Hopeless Love

by MikiFreaky

So many people had heard the legends about Madara, but few knew the truth. No one truly understood what drove him to become the terrifying figure that shook the entire Shinobi world to its core. Take a trip to the past to find out who Madara Uchiha really was. (This is a gift story I wrote for a friend who loved Heartless Angel and wanted the same type of tale for her boy Madara)

I wrote this as a gift for a friend who absolutely loved my Heartless Angel story and wished to give the same sympathetic treatment to Madara Uchiha. HOWEREVER, I know less than nothing about Madara and the Naruto universe in general. So, I did the best I could but please be kind to me. Some things are likely to be incorrect. Take it was artistic liberty or something like that. Also, there is adult content in this story, including some not so pleseant things.

Most importanyl, ENJOY!

Prologue

All she had wanted was to gather medicinal herbs. That simple wish had driven her father into the forest than she usually went and brought her into the view of the morally stunted men who were now chasing her. Twigs and leaves smacked against her as she ran as quickly as she dared through the thick woods, hands stretched in front of her to try and help her find her way. Even as she fled, though, her heart held little hope that she could get away. Ayana screamed as rough hands grabbed her by her too-large tunic, throwing her down. Her body hit the ground hard, jarring her and knocking away her wind. Before she could even attempt to stand and flee again, her assailant was on top of her, cuffing her on the head hard enough to make her ears ring. His foul breath wafted over his face as he laughed.

"Hold still, wench. This won't take long, and I'll treat you well." He sneered, grabbing the collar of her clothes and sliding it down her frail shoulder. Shuddering, Ayana tried to let her mind float free. If she just laid still and did not fight back, there was a chance she would survive. Even though her soul screamed at her to claw and kick, Ayana knew the truth. She was not a fighter. She could not escape the group of men who had captured her. Bitterness turned her stomach sour. She fought to keep breathing and not choke on her own fear and anguish.

"Oi, don't keep all the fun to yourself." Another masculine voice jeered as one of the other men joined his companion in assaulting her, grabbing her legs roughly and trying to force them apart. She tried to keep them squeezed shut, but he was stronger. Ayana felt her lungs freeze, terror and despair rising to choke her throat. What had she done to deserve this? Why was it happening to her? All she had wanted was to gather herbs to make medicine. She had just wanted to help people.

Her clothing started to ripped apart when she heard a series of whistles in the air. The men on top of her fell aside, gargled screams in their throats while the others shouted in alarm. Warm fluid splashed against her face, but she was petrified. Ayana heard the sounds of battle, limbs connecting solidly with bodies and shouts echoing around her. A heavy body fell next to her, snapping her from her paralysis. Trying to get her shaking limbs to work, she struggled to pull her clothing back into place and escape, but she couldn't find the strength to stand. Her fear and the cloyingly sweet stench of death suffocated her, staining the spring breeze with a copper scent she was afraid she would never escape from.

As quickly as it had begun, the battle ended. Silence fell, but Ayana knew she wasn't alone. Someone else was in the forest with her, standing just a few feet away. Ayana drew in a shuddering breath but did not try to stand. She could feel her savior's eyes on her, and the touch of that gaze made her body shiver. After a long moment, she heard a soft sigh and the person moved closer, dragging something heavy along behind. She stiffened up. From the voice, she guessed her savior was male. After what had just happened, she wasn't certain she could trust this unknown man.

All she could tell was that the man in front of her was dangerous. Her breath shuddered, catching in her throat when she heard another ominously soft thud, a body hitting the ground. Leaves crunched under his feet as he approached her. She could feel his eyes racing over her coldly, almost like a naked blade against her skin. It effectively froze her, every sense she possessed hyper aware of the threat looming at her side.

"Not the Senju or Hyuuga. They, at least, have class. These brigands go after women. Skinny women. How despicable." At the muttered words, Ayana stiffened. He was close, and as he drew in nearer, his focus raced across her. She felt his wariness, but also a curiosity and a strange amount of what could almost be described as gentleness. Was there a chance he wasn't going to kill her? He'd stopped the Shinobi assaulting her, after all. Those thoughts stuttered to a stop when his hand, rough with callouses from fighting and scars of war, gripped her chin tightly, lifting her head for his perusal.

"Tell me your name." The man demanded, voice still changing from that of an innocent child to a man. Ayana assumed he was close to her in age, a youth forced to mature far too soon. In his tone she could read far too much sorrow, but also the same hope she often found lurking in her own soul. Swallowing hard, she jerked her head back, but was unable to break free. He had a strong grip. No doubt her skin would sport bruises from it. She's always had exceedingly white, delicate flesh, and was easy to mark. The men who had attacked her earlier had already left their stain on her, boney arms smudged with their fingerprints and face sporting a bruise.

"Ayana. I have no last name to give or withhold. I live on the far edge of these woods. I – I am a healer, a medic of sorts." Ayana replied nervously, licking her lips anxiously. If he didn't believe her, she would die. From his actions and his words, he had to be a Shinobi. Because of the warring era they were in, if he deemed her a liar or mistook her for a clan spy, he would feel no remorse about eliminating her. Fighting fear, she kept her eyes tightly closed.

"... look at me." The man ordered, tightening his grip painfully. Ayana winced, once again tugging to get away. She wasn't sure her interrogator even noticed. His grip never relented. He was holding her immobile with just a hand in her jaw, but how? She was no fighter, true, but she also wasn't feeble. No matter how hard she tried, though, she could not break his grip. How was a mere man so strong? Drawing in a painfully sharp breath, Ayana forced her eyes open and looked towards his voice. She felt his unnatural stillness when he met her gaze.

However, unlike others, he did not turn away.

"I cannot. These eyes of mine do not see." She admitted it without shame, forcing her words out around the grip he had on her chin. Ayana had been abandoned by her parents as a baby to be raised on the mercy of others. Even then, she had barely survived, often driven out so that struggling bands did not have another mouth to feed. She was blind, but not ashamed. In the age of war and power, Shinobi and clans, she was still alive. In their eyes, she was not someone to value. But Ayana knew she was. It took more courage and ability to save a life than to take it. She lived with that knowledge every day, secure in her worth and strength.

"A blind medic? That's… a little strange." The man admitted, releasing her and stepping away. She felt his laugher in his tone, but ignored it. She was used to such behavior from the people she met. It was why she tried to stay away and alone. At least it was better than derision and hate. This Shinobi was being kind to her. Sort of. Ayana rubbed her chin, frowning. Why was he not killing her? Most Shinobi she met, unless they were on the verge of death and needing her skills, were not so merciful. Was this boy different?

"No stranger than a man who kills all in his path." Ayana challenged him, unable to stop herself. She felt his flinch, and froze. Had she hit a nerve? It would be best to not anger him, but she sometimes had trouble keeping her mouth shut.

Shakily, Ayana rose to her feet and dusted her damaged clothing off. She straightened the asymmetrical off-the-shoulder over tunic as best she could, hoping the dead men hadn't ripped it beyond her ability to repair. She wasn't the best seamstress. While she was capable of doing almost anything a sighted person could, Ayana could not sew well. Most of her clothing had belonged to others and been given to her out of pity. She had badly modified them to fit her bonier frame, but she couldn't fix them if they became too tattered.

"The adults think that way. I'd stop fighting if I could, but even then… how do we make others listen to us? We are just tools to further bonuses for the clan's glory." The words were whispered, but Ayana's ears were sensitive. She heard them. Her hands stilled. He was unlike any Shinobi she had ever meet before. He saved her from assault, and then admitted to her that the battles he fought… were useless? Ayana didn't need eyes to see that before her stood someone rare and special. Inside him burned a fierce fire, a will to protect and survive. It was pure and fathomless. If utilized correctly, perhaps the man in front of her would be able to change the course of disaster with his power alone.

If he could end the battles, then people like her would no longer have to live in fear anymore. Ayana clenched her fist. She would help him.

"Your arm is cut and bleeding, and you've burned your right hand." She declared, breath whooshing out of her when that burning focus washed over her again. The man stepped closer, the fire of his presence making her shudder. He was so potent with life energy that he overpowered her senses just by being near. If he had this much power now, she trembled to think what he would become in the future.

"... How do you know?" The man snapped, unease washing through the air to breath on her skin. It must be tiring, to be a Shinobi. Constantly on alert and keeping all thoughts inside, triple guessing ever word and motivation of any person around. It was not a life Ayana would enjoy.

"It's true my eyes cannot see, but I do not need to. I can sense living energy. My ability is stronger when I am touching what I am trying to read. When you grabbed me just now, I learned of your wounds. It is how I know how and what to heal." She declared simply, but with pride. It had taken her years to fully realize her sixth sense, but she now had it honed to such a point that, unless she opened her eyes or told them, most people were unaware she was blind.

Ayana was skilled and she would let no man disparage that. Not that her savior had, but she felt his disbelief and suspicion against her skin. He leapt away from her. Ayana suppressed a sigh. Here they go again.

"A sensory type? So, you are a Shinobi." Ayana felt him shifting his stance as he spoke. His instant belief that she was trying to deceive him showed Ayana exactly what kind of life her savior had led. It must have been one filled with deceit and lies. With how easily he murdered the adults who had chased her, she felt safe assuming he was also extremely powerful. Based on what she knew of the clan, he must be forced into battle frequently. Based on skill alone, he had to be highly ranked, but he probably wasn't old enough or strong enough to yet disobey those who forced him into war. She felt sorry for him.

"I am not. One does not need to be a Shinobi to sense the life inside all living beings. It is up to you to decide if you believe me or not, but all I am saying is truth." She stated, waiting. If he decided she was lying, there would be no way she could escape him. While she could use her senses to traverse the forest, she had already proven that she was incapable of escaping a pursuer. Based on the dull ache in her jaw, she also knew she wouldn't be able to fight him off. He was stronger than her, and trained to use that raw power. She was not a fighter at all. There was no way she would be able to defeat him. It would be laughable to even try.

After a long silence, the man sighed and relaxed his stance. "There's nothing to be gained by killing a skinny blind medic. You, just, go on your way. Stay out of the forest if you know what's good for you. It's dangerous here." He snapped, starting to walk away. She blinked, a little shocked. She had full expected him to kill her as mercilessly as he had the ones who chased her earlier, but apparently, she'd read him right. There was still mercy and compassion within him. Unlike the other Shinobi, he knew of kindness. He had decided to view her as a medic instead of a threat.

He had saved her life from the men attacking her, and he was letting her live. She did not know how the clans worked, but surely they did not like their members leaving witnesses behind? Even a blind one. Yet, he was letting her go. Her heart warmed. Her rescuer still understood empathy. She needed to find some way to thank him, and she only had one skill. Ayana took a step in his direction, but froze instantly when cold metal touched her throat. If she made him feel threatened, the well sharpened blade would slice through her skin

"Don't walk behind me!" The shouted words carried enough menace that goosebumps chased across her skin. He was deadly, probably more a threat to her than the men now lying murdered on the forest floor had been. Because of his kind nature and generosity, Ayana had briefly forgotten who she was dealing with. Swallowing hard, she slowly backed away, keeping her hands visible and still in front of her. The blade was pulled away reluctantly, the memory of cold death against her throat making her hands clammy.

"I can treat your wounds." She made the offer again, driven by instinct to try and help him. As a healer, she just couldn't turn her back on anyone who was injured in front of her. When he looked back at her, she felt his derision against her skin. Ayana wanted to flee from there, to leave the death and violence behind. But, when she first began healing, she swore she would offer aid to anyone, no matter their station or situation. She would not turn her back on that vow now. Plus, she did owe the man her life.

"I can take care of it myself. Just leave already." He snapped the words at her, clearly loosing patients with her. His manner was awkward and uncertain. Ayana bit back a giggle. Her savior was socially stunted, it seemed. Well, so was she. She wouldn't judge him harshly for that.

Nodding her head, Ayana back away from him and shifted down to her knees. She carefully started sweeping her hands over the area where she had been pulled down to the ground by her assailants. Even when they'd chased her, she'd managed to keep a hold of her herb basket. It was filled to the brink with freshly cut and tied medicinal plants. Since she had risked her life for them, she wasn't going to leave them behind.

"... left."

Hearing him, she paused, tilting her head to the side. Obediently, she moved her hands left. A smile broke out across her face when her questing fingers bumped into the familiar wooden body of her herb basket. Grabbing the handle and standing, Ayana bowed to her mysterious rescuer and walked away.

"I thank you. Safe travels, kind Shinobi." Whispering the words over her shoulder, Ayana headed deeper into the woods. She could feel his stare boring into her back the entire way, but she never once turned back.

Chapter One

"I'm beginning to think I should stop traveling so far for herbs." Ayana muttered as she picked her way delicately through the slain bodies littering the forest floor, long dress skirt held up in one hand so it didn't drag in the mud and the blood staining the ground. Her adventure out to gather more materials for making poultices and salves had rapidly devolved into a horrendous game of running and hiding. She'd managed to land herself in the middle of a horrendous war between men and women intent on slaughtering each other.

For days she had used her energy senses to avoid the battles, only now feeling safe enough to try to venture home. Pockets of conflict were still clashing within the forest, so she had tried skirting the far edge to avoid them. Only her horrendous luck would allow her to run into the remnants of another battle. This time, though, it was one that had already reached its bloody and inevitable conclusion.

The corpses blanketing the ground were a few days old at most. Ayana heard flies buzzing in the air, attracted to the decaying flesh, but not many. They had not yet started laying in the corpses. Ayana grimaced at her thoughts. What life was she leading that she had learned the sounds of death well enough to tell time by them? The smell of copper and rot in the air was choking, but she pressed onward.

As she picked her way through the field of death, Ayana felt a prickle along her skin that made her freeze mid-step. Fire and heat swept over her and her lungs froze. She knew that energy, had thought of it often since she first encountered it. Though it had been a few years since she'd been rescued by the mystery man, she recognized his fury-filled energy and potent gaze even from a distance. Lifting her head, she turned her sightless eyes towards a large tree that was growing on the edge of the clearing. He was sitting against the solid trunk, watching her.

She forced herself to keep moving towards him.

"We meet again, bony medic. How trite." Gone from his voice were the remnants of youth. Now, Ayana only hear a man. His voice was deep and dark, with a dangerously smooth baritone flavor. Not an ounce of uncontrolled emotion bled into his tones, and the indifference she felt inside him was almost soul deep. The kindness he had shown her before by saving her life and sparing her seemed beyond him now. His generosity and empathy were buried. In front of her now sat a warrior, a killer like all the other Shinobi she knew. Ayana's heart wept. What had happened to make him harden him change so much? Where had the hopeful youth gone?

"Indeed," She answered instead of asking, coming to a stop in front of where the man rested against the tree, "but I needed no rescue this time."

A dry chuckle followed her softly spoken words, making her shiver. Just his voice alone was powerful and hypnotic. He possessed potent, animalistic magnetism. She felt drawn to him like a moth was drawn to a flame. He was power and strength, a lure she was finding hard to resist. His gaze made her knees weak, the absolute focus when he stared at her causing her heart to flutter wildly in her chest. Why was she so attracted to him? Ayana was no fool. Getting closer to this man would only cause her pain, she read it in his power which cloaked him like a second skin. And yet, she stayed where she was.

"I see, though I have to wonder at the intelligence of a small woman walking boldly into a war zone like this. I thought I told you to leave the forest?" He shot back, slowly climbing to his feet. She sensed his body step closer, until she almost tasted the heat radiating from his skin. He had grown in the years they had been apart. Whereas before they had been almost equal in height, he was now taller than her, stronger and more filled out. Her savior had become a man. He used his height to crowd her. Dominance coated him like a second skin, the arrogant bluster of his youth grown stronger until his very demeanor was authority and domination all in one. It appeared to be an unconscious action on his part. How many people had he dominated merely by standing next to them? Ayana kept her chin held high, refusing to lower it even a little. She wouldn't challenge him, but…

She would not cower to his arrogance, either.

"You are not my keeper, nor I a child to be ordered about. I chose to live in this land and so I shall go where I please." She declared, directing her sightless eyes towards him. His power had grown from when they last met, just as she had thought it would.

The energy whirling inside him was turbulent and restless, but he controlled it flawlessly. He didn't seem to be aware of how much power he had. Or, perhaps he did. That would explain where the arrogance came from. Anyone with that much strength was bound to be a little full of themselves. But thanks to his power, she was able to see clearly that he was fine. The energy flowing through his body was normal. The relief she felt knowing he was uninjured sent her mind reeling. She was so confused. Why did she care about him? They had not met more than once, years ago.

"Why are you here?" He demanded, grabbing her chin again. Instead of scarred skin, she felt warmed leathered against her jaw, the supple animal flesh thin enough to leave his nimble hands unhindered. With his skin covered, she was unable to read him at a deeper level. Only his riotous energy allowed her to see him at all. When had he started wearing gloves? Was it because of her, and what she had said about seeing with energy? Most likely not. She wasn't that conceited.

Ayana shrugged instead of trying to find out. He probably wasn't interested in the answer to his question, anyway. The male in front of her now made her cautious. He wasn't the curious and awkward boy of her memory. Now, she was dealing with a dangerous Shinobi who was ruthless and skilled at battle. She remembered how quickly he had dispatched the men assaulting her in their youth. The field of death she'd crossed to reach him flashed into her mind.

"What happened?" She asked instead, gesturing behind her. The loss of life was not something she was comfortable with, but maybe if she understood why it would be easier to accept. He took his eyes off her, turning his attention to the massacre he'd left behind. Ayana's breathing ease a little as his energy eased. The fire lifting from her lungs. The grip he had on her face remained strong, though.

"They tried to kill me, so I killed them first." His simple words were filled with resignation. Despite that, she could also feel some pride inside him at his victory. Ayana would never understand the reason all the clans were constantly warring and battling. People were dying, and yet… She closed her eyes, trying to block out the sense of decay and murder that filled the air. He was proud of it. The truth of that made her soul ache even more for him. He had hated the useless battles in his youth, but how his acceptance of them was bone-deep. The perpetual cycle of hatred was being continued.

"I heal. You kill. You and I are on opposite sides, ideologically." She muttered sadly.

"You dare speak of ideals, and judge me? You heal to protect. I kill to protect. Our ideals are the same, medic. It's just our means to achieve it differ. It is this same desire to protect what is precious that is causing all the strife we fight through now." He responded, shifting his attention back to her. He turned her chin up sharply so he could study her face. He leaned closer until she felt his breath fanning across her skin. For some reason, she felt like he was peering into her eyes intently. What was he trying to discover there? He already knew that she couldn't see anything.

Ayana reached up and tried to pull his hand away. Her fingers wrapped around his thick wrist, feeling the soft leather under her palms. Her futile tugging did not make him budge at all. His presence was overwhelming her, wrapping her inside his chaotic energy and heated strength. She also felt the pain he hid in his core, though his voice revealed none of it. Why was he in turmoil inside? What had happened to cause him to change so much? Ayana wanted to weep for him. She knew he never would.

She needed him to let her go. Her senses were being destroyed by his nearness. Might wasn't going to work with him, though. He was the kind of man who would respond to physical strength with more force. Ayana decided to adopt a more passive tactic.

"Very well, I understand." She breathed, closing her sightless eyes to try and block him out, not that it would do anything. Her eyes weren't what was seeing it all.

He released his grip and stepped away, finally allowing her to breath. She immediately scrambled a few steps back, gulping in air and trying to clear his pain from her mind. The man watched her closely, stepping over the bodies on the ground to remain close to her. Even though he was no longer touching her, she could still feel the sorrow that breathed inside him. It called to the healer side of her nature.

Rubbing her sore jaw with one hand, Ayana hesitantly reached for him. He knocked her seeking fingers aside before she could touch him. Withdrawing into herself, she sighed. She wanted to ease the pain in him, but she doubted he would let anyone in enough to try, especially her. He was determined to ignore his turmoil and present only confidence to everyone. Why couldn't he understand that admitting he felt emotions was not weakness, but a strength? By denying his pain and hiding his fears, Ayana was afraid he would eventually make a choice that would haunt him for a lifetime. Fear only lead to more sorrow and hatred, to trying to hurt others to stop the pain inside. How could she make him see that?

While they stood staring at one another, Ayana felt a strong life approaching from the forest. The man looked towards the trees, stiffening momentarily before sighing deeply. He stepped away from her, never turning his back, but creating distance. Before she could ask what he was doing, the energy approaching them flared to life and came speeding their way. From the vivaciousness and velocity, Ayana guessed the person was likely another Shinobi.

