By his own standard, Madara could maintain himself long enough to take proper protocol of his clan. They each would look upon him as expectations stood, a pity would reach, but was never spoken unto. Instead, all would play upon ignorance and smile to him as best they could, though for many a friend had been lost, the effect did not reach into their minds as it did his own and Madara was aware of this. So he continued in methodology as best he may without the constant comforting of his bride doing the same. Regardless, despite his fervent understanding of his patriarchal positioning as was formally taught by his father; he could not perform properly that which was the duty of the Matriarch, and was therein best performed by said Matriarch.

The cobblestone pathway of the Uchiha district was a subtle sound against his ears, and rang softly therein. He knew not why this was so, but many considerations were about his mind and the gentle sound of crunching pebbles was of little concern. Not long past, during the same period of time when the shadows were short and the sun far to the east; Naru had been alive, and speaking to him in a calm tone of voice with a happiness singing in his actions as a skip slightly took over his steps. Madara could recall, they had been walking with Jiraiya clinging onto both their hands, the boy often gazing in wonder at the clouds above, many times this caused the toddler to trip over his own short, small, feet, though he had laughed with his mother each time. Then, with his smile full and still enthralled with laughter; Naruto would look up to meet his eyes and smile joyfully, as if all his aspirations and dreams had come forth by his husband's affection. Madara could imagine nothing more pacifying then such an envisionment of tranquility, he supposed, that even then his bride had been carrying their new child within, perhaps the young hanayome had known, even then.

Eyes came through to show him the reality, and the daunting visage of the Hokage building. A sigh came upon him, for a moment he held a hope his bride would return to him and explain the jest: of course this did not occur. Even so, he knew that such a want was futile by the simple understanding Naru would be angered with him for his instability; for having left their precious son to the care of his Godmother. In his own illogic, he had done it for Jiraiya's safety, as it were in such a circumstance where he hadn't believed himself stable, and certainly not taken himself as responsible enough to care for a child. Though, Hashirama had attempted to aid in his own soft -occasionally angry, manner of comfort. There had been propositions that medical-ninjutsu may help his mentality though all the times the Senju had tried ended with nothing soothing his head.

Now, he knew himself to be well enough to take care of his son, to maintain his clan. Even with his mind still screaming at the desolation felt by empty emotionally continuity. He expected nothing was to feel correct as it stood, and had taken to accepting the sensation rather then fighting against it in futility.

Therein he entered the newly designated office of the village leader. Soon proclaimed was a shout: "Daddy!" Came the broken call from a child too young, and even while under the prospect of non-functioning emotion, a feeling sampling joy came to Madara then. No other regard settling upon him at the sight of the small boy running to him, so, as he had seen displayed by fellows, he crouched low -for his height, and outreached his arms, perhaps the glimmer of a simper came to him then. Whence holding his son, a painful clench came upon his chest, acceptable, only under the knowledge that it was the same warming love which his bride had once provided.

"Madara!" He glimpsed to Hashirama, who was smiling with ridiculous ponytails in his hair. "I thought I wouldn't get to see you again anytime soon!" Through the normal demeanour of his friend, Madara found himself almost snorting at the idea, and while in company; he kissed the forehead of Jiraiya without reservation, even gaining one on his cheek in return; that served to brighten his mind slightly despite the small action.

Looking more thoroughly upon his friend, he noticed that Hashirama had come into his second trimester for certainty. Radiating his aura ever further, as a grin was settled upon him regardless of recent events, though even with his own mind's instability dissuading thought, Madara bore no prejudice against the sight; his acknowledgement of an omega in impending motherhood overrode any ill-contrivived notion of mourning formality. Instead, he stood to full height, taking an uncaring note of the lack of albino within the room, merely evaluating the office slightly, and attempting to with-hold the want for Naru to see everything.

In opposition to temperate feelings stroking at Jiraiya's hair, however, his surprise was quite well seen Hashirama, as he took notice of small greying hairs on his son's head. A question rested in his gaze as he met the brown-toned man, but received no answer as the Senju pulled a strand of his Godson's hair upwards in glimpse. Reaching the same findings, and seeing similar greying hairs growing from the skelp.

"Madara, does Jiraiya have any relations with grey or white hair?" The confusion remained, and neither could think clear on an answer. Considering far more then he wished, the Uchiha could only remember a vague memory of Naru stating he hadn't known his parentage -likely including any genealogy therein. Madara knew for certainty his own mother had navy tones, and his father was that which he had inherited himself. None of his siblings had a whitened or grey hair colour neither, and though the possibility came upon him; the prospect of Naru having been unloyal was a notion considered impossible: Not merely because he would've known, but simply as any connection his bride had with the silver haired Hatake was brief, or upon the day of the massacre, which was many years after Jiraiya's brith. Indeed, Madara rationalized, Jiraiya activated his sharingan the night of his mother's murder.

"None that I know of." As it were, the prospect stood simple among them, the young Uchiha had simply begun to grow white or grey hair in place of his father's black. "Perhaps it is a further genetic trait from his mother, though he already has Naru's skin tone."

Something came to Hashirama's expression then, replacing the perplexion previously inlain there, a tonation of concern. A glimmer easily and quickly replaced by an uncertain smile placating in nature. "Well, Jiraiya-chan is certain to be a handsome man, with his Father's and Mother's appearances working in tandem! All the Omega's will surely adore his beauty, maybe Tsunade-chan here!" He rubbed lovingly upon his outgrowing abdomen, and Madara found himself in the mood to smile at the concept.

"A name already?" Again, his expression shifted, tenderly this time.

"Little Jiraiya here said Naru-san spoke of a Tsunade on occasion. I came to enjoy the name."


Breath came to him suddenly, with action as his entire body drove upwards. Vision clearing to meet with the bright outline of orange and whitened sheets. Still holding a blurred outcome, he wished for a hallucination to have greeted him in falsehood. With ire, as his iris's gave clarity the reality imparted upon him an outcome ill favoured, cruel. Meeting then the visage of a slouching figure upon the bedsheets of white, covering herself with arms lazily placed, nay, a near fainting posturance. Pink invading his sight, even as the woman steered to waking, Naruto wished he could fall asleep once more. The hope for delusion becoming more futile as the moments progressed, feeling could not approach him then as a bleakness made a settlement unto his mentality.

Thought however, did not hide itself in kindness, it augmented his reality as concept came to him with wakeful eyes; had it been a dream, an illusion? Madara? A pain frothed his head then, ignored by the echo of his thoughts forming fear. No words arose even as Sakura woke, looking onto him, first with a hopeless glance, then, green became emerald, a grin formed, and Naruto found himself jumped upon.

"You're awake... I'm so glad you're alright." Sobs rang through his ears then, and Naruto could not bare to move.

Wondering, with a shudder in his hands: Had Madara cried, had Jiraiya? The fear did not dissipate even under familiar embrace.