When Madara woke, it was much to his own surprise, he was feeling better. He no longer felt that edge. Which was a great relief to many Uchiha, since nothing good came out of Madara's hunger for war.

Hayo, the assistant the clan seniors encouraged him to take under his wing to do his menial work, had dared come and wake him. Which spoke badly about the question of his head, but well about his loyalty. Madara had let him stay because when it came to loyalty with no questions asked, Hayo was as good as it got at this point. Even if he was a little young to be at the top of the Uchiha intellectual prowess.

He would have preferred Setsuna infinitely more, but the man had duties that were actually important. None matched Izuna in wit or ability.

Hayo jauntily raised a hand, far to well rested. Deciding that he might as well get the damn meeting over with, he walked over, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Wait." Hayo nodded, standing outside the main clan building Madara resided in.

He re-entered his quarters. High collared shirt, black pants, and durable sandals; nothing fancy. He didn't have a mirror, so ran his long fingers through his hair, not thinking much about the black mane. His hair had grown wild, longer than most women's, and he refused to think too hard about it.

Nor did he bother with any of the more elaborate weapons on his stand, knowing they'd be more of a hassle than help. Strapping more than a few kunai on would be more than sufficient. No more were the days of prowling, needing to be fully armed at every moment.

That was the thought that almost derailed the morning meeting.

He nearly threw the table as his darker thoughts once again consumed him. The world as he knew- the one he loved- it was disappearing. The control he had seemed to be slipping away.

It's all lies. None of it's real.

The thought stuck with him, like a sticky mess, as he headed to the exit of his rooms. But his attention diverted as he walked through the near-complete compound, eyes lingering on the clan members already up and working. There were still a few tents but most of the Uchiha Clan were housed in real structures, the building planned to end at the end of the month.

It made him feel mildly better, seeing the few clan members bow in deference to him, and he nodded back respectfully. They seemed to still like him. Mostly. He had listened to the clan and brought them here to safety. Their fathers, husbands, and children would no longer be fodder on the battlefield.

His discontent still bubbled dangerously near. How long could he last until it all went up in flames?

There was the usual sentry at the gate, bowing deeply at Madara, giving an impudent nod to Hayo who grinned. It was his brother, Madara noted with a pang.

"Boy, don't make me wait." He said sharply, making Hayo jump and refocus on walking behind Madara.

"Sorry, Clan Leader."

"Hmph."

The boy nodded respectfully, dark ash hair falling over his pale face, not surprised at the curt correction. The kid was more handsome than the typical Uchiha youth, but his subordinate had somehow managed to surprise even him.

Hayo, for some unknown reason, was dressed in what was an absurdly nice black silk kimono embroidered with the Uchiha Crest in red and whites. He did look more like a kid in his father's nicest robes. The well-concealed tapping of his fingers didn't hide the fact that Hayo clearly was like one as well.

Madara even caught a whiff of something musky, making him raise a sarcastic brow. He shook the question away, deciding it wasn't worth the brainpower. What Hayo did usually made little sense to him.

Madara gave him something between a sneer and a resigned sigh of exasperation. Which made Hayo look relieved.

"Let's go."

"Yes, my Lord." Hayo followed as Madara exited the tall wooden gate that separated them from the city. Hayo struggled to keep up with Madara's long legs in his kimono, which Hayo knew was on purpose. Madara was giving him a different sort of punishment.

Madara knew Hayo couldn't see his smirk, but he likely could feel it.

But the smile wasn't just for his ridiculous puppy. Madara retained great pride in seeing the Uchiha crest blazed brightly on many shops and residences. It was something he lost as they wove further into a more tangled, chaotic menagerie of tents. Other clans didn't have the attention to order the Uchiha did. They were much wilder in their design, a mismatch of less powerful clans merging into The Village Hidden in the Leaves.

But still, there was a fine line, and he wondered if this continued if the Uchiha would lose the sense of themselves. He tried not to let Izuna's voice come to him.

Betrayer, brother mine. Look how the Senju have let weaklings run wild. And how you stood by and joined with them.