"Brother! You destroyed this entire group by yourself? As expected of you." A youthful, masculine voice preceded an exuberant younger man jumping into the forest clearing. His energy was similar to Ayana's mystery warrior's, but not quite as raw or deep. His youthful arrogance and adoration were as clear to her mind as if she had seen them on his face. She felt the newcomer's eyes on her curiously as he walked to them. Ayana winced as he stepped on the dead bodies littering the forest floor, treating them like they weren't even there. The disrespect set her teeth on edge, but she was too frightened to speak up. His power wasn't as potent as her savior's, but he was still dangerous.

"Izuna, why aren't you with the others?" Ayana felt the censure in the older male's words, but Izuna snorted derisively and brushed them off. He didn't seem intimidated of the other man at all. Wait. Ayana's body froze. He'd called her savior 'brother' when he first appeared. This Izuna was the man's brother?

Ayana's tension eased as the two men drew close. The energy inside both of them mellowed and warmed. The harsh edges softened, the coldness cloaked her savior vanishing at the rush of affection his little brother directed his way. Her lips curved up into a smile. There was deep love between the two. All the gentle kindness and generosity she recalled from before burst back into his energy, once more revealing the special Shinobi of her youth to her. He didn't need her to heal him, after all. Just by standing next to his brother, she saw the fear and pain inside him easing. She was willing to bet the reason he killed to protect was standing right next to him.

"Because I would rather be with you. Who is this ugly woman, Brother? A kunoichi to be tortured for information about their movements?" Izuna's eager tone made Ayana's ease fly away. Her entire body stiffened and she stepped away from the brothers. Surely, they wouldn't torture her… would they? Her heart stuttered in her chest at the thought. She wouldn't survive if they decided to.

"She's no concern of yours. Report back to the others and wait for me. I'll return shortly." At the elder brother's words, Izuna snapped into motion, nodding his head before sprinting off at an incredibly fast pace. She felt the air stir as he jumped by her, staring at her curiously. Alone with the warrior once more, Ayana tried to make herself relax. He hadn't made any indication that he was going to harm her before, but maybe she was being naïve. She didn't know him at all, and he had killed ruthlessly and brutally both times she'd bet him. It would be no more than she deserved if he murdered her now.

"I won't hurt you unless you want me to." He purred in a low voice, suddenly right next to her ear. Shrieking, Ayana instinctively shoved him back and fell away. She tripped over the hem of her dress and went down, sprawling on the ground on her bottom. Flushing, she curled her legs underneath herself and pulled the green fabric over her toes, hiding her legs and body beneath the roomy clothes. She could feel her face and neck burning.

"You pushed me? Men have run from me in fear, and yet you dare to push me?" He spoke incredulously from above her head. Ayana clenched her hands in her lap, head snapping up. She was going to get herself killed one day running her mouth, but he had earned it this time. What the hell had he expected her to do when he snuck up on a blind woman and spoke in her ear? And how had he managed to do that to her?

"I have no idea who you are, other than a man I've run into in the forest twice now. How is that to make me fear you? And any woman would push away a man who came too close to her. It's called personal space." She snarled, pressing her lips together and sniffing. Honestly, no matter how high an opinion he had of himself, there was no excuse for invading her personal space.

After a long moment, she heard him chuckle. "Right, I never gave you my name. I'm... Madara Uchiha." He hesitated, but then he finally spoke his name to her. From the way he said it and watched her, he was expecting some kinda of reaction. But Ayana lived alone, far from any clans or people. For her, it was a rare day when she saw someone other than a patient. The news and rumors of the world did not reach her often, and was frequently out of date by the time she heard it. Nor did she try to follow the movements of the powerful clans clashing in her lands. She did not even know many clan names, for she wanted to be impartial on her medical treatments.

In short, Ayana had no clue who he was.

When she didn't start screaming or react at all, Madara actually laughed. The sound was rich and seductive. She wanted to hear it more, and almost asked him why he hadn't laughed before. Ayana bit her lip to keep from saying something she might regret. Holding her body stiffly, she kept her chin high and haughty. His low chuckle made her happy, but it also put her on edge. She liked the way it made her feel, and that made her uneasy.

"If you're just going to laugh at me, I'm leaving." She declared, turning her back on him and storming away. Before she was able to walk very far, he snagged her thin wrist easily in his larger hand and pulled her back.

"Wait. You were born blind, correct?" Madara's question caught Ayana off guard. She didn't even think of fighting his grip, too startled by the unsuspected query. Her brows furrowed and she pursed her lips.

"Yes, I told you I was. What does that matter?" She shoved her long curls away from her face with her free hand, turning her face in his direction. His gaze skittered over her, once again boring into her eyes intently. What was with his fixation with them? Ayana knew her gaze was an unusual color. Patients told her all the time that her fractured amethyst irises were unnerving, with the white pupil and the multifaceted violet striations surrounding it. But surely that was not what had caught Madara's interest.

She felt his hesitance before he spoke, "Is it possible for you to teach someone to see as you do, sensing chakra?"

Chakra was what the Shinobi called the life energy inside all things. Since they trained themselves in it, Ayana knew they were able to manipulate even the power of non-living things like wood and fire, water and wind. Some of her patients were wounded Shinobi, and they always told grandiose tales of what they could do. The yarn spun about one of the two strongest clans in the land she lived in made her snort. Who would believe that a clan of people with eyes capable of seeing through chakra could exist? If it were true, such a people would have no doubt fought their way to bloody glory long ago.

For her, though, she was limited to using her chakra sense to perceiving living things. She could see trees as long as they were not dead. It was the same with plants. Since Ayana made a living working with herbs, she had developed her fauna sense to the point that she knew what kind of energy each type of medicinal herb had. Animals and people were easy for her to locate, as well. Water she could not see, but her other senses made up for that lack, and the wind her ears could hear the slightest sound from.

She'd never tried to teach anyone to see the way she did, though. Most thought her handicapped and useless, so why would they bother asking her for guidance? That Madara didn't think so made her chest swell with gratitude, but also questions. Why was he asking? And… would she even be able to do as he requested?

Blindness was a handicap, but it had taught her to adapt to the world using her other senses. That extra sensory perception was what had lead her to develop her chakra sensing powers. Those who had their eyes relied on them heavily. They would not have the same pool of knowledge and experience to pull from in order to learn her way of sight. To teach someone to see her way would be to go against their natural instincts, which people have a hard time doing. If anything, it would be even worse for a Shinobi. They honed their instincts to the point that they were automatic. To ask one to ignore that vital nature would be debilitating.

Biting her lip, Ayana shook her head. "It is impossible, I'm afraid. It goes against Shinobi nature to rely on – " Before she could finish her denial, Madara cut her off, grip tightening on her arm.

"Do not tell me what I can do. I will decide that. I am already aware of how chakra sensing works. I want to know how you see. It is different from what I know." Madara's grip on her arm continuing to tighten until Ayana winced. He was so strong. In truth, he probably didn't notice how tightly he was holding her. To her utter amazement, he let go. She tilted her head to the side and stared in his direction. Why had he released her?

"It will take time, but we can try. Why do you want to know? Is there something wrong with your eyes?" Ayana asked, only able to think of that as a reason for his demand. He'd already admitted to be asking for himself. Had he sustained some sort of damage to his eyes, something so minute that she was unable to sense it? At her query, Madara stiffened and moved away from her, creating distance. His anger and a little bite of fear snapped along her senses like static electricity.

"That is no concern of yours. You will teach me, that is all." He brushed her inquiry aside, clearly wanting her to drop the subject. Ayana was willing to let it go for now, but she was going to figure it out eventually. She was nothing if not tenacious.

Lifting a finger, Ayana smiled. "I will have to touch you to teach you." She stated archly, holding her breath when his gaze locked onto her again. Would he be able to tell she was lying? Shinobi were trained to sense when people were being false, but perhaps her blindness would give her some advantage.

"…" He didn't speak, but she could feel his ire against her skin. He had clearly expected her to meekly nod her head and acquiesce to his demand. Madara had yet to realize that while she was peaceful, she wasn't a push over. In order to survive, she never tried to challenge people, especially those stronger than her. But she was not weak, and never would be. He would eventually learn that about her, especially if she were to become his teacher. Ayana kept her silence and waited. She was not going to push it. If he decided her aid wasn't worth a fair trade, then that would be the end of it. He let out a sigh and scratched his head.

"Is that necessary?" He groused, voice pinched. Ayana nodded, swallowing hard. Clearing her throat, she walked towards him, lifting her hand up to where she thought his face would be. She stopped her hand before she touched his skin, though.

"I'm going to be teaching you, Madara. You're going to have to trust me a little," Ayana cajoled, tilting her head with a grin, "and let me touch you." It was a gamble, but she had to take it. Madara seemed to dislike casual touch, but she wanted to be able to feel him against her skin again. If he trusted her and dropped his guard, Ayana would be able to become closer to him. To the true Madara. Maybe there she would be able to find the gentle, kind heart that had first drawn her to him in their youth. The innocent boy he was had to be hiding inside him somewhere.

"I don't trust you." He growled, shoving her back. Ayana stumbled, but managed to keep her balance. Biting her lip, she crossed her arms defensively in front of herself and stepped back. His rebuke hurt. It shouldn't, but she cared about what he thought of her. It wasn't logical at all. He didn't know her at all, and was a Shinobi to boot. She was an unknown and possibly dangerous woman. She might have been plotting or trying to spy, or a billion other terrible things the clan had likely drilled into his body. So, his reaction was expected, normal, even.

"I understand." Ayana whispered, voice thick with disappointment. She bowed her head to him briefly, then turned and started to walk off.

Before she could move, though, his hand snagged her by the shoulder and dragged her back to him. Startled, she tried to jerk away. Without seeming to notice her resistance, Madara grabbed her elbow and pulled her alone after him, leaving the battlefield behind. She stumbled, unable to see her environment with him touching her. She couldn't focus enough to see. Half dragging, half supporting her, Madara walked deeper into the forest. His steps were assured and certain. The man obviously had a destination in mind. She just wished he would share that information with her. Ayana did not like feeling like a horse. She felt her lips twist into a pout, but tried to keep up.

After walking through the woods until the stench of death was gone, Madara let go of Ayana and stepped away. Her body missed the heat of his chakra, but she tried to mask the sense of loss she felt at his withdrawal. She tentatively stretched her senses out around her. She was near a shallow river, fresh air making her long curls dance around her shoulders. The area was densely forested with healthy trees, each one vibrant emerald splashes of life against her mind. She hadn't been this far into the forest before, but she felt safe. Maybe it was because the most dangerous creature in the woods was standing at her side.

"It's safe here. Now, teach." He ordered, walking around behind Ayana. Her body stiffened. She didn't have a blind spot, per se, but it still made her uncomfortable. What had changed his mind, anyway? He'd already admitted to not trusting her. Yet, he still wanted her to teach him?

"Teach!" She let out a sigh at his demand. How arrogant. Settling herself down on the rocky shore of the river, she tucked her long legs underneath her body and clasped her hands in her lap. Nothing she could do about his autocratic attitude, but she could overlook it. He had to have a reason for expecting everyone to jump when he snapped his fingers. Given his power, and what she knew of clans, Madara was likely in a high-rank position within his.

He had power and ability to control chakra. That was what was valued above all else inside the clans. It did not matter that Madara was soaked in self-doubt and insecurity. Because he could forcibly deny his emotions and present a powerful front, he was admired. It was wrong, but it was all he knew. Ayana felt her heart breaking for him all over again at the thought. His gifts were hurting him.

In all actuality, his skill with energy sensing was probably better than hers. She had no doubt he could control the elements of the world and command power such as she would never imagine with ease. Given their obvious differences in skill, how would she be able to instruct him? Ayana lifted her hand up and held it out, palm facing the warmth of the sun.

"Give me your hand." She demanded, deciding to just go for it. Madara didn't move from his position behind her. She heard him cross his arms, irritation filling the air between them. She sighed and dropped her arm back down, shoulders slumping.

"You're making this difficult." She groused, mouthing pulling into an irritated pout.

"Living is difficult in these times, medic. Now, teach. Show me how you see." He stepped closer as he spoke. Ayana shook her head.

"Without touching you, I cannot." She lied again, surprised at how easy it was for her to tell the fib. Madara had admitted to being able to sense chakra earlier, so if she just described what to do to him, he might be able to understand it. But then it would be over. Ayana wanted to stay with him for a while. She did not understand it at all. She was frightened of the cruel edge inside Madara now. He was being eaten by the darkness of his heart. But at the same time, she longed to stay near him because he made her feel safe.

"I have heard it said before that where there is a will, there is a way." He quipped back. Ayana giggled, covering her mouth. A Shinobi spouting child-like wisdom? It was hilarious, especially considering how serious he seemed now.

"All good things come to those who wait and do what their teacher asks." Ayana snapped back, gratified to hear a low chuckle rumble out of Madara's chest.

He sat next to her on the rocky shore of the river. "I'm certain that is not how it goes."

"It's a variant version." She lifted her chin and sniffed, trying to keep the smile off her face. Her lips twitched and cheeks hurt from the effort to hold her mirth in. It was fun to trade barbs with him. Madara sighed and shook his head.

"Of course, it is. Are we finished dancing around the matter here?"

Ayana widened her eyes as much as she could. "Is that what we were doing? Dancing?" She pitched her voice high and nubile, just to annoy him. Seems like she succeeded. He leaned forward and grabbed her chin, giving her a warning squeeze.

"No more games. Teach." He ordered lowly. His patience had run out, apparently. Ayana knocked his hand aside and straightened her spine. She would try to instruct him, but she wanted to spend time just being silly together, too. She decided to not question her instincts. They usually served her well, so she would just trust them.

"Right. You'll need to close your eyes and just… listen. Feel. Clear all else from your mind." She attempted to explain, but before she could get further, she was interrupted.

"Like meditation." Madara stated it as a fact, not a question. She sighed and shook her head.

"No, not like meditation. You don't want to be completely blank, because then you won't see anything. Eventually, you'll be able to naturally utilize this state of mind to see passively while you're doing other things. No meditative state required." She expounded, pulling her long hair around over her shoulder to play with while she spoke. It was a nervous habit she hated, but she'd never been able to break it.

"Show me."

Stifling her irritation, Ayana let her senses spread out. She normally kept them focused and controlled, so that she wasn't overwhelmed, but now she needed him to really understand what she meant. It all came rushing in at her, the power of his body and exactly how close he was standing, the bugs crawling on the rocks near the shore, birds and trees, everything. She could see everything inside her mind, like a colored map of images. Each living thing had its own color and she could taste the wind, feel the earth. It had overwhelmed her when she first discovered it, but now her mind easily filtered the overflowing life around her into manageable chunks. Except for the man standing at her side. He was still overpowering.

"There are four birds on the opposite shore of the river." She whispered, slowly allowing her chakra to absorb back into her, limiting her view to right around her. Drawing in a ragged breath, she tried to relax tense muscles. Pushing herself to see beyond her average range always caused her some pain, but she could manage.

"Hmm. By sending out controlled amounts of Chakra into the air around you, you've given yourself the ability to identify any living thing inside that field. Effective, if not very efficient." Madara mused, walking around to her front again. Miffed that he called her sight inefficient, she stuck her foot out and tried to trip him. The Shinobi leapt over her leg like it wasn't even there, only the glare he fired her way letting her know she'd bothered him. It wasn't smart, but she did enjoy pushing him. Smiling, she settled down with her hands sedately in her lap.

"Maybe not, but it's a passive ability. I normally don't stretch it out that far. I keep my field of vision in the immediate area around me, and use my hearing and sense of touch for long range or detailed sight," Ayana explained, lifting her face to the sun, "It might not be precise, but I can sense anything within my range. No matter how small, or how fast. Like the butterflies and hummingbirds up there."

"Now that is useful. When you are passively sensing, I cannot sense your chakra. Do you suppress it?" He settled himself down on the ground across from her. Smiling, Ayana shook her head. She had a feeling he was going to be a difficult student, but she was going to enjoy every minute of it.

Chapter Two

"So, this is where Brother has been sneaking off to." Izuna didn't announce himself, jumping down from the trees to where Ayana sat on the shore of the river washing her clothes. She'd taken a liking to the river spot Madara had brought her to months ago. She often found herself stopping by even if she wasn't meeting her unruly student for lessons. The cool water soothed her, and it was an area safe from the battles that often engulfed the rest of the forest. She liked the peace, although it had been shatter by Izuna. Shrieking, she fell back and tried to scramble away, heart racing in her throat. The younger Uchiha laughed at her, making no move to help her out. He settled down uninvited at the shore, way too close for comfort.

"… it was Izuna, was it not? Why are you here? Madara isn't coming today." Ayana started folding her washed clothes, lifting her eyes to his face.

"Whoa, you're blind? That's creepy. And worthless." He snapped, trying to hide how she'd unnerved him with bluster. Ayana just shook her head. Was her gaze truly so terrifying?

"Answer me, please. Madara is not coming, so why –" The man at her side chuckled and sneered at her, cutting in before she could finish her question.

"I know he isn't; Brother is leading the fight against the Senju today. Normally, I'd be there, but I was injured in the last clash, so he ordered me to stay behind today. I figured I'd come out here and see why Brother was going to the river again. Last time this happened, he was meeting with the enemy. I intend to make certain he isn't doing that again." Izuna kept smiling gamely, even as he was blatantly threatening her. This man was not like Madara, she could tell that just from his words and manners.

Ayana snatched more clothing from the river, getting up on her knees to wring the fabric out. "You don't need to worry yourself. I am aligned to no clan." She snapped, venting her frustrations on her outfit. Izuna leaned back, staring up at the sky.

"People lie, all the time. My brother is no fool, nor is he weak, but he's different from me and the others in the Uchiha clan. The fighting saddens him, and he wants it to end. Clan honor doesn't really interest him. He only keeps fighting to protect me. As such, I fear he will be easy to manipulate by someone crafty and evil enough to take advantage of his strength and kindness." Izuna informed her, reaching out and grabbing her boney wrist. Ayana shuddered at his touch, information flooding into her from his skin.

She felt his uncontrollable admiration and love for his older brother, and the pain he felt at the life Madara was forced to lead. The younger Uchiha knew that while Madara's strength and power was needed to keep the clan alive, it hurt him to have to utilize it against someone he knew. But, she also saw that Izuna would do anything to keep his brother in the head position. Inside Izuna burned a fierce fire and pride in his clan, a drive to make the Uchiha the most feared and powerful in all the Land of Fire. Madara was necessary for that to happen. Ayana could tell that Izuna was an Uchiha who believed that his clan was the best and most important, someone who put his people before all others. But, he was loyal to those he chose to love. Izuna would do anything for any member of his clan whom he held dear, and he expected they do the same for him. She didn't think he was a bad person, just one who was a product of the times they lived in.

Wincing, Ayana pulled away from him. "I know that. What do you want from me, Izuna?" She inquired, shoving the damp fabric into her basket and scrambling to her feet. He rose up next to her, lazily stretching.

"Brother seems to enjoy your company, and I haven't noticed any suspicious activity on your part. Just remember that I am keeping my eyes on you. That's never a good thing to hear from an Uchiha. It's too bad you're blind; the Sharingan is basically useless against you." He muttered the last phrase, clearly not excepting her to hear him. Ayana tilted her head to the side.

"Sharingan?" She questioned, enjoying how Izuna jerked in surprise. His gaze narrowed on her, some of the similar heat and fire that Madara's gaze evoked racing across her skin. Ayana kept her face serene and innocent, blinking at him sweetly.

"You mean, you don't know? About the Uchiha, and Brother?" Izuna's voice had lost its threatening edge, all the wind gone from his bluster. She sensed he was uncertain now, her response not what he had expected. Feeling more in control now, Ayana lifted her laundry basked and moved up the river bank to where the grass met the rocks. Setting it down, she sat and gestured Izuna to join her. After a long hesitation, the Shinobi settled at her side.

"I live alone and isolated, far from the battles that frequently stain these woods with blood. If I find someone injured, I offer to heal them, no matter who they are. Certainly, I sometimes hear things about the demonic Uchiha and unconquerable Senju, but I do not know what that means. I belong to no clan, Izuna, so I let no clan bind me." Smiling, Ayana lifted her face to the warm sunshine. It was liberating, to not be bound by hatred of other people, but she knew very few who could see things her way. Madara was a rare individual. She had to wonder if there was another like him out there somewhere?

Izuna was silent for a long stretch, but it wasn't restful repose. The Uchiha was sorting her words, turning them around to try and find the falsehood. His chakra was quivering inside his body as his mind worked at speeds even she had to admit were impressive. Although, she wasn't certain her words needed that much consideration. Ayana just waited. There had been no lie spoken, so he would either eventually accept her truth or deem her a liar and threat to his brother. In which case, she wasn't expecting to live very long. If she tried to leave now, she knew it would only cement his opinion of her as a traitorous woman, so she waited.

