Madara allowed his fingers to be used as chew toys by his teething baby twin brothers as he seated himself at the engawa on a floor cushion, under the shade with a pot of green tea next to him and a lap full of two squirming infants whilst he verbally instructed his two other younger brothers on their kata.
"Bend your knees more, Izuna. Use the momentum of your core to flow through your movements, Ryouta. That was sloppy at best. Again from the very beginning."
Izuna and Ryouta both whined out complaints but complied, anyway. The two boys were covered in a light sheen of sweat as the afternoon sun tanned their skins a healthy color. Madara himself was far too pale with dark circles and stress lines under his eyes, most of his time spent taking care of his siblings whilst he trained his body indoors - never too far away from the twins.
It has been seven years since his arrival in the past. All of his little brothers were well and alive, Madara having foiled the latest two assassination attempts at Takumi and Yakumi's life - the exact same ones that had claimed them the first time around. His mother, on the other hand, had not been so lucky. It made Madara too paranoid to leave them alone, and even on missions, he would leave a shadow clone behind despite the massive drain on his reserves.
Currently, Madara was twelve, Izuna ten, Ryouta seven, and the twins, Takumi and Yakumi, still newborns at only four months of age. His father, Tajima, only visited them to assign missions or to check on their progress. The nannies were all but frightened away by Madara's impressive glares.
If he were to be sent by the clan head's orders on missions, patrols, or the field with his brothers-in-arms, either Izuna or Ryouta would take care of the twins on his behalf (his clone did a magnificent job of hiding in the shadows). He didn't trust strangers to care for his two vulnerable baby brothers - disregarding the fact that almost all Uchiha were connected one way or another.
When Madara finally called for a break, Izuna and Ryouta all but fell gracelessly to the grassy ground, groaning and moaning about Madara being an 'oni-sensei'. The wordplay always made him smirk discreetly into his high collar whilst pretending to not hear a thing.
Fixing a cloth sling on his front, he adjusted the two newborns and stood up soundlessly. Madara made his way to the kitchen, grabbed a few healthy snacks and drinks, and made his way back to the engawa.
"Wash your hands first," Madara drawled as he slapped Ryouta's itchy fingers away from the tray. The latter stuck his tongue out cheekily whilst running into the house, eager for treats as always. Izuna followed at a more sedated pace, before taking off in a sprint not a second later. The ten-year-old had always tried to be more mature when in front of Madara, but failed spectacularly as always, much to Madara's open amusement.
He could only fondly shake his head at the two brats.
As he settled down, he arranged the cubed fruits and vegetables to be divided into equal portions so that the two would not bicker about him playing favorites 'again'. It greatly amuses and confuses him how competitive they were for his... favor(?).
Izuna, as he slowly came to learn, was different compared to his first life. More outgoing. More childish. More lively -happier. And has a friendly rivalry going with Ryouta, always trying to one-up the other in training or day-to-day activities.
Frankly, it made his heart swell in (parental? Brotherly?) pride. Not that he loved his brothers any less back then, it was... Hm, even in his own head, he was not quite sure how to put it into appropriate words without mucking up the emotion he felt whenever he sees them so vibrant. Perhaps it could be elation? Contentment? Jubilation?
Whatever it was, he just knows that it was a positive emotion.
And Madara, with how protective he was over his brothers' emotional and mental state, had made sure that Tajima's bad influence would not spread to them. He knew that hatred bred for more hatred. And the Uchiha-Senju feud had long lost its purpose. The only reason why they continued this meaningless vendetta was due to their bitter elders passing down their animosity to the younger generation, and when they grow old, they would continue to follow the tradition.
Although not naive like Hashirama with hi- their dream, Madara understood the concept of spilling less blood. To refrain from killing unnecessarily. However, they live in an era when wars were common. There would be casualties. And sacrifices needed to be made if one wanted to protect.
For Madara, it was his life. He would sacrifice whatever he needed to sacrifice to protect his brothers and clan. Even if his future methods would have him bear the brunt of his clan's aversion and hostility.
When the squabbling pair came back, they huddled against his sides as they snatched each other's snack, trying to one-up the other with their rivalry.
Madara sat quietly on his zabuton, enjoying the serene atmosphere as he allowed Yakumi to tug roughly on his long mane and Takumi to continue gumming on his index finger, which was at a cooling temperature thanks to a handy baby-related jutsu.