He focused away, turning to the brisk morning. It would soon be hot, full of people, and madness, but now the morning was his. He put his hands behind his head, and took a deep breath in, for once, letting the wind carry his guilt off for a while. There was no reason to ruin a morning like this.

The sun inched its way over Hashirama's giant wall, hitting his wild onyx hair.

Hayo looked at the steady clan leader, walking a straight course in front of him. He seemed much more relaxed, more open than Hayo had seen in months. The Clan Leader was much taller than most of the men, and quite the imposing figure, even in simple dress. He seemed to fill the empty streets with his presence. He was a man who had the charisma to lead men when he was younger- a worthy man to follow, to die for. Hayo, like many other young Uchiha men, had wanted the attention of their Lord, his praise and trust.

Which was one of the reasons he begged for this position. He still looked up to him.

He looked over Madara with red eyes, taking in the calm state of his chakra. He needed to take a risk at some point, but also would rather not be dismissed or demeaned. He wasn't sure about Madara's mood, but he would likely be more furious at any surprises Hashirama would spring on him, especially ones that Hayo already knew of.

"Lord Madara." Madara slowed his grueling pace slightly, and Hayo caught up, standing side by side. This was as clear an indication he would get to talk. Madara didn't bother to turn his head.

"There is one matter, a detail, that is likely to come up." He said with a confidence he wasn't feeling.

Madara turned, narrowed his black orbs- a bad sign.

"A detail, boy? I hope it's not important." Hayo's insides shrunk at the menacing tone. Madara's grumbles were a good indication of how this would end. So he wasn't in the mood to entertain fools, but he hadn't thrown Hayo into a building yet. Not that he regularly threw clan members outside of training, but it had happened.

"Well, it's more of -" Madara cut in, and Hayo didn't even try to imagine what sort of death was in store for him.

"Was I supposed to bring a written report? Or formal wear?" The sarcasm was noted. Hayo shook his head quickly, very embarrassed. He hadn't meant to out-do Madara. Madara didn't stand for people who outdid him, and there were only a few who lived to tell the tale. Hayo admired the Senju brothers all the more for their courage to face Madara Uchiha in battle.

"No, no, my lord, I am dressed so that, well-" Madara rolled his eyes. His thoughts were clear, that he should finally choose a second-in-command and finally get rid of this one.

"Well then, don't waste my time."

Hayo sighed at the curt voice.

"It was brought up that the attendant from the Land of Whirlpools would attend. They arrived just a few weeks ago, and-"

"Heh boy. This is trivial. We were expecting them a long time ago." Madara would throw Hayo if that was it.

"And it is likely that Lord Hashirama 's younger sister will be there," Hayo added quickly, rubbing his kimono down nervously. At least it was out.

At this, Madara decided that maybe Hayo was not quite as stupid as he previously assumed, because this was interesting information.

He stopped fists clenching.

"So, Hashirama Senju has a sister," Madara stated before looking down at Hayo, who nodded and bowed in clear deference. "A sister." He repeated.

"Yes, Clan Leader."

Madara unclenched his hand and put it to his chin, turning this new report through his head as he scoured his brain for a time. Hashirama slipped or mentioned anything. Any reports, any whispers, anything to clue him into this information.

Nothing returned. A secret that the Senju Clan itself was so tight-fisted on that before this moment, he had heard nothing about her. The image of a woman-Hashirama came to his head, a disgusting thing. Or maybe a stern-looking chit with wild white hair.

Absurd, but at this point, of little consequence.

And so Hashirama had yet another card up his sleeve. As brainless as the man tended to come off as Madara knew Hashirama was no fool. A sister so well hid that not even he knew of her? The Uchiha intel during the war had been better than the Senju's, yet he had no notion of her. A sibling hidden away from war meant that sibling was likely a poor, or heaven forbid, useless Shinobi.

Now that would be interesting. The Senju women were fierce and plentiful, unlike the Uchiha clan who didn't let their women fight, and had no reason to hide. It was certainly strange that Hashirama would produce a sibling now.

Hayo chimed in, clearly feeling a little more confident.

"I believe he wants to show you his trust."