A flame of raw power washed over Ayana, one she was very familiar with. She shot to her feet and started walking up the river, ignoring Izuna yelling and scrambling after her. The Shinobi quickly caught up to her, grabbing her arm painfully, but before he could say anything he froze as well, sensing what she had.

"Brother!" He shouted, releasing her and running ahead. Grumpily, Ayana picked up her skirt and sprinted after him. The energy she felt was in pain.

"…happened to you? Was it him again?" Izuna's worried voice floated to her as she clamored over a rocky outcropping near the river. Inside the ring of stone, the younger Uchiha was leaning next to Madara where he laid on the ground, chest heaving and body drained of all energy. His head turned towards her sharply, but he made no move to shoo her away. Taking that as a sign of acceptance, Ayana started to climb down. She froze when a sharp blade pressed against her back.

"Izuna, enough. She's a medic. Let her come." Madara ordered wearily. The blade was drawn back instantly, though she could still feel suspicion and anger pressing against her skin from Izuna. Ignoring him, she hurried to Madara and knelt at his side. Her senses focused in on just him, allowing her to see the battered and bruised state of his body without touching him. A few of his ribs were broken, and one shoulder was completely dislocated. Numerous scratched and scraps covered him, some on areas where his armor should have covered. She could only assume it had been shattered. Who was powerful enough to do so much damage to Madara? Despite the extensive amount of damage in the Shinobi, though, what really frightened her was that none of the wounds were life-threatening or dangerous. Someone had beaten Madara thoroughly, and done it without harming him. His broken bones were not shattered, and his exhausted body had no life threatening internal or external injuries. To be able to do so much controlled damage to Madara Uchiha spoke of power beyond what Ayana could even comprehend.

"Madara, how's you get so hurt?" She whispered, lifting her hand and tracing it down the side of his face before she realized what she was doing.

To her shock, he didn't knock her fingers away. Swallowing hard, Ayana allowed her finger tips to trace the man she had been longing to touch for months. His cheeks and jaw were both strong and defined, the skin warm and resilient. Thick, soft hair brushed against the back of her hand and arm as she moved along his temple. When she brushed against the edge of his eyes, she felt him twitch in discomfort, so she quickly drew her hand upwards. He had narrow brows that pressed downward in a scowling face even when he was relaxed as he was now. Following the line down his sharp nose, she ghosted a touch over his full smirking lips before jerking her hand away like she was burned. He had the gall to chuckle at her.

"The battle today had me brushing against up Hashirama. It seems he had taken command of the Senju clan in the place of his father, as I have done for the Uchiha. Out of all Shinobi in this world, only he can challenge me. I have yet to beat him, but one day I will." Madara declared. Ayana felt the passion in his words dancing across her skin. Whoever Hashirama was, he was someone Madara cared about deeply. She couldn't tell if it was just the excitement of a possible rival or actual affection causing his voice to hold so much emotion, though.

"Of course, Madara. Please, remove your shirt. I'll bind your chest and set your shoulder. It's dislocated." She stammered, face flushing from her exploration of his face. Behind her, she heard someone choking back a laugh, but chose to ignore him.

"Izuna, go scout around. The battle is done, but we do not want any Senju sneaking up on us." Madara ordered as he forced his body to sit up. Izuna bounded away, leaving Ayana alone with Madara again. She waited with her hands twisted in her lap as he removed his heavy armor, the metal plates clinking and clunking as he untied them and finally dropped it to the ground with a thud.

He hissed when he tried to remove his shirt. Snapping into action, Ayana rose to her knees and reached out, grabbing the hem of his clothes and starting to roll it under and up. Once she had it up around his shoulders, she grabbed his uninjured arm and guided it through the sleeve before once more rolling the fabric. With the rolling, she was able to remove the shirt without forcing him to move his dislocated shoulder or disturb his ribs. Only once she had set the fabric aside did Ayana realize she was leaning against his powerful torso, one hand caressing his shoulder while she basically sat in his lap.

"Eek!" Squeaking, Ayana tried to scramble back, but Madara grabbed her hair. She froze, heart pounding, as his endless power gently surrounded her, almost like she was being embraced by the energy that used to burn her. Hardly daring to breath, Ayana flexed her hand on his shoulder, feeling the muscled strength residing in the body beneath her palm. His skin was hot, and she could feel scars, but there was no doubt inside her that he was brutally strong. He had nothing in his to soften the impact of his strength against her body, just raw masculine muscle and sinew. Swallowing, Ayana reached up into her own hair and found his hand. The warm leather of his glove gently untangled from her curls as he allowed her to lace her fingers through his and lower his arm back down.

"Let me work, Madara. You're distracting me." She rasped hoarsely. He chuckled, but settled back against the rock, eyes never moving from her. Scooting back, she pulled the small dagger he'd given her out of the sheath on her leg and began to hack at the hem of her dress. She had no medical supplies with her, so she would have to improvise. At least this was her least favorite outfit, old and worn. It was clean, though, so it would work until Madara was able to return to his clan and receive proper attention.

He'd told her, during one of their sessions, that there were Shinobi in his clan who had was of manipulating their chakra to heal others. These medics would send their energy into injured bodies, and use the raw power of life to force the body to rapidly heal and repair all damage. It sounded like a miracle, and Ayana understood just how powerful a tool that would be for clans constantly fighting. But, she also understood the body. Unless the injured person had the chakra power to back up the healing being asked of it, the medic tending the wounded would quickly tire out and be in danger of dying from healing too much. And, there was always the risk that by healing in such a way, the injured would die from trying to normalize their wounds too fast. Some injuries would always be better served being treated by old fashion medicinal means. Such was the case with Madara's injuries now.

Cutting the last piece of her formally long skirt, Ayana once again scooted forward until her now mostly bared legs were on either side of Madara's hips. Ignoring the gaze tracking up her thighs with a heat she could feel, Ayana leaned in and pressed a hand against his side. Instantly, his eyes snapped back up to her face as he hissed in pain.

"Stop leering." She ordered with a smile, removing her hand and reaching around him with the bandage to begin wrapping his chest. The Shinobi held still as requested, though she could feel his gaze staring hard at her face. Each time she leaned in to grab the bandage from behind his back, her body pressed into his strength, making her feel breathless. How was he so overwhelming? It was just a very fine body, nothing she hadn't seen before on other Shinobi she had treated. Apparently, when the marvelous body was Madara's, she became a breathless ninny. Scowling at her lack of control, Ayana tucked the end of the bandage in on itself, leaving the long tail hanging.

"Brace yourself. I'm setting your shoulder." She warned him, grabbing his forearm and placing her palm against the dislocated joint. Without waiting, she yanked he arm forward while pushing it back against the stone. The joint popped back into place easily, leading her to believe it wasn't the first time Madara had dislocated it. He never made a sound, either. Ayana was impressed. That little maneuver always hurt like hell.

Grabbing the trailing tail of the bandage, Ayana started to wrap it around his shoulder. It would help hold the joint in place until the body healed from having it moved. Given that Madara was a powerful Shinobi who would likely receive the best medical care his clan could provide, she expected the bandage to be removed soon. But, until then, she would not have him hurting himself on her watch. Finished with her treatment, Ayana tried to stand and move away from all the muscles and heat pressing in on her.

Madara caught her fragile wrist in his tight grip easily, freezing her. She flicked her blind eyes towards his face, but was unable to tell what he wanted. In their recent lessons, he'd begun experimenting with ways he could block her sight. It was hard for him to completely dampen down his immense energy, especially since he liked his enemies to quiver when they knew he was coming, but he'd started learning ways to confuse her sight. Right now, he was utilizing that ability to keep her in the dark as to what he was doing.

"Madara?" She questioned, tugging to show him she wanted free. He let her go, fingers sliding down her arm in what almost felt like a lingering caress before dropping down into his lap.

"The Senju are likely to still be around these parts. You will not attempt to return home tonight." He declared, finally closing his eyes and freeing her from their paralyzing power. Izuna had said something about her blindness protecting her from Uchiha eyes, but she knew that wasn't true. Madara's vision had the power to stop her in her tracks with just a glance.

"I can't do that. My laundry is at the river. Besides, the Senju do not involve civilians. I will be fine." She argued. He growled in his throat, frustration licking her senses. Ayana fought to keep the smile off her face. Her Shinobi was so used to everyone being cowed by him and listening that when someone didn't do as he wished, he had no clue how to act. It was a fault in him, one she knew might lead to him acting rashly to try to get what he wanted, but between them she found it… cute.

"Woman, I wasn't giving you a choice." He growled, shoving impatiently at his hair while glowering at her. Ayana had never been close enough to tell, but Madara had long, thick hair, unusual for a Shinobi. It was a estimate to his power and skill that he was able to keep his locks long when most had to cut their hair short to minimize giving enemy Shinobi an advantage. Seeing him standing before them with his hair billowing in the breeze must have been frightening to enemies. Ayana just wanted to bury her hands in his hair and feel the heat of his skin in it. The soft strands had been brushing against her bare knees and arms when she'd been treating him, driving her to distraction.

"Where then will I go, Madara? I cannot return home, and yet I can't just go to your clan home. I will not be welcome, not even if I come with you." She shot back, crossing her arms. Madara sighed.

"I am the head of my clan now. They will not harm you if I bring you back." He argued, arrogance coating his words. Ayana gritted her teeth, wanting to shake him. Why couldn't he see that autocratic dictation wasn't going to help anyone, least of all her? He was no fool, but he could be shockingly naïve. A stranger brought into a clan like the Uchiha would be suspected and hated, no matter who brought them in.

Ayana opened her mouth to argue more, but before she could, Izuna jumped back into their secluded stone haven. He landed right next to her, knocking her off balance by bumping into her unexpectedly. Biting back her startled shriek, Ayana fell directly into Madara's lap. The strong Shinobi caught her, both hands holding her slightly above his chest.

"How many times must I tell you to watch yourself, Izuna?" He growled, steadying Ayana until she was able to climb to her feet on her own. She turned her back on the two men, flushing all over. The short hem of her skirt fluttered about the middle of her thighs, leaving her far more exposed than she normally would ever be. The entire situation right now mortified her. If the ground opened at her feet, she would gladly throw herself in.

"Sorry, Brother. I guess the woman isn't completely worthless. The treatment will do until we get back to the clan. And she's not bad on the eyes." Izuna replied cheerfully, the rebuke bouncing off his back like water on a duck. Ayana and Madara both sighed at the same time. She felt sorry for the man. With such a younger brother, it was no wonder he was always pushing himself to protect the younger man.

"Report." At the barked order, Izuna instantly dropped the playful pretext and straightened, arms going behind him back as he looked at Madara. Ayana was impressed. One word was all it took to bring Izuna back in line. No wonder he got so frustrated when she did not follow his directives. He was used to total obedience.

"There are still small numbers of Senju moving through the forest, but for the most part, the area is safe. The Senju Head has them mostly tending to their wounded. He even allowed us to claim our wounded and dead." Izuna answered. Were they speaking of the mysterious Hashirama Madara had mentioned previously? Even though Izuna was speaking of an enemy, she heard some manner of respect in his voice. What kind of man was Hashirama Senju to earn such respect from nit only Izuna, but also Madara? From what Ayana understood, they were not men easily impressed.

"Hashirama will forever be a naïve, kind-hearted fool." Madara muttered, rising to his feet, only the catch of his breath revealing the pain he was in. Ayana turned and knelt, gathering his shirt and armor. She stood and held the out to him. While she could help with the shirt, Ayana had no clue how armor was supposed to go on.

He took the clothing from her, the rustle of fabric alerting her to his intent to dress again. Frowning, she set the armor on the ground and tried to tug the outfit back from him. The stubborn idiot was planning on putting it on himself. No doubt he would ruin her good work by being stubbornly male. Madara refused to let go, though. He tugged back, strength allowing him to pull Ayana off balance again. He stepped aside and let her fall to the ground, proceeding to dress himself and get his armor back on.

"…" Ayana wanted to call the idiot all sorts of names, but she wasn't a fool. Madara would not take well to being belittled, especially not in front of his little brother. Izuna was likely to try and kill her if she did something he deemed inappropriate. The pain she felt inside Madara wasn't overwhelming, and he seemed to be moving fine, so Ayana decided to pick her battles and let it go.

There was one thing she wasn't going to back down on, though. She clamored over the rock with the Shinobi, but once her feet were back on the rocky shore, she crossed her arms and shook her head, refusing to move any more.

"I am no going back with you, Madara. I am not an Uchiha. You return to your home, and I will go back to mine." She declared, lifting her chin when Madara's burning gaze tracked over her. She swallowed hard, but refused to be cowered. She heard him sigh heavily and clank back over to her. Ayana was prepared when he reached out and grabbed her chin. He forced her face up.

"We don't have time for you to argue." He spoke lowly. Ayana smiled brightly at him.

"I agree. So, be careful on your way back. Take a few days off from our lessons and rest." She swore she could feel Madara's blood pressure rising, but she kept her placid façade in place. Izuna choked back another laugh behind his brother, but quickly jumped away when Madara threw something at him.

"You try my patience. We do not have time for your little games." The Shinobi barked, grip bordering in painful. Ayana grabbed his thick wrist and tugged, all mirth fading from her countenance.

"I'm not disagreeing, Madara. Please, just let me go home." She begged. The Shinobi stilled, eyes boring into her.

"Why the desire to go home, medic?" The kick of suspicion in his voice hurt, but Ayana didn't show it. She kept her chin high and and proud.

"Because it is my home. Madara, I will be careful. But you have obligations to your clan. Go to then. Tend the wounded. Bury the lost. Rest." She coaxed, trying to sway him with the one thing she knew would make him change his mind. His clan, his family. From all she had learned of him in their months together, Izuna and the clan were the only things driving him forward.

"…" Silence followed her words, but Madara let her go. Stepping back, Ayana bowed.

"Thank you. Izuna, look after him." She directed the younger brother. She heard Izuna chuckle before he nodded. The younger brother appeared more emotive than Madara, but she still found herself drawn to the older Uchiha more. Turning, Ayana walked away down the river before Madara could complain again. His gaze bored into her back the entire time, but she refused to turn around. Eventually, the brothers turned and she felt their intense chakra leaving.

Blowing out a breath, Ayana hurried to where she'd left her laundry. The peaceful serenity of the river surrounded her. Slowing her pace, Ayana lifted her head up to the sky and let the soft breeze wash over her face. It was hard to believe a major battle had been fought in the woods nearby. All she felt was peace and happiness. Madara would heal. She'd made some sort of progress winning his little brother over. Things were going good for her. Bending, she lifted her basket of close with a smile.

The snapping of a twig was all the warning she got before rough hands grabbed her, a dirty rag shoved into her mouth to stifle her scream. Ayana struggled with all her might, but she was unable to break free. Clothes went flying as she kicked her laundry basket over. Her captor never made a sound, just wrestled her until she was subdued. Rough bonds wrapped around her wrists, anchoring them behind her back. Without sound, she was quickly forced along by impatient tugs in the rope holding her captive.

Trying to quell her anxiety, Ayana stretched her senses out. She couldn't sense any ill-intent, but her nerves still rose up to choke her throat. Swallowing it down, she tried to think. Whoever had her wasn't a decent person, but from their speed and ability to move undetected, she suspected she was dealing with a Shinobi. Perhaps a rogue from one of the clans, or a scoundrel trying to take advantage of the turmoil? Either way, Ayana felt that if she stayed, she would die.

After stumbling along in silence, her captor suddenly stopped. "… here should do." The voice was male and gravely, grating on her nerves. The bindings on her wrists were untied, and the gag removed from her mouth. Rubbing her sore skin, she lifted her head and listened. The area around them was silent, devoid of insects of birds. Unease trickled down her spine. Biting her lip, she lifted her face towards where she thought the man was standing.

"What are you doing. Why have you taken me?" She inquired, trying to keep her body relaxed. She turned her face towards him, lifting her lashes.

"D-Don't look at me like that!" The shouted words squeaked out of her captor's throat. Used to the reaction, Ayana closed her eyes obediently, instantly feeling the tension draw out of the man across from her. He blew out a breath, then answered her in a much more controlled, calm tone than he'd used before.

"I have nothing against you, I really don't. But… I saw. You treated that demon of the Uchiha clan. If you're not around, next time the Senju Shinobi beats him, the demon will die. So, you have to die. It's nothing personal." The man spoke with a mild, child-like cadence. Ayana felt her heart thud against her ribs. No wonder she hadn't sensed ill will: this man truly thought he was doing something good. Maybe he was simple, or just deluded, but the danger he posed was very real. Ayana turned and tried to run. She really should have known better.

Chapter Three

Agony speared through her lower abdomen. Ayana's hands lifted and shook as they wrapped around the metal blade piercing her through, right above her hips. Sticky hot fluid stained her hands as she drew them back, copper filling the air. The sword was removed smoothly, only to be shoved home in her body again, this time on the left side of hips. Ayana couldn't even scream, pain stealing al her breath as the sword was stabbed into her body repeatedly. Only once her entire body was numb and slicked with her own blood did the man pull his blade out, allowing Ayana to slide forward onto her knees. She heard the Shinobi wipe the blade before sheathing it.

"Don't hate me, please. I have to remove you. If the demon is gone and the Senju win, the fighting will stop. My clan has already planned to ally ourselves with the Senju. So, please, just die." The man coaxed, reaching down to pat her head once before he silently glided away. Her body fell forward so she was bent over on all fours. Dirt pressed into her skin as blood leaked out of her body in a steady slow, dripping in an increasingly large tide onto the leafy ground below.

Gasping for air, Ayana tried to think. She needed to stop the bleeding, and get help. There was no way she would be able to treat her wounds on her own. But, where could she go to get help? The image of Madara and Izuna appeared in her head. Ayana shook it free. Even if she found them, they were not trained in medicine. They'd have to take her to their clan, and there was no way the clan would willingly treat an outsider. Besides, with the way her condition was now, Ayana wasn't certain she would survive the journey to wherever the Uchiha clan was. Hissing in a breath, she tried to get to her feet. The air whooshed out of her as she fell into her side.

Her head was swimming. She was losing too much blood. Soon, she would fall unconscious. Pressing her hands against the wounds, Ayana coughed on a sob. Why had this happened to her? She wasn't trying to hurt anyone. All her life, she lived alone, helping those she could and staying out of conflict. Yet, time and again, she was caught up in the problems of the Shinobi world. The thought made her eyes burn. Perhaps she was an idiot, after all. Madara had warned her, but not even he would have been able to predict the predicament she was in now. Tears built in her eyes at the thought of the remote but kind Uchiha. She wouldn't be able to see Madara again. That fact was more painful to her than even the thought of dying.

She didn't want to leave Madara alone.

"Stand… stand, Ayana!" She ground out, reaching out a shaking hand to the tree trunk nearby. Using all her strength, Ayana dragged herself into a standing position inch by painful inch. Her senses were fading and her limbs didn't want to obey her command, but she was upright. However, Ayana knew she'd never be able to walk. It took all she had to lean against a tree. She hated the angry tears that leak out over her cheeks, but could do nothing to stop them.

"Are you in trouble, Miss?" The loud questioned boomed at her from above right before someone jumped down onto the ground next to her. Ayana's heart leapt in shock, but her body was sluggish. She slowly started sliding down the tree, unable to support herself anymore.

"Whoa! You're injured! Please, allow me to assist you!" The boisterous male voice yelled again, quick hands catching her before she completely fell over. At the touch of his warm hands, Ayana felt suffused with an indescribable whirlpool of energy. It shocked her, how similar to Madara's vast strength the chakra felt, but whereas the Uchiha was a turbulent storm, this man's power was a deep, serene sea. There was another out there who equaled Madara in raw power and control? It was a terrifying thought. Ayana's breathing started ease. She felt safe with the unknown man, just like she had instantly trusted Madara when he saved her all those years ago. It made no logical sense, but she knew. Ayana was in no danger now.

"You're… healing me?" She quavered breathlessly, unable to describe the heat and power that was currently flowing through her. It wasn't her own chakra, that she knew just by the feel of it. Her energy was soft and quiet, and had a limit. The power rushing into her now seemed endless. The fuzziness was lifting from her mind with each heartbeat that passed. The control this man had over his power was likely even greater than Madara's. Based on her past experiences, that would make the man saving her life a Shinobi. Fear leapt into Ayana's throat. She was beginning to dislike Shinobi, based on past experience with them.

