired even more than he first thought. Because the angry child in front of him looked nothing like the energetic, cheerful man he'd known. He didn't think Hashirama-sensei, if he can even think of the child version by that name, was capable of such an expression. And now Naruto's presence complicates an already unstable situation.

Hiruzen didn't think Hashirama would kill a child, Madara would, but he won't call the bluff.

"I am Sarutobi Hiruzen," Hashirama relaxes ever so slightly while Madara tenses further, "and you are in Konohagakure."

"I've never heard of Konohagakure. What land are we in? Why did you bring us here?" His brown eyes never waver from Hiruzen's, unconcerned with Madara's burning chakra, ready to be released and consume the office at the slightest provocation.

"The Land of Fire. Your arrival was not intentional."

"Don't lie to me, there is no Konohagakure in the Land of Fire. The Sarutobi are allied with no civilian settlement of that name, I would know if they were." He says it easily, without hesitation. Hiruzen is tempted to push him further and might do so if Naruto wasn't here. Hashirama-sensei considered Madara a friend and co-founder of the village but there were always rumors surrounding the two and the start of their relationship. It was generally acknowledged that they had to have met sometime before the truce, but this…

Hashirama and Madara stand side by side and Madara showed no hesitation to hand him a weapon. He stepped in front of Hashirama when they first fell through rip and is allowing the other to speak for him. Hashirama clung to him when they first fell through and he shows no visible reaction to the sharingan.

When did they meet? How long have they known the other's clan name?

This was no meeting as two adults, but two barely genin-aged children. But, Hiruzen admits to himself, they are not genin. Even in the First and Second Shinobi Wars, the level of violence didn't start as young or intensely as it did in the Warring States Era. Both of these children had been on the battlefield as soon as they could walk and hold a weapon. Madara has probably already killed adults of rival clans.

"It is the truth. I was attempting to refine a space-time ninjutsu, but something went wrong and it looks like you two were caught up in the effects of it. I can explain more, but I'd ask both of you stand down and release Naruto."

Hashirama doesn't budge, his eyes flick to Madara's and then back to Hiruzen.

"You're a Sarutobi. Swear to me on Enma's contract that you're telling the truth and that you, your allies, or your enemies will not move against us," Hashirama demands.

Danzou isn't going to be happy about this. Hiruzen can feel his chakra outside the Tower, storming up the stairs. No doubt alerted by the strange jutsu and two powerful new chakra signatures.

"I swear on Enma's contract, I speak only the truth and no harm will come to you while I explain your situation."

Madara's black eyes narrow and Hiruzen can practically hear the protest about to erupt from Hashirama.

"I can promise no more protection than that, it would be foolish for me to swear something I cannot uphold."

Both boys frown but after a long, tense moment Madara drops his hands, sharingan and chakra dispersing as he coughs up smoke. Hashirama releases his hand sign and the wooden spears sink back into the floor. He turns to Madara, concern in his eyes, as he rubs the boy's back.

"Naruto, congratulations on your appointment, but please come back another time." The boy, pouting and unusually quiet, slips out of Hiruzen's office. He makes a mental note to talk to him later. This situation with Hashirama and Madara won't be resolved immediately and he'll probably do something childish to get back at them.

And with the kyuubi so close to Madara…

"Start talking." Madara straightens and crosses his arms.

Madara

"The future…we're in the future, Madara! It's our village! We did it, we really did it!" Hashirama yells, almost toppling over the balcony's railing before Madara grabs his haori and hauls him back. He understands Hashirama's excitement. They're looking out over the single biggest settlement Madara has ever seen and it's theirs. All the ideas he and Hashirama traded back and forth, so far out of reach they felt more like impossible dreams than achievable reality…it's all here. Right in front of him.

"Look, it's our cliff! We were just there this morning and now…all of this!" Hashirama laughs and almost launches himself over the railing a second time, he can't stop moving. Madara pulls him back and links their hands to hold him still.

"It's…amazing," Madara doesn't know how to put it into words. Everything is so overwhelming. They did it. He and Hashirama made their village. And it's not just the Senju and Uchiha clans, the Sarutobi and Shimura, and probably others, are here too.

Madara tears his gaze away from their dream to peek back in the office.

The hokage, a name Hashirama had to have come up with it's so ridiculous, stands next to his adviser, whispering in low tones. Madara didn't know quite what to make of the old man but the new one, the one with a bandaged eye and arm, Madara got the distinct impression the man did not like him.

Hiruzen was vague when he explained the jutsu and where they were. Time travel. Even with Madara's knowledge of jutsu and chakra it seemed…absurd. And complicated. Based on Hiruzen's pinched expression he didn't know what them being here meant for the timeline. It created some sort of paradox and by that part Madara started to tune him out because he started muttering about different fuinjutsu equations and theories. Hashirama had long since stopped paying attention.

In the end Madara gathered that because the world didn't explode or something when they first got here it…should be fine. But Hiruzen didn't want to take any chances about corrupting the timeline. But before he could explain that, his advisor appeared, nostrils flared and mouth pressed into a thin flat line. His chakra felt…strange, almost familiar but before Madara could ask, they were shooed off to the balcony to let the adults speak. Typical.

"Madara," Hashirama tugs on his hand, "Madara, we should go explore." Hashirama's brown eyes sparkle.

It's a bad idea, one almost guaranteed to get them in trouble with the Sarutobi.

But Madara has always been weak for that blinding smile.

Two quick wood clones later, Madara and Hashirama are running down the side of the Hokage Tower, the entire glittering village spread out before them.

Hiruzen

"Tell me again why you didn't kill Uchiha Madara immediately on sight?" Danzou growls and Hiruzen fights back a sigh.

"The jutsu was supposed to be a gaze into the past, acting like a window from which we could view historical events without obfuscation or misinformation. It was not supposed to be a means of bringing it to the present, this shouldn't have been able to happen with my safeguards, Danzou. Tobirama-sensei's notes were vague, he never attempted the jutsu and only wrote about it theoretically, mostly concerned with how to focus the jutsu and gain valuable information. But he was worried about the effects of opening said window, and what it would mean if others of that time somehow sensed it. This goes far beyond that, a true question of a time paradox. Are they our past? Or, by their very presence, did we—"

"You, Hiruzen."

"…did I, create a parallel branch? On the chance that they are our past and the present is still stable because we send them back to the point of their departure, killing Madara would destroy us. It would corrupt our timeline. We are capable of wiping their memories, but death is not so reversible," Hiruzen explains slowly. And reanimating a child version of Madara was out of the question.

"And if they are a branch?"

"Well, either their past has completely split off and without Hashirama, the village will most likely never be founded. Or…by the very act tearing into the past, once they passed through, that timeline crumbled. Either way they would be rooted in our present, and not part of our past."

"And then we could safely kill Madara?"

"Yes, but—"

"No buts, Hiruzen. Your soft heart isn't getting in the way this time. That is Uchiha Madara and I don't care if he's two, twelve, or twenty he is a threat to the village and needs to be eliminated," Danzou snaps, brown eye burning.

"I wasn't going to protest killing him, I know who he is, Danzou." Tobirama-sensei always emphasized the danger Madara presented to the village. He may be a child right now, but he would eventually succumb to the Curse of Hatred, it was only a matter of time. "My concern, however, is Hashirama."

"What about him?"

"He is…unusually attached to Madara."

"What?"

"The jutsu didn't open two windows that conveniently centered around them, there was one and they came through together. They have a clear familiarity and unusual amount of trust between them. I'm quite sure he would react…poorly to us attempting to kill Madara."

Danzou curses under his breath and paces back and forth, leaning heavily on his cane.

"Could it be genjutsu?"

The thought had crossed Hiruzen's mind but Hashirama's eyes were clear and a subtle release when Hiruzen was explaining the village did nothing.

"I don't think so."

"Well, they're children, he could be overpowered," Danzou says but he frowns as he does so. Even with Danzou's animosity towards the man, he was still Tobirama-sensei's brother.

"He also didn't hesitate to attack Naruto. Another inch and the boy would've been dead." And then Hiruzen would have failed Minato a third time. And the kyuubi would have been unleashed for another rampage.

"They're still children. They may be chunin level, maybe even jonin, but they're not a threat to us." Danzou stops pacing to stare out at the two boys on the balcony. Hiruzen turns to see Hashirama gesturing widely, a bright grin on his face. "What are we going to do in the meantime, Hiruzen? How long will it take you to determine their status?"

"Truthfully? Months."

"…months. What are we going to do with them for months?!"

"Even if I work around the clock on nothing else, this entire situation…" even thinking about it starts to make his head throb. The amount of work to determine what went wrong with the original jutsu, reverse it, then invent a way for them to purposefully time travel, to the exact time they were pulled from…it was months if not years of work and creating an entire new branch of fuinjutsu, made impossibly harder without Uzushiogakure's aid. And it had to be perfect because there were no second chances. Even if it was a parallel branch, he'd have to find a way to determine that beyond all measure of doubt before they could safely kill Madara.

"What are we going to do with them?" Danzou bites out, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Unless we sedate them for months, people will see them, will ask questions. There are now two Uchiha in the village, Hiruzen. There are two mokuton users. And Konoha is hosting the chunin exams this year!"

"The Uchiha were a large clan, we can claim Madara is a bastard whose mother was a non-Uchiha. Orochimaru," even saying the name pains him, "experimented with the Shodai's cells before and had proof of its success. We can claim Hashirama is the sole survivor of his group."

"Fine, but only as a worst-case scenario. I think we should avoid having them out in public at all…costs…" Danzou trails off, his eye narrowing on the boys still on the balcony. "They've been in that same position for too long." He stalks over to the boys, cane tapping menacingly on the floor as Hiruzen follows closely behind.

They don't react and when he gets closer Hiruzen can see the unnatural blockiness to their forms, the wood grain pattern on their faces. Imperfect wood clones.

Danzou snarls and brings his cane down over Madara's clone. The wooden features collapse until it's a misshapen hunk.

"Can you sense them?!" Danzou snarls.

Hiruzen stretches out his sensory skill but between the glut of people in Konoha and Madara knowing without a doubt how to suppress his chakra…

"No."

"I'm calling in the ANBU." Danzou spins away while Hiruzen remains frozen in place, hands clenched tightly around the metal railing. Cold wind whips around his body, tugging at his robes. How much trouble could they possibly get into?

Madara

"I want you to know, I think this is a bad idea," Madara crosses his arms and glares at Hashirama.

They've been wandering aimlessly down the streets of Konoha for several hours now. It's all surreal. There are so many different kinds of people, so many different kinds of stores…it was overwhelming. They couldn't do much more than walk and experience it. But now they've wandered into an area noticeably rough compared to the Hokage Tower and other parts of the village. The streets are cracked and the buildings look mismatched and worn, hastily patched with any material available. This, at least, is more familiar to Madara. He's been masking his chakra by habit, but even with his reduced senses, there aren't many shinobi around. Instead civilians in odd clothes, bright and shiny with unnaturally colored eyelids and lips walk by and give the two of them strange looks. All of that is a lesser concern though, it's not like he and Hashirama can't beat up some people if it came down to it, but…it's been hours since they ate.

And they have no money.

Madara's stomach growls and he purposefully ignores Hashirama's smirk.

"Come on, it's just asking for a little food," Hashirama gestures to the tiny ramen shop across the street.

"You have no shame. None."

"Nope!" Hashirama grins. "Now be serious, do I look cute?" He sticks his lip out and opens his eyes wide until they start to water. Madara watches in disgust as Hashirama sniffles and a single tear drips down his cheek.

He doesn't bother to answer. Instead, he stomps towards the little ramen bar and throws back the privacy curtains stamped with Ichiraku Ramen as Hashirama sidles up close to him and grabs his arm. He freezes as soon as his eyes lock with the man behind the counter. But Hashirama steps forward, eyes watering as he drags an unwilling Madara with him.

This is so embarrassing. But the ramen smells good and he's hungry.

"Sir—" Hashirama hasn't even started crying yet when the man sighs and gestures for them to sit at the counter. They take their seats on the red stools. Madara feels Hashirama's ankle hook around his own.

"Ayame, two servings of miso," the man tells the woman in front of the stove. He doesn't take his eyes off them, looking back and forth between Madara and Hashirama. Does he recognize us? He and Hashirama had to have made the village when they were adults, being clan heads only made sense, but how well would people recognize them like this? Madara glares at Hashirama's bowl cut…that thing was awfully hard to forget…

But the man doesn't say anything as he sets a bowl in front of each of them. Hashirama immediately snaps a pair of chopsticks and starts eating but Madara hesitates.

"Go on, son, it's on the house. God knows you look like you need it," the last bit is muttered under his breath, words Madara barely catches. Because as soon as he heard the first, he descends on his food. Hashirama leans away, avoiding the splash of broth as Madara inhales the noodles.

He's so focused on his food he doesn't notice Ayame and the man pausing to stare at him. In minutes, Madara finishes and drains the bowl. He sets it down on the red counter with a click and turns towards Hashirama, who's eating slowly, a dumb smile on his face.

"Hashi."

Hashirama's eyes slide to his as he bites off the noodles.

"We're sharing, you're not taking," he emphasizes before sliding the bowl towards Madara. Madara descends again, at least he tries. Hashirama knocks away his hand with a glare. He tries again and the other boy shoves him away, hand on Madara's cheek. "Sharing, Madara, we're sharing!"

Madara scoffs and tries to scrabble for the bowl, fingers missing by inches.

"You're not eating fast enough!"

"I'm enjoying my food unlike someone!"

"I enjoyed it just fine! And now I'm going to enjoy yours!"

"Nope, you lost your chance I'm not sharing anymore!"

Madara knows from experience their squabbling could go on for hours but in that moment they're broken up by the ramen man setting another bowl on the counter in front of Madara.

"You two definitely have healthy sets of lungs," the man drawls. Madara glances suspiciously at the bowl and then back up at him. "This one's free too, if you stop yelling." That's all Madara needs to hear to pick up the new bowl and start gulping it down.

"You shouldn't tell him that, it'll only encourage him," Hashirama mutters as he brings more noodles to his mouth. Madara's arm shoots out and Hashirama nearly topples from his stool from the push.

"Boys—" ramen man sighs and Ayame chuckles. Madara and Hashirama glare at each other just as the curtains are pushed away and a newly familiar voice starts yelling.

"Old man Teuchi! Old man Teuchi! I passed my—hey! It's you two again!" The same blond boy that burst into the hokage's office now stands stiffly at the edge of the ramen bar. "You followin' me or something?" He squints at them.

"You got here last, if anything you're following us," Madara grumbles, setting down his second bowl. His stomach doesn't feel like it's about to cave in on itself anymore, but Hashirama's half-finished bowl still looks enticing.

Teuchi sighs and sets a third bowl in front of him.

"I'm not! You two are just in my places," the boy, Naruto if Madara remembers right, slowly creeps into the bar, keeping a fair distance between himself and them. He hefts himself up onto a seat, four stools apart.

Oh yeah, Hashirama did almost kill him…

Madara elbows Hashirama in the side. He whines, a bunch of noodles hanging out of his mouth. Madara jerks his head towards Naruto and glares at Hashirama until he can see realization light up in his eyes. He slurps up his noodles and, in typical Hashirama fashion, leans around Madara to face Naruto with a bright grin.

"Sorry about almost killing you before!" He has a noodle stuck to his cheek.

Madara slams his head down on the counter and reaches blindly for his third bowl.

"Pardon?" Teuchi asks as he sets a fancy pork ramen bowl in front of Naruto. "On the house for passing Kakashi's test, Naruto."

"Eh? Oh yeah! Thanks old man Teuchi! And uh," Naruto glances at Hashirama, a bewildered look on his face, "it's fine. Thanks for saying sorry." Naruto pulls the pork bowl towards himself but doesn't start eating. "Um…you're not going to try and kill me again, right?"

"Didn't plan to!" Hashirama says around a mouth full of noodles. "Right, Madara?"

Madara grunts and puts down his empty third bowl.

"Son…" Teuchi gives him a look but Madara doesn't care because he sets down a fourth bowl and Madara drags it closer.

"You guys are pretty weird," Naruto says but he scoots over a stool, until only three separate him from Madara.

Hashirama gasps and then slumps over his bowl, a dark cloud hanging over his head. "He thinks we're weird, Madara…no respect, not even now."

"It's probably because of your weird clothes and bad hair," Madara mutters. "But then again I've never seen a shinobi wear orange," he can still barely bear to look at Naruto head on, "he's probably a Senju. That's your legacy Hashirama, bad fashion," Madara grins and Hashirama collapses fully on the counter, cheek pressed against its hard surface.

"So mean…"

"Hey, hey, hey! What're you talkin' about? What's a Senju? And just so you know," Naruto stands up on the stool, ignoring Ayame's quiet plea to get down, "I'm Uzumaki Naruto, number one unpredictable ninja and future Hokage! Believe it!"

Is everyone in the future dumb? Madara wonders. How does he not know what a Senju is? Especially if he's an Uzumaki.

Madara rolls his eyes and looks at Hashirama's depressed form. "See? He's an Uzumaki, that's close enough."

"You know by that reasoning, I could imply there's not too much difference between you and the Hyuga…" Hashirama trails off and Madara has finally wizened up to his act, he can see the barely there smirk under the depressed façade.

"Don't you dare," Madara brandishes his chopsticks like a kunai.

"Wait! You know another Uzumaki?" Naruto scrambles over the remaining three stools until he's practically on top of Madara, leaning into his space. Madara recoils and barely stops himself from stabbing Naruto as he leans protectively over his ramen.

"Madara gets really touchy about food, so if he stabs you, it's not personal," Hashirama adds helpfully.

"Whatever, tell me about the other Uzumaki!"

"I don't know what you want, you're an Uzumaki, you should know more about your clan than me," Madara growls, inching towards the other edge of his stool to better guard his food. Besides everyone's safe and happy in the village now. He's sure Naruto doesn't want to know about all the tactics the Uchiha made to counter the Uzumaki's sealing and kill them.

"The Uzumaki are a clan?!"

For the first time, something uneasy settles in Madara's stomach. Naruto…seriously doesn't know? Beside him, Hashirama pushes himself to his elbows and leans closer until he's brushing up against Madara.

"Of course, they are. Land of Whirlpools? The island chain just off Fire Country's north-eastern coast? Fuinjutsu masters? Huge chakra reserves? Descended from the same ancestor as the Senju clan? It's kinda weird you're not a red-head but I guess after several generations that makes sense," Hashirama says slowly, waiting for any sign of recognition on Naruto's face. There's none, but his blue eyes grow wider and wider.

