Madara didn't know why he woke up this morning with a heavy feeling in his gut, akin to a ball made entirely of irritability and restlessness, which put him more on edge than usual. Perhaps it was because he had not been home for close to three months, or mayhap the frustration built upon by the close proximity of opinionated blue bloods and their raging hormones. Either way, Madara was long overdue for a vacation.

Fortunately, they were close to their final destination, the capital of Hi no Kuni.

Due to the high status of his current clients, Madara, out of all the elite Uchihas available, had to personally escort a group of teenage civilian nobles as they toured the land with their tutor and personal samurai bodyguards. From what he had gathered on this extremely lengthy journey; their intended purpose was to learn how to manage their respective fiefs by way of real, practical experiences. Whilst it was indeed a praiseworthy motive, his clients had underestimated the behaviour of hormonal teenagers under the supervision of one adult tutor.

Madara, with his outstanding looks, was unluckily the target of their raging hormones more often than not, even though he was older than them by a decade (he was turning twenty-six in a month). Out of the five teenagers he guarded, three had tried to get into his pants with unimpressive pick-up lines and coquettish actions, and the last two had skipped that entirely to try and simply grope him. The nerve. All five failed, of course, since Madara made it a point to dodge their attempts like the extraordinary shinobi he was.

Whilst Madara would have loved nothing more than to chop their limbs for their audacity, money ensured that Madara stayed his hand. Often, after every grubby paw that came close to touching his rear end, he had to firmly remind himself that killing them meant no income and that the hefty payment he would soon receive from this extensive mission was necessary for his clan to survive through this upcoming winter.

He blamed his father, whose accounting skills were so lacking that they still affected the clan years after Madara had taken over. Because of him, Madara grew into an absolute miser of an adult.

However, regardless of his mantra, their blatant disrespect still tested his tolerance, and Uchiha Madara was not known for his patience. These young nobles, ignorant of his reputation and strength due to their sheltered upbringing, only thought him a pretty face to tease and harass. They did not know the reason why their parents had hired only Madara as their shinobi guard, nor did they think to ask.

Sadly, throughout the entirety of the mission, Madara had not the chance to show them his prowess in the art of murder, all because his name alone was enough to clear their path of any pest and vermin. Thus, they continued their brazen game of 'who can get into the shinobi guard's pants first' whenever bored, oblivious to how tensed the samurais and tutor became whenever they played it. Madara could see the way the samurais would rest a hand on their respective handles, ready to protect their stupid young masters if Madara lost his temper. Not that they could, mind. They were lucky Madara favoured money more than his pride.

As they arrived at the capital, Madara planned his next move. In his mind, he put together numerous excuses to demand compensation. These dumb, hormonal teenagers better be prepared to receive one hell of a scolding from their parents, Madara was ready to monetarily drain their families dry.

Running through the forest at a speed no civilian could ever think to keep up with, Madara was, at last, free to travel comfortable as he headed home. No wary samurai colleagues to guard from, no hormonal and pompous teenagers to avoid, and no aggravating know-it-all tutors to listen to, just Madara and the trees. Finally.

However, after three days of travel, the ball of irritability and restlessness did not dissipate. Not at the prospect of returning, nor at the teenagers' crestfallen faces when their parents grounded them for daring to disrespect a shinobi of Madara's calibre (he also received monetary compensation as planned, which was more than he had expected). Madara grew tenser the closer he was to breaching Uchiha land.

It was near the waterfall, where Madara had met Hashirama during their childhood days, when the heavy sensation in his stomach drastically plummeted. Madara halted all movements, his body more akin to a statue as he spread his senses to its fullest to try and discern this feeling of unease. His chakra sense picked nothing, and from the thick branch he was crouched on, his form hidden in the shadows, he could see nothing that could have attracted his attention. But he trusted his instincts, they have never failed him, not even once.

The stillness of the forest did not reassure him. It put him further on edge. There wasn't one cricket that chirped, nor was there an owl that hooted. Just unnerving silence that could never be found in a forest that should be busy with wildlife. Animals were much more sensitive than humans, and it was never a good sign when they quietened to this extent.

A muffled sob picked up by his heightened hearing caused his neck to snap towards it, the crimson hue of his sharingan glowing in the darkened forest. Madara, akin to a bloodhound who had found its prey, followed the hushed sounds of crying and gagging. Stealthily, with nary a sound, the grassy ground turned to rocky terrain. He stopped walking.