"Just enough to stabilize. I'd do more, but there are others that need me." The man replied in his grandiose voice. Every word he said was spouted with such enthusiasm that she found herself wanting to smile despite her situation. Ayana lifted her hand, silently asking him to stop. To her relief, he removed his hands, stopping the strange transfer of his energy to her. She sat up, wincing as pain stabbed through her body. He'd truly healed her only enough to make sure she wouldn't die. The wounds in her body were barely sealed to keep her from bleeding out, but she was still in danger. Ayana needed to get back to her home, so she could finish tending the wound on her own.

"… thank you." Ayana lifted her eyes up, expecting some sort of reaction to her gaze. However, her savior seemed completely fine with her gaze. How…. Unusual. The only other man to not be startled by her eyes was Madara. The longer she was in this man's company, the more similarities she felt between him and Madara. It unnerved her.

"It is nothing. You are obviously not a Shinobi. To wander in these woods is dangerous. Would you like me to escort you to safety?" He offered. Ayana couldn't help the laugh that burst out of her, wincing in pain with her mirth.

"Good grief, you and Madara sound like worried old hens," she muttered, waving her hand when the man inexplicably tensed and reached for her again, "Don't worry, I am fine. I know these woods well, and can avoid trouble. Besides, the Senju and Uchiha just had a big fight. It's safest to walk out now, in the lull after battle." She explained.

For some reason, the man in front of her shifted around nervously. Ayana frowned. He was uncomfortable, but why? He'd been fine until she'd mentioned the clans. Her eyes widened, hand rising to cover her mouth. How stupid could she be? She knew better than to mention clans. Being around a Madara all the time had made her careless. Just because he didn't care about clans didn't mean other Shinobi were the same. He was an exception, not the rule. The man in front of her was likely plotting her death now, since she mentioned both strong clans, and their leaders, by name.

Scrambling back, Ayana hastily bowed. "Thank you for saving me, kind friend, but I need to go now. Bye!" She called out as she turned and ran. He shouted after her, but she never looked back. Ayana ran as fast as she could with her body so beaten and disoriented.

He started to give chase, but a huge swell of chakra by the river made them both pause. Ayana shivered at the malice inside that burning power and ran, but the man behind her seemed distracted by it. She was just thankful it gave her the chance to flee.

She stumbled her way halfway blind through the forest until she reached her house, unable to calm herself enough to truly focus so she could see. She claimed the hovel was hers, but she had actually just refurbished an abandoned shack she'd found ages ago. Given her inability to really see what she was doing when working with dead wood, Ayana had devised an alternate solution to her building needs. She'd transplanted numerous young saplings of trees to the hovel, twisting the growing branches and trunks into a complex woven home of living wood. Now, the sturdy trees were growing together, keeping her safe, warm, and protected. It was nearly impossible to spot from above or afar, keeping her safe from the Shinobi battles raging around her. The original hovel was now just her front door and entry. The twisting inner heart of the woven trees were her true home.

Staggering inside, Ayana stumbled over to a large stump she had repurposed into a workbench. Spread across it's rough surface were bundles of herbs and flowers, leaves and mushrooms. Her instruments to make salves and medicine were neatly arranged on one side. Sitting before the table, Ayana tenderly pulled her dress off over her head, leaving her sitting in her loincloth only. Even now, her body was bony and malnourished leading her never fully developing a woman's figure. Her breasts were small, her hips narrow, limbs long and thin. It was fine by her, though. She never had to worry about chest bindings. She felt no shame in a naked body, either, hers or someone else's. Since she was blind, she felt no need to be prudish about what she would never see.

Reaching down, she felt along the edges of her injury, ignoring her bumpy ribs pressing against her skin. The stab wounds had just barely scabbed over, and were hot under her fingers. There was risk of infection and internal bleeding. Her assailant had attacked her in a delicate area, too. Though she never planned on having children, the injuries would make it harder to conceive if she changed her mind. Scar tissue build up was a common cause of infertility among women. Ayana cursed under her breath. She didn't like having her options taken from her.

"Focus, Ayana." She coached herself, reaching along the table. Her fingers bumped into familiar items and vials. Counting in her head, she found the squishy leather pouch she wanted and lifted it in her hand. Uncorking it, a stringent minty scent filled her nose. Squeezing out the paste inside it, she started rubbing the medicine into her wound. She sucked in a breath at the burning and dull ache it caused, but kept going until she had all her stab wounds thoroughly coated in salve. She fumbled around the table until she found a roll of bandages and started wrapping herself. It was far from the tidy job she had done on Madara earlier.

"If he found out, he'd be furious." Ayana muttered, stilling at her words. What had made her think that? She was just a person Madara knew, an annoying woman he'd built up a kind of one sided relationship with. She was an amusing accessory, one that she fully expected him to leave behind some day. Though he had told her to leave for her safety when they first met, and wanted to take her home with him today, she wasn't fooling herself. Madara was just a kind man. He felt nothing for her beyond that.

Finishing her wrap, Ayana corked the medicine again and wobbled to her feet. Placing the pouch back in its place on her table, she wiped the sweat beading on her brow and dragged in a ragged breath. Staying unclothed, she padded across the floor to where the woven branches created a narrow path back to where she had made her bed. Lowering herself down onto the simple pallet, Ayana blew out a breath.

She should clean herself and eat something, but she was too tired. Besides, just the thought of getting up and carrying her heavy cooking pot outside to light a fire made her want to cry. She shook her head and tried to distract herself so she would fall asleep, but reality kept intruding upon her thoughts.

It was becoming too dangerous for her to continue wondering about the forest. The attack today would have killed her if it hadn't been for the mystery Shinobi healing her. All logic pointed to leaving the forest as the safest, and most prudent, course of action to take. But, Ayana didn't want to give up her life. She loved the forest, and being mostly alone. Besides which, no clan would accept her, not with her eyes. The citizen villages that struggled to remain neutral had all abandoned her a long time ago. She had nowhere to go.

"If only the fighting would stop. Those Shinobi, if they all worked together instead of killing each other, this land would be safe." Even as she spoke, she knew that would never happen. Too many people were wrapped up in the importance of clan and blood, unable to see that they were all people. They all had loved ones who fought. They all cried when they were sad, and bled when they were hurt. Vengeance and revenge for all the suffering and fighting had carved out a doomed cycle of hatred, ever repeating itself as the losses compounded with each new generation.

Madara was able to look beyond all that. Ayana suspected that the Shinobi who saved her probably did, as well. But what would two men extraordinary though they might be, do to change a ravaged land? They were both strong, and Madara had obviously become someone his clan feared enough to make their leader, but without touching hearts, how would change come? Unless it was gentle and came from inside, any change made would only be temporary. Ayana could not see anyone having the strength and fortitude to make the sacrifices and bear the burden that type of change would require.

A loud clatter at the front of her house had Ayana bolting upright, only to cry out in pain as the sudden movement jarred her injuries. Gasping for breath and barely able to hold onto her consciousness, she painfully pulled herself upright. Grabbing the edge of the bed, she let her senses flare outward until they lashed against the violent power swirling at the door. She gasped and drew back as though burned. That was an energy she knew very well.

"Madara!" She shouted, unable to contain herself. At the sound of her voice, the man slammed the door open and stormed in, filling her home with his chakra as it raged on the edges of his control. She gasped, nearly overwhelmed by the dominance and malice burning inside his chakra. What had happened to her kind, gentle Shinobi who always kept his power under control, so as not to blind her? Right now, she couldn't see anything, her senses a black field awash in his power only.

"M-Madara?" She hesitated, but called out again. Something inside her demanded that she to bring the Shinobi to her. Instincts told her that Madara was hurting, and she was going to heal this wound, no matter what. He followed her call to the bedroom, freezing at the doorway. Ayana felt a smile start across her face, but it stopped when anger so hot is froze her heart rolled over her body like an ocean wave, exploding out of him in an uncontrolled tide.

"Who harmed you?" Madara's voice was nearly unrecognizable. She gulped and shrank back into her blankets. Silently, the Shinobi glided across the room and towered at her side. She licked her lips, feeling his demand that she talk against her bared flesh, but she wasn't able too. Ayana was frightened. This was not her Madara. This man was the one who had slaughtered an entire group of Shinobi on his own, was the man who had earned the name demon from her attacker.

"Ayana…" Madara whispered her name, making her heart stutter. She lifted her eyes, lips falling open. In all their time together, he had never called her by name, and yet, now… Ayana trembled. Madara knelt by her bed, the choking lash of his power easing back, even though she could still since a black rage boiling inside him, just waiting to be unleashed. His hands, when he reached out to touch her, were shockingly gentle, though. Even though his fury was so potent that it was choking her, he touched her with all the tender care he possessed. Ayana could tell the violence rolling in his heart was not directed at her. She sensed his fury that someone would dare harm her… and his agony that he had not been able to protect her. Ayana allowed him to pull her to the edge of the bed, tracing his gloved fingers down her scrawny body in a phantom caress.

"Wh-why are you here?" She wheezed, trying to speak around her pounding heart. She was terrified, but not of him. His intense hatred and black rage was… she was frightened it would consume him. How could she help him realize her attack wasn't his fault? Madara couldn't hold onto this darkness. It would surely make him act in a way he would later regret. She must never forget that in his heart, Madara was unfailingly kind.

"I went back to get you. When I got to the river, though, your clothes were scattered and you were gone. I tracked the struggle, saw the blood. I followed it here." His answers were short and tight.

"H-how?" She whispered. Madara didn't answer, shaking his head violently enough that she felt his silken hair sliding across her skin. She shivered as his cold gaze dug across her body, checking every nook of her for further injury. He studied her closely, turning her form so he could see her back. With tender hands, Madara lifted her curly hair, gently stroking his hand down her prominent spine before he dropped the heavy mass and went back to examining her. Ayana let him. She could feel his need to make certain she was alright chewing at him. He lifted her wrists carefully, hissing when he saw the marks from the rope on them. She'd forgotten to cover them in a poultice for bruises earlier. Ayana sighed, sliding her hands down to grab his. Lacing her fingers through with his, she squeezed him tightly.

"Madara, look at me." She commanded gently. After a silent moment, he lifted his eyes to hers. She felt his gaze, burning with emotion she didn't recognize, peering directly into her. Giving his hands another hard squeeze, Ayana tried to smile, but only managed a pained grimace.

"I'll survive this injury, and it wasn't your fault or mine that it happened. We cannot control what other people choose to do or believe." She explained, stopping to draw in a shuddering breath. Madara's gaze never wavered, nor did he pull his hands away. They were sitting so close together that her chest brushed the ripped fabric on his arms with each breath she took, and their hair was tangling together were it laid draped over her –

Ayana's eyes widened. Yanking her hands free of his grip, she crossed her arms over her chest and drew away. In her desire to help Madara, to calm the rage and pain growing inside him, she'd completely forgotten that she was practically naked. Cheeks flushing, she lowered her lashes to shield her eyes as she turned her body as far away as she could with Madara caging her in.

"…oh? You're shy now?" Madara's response was long in coming, but when she heard the humor lancing through his dark voice, Ayana almost sagged in relief. His powerful chakra was slowly calming, falling under his control once again. Her vision was starting to return, just in time for her Shinobi to reach out and grab her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze as he looked at her crimson face.

"Just… get my dress. Please, Madara." She wasn't above begging, but pulled away. She expected him to go back out into the main room to get her ruined dress. However, he stood and pulled his armor off over his head. Then, before she could say anything, he dropped the metal plates to the ground and pulled his own shirt off. Wrapping it around her body, he sat back down on the bed. She stared up at him, surrounded by the heat and smell of his body. The shirt was huge on her, covering her down to the tops of her gangly knees. Since it had a high collar, she could cover her face to her nose if she pulled the fine fabric closed.

"What are you going to wear?" She asked, blinking at him. Why had he given her his clothes? He was injured, too. At the thought, Ayana rose up and pulled the blanket out from under her. Reaching out, she dropped the worn, threadbare cover over his arm as he leaned on the bed. Picking it up, Madara stood and pushed her back, covering her with the blanket instead.

"Stay here. I'll be back in a few hours." He ordered, turning to leave without answering her question. Ayana bit her lip. She didn't want to annoy him, especially since he was being so kind to her, but she wanted him healthy and safe.

Surely a Shinobi knew better than to walk around with no protection at all, especially one as powerful and strong as Madara was. He wasn't stupid. There were still Shinobi prowling the woods who would gladly attack him in his vulnerable state. But the man just waved her concern aside.

"Izuna is waiting. I will return to the clan and settle things there. Then I'll come back. If you won't come to me, I have no choice but to follow you," He admitted, frowning, "Though, I don't know why I am doing this, to be honest."

Holding her breath, Ayana nodded, sinking back against her pillow. She would have to trust that a man as strong and talented as Madara would be able to make it safely home. As long as he didn't run into the man who had healed her, she was pretty certain that he would be alright. Nobody else would be able to harm him. She didn't tell him about the other man, though. The anger inside Madara had just faded, but she could still sense it simmering under the surface. She was afraid telling him about he other man would release it again. Somehow, she had a feeling he might have known the man. They were too similar for it to be pure coincidence.

Seeing her obeying him, Madara left, closing the door to her home behind him. Once she was alone, Ayana let her head flop back, heart pounding. A ridiculous, completely uncontrollable smile stretched across her face. She pulled the shirt collar up over her nose, inhaling his scent. There was blood, that was true, but she could also smell smoke and fresh leaves. It was an intoxicating aroma to her senses, making her fear and anxiety fall away. She felt safe with his clothes surrounding her.

After spending all these months together, seeing him for hours nearly every single day, Ayana felt like she knew Madara pretty well. He would never act for anyone whom he did not care for. But, if he did care for someone, it was with his whole being. Friend or family, he would risk everything and hold back nothing to help that person. The Uchiha seemed to hold nothing back, feeling emotions deeply and completely. She admired that about them, even as she recognized the weakness it created inside Madara.

His rage had been potent when he found her gone. She had probably sensed his chakra when she fled the other Shinobi. It had burst out of him, breaking through his iron control. In all her time with Madara, the only one who had been able to rattle him was Izuna. But now, she learned that her survival was important to him. His anger at the thought of her coming to harm had unleashed his full power, a potent tool that could be used against him. If someone he cared about that deeply were taken from him, the depths of despair he fell too would be fathomless. But, was Ayana truly someone who he cared for?

In matters of the heart, Ayana was worse than clueless. She'd never actually been around anyone long enough to develop feelings for them. Most people annoyed her, and she had no idea what attraction and desire were supposed to feel like. However, she wasn't bothered by Madara. Her treatment of him earlier had proven to her that she was, without a shadow of a doubt, attracted to Madara. His body was hard and powerful, and just touching him briefly had caused her entire being to become suffused with heat. From all she'd been told and listened to, that was what the gossips called desire. She desired Madara.

Even though his arrogance was aggravating, and his power frightening, she never became bored of his company, either. He was painfully intelligent and keen, with a deeply hidden sense of humor and acerbic wit. She'd learned that he was shy, though he hid it behind his smooth confidence and suave charisma. Social interactions confused him, especially when dealing with those who disagreed with him. She'd driven him off more than once by holding to her principals, but he always came back. Usually to try and change her mind to follow his thinking, but he never left her for long.

Because of that, Ayana was pretty certain that Madara felt something for her. If he truly disliked her, he would have left and never come back after she challenged and annoyed him. Even if he needed her instruction on how to see without eyes, he wouldn't have returned. It would be easier for him to just find another instructor. But he returned to her, day after day. That made her think that she was someone he wanted to be near. Like Izuna, he couldn't leave her alone. He had to protect her. Unlike Izuna, though. Ayana couldn't protect herself. Thus, she had ended up hurting him by getting attacked.

"I have to be careful." She whispered, pulling the blanket up over her head. She was a weakness, and Madara probably knew that. He was obsessed with strength. To his clan, he had to be the strongest, the best. He could have no flaws. Right now, they did not know about her. Izuna would never betray his brother, but her? She wasn't someone he cared about. Ayana feared that if the Uchiha clan ever found out about her, they would come after her. She needed to be ready.

Ayana would always be ready. To protect Madara, she would do anything.

Chapter Four

When Ayana's front door slammed open with a sound to rival the clap of thunder outside, she didn't jump. It was becoming a common occurrence. Instead, she set aside the grindstone she was pulverizing dried herbs into powdered medicine on and waited as Madara stalked in, rain and wind blowing after him. Kicking the door shut with his foot, he shook his head, sending water droplets flying out form his wild hair. Ayana flinched when some cold splashes landed on her skin. Rubbing the dampness away, she folded her hands in her lap.

"… We had to retreat again. Now that Hashirama is heading the Senju, their strategic might and power is greater than the Uchiha's." He growled without prompting. Ayana nodded, understanding that her Shinobi needed to vent. In the last year, the battle between the two clans had become more and more chaotic, tearing up entire sections of the forest with their clashes. Izuna told her that when Madara and Hashirama Senju met on the battlefield, the rest of them had to flee or die in the ensuring battle. The two Shinobi were so powerful that their fights caused huge damage. Despite that, though, the Senju Shinobi always managed to drive Madara and his clan back.

The Uchiha had sustained heavy losses, and Madara was losing hope that he would be able to stop the fighting by wiping out his rival clan. Even worse, Izuna had secretly told her that members of the clan were defecting to the Senju. Apparently, Madara and Hashirama were old friends, and the Senju Shinobi offered peace each time he saw Madara. Some Uchiha had decided to trust him, though Madara refused. Sometimes, his stubborn insistence he was right made Ayana so angry. He refused to try and see another way.

"Any deaths?" She asked instead of trying to sway his mind. She'd done that already, and knew it would only lead to an argument. Madara sighed, sitting down across from her.

"A few. Mostly injuries. I came by to get more medicine. You're quickly becoming invaluable to my clan." He admitted, pride showing in his voice. Ayana smiled, ducking her head shyly. Ever since he had helped her recover after her attack, Madara had been more forthcoming with compliments about her. After all, he'd seen first-hand how effective her medicines were. Even Izuna noticed, dropping by on occasions Madara was too busy to stock up for the clan. Ayana enjoyed the young man's company, striking up an easy friendship with him. While the younger Uchiha was still devoted only to the clan, outside of that flaw he was amicable and funny, possessing the same depth of emotion and expressions as his older brother.

"With the weather bad, you may as well stay the night." Ayana slapped her hand to her mouth as soon as she spoke, blushing all the way across her body. Madara's gaze landed on her, but she shook her head and turned away. Why had she said that? They'd grown very close, that was true, and she was certain he felt something for her, but she had no idea what that actually was. If he only thought of her as a friend, then she was going to die of mortification.

Instead of leaving like she expected, or laughing like she dreaded, Madara just watched her. His gaze was heavy, but she couldn't feel any disgust in it. Peeking between her fingers and twisting around back toward him, she tried to feel out his face. To her shock, when her senses touched him, he was smirking at her. Heat unfurled low in her body.

"How brave. Most people do their utmost to get away from me, but you truly wish to dance?" He purred, deep voice slipping into a smoot cadence that made everything in Ayana melt.

"I didn't know we were dancing." She breathed, voice whispery and breathless. Madara rose to his feet, silently gliding around the table to sit beside her, so close she could feel his damp skin and hair and heat on her body. Reaching out, Madara touched her arm lightly, barely grazing her skin with his gloved hand.

"We've been dancing around this for a while. The question is, are you brave enough to step with me?" Even though his voice was still sultry and low, rubbing against her senses like a sensuous velvet caress, Ayana heard the question in his words. If she said that she wasn't ready, that she was too afraid, then Madara would pull away. He would be angry, and their easy companionship would likely be ruined, but he would do it. She drew in a deep breath. In truth, she was afraid, but not for the reasons he likely feared.

"I don't know about this, Madara, at all. I'm afraid I'll disappoint you. And… I'm blind." She timidly pointed out.

"Your eyes have nothing to do with this. If you disappoint, I'll let you know so you can learn to be better. In this, we are both going to learn. This is a moment of letting each other known what is really in our hearts." He spoke gently, still running his hand up and down her arm. Ayana struggled to keep from trembling at the phantom touch. She wanted his glove off, so she could feel the heat of his skin. From their first meeting so long ago, the heated roughness of his touch had been overwhelming, though. With him as powerful as he was now, how would she handle so much direct contact?

She licked her lips, feeling his gaze immediately sharpen in on the nervous motion. "I thought you said it was impossible to share what was in our hearts with another person. Isn't that why you keep refusing Hashirama's talks of peace?" She quavered. Irritation lashed against her as Madara waved her words off.

"Actions have always spoken louder than words, is what I mean. I can't trust the truthfulness of the words of someone who has slain more of my clansmen than any other Shinobi. We will speak no further of him. Just answer me, are you ready or not?" He snapped his hand up to her chin, forcing her to lift her head and feel his gaze penetrating deep inside her. Whenever Madara gazed at her directly like that, she felt burning Chakra against her senses. Izuna had explained why, let her know about the Sharingan, but she had to wonder why it was always active when Madara was with her. Most Uchiha tried to limit their usage of the powerful weapon, as it diminished eyesight and strength with each activation.