"I didn't know any of that…I've never met another Uzumaki, I thought I was the only one," he rubs his head sheepishly. Behind the counter Teuchi and Ayame are staring at them with unreadable expressions.

"Why didn't the Senju take you in? That's customary." Madara feels Hashirama's hand curl around his arm and squeeze.

"I don't know any Senju, are they a clan too?"

Hashirama makes a low noise, his hand tightening until the point of pain.

"Clans…do exist here, right?" Madara asks as he glances worryingly at Hashirama. They don't know how they made the village and one throwaway idea Madara had originally dismissed was the dissolution of the clan structure. Sure, it might work for the Uzumaki, who's kekkei genkai was rare and only could be wielded by women. And maybe the Senju, Hashirama claimed the mokuton was one but despite it never appearing in the Uchiha stone-tablets, but for the Uchiha? The Hyuga? Not possible. "We've met a Sarutobi and a Shimura, that means the Yamanaka, Akimichi, and Nara are here too. And the Uchiha, since they helped found the village."

"Yeah clans exist, and they think they're so great," Naruto mutters, crossing his arms. Madara and Hashirama both open their mouths, ready to demand what happened to the Senju but Naruto keeps talking. "Shikamaru and Choji aren't the worst but Ino? She's so mean, and it's nothing but Sasuke-bastard this, Sasuke-bastard that. And now I'm on a team with him and I get he's special and all 'cause he's the last Uchiha but—"

"The last Uchiha?" Madara interrupts. "What happened to the others?" His heart starts to pound and by Naruto's sudden wince and Teuchi's carefully blank expression he knows it's bad. Did they leave? Why would they leave the village? Did the clan dissolve? Why would they cast off their name—

"Um…" Naruto trails off, absently tracing his finger on the counter's surface.

"What happened—"

"The Uchiha Massacre," Teuchi finally says, "Four years ago, Uchiha Itachi massacred every man, woman, and child in his clan. All of them are dead except his little brother Sasuke."

Madara's chopsticks clatter to the ground.

"That can't be right. An Uchiha turned against other Uchiha? No way." Hashirama's words are distorted, like Madara's trying to listen to him underwater.

They're dead…they're all…dead?

It's unthinkable.

They can't…his family…

Madara's skin feels too tight. He's burning, he's freezing. All the ramen he ate sits like a heavy stone in his gut. He's going to be sick. His heart is pounding faster than a trapped rabbit's. Madara doesn't realize he's started to hyperventilate, his hands clutching desperately at his yukata as his chest heaves and shakes, until Hashirama loosens his grip on Madara's arm.

The change is enough to set him off.

His eyes prick and reality ripples. One eye burns, burns, burns and Madara can practically see the second tomoe appear in his mind's eye. He's off his stool, running out of the ramen bar with a primal desperation to get away.

He sees, but doesn't process, Teuchi and Ayame's shocked faces.

"Madara!" Hashirama scrambles behind him, chasing after him.

Madara crosses the space in two jittery steps and bumps into the next customer trying to enter.

"Sorry Naruto, I got held up—"

Madara shoves the man back, absently taking in his features: brown skin, scar across his nose, shoulder-length hair, and rushes past.

"Madara, wait! H-hey! Let me go!"

Madara is outside in the unfamiliar village. The setting sun spills red light across the buildings and streets. He turns towards the only semi-familiar thing in sight, the cliff-face with its four unfamiliar heads. He's racing blindly towards it when he hears the familiar creak of mokuton wood, the resounding crack and subsequent splintering. If he looked back, he'd see part of the floor and one wall of Ichiraku Ramen warped as Hashirama broke free of the new man's grasp.

"Madara!"

Madara doesn't stop running.

Iruka

Umino Iruka is a simple man. It's not a bad thing. In fact, he takes comfort in his life of simplicity. He's here to teach children and offer them a solid foundation before the cruel shinobi world rips them apart. All of his children are precious, and he makes an effort to remember all of their names even after they've long since graduated. But Iruka will admit Naruto has a special spot in his heart.

Which is why he was nervous when the Sandaime assigned him, Sasuke, and Sakura on Kakashi's team. He spent all day at the Hokage Tower doing paperwork, biting his nails and waiting for the result. It was a poorly kept secret that shinobi were the worst gossips, scaling disproportionally to experience. The only gossips worse than the jonin were the ANBU and above them the Hokage himself. And no matter the outcome, Team 7 would be the hottest news of the day.

But then Naruto himself barged in, bragging and smiling, and Iruka almost collapsed with relief.

Naruto was insistent that he tell the Sandaime and Iruka promised to meet him at Ichiraku's afterward.

Iruka never expected to run into a ghost.

The child bumped into him and Iruka saw the impossible. Two red sharingan eyes, the right with one tomoe, the left with two. He had bags underneath his eyes and skin that stretched too thin over pointy cheekbones and chin. Malnourished.

It wasn't Sasuke.

It wasn't Sasuke.

The Uchiha child pushes past Iruka's stunned form. He barely grabs the second one, only years of reflexively snatching up children before they could hurt themselves prevail. Still, he almost loses his grip when the child shouts: "Madara, wait! H-hey! Let me go!"

Madara? As in Uchiha Madara?

It's almost funny.

It's less funny when the wriggling child in his arms slaps his hands together and the wooden wall and floor come alive to grab Iruka. He drops the boy, who darts out of the ramen bar with another shout.

Mokuton? Is that supposed to be Senju Hashirama too? Iruka wants to laugh because otherwise he thinks he'll scream.

Hashirama

Hashirama runs. He runs as fast as he can but he still loses sight of Madara in the twists and turns of the streets. Hashirama has always been the stronger of the two of them, but Madara is faster. Way faster. Still, he doesn't stop running or shouting Madara's name. If he wasn't so panicked and more aware of his surroundings, he'd notice how some people, especially older people, flinched whenever he did.

But Hashirama wasn't thinking clearly. The Uchiha…the Uchiha were dead, all but one. And that Uzumaki kid had never heard of his own clan or Hashirama's which probably meant…

This wasn't supposed to happen. The village was supposed to be safe! It was supposed to be a place he and Madara could be together. A place to protect their families, their brothers, where kids didn't have to kill each other ever again, not result in their clans being completely wiped out! Hashirama pushes that thought down. He can't afford to think about it now, he has to find Madara.

Hashirama isn't a sensor, but he does know Madara. And when Madara gets stressed he likes to curl up and hide in familiar places. Hashirama changes course and turns towards their cliff.

But where is he now? Hashirama wonders as he runs straight up the cliff face. They were here just this morning, but everything has changed. The faces and the village below him, the few buildings up here on the plateau and a new strange forest that wasn't here before.

This is all different, would the caves be different too? Madara had a knack for finding small caves and crevices. Whenever they played hide and seek, he always chose to hide in them. And there was one specific cave just off of the plateau that he was especially fond of.

Hashirama finds the familiar entrance as the sun slips below the horizon and darkness creeps over the land. I need to head home before Father gets suspicious. Hashirama thinks out of habit. But he doesn't. Butsuma isn't here. It's their village and they doesn't have to hide their friendship.

"Madara?" Hashirama gets down on his knees to peer into the darkness. This isn't much of a cave but rather an old animal burrow under a rocky shelf. As he lowers his head, he sees a flash of red and two glowing eyes. "I'm coming in, okay?"

When he doesn't hear any protest Hashirama twists until he can slide down the small slope and tumble to a stop next to Madara. He's hunched over, knees drawn tight to his chest. It's not a big space, but Hashirama still has to shuffle closer, palms scraping against rock and dirt until he can wrap his hands around Madara's shaking form. He smells faintly like vomit; he must have thrown up somewhere outside.

Hashirama pushes down that worry too, even as he feels the too-sharp bones under his skin.

"It's okay, it's okay," Hashirama soothes, one hand locked around Madara's shoulders, the other running through his coarse hair.

"It's not. They're all dead. I failed…I must have failed, it's my fault," Madara's voice is ragged. He collapses against Hashirama's chest, body seizing with a sob.

Hashirama knows Madara has a different view of responsibility than him. Hashirama would be the next Senju head, as much as Butsuma disliked it, but Tobirama would help him. The Senju have a leader, but also a council made up of elders and other main branch inheritors. And, while the concept of being clan head itself was still nebulous, someone would have to come after him. Leadership would be Hashirama's burden, but not his alone. And eventually he would pass that burden on to someone altogether.

Hashirama isn't sure if the Uchiha are all different or if it's just Madara, but he always treated everything as if it was his personal responsibility and he was still just the heir! It was Madara's job to listen to the adults. It was Madara's job to be a perfect prodigy. It was Madara's job to protect his brother. It was Madara's job to protect the entire clan. And if anything happened to the Uchiha it would be Madara's fault.

They were at war, and Madara took every death as his own personal failing, one that he had to correct but could never completely atone for.

So now…

"It's not your fault. We've probably been dead for a long time," and wasn't that creepy to think about, "and ramen man said it happened four years ago. It's not your fault." Hashirama rocks them back and forth, squeezing Madara as tight as he can. "Madara, what Uchiha would kill other Uchiha? Unless something radically changed," something besides the village, Hashirama thinks with a wince, "that just can't be true. So, it can't be your fault."

"They're all dead, Hashirama! Someone is responsible and as clan head when the village was founded, it should have been up to me to make sure nothing like that could happen! Otherwise, what even is the point of the village, if it can't protect them? It's supposed to be safe not lead to everyone's death!" Madara cries, his hands clenching into fists around Hashirama's haori.

It's so we can be together. A place they could spend every day together as well as a place where their brothers, their clans, could be safe. No more fighting, no more war. That was Hashirama's dream, that was their dream.

"Well…think of this as…as practice!" The words escape him before Hashirama can really process what he's saying.

"Practice? For accepting that my clan is going to die?!" Madara raises his head. Hashirama can barely make out the angry curl of his lip from the fading light and red sharingan glow.

"No, of course not! But Madara we're in the future which means we're not in the past where we're supposed to be. So, the Sandaime has to send us back at some point, right? Which means," he cups Madara's cheeks and leans in close, "we can change it."

Madara squints at him. "Is that how time travel works? Because the Sandaime's explanation was vague and confusing—"

"Yeah, yeah, I think so! Tobirama was telling me all about it!"

"Tobirama is eight, Hashirama. And I bet you weren't even paying attention!"

"I was…mostly. It's not like I thought it was going to matter, okay? But what I said makes sense. We founded the village, so we have to be in the past to found it, soooo we have to be sent back." The more he thinks about it the more Hashirama likes this idea. "But since we're here now, we can learn about everything that worked and things that didn't and then not make those mistakes! Madara, this is just like sparring before a fight, we can only make things better!"

"Okay, but then why aren't things constantly changing around us by new decisions we made in the past? Or is everything fixed so this is our future no matter what?" Madara asks. The question hurts Hashirama's head, but if nothing else it has distracted Madara. He's not crying or shaking anymore.

"Um, I don't think anything will change until we actually go back to the past. Then it'll…uh, happen all at once? But since we're here now, it won't," Hashirama says with more confidence than he feels. He's not smart like Tobirama, he's good at talking and fighting but things with papers and books make him break out in hives.

Hashirama fidgets in place, thumbs absently tracing circles on Madara's skin while the other boy mulls over his words. Hashirama can barely see him now, but he's seen Madara's thinking really hard face enough times to picture it in his head. It's very similar to his Hashirama you're an idiot face.

"…that makes sense, I think," Madara says slowly, and Hashirama bites down the instinctive 'it does?' that wants to escape. He's supposed to be instilling confidence right now! "And if we really can change the future…you're right Hashi. This is our chance to make sure the best version of our dream comes true! I won't let my clan die! I'll protect them no matter what! We can figure out what went wrong with the Senju and Uzumaki, too! We'll have all the answers, we'll know how to do it right!"

Hashirama feels Madara's cheeks stretch into a grin and he can't help but crush him in a hug. "It'll work out as long as we're together," he whispers as Madara hugs him back. Hashirama's chest is too tight and tears prick at his eyes, he's about burst from relief and happiness. As long as they're together, everything will be alright. Nothing can go wrong with Madara by his side.

Kakashi

Kakashi is a straightforward man. Which is why, when the ANBU agent comes for him in the evening and brings him to Hiruzen's office where the old man tells him to track down Uchiha Madara and Senju Hashirama, Kakashi only has one thing to say.

"Ma, ma, Sandaime-sama, I didn't know someone stole your zombies, left the door unlocked, did you?" Kakashi is a loyal Konoha shinobi, but he sees the rot underneath. And Hiruzen, despite any good intentions, has always been at its center.

But the man's next words, delivered with sober intensity, explaining an incident that brought the living, breathing founders, the Ghost of the Uchiha and the God of Shinobi here…

"Bring them in, Kakashi. They can't be allowed to roam unsupervised in the village." The underlying threat was clear. Uchiha Madara had attacked the village once and was barely defeated by the Shodai.

The only interesting thing, Kakashi thinks as Pakkun sniffs the ancient robes Hiruzen gave him, is that Hiruzen didn't say the Shodai would stop Madara a second time. From the implication to bring them both back, Hashirama had been kidnapped or willingly left with Madara over the Sandaime's orders.

And then there was the fact that Kakashi alone had been assigned the task. Kakashi is an elite among elites but he's not prideful enough to think he stood a chance against a god or a ghost. Unless their mythical status was greatly exaggerated, which, judging by the Valley of the End and the many, many redrawn maps he's seen in the Hokage's library doesn't think so, they could barely count as human in terms of power.

Something's not adding up.

It takes Pakkun longer than normal to pick up the scent and Kakashi still has to keep the red and white robes on hand for him to return and scent check every few minutes.

"Just don't smell right, boss. Something's…off," Pakkun mutters, nose against the ground as they slowly make their way into a rough part of the village. They're not far from Naruto's apartment, this area is directly on the ANBU guard route. Eventually Pakkun leads him to Ichiraku's and Kakashi whistles long and low.

The front of the ramen bar is busted, floor and wall twisted until it reaches out into an abstract hand. The privacy curtains are tangled up and all of the lights have been turned off. Passersbys eye the strange development but Ichiraku's is known for its ninja clientele. This isn't the first time something strange has happened but unless Tenzo snapped, no one should be able to twist the wood in such a way.

Hunting a god and a ghost, what a life, eh Obito?

Kakashi turns away and lets Pakkun sniff the robe once again. They round a few streets, passing buildings and people out too late, working men and women that eye Kakashi and his ninken with wary gazes. Pakkun winds through several random back alleys but the Hokage mountain looms above them, growing larger and larger.

Sure enough, Pakkun stops at the base of the cliff face before tilting his head, up, up, up.

"Ma, Pakkun what are the chances I don't get skewered on a scythe, I wonder?" Kakashi asks as he and the ninken start running straight up. He likes to think he's been successful but he's about to fight a myth, with no promise that the God of Shinobi will be in a position to help him.

They crest the top. The only visible light is from the half-moon dangling above and the lights of Konoha spread out underneath. Here on the top of the cliff, no longer under the previous Hokages' eyes, Kakashi feels strangely detached and untethered from the village.

His sandals crunch over rocks and dirt and a cold wind blows through the nearby trees, rattling the budding spring leaves. Pakkun circles several times, losing the scent and re-doubling until he eventually stops at a small crack under a rocky shelf. It's too small for any grown man, let alone a man the size of the Shodai, to fit in. There's no evidence of any jutsu.

Kakashi looks down and meets Pakkun's eyes. Pakkun shrugs, as best a dog can, and looks at the crack.

"I dunno boss, scent stops here."

"Circle around, see if it picks up again."

For the next hour they do exactly that, branching out further and further in hunting circles. Pakkun has tracked down enemies in every kind of weather, through all means of hiding their scent and chakra, but he never finds so much a hint of the scent in the forest.

Just the crack in the earth.

Kakashi sighs and rests one hand on his hip. "If this kills me, I want every Icha Icha volume willed to Gai. Tell him it'll help him channel his youthful energy or something." Kakashi gets down on his hands and knees and peers into the hole. It's pitch black, of course.

But then as he starts to inch closer, wondering if a doton would be best, even if it might be a faster way to die, he hears something. Something like fabric scraping against stone and then a low hum.

Kakashi tenses but nothing else happens.

This is a bad idea. He forms a katon sign and pushes chakra into his palm like he would a chidori. A small wavering flame flicks to life above his hand and a pair of glowing, blood red eyes snap open in the hole.

Ah shi—

Kakashi shushins away just as a burst of flame erupts from the den. He reappears in a tree and pulls a kunai from his pouch. He's about to lift up his forehead protector, this won't be a battle to do by halves, when Kakashi actually sees the figures that scramble out.

The sharingan only had three tomoe in total.

It's a realization that fully sinks in when Kakashi sees the children. Dusty and dirty, backlit by flames, there's no doubt they're no older than his new cute little genin team.

And murderous.

Very murderous.

Kakashi shushins out of the way of another stream of fire, only for vines to burst up from the ground and reach for him.

And, unless Tenzo reverted to a child, that is definitely Senju Hashirama. Also trying to murder him.

He dodges the vines and jumps to the ground. Immediately the red eyes are right in front of him. Madara is not a particularly strong hitter, but he is fast. In all of the myths of the terrifying Uchiha Madara, none have mentioned his speed. And, as Kakashi is forced to try and anticipate his movements, uncannily similar to how he used to try and anticipate Minato-sensei, before the kunai in Madara's hand slips past his guard, Kakashi thinks that was a grave oversight.

It doesn't help that vines slither up from underground, reaching to trap him or trip him. Vines that Madara moves effortlessly around and give him time to form more hand signs and spit fire. Hashirama slips into the fight, adding another layer of difficulty, and Kakashi thinks he could lose.

He knows the history of the village is little more than propaganda, but what little they're taught before twisting children into child soldiers is that Uchiha Madara surrendered after being bested by Senju Hashirama. Nowhere were the clan heads anything more than enemies before the creation of the village.

Kakashi deflects Madara's blows, kunai meeting kunai in a clash of steel and he manages to shove the child back. His victory is short-lived, Hashirama uses the opening, snapping his foot into Kakashi's ribs and reaching out to grab Madara and swing him around in a move that the most intuitive teams with years of experience would struggle with.

Only enemies, yeah right. Kakashi thinks as the tiny terror's legs wrap around his neck. Kakashi struggles to breathe. His ribs ache, definitely bruised, maybe broken. He manages to twist in time so Madara's kunai sinks into his shoulder, not his neck. He dodges Hashirama's next kick, his blows are heavy but nowhere near Madara's speed, and the next burst of vines before grabbing Madara's ankle and throwing him off.