There, lying just at the bank of the stream, was the source of the noise. Madara, never one to underestimate a potential enemy, observed the person from where he stood. The unknown shinobi in dark garment appeared to be suffering from chakra exhaustion, which was why Madara hadn't been able to sense them. They were on their back, with legs that appeared deformed as if they had fallen from a terrific height.

Blood had stained the pebbles underneath their head, pointing to a head injury, and their hands were fumbling around; either for a weapon or feeling for more bodily injuries. They had, somewhen, stopped crying during Madara's observation, and when they wheezed to try and gather more air into their lungs, their head had turned slightly to face his direction.

Madara, horrified, wanted to curse at the sight of empty eye sockets. He didn't hesitate to walk closer, the unease he has been feeling practically intensified at the uchiwa – his clan's crest – stitched at the unknown Uchiha's left chest. Madara could feel his rage bubbling underneath his skin, nostrils flared and crimson eyes flickering off and on from normal to the mangekyou, too agitated and distressed to control the level his sharingan sat.

Madara knelt on one knee, his eyes mapping the shinobi's features to try and recognize the identity of his clansman. He could not put a name on the face, but the teen (youngtooyoung) had features common for an Uchiha, and Madara was disturbed to see a mix of Hansha and Kagami in there. They were also the only Uchihas who have curly hair, the same as this teen. Madara had a feeling that Kenichi, before his death, might have found his soulmate outside the clan and copulated despite his married status. Madara could only shake his head at that, but this was not the time or place for such assumptions or judgements.

Distracted as he was, he did not realize what the teen was doing until the glint of moonlight reflecting off the kunai alerted him of something amiss. The teen scared the shit out of him by trying to off himself via kunai to the neck. Madara caught the wrist before the teen could do more than break the outermost layer of his skin.

Knowing that the teen was chakra exhausted and unable to see nor sense him, Madara was prepared for the freak-out when it happened. He did not mind when his cheek was grazed by a weak fist. "Cease and desist!" Madara commanded whilst grabbing at the other Uchiha's flailing fist, not wanting the teen to further hurt himself by accident.

As if a switch was flipped, the teen halted all movements. His expression, which was filled with terror, smoothened into a mischievous and playful smirk, which was eerily like Izuna's. Madara would have been completely impressed by the teen's impeccable poker face if it were not for their current situation.

The teen huffed, almost arrogantly as he voiced, "If you're looking for Uchiha eyeballs, I'm afraid you're out of luck. Just got mine plucked, see?" Grinning from ear to ear, he continued with a cackle, "And if you're looking for a stallion, buddy, I must say you're really unlucky to have met me. My Uchiha blood is so diluted it'll be a miracle for any of my spawns to awaken the sharingan."

The words the teen spoke almost sent Madara into a frenzied state of rage, the desire to huntkillprotect itching at the forefront of his mind. Not only did the teen gotten his eyes gouged out, but he was also expecting the people/person who did this to capture him for breeding purposes?! Over Madara's dead body would he allow that to happen to any of his clansmen!

"Who?" Madara almost snarled his demand but managed to hold back. He absentmindedly loosened his grip on the wrists, afraid that his rage might boil over and hurt the already wounded teen more.

"You'll have to be more specific, pal."

"Who did this to you?"

There was a flicker of unease that broke the teen's poker face for a microsecond, but Madara's sharingan was still activated and it was not lost to him.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" The teen taunted gleefully.

Madara hissed, one part angered to be denied such vital information needed to protect the teen and the other disapproving. Couldn't the teen see that Madara was trying to help? Before he could reprimand the teen, he was tugged forward and surprised when a tanto was spat out by the teen (how?!).

The tip of the blade managed to nick a shallow line on his left cheek as Madara tilted his head hurriedly. Without conscious effort, muscle memory and training dictate him to restrain the teen... which he realized, had not been such a great idea when he heard the painful snapping of bones under his gloved hands. It was concerning that the teen showed no signs of pain, though he fainted not long after Madara was done.

It made him more distressed, which was... unsettling. Whilst Madara was indeed responsible for his clan and clansmen, he knew to separate his responsibilities and never take his job personally. Clinical detachment was necessary when handling such cases, lest he burnout and die early from stress. There was a line that must be drawn and never crossed, especially for the head of the clan.