Shaking the wondering thoughts loose, Ayana lifted her hands up to the grip on her chin. Sliding her long fingers down his wrist until she had them inside his sleeve, she found the end of his glove and started to pull it up. In the past, Madara had not trusted her, so he hadn't allowed her to touch him. She was going to put his own words against him and see what his actions told her. Did Madara trust her now? Was he ready for her to touch him?

He held his body still as Ayana pulled his glove up until only his grip on her chin kept it on. He released her face, the glove sliding off his hand as he pulled away. Left holding a warm, damp glove, Ayana frowned. Before she could even open her mouth, a warm hand covered in scars and much hotter than she expected wrapped around the back of her hand, thumb tenderly brushing behind her ear as it pulled her forward. A squeak was all she managed to say before Madara kissed her.

Ayana's senses burst out of her control as Madara's commanding, dominating lips sealed over hers. She could see his hair sliding forward, sticking to him and her because of the rain he'd been out in. She felt the fabric of his clothes clinging to his muscular body as he bent over her, caging her in with his larger frame. His free arm wrapped around her lower back, holding her captive as his lips opened over hers and a wickedly talented tongue licked along her bottom lip.

Gasping, Ayana opened her mouth, only to find his tongue sliding in along hers. She reached up and gripped a fist full of his hair over his shoulder, anchoring herself against his marble-hard body as she felt like she was flying away. Pleasure swam through her veins, pouring over her like a waterfall she had ducked under. It pounded against every edge of her body, making even the smallest contact between them excruciatingly painful. Reaching up with her free hand, Ayana traced the side of his handsome face, fingers showing her the strong jaw as it clenched at her tentative touches, and the way his corded neck tightened when she slid her questing fingers down it.

Only when Ayana was certain she was going to pass out did Madara lift his lips from hers. Instead of pulling away, though, he rested his forehead against hers, hoisting her body up so that she was straddling his legs. Her thighs were presses against the outside of his sturdy legs, gripping his hips tightly for balance. She wore a dress, as always, so her bared legs were scratched by the damp fabric of his clothes. Flushing red, Ayana closed her eyes.

"You are ready to dance with me." Madara purred, licking her nose before turning his face so he could nip at the line when her jaw met her neck. Ayana twitched at the sharp bite, expecting pain, but feeling only pleasure. She tightened her grip on him, lifting her lashes to direct a glare his way. He chuckled lowly, kissing the pain away before abruptly standing.

Ayana yelped, wrapping both her legs around him tightly. Burrowing in as close as she could, she held on for dear life as her Shinobi easily carried her back into the twisting limbs of her home where her simple bed rested. Laying her down on the pallet, Madara pulled back for a moment. She lifted her hands, frowning, but then heard the rustle of fabric as he removed his sandals and wet clothes. She gulped and clutched the collar of her dress.

"Remove it."

The low order was unexpected. Ayana felt his heated gaze on her hands, guessing he wanted her to take her dress off on her own. Too shy and uncertain, Ayana shook her head mutely. Madara sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to tip her chin up with one warm finger. He'd removed his other glove. The temptation of Madara sitting bare on her bed was overwhelming. She wanted to touch him, feel him all over her. The thought frightened her. She shook his finger off and lowered her head.

"Take your clothes off for me, Ayana, or I won't touch you at all." He threatened. Ayana's head snapped up, mouth flopping open unattractively. He knew she was tactile. It was how she saw things without utilizing her chakra senses. To deprive her of that, especially considering how everything they were doing was new to her, was cruel. Biting her lip, she toyed with the edges of her dress.

"I… I'm shy, Madara." She argued. If he would just act like her normally did and do everything himself, she would be fine. But it seemed Madara had a side to him she had never seen, a part that liked to tease and make her uncomfortable. He just laughed at her words and shook his head.

"You've got to show me you want this, want me. Otherwise, where's the fun?" He remained seated on the edge of the bed, gaze never straying from her body. Ayana gritted her teeth. Alright, he wanted her to be brave? Then she was going to be brave.

Rising up onto her knees, Ayana pulled her dress off over her head. Then, feeling his gaze growing hotter as it roamed over her exposed skin, she slipped her fingers into the fabric tied at her hips, keeping her womanhood shielded from his view. Slowly, rolling her hips as best she could, Ayana pulled the fabric down her legs, lifting one to flick the loincloth away with a kick of her foot. Now completely bared, she lifted her arms up under her heavy mass of curls, letting her hair fan out around her body as she swayed on her knees. She was so flushed she could probably burn with the heat in her skin, but she smiled when Madara's tension reached her. Despite her skinny state, he desired her.

That smile vanished when she found herself pinned beneath his heavy body. She went from zero contact to being pressed against him from thighs to breast, and her mind shorted out. She could feel the planes of his muscles against her skin, his hair creating a cage around her that shielded her from the outside world. Against her inner thigh, she felt him, his masculine brand singeing her with the desire it awoke inside. His body was hard and large, and so warm she felt burned. Ayana gasped, struggling to breath at the overwhelming sense of him. She was seeing Madara like she never had before. While she struggled to assimilate to his dominating presence, he kissed her again, this time stabbing his tongue into her mouth immediately.

Her lips were wet from their shared saliva spilling out whenever they pulled away to draw in ragged gasps of air, but she didn't care. Ayana twined her fingers in his abundant hair and strained against him, wanting more. She felt his chuckle in his chest, one of his hands sliding down her neck and shoulders to her breasts. She tensed in anticipation, the tips feeling heavy and achy. But, he did not touch her where she wanted him to. He gently, tenderly, plumped the small mounds once each before sitting back on his heels above her, drawing his hands away to stare.

"You play with fire, Ayana, you'll get burned." He finally rasped, rubbing the knuckles of his hand low on her sunken abdomen, right above her hips. The scars from being stabbed were still there, small raised slashes in her flesh, but he wasn't repulsed by them. When she'd been recovering, Ayana had tried to prevent him from seeing the marks, certain they would hurt her Shinobi. But, he'd caught her changing her wrappings one day. Instead of getting angry, he'd knelt at the side of her bed and touched each scar tenderly, memorizing it. He'd been so tender then, just as he was now, tracing over each mark lovingly. She could feel his admiration for her spirit in his touch. She'd survived, and that was all that mattered to him.

"I'm not the one who can manipulate fire." She gasped out, lifting her hips. Madara sighed and forced her to lay flat by pinning her hips with both his hands. Crossing his legs, he sat between her spread legs, making Ayana struggle to cover herself from his view. It was one thing to tease him, but this was too much.

"… True. Let me play with yours." Before Ayana could ask Madara what he meant by 'her fire,' she felt him lean down and breath over her exposed body, right between her legs. A keening cry flew out of her throat, body clenching tight in sudden excitement and embarrassment. He was looking directly at her womanhood, breathing on it, and she couldn't handle it. Her modesty demanded she cover herself, but her body ached and clenched, warming and softening at the knowledge that the one man she wanted was looking upon her.

Creamy wetness coiled inside her, brimming over and out of her control. Tears of shamed arousal pricked at Ayana's eyes. She knew the logistics of what they were doing, but actually experiencing it was something she was not prepared for. Her body was racing ahead of her, out of her control. While everything was excruciatingly pleasurable, it was boarding on too much, painful. Reaching down, Ayana grabbed Madara's hair and tugged until he lifted his head. He must have read her confused fear on her face. He sat up and grabbed her wrists, pulling her until she sat straddling his lap.

His arousal rubbed against her slit, causing them both to shudder. Madara deftly switched her position, setting her sideways on his lap so that he was snuggled against the bottom globes of her rear. Without saying anything, he held her around the shoulders with one arm. Ayana rested her head against his neck, breathing in his smoky leaf scent.

"Ah!" The cry broke from her throat, back snapping ramrod straight as his other hand slipped between her pressed together thighs, fingers delving into the arousal he'd summoned forth. Ayana turned her face against his neck, hiding from his view. He chuckles and tightened his grip on her, but never stopped his fingers from invading further. One large calloused digit traced the wet seam up and down before pushing inward.

"Nnn!" Ayana bit her lip to try and stop the groan, but it seeped out beyond her control. She clutched both her hands in Madara's abundant hair, arching her body to try and escape the pleasure rolling inside her. His sly finger stroked up until he found the hyper sensitive nub in her folds, flicking it once. A short scream, quickly bit off, erupted out of her throat.

"Come now, I know you can sing louder than that." Madara whispered against her ear, making her body shudder as goosebumps broke out along her back from his heavy tone alone. She shook her head, still refusing to lift it. He bit her shoulder, teeth latching on hard enough to sting with pain and leave a mark behind. Perversely, Ayana felt her body shudder, another wave of moisture welling up inside. He felt it, finger stirring around in the sudden bath.

"Mmm, now this I find fun." He practically purred the words, sliding a second finger in alongside the first. Ayana's thighs clenched on his hand, nails clawing into his back. Her Shinobi moved his digits in further, locating the wet and wanting entrance to her body. Without waiting for her to relax, he slipped both fingers in up to the third knuckle.

"Madara!" Ayana's voice rose out of her, pitching high on the last vowel until she keened his name. Her body seized on his fingers, pain and pleasure swirling together inside her in a confusing blend she couldn't make sense of. It hurt, but she craved more. Her body was tense, but melting from just his touch alone. Her inner muscles began a rhythmic ripple, clenching tightly and releasing on his fingers. Against her bottom, Ayana felt Madara's arousal twitching, a smear of hot fluid smudging her skin.

Without speaking, Madara pulled his fingers out, only to shove them back in. Ayana finally lifted her head, throwing it back as a choked groan exploded out of her control. The more she tried to hold back her voice, the harder Madara pressed his fingers inside of her. He kept pulling them out, only to slam them back in. Soon, his hand was damp from the moisture he'd drawn from her body, and Ayana's thighs fell open. Her tight clenching gripped his digits almost desperately. Whenever he removed them, she felt the loss. She needed him to keep touching her there. But, it wasn't enough. Deeper inside, she ached, wanting so much more.

Panting, Ayana grabbed Madara's chin and kissed him. He stilled in his teasing, letting her nip at his lips. Returning the favor, he devoured her mouth before pulling back to bite her neck. Instead of a gentle sting, though, Ayana felt sharp pain.

"Ouch!" She rasped, tears leaking out of her eyes as her sensitized body clenched on his fingers. His teeth had broken her skin. He licked the blood that welled up before lazily dragging his tongue down to her breast. Her tips were hard points, swollen and painful. He grabbed one with his teeth and tugged. Groaning, Ayana wrapped her arms around his head and held him there, pressed her chest against his mouth. He suckled on her, but quickly drew away.

"Sensitive. You want me now, don't you?" Madara breathed the question against her lips, pulling his hand out from between her thighs. Ayana couldn't lie, not when her legs were wet with her own arousal, her lips and chin damp with drool and tears. She nodded.

"Only me, Ayana. That is a rule. You will never belong to anyone else." His sudden dominance washed over her, a threat she could feel. He grabbed her chin with the hand he'd been pleasing her with, smearing her face with her own arousal. The scent overpowered her. It was shameful and wrong, but… she loved it. Ayana smiled, lips trembling as she lifted her hands to trace his scowling mouth.

"Of course, Madara. I am yours. Only you. This may very well be a hopeless love. Your clan will expect you to marry an Uchiha to produce heirs, and there is no telling how long either one of us will live in this world. But even so, I will belong only to you." She swore, meaning each word. It was a struggle to speak, but she did her best despite the desire still shaking her entire body. Ayana needed Madara to understand what he meant to her. She knew she would lose him one day; she had no allusions about that.

Madara sighed, grip on her face changing to tender strokes along her cheek. "All this time and you still think that? Have you learned nothing about my clan, about me? When an Uchiha loves, it is with all his heart. I cannot, will not, marry another. Izuna will carry on the lineage." He explained, making her heart thud painfully in her chest. He hadn't said it, not directly, but… then again, neither had she. But with them, they didn't need to. He was promising to belong to her, as she would belong to him. The extraordinary gift made her heart swell until she couldn't contain herself.

Sobbing, Ayana twisted until she could wrap her arms and legs around him, squeezing him as tightly as her frail arms could. She pressed against him, trembling with emotions and tears of happiness streamed down her face. Over and over, she sobbed his name. Somehow, she'd earned the love of this unusual man. His power was potent and his responsibilities huge, and yet he loved her, a powerless and aimless blind medic. All those years ago, when they'd first met, she would have never guessed that she would be here now, in his arms, with his heart in her hands.

"Thank you. Thank you, Madara. Thank you." She repeated, over and over, unable to express in words or actions how blessed she felt. Madara stroked his hand down her back, fingers tangling in her curls. He didn't seem to mind too much, content to have her clinging to him with her entire body. But their desire couldn't be forgotten for long. Her position had his arousal nudging against her womanhood, bathing in the moisture welling from her. Feeling his heat and hardness, Ayana flushed, drawing back enough to turn her sightless eyes towards his gaze.

"I expect you to sing for me, Ayana." He teased, lifting her with his upper body strength alone. The muscles in his arms and abdomen clenched tight against her, deliciously powerful. She just smiled at him, too wound up to care about his arrogant demand. She lived alone, away from anyone, so it didn't matter anyway. If he wanted her to scream, she'd shatter the sky with her cries.

He set her on her knees, steadying her with a hand on her hips. His other he used to grip himself, the thick brand of his masculinity nudging against her entrance. She couldn't help the fresh squirt of arousal that leaked out of her as his head bumped against her. He was hot, and hard as stone. Ayana bit her lip, nerves returning. Seeing her unease, Madara leaned forward and kissed her again, tongue dueling with her own. She melted into the kiss. While she was distracted, Madara took that moment to lower her down as he thrust his hips upward, sliding his body home inside hers.

Ayana screamed.

Madara smiled against her skin, luxuriating in her shattered voice, but he didn't give her time to recover. While her muscles stretched and strained around his member, he shoved further inside her clenching depths, moving in small circles as he ground himself deeper. She dropped her head, panting. Inside of her body, her muscles clenched and rippled over Madara's shaft as he invaded her. It hurt, a little, body unused to the sensation of having someone inside of her. But it also felt amazing. His heat radiated out through her and his thick girth touched her deeper than his fingers had ever done, hitting spots that caused shocks of pleasure to shot through her entire body.

It was indescribable.

Their ragged breathing and panting was all she could hear. It drowned out the sound of the rain. She could hear a wet sound as Madara lifted her hips a little before sliding back inside. Biting her lip, she leaned forward and pressed her forehead against the bulwark of his shoulder. Her Shinobi wrapped an arm around her from behind, strong forearm sizzling against her back as he tenderly cradled her head.

"We're not done dancing yet." He whispered, shifting his grip to her thighs and pulling her legs wide and behind him.

"Madara!" Ayana shouted as his member rammed deeper inside her, their new position allowing him even further access to her. He shifted his grip to her ankles, forcing Ayana to release him and lean back on her hands to steady them. His grin licked against her skin before his hips started gliding back and forth, shunting his arousal in and out of her body at a controlled, aggravating pace.

Tingles and shivers raced across Ayana's skin, desire ratchetting up inside her. It kept building until her body was tensed and strained, wanting release from the pleasure inside of her. But Madara kept moving slowly, controlling her desire and keeping her on the painful edge of release. Ayana whimpered, feeling his elation at the sound. Wanting revenge, Ayana forced herself to sit up, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning in close. She set her teeth in his shoulder and bit down, hard enough that she felt him shudder, shaft thickening inside her.

He pulled her head back by grabbing her hair and yanking, causing her to tighten on him. His hot gaze burned as it tracked over her. Leaning in, he bit her ear, licking the tender flesh. "Just remember, you started this." He whispered, hot tone causing her to shiver. She felt like she was about to find out just how dangerous her Shinobi lover really could be.

She couldn't wait.

Chapter Five

Ayana groaned when she woke up, entire body tender and sore. The storm outside last night had not come close to the tempest she'd unleashed inside Madara last night. He'd kept her on the painful edge of release for hours, so that when she finally found herself tipping over the edge, it had been a glorious climax that had her screaming his name until she tore her voice to shred. And then he'd done it again, without once withdrawing from inside her. He liked being close, seeing how far he could take her. Ayana was ashamed to know she could go pretty far, but it felt so good that she truly didn't care. Madara's chakra had been so contented afterwards that she would do anything to keep him that way.

Bite marks and bruises covered her entire body, and she winced when she stretched out her limbs, but she smiled. Ayana had never expected Madara to teach her so much, but she'd learned in the process as well. She considered that a fair exchange.

Her stretching hand tangled in thick silken hair, causing her smile to grow wider and warmer. Madara was curled around her body, chakra calm and body relaxed. That he was comfortable enough with her to rest completely was… indescribable. She took a moment to trace his features with her fingers. Madara was so beautiful. He had fine features, and now that he was asleep, she could explore them to her heart's content. She lightly touched along his eyes, feeling thick lashes and a small amount of puffiness beneath them. He must not rest well enough to completely recharge.

When her fingers danced down his stern nose to his full lips, she lingered, flushing at the memory of those lips tracking over her entire body. She gasped when her fingers were engulfed, gently licked and suckled.

"You're awake!" She exclaimed softly, drawing her hand back, but not moving away from him. She enjoyed laying next to him.

"I am an Shinobi. The slightest sound or movement will wake me. I do not sleep deeply. Even here." He replied, leaning forward to give her forehead and peck before he rolled out of bed and started pulling his clothes off the floor. Wincing, Ayana dragged her aching body upright, shoving her wild hair back.

"… You came for medicine. Let me get it for you." She offered, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. When she went to stand, though, her hips sent a painful shaft of pain through her body, causing her to collapse to the floor with a gasp. Madara laughed.

"No need. I know where it is. You're incapable of much after our night, anyway." He teased, pausing in his dressing to bend and scoop her up. Setting her back down in her bed, he picked the blanket up from where they'd tossed it aside some time during the night, tucking it in around her body.

"Stay here and rest. The Uchiha fight today. Izuna found some intel about the Senju's movements, so I must lead this battle. Once it is done, I will return to discuss… matters." He kissed her forehead one more time before standing. Getting dressed, he paused at the doorway of her room.

"Do you… need anything? "He sounded embarrassed when he asked. Ayana covered her giggled and shook her head.

"Nothing rest can't handle. I'm not the first women to have a long rough ride, nor will I be the last. I can take care of myself. Go, do what you feel you need to do. I'll be waiting here." She told him, sending him off with a smile. Madara nodded and left, his chakra as calm and serene as a pool of water.

Giggling happily, Ayana flopped back down on the bed, luxuriating in her bruised and sensitive state. Madara was more than she had ever hoped for. He was intense, and yet caring. Even as he drove her mad, he made certain she enjoyed every heart-stopping second of it. She was well aware of how lucky she was to have captured his heart as well. Madara was an Uchiha; she knew that meant she had his heart for as long as they were both alive.

It took Ayana three hours to get down to the river behind her home and bathed, but she felt better once she did. Back home, she dressed and decided to finish her work on the medicine that Madara had interrupted last night. Since he said his clan was fighting the Senju, she knew there would be need of it. She wished Madara would listen to Hashirama's offer of peace, but knew it would never likely happen. He wasn't someone who trusted words. Actions spoke for him.

Grinding seeds and dried herbs, Ayana combined the powders into small doses and put them in pouches. She made fever reducers, pain killers, and special blends that would help wounds heal faster. Knowing that the Senju were Shinobi, she also decided to make some antitoxin powders as well. Many Shinobi utilized poisons in order to be more effective killers.

Satisfied with her medicine production for the day, Ayana gathered all she had made together into a satchel and tied it up. When Madara or Izuna came by to get the medicine, it would be ready. Even though they liked her help, neither brother ever asked her to come back to the clan with them to treat injured Shinobi directly. She understood the reason why, but it still hurt a little to be excluded and distrusted. Madara kept her away to protect her, but even though he was friendly with her, she knew Izuna still did not completely trust her.

Heading outside, Ayana found the old bent tree in front of her home. She sat, listening to the forest around her. She expected to sense birds and animals, but the woods were silent. Disturbed, Ayana stretched her senses to the limit, but still could not feel any animals around. However, unease licked at her, making her recoil slightly. What had happened? Why did the forest suddenly feel so… malicious?

Her hand lifted to her throat. Had something happened?

Shaking her head, she tried to calm herself down. Nothing was wrong. Madara or Izuna would be coming soon to pick up medicine. Perhaps she should get food going, and maybe some tea, too. If they'd been in a battle, then they would be tired. She could at least make them something nutritious. Mind made up, Ayana climbed to her feet and headed back inside.