"Pakkun!"

He needs a moment to catch his breath and rethink this confrontation. Kakashi doesn't want to kill them, was told explicitly not to, but fighting to kill these two would be easier than fighting to capture.

Pakkun responds and as Madara's body hits the ground, the ninken is on him. Pakkun is small, not the pack's combat specialist, but a threat nonetheless. He's torn grown men apart, ripped them limb from limb just as the other ninken have.

Kakashi hears Madara's choked off cry of pain and his standoff with Hashirama finally ends. The other boy's head whips towards Madara and he's running without giving Kakashi a backward glance. Kakashi dismisses Pakkun before either boy could land a hit and rushes through a clone-body substitution.

He reappears in a tree while a clone stands in the place he just was.

Further away, Hashirama pulls Madara to his feet. The boy is clutching at his left forearm, yukata torn and dirty as blood gushes from the wound. Kakashi raises his headband and frowns. That looks like a critical wound. He'll have to finish this quickly and get a tourniquet before the boy bleeds out—

Glowing green chakra surrounds Hashirama's hands and wrap around to cover Madara's injured forearm.

Dammit Hiruzen. Kakashi didn't expect the old man to tell him every little detail of this mishap but the bare minimum to complete this mission would have been nice. Especially the fact that he was fighting an experienced duo, not just two ninja who may be working together.

Shinobi only let those they trusted with their lives heal them.

It was why teams were encouraged to each have their own med-nin and why even as adults the hospital was the last place you'd find any seasoned ninja unless forced. The tactic of attacking med-nin was two purpose. To cut off the enemies' ability to be healed, and to stop the enemy med-nin from using their jutsu on downed allies. Interrogation was worse than a quick death and a med-nin who knew how to knit flesh together and heal physical damage knew how to cause agony and deaden nerves until enemy shinobi had no means of escape and were permanently crippled.

The line between the two was razor-thin and could change in an instant.

And of course, Tsunade's talent was inherited.

In mere moments, Madara flexes his bloody but uninjured arm.

He looks up, blood-red eyes on the clone that shifts into a fighting stance. In the tree, Kakashi pulls out a set of kunai with binding tags. If he can get behind them…

"Clone," Madara says and his eyes flick up towards Kakashi's tree, "real one is in the tree."

A sharingan sensor, goddammit Hiruzen—

Kakashi jumps from the branch as another fireball comes barreling towards him. From the corner of his eye, he sees a sharpened spear of wood punch straight through the clone's chest. The static shock is rendered useless.

"Don't suppose you two would believe me if I said I was sent to bring you back to the Sandaime?" Kakashi asks.

"You should have tried that one before attacking us," Hashirama mutters, slamming his hands together.

In the raging firelight his eyes almost look yellow and Kakashi swears if there's an unnamed Senju dojutsu he wasn't told about; he's going to start actively encouraging Naruto's to harass Hiruzen. Hashirama's attacks have also changed from obstructive into actively lethal. Kakashi dances around wooden spears that erupt from the ground, always aiming at his vital points.

Someone's upset that Madara got injured.

And speaking of terror number one, he's definitely seen Obito's sharingan. Kakashi can practically smell the hostility emanating from him.

"Technically, I didn't attack you," Kakashi says as he kicks Madara away and the boy twists and pulls himself up on one of the spikes to launch himself again. Kakashi dodges another spear and jumps back to avoid Madara's kunai. "I was sent find you by the Sandaime, but he failed to mention you were children, not adults. The trail ended at a child sized hidey-hole; you can understand my confusion."

"And why should we believe an eye-thief? You think I don't know what that scar means?!" Madara snarls, kunai aiming for Kakashi's throat. Not for the first time Kakashi laments the perfectly straight scar over his eyelid. Obito never returned from that mission and it was only Kakashi and Rin's words that it was a gift and not stolen. The thief's mark did next to nothing to convince the Uchiha otherwise.

"'Blessed are the eyes of Indra, a gift from the Sun Herself. Blessed are the eyes freely given while the heart still beats. Blessed is the left eye of Uchiha Obito. Blessed is the left eye of Hatake Kakashi.'" Kakashi repeats by heart. Obito's final words before making Kakashi promise to protect Rin. Madara falters and draws back, eyes narrowed in a calculating expression. Hashirama stops by his side.

"When did you get the eye?"

"Fourteen years ago."

"Name your students."

What? Kakashi narrows his eyes, but the effect is ruined by focusing just over Madara's shoulder instead of looking directly into his eyes.

"Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Sasuke, and Uzumaki Naruto." Kakashi doesn't know where this is leading but they have stopped fighting for the moment. The forest around them continues to burn, a considerable fire that should be visible from the village but isn't in danger of consuming it…yet.

"Oh! The Uzumaki from the ramen bar!" Hashirama looks at Madara, hostile expression sliding off his face.

Of course, Naruto managed to find them. Why did he expect anything less from Minato-sensei's son?

"You're really a Konoha nin? You were sent by the Sarutobi?" Madara asks.

"Yep. He said you two ran away, he was worried you got lost in the village." It wasn't technically a lie, only the lesser truth of Sandaime worrying that Madara was about to burn the village down.

"Ugh, he was too busy talking to that creepy advisor," Hashirama folds his arms behind his head and the tension bleeds from Madara's shoulders, "we wanted to explore so we did. It's our village, after all."

Madara nods in agreement and Kakashi sighs in relief when he blinks and his eyes turn black. Kakashi holsters his own kunai and pulls his headband down. His adrenaline is starting to wear off and he can feel every bruise and small cut, his busted ribs and the deep throbbing wound on his shoulder. He didn't use the Sharingan enough for it to be a problem, but the eye pulses angrily anyway.

"We should probably put out the fires before leaving," Madara glances back at the flames and as much as he doesn't want to, Kakashi has to agree.

After a fumbling, awkward moment Kakashi ducks away from the two terrors to perform a suiton, or at least he tries to. To his surprise, Hashirama follow him after he and Madara have a silent conversation with a lot of pointed looks and exaggerated huffs until Madara rolls his eyes and walks away.

"Uh, yes?" Kakashi slumps forward, hands in his pockets. He's ready for this night to end. He expected the God of Shinobi not this baby godling. For the first time, Kakashi really looks at child that became the strongest man in the world.

The bowl-cut is hideous.

Gai must never be allowed to see him.

"You're a tracker, right? That's why you work with ninken despite not being an Inuzuka?" Hashirama asks with a smile.

"Yeah…" Where is this going?

Kakashi soon has his answer: nowhere.

Hashirama starts rambling on about something tangentially related to dogs? He tries to follow along for a few seconds before giving up altogether and letting the boy's voice become background chatter. Instead, Kakashi forms his suiton signs and starts to douse the fires. It's annoying, spitting water through his mask, and he can't help but glare down at the still-rambling child.

And Hashirama keeps rambling.

The.

Entire.

Time.

They make their way towards Madara and Kakashi desperately wants to hoist terror number two back onto terror number one. But before he can, Hashirama reaches up to tug on his sleeve. It jostles his injured shoulder and Kakashi barely bites back a wince when he looks down at the grinning boy.

"You were listening to me, right Hatake?" He asks, eyes crinkled shut from size of his smile.

"Uh-huh," they're almost to Madara. It's a relief Kakashi didn't know could exist, one that seemed impossible even twenty minutes ago.

"Great! That's the best thing about the village, after all. Everyone knows how much Madara means to me," when did he start talking about Madara, "because he is, you know. My best friend. My most precious person."

Hashirama is still smiling when he yanks hard on Kakashi's injured arm. This time Kakashi can't hold back his snarl and flinch. Hashirama brings his hands together into one mokuton sign and every spike of wood retracts back into the ground. He keeps holding the sign though, medical chakra covering his hands once again.

He's still smiling, the green light forming sharp, sinister shadows on his face.

"I'm a med-nin, you know. I'd be happy to look at your injuries."

The light brightens, the shadows deepen, and Kakashi feels the first stirring of actual disquiet and fear in his gut.

"Hashirama! I'm done, stop messing around!" Madara yells and the spell breaks.

Hashirama's smile shrinks into something smaller and more real. He turns away from Kakashi, again without a backward look, to run and crash headfirst into Madara. Kakashi lets out a slow breath, trying to calm his pounding heart.

This, he thinks as he watches Hashirama trail his hands over Madara's face and chest, definitely unnecessary for simple healing, is not his problem.

"This is your problem," Hiruzen mutters, handing him two keys and a slip of paper, "at least for tonight. Your replacement tomorrow will be capable of controlling Madara along with one Danzou's people."

"Sandaime-sama," Kakashi says cheerily as he crushes the paper and keys in his fist, "I'm a jonin-sensei, remember? I have a responsibility to train my genin tomorrow, bright and early."

Hiruzen stares unblinkingly at him, huffing on his pipe. Kakashi stares back.

On the far side of the office Hashirama and Madara sit pressed together, a map of the village spread open between them.

"Kakashi, I am not above begging. This is an unprecedented situation that has spiraled out of control. The ANBU have been talking," gossiping, "the village knows there's a second Uchiha. The clans are already demanding answers and we don't yet know how long they're going to be here."

Kakashi hums but doesn't say anything. Hiruzen explained the bare-bones situation to him and the two terrors. Unknown amount of time to fix the jutsu that landed them here, probably months, and they needed to be supervised. The village needed a reason for them to suddenly spring from the wood-work, just public enough to appease the clans, and out of the way for normal civilians before they panicked.

A genin team.

Hiruzen wanted to assign the God of Shinobi and the Ghost of the Uchiha to a genin team.

Kakashi feels a sudden rush of relief that he didn't fail Team 7, otherwise he knows it'd be his ass that would be responsible for them. They'd have to do actual D level missions to keep up the ruse, though Kakashi has no doubt Hiruzen and Danzou will eventually get over their disgust of having Madara around and assign them ANBU level assassination contracts. An elite team masquerading as genin had a lot of potential uses, especially as they did international missions.

There were always rumors from Suna and Kiri plus the Akatsuki surfaced every few years to cause an international headache.

Keeping them out of the village too would probably be best. Madara was going to find out about the Uchiha sooner rather than later, if he hasn't already. Kakashi saw how morose he was when Hiruzen first gave them the map and Madara's hand hovered over the Uchiha compound. But the larger issue, the bomb waiting to go off, would be Madara's death.

In the long walk back to the Hokage Tower, Kakashi accepted he has no idea what the real history of the village is. Too much time and propaganda has passed for that. But the one that people will tell the terrors, Madara betrayed the village, attacked it, and then Hashirama killed him…won't go over well.

Before Kakashi would have bet his money on Madara being the one to snap and attack, and he still might, what with the Uchiha Massacre and both the Nidaime and Sandaime's treatment of the clan. But now…

Kakashi glances at the terrors as Hiruzen continues to stress how important it is they keep everything under control between pipe huffs.

Now if someone told Hashirama he killed Madara after the other betrayed the village…Kakashi isn't sure the unfortunate messenger would be alive after that conversation. His ribs twinge in pain. If Madara did find out about his clan and decide to defect a second time Hashirama would go with him.

Then what? They were stuck here until Hiruzen fixed the jutsu and would undoubtedly have the Yamanaka wipe their memories.

This is too complicated. Kakashi pinches the bridge of his nose and turns away from Hiruzen. He's still bleeding and he can feel a rib, definitely broken, pressing painfully into his lung. The sooner he escorts them back and plays watchdog over Madara, the sooner he can patch himself up and crawl into bed before his afternoon training with Team 7.

"Oi, terrors, come on. I'm showing you your new places," Kakashi slouches over, reliving the barest pressure on his shoulder and rib, fighting against a sigh of relief.

Madara looks up first, confused until Kakashi jerks his head towards the door.

"Come on, Hashi, he's…he's talking to us," the boy fights through a yawn and Kakashi is struck once again by how young they are.

Child soldiers. Madara stands, rubbing his eyes as Hashirama sluggishly follows, map in his hand. Cold-blooded killers. Hashirama throws an arm around Madara's shoulders, making him grumble and shift to accommodate Hashirama's weight. Nothing's changed. All this time and they're still at square one.

Kakashi turns and walks out.

He knows as soon as he reads the nearest address Madara's apartment is shit. Center of the slums, the poorest block in Konoha that would make some other parts of the red-light district look safe and welcoming by comparison. Hashirama's isn't much better, it's right on the edge in the kind of apartment-style that favored new ninja who didn't have clan compounds to fall back on.

Deal with terror number two first. He'd have to backtrack anyway to keep watch over Madara and Kakashi was in no mood to walk across the entire red-light district with Hashirama alone. It was slow going, the boys getting sidetracked to stare up at the bright lanterns and blinking lights. They're still on the edge, so most shops have a legal cover, late-night parlors, private drinking bars, closed clubs. Kakashi nudges them along, it's a bad idea to stop and stare at anything in the red-light district, even here in relative safety. Not that Kakashi thinks someone would actually get the jump on the terrors, but two supposedly genin level students killing civilians, even in self-defense, would be messy.

Finally, they make it to the apartment block, recently renovated and still mostly vacant. Kakashi unlocks door and ushers them up six flights of stairs.

"Why couldn't we just run up the side?" Madara mutters when they finally reach the right landing.

"Civilians don't care for twelve-year-olds running up the sides of buildings," Kakashi says as he unlocks the apartment door. "Don't do it."

"This is a ninja village; they should be used to it." Hashirama says through a yawn.

"Anyways, I'm going to wash the blood off and then we'll head to your apartment, Madara." Kakashi steps in and flips the light on. It's a small studio apartment, minimally furnished, but clean.

"I thought Hashirama and I were sharing," Madara says before Kakashi can escape to the small bathroom. He turns back to see not one, but two stubborn, petulant faces and wishes he told the initial ANBU agent to leave and find someone else. How again did this become his problem?

"Is Madara's little house through one of the other nearby doors?" Hashirama asks.

"No, it's in a different building. Forty-minute walk or so by civilian speed." As soon as he says it, Kakashi knew he shouldn't have. Madara, ironically the easier terror to deal with, scowls and crosses his arms while moving further into the apartment.

"No, I'm not leaving. I refuse." Kakashi is surprised this little declaration isn't accompanied with stomping. "Show me where the basin is so I can wash up and sleep." He glares up at Kakashi.

"I don't mind! I wanna share, so there's really no reason Madara can't live here." Hashirama slides between them, relatching onto Madara's arm. He had been forced to let him go when they were climbing the stairs.

Except that Hiruzen and Danzou might have an aneurysm each.

Kakashi can see the bed. The one, singular twin-sized bed.

This is not my problem.

He pivots and heads towards the bathroom. He almost gets the door closed, but Hashirama shoves his foot in the door at the last second.

"What's this? Why's the door the same one as outside?" Hashirama pushes his way in, dragging Madara with him.

"This house is strange. A tiny box next to other tiny boxes, no shoji, no tatami, and now that. What is that?" Madara points at the toilet and Kakashi doesn't know whether he should laugh or cry.

He's definitely encouraging Naruto to deface the Hokage mountain tomorrow. Kakashi's ribs twinge. Definitely.

Twenty minutes later, he's successfully explained the basics of plumbing and electricity to the terrors with only a…few mishaps. Kakashi turns on the sink faucet and immediately gets shoved aside as the two terrors crowd around it to stare. A quick explanation of the toilet and flushing it. He has to pull them away before they try to take off the tank cover. The shower, especially hot water, is met with fascination and Kakashi getting drenched as he struggles to keep Hashirama out of the stream.

Of course Madara slips by him, standing under the water fully clothed.

"Hn, this is admittedly superior to a wash basin."

Kakashi gives up and lets Hashirama go. Terror two scrambles into the tub and nearly knocks terror one over in his haste. Kakashi goes and finds the thin, cheap towels. After leaving their clothes out to dry on the shower rod, they make their way to the kitchen.

It takes ten minutes to explain the microwave.

Ten. Minutes.

And Madara still looks suspicious at the end.

The fridge and freezer are met with similar fanfare as the shower, and Kakashi has to grip Hashirama by his towel so he doesn't try to squeeze into the fridge. Finally, the lights. Kakashi flicks the light switch off and then on. Then he watches as Madara and Hashirama take turns rapidly flipping it up and down. The bulb sputters out with a hiss and Madara lights his hand on fire. Not a flame above it. His entire hand. On fire. Kakashi doesn't question this.

Instead, he goes to finds a spare lightbulb.

"Don't drop this, it'll break." He hands the dead bulb to Hashirama.

Hashirama drops it.

Glass shatters on the floor and all three of them stare down at it.

"Why didn't you catch it?" Kakashi looks at Madara. "You're fast enough."

"I wanted to see if it'd break."

"It's glass."

"Didn't look like any glass I'd ever seen."

Kakashi cleans it up and with that he's done.

"Here, have a rations bar and go to bed. I'll be on roof until your sensei gets here tomorrow." He throws the bar and Madara snatches it out of the air. He also tries to bite directly into it and gets a mouth full of plastic. God are all twelve-year-olds like this? Kakashi suddenly has a foreboding feeling about Team 7 as he makes his way back to the bathroom. He closes and locks the door, not that it'd do a lot of good if the terrors really decided they need in.

He's surprised there's no squabbling over the food and soon the apartment falls suspiciously quiet. Kakashi treats his wounds the best he can, wrapping his ribs, cleaning and stitching up his shoulder.

Once he's finished and the bathroom is clean, he leaves.

To his complete and utter expectation, the terrors are curled tightly together on the bed, towels discarded haphazardly on the floor. The only unexpected thing, if he could even call it that, was Hashirama was splayed out on his back, arms dangling off the bed. It was Madara who was clinging and curled tightly to his chest.

Not my problem.

Let Tenzo deal with it, poor bastard.

Tenzo

Tenzo isn't exactly unhappy with this situation. He's feeling a lot of things, so much that it's hard to sort through all the emotions and he winds up more numb than anything. He's not sure if that's echoes of ROOT's programming after all these years or just the incredibly strange situation he's found himself in.

Because, oddly enough, this is exactly what he's always wanted just…warped a bit.

Tenzo liked being on a team. He liked being part of something whole and larger than himself. Being surrounded by people who cared for you was the exact opposite of ROOT where everything was done in painful isolation and the death of another ROOT member could be assigned at any time, for any reason.

And as much as ANBU was a breath of fresh air from ROOT, Tenzo quickly learned it still wasn't…good. Just less bad. And he wanted out. He wanted out even before Itachi…did what he did and Kakashi got honorably discharged.

