Time Heals All Wounds
Summary: The day Tobirama died happens earlier, during Hashirama's time as Hokage when they are at war with almost every new village but years after Madara's death. Only he didn't die. He somehow ended up in a time not his own and met a familiar face he though gone forever. Can he get back? And what of his new friend?
It was too much. He was experiencing multiple sensory overloads, the brightness of the Particle Release jutsu and the power behind it, the rush of wind and the vertigo of watching the ground run past him, the sound of a live battlefield, the feeling of the immense jutsu Hashirama or even Tobirama threw in here and there. His eyes, his ears, his sense of orientation, his senses were all overwhelmed, but he was not blind to the black being's fast approach.
He couldn't close his eyes. Panic and fear gripped him and his instincts just screamed at him to push the approaching enemy away and to repel the danger at his back as well and his arms shot out in two different directions-
"Nii-san! Nii-san, look! I made a big fireball like Nii-san does! Look, look! Did you see, Nii-san? Did you? Did you?"
Madara found himself chuckling and ruffling the younger boy's hair. He only reached a bit higher than Madara's waist. "I saw, otouto. I saw. You've done so well. I'm proud of you."
Izuna, age four, beamed at his older brother with a missing upper front tooth. Madara's heart warmed at the sight. He swore to himself that he will never let anything happen to Izuna. He had already lost their youngest brother to child hunters. He'll make sure the same fate doesn't befall Izuna.
His eyes stung as the world became red to his vision.
'Never again.'
Madara grit his teeth as two too small coffins were lowered into the ground with several bigger ones, one of which was as elaborate and ironically beautiful as those two smaller ones. Izuna was weeping in his arms, clinging to him desperately. Madara didn't mind the snot and tears that were ruining his costly formal black robes, holding him close, protective in the way he didn't allow his eyes to stop spinning their tomoe as he scanned the surroundings. Tajima looked broken on the inside, two more sons buried along with his beloved wife next to the already years deceased son that had once been his youngest, before the twins were born. Born together and killed together. Uchiha Ryukyu had done her best to protect them, but she had been too late.
Madara tensed as his father's chakra signature changed to his senses. The man was looking at him with a desperation he needed a considerate amount of time to mask. He was looking at him like he was Tajima's most precious treasure. It had a lot to do with Madara's great resemblance to his mother but it also had plenty to do with Madara's growing strength. Tajima was hoping his eldest would grow strong enough to protect both himself and Izuna.
Madara started training even harder the very next day.
Madara looked at his best friend as Hashirama spoke of a great village they had both somehow dreamed of together. Hashirama spoke of some sort of general peace for all, but Madara's dream was much simpler. All he wanted was for a way to keep Izuna safe. Nothing else mattered more. If Izuna and their cousin Hikaku could live long, happy, healthy lives, Madara would consider his life an accomplishment.
He wasn't sure Hashirama would understand such selfish wishes. He was typical Senju-blind like that.
Madara was a sensor, not the best but better than a lot of adults already and he was only twelve. He had known Hashirama was a Senju since their first meeting, the second the bowl cut haired boy had used his chakra to cross the river that day. It wasn't until Hashirama started speaking of their dream village that Madara had realized he had to be Butsuma's eldest son. The age, thirteen, fit, as did the obvious genius level skill. The Uchiha had better spies than the Senju did. Sora-Ku was their ally and cats tended to gossip with each other.
Madara thus knew, sooner or later, one day, Hashirama will be his rival and opponent on the battlefield.
He should cut their friendship short, shatter this bond between them, stop committing treason with every meeting they had at the riverside, but he couldn't. He loved Hashirama already like a brother and love was extremely dangerous for an Uchiha. He didn't want to let go.
He knew their friendship would have to end the second he sensed both Izuna and another Senju child run off in opposite directions, towards their respective Clan Compounds, no doubt to tell their respective Clan Heads.
Tajima would never raise a hand against one of his sons.
He hoped the same would be true for Senju Butsuma. For Hashirama's sake.