Due to living in a house made of wood, she never cooked inside her house. Ayana had a large pot that she dragged in and out for all her cooking, which she did in a small firepit she'd built of stones in front of her house. When she tried to lift the iron pot, she felt her abused hips protest. Gritting her teeth, Ayana powered through, half dragging the heavy metal pot outside to the disguised fire pit. Tugging the cover of leaves and woven branches off the fire pit, Ayana flopped down onto her haunches. She still had to pull water up from the river in buckets.

She wanted to whimper, but slapped her sides with her hands. She couldn't be weak. Madara and Izuna had been out fighting all day, while she rested. She had no reason to complain. Climbing back up to her feet, Ayana gathered her bucket from inside and started hauling water up from the small river until her pot was full. Starting a fire, she hurried inside and grabbed vegetables from her small garden out back. Cutting and peeling, she soon had a simmering soup ready to go.

"There's still no animals around." Ayana muttered, worry starting to slick her stomach. It was evening. She should be hearing owls and crickets, the rustle of leaves as birds and squirrels came in to rest for the evening. But she heard nothing. There was no sound. Even more concerning… Madara hadn't returned. It was normal for him to be gone for a few days, but she had told her when he left that they were going to talk. She didn't know about what, but it was unlike him to not keep a promise. Chewing on her bottom lip, Ayana scooted closer to the bubbling pot of soup.

Her anxiety kept creeping higher, but Ayana forced it down. Even if she was upset, she had no idea where to go to start looking for Madara. It was partly to keep his clan safe, but also to keep Ayana away from those who might do her harm. They'd never spoken about it, but each of them understood that her position was a dangerous one. Her freedom depended on her continued neutrality in the struggles between the clans. As such, she did not know where the Uchiha clan was. But even if she did, the clan would not reveal the location of their feared leader to some woman who wandered up to them. Ayana would have to wait.

She ate a small serving of her soup, keeping the rest in reserve in case Madara or Izuna came and were hungry. But even when full night engulfed her home, no one came. Struggling to breath, Ayana returned inside her home and sat at the table. What had happened? Why was she so distraught? Normally, she took everything in stride, but now she was a nervous wreck. Apprehension licked across her stomach, making it roll. Swallowing hard, Ayana stood.

With determined steps, she stormed over to her door and yanked it open. Before she could step out, though, she ran right into someone.

"Wha - !" her exclamation was cut off as cold hands grabbed her, wrapping around her mouth.

"Ayana? The blind medic, Ayana?" The voice was unfamiliar, as was the energy swirling around the man, but he knew her name. She never told former patients her name, in part to keep herself safe, but also to discourage them from forming any attachment to her. So then, how did he know her name. Helpless in his grip, Ayana nodded sharply.

"Come, quickly. Lord Madara has summoned you." At the mention of Madara's name, her heart leapt in her throat. This man had to be an Uchiha. Why would Madara summon her to him, especially when he'd been so careful to keep her separate from his clan. Hands shaking, Ayana nodded her head again. Releasing her, but keeping a steel-like grip on her arm, the Uchiha male dragged her away. Ayana stumbled along after him.

She didn't know how far away they walked. Her confusion was so strong that her senses failed her. But she knew she was far from the area of the forest that she normally traversed. This was the heart of the forest, where the clashes between the Senju and Uchiha frequently stained the soil red with blood. Trying to keep her nerves under control, Ayana swallowed hard.

"W-why am I being summoned?" She dared to question. She felt angry, bitter eyes slash across her skin before the man turned his attention away from her.

"Just walk, medic." He growled, tugging her forward roughly. She stumbled, but did not fall down. Gritting her teeth, Ayana kept her silence. Her answers would have to come from Madara himself, apparently.

Soon, she felt other people on the edges of her senses, and a blanket of dark, anguished chakra that blanketed everything with malice and despair. The crowding trees gave way to a small clearing, where she felt numerous sneering, scathing eyes on her. Each one burned her, painfully seeing her blindness and judging her because of it. Holding her head high and hiding her trembling hands in her skirt, Ayana yanked her arm free of the Uchiha who was dragging her.

"I can follow just fine. Take me to Madara." She demanded, not shrinking away from quick anger that built inside the shinobi. There was so much anger and despair in the air around her, choking her breath. The pain was suffocating. What had happened? Madara had summoned her, so he was obviously alive, but perhaps… Ayana did not have any of her medicines or poultices with her. She would not be able to act as a medic. Besides which, Madara had more qualified healers in his clan, so why would he ask for her.

Following the Uchiha Shinobi, Ayana was able to distinguish the chakra around her more clearly. One was much stronger than the rest, covering the entire camp in it's power. The intense energy was painfully raw, but familiar. It was Madara's. Her hand grabbed her throat, tears pricking at her eyes. Despair and agony filled that normally vibrant power, and so much pain that she couldn't even comprehend it. The Shinobi lead her to a tent and shoved her inside. Falling through the flap, Ayana fell to her knees, hands flying forward to secure her landing. Her palms landed on cold flesh, stiffened with the unmistakable feel of death. Pulling her hands back like they burned, Ayana bit her lip, lifting her face to the only other person in the room.

"… Not Izuna. Please, tell me it isn't your brother." She begged in a breathless whisper. Only silent suffering answered her. Covering her mouth, Ayana let her tears fall as she reached out, following the unnaturally cold arm up to a solid shoulder. Her questing fingers paused at his head, where a cloth had been lain over his face. Clenching her hand against Izuna's lifeless shoulder, Ayana choked back her sob. No matter how intense her pain was, it was nothing compared to the bottomless pit of despair Madara was falling through.

"How?" She croaked.

"… Tobirama Senju, Hashirama's brother. He's… a master of crafting new and dangerous jutsu." Madara answered shortly, his voice devoid of all emotion. The Uchiha felt so deeply, the complete lack of feeling frightened Ayana. Madara had to grieve. If he did not express the pain inside him, it would twist and corrupt him from the inside out. She couldn't stand to watch his pure heart become darkened. But, how was she going to be able to break through the sorrow and anger in his heart?

"… Why am I here, Madara? I can comfort you if you wish, but – " Before she could finish speaking, Madara spoke.

"I took Izuna's eyes. It was his dying wish. With the transplant, my vision will be restored, and my sharingan eternal. I will finally have the power to defeat Hashirama." He almost crooned the words, clearly savoring the thought of being able to dispose of his one-time friend, long-time rival. Ayana shook her head.

"Madara, no. Hasn't there been enough death?" She whispered, trying not to wonder about what taking someone's eyes entailed. How would that even work? And… why did the thought that Madara had gained more power make her want to cry even harder?

"Do not question me, Ayana. I had you brought here to monitor my recovery. The clan was able to transplant the eyes, but the healing and recovery has to be natural, so I will need your expertise. Once I am fully healed, I will be destroying Hashirama. Until that time, you will stay here, with the clan." He declared, voice cold. Ayana shivered. Why was he being so distant? He spoke to her as a stranger. Where had her lover gone? Would she ever see the loving, gentle Madara again?

"I take it I have no choice in this?" She asked it like a question, but they both knew it was a statement of fact. She felt Madara's dark amusement flicker against her skin briefly, before he once more shut her out, keeping himself cloaked in the sorrow and rage like a shield.

"No. I will not lose… you will stay here." He tripped over his words, but quickly corrected himself. To Ayana, though, that slip was enough. Madara was still in there. He was suffering, and uncertain, but trying to be strong for his clan. Now that Izuna was gone, they would look to him more than ever. She had no doubt he was shouldering a burden far beyond what she could hope to comprehend.

Getting to her feet softly, Ayana walked around where Izuna's body lay. Kneeling beside Madara, she reached out and encircled his body with her arms. Instead of pulling him to her, she rested her body against his, head on his shoulder. His entire body shuddered in her grip, but he still kept himself still, trying not to react. Ayana lifted a hand and gently ran it through his air, feeling the cloth tied around his head. Covering his eyes.

"I won't go anywhere, Madara. I will stay at your side." She swore, vowing more to herself silently. Until she restored Madara to his true self, until she reawakened that kind heart he possessed, she would not stray far from him. Ayana knew she couldn't go into battle with him, nor could she stand at his side during clan meetings, but she would offer love and support.

At her words, Madara suddenly turned, gripping her tightly as he buried his face against her shoulder. Warm dampness spread against her skin, but he made no sound even as his entire body shook with the force of her silent sobs. Ayana just held him, accepting his pain and anger without question. She didn't lie, couldn't whisper platitudes. But, she suspected Madara wouldn't want her to, anyway. So, she just held him, silently and lovingly.

She sensed someone approaching, but before she could say anything, Madara sat upright and turned so his back was facing the entrance. When the Shinobi ducked it, it would appear that Madara had been talking to her, nothing more. With her own face damp with tears, any casual observer would assume that the dampness on her clothes came from her own tears. For that reason, Ayana did not wipe her eyes, or stop the fresh tears from falling.

"Lord Madara, the list of those who are missing." The shinobi spoke hesitantly, parchment rustling in his grip. Madara scoffed.

"They aren't missing. If they aren't among the dead or wounded, then they have turned traitor and joined Hashirama." He spat. Izuna had told her about the defectors, but this was the first time she had felt Madara's pain at it. Folding her hands in her lap, she kept her thoughts to herself. Nothing she could say would do anyone any good.

"Most likely. Our numbers are small, my Lord. Perhaps it wouldn't be unwise to consider –" Before the brave Shinobi could finish that thought, Madara's burning chakara rolled out, making both the Shinobi and Ayana flinch back in fear.

"We will not accept peace from the ones who have murdered my brothers. I won't. Now, leave!" Madara barked, sending the Shinobi scuttling from the tent. Ayana fought to breath past the fear clogging her throat. Even though she wanted to run screaming from Madara as well, she couldn't leave him lost in so much anger. Licking her lips, she reached out and touched Madara's hand.

He slapped her fingers away, refusing her offer of comfort. "Leave, Ayana. I wish to be with Izuna alone. The others will show you to my tent." He dismissed her absently. Forcing herself not to speak, she stood. Was her life to be only at his beck and call from now on? The very thought made her want to scream at him, but she knew it would do no good. Madara had made up his mind. He was stronger than her, so even if she fought him, she would never win. She would have to try to change his mind passively.

When she stepped out of the tent, Ayana felt the eyes of the Uchiha on her once again. They would never accept her, especially now that Izuna was gone. Madara represented the strength of the clan. He would be expected to produce heirs to inherit his powerful abilities and strategies. To do that, he would be required towed. She was unsuitable to fulfill the role of his wife. Not only was she not a Shinobi, but she had no traceable bloodlines. Even worse, she had no powers, and was blind.

Lifting her chin, Ayana spoke. "Madara wishes to be left alone. I've been asked to oversee his healing. Please direct me to his tent." She ignored the low whispers and muttered commendations. In their eyes, she was probably just a woman their leader bedded. The worst part was, they weren't completely wrong, even though Ayana wished otherwise. The only way she could change their outlook towards her was with her actions.

Finally, the same Shinobi who had taken her to the Uchiha camp approached her. He silently grabbed her arm and dragged her after him again. As expected, Madara's tent wasn't too far away. It was mere feet from where he cloistered himself away with his deceased brother. She paused outside Madara's tent, facing the Shinobi head on.

"I will need my medicine and my tools from my home. Please send someone to retrieve them." She asked.

"We will do no such thing. You are here on Lord Madara's request, nothing more. If he wishes to ease his pain with a woman like you, we won't judge, but the Uchiha clan is the strongest for a reason. We won't allow weaklings to taint our bloodline." He sneered. Ayana sighed., then turned back towards the tent where Madara mourned. Lifting her hands up around her mouth, she drew in a deep breath.

"Madara! I need my supplies to help!" She shouted at the top of her lungs.

"Then have someone go get them!" He snapped back from inside the tent, bad mood leaking through to stain his words. Even so, Ayana smiled as she dropped her hands and turned towards the Shinobi. Her Madara was still in there, somewhere. Cursing, the man gave her a shove towards Madara's tent before leaping away.

"The satchel bag by the entry way, as well as the grinder and tools on the table!" She called after him. Still smiling, she slipped inside the tent. Once the flap fell down, she let out a deep breath. Her heart was thumping in her throat, the beat racing in time to her nerves. Clenching her shaking fingers, she ambled around the space. Her foot bumped into metal plates laying on the ground, sending her crashing to the ground.

"Ow!" She yelped, pulling her foot up reflexively to rub it. Tentatively reaching out her hands, she felt along the edges of what had tripped her. She felt the familiar cool plates of the armor Madara usually wore. Because it was metal, and not living, she hadn't been able to sense it when she tried to move around. Pursing her lips, Ayana started crawling around on her knees with her hands stretched out in front of her. She slowly made her way around, questing fingers finding clothing tosses aside in piles around the space. Folding them, Ayana piled them next to the armor and kept moving around.

Her head cracked against something, sending a heavy shaft clattering down on top of her head. Screeching, she reached up, feeling what appeared to be a sturdy wooden shaft with firm fibrous fan-like edges on it. Ayana frowned, moving out from under it. Was this some sort of weapon? Madara had always utilized a sword in all the time she'd known him, and was very good with the weapon. Shrugging, she settled the weapon back against what it had been propped against.

The bed.

Ayana climbed to her feet, using the bed to guide her. The scent of Madara rose from the scratchy fabrics covering the pallet, making her flush. Stepping away from the bed, Ayana crossed her arms and gnawed on her lip. Though Izuna's death was horrible, she couldn't resurrect the dead. What she could do was treat the living. But, the Uchiha did not trust her. How, then, would she be able to help them?

Head whipping around, she realized what she needed to do. Striding confidently from the tent, Ayana marched back over to the tent where Madara sat with Izuna. Throwing the flap open, she stuck her head in, instantly feeling the grief and anger washing over her when Madara noticed her.

"… I thought I told you to leave?" He growled. Ayana nodded.

"I know. Madara, you must have more wounded. I can help. Surely you still have some of my medicines here, and the shinobi you sent to fetch me will soon return with more. You know better than anyone that my medical skills are no joke. Let me help." She stated it, instead of asking. With Madara, asking never garnered the response she wanted.

He did not answer her, but she felt Madara rise to his feet and walk closer. Grabbed her shoulder, he pushed her back outside the tent, stepping to her side. Despite his clansmen staring at them, he never removed his hand. Tightening his grip on her, Madara spoke with a tone Ayana had never heard before. It was controlled and emotionless, authoritative enough to make even her back shiver.

"Take her to the healer's tent and assist her. She will be tending the wounded." He barked, dropping his hand from her without saying anything more. As he disappeared once again, though, Ayana realized he didn't have to say anything else. The Shinobi around her did not question Madara at all. She felt great respect in the energy surrounding her, but also fear. Madara was controlling his clan by only using his raw power and strength, not his kind heart. She shook her head. How was she going to make him realize that brute force would never change anything?

Holding her concerns inside, Ayana allowed herself to be lead away, to where pain and fear bleed together until Ayana felt choked by the chakra. Pushing it aside, she stepped bravely into the row of temporary shelters where the wounded were being housed.

"Take me to the one's who need immediate attention. I may not have the ability to control chakra like your healers, but I can sterilize and treat wounds and illnesses. My medicines must be here somewhere; bring them to me." She commanded, knowing only confidence and forward behavior would serve her here. Without waiting, Ayana approached a cot where she felt a young life flickering.

Kneeling beside it, she reached out and grabbed the limp hand there, stretching her senses out. The youth was male, suffering from multiple lacerations from bladed weapons as well as some sort of poison that was making his blood flow sluggish and thick. Dropping the hand, she turned to where the other medical ninja stood around, staring at her.

"I need my medicine! 'Tis poison that torments this boy, not the slashes. Treat the threat first, then tend the wounds." She snapped, gratified when two Shinobi jumped at her words. They rushed around, bringing her the baskets and bags she had been sending medicine to the Uchiha with. Reaching in, she felt the numerous packets and vials, fingers brushing over them until she found the one she wanted. Untying the pouch, she poured some powder into her palm.

"Water." She was gratified when a small bamboo tube was shoved into her hands. Dropping the powder in, Ayana shook the drinking tube until it was mixed, then turned to the boy. Propping him up by his shoulders, she set the medicated water against his lips and held his nose before tipping it up. Gagging and choking, the young man swallowed about half the medicine down. Satisfied, Ayana allowed him to lay back, still coughing.

"Now you may tend his wounds; the poison shall soon pass from his body, so if he needs to defecate or urinate frequently, do not alarm. On to the next." Ayana moved before anyone could stop her. She knew if the boy died, she would be killed for poisoning him. However, if he survived, they wouldn't trust her, but they would make use of her skills. Until then, she would move forward with confidence alone.

To support Madara, she was going to need all the courage and strength she possessed. Pushing her anxiety and fear aside, Ayana picked up the next patient's wrist and got to work.

Chapter Six

Ayana bit her lip to keep from crying out, entire body shaking as Madara pined her against the rough bark of the tree. His entire body was vibrating with power and energy, but also something that had been lacking for far too long. Inside him swirled… hope. Something must have happened when he left to confront Hashirama earlier, she was certain of it. Ever since he'd recovered from having Izuna's eyes transplanted into him, Madara had been like a man possessed, spending all his time and energy on training until his energy nearly destroyed the Uchiha camp. Only once he had unleashed a power so potent and terrifying that his own clan cowered before him had he rushed off to what Ayana feared would be his death.

Yet, here he was in front of her, not only alive, but changed. The pall that had hung over him for so long was gone, and the tender lover she remember from their joining before Izuna's death had taken over again. Shoving her hands against Madara's chest, she pushed with all her might.

"What. Happened?" She grunted, turning her face away when he bent closer. Chuckling in his throat, Madara grabbed her chin and forced her to face him, burning gaze scorching across her skin. She shuddered, licking her lips. How was he so potent? How was he able to affect her so much? Leaning in, he claimed her mouth in a burning kiss. Ayana froze against him. Madara had not kissed her, or even so much as touched her, since Izuna died. Though she slept in his tent, he never joined her in the bed there. Outside of her treatment of his eyes, Madara was cold and remote, like he was trying to deny that they had ever once joined together in an intimate dance. Now, though, she tasted his hunger against her lips as he slowly nipped and licked her mouth.

"I saw inside Hashirama's heart. His dream and mine, from when we were kids, he still believes in it. We are going to build a village. Together, we will forge an alliance between the clans in this land, so that no more wars kill our brothers and children. He wants to make a school to teach young Shinobi how to survive, safely and securely. I… I will make the village safe, so that women like you can be protected." It all burst out of Madara at once, a rush of words and emotion that washed over Ayana like rain after a long drought. Tears pricked at her eyes. Her gentle lover was back.

Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around his body, squeezing him tightly. He went stiff in her grasp, but then held her even closer, cheek pressed against hers. They clung to one another, so close that not even the wind could sneak between them. After a long while, though, he pulled away. Ayana let him, smiling as his hand slid down her arm and laced through with hers. She allowed him to pull her after him, steps light as they stepped through the forest together. He moved stiffly, but the pain of his battle with Hashirama was fading. She would treat him when they returned to the Uchiha camp. For now, his happiness was more important to her.

Madara lead her gently, helping her over stones that might have tripped her. Eventually, they stepped out of the forest to a spot she knew well. The river gurgled gently in the fresh air, stones surrounding it smoothed by water and time. Breath catching in her throat, she stepped back from him to dance around in a circle.

It was there river.

"Madara, why – " Before she could finish asking him, gloved hands grabbed her by the hips and yanked her back into his hold. Standing behind her, Madara was only a breath or two taller than her, but she felt surrounded by him. Heat and power flowed over her, but she was not frightened of it. Rather, she felt safe. Protected. Madara would kill anyone who was foolish enough to try and harm her. She knew that well. Melting into his arms, Ayana tipped her head up, hand rising to trace his beautiful face.

"This village, it will even have space for me?" She whispered, feeling his smile against the pads of her fingers.

"Of course. It will unify trade between the clans and the civilian villages, increasing commerce, and benefiting both. Non-Shinobi will be welcome to help run this. Hashirama has amazing healing abilities, but they cannot be taught to anyone. Your medicine, however, can save lives and be learned by Shinobi and civilian alike. You could be an instructor." He seemed pleased by the idea, sitting by the river with her in his lap. Ayana laughed gaily, shaking her head.

"No one would trust a blind medic, Madara." She teased.

"Oh? Then my clansmen must be an exception. In the time you've treated my eyes, I have heard their opinion change from hating you to actively seeking your advice on medical matters." He was quick to defend her skills. Ayana glowed at his praise. He was not an easy man to impress; in fact, only Hashirama Senju had earned his respect and admiration. But he saw her skill and acknowledged it.