Tenzo wanted to be a teacher. Once he gained enough of his emotions back and could actually answer questions about what he liked and disliked, he knew he wanted to be a teacher.

But Tenzo had no living family and was the only successful mokuton experiment. Despite slowly being able to process emotions and think of himself as a person again, he was still trained and conditioned with ROOT's lethal efficiency.

He was perfect for ANBU.

They wouldn't let him go without a reason.

Tenzo had no friends or family on the outside to petition the Sandaime to discharge him for his mental health like Kakashi did. Only the knowledge that ANBU was better than ROOT and if he made too much fuss he could always be sent back…

Every year he petitioned to be discharged and assigned as a jonin-sensei and every year he was denied. Instead, he was put on the fast track towards captain.

Every year his old teammates cycled out and new ones cycled in, faceless animal masks and codenames, without a sense of comradery.

Tenzo was tired.

But then one Senju Hashirama and one Uchiha Madara fell out of time. Two twelve-year-olds who had already stirred the village up and needed a quick and immediate cover story. Tenzo had no living family and was the only successful mokuton experiment. Despite slowly being able to process emotions and think of himself as a person again, he was still trained and conditioned with ROOT's lethal efficiency.

He was perfect for keeping Madara in line.

Sarutobi told him to expect a ROOT agent to show up after he met the other two to finish out his four-man team.

Tenzo is a jonin-sensei.

Sort of.

He decides it'd be better to meet Hashirama first, both boys had been informed of Sarutobi's plan, but Tenzo still thinks he should try and start with a good impression. The Shodai was famed for his easy-going personality and charisma, Tenzo should be alright with the child-version of that. Right?

He shushins on top of the roof and meets Kakashi's bleary, red-eyed gaze.

"Ma, ma Tenzo, about time you showed up." He pushes himself to his feet from where he was leaning against the roof's door.

"Kakashi-senpai, are you injured?" Tenzo asks as they walk into the building and head down towards Hashirama's apartment. "And weren't you assigned to guard Madara's apartment? Why are you here?"

Kakashi doesn't answer, instead comes to a stop several feet away from the door marked with a '613'.

"Listen, Tenzo. Those brats are terrors, yes Hashirama too. No especially Hashirama. You need to drop whatever preconceived notions you have right now before you get stabbed," he rubs his right shoulder gingerly.

"Kakashi-senpai…are you saying Senju Hashirama stabbed you?" A Konoha nin? Was there some sort of mix-up? Genjutsu?

"No, Madara did. Hashirama broke my ribs. Anyway, they're your terrors now. Have fun!" Kakashi pats him on the shoulder, smiling under his mask before he shushins away.

He really needs to get some sleep. Tenzo thinks as he walks up to the door.

He knocks twice but before he can call out, a kunai slams into the door, the tip peeking through the wood.

What in the—

"Uh, sorry about that!" A muffled voice calls. Footsteps thud from inside and the door is flung open to reveal a brown-skinned boy with only a towel around his waist. Tenzo's eyes go to the bowl cut and stay on it for an uncomfortably long time. "Madara is still half-asleep, he didn't get you, did he?" Hashirama asks as he pries the kunai out of the door.

"No I'm fine…" Tenzo trails off as he looks into the apartment. The bed is barely visible from the door, but Uchiha Madara is quite easy to see. His head is a dark spot against the white sheets and one bare arm hangs off the side.

"Madara!" Hashirama yells and Tenzo flinches at the volume. "Get up, our jonin-sensei is here!" The boy on the bed grumbles and turns over. Hashirama isn't deterred, he runs back towards the bed and jumps on it, jostling Madara and almost sending him flying.

Tenzo walks in and closes the door softly behind him, letting it support his entire weight as he slumps back against it.

He didn't know what to expect from Hashirama and Madara, really. There were no records of when they first met. They could have been total strangers at twelve or already enemies from a centuries-long blood feud. Tenzo hoped for more indifference and civility, at best. At worst, he expected to deal with two heirs of enemy clans, constantly fighting who would have to be carefully monitored and restrained, lest they kill one another.

He did not anticipate this.

This being Hashirama wrapping his arms around Madara's torso to drag him into a sitting position and the other allowing it, even letting his head fall back on Hashirama's chest.

"Come on, get up!"

"No."

"Madara!"

"No."

"I'll drop you off the side of the bed."

"No, you won't."

"I bet sensei will take us to get food—" Hashirama barely finishes the word before Madara's eyes snap open and he bolts upright. He turns to face Tenzo and, oddly enough, there's something akin to mortification in his eyes as he jumps up and ties a second discarded towel around his waist. He rushes to stand in front of Tenzo, back ramrod straight. Hashirama follows at a slower pace, scratching his belly.

"You're the jonin sensei?" Madara asks.

Tenzo feels like he's the one who ended up in a different time. He manages to nod.

And then Uchiha Madara bows to him. Bows deeply and respectfully until his body is at a perfect ninety-degree angle.

"I am honored to serve under a master such as yourself, I will not bring shame or dishonor to your name." He keeps the pose and after a long fifteen seconds, pointedly clears his throat and glares at Hashirama, who's standing idly by. "Hashirama."

"Huh?"

Hashirama snaps to attention, looking between Tenzo, who's still shell-shocked, and Madara, who's still bowing.

"Show some respect," Madara hisses, raising his head just enough to jerk it towards Tenzo.

"Oh…oh!" Hashirama turns to him with a bright grin. "Nice to meet you, sensei who's name I don't know!" He bows but it looks more like a chicken bobbing its head than a formal greeting. "Why'd they pick you to watch over us, anyway?"

Madara's bow deepens even further. A few more inches and his nose will touch his kneecaps.

"I apologize for his insolence, sensei."

You need to drop whatever preconceived notions you have right now before you get stabbed. Kakashi had said. Tenzo…Tenzo thinks he understands now.

After gathering his wits, introducing himself as "Yamato," and giving them their headbands, Tenzo finds himself walking down the market streets with two squabbling boys in front of him. Both are dressed, he's still a bit confused and concerned about that, but he's treating this entire first meeting like a fight. You don't have time to stop and ask every question, you have to roll with the punches.

And since he doesn't have to go get Madara, he'd asked if Madara was visiting and was met by a frankly unnerving smile from Hashirama, it was off to the markets for supplies and breakfast before the start of their first mission.

Tenzo was given a stipend from the Sandaime to outfit Madara and Hashirama for combat missions and buy groceries. Until the problem with the time travel jutsu was figured out, Tenzo was commanded to treat them as an actual genin team, full of training and missions. And for that, they needed more than one kunai between them.

Both Hashirama and Madara were legendary figures, the epitome of powerful ninja. Tenzo didn't delude himself into thinking theirs would be a normal genin team by any means but…shouldn't two of the most powerful shinobi throughout time…know how to lower their voices?

"I know you came up with 'hokage' Hashirama, only you could think of something that stupid!"

"It's a cool name, Madara!"

"It's fire! Fire does not have a shadow! It's a source of light!"

"Oh yeah? Well you probably came up with 'Konohagakure' because that's so literal and boring!"

They're walking side by side and yelling at each other like they were across the village.

At least they are until crowds appear on the streets. It's only then that the yelling and bickering over absolutely nothing drops off and the two, Madara especially, become nearly mute. He presses up against Hashirama's shoulder, his hand closing around the other boy's.

The ninja weapon and supply store is their first stop.

Inside, it's the kind of chaos Tenzo thinks civilian children would make inside a candy store. Hashirama beelines for the clothes section and Madara towards the weapons. Clothes fly off their racks, weapons are picked through with delight. Tenzo follows Madara, concerned when he sees the boy stop, already with handfuls of kunai and shuriken, to grin up at the largest scythe on the wall.

"Ah, Madara make sure you choose something suited to your…size."

The scythe is twice as tall as he is.

Madara doesn't pout, but only barely.

"I could use it, I know how…but I guess I wouldn't be able to use it paired with a gunbai." There isn't a warfan on the walls. Fans, uncommon in Konoha to begin with, all but disappeared under the Nidaime's reign when they became symbolic of Madara himself. Tenzo forces down his shudder and turns to look at the wall of katanas and smaller tantos set next to them.

"Yamato-sensei," Madara says before Tenzo could suggest he look at something else, "do you know if the other Uchiha artifacts were persevered after the…after the…"

He knows about the Massacre.

Madara's throat works but he looks closer to tears rather than unbridled rage or bloodlust.

"I think most are still in the shrines," Tenzo says carefully.

Even before the massacre, the Uchiha compound was sealed to prevent any unwanted visitors, any non-Uchiha. Compromises had to be made for certain village enemies, but they were fiercely protective of their secrets. It's why Itachi had to be the one to kill them…who else could have entered the compound? Even now, the seals remain. Untended and weak, but no one visits the compound except Sasuke who lives there. It's abandoned land, rotting and dead. More suited for ghosts than the living. There's been no plundering, as far as Tenzo knows, but unless things were sealed or protected inside the compound…

"I didn't know Sarutobi told you about the…"

"He didn't. Naruto did, by accident." The jinchuriki? How has he already met the jinchuriki? Tenzo feels a headache building between his eyes. "It doesn't matter, obviously the gunbai was destroyed and I hadn't fully mastered all the techniques yet anyway. I just…I don't like that everything was taken from my family in one fell swoop. Their lives, their artifacts, their legacies…" Madara shuffles his weapons to rub at his eyes.

Before Tenzo can say anything, before he can try and comfort Uchiha Madara, Hashirama rushes up, a bundle of brightly colored clothes in his arms.

"Hey, Madara! Look at this—what's wrong?" He moves closer, worry and concern written on his face. But then Hashirama looks up, looks up at Tenzo and the burning, furious rage he half expected to see on Madara's face is instead on Hashirama's.

What did you do to him? Goes unspoken.

"Nothing, I just got a bit emotional," Madara mumbles, cheeks flushing bright red. He nods at the scythe and Hashirama looks at it, then back at Madara. The rage is gone.

"Ohhh, ok. Come here and look at all this cool stuff I found! There are so many bright colors in the future!" Hashirama tugs Madara away, successfully distracting him.

"Great, your fashion sense is going to get even worse, isn't it? I thought you already reached rock bottom but here you are," Madara taunts half-heartedly and Hashirama whines, draping himself against the other.

You need to drop whatever preconceived notions you have right now before you get stabbed. Kakashi had said. Tenzo is struck with the sudden realization that, if one of his new students is going to stab him, it won't be Madara.

He follows the two of them around the store in a daze.

"Why don't they have the full mantles?" Madara asks as he holds up a high-collared short-sleeve shirt.

"'Cause they're bor—"

Madara throws the shirt at Hashirama and picks out several more identical ones, only varying by shades of purple.

Hashirama, through much nagging from Madara and a few comments from Tenzo himself, eventually settles on the third or fourth most outrageous thing he found on. Tenzo isn't sure what it is, except it has a plunging neckline and lots of green and red.

"I don't know what was wrong with my first choice," Hashirama pouts as Tenzo pays at the front. Thankfully the weapons portion went smoother. Hashirama had a small battlescroll with basic weapons, a medic kit strapped to one side, and a katana on the other.

"It was a scrap of a shirt! It wouldn't have even covered your ribs!" Madara says as he takes his clothes and weapons from the counter. He has a katana like Hashirama, with an additional tanto to strap on the small of his back and several packs of kunai, shuriken, and spools of ninja wire.

"That Uzumaki kid was wearing orange, I don't see why I couldn't wear…Madara?"

"Izuna?" Madara's not looking at them, his eyes are locked on someone outside the shop. He races past Hashirama, out onto the street. Tenzo hurries to take his change from the cashier and rushes after Hashirama, who's already running after Madara.

Tenzo is numb at this point, so seeing Madara smother a pale ROOT agent in a hug doesn't even make him flinch.

"For the third time, I am not Izuna. Unhand me, now. This is not professional or appropriate behavior for teammates."

Tenzo knew, logically when Hiruzen said a ROOT agent would be assigned to complete their four-man team, the agent would be young. Young enough to pass for a genin. Or, Tenzo thinks, stomach turning, no older than the other genin.

Madara doesn't let the boy go so he reaches for the tanto on his back. Tenzo steps to intervene, a fight is the last thing they need, but Hashirama beats him to it. He crashes into the two of them, a large smile plastered across his face but when Madara and the agent stand with identical grumbles, he purposefully puts himself between them.

"You're an Uchiha, right? You gotta be with the, uh, face," Hashirama waves his hand at the agent.

"I am not."

"Really? You sure?"

"Yes." He's only twelve but Tenzo knows how early their conditioning starts and the emotional repression sets in. It's amazing that with only one conversation Hashirama has broken through enough barriers to get the agent to express irritation.

"So what is your name?" Hashirama leans forward, squinting at the smaller boy. "Why can he wear one of the short shirts, if I can't?" This is directed back at Madara, who swats Hashirama's shoulder.

Tenzo panics, in the confusion and rush they may not have given him a codename for the mission—

"My name is Sai," he huffs, raising his chin and looking Hashirama up and down, "you must Senju Hashirama…I expected more from such a legendary historical figure." Hashirama freezes, slumping over against Madara, a dark cloud over his head.

"Stop acting so depressed," Madara complains but doesn't shove him off.

"Definitely an Uchiha. He's so mean—" Now Madara shoves Hashirama away and the ROOT agent, Sai, laughs when he falls to the ground.

You need to drop whatever preconceived notions you have right now before you get stabbed.

Tenzo…will never get used to this situation. And accepting that, he paradoxically feels better about it.

Sai

Sai is…technically not a ROOT agent.

He's one of the best in the agency but he's still technically a junior agent. He hasn't graduated to full agent status, but neither has Shin. They were supposed to go with Danzou next week to complete the mysterious assignment required for full graduation but with the sudden incident that scrambled all of ROOT…well.

Sai is technically not a ROOT agent, but he is the best of his age-group and Danzou assigned him to be the fourth man in the newly created Team 13. If it came down to it, he and the ex-ROOT leader, does he still have a curse seal? no one just leaves ROOT, not alive, should be able to easily overpower Uchiha Madara.

But, after his first interaction with the two time-travelers, Sai thinks Danzou is short-sighted not to realize the actual danger: Senju Hashirama is the most annoying person Sai has ever met.

He doesn't know why but the other rubs him the wrong way.

He has a stupid face. Sai thinks as Yamato drags them to an old-fashioned restaurant.

There's also the fact that Senju Hashirama would kill anyone that threatened Uchiha Madara.

Said isn't an idiot. He recognized the look in Hashirama's eyes, so quick it was gone in a flash, when he tried to pull his tanto on Madara after he insisted on hugging him.

ROOT isn't interested in teaching its agents anything that doesn't help them complete missions. History definitely falls under that category but Shin likes to read smuggled books. And whenever he's bedridden due to his illness, he likes to quietly recite the passages to Sai to help him memorize them.

Senju Hashirama killed Uchiha Madara.

Sai knows not to trust anything written in books that you haven't written or drawn yourself. The proof is right in front of him. Right in front of him and trying to crawl into Madara's lap as they wait for their breakfast to be brought out.

"Boys," Yamato scolds as Hashirama's knee smacks into the table and rattles it.

Interestingly it's Madara who straightens and nearly smacks his head against Hashirama's in an effort to bow to Yamato.

"I'm sorry sen—"

"You're fine Madara," Yamato's face spasms a bit at that, "but Hashirama, please sit in your own seat." Hashirama pouts and it isn't until Madara jabs him with his elbow that he whines and slips back into his own chair. He hunches forward, chin on his palm, tapping one chopstick mindlessly against the table.

Tap. Tap, tap. Tap. Tap, tap, tap.

Sai's eye starts to twitch.

Yamato clears his throat and the chopstick stops. "I was planning to tell you all after breakfast, but I suppose now will do. We have our first mission tonight."

"Already? Who are we assassinating?" Madara asks as their server sets the first dishes in front of them. She shoots him a concerned look.

"No one," Yamato sighs, "and please don't ask that in a public restaurant. It's impolite."

"Really? So we're sabotaging something, or someone," Hashirama guesses as more plates are put in front of them.

"No. You're genin, technically. We're escorting a caravan to a border town between Fire Country and the Land of Hot Water." Madara and Hashirama look at each other.

"Are we…at war with the Land of Hot Water?" Madara asks.

"Is it a super important caravan? Weapons? Seals? Prisoners?" Hashirama asks.

"No, just civilians passing through Konoha from the Land of Tea. They're bringing a tea shipment to serve at the local onsen," Yamato says as the final dish is set down.

"And you can just, uh, hire ninjas to guard…tea? Normal tea?" Hashirama asks, but Sai's not paying attention to him any more. He's watching Madara practically inhale his food. As soon as the server walked away, he picked up his chopsticks and dragged every bowl closer to him.

"Yes, technically we should start out with D-level missions in the village, not a C-level but…" Yamato trails off, eyes on Madara, "Madara slow down. You're going to make yourself sick." He does slow down, but only a bit.

Sai picks at his own breakfast at a moderate, normal pace.

Madara finishes what's in front of him in record time and then turns towards Hashirama, who's been eating the slowest out of all of them. He stares at Hashirama. Begging, Sai realizes with a thrill, the great Uchiha Madara begging for food. Shin would never believe him.

Hashirama slides his dishes over.

"Boys," Yamato scolds but it doesn't stop Madara from picking up where he left off and scarfing down the food. "Madara, Hashirama needs to eat his own food. He needs it—"

"No, I don't," Hashirama interrupts.

"You're twelve, you're growing, you're an active ninja, yes you do. You need to keep up your energy," Yamato pushes back.

"Yeah, energy, but I don't need to eat that much. I've got water," Sai did notice he'd been drinking an awful lot, from his cup and Madara's, "and plenty of sun."

"You're not a plant, Hashirama," Yamato says, but it comes out more like a question.

"Actually Tobirama thinks I'm one-eighth of a plant. Or more like there's something weird about my body," Yamato flinches ever so slightly at that, "and it does this weird photosynthesis thing like plants and makes energy from sunlight. So I don't need to eat as much and Madara should eat what I'm not going to. Otherwise it'd be wasteful," Hashirama smiles and Yamato's shoulders slump.

"You still need to eat actual food."

"Of course," Hashirama agrees and slides Madara another bowl.

After breakfast, they finish going over the details of the mission. It's less of an actual mission and more like a vacation. They'll accompany the caravan on the four day's journey to the border town, stay there for a night at an inn, and then do some training while heading back to the village.