"Anija?" Madara tilted his head slightly towards Ryouta to show that he was listening, "Are you getting enough sleep?"
Blinking at the unexpected question, Madara tried to remember when exactly he had last slept. The blank he came up with was slightly concerning, but he waved the question away with a murmured, "You need not concern yourself over my sleeping habits. I am well."
"He wasn't asking if you're fine or not, aniki," Izuna rolled his eyes so hard Madara was afraid it would be stuck that way, "Ryouta's asking if you're getting enough sleep. Your eyebags have eyebags and those eyebags have even bigger eyebags."
... Cheeky brat. Madara self-consciously poked at his eye bags.
Izuna was not wrong on that part. Madara did, in fact, notice that the stress lines underneath his eyes were more conspicuous this time around. A reason why he decided to grow out his hair early; his fringe proving to be excellent coverage to shadow his exhausted and sickly features. To hide that he was slowly wilting away, how tired his body constantly felt.
"I sleep enough to function," he ended up saying as he smoothened his fringe down to better cover his eyes.
His answer, apparently, wasn't what Izuna wanted to hear. The latter threw his hands in the air, beyond exasperated.
"Are Yakumi and Takumi keeping you up at night? We can always alternate," Ryouta said tentatively.
"Their closeness brings forth my peace of mind," He intoned.
"Kami, aniki! Can't you just say yes or no? You're speaking like an old man who only knows how to answer without actually answering! It's making my head spin!" Izuna whined.
Madara gave Izuna an unimpressed look, which only made the boy cross his arms with a pout. Cute. In turn, it made Madara drop a surprise kiss to Izuna's forehead, causing the boy to petulantly scowl at him.
"Looking after two babies on your own is tough. They're always making noise at night," Ryouta tried again, which made Madara sigh under his breath.
"As I said before, Ryouta, I am not troubled with my own sleeping habits. Rest assured, otouto, I am not sacrificing sleep for our two youngest." He merely avoided sleeping whenever possible due to paranoia and never-ending night terrors. If that made him spend more time watching his baby twin brothers sleep, then all was good.
"Argh! I can't take it anymore! Aniki you idiot! What Ryouta means to say is that we can look after Taku and Yaku while you nap. You look like you really need one right now. Like, reeeeeeeally need one," Izuna tugged on Madara's sleeve with a put-off look on his face, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed.
Ah.
Now he understood. They were worried. About him. For him.
Madara bent his head and used his birdnest of a hair to cover the small smile playing on his lips and the slight flush he could feel forming on his cheeks. Having his family care for him felt... heavenly. He knew that Ryouta and Izuna both loved him, but to actively see how much they care was... pleasantly shocking to say the least.
"Ohh?" he raised his head with a smile, but this time, it was more sadistic than sweet, "You're not getting out of training, you insufferable brats. Break's over. Run laps around the compound until I tell you to stop. Your stamina is contemptuous."
The jaws of his two adorable little brothers dropped in shock before their features turned to despair.
Despite how touched he felt, he wasn't good with expressing his emotions. Hence, he decided to show his affections by training them till the brink of collapse. His own version of love. This would keep them safer in the long run, better than any verbal declaration of adoration.
As they dragged their feet, whining and complaining about oni-senseis, Madara ducked his head and patted his cheeks, thoroughly embarrassed by their show of kindness. He truly didn't deserve to have such sweet brothers. But despite that, contradictorily, he was a selfish creature that would never let them go.
His smile turned into a frown at that, his chest twinging painfully. He wondered when exactly he should start to distance himself from them. He has not the will to live past the creation of Konohagakure and the erasure of Dokuzetsu, his soul too worn and tired to actually picture himself enjoying his retirement alone, his brother having married with their own families to look after.
Perhaps he should do them all the favor and take himself out of the picture early in their life. The only memories they would have of him would be that of a protective older brother and strict teacher - not the broken and foolish man who only thought that to achieve peace, he needed to bring war into play.
But then, who else would take care of them on his behalf when they were still young and vulnerable? To guarantee their safety? Not Tajima. The man proved himself useless the first time around.
When Yakumi tugged harder at his hair, gurgling for attention, he pushed those dark thoughts to the back of his mind (to submerse and steep) and tickled his baby brother's stomach, loving the way he was cooed and giggled at in return.