"It might not have hurt that you threatened to burn anyone who tried to touch me or evict me after your… Itama was his name, wasn't it? After you killed him for his torment of me, they kept their distance." She remarked, reaching down to grab his hand and start to pull the leather gloves he always wore, off.

Madara fell silent, watching her slim fingers sliding against his skin. Once she had his hand freed, she lifted the scarred flesh to her lips and pressed light kisses against his broad palm. Shifting in his lap, Ayana twined her arm around his neck, playing absently with his thick, luxurious hair. It wasn't fair, that he had more glorious locks than she would ever be able to grow. Her curls were thick, but nowhere near as voluminous or soft as Madara's mane.

When he gripped her chin again, Ayan readily lifted her face. She wanted him to kiss her. The memory of the pleasure he'd given her, the night they'd joined, was painful. Thought it was embarrassing to admit, she wanted to feel his heat and passion again. Smug confidence laced his chuckle as he leaned down, slowly sliding his lips over hers. She sighed, melted into his body as he languorously licked and tasted her entire mouth.

His free hand shifted down from her hips, tracing along the hem of her dress before slipping beneath it. She shivered at the contact, his boiling heat and uncontrollable energy lancing through her so much it was almost painful. But, she wanted more. The amount of contact wasn't enough. Her body itched and ached. She wanted his entire heat pressed against her, inside of her. Letting out a low groan, she allowed her hand to fall into the collar of his simple tunic.

"Madara, my friend, there you are! I was afraid you wouldn't be able to make it back to your clan after –" A startling familiar, boisterous voice boomed over them, causing Ayana to freeze. A deep growl rumbled out of Madara, heating Ayana even as it made her heart stutter in surprise. Energy flickered in the air around them.

"Hashirama, you complete and utter fool, you are interrupting us!" Madara roared, bending down and grabbing a smooth stone from the river bank. His body jerked as he threw it in the direction of the voice. Ayana covered her face to hide her embarrassment, and her laughter.

"Oh… I'm so sorry. I am worthless. You may strike me again, to make yourself feel better." Ayana's head jerked up at the sudden and abrupt change in Hashirama's tone. He had gone from vibrant and full of life to depressed and meek in an instant.

Madara sighed, straightening Ayana's dress before gently setting her aside and climbing to his feet, "You dolt. Enough, it's fine. I'm not that injured. You merely wore me out. As I am, I cannot activate my Sharingan, but I can still defend myself if I need to. Ayana will take care of the rest." He explained.

"Ayana...? Oh! It is the young maiden I saved, from the stabbing. I am glad to see you are well. It was true, then, that you knew Madara." Hashirama's powerful voice rolled over her again. Ayana blinked, finally remembering where she had heard his exhaustively bright voice before. The man was making her tired, trying to keep up with his mood swings. But, despite his questionable personality, his power was potently evident. Even though he was just standing next to Madara, relaxed and joking, his immense strength simmered under the surface, probably stronger than even Madara's. This was the man who was able to more than match a man so feared, his very name caused Shinobi to flee. Hashirama Senju was dangerous, despite his upbeat personality.

"… Ayana?" Madara's dark question made her flinch, but she didn't hide. Folding her hands in her lap, she lifted her face.

"He saved me, but that is all. I never even knew his name until just now." She replied mildly, arching her brow. Madara stalked over to her side, kneeling and grabbing her chin. Forcing her face up, she felt him peering intently into her eyes. She waited. There was no lie to be found; she'd spoken the truth, after all.

"I have no designs on that lady, Madara." Hashirama insisted, earning another scathing look from Madara that had him wilting into depression. Ayana giggled. Releasing her chin, Madara stood and faced his friend again. His energy was gentle and calm, like it had been when… her throat caught. It was the same feeling she'd gotten from him whenever he'd been with Izuna. Hashirama was important to her Shinobi.

"I'll trust you. For now, return to your clan. I will have to gather the Uchiha, then we will meet at the cliff face in a week's time. With your wood release, building the infrastructure of the village shouldn't be that hard." Madara's light words went over Ayana's head, but they made Hashirama even more depressed.

"My wood style is my only worth to you…?" He whined.

"No! Now, leave, you blithering idiot!" Madara yelled, chasing his friend, now laughing, away. Hashirama made Madara let go of his emotionless façade, and allowed him to be himself. Not even she was able to do that. Madara had blocked her out, denied the emotions between them after Izuna's death, but Hashirama was able to reach inside Madara and pull them out.

"Lord Hashirama!" Ayana's call after the Shinobi had them both freezing, "I am looking forward to the village you two shall build together." At her words, both men burst out laughing. Hearing it, Ayana smiled. Her Madara was completely back. She was going to make certain he never left her again.

That vow in mind, she stood and walked out into the river, holding her dress up above her knees. Kicking the water, she laughed happily. She froze when she felt a powerful gaze burning against her exposed ankles. Turning, she faced the direction the gaze was coming from. Having chased his friend away, Hashirama stood on the edge of the riverbank, just watching her.

"My home is not far from here. I can treat your wounds there, and… then, we can stay there tonight." She spoke softly, face flushing crimson at the daring of her words. He crossed his arms, smirking at her.

"Oh? You want to dance again?" His deep voice was smooth and sensual, rubbing against her senses almost like a caress. Swallowing hard, Ayana nodded. She remembered all that Madara had done to her the last time they'd danced. It had been wonderfully embarrassing, intense and indescribable. Though it was surely wrong to desire something so much, Ayana wanted to experience it all again.

Madara sloshed into the river, easily hoisting her over his shoulder. The breath whooshed out of her as his hard shoulder drove into her stomach, but she was too busy laughing to really care about it. Threading her fingers into his hair, she held on as he ran with the unbelievable swiftness that was so effortless for all Shinobi. In less time than it would take her walk to the house, Madara was kicking the door open and striding through the branches, tossing her willingly down onto the pallet that had lost some of it's freshness. She hadn't returned to her home since being taken to Madara, but she wasn't afraid of any animals being inside. Ayana had buried herbs that repelled beasts and insects in her pallet and around her home. Sometimes, her travels took her away for herbs, and so she wanted her home free when she came back.

Now, though, she could care less about her slightly stale home or the mustiness of the bedding. Ayana lifted her arms up imploringly to Madara. The Shinobi refused to follow her wishes, though, standing beside the bed and staring at her. His gaze was heavy on her, making Ayana squirm. She couldn't help but recall how he'd made her bare herself and beg that last time they were together in her bed. No doubt, there would be a repeat performance tonight.

"You're gong to make me embarrassed again, aren't you?" She whispered with a smile. Madara chuckled, suddenly touching her smooth cheeks with bare skin. His skin was always so hot, burning with power and strength. Starved for his caress, not expecting it, Ayana flinched, but then grabbed his calloused hand and snuggled her face into his wide palm. His fingers slid around her face before his grip strengthened, grabbing her chin. Used to his manner, Ayana lifted her face without any resistance.

His thick hair spilled across her face as he sealed his mouth over hers. There was no gentle coaxing or tender nips for her this time. His tongue shoved in deeply, twining along hers and sliding to the back of her mouth. Their breath and saliva mingled, but she didn't care, straining against the powerful kiss. She arched her body upwards, urgently rolling her hips in an attempt to entice him down towards her. His hard, sweltering body remained hovering over her form, though, held up by his strong arm not currently controlling her face.

Madara lifted his lips away from Ayana, chuckling as he peered at her flushed face. Whining in her throat, Ayana slid her hands up his shoulders to his neck, tugging his hair a little. Shifting, he sat on the bed next to her, weight enough to cause her body to roll towards him unexpectantly. She felt his hand on her ankle, fluttering the edges of her dress skirt.

"Ayana, pull this up and spread your legs for me. I want to see it all." He demanded. Ayana shivered at the dark passion in his voice, but not in fear. His possession and power were all hers, and she loved feeling his gaze and desire against her skin. Swallowing hard, Ayana reached down and grabbed her skirt, bunching it in her fists as she slowly lifted it until she had the worn fabric scrunched up on her tummy.

Her entire body burned with heart, but she didn't stop. Even as she was embarrassed, she felt heated desire pooling inside her, making her thighs clench and inner muscles shiver with the need for something to grab onto. Ayana's hands only trembled a little as she slipped her loincloth down her legs, flinging the fabric away with a flick of her foot. Drawing in a shuddering breath, Ayana lifted her legs up and set her feet far apart, knees falling open to reveal her womanhood.

"… Yes. That's it." Madara breathed, running his hands up and down her inner thighs with strong, possessive touches. His shoulders forced her legs open wider as he leaned down, blowing hot air over her slit. Ayana groaned, low in her throat, hips shifting anxiously. Her cheeks flamed as creamy wetness squirted out of her body out of her control. Seeing it, Madara grabbed her by her bottom, squeezing her firm gluts tightly as he pulled her towards him, legs falling over his shoulders. He now had limitless access to her womanhood, her body held open for his pleasure.

"Madara!" Ayana whined, body straining upwards when his mouth suddenly covered her womanhood, hot tongue sliding into her open slit. Her thighs spasmed on his shoulders, but he kept her spread as he tongued her, licking up the wetness that seeped from her body. One of his hands shifted from her backside, slipping around to where his mouth played, fingers sliding into the fray. She groaned when one of his thick fingers slipped into her wanting opening. Her muscles clenched around his digit instantly, but it wasn't enough. She wanted something longer and thicker. Her inner channels rippled, desperate for stimulation and pleasure. Feeling it, Madara chuckled, the vibration of his mouth on her ratcheting her pleasure up higher.

Ayana reached down and fisted her hands in his thick hair, tugging as her head trashed around. It was painfully wonderful, the desire in her body slowly rising higher, every inch of her body thrumming with passion. Her nipples hurt with the need to be played with, her depths aching to be filled. With Madara, her modesty vanished, replaced by a wanton creature that demanded pleasure.

"Stop pulling my hair." He growled, lifting his head and drawing away from her body. Ayana whimpered, but dropped her hands. She drew her long legs down from his shoulders, rolling over onto her side and pressing her legs together. Madara shifted on the bed, clothing rustling as he removed it. Once he was naked, he grabbed her arm, pulling her upright. Ayana squeaked, not expecting the move. Her body shivered as she fell into his lab, burning body pressing against the scalding strength of his. She sighed at the pleasure.

His fingers grabbed her chin. "Now then, Ayana, this time I want you to dance with me more. Play with my fire." He purred, snagging her other hand and bringing it down to where his heated desire stood proud. Ayana gasped, fingers twitching uncertainly at the unfamiliar feel of his arousal against her palm. Madara molded his hand over hers, forcing her to grab him tightly. He released her chin to wrap his arm around her back, locking her body in tightly against his. Then, he forced her to stroke him, shaft slipping through their combined hands like a heated velvet blade. Ayana bit her lip.

"I don't know what I'm doing." She hissed, leaning forward to nip his collarbone. Madara let out a sigh at her aggressive bite, shaft jumping and thickening inside their hands. He leaned in, mouth latching onto the side of her neck and biting, hard. Ayana squeaked, feeling his teeth digging into her skin. It hurt, but at the same time, made her body liquify. She knew that would leave a mark.

"Then learn. Hurry up." Madara declared, removing his hand so that she was fisting his shaft on her own. Ayana swallowed hard, fingers barely able to span him at his base. It was so alien to her, but at the same time, she loved it. Ayana could sense the blood pumping through his member, and his breathing changed slightly with each twitch of her hand on his mighty shaft. He was enjoying it as much as she was. The thought of being able to please him, of giving him pleasure unlike any he'd experienced before, drove Ayana forward, gave her courage.

She tightened her fist and started moving it slowly up and down his member, varying the power in her squeeze. Madara buried his face against her neck, teeth scrapping and biting at her skin roughly. Ayana lifted her free hand to his head, scrapping her nails through his hair to gently scratch his scalp. He almost purred in her arms, if he'd been the kind of man to do so. Instead, though, he bit her hard again, on her shoulder.

"You're leaving too many marks." She whispered, dancing her fingers around on his shaft, rubbing the leaking slit on top with her thumb.

"No such thing. As my woman, you will always wear my marks with pride." He bit her again to make his point clear, sucking on the bite until Ayana felt the skin flush in his mouth. She pressed her legs together tighter as her desire flared higher.

"Madara, seriously…" She whimpered, letting go of his shaft to grab his head with both hands, pulling him back. He reluctantly allowed her to move him, eyes heavy as he gazed at her. Cupping his face, Ayana leaned in, kissing his chin and nose, his cheeks and his eyes before licking once at his lips. She was tired of waiting. Her body needed him, and from what she'd felt of his arousal, he was ready, too. It had been far too long since they'd joined together as one. The months of being close but not touching had tormented her.

He apparently felt the same way. Madara grabbed her hips and pulled her forward in his lap. She bit her lip, feeling his brand against her thigh, smearing her with heated desire. Ayana wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing her face against his neck. He chuckled, guiding his shaft to her opening. He nudged against her, but made no move to push home.

"You do it, Ayana." He whispered hotly against her hair. Ayana flushed, shaking her head as he rubbed himself against her. He nudged inward a little, only to pull back out. She bit her lip hard, glaring at him as hard as her sightless eyes could. He licked her skin, but made no move to enter her body. He was really going to make her do it.

Holding her breath, she reached down and grabbed him, scooting her hips forward as she pulled him in. Her head fell back as his knotty length speared into her, forcing her body open wide. Gasping for air, Ayana's body clenched on Madara hard enough that it became impossible for him to move for a moment. Shivering, she gulped and panted heavily against his neck. Madara kissed her sweaty temple.

"My medic, that feels good, doesn't it?" He crooned against her skin, spreading his hand against the back of her hips and pushing her forward as he lifted his hips upward. His thickness speared into her, robbing her of all air as she keened out a choked scream. She was full, stuffed, each twitching nerve of her body alight with fire.

"Mm, sing more. Louder." Madara demanded, moving his hips rhythmically against her, touching deeply inside. She clenched tightly around him, nails scoring into his skin. They moved together frantically, hips rolling and bodies straining together. She loved the heated press of his skin, feeling his muscles rippling because of her. His haggard breaths and sweat, she knew they were all for her. The thought made her inner muscles gush and clench.

"Oh, Madara!" She screamed, holding onto him for purchase as her body raced ahead of her. Fire flowed through her veins, but as she drew closer to shattering, her Shinobi slowed down. Shaking her head, she linked her ankles behind his back, refusing to release him. Even so, Madara stopped thrusting, leaving his throbbing length inside her, but not moving as she craved. Whimpering, Ayana tried to roll her hips, but Madara held her still, refusing to allow her to reach completion.

"Now, now, Ayana, don't be so hasty. You know I enjoy a long slow dance. The fun is just beginning." His voice licked against her ear, dark with desire and power. Ayana felt tears prickle her eyes, knowing what was coming for her. Madara was going to keep her riding the painful edge of release for hours, until her body was wrung dry and limp. Only then would he allow her to crash over, explode. And then, he would join her, only for the beautiful torture to start again.

She couldn't wait.

Ayana lifted her lips to his, kissing him with all the turbulent emotions coiling inside of her. Madara allowed it, drinking deeply of her mouth, dominating her completely with his tongue and lips. When she drew away, her tender lips felt swollen and raw, but it was a good feeling. Still secure deep inside of her body, his desire throbbed. His breathing wasn't quite steady, but she felt his smirk against her skin.

"Yes, you know how to step with me. Touch yourself, Ayana. If you show me you want it enough, we may tango yet." He whispered. Ayana closed her eyes, body trembling. He was always going to push her farther than she thought she could go, but he did it to awaken the passion in her. Madara enjoyed knowing that his woman wanted him, would do anything to feel his desire moving within her. He let her unleash her desire completely, and for that she was eternally thankful.

Knowing his red-hot eyes were glued to her hands as Ayana lifted them up and cupped her own small breasts. Giving the tiny mounds a hearty squeeze, Ayana rolled the hard, aching points between her fingers, hissing out a heavy breath as desire zinged right to her core. Pinching her own nipples, Ayana bit her lip against the moan wanting to break out of her throat. She clenched her body on Madara's, muscles rippling over his heat rhythmically. It was titillating, but not enough. She needed him to move.

Her panting was harder, body straining tightly against the hold Madara had on her bony hips, when he suddenly rammed his powerful shaft deep inside of her. A shattered scream roared out of her, entire body going limp as he moved. His probing shaft repeatedly dove deeply inside her creamy sheath, keeping the mewling cries and desire spilling forth from her.

"That's what I want, Ayana. Loose your mind for me." He panted, setting his teeth into her shoulder again. She felt blood welling up from the burning pain, but it only made her body clench tighter on him. Moans and agonized cries of pure desire spilled out of her, filling the small room with sound. He kept moving inside of her, pushing her higher and higher up the edge. She couldn't tell where he was touching her, and where she was, entire body one burning nerve of desire. Drool wet her lips as she threw her head back, screaming out his name as she rose even higher.

Suddenly, he stopped, holding perfectly still as she nearly shattered. Both their bodies were slick and she clenched her thighs around his hips, trying to pull him in deeper. Madara refused to move his hips, though, allowing her only to bath his member with her drenched sheath. Ayana whimpered, needing more.

"Madara… please…" She panted, begging shamelessly to be ravished. He chuckled darkly against her skin, reaching down and pulling his body completely free of her sheath. Ayana whined, desperate hands reaching down to grip his thoroughly slicked shaft, trying to pull him back inside. But, she couldn't move him.

"You're almost there. But, not yet. I know you can sing more for me." Madara's voice was so deep and thick that Ayana almost missed it. He tightened his grip on her hips and flipped her over, making her stretch out on her hands and knees, breasts hanging. Startled, Ayana set her legs apart to keep her balance, allowing him to rise to his knees between them.

When he rammed into her again from behind, Ayana knew she wasn't going to be able to walk in the morning as the scream shattered out of her.

Chapter Seven

"Haven't you heard? Now it's the Hyuuga and the Nara clans joining! This village is going to be unstoppable. We have Lord Hashirama and the Senju, the Hyuuga and their Byakugan, and even that demonic power of the Uchiha clan. None will be able to stop us." Ayana's lips twitched as the gossiping women's words reached her ears. They couldn't see her from her hiding spot near a café in what was rapidly becoming the main road of the village.

As Madara had guessed, Hashirama had laid down the groundwork of the village's infrastructure with his power of wood release, though most of the actually building and designing was being done by the individual Shinobi themselves. By the day, more and more clans that used to fight viciously came, asking Hashirama to join his village. Each clan picked a location and started building a clan home for themselves, based off their personal preferences. The village was expanding rapidly, already setting up trade with outside civilian settlements to support their growing population.

Even Ayana had come. Though her home in the forest was where she was most comfortable, Madara had asked her to come to the village. She hadn't been able to deny him. He wanted her safe, and knew that the village was the safest she was going to get. A small house on the far edge of the vilalge was all she'd needed. To her amusement, Madara and Hashirama had both worked together to build her house, though they hadn't been able to agree on most anything. Ayana had been forced to mediate between the two men, realizing quickly that most everyone else was either too awed or frightened of them to do anything.

To be honest, Ayana wasn't comfortable in the shinobi village. She felt her differences keenly, and often found her mind flashing back to when she attempted to live in a village in the past. Unease rolled near constantly in her stomach. Ayana pressed her hands against her abdomen. She had not been feeling well since she had made the move, the restlessness a near constant companion. Madara and Hashirama had both noticed, hovering over her more than usual and treating her like she was made of spun glass. Ayana found it endearing, but at the same time, she wished the two powerful men would find someone else to fret over.

"Ayana!" Almost like thinking of them summoned them, Ayana heard her named called by a boisterous voice. Closing her eyes, Ayana cursed her luck under her breath before pasting a pleasant smile to her face. She turned and waited for Hashirama to reach her side. She heard people whispering in awe as he drew closer, bowing and reverently watching him walk through the street. Hashirama was unaware of the amazed effect he had on the other Shinobi, smile filling with energy as he reached Ayana. As he always did, he stepped close enough for her to sense, but not touch, careful to position himself in case he needed to guide her along or catch her if she stumbled. Unlike Madara, Hashirama couldn't fight his need to assist her because of her blind eyes.

"Lord Hashirama, good day. Are you on your way to the Uzumaki Clan home again? Rumors are flying about you and Lady Mito. I've heard from at least twelve different Shinobi today that you two are sneaking out together nearly every night." Ayana teased, feeling his embarrassment blaze out from him.

"I wish people would leave my personal life alone. I envy you and Madara, Ayana." He grumped, nudging her onward by stepping silently closer to her. She started walking reluctantly, keeping an easy pace.