"Are we going to be training on our way there too?" Sai asks as Yamato pays for breakfast.

"Not much since we'll be working."

It's hardly work. It's guarding a tea caravan. Sai and Shin did more on their very first day of ROOT training. If he had to guess, this part of the mission is more about getting a feel for Madara and Hashirama. Learning their behaviors and, just in case Madara goes crazy all of a sudden, having it done away from the village.

Sai knew when Danzou assigned him the mission that he'd have to be on a genin team, be around other people but Sai didn't realize what that really meant until he was forced to be in close quarters with his 'team.'

It was terrible.

That evening they set out alongside the caravan. It was an entire family of merchants traveling together. They had six covered carts pulled by horses, full of aromatic tea. Yamato sat or walked alongside the first cart and Sai sat watch in the back cart. Hashirama and Madara were supposed to be walking alongside them or in the third cart but here they were in the back cart, pestering him.

Which they had been doing for hours.

"You draw? What are you drawing? Can I see?" Hashirama bumps into Sai, trying to peek over his shoulder to see.

"Izuna likes to paint. Do you know how to do that?" Madara asks looking over his other shoulder.

"Hey, hey Madara. What are the chances that we'd get paired with an Uchiha that looks like your brother and has his hobbies? What if Sai was Izuna reincarnated? Wouldn't that be crazy?"

"I am not an Uchiha and I am not your brother!" Sai shouts, throwing up his hands. His sketchbook remains open on his lap, abstract forgotten.

"I never said you were, that was Hashirama," Madara huffs and crosses his arm.

"I have my own brother! I don't want to be yours!" Sai yells and considers pulling out his scrolls to summon something just to chase them out.

"You can have multiple brothers," Hashirama adds and Sai screams, tearing at his hair.

"The Uchiha are a proud and noble clan, the chosen of the Sun. It'd be the highest honor to have our name," Madara smirks, raising his chin.

"Yeah and they're all dead," Sai mutters and Hashirama sucks in a sharp breath, that dangerous look flashing in his eyes again.

"That's why you get adopted in, to rebuild the clan dumbass," Madara kicks Sai's leg. "And I could technically do it," he looks thoughtful now, rubbing his chin and Sai feels his stomach drop, he's serious, "since I'm technically the clan head now."

"Your cover story is you're a bastard," Sai reminds him, hoping that derails this entire conversation. Madara scowls, obviously displeased, but it doesn't stop him.

"I have a sharingan. Does Sasuke?" Madara asks and both he and Hashirama kick at Sai's legs until he spits out a 'no.' "See? The only person who could even challenge me would be the Hatake, but the thief's scar disqualifies him, even if he did get it in an accident. And since you have no clan to contest the claim, it's as good as done. Congratulations little brother," and before Sai could protest Madara pulls him into a headlock and ruffles his hair.

This is really happening.

Sai has been trained to recognize a no-win situation. This, somehow, counts.

"Fine. On one condition," Sai mutters, his face pressed uncomfortably against Madara's armpit, "my actual brother also gets honorary adopted or whatever. I'm not putting up with this alone."

"Deal. See that Hashirama? I just doubled the amount of Uchiha in the village."

It wouldn't matter. As soon as the Sandaime figured out the jutsu or Sai got the kill command for Madara, Danzou would just change it back. Another name dropped, like every one before.

But still…

It almost sounds…nice to be part of a clan.

Pity it had to be Madara's.

Madara

"You did what?" Yamato-sensei asks when they stop for the night and Madara announces he's named Sai an Uchiha. Madara thinks it's something he should tell his sensei. He's not sure how Konoha's teaching system works, but he wants to be a good student.

"I said, Sai's an Uchiha now. He's my little brother," Madara remembers the other brother, "and his older brother Shin too. They're both my little brothers."

Yamato-sensei blinks.

Opens his mouth.

Blinks.

Closes his mouth.

Blinks.

Opens his mouth again.

"And you agreed to this?" He asks Sai as the merchants unload their camping supplies and unhook the horses from the carts.

"I wasn't given much of a choice," Sai huffs and crosses his arms. "Besides, Shin is older than us both so he's now the eldest—"

"No, I am. I was born first, that makes me the eldest." Madara is not going to be a younger brother. He's the eldest.

"You're twelve—"

"Technically we're like a hundred and twelve," Hashirama adds with a grin.

"And you…want Sai to be an Uchiha?" Yamato-sensei interrupts before they can start squabbling.

"Yes." Madara still doesn't understand the time travel issue, and he supposes ultimately it doesn't matter if he and Hashirama just go back to the past and make better decisions. They'll still be dead by this present time, so he won't get to see if Sai was an actual born Uchiha that got mixed up but…but that's at least a few months away.

Madara is one of two Uchiha in the village and he doesn't know Sasuke. He has Hashirama and that's grounding him but…there needs to be a clan. Madara needs a clan. Uchiha don't do well alone. And maybe it's different now but not having a clan name was a death sentence for him and Hashirama. You had no support, no family. A lone shinobi probably wouldn't survive against the hostile warbands. A lone shinobi definitely wouldn't survive the bad winters with famine and sickness.

"…alright. But please don't adopt anyone else before telling me first," Yamato-sensei says, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Yes, sensei!" Madara bows.

The next two days pass without any fanfare. Their mission is easy. At least in this way his and Hashirama's dream has been successful. If this is the kind of missions kids are sent on…there's no battlefield, no fighting.

It's kind of boring.

But Madara is happy for the break. Before he and Hashirama fell through the tear, the Uchiha had fought the Nara and those were always long, exhausting fights full of fire to disrupt their shadow techniques. Now all he has to do is occasionally sweep the area for chakra signatures, while Sai monitors the sky and Hashirama the ground.

In the back of the last cart, he leans on Hashirama's shoulder, watching as he carves a piece of wood. Sai, sitting across from them, coughs and mutters something that sounds like 'gay' under his breath as he draws. He's been doing it since the first night when they settled down in the merchants' camp. Yamato-sensei had first watch so Madara pushed Hashirama aside so he could wriggle into their sleeping bag and curl up behind him. Madara's not sure what about this seemed excessively happy to Sai, or why Yamato-sensei had a tired look on his face when he said it.

The future is strange.

Hashirama carves his little wooden statue. Madara's not sure what it's supposed to be. A frog? A fox? The cart jostles and the blade sinks into Hashirama's thumb. He heals himself with a huff and positions the knife again. And promptly slices it back into the same thumb.

Hashirama slumps against him, depressive mood setting in.

Madara takes the wooden statue and knife. Hashirama whines, high-pitched and loud about how unfair the jostling cart is and how he's never going to be able to do small or detailed things with the mokuton if he can't even get one tiny statuette right by hand. Madara hums under his breath and starts to carve the weird frog-fox.

Hashirama's not bad at carving when he's not being jostled and Madara has watched him do it before, once with the sharingan active. He's watched Hashirama a lot with his sharingan active, after its initial awakening. That was his fault too.

He'd gotten distracted and almost tumbled off another cliff. But unlike the most recent cliff-incident, the only thing below that particular cliff was a deep rocky ravine. If Hashirama fell there wouldn't be anything Madara could do. He would have died.

But he didn't fall. Madara caught him, pulled him back in the nick of time. He never forgot that moment, Hashirama wide-eyed with terror as his arms flailed but he kept tilting back. He could never forget it, that was the moment his sharingan awakened.

The very thought of losing Hashirama…

It was definitely awkward after he grabbed him. Madara flat on his back, gripping Hashirama's haori. Hashirama above him, still pale and staring down at red, spinning eyes. It should have ended their meetings, the carefully hidden truth revealed, but it didn't. Hashirama whispered he had suspected all along, what with his distinctive look. Madara was…less pleased when Hashirama drew the Senju symbol in the dirt and gestured exaggeratedly at himself. Technically they never said their surnames, but it was the flimsiest of excuses. But Madara didn't want to lose his best friend…even if he was a Senju.

One good thing about the revelation at least was the sharingan. Hashirama was more curious than afraid and Madara soon had his collection of perfectly captured memories.

Most of them were of Hashirama smiling…

Almost all of them were of Hashirama smiling…

But he had one sequence of carving, so he could carve the frog-fox! He promptly ignores the voice in his head that sounds like Izuna, mocking any artistic attempt Madara has tried in the past.

When Yamato-sensei comes to check on them sometime later, Hashirama's still pouting with his head in Madara's lap. Madara himself is ready to burn the insufferable carving and its weird malformed web-paws, beady off-center eyes, and large mocking grin. Across from them Sai is smiling widely complimenting the unique proportions and daring confidence that resulted in the frog-fox.

"Boys," he sighs, pulling himself into the cart next to Sai. "I know it's not a difficult mission but you still need to be on alert."

Madara straightens, jostling Hashirama. "We have been, Yamato-sensei. Sai has ink birds circling above, I've been reaching out to search for nearby chakra signatures on random intervals, and Hashirama is using the roots' network system to look for traps underneath the caravan."

Yamato-sensei blinks.

"Ah, well then…good job." Madara relaxes at the praise. Yamato-sensei clears his throat and his eyes dart around until they land on the frog-fox in Madara's hand. "What do you have there?"

"Nothing."

"My greatest failure!"

Madara and Hashirama say at the same time.

"Stop being so dramatic," Madara scolds, "I fixed it."

"Fixed is extremely generous," Sai mutters, glancing up from his sketchpad. Yamato-sensei still looks confused so after a moment's hesitation Madara hesitantly hands the frog-fox over.

"Hashi does wood carvings. They're supposed to help him visualize how to shape wood and keep its structure intact so he can control the mokuton better. The cart's jostling made it difficult, so I fixed it," Madara says, glaring at Sai who sticks his tongue out.

"The mokuton is just too hard and I have to figure out everything on my own," Hashirama pouts, staring up at the canvas cart top. He's frustrated, but not close to real tears yet. Madara runs his hand through Hashirama's hair, slipping the headband off so he can brush his bangs back from his forehead. The bowl-cut might look terrible, but Hashirama's hair is fine and soft. It slips through Madara's fingers like water, not hair.

"It's okay. You can do it, you'll figure it out," he whispers, trying to gentle his voice, and Hashirama slowly relaxes.

Across from them, Yamato-sensei looks down at the little frog-fox.

"I understand your frustration, Hashirama," Yamato-sensei says softly. Hashirama rolls on his side to squint at their teacher. Madara starts to pull his hand away but keeps in place after Hashirama makes a low noise of complaint.

"You do?"

Yamato-sensei smiles and clasps his hands together. The hand signs are different, but there's too few of them to being anything other than—

"Mokuton," Hashirama bolts upright, bracing his hand on Madara's thigh. A piece of the wooden cart has broken off and formed an exact replica of the frog-fox. "You…you have the mokuton. How do you have the mokuton? I'm the only one…you're a Senju!" Hashirama points at Yamato-sensei who chuckles and scratches his head.

"Well technically—"

"The mokuton is actually a kekkei genkai? And not unique to Hashirama?" Madara interrupts. Immediately he feels bad about cutting off their sensei, but he'd always thought…even the Uzumakis' rare kekkei genkai had to be passed down, it showed up at least once in every generation. Hashirama claimed there was mention about the Senju's forefather possessing a 'great power, one of the earth' but that always sounded flimsy to Madara.

"Well technically—"

"That's why you were assigned to be our jonin-sensei! So you could teach me! Are we related? Are you my cousin or something? Did I have kids? Did Tobirama have kids?! Are you my great-great something grand-nephew?" Hashirama asks, creeping closer and closer to Yamato-sensei until he shoves himself into the man's personal space.

"Calm down, there's no need to get worked up," Yamato-sensei gently pushes Hashirama back and out of his face. "I suppose I can teach you a few things, but considering you're the one who taught me, it'll just be—"

"I taught you? You must be really old Yamato-sensei!" Hashirama interrupts. Yamato-sensei's eye twitches and Madara mutters a low, "Hashirama" under his breath. "Or did I just live a super long time? Wait…old me isn't still alive right? Because that'd be super weird—"

"Hashirama," Yamato-sensei says, covering Hashirama's mouth with his hand, "no 'old you' is not alive. You kept a record on mokuton techniques, I learned from that. As far as I know, we're not related. I don't have a clan. I'm going to remove my hand now, take a deep breath and calm down. Okay?"

Hashirama nods and Yamato-sensei lets him go. He leans back, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

"You know, I could just do what Madara did and make you an honorary Senju! It'd make perfect sense too, since you have the kekkei genkai. That Uzumaki kid said there's no other Senju," Hashirama's voice warbles a bit, "so no one can tell me I can't. I'm clan head."

"You are, technically, the eldest but you'd have to fight your granddaughter for the title. And she's pretty terrifying," Yamato-sensei laughs.

"…I have a granddaughter?" Hashirama glances back at Madara. Madara's not...surprised, per say. Having heirs was important and expected, especially if the Senju wanted the mokuton to be passed down. He draws his knees up to his chest, frowning.

"Gay," Sai coughs and Yamato-sensei slaps a hand to his forehead.

The last day of their trip was equally as uneventful as the first few. Yamato-sensei does pull Hashirama aside for a bit to give him a few tips on the mokuton from his…future self? Past future self? Madara sits in the back cart with Sai again, watching him draw. He rests most of the final day, aware of the chakra signatures around them but lulled by smell of sharp tea leaves and steady motion of the cart on the road.

When they make it to the border town the merchant thanks Yamato-sensei with a little bag of tea leaves and then they're off.

"Are you boys ready for the inn?" Yamato-sensei asks as they make their way through the town. It's a small civilian settlement. Madara hasn't heard about any war in this age or seen any signs, yet it's still surprising to walk through the streets and see the casual way the civilians interact with one another. There is no side-eying, staring at the clan symbol on his back, or pointed remarks about potential allies or enemies. The fact that they'll let shinobi from Konoha freely stay at their inn, like they were just normal paying customers…

"Yeah, yeah! I can't wait for the bath!" Hashirama says, spinning around in circles as they walk.

"Madara?" Yamato-sensei looks at him.

"I've heard inns are supposed to have good food," he's heard mostly from Hashirama, but still. The Uchiha aren't known for their extensive civilian network and it was usually too dangerous to stay in inns on missions.

"You've never been?" Yamato-sensei asks as they turn down a street. Madara shakes his head, kicking at a stone in the road.

"What about you Sai? What are you looking forward to?"

"Having a pillow so I can smother Hashirama when he starts to snore," Sai smiles.

"Madara! He's being mean to me," Hashirama pouts. He's still spinning so he looks even more ridiculous than usual.

"Sai, don't be mean to Hashirama," Madara says half-heartedly, "but you really shouldn't snore, Hashi. What kind of a ninja snores?"

"I can't help it! It's not like I choose to! Plus you drool in your sleep! What's up with that, huh?!"

They squabble a bit more and Hashirama trips over his own feet and bumps into Madara, leading to a short scuffle in the middle of the road before Yamato-sensei picks both of them up and sets them apart.

Madara can see the inn in the distance, streamers flying in the wind. They're almost at the door when Sai, staring at the ground, asks: "What are you looking forward to at the inn, Yamato-sensei?"

"Ah you know what my favorite parts about inns are?" All three of them turn to look at him. "The slippers."

"But you can wear slippers anytime, Yamato-sensei," Hashirama says as they reach the door.

"Hmm true, but there's just something special about inn slippers."

After they check in and find their room, they head to the baths. Madara is surprised by the rush of relief he feels surrounded by tatami floors and shoji walls again. He strips out of his dirty clothes and follows Yamato-sensei into the washing area. It's full of showers like the one at his and Hashirama's tiny house, with only a few familiar buckets. Still, Madara grabs the soap and scrubs himself down under the water, cleaning off all of the traveling grime and sweat. He's rinsing his hair when Hashirama drags a stool and bucket over.

"Do my back?"

Madara sits down and dunks the cloth in the soapy water. He drags it over Hashirama's brown skin.

"This is so nice," Hashirama says, twisting his neck to grin back at Madara, "we're at an onsen together. Last week we were at war and now we're at an onsen…" Hashirama's brown eyes are shiny despite his smile. "I wish our brothers were here then…then I might not want to go back, you know?"

"Our clans…" Madara starts because he can't help it. The Uchiha are dead, he couldn't let that happen, he couldn't live with himself if he didn't stop it. He drags the cloth down Hashirama's back and dunks it back in the warm water.

"I know, I know," Hashirama hurries to say, facing forward again. "We have to go back, otherwise this won't exist at all. It's just nice that we don't have to fight right now, that we get to spend all day together instead of an hour or two. You're there when I go to sleep and you're there when I wake up. I like it. I like being with you, Madara. I always want to be with you." Madara's cheeks burn, hot and red and they're not even in the bath yet.

Stupid Hashirama. Stupid Hashirama and his stupid, mushy words.

"Do my back now," Madara rushes to switch but by the time Hashirama takes his place on the stool, it's clear that he's seen Madara's blush. Yamato-sensei and Sai are still a bit away in their own showers. They're no help when Hashirama leans forward and wraps his arms around Madara's chest. "This isn't washing my back," he mutters but doesn't throw Hashirama off, even as his skin prickles uncomfortably from someone being behind him.

"Yeah, but you haven't told me to stop. You didn't disagree with me either."

Because he doesn't. Hashirama is his best friend, everything is better with him, he always wants to be with him. Madara has lain awake for countless nights in the Uchiha compound, Izuna in the threadbare futon next to him, wishing desperately that things could change and Hashirama would suddenly be there next to him.

Madara just can't put it into words without getting embarrassed or sounding stupid.

"You're not wrong," he finally bites out between clenched teeth. Madara drags his foot over the cold wet tile in an effort to ground himself.

It's enough for Hashirama.

He squeezes Madara's chest and leans over him. And leans. And leans. And leans.

Hashirama topples and they crash onto the tile floor, sending the bucket flying up and rolling off. Madara's elbow cracks painfully against the floor while his other arm is pinned between his side and Hashirama's chest. With his cheek pressed against the wet tile, the burn in his cheeks quickly turns from embarrassment to anger.

"Hashirama…"

And of course, the sound of their crash drew Yamato-sensei and Sai's attention.

"Boys," Yamato-sensei pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Gay," Sai coughs.

"Madara…"

"No."

"Madara…"

"No."

"Madara!"

"It's an onsen! Your feet can touch the bottom, you're not going to drown!" Madara throws his hands up, splashing Hashirama and Sai on either side of him. Sai smiles, small and fake, and splashes him back. Madara reels towards him, ready to escalate into a full fight, but Hashirama takes the opportunity to attach himself to Madara's arm, clinging like a limpet.