Madara felt the familiar prickling of his eyes that he could usually control, but his emotions were running rampant. He couldn't suppress it. His Sharingan activated in his grief at losing Hashirama as his friend, even if he had always known this was how it was going to be.
Hashirama might be able to defy his family, his clan for his dream of peace and the village they longed to built to ensure it, but Madara never could. Uchiha can never turn their backs on family.
"Tou-san, look! Nii-san's eyes!" Izuna cried excitedly when he caught a glimpse of Madara's blood red eyes. Madara so rarely used his Sharingan that most didn't even realize he had had it for years now. And those who knew, often forgot since Madara didn't need it eating up his chakra in battle. He had enormous chakra reserves, but he was young and his body couldn't take yet the usage of chakra the Sharingan would strain on him while he actively fought for every clansmen returned home from the battlefield. So he rarely used his Sharingsn unless it is utterly necessary - rarely so, but it happens.
"Oh? It looks like something good did come out of this mess," his father commented, though he might be referring to the fully matured three tomoe spinning in Madara's irises. That was new. The clarity it brought was a curse. Madara knew he would forever remember the devastated look on Hashirama's face before he turned around and left with his family.
That night, Izuna had a nightmare about his near death experience at Senju Butsuma's knife while he had been locked in his own fight against Hashirama's little brother. Madara hardened his heart against his loss of Hashirama when Izuna hesitated to come to him to soothe his nightmares away because he thought Madara was angry at him.
Madara hardened his heart so only his clan had a place in it.
Burying Tajima was surreal. Neither he nor Izuna cried, even as their Mangekyo patterns spun viciously in grief. Izuna's was new and it kept making his eyes bleed and leaving him faint from how little he was used to the new power drain. Madara has had his since the first time Izuna received a near fatal blow and had been knocked out by his rival, Senju Tobirama. Had Hikaku been a second later, a second slower, a meter further away, his last baby brother would be dead. That battle had been interesting. He had actually pulled ahead of Hashirama for once in terms of power. Izuna had been knocked out when his Mangekyo manifested. Madara had fainted only after he had been reassured that his brother would live.
Tajima's death had not been something to write stories about. He had not fell to Butsuma's sword, as many had speculated would happen. He had come down with sickness in a nasty winter and simply didn't make it to spring. He had been a fool to insist on going out to the battlefield in his sickly state. A stray kunai had done the job.
Senju Butsuma hadn't exactly had the honor of falling on Tajima's sword, either. Not that he cared.
He dreaded what the next battle against the Senju will bring.
He will have to lead his clansmen against his former best friend.
Madara's life will only fill with more grief.
Every clash with Hashirama made him doubt the man's words that he continued shouting at Madara across the battlefield. How could anyone mean what they are saying if they continue fighting with the same intent to kill as Senju Tobirama's as he fought Izuna and those two fairly hated each other?
Madara met him blow for blow because he never promised anything other than to protect Izuna and his clan.
The fighting continued for years, no matter how many times Madara had tried to convince his clan that at least an armistice would be good for them. A rest from the fighting would let them recover, get more missions so they'd get better equipment and medicine, more food. It would let them heal.
They never let up and Madara would never be the type of leader to let his clan go into battle without himself at the head of the army to take the brunt of the opposition. So he fought. He trained and got stronger and taught up new strategies to counter the never faltering Senju and he fought. He himself never faltered, being their strong Clan Head and facing everything head on. He fought and he hurt and he killed and he bled for his clan, bending and bending and bending but never breaking.
Not until the day he caught sight of Izuna's and Tobirama's battle from the corner of his eye. Not until he saw Tobirama through the fog, appearing suddenly in front of Izuna and running a sword through his chest. Not until Izuna crumbled to the ground and Madara had to hold him up.
"Madara, please! We can end this." The pleading and Izuna's wound was making his resolve falter. He wanted peace. He wanted the medical treatments Hashirama and the Senju could provide Izuna with. He wanted for his last brother to live.
"Don't, Nii-san," Izuna's voice brought his full attention back to his heavily panting brother. Every wet breath both caused relief and panic. "Don't trust their false peace treaties. Have you forgotten that these beasts are the ones who killed everyone, who killed the Uchiha? Don't be fooled. They are the enemy."
