Author's Note: I'm trying really hard to stick to shorter chapters. I feel like this works better, right? Also, thanks to Kitsune for the review! I'm so glad you're enjoying it. I'm super enjoying writing this as well!

Chapter 5: Good Faith

The Hyūga's wedding ceremonies were quiet and elegant, much like everything else they did. The party consisted of only seventeen people: the bride, the groom, the respective heads of the Uchiha and Hyūga clans to officiate, three guests of honor within the village government to bless the union, and ten regular guests; five of the bride's choosing, and five of the groom's.

Umika admired her friend. Amata looked stunning in her pure white bridal dress and perfect makeup. Both girls grew up poor, but no one would have guessed it with how regally Amata carried herself. Every breath and blink radiated with dignified purpose. Her grace and poise were everything the Uchiha could have wished for in sending a representative forth to the Hyūga. Umika only wished for one more day with her best friend. After tonight, she would be locked behind the compound doors.

Madara's attention was on neither the bride nor the groom. His eyes were fixed solely on Umika. His thoughts betrayed his reverent mannerisms.

'She's pretty, isn't she?' The memory of Izuna's voice tugged at the still raw grief that had lingered in Madara's chest since his little brother's death.

You like her. Madara's lips twitched, attempting to mouth the words they had said to Izuna upon his confession.

'Do you think she likes me, too?'

Why don't you ask her?

'W-well…what if she says no?'

Are you…blushing?

'I am not!'

You are! You're blushing!

'N-no!'

Hah! Don't tell me the same brat that charges into the front lines without a moment's hesitation is afraid to talk to a girl!

'No one is afraid! You talk too much, Madara! We came here to train, so lift your sword!' Blushing or not, Madara would have given anything to see Izuna's face again. The thought stayed with him through the rest of the ceremony, even as he exchanged obligatory pleasantries with the Hyūga clan head, Hachiro.

"I have something for you before you go." Hachiro motioned over a servant. The young Hyūga girl handed Madara a carefully wrapped box.

"What is it?" Madara asked, undoing the ribbon.

"A show of good faith." Hachiro replied. The Uchiha man popped open the lid to find a white silk kimono. He closed it, unsure of what else to say. "I figured it was time for it to return to your clan."

"Return?" Madara's brow twitched. "What do you mean?" The clan heads exchanged a strange look.

"…she never told you." Hachiro suddenly realized. Madara kept his gaze fixed, waiting for the man to explain. "When Umika came to collect a medic for Izuna, she made three offers in exchange for our help. The first was a small purse of all the money she had managed to save up to that point. A small amount, barely worth the trouble of even hearing her proposal. The second was this silk kimono. It was the only thing she had left of her mother's."

"And the third?"

"Her servitude, if the dress did not cover the expense. She said it was the only thing of value her family had. My father was so moved by her plea. On that basis alone, he allowed me to travel to your home to try and administer treatment." Hachiro clicked his tongue at the mere thought of that tragic day. "Even as foregone as his health was, I never expected Izuna to ask me to remove his eyes and place them in you."

"None of us did." Madara mumbled, carefully rewrapping the decorative box in its ribbon. "Thank you for this. I'm sure she'll be happy to see it again."

Madara took his leave as early as socially acceptable, with Umika trailing close behind him.

"It was a nice wedding." She tried her best to fill the silence between them as they walked home through the dark streets. Madara hummed a response, his mind still preoccupied. But it was like she could read it. "I wonder who Izuna would have married."

"What?" His voice was needled with anger.

"I-I just—" She nervously swallowed her words. "He was so popular. He talked about it sometimes. You know, getting married. …I was just thinking out loud." He watched her carefully, trying to determine if he was upset with her or just upset at the memories that were fresh in his mind. God, he just wanted to see Izuna again. He lifted the box in his hand.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked. She shook her head. "Your mother's wedding dress." Her eyes instantly anchored to the lid. "Hachiro returned it as a show of good faith in our clans' new alliance."

"C-can I—"

"What will I get in return?"

"What do you want?"

"Show me your last memories of Izuna. Every detail." It was not a request Madara had ever made before. Initially, he had tried desperately to set aside his grief and build something new in the village. But no matter what, he found opposition everywhere he went. Tobirama was vehemently against appointing him as Hokage, suggesting a 'democratic vote' instead. The young Senju was no fool. Even more, he had a head for politics. He knew full well that Madara's support was low among the Uchiha due to his hesitancy to surrender. The early defectors were sure to align themselves with Hashirama. He would never win a democratic vote. Most likely, Hashirama would not even recommend him to the Fire Lord as a candidate for consideration. And the more impatience Madara showed with the skewed treatment, the more the Uchiha maligned him as a warmonger. The trying stopped and the desperation grew. And now, at the lowest he had felt since Izuna's death, Madara just need something to fill the void in his soul.

"Here?" Umika asked, glancing around the empty streets. He understood. He didn't want to be interrupted either. He grabbed her hand and pulled her along the rest of the way. She hissed when his grip bent the compress binding along her wrist. Her sandals made an even sound as she limped. Her careful steps were trying not to shift the bandages on her cut foot.

The extent of her injuries became even more apparent once they were in the safety of their home. Practically her whole body was swathed in gauze.

"Why don't you just go to the medic?" Madara chided, watching her slip into her home clothes.

"They make fun of me." Umika murmured.

"How?"

"They say awful things about me." she explained, tying her hair back into a messy bun. "To others."

"Who?" he questioned. She shook her head, refusing to burden him. He suddenly remembered her uncharacteristic actions from earlier. Umika rarely resorted to violence, even in the heat of battle. For her to spit flames at someone, the transgression would have to be severe. "What did Kaito say to you?" More silence. "Tell me, Umika!" Tears began to well up in her eyes.

"H-he said people had told him…I was your whore." Her lip quivered. Her cheeks heated from the embarrassment of repeating the vile insults. "That my parents h-had sold—" She muzzled a sob. "Sold me to your father. That he had bought me young for you." Madara gently lifted her injured wrist. "I-I tried to leave and he—"

"So, you burned him." A satisfied smirk crept across Madara's lips. It was such a change from how he had reacted to the same news before that Umika opted to stay quiet until she knew for sure what he was feeling. A small chuckle left him at first. Then a slightly deeper one. It built until the laugh came from his stomach. "I hope it hurt like hell."

"I ruined his hair." Umika added, happy to see him smiling again. The doting look on his face stayed as he pulled her closer.

"Show me."

"Izuna?" He nodded, taking a seat on her bed. When they were younger, she would bring Madara and Izuna into her illusions. She built entire worlds in her eyes. It started as a way for her to see her parents after their death. But soon, she was offering it to the boys as an escape from their brutal reality. She had crafted a power meant for destruction into something that could heal. It was an art like Madara had never seen before, or since.

It had been a long time since he had seen her eyes run red with the Sharingan. She was careful with it after seeing how quickly his sight had deteriorated from its use. She stepped closer to him, lifting his face with the gentle push of her fingers along his jaw. She pulled him in, conferring days of memories in a mere second.

"Thank you."