Madara sighs in defeat and slumps back against the rough edge of the bath.

"Boys, we might be the only ones on this side, but it's impolite to yell in the bath," Yamato-sensei says from Sai's other side. From the dividing wall, Madara can just barely hear a few women laughing.

"Sorry Yamato-sensei," Madara mutters. He tries half-heartedly to tug his arm from Hashirama's grip, but it only makes the other boy plaster himself to Madara's side, grip tightening.

"Hashirama if you're that worried about the water you can sit with me or we can go back to the room—"

"No, I'm fine here now," Hashirama interrupts, hooking his ankle around Madara's.

"You two are being indecent in public," Sai says, sinking down into the water. Madara splashes him. He doesn't understand half the things Sai says, but he knows enough about little brothers to know that he deserved to be splashed. Sai scowls and swims away to the center of the bath.

"Hashirama maybe you should give Madara his own space," Yamato-sensei suggests gently. Hashirama tenses and then slumps against Madara with a pout.

"Do you want me to get off?" He asks, barely loud enough for Madara to hear.

Madara's cheeks burn again, especially when he accidentally meets Yamato-sensei's eyes. He looks away and huffs, prying off one of Hashirama's now loose hands. But he tangles their fingers together underwater before he could move away.

"It's fine," Madara stares at the steam rising up from the bathwater and very purposefully doesn't look anywhere else. Hashirama laughs, snuggling closer. Yamato-sensei sighs and leans back against the bath edge.

After another half hour or so he gets out of the water and wraps a towel around his waist.

"I'm heading in now. I don't think I need to tell you this, but stay out of the women's side," Yamato-sensei says seriously, looking down at him and Hashirama.

"Why would we try to go to the women's side? We're not women and there's no girl on our team," Madara says slowly. Next to him, Hashirama tilts his head to the side in similar confusion.

"Keep that attitude," Yamato-sensei mutters to himself and then turns to Sai who's swimming around in the water. "That goes for you too, Sai."

Sai surfaces and crosses his arms with a scoff. "Girls are gross." His eyes flicker towards Madara and Hashirama. "And apparently so are boys."

Yamato-sensei sighs deeply. Madara is struck with the sudden urge to get up and splash him again and hold him down in the water, but he doesn't want to disturb Hashirama. Madara settles for narrowing his eyes and smacking the water threateningly with his one free hand. Sai sticks his tongue out.

Behind them, Yamato-sensei sighs again.

Tenzo

Even after only five days together as an official team Tenzo has come to a conclusion that he would have thought impossible a week ago: they're good kids. All of his kids. And with only a few…quirks, all three of his kids act like kids. Even Sai.

Privately Tenzo suspects Danzou scrambled and assigned a junior agent in place of a full agent, but he won't bring up the topic just yet. Sai still displays emotion and he talks fondly of his brother. Not Madara, and Tenzo just knows Hiruzen and Danzou are going to love hearing that, but the other one. Tenzo knows ROOT and he has a feeling what Sai's full graduation assignment would entail.

Maybe he could ask Kakashi for help. The Sandaime wouldn't listen to him, but he'd listened to Kakashi before. It was a bit of a longshot but he doesn't want Sai to go through what he did. He's still young enough to fight the worst of the programming, it'd only get harder the longer he was with ROOT and unless something changed he would have to return.

Eventually, the Sandaime would fix the jutsu and Hashirama and Madara would be sent back to their own time. Tenzo pushes down the voice that asks, what if he can't? He knows nothing about time travel. But they had to go back, right? They had to be in the past for the present to exist or something.

He doesn't want them to go back. Partly for selfish reasons, Tenzo can admit to himself as he enters their room and puts on his slippers, smiling down at the three smaller pairs next to his own. But also due to legitimate concern, mostly for Madara.

Because Madara is fundamentally kind. He's a perfectionist, easily irritated, has the appetite of an Akimichi, and absolutely no volume control, but kind. To Hashirama, to Sai, to the tea merchants, to Tenzo himself. So to become the Uchiha Madara of legend, the one that betrayed the village, abandoned it, and then tried to destroy it…something terrible must have happened to twist a kind child into that.

Tenzo is lost in thought until the hosts start bringing in the extravagant dinner dishes. They've barely sat the last one down and left before the shoji slides back and the boys walk in. Tenzo isn't surprised, Madara has a sixth sense for food. They sit down and like every time before, Madara eats like he's starving.

After seeing him strip down and being able to count every one of his ribs, Tenzo thinks he might be. It makes him a little sick that he didn't notice immediately. The Uchiha had been prone to a misleading daintiness and cursed to develop heavy circles under their eyes, but this was something more.

War.

They came from a constantly war-torn era. Tenzo remembers the last years of the Third Shinobi War. He remembers the areas hit hardest, where the supply chains didn't reach, where the fighting had destroyed the crops, and the people had been left behind. Their emaciated bodies and gaunt, desperate eyes.

And those had been civilians. Not active shinobi.

Not genin-aged children who were already expected to be battle-hardened warriors.

Hashirama had fewer scars than Madara, but he'd probably been in just as many battles. Tenzo doesn't know for sure. He had read all of the Shodai's scrolls when he was learning the mokuton, but those scrolls were the only records that still existed. The Shodai hadn't kept a diary or preserved any letters. And in the scrolls, there weren't many notes unrelated to the kekkei genkai. The few tangents that did exist emphasized the same image Tenzo and the rest of Konoha had of the Shodai: a charismatic, eternally optimistic, easy-going leader. It may be a stretch but, watching the child in front of him sneak flower-shaped carrots onto Madara's plate to watch him make a disgusted face but eat them anyway, Tenzo wonders how much of that was a façade.

Nowhere did the Shodai mention Madara. There were the statues at the Valley of the End, but other than that…nothing. Tenzo can't believe the boy who couldn't go five minutes without touching Madara could become a man that completely forgot him.

What happened to them?

After dinner, the dishes are cleared away and they set the futons out to sleep. And, like every night before, Madara completely ignores his own, instead choosing to nudge at Hashirama until he lifts the cover and lets Madara cuddle up next to him.

"Gay," Sai coughs from his own futon and Tenzo takes a long, deep breath. They're his kids, but god do they test him.

"Madara you have your own futon," Tenzo reminds him as he finishes organizing their bags. He thought this insistence on sleeping with Hashirama was because they were out in forest. It was mid-March, and the nights could get chilly as the hard ground leeched heat from the skin. But here in their nice insulated room…

"We can share, I don't mind!" Hashirama says, wrapping his arms around Madara. Tenzo isn't sure whether or not he should be concerned with this behavior. Nothing in the teaching manuals he bought prepared him for this.

They were twelve. But, despite Madara being the one to crawl into Hashirama's bed, Tenzo has a feeling it'd be Hashirama to be the one to push it past innocence. Madara will occasionally hold the other boy's hand or lean against him. Hashirama drapes his entire body over Madara's, constantly tries to touch his chest or face, and stares. God does he stare at Madara with a love-struck expression.

Hashirama has a crush on Madara.

Yet another thing the Tenzo of last week would never believe.

The Senju were the clan of love. It was one of Danzou's favorite insults towards the Shodai. He probably didn't mean this kind of love.

…was that their relationship before Madara left the village? When had the Shodai married Uzumaki Mito again?

Tenzo turns off the light and sits down on his own futon, next to Hashirama's. Hashirama stares at him, one hand clutched in the back of Madara's nemaki with his chin hooked on the boy's shoulder. Tenzo reaches out and he tenses, eyes narrowing in suspicion. He clutches Madara tighter like he thinks Tenzo will try to pull him away. He doesn't, instead he pats Hashirama's head and smiles at the boy's confused look.

They're good kids.

They were good kids, but on the way back to Konoha, Tenzo is reminded exactly who his kids are.

On the way back, they stop for training. Honestly, he was surprised that Madara and Hashirama were able to do a calm four-day mission without complaining or growing restless. When he announced they'd be stopping to spar, he was met with an abundance of enthusiasm from them but indifference from Sai.

They stopped in a tiny clearing in the forest, off from the main road. Madara and Hashirama scrambled to get in place. They were all smiles, a bit savage and wild, but happy. This was supposed to be a spar so Tenzo could evaluate their current skill level. He knew he wouldn't be teaching them the basics, but he didn't expect…

This.

The forest clearing they stopped in has been reduced to nothing in their first attacks. Ash chokes the air and floats down in a mockery of snow as Madara's katon consumes the trees. The ground looks like some ancient creature has burst forth as the thick, twisted mokuton slithers out.

In just moments…

Sai clings to Tenzo's side, dark eyes wide with shock. Above them Madara and Hashirama clash, blades screeching. They jump away and Tenzo loses track of them as he grabs Sai and pulls him out of danger. ROOT agents were trained in stealth and assassination, not to deal with absurd godly levels of power.

"Stay here," Tenzo commands before he turns back to the epicenter.

When Tenzo sees them again, they've lost their katanas and switched to taijutsu, Madara with a kunai in each hand and Hashirama bare-handed. Madara is faster than Hashirama. He's fast enough that Tenzo struggles to follow his blows and Hashirama bleeds from a multitude of cuts. But they heal nearly as fast as they form and Hashirama uses that to his advantage. He's slower than Madara, but stronger. They're flying across the clearing, Madara dancing around the mokuton and Hashirama healing every burn and cut he can't dodge as they trade blows. Finally, Hashirama catches Madara's arm and, before Tenzo can yell, slams him into the ground with enough force to create a small crater.

"BOYS!" Tenzo thunders, fear racing in his veins as Hashirama stands over Madara's dazed form. His head snaps up and turns towards Tenzo. His brown eyes are wide and confused, innocent and completely out of place among the destruction.

"What sensei?" Hashirama asks. But before Tenzo can say anything, Madara's eyes snap open, sharingan spinning and he bursts upward. Distracted, Hashirama doesn't have time to defend himself and in moments their positions are reversed. Madara swings up, kunai in his hand. This close Tenzo can see the flash of ninja wire that ties them together as Madara loops the wire around Hashirama's arm and pulls.

Hashirama falls to the ground with a sharp cry of pain, his arm yanked backwards at an unnatural angle. Madara perches on his back, one kunai drawn tight to trap his arm, the other pressed against the back of Hashirama's neck.

"Oh come on, I won!" Hashirama complains.

"I didn't yield," Madara grins above him.

"Madara put the kunai down," Tenzo commands, coming to a stop by them.

Madara hesitates and nudges Hashirama's side with his knee. "Hashi?"

"Ugh fine. I yield. But you dislocated my shoulder again." Hashirama says with a scowl, his cheek pressed against the upturned dirt. Madara loosens the wire and helps Hashirama sit up.

Tenzo wants to say something, wants to demand to know what they think they were doing, why they're suddenly so calm now. He'd seen intense spars but this…this looked like a real fight.

"One hundred and thirty-seven to one hundred and thirty-five, my favor," Madara says, grin still in place. Hashirama grumbles and waves his uninjured arm impatiently at the other boy. Madara extends his own hand and together they form the signs for a simple mokuton jutsu. More wood crawls up from the ground. Hashirama breaks off a piece the size of a small branch and holds it between his teeth. Madara stands over him, hands braced on his dislocated shoulder.

Tenzo realizes what they're planning, "wait—"

Hashirama hums and Madara, with one swift tug, pops the joint back in place. Hashirama's yelp is muffled by the wood and once Madara steps back, he spits it out.

"Seriously it just had to be a dislocated joint, one of the only things I couldn't heal on my own," Hashirama mutters stretching his arm and testing its range of motion. "Sensei, why'd you have to distract me? Now he's up by two."

"Boys," Tenzo finally finds his voice, "what were you doing?!"

"Uh, sparring?" Hashirama says as Madara sits down in front of him. Healing chakra surrounds Hashirama's hands and he leans forward to press his ear against Madara's back. "Breathe in and out."

"You consider this sparring?!" Tenzo gestures to the wrecked landscape around them. The few distant trees to survive the first wave of incineration are still burning. The mokuton had completely shredded the ground, creating a violent scar in the earth. Battles in the Third War were less destructive than this spar.

"What else would it be?" Hashirama asks as Madara swivels around and he lays his head on his chest. "Breathe in and out."

"Did…did we misunderstand your instructions, Yamato-sensei?" Madara asks nervously, biting his lip. His brows are pinched together, back and shoulders perfectly straight.

"No, I just…" Tenzo pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath.

"Your lungs are good, and I healed all the small stuff," Hashirama says, leaning back.

"Is this level of destruction normal in your spars?" Tenzo asks, gesturing around them. They both look around, Hashirama craning his neck back so far he almost topples over.

"Oh, Madara those trees are still on fire," Hashirama gestures to the still burning forest. Madara forms hand signs and once again Tenzo is too slow in his suggestion that more fire will not help this situation. But Madara doesn't breathe out, he breathes in. Tenzo isn't a sensor but the area is so saturated in burning and budding chakra even he can feel when all of the burning chakra is suddenly smothered. The flames sputter and die. "We usually don't spar in the forest, but I'd say this is about normal, right Madara?"

"Yeah…but we haven't fought anyone for nearly a week. And I've eaten at least two meals a day so maybe things were a bit more intense?" He's talking to Hashirama but looking at Tenzo, waiting to see his reaction.

"Yeah, maybe. So are we sparring with you next, sensei? Or Sai? Ooh! Can we do teams? I wanna be with Madara, we had that Hatake guy on the ropes!" Hashirama pumps his fist and leans against Madara's shoulder. Tenzo remembers Kakashi with his broken ribs and injured shoulder, he remembers the early, early ANBU morning gossip about a fire above the Hokage mountain, and the walls of Ichiraku's warping before Hiruzen tasked him to Team 13.

He remembers every legendary story about the battles between Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara, how the Valley of the End was ripped out of the earth, the Naka redirected until it made the falls.

Tenzo sighs.

Really, he should have expected this.

Hashirama

Hashirama likes being part of Team Yamato, but mostly because he's with Madara. Still, the others are interesting. Sai's paintings are amazing and his ink jutsu looks pretty versatile. Madara likes him and has started lecturing him on all the proper ways to be an Uchiha. It's only a matter of time before he steals Sai's shirts and demands Hashirama sew an uchiwa on the back. Madara has many skills, but sewing is not one of them. Yamato is cool because he has the mokuton and he's willing to teach Hashirama. But he's still an adult and they always mess everything up. Just like now. After his and Madara's first spar, Yamato insisted that they restrain themselves and not go all out. Even after Hashirama offered to regrow the forest, Yamato still wouldn't change his mind. It sucked.

Madara was the only one he could go all out against and now he didn't even have that! When Yamato said it, Hashirama saw Madara stiffen. He saw the hard glint of defiance in his eyes, but he didn't say anything, just bit his tongue because Yamato was their sensei. Even worse he took the command as disapproval and it put him in a bad enough mood that Hashirama doesn't get his post-spar cuddles. Madara liked fighting, liked it even more than Hashirama. And afterwards, even if he lost but especially when he won, he was cuddly.

Really cuddly.

Hashirama knows he'll be more upset about the ban on actual sparring later, especially when an abundance of energy starts to coil tight and painful under his skin, but right now it's about his stolen cuddling.

Madara walks ahead in the marching order, no doubt sensing for foreign chakra and working himself up even more over Yamato's comments. He wasn't perfect and now he's upset.

Upset. Not cuddly.

Hashirama glares at Yamato.

"You can pout all you like, but you need to learn control, Hashirama," Yamato explains patiently but the words still rankle. If he said it in a different tone, Hashirama could close his eyes and it'd be Butsuma speaking. Because, deep down, Hashirama was out of control. The mokuton was a kekkei genkai, the Senju said to themselves and everyone else. They said it because otherwise it'd mean the mokuton, and Hashirama, were something other.

Sometimes when he sparred with Tobirama, and Itama and Kawarama before they died, he felt like an other. His brothers were good, were prodigies in their own rights. But when the energy built up and up and up, Hashirama would look at them and only see their weaknesses. See every open defense, every way a spike of wood just there, just at that angle…

He was a liability to the Senju. Overwhelming power wasn't that useful when it'd kill more of your clanmates than enemies because you couldn't control it right.

Madara was the only one who he didn't have to treat like glass, who could meet him blow for blow and still scoff and say that's all?

Still, the ban on actual sparring is more of an annoyance. Hashirama knows Madara and he knows Madara will cave within a week despite trying to obey Yamato and they'll sneak off to some abandoned field or forest and have a proper fight. And still, out of all of the adults in this time, Yamato is easily the best.

He hasn't tried to take Madara away from him.

Hashirama isn't smart like Tobirama, but he can read people pretty well.

He doesn't trust that old Sarutobi geezer or his adviser and the Hatake had attacked them, his dog's teeth had nicked Madara's artery. Hashirama and Madara founded the village together, but they didn't act like it. The adults, all of them, looked at Madara like he was a thing, not a person. Hashirama has had time to mull it over on their escort mission and he doesn't like any explanation he can come up with. What if Madara died early after the village was founded and no matter how hard Hashirama tried only the Senju's prejudices survived?

It's a distressing thought. Hashirama has to force himself to stay next to Yamato and not race ahead to Madara's side and grab him to reassure himself. Madara's upset and when he's upset anything and everything makes him more upset. But Madara's early death would explain the feeling he got from the old geezers. That'd explain why he saw respect when they looked at him and derision when they looked at Madara.

He's going to change it. No matter what. And no one's taking Madara from him in the meantime.

The trip back to Konoha only lasts a day now that they don't have to travel at civilian speed, but it's also tenser. Madara's upset at himself, Hashirama's mad at Yamato, and Sai's strangely quiet-looking between him and Madara with large, blank eyes.

When they arrive at the village gates, the sun is nothing but a rippling yellow blob sinking below the horizon. The guards greet Yamato but once they see Madara, they stiffen and their voices turn cold. Madara doesn't notice. Hashirama does.

Anger seethes under his skin. He wants to yell; wants to demand to know why they're acting like this.

But he doesn't, not yet.

They enter the village and Yamato gives them instructions to meet at training round thirty-four, a large grassy field on the far side of his and Madara's cliff in the morning.

Hashirama likes being on Team Yamato, but he really likes when it's just him and Madara. It's familiar and comfortable. They walk back home through the slightly run-down streets. The colorful lights have just flickered on for the night and the air smells like spices and meat. Madara is slowly coming out of his mood, he doesn't have the slight hunch to his shoulders and narrowed eyes that mean Hashirama should back off.

