Mikoto has never shirked from hard truths. She was a shinobi before she was a mother, and in truth, she has never let that part of her go. She knows that Itachi is lost to her, and has been since before Sasuke was born. His fragile mind was shattered by the last war and the Senju have dug themselves and their ideals into the cracks. No matter how she might wish it, there are some things that, once broken, can never be repaired. One must simply accept discard them and move on.
She knows too, that Sasuke will never be another Itachi. He has neither the temperament nor the inborn skill of his older brother. However, this is where his true value lies. While it takes far longer for him to learn and grow, when he does, it is not with the same glassy fragility of his older brother. His roots are stronger, more able to weather the ugliness of the ninja world. And despite how raw it is now, Mikoto can see within him a potential that far eclipses that of anyone else in the clan. So while her husband, her closest confidant, talks only about what they have lost, and how it might be salvaged or regained, she focuses on the future she sees before her. Good ninja do not dwell on the past and things they cannot change. They must focus on the future and how to attain it.
Whenever she can, she helps Sasuke with his academy work, pulling out old textbooks to show how he is learning the building blocks upon which all shinobi skills are based. Despite the demands of constant clan meetings, she tries to make time for him. She knows that he has suffered from her and his father's absence, but she tries to make sure he understands how much he means to her. She listens to his frustrations and fears and comforts him when she can. When she can't, she diverts his attention away, distracting him from his lost brother, from villagers who hate him for who his parents are, from the rejection he faces at the hands of his own father. Stone by stone, she works, building the foundation of the man she sees him one day becoming.
It is for this reason, when she feels a slight breeze on her arm and wakes up to a blank slip of paper in her hand, that she knows what she must do. She knows exactly how much she would sacrifice for the good of her family, of her clan, if asked. And this, this is nothing.
Fugaku wakes as she slips silently out of bed, but a quick word of reassurance and a ready excuse easily silence him. And Mikoto would not be half the shinobi she is if she could not leave the clan compound in which she has lived her whole life without being seen. Even so she exercises caution as she makes her way carefully out. Out of her home, out of the compound, out of the village.
The clearing, when she arrives, is as dramatic as she remembers. The trees form a wall in fierce, black silhouettes. The heart of the clearing is bathed directly in moonlight so bright it almost blinds her. And in the exact center, he is waiting. He stands several inches taller than her, though is by no means unduly large. He wears a plain black robe, the hood thrown back to reveal short dark hair and a mask that glows in the moonlight. In some ways he reminds her of Fugaku, though even in a robe, it is clear that his frame is leaner than that of her husband.
"Madara," she greets quietly, her words serving to harden her resolve. Madara, or the man who claims to be him, nods at her and she kneels before him, as she has done the two other times he summoned her.
"Report my child. Tell me what progress you have made with our clan." His voice is calm and clear, unaltered by age. Mikoto can hear within it a strength of conviction and a thirst for justice for their clan that mirrors her own. While he cannot act now, cannot be seen within the village or they will lose the element of surprise, she knows in her heart, that as long as he is on their side, they cannot lose.
And so, Mikoto tells him of the council's petty concerns. Of the ways that Fugaku compromises his beliefs and the clan's future for a taste of acceptance by the village. She explains the Hokage's plan to pacify the Uchiha through an expansion of the military police because ANBU has been stretched to breaking and there are not enough talented ninja to replace those they lose.
As she finishes, he asks her questions. Some are obviously relevant, such as if the proposed changes in the police force will alter watch schedules, and whether there are enough loyal Uchiha to handle patrol when they are ready to strike. Others are more obscure. He wants to know about the Sharingan Thief, Kakashi, about the strength of the seal on the Kyuubi jinchuuriki, and about her opinion on Itachi's loyalty to the clan. She answers all of them to her full ability. She tells him everything she knows, all the weaknesses she has observed. She tells him of the villagers' weak morale, of the higher burn out rate of ninja, of the tension between Uchiha Shisui and nearly all of the village's inner circle.
When he has finished asking his questions and she has told him all that she can think to tell him, her voice is hoarse and her knees ache from kneeling too long on the cool, damp ground. Before she can stand though, she feels him press a hand to her shoulder and bend down, whispering quietly in her ear, "You have served me well, and I promise, when the day of reckoning comes, the Uchiha and Konoha will finally get their just reward. Too long have we suffered under the unfair yoke of Senju rule. It is our right and duty to revolt, that those who come after might have a better life. Konoha has denied the Uchiha our rightful place for too long, and now, it is our duty to claim what should always have been ours. Not for ourselves, but for our sons and our daughters, that they might know what it is to walk the streets unafraid."
As she leaves the light of the clearing, she again feels the weight of her actions, the realization that allying with Madara will have consequences. Though she has little fear of them. There is nothing she won't sacrifice to give Sasuke the life he has always deserved. While Madara may have opened her eyes to the simplicity of her choice, in truth he has never said anything she didn't think herself first. She has always known that that change will not come without a bloody and violent price.
Mikoto knows she is not the only one Madara talks to. She knows that there are others within her clan that must report to him as well. After all, it is hard to stage a revolution with only one soldier at your disposal. However, she cannot help but feel that she is playing a pivotal part in all of this. That for the first time in her life, choices she makes will have true consequences. People's lives will change because of actions she has taken.
The peace in Konoha is a fragile thing, and though she has only spoken to Madara a handful of times, she has begun to see how little the pieces need to be shifted in order to bring about the end they seek. She finds herself running across the branches as she makes her way back to the village, not so much for speed, but for the desire to work off excess energy. She can feel it racing up and down her limbs, a faint tinge of electricity as she waits in the calm before the storm. Soon, the Uchiha will have their reckoning and there will be nothing that anyone can do to stop it.