.
.
"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" Hashi asks. She's holding the baby against her hip, balancing him on her forearm while their toddler tugs on her shirt. Madara scoffs.
"You treat me as if I'm incompetent. I will be fine, I assure you."
"But it's the two of them and only one of you, and-"
"Izuna will help," Madara says. Hashi purses her lips.
"Are you sure?" she says.
"If they give me trouble I'll just genjutsu them," Madara says.
"Please don't," Hashi says.
She's going to the Five Kage summit. Technically, she isn't the current hokage, but the nin of the Iwa extended their invitation to all the other living kages who were resurrected. ("Konoha isn't the only village with resurrected kages," Tsunade said.)
Now she's running around the house, checking and double-checking all the baby-related things on her list. It's only then that she straightens, satisfied, and takes a breath.
"Okay," Hashi says. She kisses Madara on the cheek and hands him their baby. "Formula's in the fridge. The bottle warmer is in the cabinet. Oh! And the toddler gets cranky when she doesn't get her nap, so make sure you put her to bed."
"I will take care of it," Madara says. He places his hand on the small bump of her stomach. "You take care of this one."
Hashi beams at him. "I'll see you in three days."
"Travel safe."
"I will."
She waves at him as she pulls her luggage out the door.
xXx
.
Madara, surprisingly, has taken well to fatherhood.
"Why are you letting her play with that?!" Hashi says, when she catches their firstborn baby daughter sucking on the handle of a kunai, mouthing it as if it were a pacifier. Madara shrugs.
"Life lessons," Madara says. "She will learn early not to touch something sharp."
Then there is the time they see people blowing bubbles in the park, which leads to Madara teaching their baby girl how to blow fire. "She is an Uchiha, she needs to learn," Madara says, which leads to them using up at least a dozen fire extinguishers and getting to know the names of all the civilian firemen.
It gets worse when the second one comes; most days, Hashi will come home and see the two of them terrorizing the other neighborhood children. "Why are there crying babies on the lawn?! And what's this about a 'baby fight club'?!"
Madara sniffs. "I spoke with the other fathers on the playground. They agree that the children are much too soft."
Truly, in Madara's estimation, Hashirama is much too fearful when it comes to their children. And now that she's pregnant again, that anxiety has only ramped up.
"How far along is she again?" Izuna says.
"Ten weeks," Madara says. "It is still early, but I don't like the idea of her traveling that far."
Izuna looks out at the partial Susanoo Madara is using as a playpen, the two kids hitting each other with blocks. "They both look like you," Izuna says. Madara smirks.
"So I've been told."
The Susanoo cage glows blue as the children cry and start hurling jutsus at each other.
xXx
.
There is nothing more terrifying than Uchiha Madara looking down on you from on high. Arms crossed, chin jutted out, with a wild mass of tangled hair, it is a sight that strikes fear in the hearts of nin from all five nations: that he also has a little baby strapped to his chest doesn't diminish the terror inspired by his presence.
"I heard you're terrorizing the parents on the playground," Hashi says. She's only a few weeks postpartum now, so playdates and other outings have fallen to Madara, who proudly drags his fire babies to the park where they wreak havoc and inspire fear in the hearts of lesser nin.
"Hmph." Madara sniffs. "Our children are superior to them. I do not see the problem."
"The eldest is throwing them around with her Rinnegan and the baby is belching fire at them!" She is talking about their middle baby, not their newest baby. Madara smirks.
"Well technically, our son is a toddler now, is he not? He is already walking," Madara says. Hashi puts her head in her hands.
The newborn is still innocent. They swaddle him up like a tiny burrito, his spiky hair already looking like a baby version of Madara's.
"Mommy, shuriken!" their baby-slash-toddler son waddles up to Hashi, holding weapons in his hand. "Mommy! Outside! Shuriken!"
"Behold. Our son wants to train," Madara says. Hashi takes the shuriken from him.
"The last time you let him 'train' he cut his hand playing with a katana."
"And you healed him. He is fine," Madara says.
"Ugh."
"You worry too much." Madara picks up the newborn, holding him to his chest and supporting the back of his neck, "This generation is soft. You've let their paranoia unduly affect you. If you remember, our upbringing was much more harsh."
They have three children now, a 5-year-old daughter, a 2-year-old son, and a newborn, and when Madara takes them to the street they follow him like a row of spiky-haired ducklings, Madara in front, the baby strapped to his chest like armor while the other two walk and toddle behind him. "They don't look anything like you," Tsunade says. She watches the parade of Uchiha walking toward the park. Hashi sighs heavily.
"I know."