However, the nagging sensation at the back of his mind refused to leave, refused to quiet down, and continued to nag at him to cross that line. He felt... obliged, for the lack of better wording, to help the teen, to protect and nurture.

Madara has a suspicion as to why, but he should not get distracted by it for now. He must prioritize. He needed to get them to safety, first and foremost.

The clan's top healer was soon called to his house to treat the unidentified Uchiha teen. There was not much she could do apart from realigning and splinting his legs – which were a mess no thanks to Madara's brutish manhandling – and applying antibiotics to his empty eye sockets, but he was not surprised. Uchihas were born and bred for warfare, so their repertoire of healing jutsus were limited at best, and of no help in this scenario.

The elderly healer left once she was done, waving off Madara's gratitude whilst muttering about one thing or another. He took a seat next to the sleeping teen's futon, a bowl of hot water to his right, towels and fresh yukata to his left.

Izuna stood near the door, back against the wall and arms crossed. Having kept his silence all the while, his little brother finally parted his lips to question him, "Nii-san, who is this? Why did you bring him here?"

Madara wondered how he could explain the need to protect the teen to Izuna. "Here, as in my house, or here, as in the bedroom next to mine? Either way, I do not have the answer." But he has his suspicions, not that he would voice them out without concrete evidence.

"Nii-san..." There was warning in Izuna's voice, which Madara admitted was warranted in this situation. "As our head, you cannot show favouritism, especially not to someone who I don't doubt is a bastard. I don't recognize him, and we both know I know everyone in the clan."

He turned to face his little brother wearily. "You need not remind me, Izuna. I am fully aware that my actions have... diverged from the norm." Pointedly looking away, Madara slowly, and with a gentleness that was unusual from him, supported the teen's upper body to lean against his chest. He then pulled the dirty top off the teen, intending to clean the blood and dirt off him.

"Then why continue?" A hint of dissatisfaction flashed across Izuna's eyes as he huffed and turned away, discomforted by the intimacy of his older brother's actions. "I can call one of our retainers to wash him, nii-san, you don't need to personally care for him."

"... I know." Yet Madara's hands did not stop to use a damp towel to wipe at the teen's back. Once he finished drying it, he laid him back on the futon.

Although he tried to avoid intruding upon the teen's privacy, Madara's eyes could not help but stray towards the massive soulmark located directly under the left collarbone. It was a white jaguar with manji shuriken-esque fur pattern sitting with its tail curled. It appeared elegant and dangerous, ready to pounce and shred its enemies into ribbons.

Removing his sight from the mark, Madara could feel a sense of disappointment settling in his chest. He had thought the teen his, but it seemed he was wrong. With a sigh, he went back to wiping the unconscious teen's chest. Madara would find a place for the teen to recover after he was done cleaning him. The wash was already underway, so it would not hurt to at least finish what he started.

When Madara began wiping the teen's right limb, however, he froze. His heart rate picked up as his entire system flooded with adrenaline. There seemed to be lightning in his veins, a sensation of warmth and expectation.

It was a second soulmark, located on the teen's palm. It was the same as Madara's; a circle that was shaded the same colour as the sharingan. Inside was Madara's mangekyou pattern, along with that unique manji shuriken-esque pattern on the jaguar. They overlapped, and Madara could only wonder in fascination if that manji shuriken pattern was the teen's mangekyou pattern, and if they exchanged eyes, would their eternal mangekyou be patterned similarly to their soulmark?

That wonderful curiosity, however, turned into resigned fury when he recalled the teen's lack of eyeballs; because someone had dared gouged his soulmate's eyes out. It made the anger curl in his chest once more, but he was quick to bottle it up for a later time. He would release his rage at the eye-thief once caught. For now, he had other more concerning matters. Like telling Izuna he has finally found his soulmate.

"I think I know why now," Madara murmured, unable to remove his gaze from the teen's right palm.

Again, it was no wonder he could not resist the urge to protect and nurture. His suspicions and instincts had been right. As the older pair, he was the protector – and Madara instinctually wanted to put the teen's name into his household register, to adopt him as a family member. It was surreal, but already, he could feel himself getting attached.

With reverence, he traced the mark with his finger. Madara's mark. It matched the one on his left palm. Madara was desperate in his desire to complete the soul bond between them, but that was an impossibility unless Madara could procure another set of eyes for the teen. He would have gladly offered one of his, but they were his deadliest weapon against his enemies, and he could not give them up if he wanted to keep his brother and clan safe.