So, he slowly sidles closer, reaching out to wrap his pinky around Madara's. When the other doesn't push him away or scowl, Hashirama grabs his hand and intertwines their fingers.

The anger starts to bleed out of him slowly. By the time the still unfamiliar building that is their new home for the foreseeable future comes into view, Hashirama feels calmer than he has since their spar.

Dinner is a small affair. The Hatake said the kitchen was pretty bare but everything looks strange and cluttered to Hashirama, nothing like any kitchen he was used to. There were buttons, dials, and blinking numbers on everything.

He and Madara share a look, open the cabinets, and drag out some of the shiny metal cylinders that Yamato said wouldn't go bad for a while.

"It says yakitori," Madara mutters and pierces the top of his can with a kunai. He peels it back and Hashirama leans over his shoulder, inspecting the contents.

"It looks like yakitori," he says as Madara picks up a pair of chopsticks and pulls out a piece of chicken. He pops it in his mouth, chews, and swallows. "Well—" Hashirama doesn't get to finish the word before Madara's snapping up all the pieces, eating in his regular fashion.

So it's at least edible.

Madara has quite a tolerance for edible though. He dislikes a lot of food but the only thing Hashirama has ever seen him flat out refuse to eat is roe.

He pierces the top of his own can and peels the lid off, picking a piece up and eating it. It's not the best, certainly not as good as the inn food they had, but considering it came out of a can…

Hashirama savors his meal, eating the pieces one by one. When Madara inevitably looks up at him, then his food, Hashirama gets up and puts two unopened cans in front of him. It was nice being able to ride in the covered wagons, but he's barely been exposed to the sun.

After dinner, they take a bath. He and Madara sit cramped together, knees pulled uncomfortably close to their chests in the steaming hot water.

"This is a terrible bath," Madara crosses his arms and Hashirama has to agree. One of them might fit in the tub, but both? No. How was an entire family supposed to use one of these things? Maybe they came in different sizes?

"You just want to take a shower instead?" Hashirama asks, trying out the unfamiliar word. Madara grumbles and stands up with a splash. He repeats what the Hatake did and Hashirama sputters as water shoots out from the top and sprays him in the face.

"This wasn't built for two people," Madara mutters as he and Hashirama shuffle around one another. In the spray, out of the spray. Use the weird bottled soaps that smelled like food and Madara tried to eat before gagging. Try not to slide on the slippery tub by grabbing the other's slick shoulders or arms, repeat.

Once they've dried off, it's time for bed. Hashirama shuffles in first with Madara behind him. The bed might be small, but at least it's comfortable. He flips over and meets Madara's eyes as he pulls the covers up. The other boy huffs, cheeks still bright red from the bath and turns until his back is facing Hashirama.

Grinning so wide his cheeks hurt, Hashirama wastes no time in plastering himself against Madara's back, one arm around his waist. After such a long wait, he'll at least get some of his cuddles. Only after sparring would Madara let him hold him from behind without a fight and yelling about how much he hates it.

Madara grumbles something under his breath that Hashirama doesn't hear because his heart is pounding and he feels hot all over. He's here. He's with Madara. They're together. A sudden swell of emotion hits him and Hashirama feels his eyes brim with tears.

"What—why are you crying?!" Madara shouts, shifting to look back at him.

"I'm happy," Hashirama scrubs his eyes and Madara takes the opportunity to flip towards him. Hashirama whines, mourning his rarest kind of cuddles but stills when Madara reaches out to cup his cheeks.

"Only idiots cry when they're happy," he says and Hashirama's mood darkens. He tries to pull away, he'll just take his cuddles in peace and sleep then, but Madara holds in him place. Hashirama could break the grip if he wanted to, but he doesn't. He's curious. Madara blinks and his eyes swirl into red.

Never look an Uchiha in the eyes. It's the oldest rule of fighting them, but one Hashirama always fails miserably at. He brings his arms up and mirrors Madara, cupping his cheeks. The tomoe spin faster.

"But I guess you're my idiot."

Hashirama's mood soars, so high and bright he almost feels dizzy with the overwhelming rush, and he just…reacts.

He leans forward and smashes his mouth against Madara's. Madara freezes and Hashirama watches, heart pounding against his ribcage, as Madara's face turns as red as his eyes.

"What. Was. That?" He looks dazed. Ten spars in one day, twenty of Hashirama's bets and competitions, kind of dazed.

"Uh…" This…may be another one of Hashirama's poorly thought out ideas.

He leans forward and kisses Madara again, gently this time. Somehow his face gets even redder than his eyes.

"Is…is it okay? Do you mind?" Hashirama asks nervously. He desperately, desperately wants it to be okay. The Senju will expect him to marry and have children for the sake of the clan but...but he doesn't want that. He wants Madara, more than anything in the world!

"It's fine," Madara says, still dazed. His palms dig into Hashirama's cheeks and then he slams his lips against Hashirama's. It hurts. Different kinds of tears prick Hashirama's eyes as he feels his teeth cut into his lower lip from the force of the blow.

But it doesn't matter.

Madara is kissing him.

It takes a long time for Hashirama to fall asleep that night. He physically cannot stop smiling. One hand is pillowed under his head while he trails the other over Madara's soft face and neck, where the nemaki has slipped. Their legs are tangled together under the blankets. He's staring at Madara, giddy and nervous like when they first started to meet and Madara seemed too good to be true.

"This isn't sleeping," Madara mutters. His eyes are barely cracked open, the red only slits. Hashirama would worry that he's overusing the sharingan, but they've had days to rest and one short sparring session hardly counted as taxing. Besides, Madara had told him why the Uchiha activated the sharingan outside of battle. Very reluctantly, arms crossed and refusing to look at Hashirama while he explained it, but still. The fact that Madara wants to remember this moment, that there's been several times Hashirama's caught him staring with red eyes, it all makes Hashirama puff up with pride.

"I'm not tired." He isn't. Hashirama has so much energy, he could run around the entire world…twice.

"Tch." Madara moves even closer until they're chest to chest, sharing the same breath. "Sleep." The red fades from his eyes as he tucks his head under Hashirama's chin.

His lips press against Hashirama's pulse point and now he's even more awake.

He holds Madara close, nearly crushing him by the other's unamused grumble, but Hashirama can't help it. This is his perfect dream, become reality.

The next few weeks follow a similar pattern as their first. Yamato 'trains' him, but it becomes clear to Hashirama that it's the nice version of Butsuma's training. Madara gets to spar with Sai, honestly it's more of a playfight than a spar in Hashirama's opinion, while he has to sit down on the grass and try to make exact replicas of the strange statue Madara carved.

"Are you sure this is the only way?" Hashirama grumbles at Yamato who stands by his side, watching Madara and Sai. It's an even fight, but only because Madara's holding back. Hashirama can tell.

"According to your scrolls, yes." Yamato is cruel. Hashirama looks down at the blob in his hand, even worse than the carving.

"I hate future me."

If they're not training, they're going on missions. At first, they're all similar to the first mission. Escort this here, that there. One-time Yamato has them do a D-ranked mission in the village. They have to catch a cat. A cat.

And of course, the cat loves Madara.

"I didn't think Tora could like someone," Yamato says with a horrified expression as Tora rubs against Madara's chin. The only problem comes when it's time to give the cat back to the daimyo's wife. Hashirama has to pry it from Madara because it won't let go and then he gets covered in scratches as a result.

"That's more like Tora," Yamato mutters as Sai laughs.

Eventually, the missions turn to B-ranks and then A-ranks. Then they do start getting assassination contracts.

"The bingo book," Yamato says, handing it to Madara. His words are heavy and sad which Hashirama doesn't really understand. He leans in close to Madara and watches as he flips through it, staring at all of the information on Konoha's enemies.

"We're supposed to kill them," Madara guesses and Yamato nods. That, at least, makes sense. Hashirama is glad the genin could do simple D and C ranked missions but it was so…odd. Not bad! Just so radically different he felt like an idiot when he struggled with their basic tasks. Hashirama knew a lot about plants and he loved his younger brother but digging potatoes and watching kids as a mission…

He could see the same discomfort on Madara's face.

An assassination contract was almost a relief. At least until they show up by the gates to leave and Sai is there.

Why did Hashirama assume he wouldn't be? He'd been on every other mission. But now…Sai is a kid. A kid from this time, not his and Madara's. He and Madara both had their first kill when they were five. Madara burned a man alive and Hashirama slit a teenager's gut open. He remembers because the teenager caught him in the jaw and knocked out his first tooth. Mother saw it and wept as she pulled him from the battlefield and helped him clean up the blood. That was his and Madara's life, not Sai's. He should be doing the cat chasing and the basic escorts.

Hashirama raises a complaint and Yamato mentions Sai is a special case. It's not kids killing other kids on the battlefield but it doesn't sit right with Hashirama. Madara either, by the scowl on his face.

Because if Sai is one special case, what's stopping there from being more?

Hashirama doesn't like it. He doesn't like it one bit, even as Sai mocks him and teases him for it. It goes on his something else to change about the future once we get back to the past list.

Still, even with training and actual missions, Hashirama gets restless. Sometimes they're in the village for several days between missions and Yamato still hasn't budged on his restrained sparring rule. Whenever he and Madara 'spar', it's a joke. Yamato says they can use any technique but Hashirama can't use the mokuton without destroying enough of the grounds for him to call it quits. Madara can use his katons, he is capable of scaling them down, but then the spars become one-sided. And Madara hates one-sided fights. But Yamato tells him to use ninjutsu as well as taijutsu and bukijutsu he can and Madara's desire to listen to their sensei wins out.

Most of these fake spars end with Madara as the winner, but it's not satisfying. He doesn't count them in their ever-growing tally and Hashirama is glad for that. But, just like he thought, Madara doesn't last one full week in the village with their 'spars' before he wakes Hashirama up in the middle of the night, eyes burning and body coiled with tension.

They mask their chakra and sneak out of the village, following the cliffs until they find a spot in the forest, far out of any sensor's range. Madara wins that spar too and he's extremely smug that it's one thirty-eight to one thirty-five, neither of them has ever trailed by more than two before. Hashirama blames it on the fact that he's never actually fought someone near his level in the woods at night and, unlike Madara, he doesn't have the sharingan or sensory abilities to help him see in the dark. He says all of this while Madara puts the fires out and he grows new trees to replace the ones reduced to ash. There's not a lot he can do about the torn-up ground but it looks fine. Especially with the new trees that look exactly like normal trees and not huge, twisted slightly monstrous things.

But Hashirama doesn't have long to be upset or think about the weird trees because an actual spar marks the return of cuddly Madara and this time with light kisses. It takes them twice as long to return to their tiny house because Madara presses against Hashirama like a cat. One arm is constantly looped around his neck, his waist, or through his arm and Hashirama keeps tripping over his own feet or stopping to hug Madara close because how can he not? The featherlight kisses across his neck and jaw certainly don't help his concentration.

They're settling in well, however, they're not any closer to getting back to their own time. That might partly be his fault. Hashirama has been ignoring the letters from the old Sarutobi geezer to meet for lunch after the first time when he brought Madara and the entire thing was stilted and awkward. The hopeful projection is three months, a number that seems both too big and too small.

Too big because Hashirama misses Tobirama, and he knows Madara misses Izuna and the Uchiha with a desperation that Hashirama doesn't feel for his own clan. They won't actually miss anything if they're sent back to the exact time and spot they left from, but that doesn't help much.

Too small because Hashirama likes this life. This is the culmination of his and Madara's dream and sure, it's not perfect, they need to change a few things, but Hashirama gets to spend all of his time with Madara. There're no clans to separate them, no need to be afraid of being found together, no punishments for little brothers to keep them in line.

When Hashirama thinks about giving it up, no more Madara next to him at all times, back to at best weekly meetings for two or three hours, the only break from the constant misery and death…he wants to cry. And he does, before collapsing against Madara and refusing to let go. He knows Madara is thinking the same thing when he gets unusually morose, staring at Hashirama with deep, sorrowful eyes.

But those are the bad thoughts and Hashirama's always been one to cling to optimism and happiness as long as possible. He won't let the future-past destroy what good he has in this moment.

And there is a lot of good. It's nice to just exist with Madara and do normal things together. Today they're grocery shopping. Yamato said it'd be at least another week before their next mission so they needed to buy food to keep in the apartment. He looked nervous and kept reminding them when he gave them the money from their recent missions.

Of course, Madara snatched Hashirama's money right away and kept it in a sealed box because he thought Hashirama couldn't be trusted not to buy stupid things. As soon as they got back to their tiny house Hashirama threw himself down in his giant frog-shaped beanbag chair to pout. He might, might admit that it probably hadn't been worth two weeks of A-ranked missions…maybe. Madara was still overreacting!

But now they're walking down the street, an empty bag in each hand and Madara's carefully hoarded money box in his pocket. They reach the farmer's market and Madara beelines towards his first unfortunate victim while Hashirama rocks back and forth on his feet, looking around at the variety of stalls and all the people. Madara is haggling with an old lady over the price of oranges.

He's not good at it. Madara's haggling usually involves a lot of yelling, glaring, insisting that the price is too high, and insulting the product itself.

Usually, he ends up raising the price, rather than lowering it.

Then, when Madara works himself up enough that he storms off empty-handed to another cart, Hashirama sidles up to the cart-owner and looks up at them with his big, watery eyes.

They fold like a deck of cards; it works every time.

Hashirama hands over his meager amount of money that Madara has deemed his absolutely useless purchase of the day and trots back to Madara, who's now doing the same thing with the old man selling scallions.

They're finishing with the farmer's market, about to head towards the supermarket for the canned food Madara's gotten fond of, when someone starts shouting.

"YOU!" Hashirama looks up and sees bright orange. The Uzumaki kid. Naru…something. He's pointing at Madara and stomping towards them. The civilians around them watch with narrowed eyes. Hashirama nudges Madara and he looks up from his handwritten receipts.

"Wha—"

The Uzumaki grabs Madara's wrist and starts pulling him away. "You're an Uchiha, yeah? That's what you said?" He peers back at Madara with squinty blue eyes.

"Yes." Madara breaks his hold and steps back. "What do you want? We're busy—"

"Sasuke-bastard doesn't believe me! I told him you were an Uchiha and you had the weird eye thing after old man Teuchi and Iruka-sensei explained it, but he says I'm wrong! I've been lookin' for you for weeks so I could prove it to him!" The Uzumaki stomps on the ground, pacing back and forth. "You gotta come with me, so I can finally be right! Come on, Kakashi-sensei won't be at the training ground until two. We can go, you can do the eye thing, and leave. Simple!"

Madara glances at Hashirama, who shrugs. They haven't been in the village that much, but he's still a little surprised Madara hasn't tried to track the other Uchiha down. Especially since he was so keen to adopt Sai and Shin into the clan. After a lot of grumbling and complaining, Sai finally brought them to his apartment to meet him. Shin seemed bemused more than anything when Madara announced he was now part of the Uchiha clan and demanded he hand over all his shirts. Madara and Sai started bickering over the shirt issue while Hashirama offered to heal the other boy. He couldn't heal him completely, it was a chronic illness after all, but Hashirama could at least alleviate some of the pain and symptoms temporarily. And somehow, by the time they left, Madara had a scroll full of both the boy's shirts. Shin winked at them and Hashirama sewed on the uchiwa, it was official.

"Fine, Naruto, but we're shopping today. I can stop by tomorrow—"

"No, it's gotta be today!" Naruto interrupts and Hashirama watches as Madara's mouth thins into an irritated line. "I can make it worth your while," Naruto grins and pulls out some crumpled papers. At first, Hashirama thinks it's money and he's trying to bribe them. It'd work. Hashirama has standards for bribes, Madara does not.

"What're those?" Madara asks while Naruto smooths out the papers on his knee.

"Huh? You never seen coupons before?"

"No. What's a coupon?"

Naruto's shoulders slump. "They're things that make other things cheaper. So like, say you're trying to buy ramen or somethin'. If you buy the right kind, in the right amount, on the right day they take money off," he taps the semi-smooth paper with all its bright numbers and characters.

Madara's eyes widen and he snatches the coupon from a protesting Naruto.

"What's so special about this paper that it makes things cheaper? Is it rare? Is it valuable? Could you sell them for more profit?" Madara asks, side-stepping every attempt Naruto makes to grab him and take the coupon back.

"No! They're in every newspaper, and some catalogs," he gives up with a huff, glaring at Madara. "You just gotta collect them. But I spent a lot of time doing just that! So if you think you're better than me—"

"Tell me what a newspaper is and where to get one and you've got a deal," Madara interrupts, opening the money box and putting the coupon inside. Hashirama has a feeling he's going to need a second box.

"You're weird, but deal." Naruto thrusts out his free hand. Madara shakes it and Naruto hands over the remaining coupons before turning and marching off, yelling and laughing about how he got 'Sasuke-bastard' good this time. The civilians glare as he passes, unsettling something in Hashirama's gut. They look at Naruto like the old Sarutobi geezer and his adviser look at Madara. Still, Hashirama follows behind him, tugging Madara along whenever he slows to look down at his coupons and grin.

Naruto leads them to training ground three. A large grassy field, overlooking a river with three wooden pillars, and a kunai-shaped stone in the middle. By the pillars are two other kids, a girl with pink hair and a boy who must be Sasuke. Hashirama starts when the boy turns towards them. Most Uchiha look similar but he looks a lot like Madara. So close they could be—

"Izuna?" Madara stops, what little color is in his pale face gone. He looks like he's seen a ghost.

"Eh? Come on, don't bail on me now! Sasuke's right there!" Naruto pleads. Madara nods, sharp and jerky, and reaches down to clutch at Hashirama's hand.

"Hashi, he looks…exactly like him. Not like Sai, that's…that's Izuna's face." Madara hisses. Sasuke and the girl stare as they get closer. Hashirama knows the Uchiha have different beliefs from the Senju and a lot of them involve death and reincarnation and something about the sun. He can't remember what it means to have someone else's face, but he's pretty sure it's bad, judging by Madara's reaction.

"Wow Naruto, I didn't think you had friends. Who are they?" The pink-haired girl looks at him and Madara. Naruto sulks, a tear running down his face while he mutters ahh, Sakura-chan before snapping back up. Hashirama tsks. He needs to work on his technique.

"This is…uh…what's your name again?" Naruto turns back to ask Madara.

"Madara." Madara's eyes haven't moved from Sasuke.

"This is Uchiha Madara. I told you there was another one, Sasuke-bastard!" Naruto laughs loudly. "I was right and you were wrong!"