Madara raised his chin, a mocking smile. "Any Senju woman is likely a snake to the Uchiha, even a Senju princess." Hayo must not have registered his words.

"Yes, It's an honor, he hardly introdu-" Hayo continued, but Madara was once again in his thoughts.

The annoying Uzumaki clan could be turned to his advantage. There was some talk of Hashirama being interested in taking an Uzumaki bride. Perhaps this sister could be another small chink in the political armor Tobirama Senju was so carefully vested in.

Madara, rather darkly, mused what it would be like to make Tobirama feel what losing a sibling was like before returning to his newest factional machinations.

The Land of Whirlpool's held many ties to the Senju and had been one of the first to copy the Hidden Village System. They had actually managed to gain support from several feudal lords, securing funding and trade.

He needed more information before he could plan his next move.

"So tell me about the girl. This mysterious sister. I wasn't aware there were more Senju siblings." The words he inferred were clear to Hayo, thick with disdain.

"She just arrived with the envoy from the Uzumaki clan. It's clear that she and the Uzumaki woman are close." Madara's frown deepened.

"The Senju are allied with many weak clans."

"Is her presence a problem, Lord Madara?" Hayo asked as passively as he could. Madara put his arms to his side, undoing the wrinkling of his dark shirt. The wind blew gently on his deceptively placid face.

"I suppose not. It's not a meeting that will make my blood dance, but it will have to do."

They continued in silence, weaving through the city until they reached the Senju compound at another large corner. The Senju gate guards immediately recognized Madara, looking a bit nervous. He didn't change expressions, letting them lead him to one of many meeting rooms in the large building Hashirama resided. The hallways were still dark, the sun not reaching to hit the large screen walkways.

The guard opened a door, letting them pass into a room of excellent quality. Madara narrowed his eyes in the empty room.

Snorting in disgust he sat down onto one of the formal cushions that lined the rich mahogany table, letting his long legs crossed in front of him. He very much would have liked to have kicked his feet up on the wood and taken a nap at the Senju's expense. Hayo sat next to him, taking care not to wrinkle his outfit. He checked his reflection looking into the shiny tabletop.

Quick, a male servant brought them both tea, placing Madara's first. Hayo didn't really notice when his drink was placed and forgot to thank the man. Madara raised an eyebrow, put off by Hayo's vanity. Madara never thanked servants, it is a ritual that the subordinate did. He set his tea down after the servant left.

"What are you doing boy." Hayo looked up wide-eyed from the well-waxed table to his superior. He felt sweat build at the base of his neck, knowing that he was only a few stumbles away from having his face shoved through a wall.

"Clan Leader?"

Madara breathed in slowly and put his elbows to rest flatly on the table, chin on top of his interlaced fingers. His index finger was barely touching his chin, but it was tapping ominously.

"Why did you dress up like a peacock, and why do you keep examining yourself like your face is going to change in the next ten seconds?" He said slowly, trying to control himself. Hayo went bright red looking down at his apparel.

"I… and, I just think that this sort of meeting requires a more formal-"

"I remember receiving a report that you complained for over an hour to Akinobu about wearing formal clothes for meetings," Madara growled.

Hayo stuttered, trying to not make the situation worse. Finally, as if giving up, he sighed. In a low whisper, he muttered something.

Madara narrowed his eyes. He had heard, but he wasn't going to let this slip so easily. "Heh, you're whispering like a girl. Louder." He pulled up one of his hands and put it to his forehead, feeling as if a headache was coming from Hayo's stupidity.

"I wish to impress. The Senju sister." Hayo then put his face down in shame. Madara put down his hand and turned to look full on at his younger counterpart. When he realized he was being truthful, things clicked into place.

"You're trying to impress a Senju woman?" Madara said, quite appalled.

As a handsome youth, Hayo never had any problem attracting girls from various clans. Madara snorted at Hayo's ridiculousness.

"Yes, Lord Madara."

"Would she be coming, because it was suggested by us?"

Hayo went red. "I… No sir."

"And you just… agreed. Why would you feel a girl was necessary at a diplomatic meeting?" Hayo looked up at Madara, almost like he was going to tell him something that Madara wouldn't comprehend.

"..."