Reluctant but determined, Madara decided that he would keep his status as his soulmate silent, for now, not wanting the news to push the teen into further despair. It truly was unfortunate that one required sight to complete the bond for those not born blind.

"Izuna, he's my platonic soulmate."

"... What?!"

Madara looked up, wonderment and bitterness in his eyes as he gazed into his brother's shocked, widened ones.

As someone who has no interest in romance, Madara has always had insecurities about his soulmate; had feared that whoever they were, they would try to pursue a romantic bond with him. He would feel too guilty to refuse, while simultaneously, he would feel too guilty that he would not be able to return their affection in the way they would like.

Madara could understand the general concept of love in his head, but at the same time, he could not really understand, could not feel what Izuna or Hikaku feel for their respective wives. However, he did not need to worry about that now. He felt unburdened by this revelation and could only thank Amaterasu for allowing him to love someone in a way that he could.

His lips were stretched into a grin. "He's my platonic soulmate," Madara repeated once more. Because his soulmate has two soulmarks, Madara would not have to feel guilty over choosing a family bond over a romantic bond. He could choose to be a brother, not a lover.

It was the third day that Madara decided he would try to share his flame with the unconscious teen. At first, he was hesitant; non-Uchihas were burned from the inside out, and he did not want to accidentally roast his newly found soulmate in his attempt to help. But after weighing the pros and cons, he ventured to start small. If there were adverse effects, he would stop.

When his flames did not burn, Madara lost his hesitation and was quick to increase the dosage of his flames. It was concerning that the teen's chakra core remained empty despite his attempts to fill it, but that might have something to do with individual priorities – the teen's subconscious system might prefer to passively use the newly acquired chakra to boost his healing speed rather than store it for active use.

Coincidentally, the teen started to stir then. Madara cut off his flames and eagerly waited for the teen to rouse.

Their first meeting... did not exactly go as planned.

Izuna had stormed off, beyond angered by the teen's ideology, which was similar to Madara's. It was gratifying, yet he felt conflicted. He chased after his younger brother, disliking the idea of conflict between two of his favourite people. Although he had not known the teen – Shisui – for long, Madara was beginning to care for him like one of his younger brothers. Especially after the traumatizing experience Shisui had been through.

He found Izuna pacing in his backyard. Wary of any sudden outbursts, Madara brushed his chakra against his brother's, to give a little warning of his approach. Izuna did not stop pacing.

"Izuna? What's wrong?"

Izuna stopped abruptly, his cold gaze narrowing onto Madara. "What's wrong? What's wrong?! He's too fucking soft is what's wrong! Did his Uchiha parent not educate him about our way of conduct?! This is why bastards from outside the clan don't live long lives," Izuna seethed, teeth bared. "Everyone that has harmed us, regardless of age and gender, show them no pity – an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, blood for blood, and a life for a life, that has always been the clan's way! Nii-san, you can't be foolish enough to let this go, right? He may be your soulmate, but you shouldn't be blind to his faults! Tell him he's wrong! Tell him he must inform us of the clan who dared rebel against the Uchiha! If he's too soft to annihilate them, then we can do it for him. There's nothing wrong with that, yes?! He shouldn't go about spouting such disgustingly stupid beliefs. The Uchiha clan is a clan destined for revenge."

"Izuna..."

"Right, Madara-niisan?!"

Madara had to look away from his little brother's eyes at that. They were dark, bloodthirsty, and unbearably filled with the desire to hunt, to hurt, to torment. It was a gaze Madara was slowly getting familiar with as of late.

Izuna hasn't been the same after the death of his youngest child. Fewer smiles and more bitter denials. His younger brother's resentment and bitter need for revenge were mostly suppressed, but sometimes, that darkness would make itself known, pointed at whoever angered or crossed him.

Whilst he understood the reason for Izuna's wrath, he also understood Shisui's concept of acceptance and moving forward. Shisui was not shy to get revenge, by the sounds of it, but he was not one to go further than what was deemed necessary.

After all, why must they kill innocent people because they were blood-tied to the sinner? Haven't they, the Uchiha clan, have enough enemies to keep an eye on? Already, Shisui has assured them that the eye thief and cohort were no more, so why must they stubbornly continue to persist? Just because of tradition?