Madara took one last look at Hashirama, who was arguing with a desperate look alone, but even if he had been shouting at the top of his lungs, Madara always valued Izuna's words over anyone else's. He trusted his brother.
Besides, Izuna needed a healer.
He called for a retreat and left.
The new eyes stung.
Izuna's absence as his chakra signature finally faded, hurt far more.
Konoha looked beautiful in the fading sunlight.
He wondered if he'd ever return to see it again.
"Who is there?" Madara demanded one night, weeks after he'd left the Kyuubi's ancient temple and continued his travels. "I know there's someone there! I can sense you." Which was mostly a lie. He could sense a presence there, somewhere, rather close to him, but he could neither determine an identity or even a general direction the person could be in. That didn't change the fact that someone was there and Madara wanted them gone. He didn't feel up to dealing with people. "Just come out and face me, or are you a coward?"
"Oh? So you sensed me? That is rather impressive." A strange voice said seconds before an even stranger black person in some weird getup sprung out of a tree like one of Hashirama's damned Mouton Bunshin. The Uchiha scowled.
"What do you want?" He asked, keeping a threatening, dangerous edge to his words. He didn't trust this ... thing. Something about it felt wrong to his senses, never mind that he could just barely feel it despite knowing it was there.
"Are you Uchiha Madara?" He met that question with a condescendingly arched eyebrow, because he was unmistakable. Not with his wild, black hair out of the bun he often wore in this rainy season and with his gunbai held firmly in hand. Only a blind man would not recognize him.
"And if I am?"
The thing had a terrifying grin, no matter how friendly it was trying to appear. "My name is Zetsu and I have a way to give you back your brothers, if only you'll help me with the plan required to do it."
Usually, Madara would jump at the chance to see any of his brothers again, any of his fallen family and comrades, but spending so much time getting over the grief and getting used to living as he had without them, he could see and think with clarity. And he knew, no one, not even Hashirama, would do something like this for another person without a hidden ulterior motive of their own, would do it without gain for themselves.
Suspicion and paranoia have been his best friends since childhood. He wan't about to discard them now.
"No."
The black thing's - Zetsu's - grin vanished, obviously not having expected such a firm refusal. "I beg your pardon?"
"No," Madara repeated just as firmly s the first time he'd said it. "That's my answer. What you're suggesting is impossible or at best immoral and would only cause a war to break out again. It took years, but peace is here and my clan is safe. I will not do anything to endanger this, not for something that I know will cost me everything else." Not even for his brothers. No matter how much it pained him.
"I don't think I've made myself clear. This plan is for creating long lasting peace, I assure you."
"Then why don't I believe you," Madara shot back, grip tightening on his gunbai in preparation for a fight. "Now leave me be. I'm in no mood to deal with anyone right now. Go sell your bullshit plan to someone else."
That night, just as dawn was creeping in, a hand buried itself in his chest and bound his heart.
He couldn't control his body. He couldn't save Kurama from the same fate of being another's puppet.
He hated that he was supposed to be his puppet master.
The seal on his heart burned.
Death came as a relief even if grief at the betrayal choked him. But no matter. Hashirama in this situation was no more than a pawn, just like everything and everyone else.
His plan had to work.
Izanagi was one of the secret techniques of his clan, taught to only those who awoke and mastered the Mangekyo Sharingan. Madara had been the first one to actually learn it, as Izuna had still had some trouble here and there and he had never quite managed to master it before his death.
So Madara was the first and only Uchiha who knew about Izanagi and its reality-warping properties. To make reality and illusion and illusion a reality ... The ultimate genjutsu, some might say. Only it was so much more. It cost the user the light of their eye and Madara hated sacrificing Izuna's eye like this, but Zetsu was still out there and Madara had to get on with his plan before anyone tried to do anything with his body, be it Zetsu in an attempt to control him again, Tobirama in an attempt to study the Sharingan and everything the Uchiha was or his clan to give him a proper pyre, though he kind of doubted that last one.