"Tch. You must be kidding," Sasuke's eyes narrow, "Uchiha Madara? Like any real Uchiha would be given the namesake of a Ghost." Madara goes so still beside him, Hashirama is afraid he actually fainted on his feet.

"At least I don't have the face of a dead man," Madara's voice is eerie, completely devoid of emotion as his hand tightens painfully around Hashirama's.

"Really? By your claim you have to be a bastard, otherwise you would have been there that night. A bastard wouldn't know the faces of the dead. You are not an Uchiha—" Sasuke steps closer, until he's right in front of Madara, onyx eyes burning.

Madara blinks and the sharingan swirls to life. One tomoe in the right, two in the left.

Sasuke stutters to a stop and Sakura claps her hands over her mouth.

"I am Uchiha Madara of the sharingan, current head of the Uchiha clan. You have no right to insult my name or claim, cousin."

"You're not the clan head—"

"I am the eldest."

"Then I challenge you for the title. For all I know you could be an eye-thief." Madara inhales sharply and this one Hashirama does understand the severity of. To even be associated with the crime… "My father was clan head, and I am the last Uchiha. The title belongs to me."

"You don't want to do this," Madara whispers softly, staring at Sasuke. The unblinking tension between the two is thick enough to cut.

Sasuke smirks. "What? Afraid you can't do it without holding your boyfriend's hand?"

Boyfriend? That seems needlessly specific. Why not just say 'friend'?

Madara sighs heavily and lets go of Hashirama's hand. "This will not be a fight to the death. I am not going to kill you." Madara says as he sets down his mostly empty bag and hands Hashirama the money box. "What are the conditions?"

"Taijutsu and bukijutsu."

Hashirama picks up Madara's bag and follows them to the center of the field. Sasuke walks ahead, with Sakura trailing by his side. Naruto stays back with him and Madara, nervously biting his lips and looking back and forth between the two Uchiha.

"Look, uh, Madara I'm sure you're good but Sasuke's on a whole 'nother level. He's a crazy good prodigy, the number one rookie, I've never managed to beat him once during a spar," Naruto whispers, face spasming as if the words were painful to say.

"I'm sure he's good, but I'm better," Madara says, sharingan fading from his eyes.

They take their places across from each other on the open green, mirrors of one another. Sasuke in his high collared blue shirt and white shorts, Madara in his purple and black.

"Go Sasuke-kun! You can do it!" Sakura shouts. Naruto turns to look at him.

"You're not gonna cheer for your…ahh…guy?" He asks, cheeks turning pink. Hashirama looks up from the money box. He cannot get the seal open. Madara tells him not to waste all their money on frivolous things, but he must have paid a fortune for this!

"Why would I cheer? I've seen him fight, Madara's going to win. I know it. He knows it. What's the point?" Hashirama shrugs and ignores Sakura's glare.

"You're awfully confident to think you can win without your sharingan," Sasuke says as they start to circle.

"You don't have it. It'd be an unfair advantage."

Sasuke's face twists and he rushes forward, kunai in hand. Madara steps out of the way and he flies past. Sasuke pivots and jabs, but Madara is already a foot to the side. Sakura's cheering slowly dims as they watch Sasuke try to land a hit and Madara dance out of the way at every turn.

Really it's not fair. Madara is insanely fast and Hashirama can see every overextended move Sasuke makes, leaving him open with too much energy expended.

"It's like Kakashi-sensei all over again," Sakura mutters, hands over her mouth.

Pure taijutsu doesn't help. Sasuke goes in for close blows and the few that Madara doesn't dodge all together, he parries and throws Sasuke off-balance. Sasuke stumbles to the ground, only to jump back up with a snarl and even messier footwork.

This is a prodigious genin? Part of Hashirama is glad, it means that there really was no fight or die mentality forced on them since birth. The other part, the one that's survived battle after battle, is horrified. He wouldn't last a minute in war.

"Why won't you hit back?! Stop toying with me!" Sasuke yells, stumbling away. He pants heavily as sweat drips down his face and suctions his shirt to his skin. Madara is unfazed, not a hair out of place. This couldn't even count as one of Yamato's playfights.

"I'm trying to prove a point. I'm stronger than you. I told you not to do this, but you didn't listen to me. This is not a fight you can win," Madara says calmly. If he wasn't so intently focused on Sasuke, Hashirama would think he's bored. He still might be bored. This isn't an exciting fight.

Sasuke gnashes his teeth and races forward for one last sloppy attempt, throwing kunai and shuriken ahead of him. Madara finally pulls out his own kunai and knocks the projectiles away. Sasuke swings and Madara catches his arm, throwing him to the ground. He kneels, one knee on Sasuke's back, one of the boy's hands caught in Madara's and his kunai against Sasuke's neck.

"In just…one move…" Naruto whispers, slack-jawed.

"I told you," Hashirama says, tongue sticking out of his mouth as he rubs at the seal on the box. Maybe if he just scraped it off?

Madara draws a thin line of blood and then steps back.

"I won." Sasuke scrambles into a sitting position, glaring at him. Madara turns, starting to walk back towards them, and Sasuke throws a kunai at his back. Madara whips around and catches it, fist tightening on its handle.

"You'd throw it at my back like a coward?" He sneers and throws the kunai down at Sasuke's feet.

Ah, he's going to do something stupid. Hashirama thinks as Sasuke's face contorts in rage. There's enough of a familial resemblance between Sasuke and Madara, he can tell. Hashirama sets the money box down and brings his hands together, just in case, as Sasuke runs through the hand signs for a Fireball jutsu.

Madara stands, unimpressed, as the wave of fire rushes towards him. He brings his hands together in four signs and then steps forward, hands extended to part the wave of fire around him. Hashirama watches the edge, ready to put up a wall between Sakura and the fire if necessary, but the cut is wide enough that it burns harmlessly past.

That's not a very strong katon. Granted, Hashirama is used to Madara's terrifying pyrotechnic displays and they are in an open field with little to burn but…does he even have a fire affinity?

"You want to try genjutsu, just to see me beat you in that too?" Madara asks, crossing his arms.

Sasuke scowls, face scarlet with humiliation. He doesn't move.

"That's what I thought." Madara walks over to them and picks up his bag. He scowls and snatches the money box back from Hashirama, inspecting it top to bottom, while Hashirama smiles innocently up at him.

But Madara's eyes are truly terrible, for Hashirama, and he spots the slight scrape in the seal's paint. "What did I tell you?! We have a budget, one that I painstakingly made to cover all necessities and to start saving!" Madara yells as Hashirama stands and picks up his bag. He ignores the gob-smacked expressions on the others' faces. "You already spent how much on a fucking frog chair thing that's not even comfortable to sit in?!" Hashirama grabs Madara's hand and waves back at Naruto, who manages to raise his hand before it falls slack to the ground. "And I know you Hashirama, you'd sniff out a card game or a dice game or something else as equally asinine and start gambling the godsdamn minute I let you out of my sight!" Madara continues, long past after they leave the genin and reenter Konoha proper.

Two days before their next mission Hashirama successfully convinces Madara to eat out instead of staying in for another day of random fruits and canned food. Madara, the mini-miser that he is, complains and grumbles as they walk down the streets, but ultimately concedes.

They have a nice, fancy dinner at a sushi restaurant and walk hand in hand around the village for a nighttime stroll. Even after several weeks the lights still fascinate Hashirama. Their scale. Their variety. The village is never truly dark and while Madara mourns the strange haze over the sky that obscures the stars, Hashirama loves these tiny man-made ones. They end up on their cliff, above the strange rocky faces overlooking the village. From here it looks like a pulsing grid of light.

"Not very hidden is it?" Madara scoffs, leaning back on his hands.

"No, but it's pretty." Hashirama isn't looking at the village.

He leans forward and presses his lips softly against Madara's. Feels a thrill that he can, that Madara lets him, that Madara kisses back.

Madara kisses back so enthusiastically Hashirama loses his balance and they topple to the ground. Hashirama laughs, bright and happy, as he cuddles a scowling Madara close. Madara grumbles into his neck and blows absently at a strand of Hashirama's hair.

"You need a haircut," Madara reaches up and tugs on a longer piece that curls around Hashirama's neck.

"You're always complaining about my hair, maybe I should just grow it out," Hashirama says, shifting to get more comfortable on the hard ground.

Madara scoffs and yanks hard on the strand. "Long hair is a liability."

"Yeah, but it's also a mark of power. That you're so strong that it can't hinder you," Hashirama bluffs, pulling the words out of thin air. He hasn't heard of that before, but it sounds good. Madara squints at him.

"You think I couldn't fight with long hair?" He thinks it was a jab at him! Hashirama muffles his laughter and squeezes Madara close. He doesn't take it well, snarling and trying to shove Hashirama's face away. "Stop laughing, you idiot! I'll show you! I'll have the longest hair of any shinobi!" Madara growls.

"Wanna bet on it?" Hashirama presses his cheek against Madara's.

"Of course you'd want to gamble…"

"That's not a no," Hashirama sing-songs.

"Fine. Ten years and then we'll see."

Ten years. He's been meeting with Madara for one. The idea of ten…Warmth fills Hashirama's chest and he fights back tears.

"Deal." And instead of a handshake, he seals it with a chaste kiss.

Afterward, they pick themselves up and make their way back to their tiny house. Just outside the stairwell door, Madara stops and looks behind him.

"Everything okay?" Hashirama asks, pulling the keys from his pocket.

"Yeah…I thought I sensed…" Madara trails off with a shake of his head and they head upstairs for a shower and then bed.

Early the next morning, Hashirama jolts awake to the sound of someone slapping and hitting their door. His eyes snap open and he barely pins Madara before he could throw the kunai he keeps under the pillow.

It's not Yamato. After the first time he was nearly skewered through the wood, they developed a very specific knock so Madara wouldn't think someone was trying to attack them. Whenever Sai came by, he always slipped in through the windows despite Madara's constant scolding. They visited Shin, he was still on bed rest. It wasn't any of them so who…

Hashirama rolls out of bed and shambles towards the door. He opens it and Naruto stumbles forward before catching himself and straightening up. He coughs into his hand and shuffles awkwardly back and forth, occasionally peaking up at Hashirama.

"Is…is Madara here?"

Hashirama blinks. It takes him a moment to process the words.

"Madara! It's for you!"

Hashirama hears a thump and then Madara's growl as he slips from the bed towards the door. He tightens his nemaki from where it's loosened during the night and blinks at Naruto.

"What?" His voice is rough with sleep, hair in even more disarray than usual. Naruto looks between them and peers into the tiny house. His blue eyes widen, round as saucer plates.

"Ohh, you two really are together, together." It's too early to process what that means so Hashirama just nods, yawning into his hand. "Not that I got a problem with it! People can be really mean about all sorts of stuff and I know what that's like, so I don't mind or nothin'," he babbles on but Hashirama has completely lost the point of the conversation. By the glazed look in Madara's eyes, he has too.

"Naruto," Madara interrupts and the boy's mouth shuts with a click, "why are you here at…" he twists around to look at the weird glowing clock by their bed, "four thirty in the morning?"

"Ah!" Naruto snaps to attention and thrusts something towards Madara. It looks like a very thin, shiny book. "It's a coupon catalog!" Madara's eyes snap open at that and he snatches the book up, flipping through it. Hashirama's vision swims as he looks at all the tiny colorful words and bubbles.

"What do you want for it?" Madara asks, cradling the book to his chest. They are definitely going to need a second box.

"Well…" Naruto rocks back and forth on his feet, "Sasuke-bastards's the strongest guy I know and you beat him like it was nothin'. I wanna get stronger and the fastest way to get stronger is to spar with stronger people, right? Kakashi-sensei doesn't take me seriously when I ask and Iruka-sensei is too busy at the academy and you're nice to me so I thought…" he glances at Madara and then the ground.

"You want to spar with me?" Madara asks and Hashirama barely covers his wince.

"Yeah!"

"I'd kill you." Madara is merciless, but accurate. Naruto's shoulders slump.

"O-oh…um…just forget it then," he starts to back away, eyes still lowered to the ground but Madara reaches out and grabs his shoulder.

"You need a sparring partner that's equal to you or slightly better. Sparring with someone too far above your skill level won't teach you anything useful and it'll just frustrate you both. But," Madara's hand tightens and Naruto glances up, hope shining in his eyes, "I could give you a few pointers. Maybe teach you a trick or two."

"Really?!" Hashirama can see his body start to vibrate with excitement. Naruto doesn't wait for Madara to respond, instead leaping forward to grab him in a hug. Madara splutters and looks at Hashirama for help.

"Group hug!" He yells and then crushes both of them to his chest, ignoring Madara's growled, "Hashirama."

Their routine changes a bit after that but only for the better, in Hashirama's opinion. Madara likes kids. Hashirama didn't know this, would have never guessed it, until a little civilian girl got lost and stumbled upon them during one of their river meetings. She was no older than seven with eyes red and swollen from crying. Hashirama was readying his usual distract the younger kids antics, useful after a harrowing battle or when one of the adults pushed them too far in training, but it was Madara who acted first.

Madara who approached the girl like a wary animal, with only a low, calm voice and a promise to help her find her parents. Madara who held the girl tight to his chest, rocking her back and forth as she cried and clung to him. Madara who carried her through the woods until they heard her parent's desperate calls.

It was the gentlest Hashirama has ever seen him. Of course, the minute the girl was out of earshot, he rounded on Hashirama and threatened to cut out his tongue if he ever told anyone. It was still early into their friendship.

Madara likes kids and it becomes very clear to Hashirama that, in his mind, Naruto is a child just like that little girl.

He spends the entire day writing up a terrifying training plan and would even impress Tobirama in how detailed it was. "I like helping Izuna and the other Uchiha kids." Madara explains as Hashirama's flips through the plan. He calls this a hobby, but it looks like a full-time job. Then, after their 'training' with Yamato and Sai, he tracks Naruto down to a tiny house not that far from their own to drag him to an empty training field.

"Show me your basic skills so I can better customize this."

Madara likes kids, but he's a demanding teacher.

And that's what Naruto gets. Not a few pointers or a trick or two, but a full-time teacher, whenever they're in the village.

Naruto…is a baby, Hashirama decides as he watches Madara correct his form as he makes him run through basic taijutsu sequences. It's hard to believe he's twelve, Hashirama feels old compared to him.

And while Madara might be helping him with his ninja skills, that isn't to say Hashirama isn't teaching him useful things too.

"You gotta work on the angle of your brows," Hashirama says, circling his hands around Naruto's head and pushing down. "The tearful eyes and pout aren't nearly as effective if you're furrowing your brows wrong."

"Hashirama! You better not be teaching him weird shit!" Madara yells from the center of the field where he's arranging something that looks overly complicated to help Naruto coordinate his shadow clone jutsu.

"Of course not!" Hashirama yells back and lets go of Naruto's head. "Crying is really useful for getting people to underestimate you, so is playing dumb, but don't try either with Madara. He can see through it like that," Hashirama snaps. "Buuut Madara can be swayed by very well-timed flattery. If you ever piss him off or you really, really want something call him 'Madara-sensei' but don't," Hashirama pokes Naruto's nose and watches as he goes cross-eyed and swats his hand away, "overuse it."

"You're kinda scary, you know that Hashirama?" Naruto squints up at him and Hashirama almost topples over from laughing so hard.

Life is good. They have their missions with Team 13, ones that get more complicated and take them out of Fire Country and into other Lands and Hidden Villages. Hashirama is making slow, agonizing process with the mokuton thanks to Yamato. He doesn't know what to call his new relationship with Madara, but whatever it is it's simply the best and it makes his chest ache with happiness. Whenever they're in the village Yamato insists they meet for lunch every two days no matter what, especially after the microwave incident. In his defense, the Hatake never said anything about not being able to microwave metal. It didn't help that once the machine started sparking, Madara ran it through with his katana. It has yet to be replaced. Every time Sai invites himself over to be a nuisance, they pay him back in kind. But Madara's a stick in the mud and won't let him pull pranks, not with there being a chance they could disturb Shin or ruin his books. Their lessons with Naruto quickly turn into lessons plus a latenight trip to Ichiraku's. Hashirama is no longer banned once he lays down a new floor and promises never to use the mokuton inside again. This is the one and only time Madara's not stingy with money. He treats Naruto every time after finding out how little genin get paid for D-ranks.

Life is good and then they get the assassination contract for Momochi Zabuza, Demon of the Hidden Mist.

Right away, there's a complication.

"Well you're in luck Tazuna. There's another team also headed to the Land of Waves for a mission. They'll also be accompanying you until you reach your destination, for free." Hashirama hears the old Sarutobi's voice as Yamato slides the wooden door open.

They don't know his exact location so they have to act as an escort cover.

Inside the room are familiar faces. The Hatake and his genin. Naruto is being held off of the ground by the scruff of his jacket, kicking and flailing, yelling about how he'll kill the bridge builder.

"Great. Six brats instead of three," Tazuna mutters, taking a swig from his bottle.

Madara scowls but before he could say something, or Yamato could tell him not to say something, Naruto wriggles out of the Hatake's grasp and bolts towards them.

"Madara-sensei, Madara-sensei!" He slams into Madara, who only keeps his footing because Hashirama catches him. This counts as overusing it. Hashirama thinks to himself. He'd poke Naruto's nose if his face wasn't buried in Madara's chest. Behind the long desk, the semi-familiar man with a scar over his nose faints and the old Sarutobi's pipe drops out of his mouth, spilling tobacco on his scrolls. "You're the other team?! We'll be doing our first C-ranked mission together?! That's so cool!" Naruto babbles on as Madara tries to extract himself from the boy's grip and push him back.

"Ooh, you have competition, Hashirama," Sai smiles, wide and fake, as he leans around Hashirama.

"Sai," Yamato sighs, dropping his head in his hand.

"Competition?" Over what? The mission is cooperative.

"Unless you're into that—"

"Sai!"

"Long time no see, Yamato," the Hatake says, but his eye is on Hashirama.

"How're your ribs, Hatake? Did they heal well?" Hashirama smiles widely and the older jonin shudders, retreating behind his two remaining genin. Sasuke is glaring at Madara, arms crossed, while Sakura is looking between all of them with an expression remarkably similar to Yamato's.

There's no way this can end poorly…right?

AN: I love exploring the mechanics of time-travel and it's something I don't see a whole lot in fics. The big question, are they the past of this timeline or from a parallel branch, will be answered but until then it's going to be a cause for stress and angst.

Time-travel doesn't solve problems, it just makes things interesting 😉

Thank you for reading, reviewing, following/favoriting and everything else! It means a lot to me! 3