No, Madara was already tired of their bloodthirsty tradition. He would rather have a future where children were kept from the battlefield. He would rather have a future where graves were not dug for little ones that died prematurely. He would rather have a future where he could see Izuna and his family grow old together and die of old age.

If only they have an olive branch to extend to the Senju. If only he could reach out for the hand Hashirama offered. If only the village they talked about in their childhood could be achieved. If only there was a way for Izuna to let go of his inner darkness and hatred. If only he could find a way to protect his loved ones without further bloodshed. If only the clans would stop warring long enough to think about their children's future. If only, if only, if only.

But he could never say those words out loud, lest a riot occurred, especially if an elder in their council heard somehow. Thus, in the end, Madara reluctantly agreed with Izuna's words to soothe the younger's temper, even if it was a lie.

A small breeze played with the long strands of his inky black hair as he glanced up at the cloudless sky. With eyelids that fluttered to a close, he could not quite enjoy the pleasant sensation of sunshine on his skin.

His mind was heavy, as knew he could only continue to dream a useless dream. Peace was an impossibility, for if a human wanted to protect, another must be sacrificed. Bodies will continue to pile, and blood will continue to spill. It was inevitable, for they were shinobi.

"Kagami mistook him for Hansha," Izuna announced as soon as Madara returned home exhausted from the meeting. He gave his brother a tired look, wishing that they could do this tomorrow. Izuna ignored his look and continued almost nonchalantly, "He also asked for Kenichi-san."

Madara hummed, just to delay the conversation, as he continued to remove his sandals, slipping into indoor slippers before he moved towards the kitchen with Izuna next to him. "We already suspected as much. Once Shisui recovers enough to walk, I will formally introduce him to the clan as Kenichi's youngest son."

"And Kagami?" His younger brother queried.

Madara waved for Izuna to sit as he retrieved his favourite pot and started brewing some tea. The motion of preparing tea has always been calming to him. "He will remain with his uncle, of course. Will you be staying for dinner?"

"No. I'll be eating with Nana and the kids." Izuna nodded his thanks as he was handed a cup. "I can start preparing a house for Shisui and Kagami to move into. Or they can use Hansha's, I suppose."

Madara was already shaking his head. "They will live here, with me."

Izuna immediately glared. "Nii-san," his tone was full of disapproval. "Need I remind you again that you are the head of our clan. Favouritism should not –"

"Shisui is my soulmate, Izuna," Madara cut in, frowning. "My soulmate who is injured–"

"And I respect that. I haven't kicked him out yet, have I? Once he recovers–"

"He is blind." Madara could already feel his temper begin to rise as they yet again have this conversation. But he quickly swallowed a mouthful of tea to prevent himself from yelling. There was no need to alarm Shisui with their argument (which has become an almost daily thing now). "If you think that I will allow my blind soulmate to live on his own–"

"Kagami will be with him–"

"Kagami is four."

"And growing. He can look after his uncle fine–"

"Shisui stays with me, Izuna, and that's final." Madara put his hands down, eyebrows pinched. "My house is his, as it is yours."

"Shisui isn't family," Izuna persisted.

"His name has already been written into the family register," Madara dismissed.

"Wait, what?!" The younger Uchiha rose from his seat, flabbergasted. "You did WHAT?! Without consulting me?!"

Madara clicked his tongue, arms crossed as he remained in his seat. "Sit down and lower your voice." He warily glanced at the ceiling where Shisui's bedroom was located. There did not seem to be any movements, at least, which relieved him. Although... why did he sense Kagami's chakra signature next to Shisui? Madara's lips part, ready to question his brother, but was unfortunately cut off.

"No, I will not!" Izuna growled. "You are letting your emotions get the better of you! Seriously, what the hell were you thinking?! No, you weren't!"

Before Madara could reprimand him, or even call him a hypocrite because clearly, it was Izuna being the emotional one here, his younger brother had stomped out of the kitchen.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Madara contemplated chasing after him. The sound of his front door being slammed shut was all the answer he needed. Yeah, he would allow Izuna to cool down first before they continued this conversation.

Madara sighed. He was getting too old for all this drama.

A/N:

A shame that so many of you refused the idea of Shisui getting one of his leg amputated (˵¯͒⌢͗¯͒˵) Oh well. I'll think of something else.

Can anyone guess who Shisui's romantic soulmate is? Virtual cookies to those who are correct! (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