He had placed a delayed Izanagi on himself and on the Kyuubi. It was only fair that Madara saved him from being sealed away and used as a weapon. He owed Kurama that much, at least. When the timer hit zero, Madara found himself waking up just as he and the biju in question were sucked through some sort of portal through space and time, the very fabric of reality shifting to accommodate them as they slipped through.
The last thing he remembered before the Izanagi locked his memories away - he needed more time, he needed to heal, to recover; grief was for when he remembered - was his body appearing in a tiny apartment and everything going out in a blaze.
00000
"Finally awake, then?" Madara's head snapped to the source of the voice in the too bright void that he had indeed just woken up in. His head was buzzing as all his memories returned, filling his mind with all that missing knowledge and every piece of the puzzle that had been lost to him deliberately so that he can be who he truly is and not a man bogged down with grief to the point it was suffocating.
What - or whom - he found as the source of the voice was both surprising and not at all.
An almost two decades older Madara was looking down at him with amusement. The younger Madara scrambled to his feet, his eyes never straying from his older self. Who only laughed at his wariness.
"Relax. I am not a trick by Zetsu. This is our mind. Only we have access here. Not even the strongest Yamanaka could penetrate this far into our consciousness."
Madara still eyed the older Uchiha warily. "I take it you're my past self?"
"I am you. I am all that you have been, all that you are and all that you'll ever be," the man replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "To put it simply, there is no 'me' and 'you', there is only 'us'. And after this is over and we return to the real world, there will only be 'I' left." Madara felt himself stiffen at that. The other him noticed. "Not to worry. The memories of your life will remain. They will just be joined with my own. It will be a complete set. You will not be erased by me. As I've said, the we will turn into I. The purpose of erasing my memories has ceased to exist. Zetsu is here. It is time to break down all limitations and restraining factors. It is time for Uchiha Madara to return in whole."
"Well, that's good. I'm not sure Tobirama would have been happy with either of us being gone forever." Then Madara blushed as he realized what his first reaction was. He sort of anticipated for the other Madara to rage at the mere mention of the younger Senju brother. Instead, he grunted in something that may be agreement. When the younger shot him a look, the adult rolled his eyes.
"What? You think I'll spend my entire existence hating the man? I have better things to do and to spend my energy on. Like getting rid of that parasitic leech Zetsu. Besides, after the overwhelming grief subsided a little, I came to the realization that the Senju bastard had done it in war while fighting for his own life. Izuna, had my little brother been given a chance, would have done the same and probably with a lot less regret later. It took me years but I've moved on past that. I just wish that idiot Senju had realized that instead of always antagonizing me. We would have been great friends, as you no doubt know. Perhaps even something more."
They both blushed at the implication of that, hiding it behind their manes of hair. "He doesn't even notice," the teen Madara grumbled.
The older one rolled his eyes. "He's typical Senju-blind like that. Don't worry, we'll make him notice." He stayed quiet for a while before speaking again. "Are you ready for this? Because you are still getting all of my memories back, you don't understand the implications and meanings behind some of them. You've done things that will have rather noticeable repercussions and results. Nothing bad, but noticeable."
"I'm not sure anyone is quite ready to merge their two very different yet very similar lives and sets of memories," Madara the younger groused more to himself than his older self. "But I guess like in all things Uchiha, I'll have to be the pioneer."
"Yes, our ancestors and fellow clansmen have indeed been rather lazy, given we were the first to learn all those things about the Mangekyo and especially the Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan. Honestly, Izuna and I were the only brothers in the history of the Uchiha to be compatible enough to do it, though Izuna was too far gone to receive my eyes." Well, that was something that will need further thought put into it, thought the current Madara wryly. He can live with that.
He held out a hand towards his older self. "I'm ready. Let's get rid of that sun of a bitch."
The older Madara huffed in amusement. "You have no idea how spot on you are with that comment."
00000
Madara felt his eyes sting, his perception sharpen just the tiniest bit and a whole different surge in his chakra pathways.
It was instinct to push with one hand away and to absorb with the other.
His chakra sang.