Silence came to follow, though neither of them could mark it, the experience came in relief, both of them standing in a fixated stare upon each other. Madara stood with a clearly visualized shock, while Naruto felt his own eyes beginning to tear at the sight he had been granted. Neither of them could with-hold themselves from the temptation, sprung into the other's embrace at the sight, holding, indeed clinging, onto their spouse with a strength that marked rivalry of the kyuubi himself as their joy was clearly showcased onto each other. Unexpected and welcome, warm by the standard of any who understood the gift granted, by misfortune Naruto looked at his hands encircling his husband and saw the simplistic, recognizable sight of his orange jumpsuit upon his arms. Further tears escaped him at the understanding the sight imparted upon him, he withdrew himself in reluctance from the grip holding him, Madara reacting much the same.

With tears cascading upon his face, blurring his images and distorting his expression. No longer joyful, now made wanting, horrified, and anxious. Mouth curved as a frown while his chest tightened to clench at a heart which refused to beat. Wet, darkened blue eyes stared into those of his husband; looking down upon him, crimson and wet as his own. As opposed to the frown which pertained his own face, Naru noticed in bleak feeling, the Uchiha before him -his love- was scowling upon him. He knew well why.

A growl escaped pale lips. Naruto watched as Madara's body reacted to a comprehensible anger, his robe tightening around his form as his muscles tensed. He appeared as a warlord; that whom was so despised within the Konoha beruled by yet another Senju. "You-" He breathed through his nose, a heave of his chest. "-Are not, can not, be Naru. Speak fastly: Who you be, heathen that you are." Yet another scowl came upon the already strained express Madara bore.

Naruto restrained himself from making blunt statement. Knowledgeable already that his homupowa would recognize his appearance; clothing, hair, headband at all. However, with the circumstance as it were, being an intellectual man, the Patriarch would not comprehend his bride's sudden youthful complexion, nor arrival. He kept his gaze firmly upon the swirling sharingan above, barely restraining hyperventilation as nerves began to quake his determination to speak clear.

"I am not real." Upon his own ears, his voice sounded firm, yet he felt uncertain of himself under the scrutiny. "Madara, neither are you." Something eased in the posture of the man afore him, in addition to his sharingan's disappearance. Yet, in opposition a sorrow became in its stead, a casted expression of indeepened longing, wistful in essence as his blackened irises drifted to the forest beside his arms crossed over his chest. Within the moment it remained, the genin could not take breath as all inside him told to comfort his husband. However, the moment left, and he was met with stoicism, that which he recognized well, but his chest tightened further at the regard; for it was an expression which Madara had worn for meetings he could not care for, or persons whom he largely held in disdain.

Still, Naruto managed to force himself into speaking, a vague hope lurking at the back of the sentence. "I am Uzumaki Naruto, I am your hanayome, and-" Hesitance grappled him for a second at the wording, the explanations he could give twirled within his mind. "-And I am dead." There was nothing else he could fathom to say, for it was the truth as Madara knew it to be. "You, are likely asleep." For he couldn't know how the man had come to where they were, he could not know his own reasoning for being amongst his husband again.

Without a conscious thought on the movement, he raised his hand to touch at the black hair afore him, the pale skin of the tall man's face. His wet sapphire eyes watching as his own tanned thumb traced the lines of strain underneath his Alpha's lids, now thickened, deepened, by trials Naru knew not. The chary smile came onto him as a cautious happiness emerged in his mentality. And as his hand was caught by the scarred pale one of the man above him, his breath began to shake; scepticism intermingling with the exultation peeking through his emotions. Emboldened by the action, he took glimpse to the irises he knew, and found those much similar to his own -or rather, what he knew his eyes to be: Saddened, wet, softened. It was a comfort, brought unto the desolate mind of the Uzumaki as he leaned forward for nothing more then an embrace.

Instead, lips met his hair, and he was pulled into a hold with such a graceful movement he hadn't seen the action. "I wish I were returned to the fields. Awaiting for another strike to come for me, observing another man fall near me, feeling the blood seep through my gloves as a woman dies from my blade." Softly spoken, yet the meaning had Naruto gasping, attempting to escape with hands pushing at the abdomen his head had nearly rested at. "This is cruelty, that was benign in collation. Naru…" Then with the metaphor clear, the former Matriarch relaxed himself once more into the embrace, ambiance awash over him at the familiar cold upon his cheek as Madara straightened. A large hand within his shortened hair, as his own held at the shoulderblades twitching beneath his fingers. "Wicked… to give me this, then steal it once more."

Though calm, a negativity nagged at his mind at the words, looking up to see the chin of his husband glancing away -though the hand in his hair continued to gently move.- "Madara, its sadistic to me too, but I have you with me now. We have each other to hold now, we can revel in each other's company now... I can kiss you now, I can love you now. I won't waste that on considering the sadness in the moment, I will only rejoice while I'm here, and I will cry later, when I am not." He expected a teasing word to come from the man in coy, knowledgeable demeanour as he knew. But in its stead, even while wearing a tenderized smirk well fitted in place, Madara stared down upon him with a sweetened expression Naruto had scarcely ever seen and the grip he was within tightened in slight.

"You glare well."