Madara sneered.

"I can't wait to hear the changes that were made since I left. With men like you, I'm sure the Uchiha would gladly forfeit all of our priorities."

Hayo winced and was prepared for another one of Madara's berating speeches when the door slid open to reveal a grinning Hashirama. Behind him was a lovely red-haired woman, doubtless the Uzumaki emissary.

"Madara, my friend."

"Hashirama."

Madara noted that his mysterious sister did not accompany him, and Tobirama was late.

Hashirama looked over the room and smiled. Madara was obviously on his last nerve, and that made him feel better.

They should spar sometime soon.

He escorted Mito to a cushion, then walked to sit across Madara. He stretched out his hand. Madara took it hesitatingly and they both shook, exchanging greetings.

Hashirama was also dressed simply, comfortable in his wear.

His eyes widened when he looked over at Hayo. There was no reason for the poor boy to dress so finely. But it wasn't his concern, and he moved on.

He introduced Mito Uzumaki, and despite her polite manner, she was clearly wary of the Uchiha's. She was also more formally vested in her kimono, and Hayo Uchiha looked a little less awkward. Hashirama, being ever polite, commented on how well he looked when the door opened again.

By the time Tobirama came in, frown and all, he looked long-suffering. He took the seat next to Hayo, who looked startled. He coldly nodded towards the Uchiha party leaving the left seat across from him, who cooly returned a nod.

Hashirama remained jovial. "I'm afraid I've caused you trouble. I think my message was too early for both of us." Madara nodded slowly but gave the typical answer.

"Always too eager, Hashirama," Madara agreed, sending the elder Senju into a depression before he shook it off. "But I have news."

"Thank you, Madara. We could not do this without you." It was a genuine compliment that made both Uchiha uncomfortable.

"Of course. It's nothing for an Uchiha." He said, pushing his wild hair over his shoulder. The servant returned, bearing more steaming hot tea. The group began discussing Madara's journey.

It was as Madara had expected. His report of a stubborn Lord, Hashirama's overly optimistic assurance that all would be well, and growing irritation with how pointless it had turned out so far from the entire group. Then, the door opened. Madara turned, anticipation peaked. He looked over, to solve the curious puzzle of this Senju girl that had so charmed Hayo.

But alas, it wasn't her.

The old Uncle Senju had come, accompanied by a stab of disgust in Madara's abdomen. To his dismay, he sat next to him at the head of the table, giving a clueless, jovial pat on the Madara's back, which was returned with a sinister look.

"Off me old man." He growled.

"Don't be like that!"

Madara swore he saw a smirk on Tobirama's face.

Hashirama looked at his Uncle Hotaka, smiling at the old man's straightforwardness. He seemed to have brought more enthusiasm to the group even if tension radiated from Madara's gaze.

The old man's report was the same as his. Much to Madara's amusement, Hashirama quickly asked him what would be the best next step.

He was enjoying discussing the audacity of the Daimyo with a rapt audience, strategizing the pieces of a plan. Having control of the room pleased him. He especially was satisfied when he looked over at Hayo, who hadn't said a word, and saw him twiddling his thumbs.

No sister had graced them.

Madara turned back to answer Hashirama's questions.

"It wasn't as successful as I hoped, but I do think we managed to make him consider that the repercussions of not deciding to give us his support wouldn't be very good," Madara added a darker tone than he usually would, but he wanted Hashirama to know that he had control of this matter.

The door once again opened, and Madara didn't bother turning. He expected a refill of tea from a servant but was surprised to see the room go silent as a feminine slipper tapped the ground.

Hashirama nodded the person in.

"Sayuriama. You're late."

Ah, the sister. A test was in order- The 'Hayo' test. Was the Senju sister worth getting dressed up for? Surely not, if she was related to Hashirama.

"Hashirama." Her tone made it clear she had plenty of pride, that her brothers were indulgent to her. As a favor to Hashirama, he would teach her to know her place among the table- at the bottom.

His face turned, dusky eyes ready to teach Hayo an unsaid lesson.

.

.

He felt an instantaneous shock go through him.

It was very clear to Madara just why the brat had wanted his sister there.