"You're not scary enough, Hashirama. Madara frightens people just by breathing, so they try to avoid him. No one wants to gossip about him because they fear he'd retaliate." Ayana explained with a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. Hashiarama sighed.

"True, though I wish it weren't so. He doesn't deserve the fear that is directed his way. This villages' safety depends in part on Madara's power," Hashirama muttered, reaching out to clap Ayana on her shoulder, "Anyway, I'm on my way to meet up with Madara. We are going to observe the Shinobi children at the Academy. Would you like to join us?

Ayana shook her head. "No, thank you. I'm not a Shinobi, so I have no right to go there. I'm rather budy, anyway. I need to work on making more medicine." She replied, trying to speak normally as her throat squeezed a little in anxiety. Ayana hated how out of place she was in the Shinobi village. It was an insidious feeling, one she couldn't get rid of even though she knew there was no reason for her to be feeling so… depressed and weary. She needed to overcome the insecurity on her own, and she was trying. To combat it, Ayana had opened a medical clinic that kept her busy most days. With her mind occupied, she had less time to fret over her place in the village. At night, though, when she was often alone in her bed, the darkness crept into her heart again.

"It is true that your medicine is very much in demand. Well, enjoy youreslf Ayana." Hashirama called, giving her one more clap on the back before heading off. Blowing out a breath, Ayana turned and headed back the way she'd come. She hadn't wanted Madara or Hashirama to know, but she was meeting up with someone today. As she neared the café she'd been hovering near, Ayana felt an intense amount of chakra energy, well controlled and contained, waiting for her. Licking her lips, she approached the source of the power with an apprehensive smile.

"Lady Mito. I am honored you would ask to see me." She bowed as she spoke, able to feel the gentle heart that resided inside the women who was rumored to have caught the attention of a man many considered to be a god.

"Nonsense, Ayana. I am just happy you agreed to meet with me. And, please, it's just Mito." She said, voice as cultured and mannered as Ayana had expected. From what her eavesdropping around the village had revealed, Mito was a high-class Shinobi woman, considered a princess in her own clan for the overwhelming unique power she contained and control she utilized over it. Her clan was, if Ayana understood the rumors correctly, related to the Senju's, and not to be trifled with. Her stomach rolled and twisted while her heart stuttered in her chest, but she tried to hide it. Sitting down, Ayana folded her hands in her lap and waited, trying to mask her anxiety behind a serene façade.

When she had gotten the missive from Mito Uzumaki, Ayana hadn't known what to expect. Why would the Uzumaki princess want to speak with her, specifically? In the village, people either avoided Ayana, or treated her like a regular civilian. Her connection to the powerful Hashirama and Madara was only known to a very select few within the village, but maybe Mito had heard some of the distasteful rumors floating around?

Mito drawing in a deep breath caught Ayana's attention. "I… I asked to see you because, as a woman who is lovers with a powerful and feared Shinobi, there are things only you can understand. I want to talk to you about how you are able to balance being Madara Uchiha's woman with your own life. Hashirama has asked for my hand and I just… need to work it out in my mind." Mito blurted out, making Ayana's eyes grow wide.

"Hashirama asked to marry you? And didn't bungle it up? I am impressed. That must be why he asked me for lessons on how to be romantic, though I feared them wasted on him at times." Ayana leaned forward, uncaring of her rude words. Mito stared at her hard, then broke into delighted, lighthearted laughter. Ayana blinked, not expecting that response.

"Forgive me, but that proves Madara was right. You really don't care about clans or power; you speak so casually about Hashirama I can see that he is just a man to you." Mito giggled again, reaching out to grab Ayana's hands in both her own. Ayana stiffened instantly, but the woman controlled her chakra well. The mass of power did not overwhelm her. It washed through Ayana like a gentle summer breeze, revealing the calm soul of the Shinobi who controlled it. Mito was powerful, and Ayana sensed a volcano sleeping within her, but she was a good person.

"I approached Madara first for advice, as he is Hashirama's best friend, but… he told me to talk to you. According to him, you understand best what it means to support someone. I admit, it took me by surprise when he told me he was your lover. The Uchiha value clan lines more than most, so I was shocked to learn a woman without a clan had captured the Uchiha head." Mito continued, rapidly leaving Ayana behind in the conversation.

"Lady Mito, please, hold on. You went to Madara to ask about how to marry Hashirama?" She repeated, confused. Why in the world would anyone think that was a good idea? Even now, with the village being built and his relationship with Hashirama restored, Madara still had difficulty with his emotions. He was still distant at times, even with her. It was done out of fear, Ayana knew. He never wanted to feel the pain of loss again, so he held himself apart. That was part of the reason he was so feared within the village. Unlike Hashirama, who left his heart out for anyone to see, Madara hid himself. People couldn't trust him because Madara did not trust them.

Mito shook her head. "I'm not that daft, Ayana. I went to Madara to see what he thought I should do about my life. I told him that I didn't want to just become Hashirama's wife. I want to be more than that. Madara directed me to you. I… I did look into it first, of course. I learned you are a medical specialist in the village, creating medicines and techniques that even the Shinobi Medics use. But I never found your name in connection with Madara. Which tells me, you have figured out how to live your life outside of being his wife."

Ayana sighed, pulling her hands free and turning her face away. "It's not so grand as that, Lady Mito. I am not wed to Madara. His clan, they won't accept me. I have no lineage or power in my bloodlines, and even worse, I am blind. They hope to one day have Madara marry one of their women. To keep his clan quiet, Madara doesn't marry me, or anyone, but I know the elders are waiting for the day when Madara leaves me to have him carry out his duty as clan head. So, I'm afraid there is no secret to keeping myself separate from Madara. I'm not his, so I have to live my own life." She admitted, feeling her heart clenching tightly in her chest. Though she knew how Madara felt about her, Ayana could not shake the insidious feeling that he was going to leave her behind one day from her heart. It shamed her, but she could not, would not, hide that from someone seeking assurance and advice. Mito was quiet for a moment.

"No, you are wrong. Madara himself said you were his lover, and that you could advise me. I saw you earlier, with Hashirama. You're able to talk normally with him. You share a bed with Madara Uchiha. Don't you know how extraordinary that is? How do you not get overwhelmed by them?" She stated it as a question, but Ayana got the feeling Mito wasn't waning an actual answer. She wanted Ayana to look at herself.

Why was she able to be so relaxed around the two Shinobi? Their power was devastating and she could see it with her senses all the time. But, it had never once made her afraid or uncertain. Their strength existed to protect those around them, and that was what colored the energy she was surrounded by when she was near them. As such, she was never frightened of them. They were just two men to her. Plus, their clan and abilities were not important to her. Ayana simply did not care about that. To her, their hearts were what was important.

She smiled, feeling a little of the doubt plaguing her leaving at last.

"I see. Thank you, Mito. I think I know the answer to your question now. You love Hashirama, right?" Ayana waited for her companion to nod before continuing, "Well, then it is very simple. He is just Hashirama to you, and that is all he wants to be. He doesn't wish to be treated as some sort of god. Just treat him like a normal person and I promise you will never just be 'his wife.' You'll be the legend that drives his own forward." She said, giving the woman's hand a squeeze.

"Hm, I see. You are very wise, Ayana," Mito mused, pulling back and smiling at her, "Now, I hope you do not mind, but I simply must know. Madara… what is he like as a lover? In the time I have known him, I don't think I have ever seen him smile even once." At Mito's whispered words, Ayana let out a bright laugh. Mito was a proper shinobi princess, with a serene and calm chakra, but beneath it all, she had a bright and humorous personality that just exuded love and compassion. Ayana could sense that they were getting along just fine.

"I have no one to compare him to, but I do not think him so terrible. I will admit, Madara needs to work on his interpersonal skills, and opening up, but he has a good heart. All he truly wants, more so than even Lord Hashirama, is for everyone to be happy. No more wars or battles, no more death. He works tirelessly towards that goal." Ayana explained, sighing a little. Mito, feeling her pensiveness, leaned closer.

"You can see the weakness in his idealism, can't you? And it worries you? Why?" Her sudden interest made Ayana uncomfortable, but the chance to talk to someone else about what was always weighing on her heart was a gift she could not pass up.

"If he were to chase the wrong path in the hope of delivering everyone to peace, there would be no dissuading him from it. His devotion and deep love are his biggest strengths, but also his greatest weaknesses, simply because he refuses to acknowledge them. The Uchiha have made him believe that to be strong, he must have ultimate power and disregard his emotions." Ayana's fears rushed out of her mouth. Mito frowned.

"How can he continue to think that way, though? He is Hashirama's best friend, and he is involved with you. Surely he can see…" Mito's voice trailed off when Ayana shook her head.

"All of his brothers were killed by the Senju clan, including his beloved little brother Izuna. That loss has created an innate rejection of love within him. He never claims to love me, Mito, nor does he ever claim to hold me with such feelings in his heart. He fears losing those he loves again, so to protect himself, he pretends not to love at all. If he denies it, by his logic it cannot be taken from him." She explained. Mito sighed, reaching across the table to grab Ayana's hands again. From the woman's touch, Ayana felt only love and support, mixed with sympathy.

"All you can do is continue to show him love and hope he opens his heart to it once more. We will all help you. Surely within this village he will be able to see that love is the way to move forward." Mito's words made hope flare in Ayana's heart. Surrounded by people like Hashirama and Mito, how would Madara be able to keep denying the love that permeated the village?

"Mito! Ah, and Ayana is with you, hello!" Hashirama's distinct voice boomed out of the crowd at them. Ayana turned her face in the direction it had come from, smiling as she felt the woman next to her stand. Mito's chakra had warmed and deepened upon hearing Hashirama, radiating out from her like a warm breeze reaching towards the male ninja.

"How were things at the school?" Ayana asked as Hashirama reached their table, arm going around Mito and pulling her close to his side. Their chakras blended together perfectly, bodies leaning into one another. The level of intimacy between them was visible even to Ayana's blind eyes. Her smile grew wider. Mito would be good for Hashirama; her level-headedness would help tamper Hashirama's wild bouts of fantasy, while Hashirama's unfailingly giving nature would support Mito wholeheartedly.

"The classes are going well. Madara was asked to stay to watch the shuriken skills of some of the older students, but I expect he will be finished soon. Why don't we all go to dinner together?" Hashirama's question had the smile fading slowly from Ayana's face. Despite how much she adored spending time with him, she still could not shake the feeling that she did not belong in his circle of friends. She wasn't a lover or a powerful shinobi, nor was she a wise woman or a tactical genius. She was just herself, a blind medic from the woods, who had happened to stumble into his life. Ayana opened her mouth to politely turn him down while her uneasy and nauseous anxiety returned once more to grip her chest.

"Stop fretting about worthless things, Medic." The dark growled voice rolled over her moments before his immense chakra did. She shuddered, helplessly recalling the only other time he let his power flow across her senses like that. Knowing he was doing it on purpose, she jumped to her feet and glared at the man silently stalking up behind Hashirama. Unrepentant, Madara smirked at her.

"Come, eat with us. You're still too thin. Haven't I told you to start eating better?" He continued, stepping around his friend to grab Ayana by her arm. Conscious of the fearful eyes watching the Uchiha, Ayana pulled free and ducked her head. Blowing out a sigh, Mito slipped free of Hashirama's hold and nudged Madara aside. Grabbing Ayana's hands in her own, Mito smiled at her, the warmth and love radiating out of the woman smooth against Ayana's senses.

"Please, come with us. I would be the only woman around otherwise." She slipped her arm around Ayana's waist and pulled her along as she started walking. Left with no choice, Ayana followed her, Madara and a laughing Hashirama striding along in their wake. Mortified, Ayana kept her head down.

"I don't know why you feel the need to keep yourself separate from them, but I promise you aren't any less than us because you aren't a shinobi, or because of your eyes. Besides, I could really use a friend to talk about girl things to." Mito continued, leaning in closer. Ayana blinked.

"Girl things?" She queried, uncertain what the woman was getting at. She was knowledgeable about medicine and herbs, but how to act around other women, she had no idea. Ayana's heart told her that Mito would be a wonderful friend, but her insecurity and fear of rejection was making her hold back. She and Madara both had interpersonal problems. Mito crashed through the barriers Ayana kept between her heart and others with the subtle skill of a master social navigator.

"Yes. I love Hashirama, but I can't very well talk gossip with him. Or about him. With you, I can. Aside from me, who else will understand our complaints about the men in our lives?" Mito's words made Ayana's eyes widen. If Mito could talk to her about Hashirama, then Ayana would have someone to talk to about Madara. Mito would understand all Ayana's fears and complaints, because the two men they loved were very similar. They could be friends. Ayana had never had a true friend before. Not even Madara was her friend, despite how much she loved his company and person. Uncertain, she peeked over her shoulder at him. He was often times against her growing close to others, though so far it had only applied to males.

"Accept it, Ayana. Now, let us go eat. You're skinny." Madara's short response made her pout. He had been commenting on her body a lot recently. While she was touched at his concern for her health, even she would be bothered by being constantly referred to as skinny. She didn't look like a twelve-year-old boy by choice; she was only getting proper nourishment now that she had moved to the village. When she lived in the forest, it wasn't unusual for her to go days without eating in the leaner months of the year. As such, Ayana's body was severely underdeveloped for her age. Her lips pursed together. It hadn't seemed to bother the man that much before, when he was claiming her, that she was waifish. Why the concern now?

At her side, Mito narrowed her eyes at the shinobi whose mere name caused others to shiver in fear without any trepidation.

"Women want to hear that they are beautiful, not too thin. Really, Madara, you're supposed to be a clan leader. You should know better." She scolded serenely, making Madara's face tighten in a frown. Ayana covered her mouth, trying to hide the laugh that was shaking out of her from the inside.

"I never said Ayana isn't beautiful; she well knows she is. I am just worrying about her health. Hashirama has mentioned that she is malnourished lately." Madara defended himself by throwing his friend to the wolves. Without missing a beat, Mito whirled on her man, releasing Ayana.

"How dare you say such a thing about Ayana!" She advanced on Hashirama, finger lifted in reproach. Hashirama backed away from her, hands rising as he tried to make his body as small as he could. Curious onlookers in the street stopped what they were doing to laugh and watch as the God of Shinobi was put firmly in his place by his red-haired woman. Ayana smiled as she felt the happiness radiating out from them. Mito would never have to worry about being overshadowed by Hashirama; she was too strong of a woman to let it happen.

Madara's hand reached out and grabbed Ayana, tugging her away while Mito continued to scold Hashirama down the street. Off balance, she fell against him. His quick hands caught her and set her back on her feet before he started jobbing down the street, heading away from their friends. She stumbled along after him. "Wait, Madara, what about Mito and Hashirama?"

"They will be fine. I would rather eat with you alone. I have not had time to spend with you recently. My missions to keep the village safe have increased by Hashirama's refusal to be firm. Soon, some sort of governing structure is going to be built to handle running the village. Once that happens, I should have more time to be with you." He spoke quickly as he pulled her along after him.

To her relief, he did not lead them towards the Uchiha clan compound, but towards the quiet of the far edge of the village. Here, the houses were set apart, with long stretches of blank road between them. Few people were around, and those that saw Madara quickly vacated the area. Smiling, she squeezed his hand tightly as it clung to her own. She felt his assurance in his grip when he squeezed back.

Mito was right. The only way to show Madara that power wasn't the answer was to keep loving him. It was all she could do. She was uncomfortable being around so many shinobi. Ayana often felt like she had no real purpose in a village filled with talented and powerful people like Hashirama and Madara. But there was one thing that only she could do. Only she could love Madara endlessly, because she was the only one he would let his guard down around. With her love, she knew eventually she could save him from his belief that power was the only thing that could lead a person to happiness.

Secure in that thought, she tugged until she felt him glance back on her, then slowed her steps. Madara adjusted his stride to fit her smaller one, yanking her forward to walk at his side. Releasing her hand, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, hand brushing against her neck and collarbone possessively as they walked. Ayana doubted he realized he was doing it. She had concluded Madara had a neck fetish. He always touch her there and left marks on the skin. It thrilled her, though, and was one of the few ways he showed her what was in his heart. She would never bring it up, in case she embarrassed him to the point that he stopped doing it. He was a very shy and reserved man at heart.

"What kind of government?" She asked, truly curious. It would be a delicate task to creating a ruling body that all the clans would gladly follow. They were all powerful and set in their ways, so it would take someone ever stronger to make them obey. There were only two men in the village who fell into that category.

"Tobirama has said that the elders of the clans wish to appoint Hashirama as leader, but he has denied it. He wants to let the village decide, and even mentioned nominating me for the position of Hokage." Madara chuckled darkly and shook his head, the negative emotion in it causing Ayana to shiver. There was pain and scorn in his chakra, but why? She reached up with her free hand, brushing her fingers against his face. Her tracing lips felt his frown, though he quickly nibbled on her searching fingers to distract her. Sighing, he dropped her hand. If she did not want her to know, then she wouldn't press him. Not yet. They had time.

"You would be a good leader, Madara," Ayana started, hesitating to speak, "But I think the position should go to Hashirama. You are far more suited to be his support from the shadows. A… a shadow Hokage, if you will." She didn't want to hurt her shinobi, but Ayana could not lie. Madara would be an excellent leader, but he loved too deeply, and felt too much without admitting it. His wild emotions and desire to protect would drive him to be harsh and cold when he needed to show heart. Hashirama was incapable of hiding his love, so he would do well as the face of the village. And, it would help Hashirama to know Madara had his back when things became tough. The role of silent watcher and protector would suit Madara's temperament.

It would allow him to fulfill his need to protect those he cared about without having to show it. He could still hide the kind heart he guarded so well, but be true to himself. And perhaps, one day, he would learn to love truly. When that happened, Ayana could see Madara stepping into the role of Hokage. He would be perfect for it, once he learned to accept emotion was not weakness, but strength.

"Hn." Madara's response was cold. Frowning, Ayana reached up for his face again, but he caught her hand and held it down, pausing in their stroll to spin her around in front so she was held captive against his stronger bod y. It had been a long time since she had been so close to him, pressed against his strength. Ayana melted into him, lifting her lashes to stare blindly up at the burning gaze boring into her. She could feel his powerful chakra washing over her skin from his gaze alone. He stroked his hand down her back, tangling his fingers in her wild curls.

"Boney." He muttered, feeling her spine through the simple dress she wore. Ayana rolled her eyes and pulled one of her hands free to grab his elbow.

"Why the sudden obsession with my body, Madara?" She whispered. He flashed a leering grin at her, the heat chasing the chill of his words earlier away as he reached down and boldly grabbed her rear, pulling her hips hard into him.

"Oh? It isn't sudden. We have enjoyed dancing before, many times." He purred against her hair, making heat flare in Ayana's body as he slowly ground their hips together suggestively. Shrieking, she pushed both her palms against his strong chest, trying to get away. Laughing, Madara released her so she could stomp a few steps away and cross her arms. Turning her back to him, she lifted her face up towards the sky, puffing up her cheeks in embarrassment.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it, Madara!" She snapped, trying to hide her fluster behind false anger. It had been so long since she had seen the wild and perverted side of his personality, she wasn't sure what to do with herself. She loved when Madara used that dusky voice on her and showed her exactly how much she meant to him. However, he'd been gone away on missions to the other villages building in neighboring lands for months, only just returned to the village that morning. She'd lost her bravery to be daring with him.

He was still chuckling in his throat when he walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, wrists negligently crossed over her chest. Ayana blew out a breath and leaned back into his support, reaching up to cover his dangling hands with hers. His hair swept out across her shoulders, engulfing her in his silken scent like a cloak.

"… I am surprised I noticed this first. Your chakra has changed." His voice was a silken rasp against her ear as he slowly slid his hands, joined with hers, down the front of her body to rest possessively over her flat stomach. For a moment, Ayana did not understand. He chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss against her temple. "Here. It changed here."

Ayana's breath stopped as her heart kicked into a gallop inside her chest. Certainly, she had been weary and depressed, her body weak and achy, but she'd not noticed anything amiss. Truthfully, she'd never had truly heavy flow each month, and had sometimes missed having one at all while living in the forest, so when hers had not shown up last month or the current one, Ayana had thought nothing of it. But what Madara was suggesting… Tears filled her eyes and started leaking down her cheeks as she pressed her palms, together with Madara's, against her belly. Her lips trembled when she tried to speak.

"W-we are g-going to?" She stammered, hardly able to speak. She was drowning in so many emotions, she could hardly breath. Joy burst inside her, alongside terrible fear. Doubts assailed her. What would the Uchiha clan think? How would the village react? Could she, with her body carrying so many scars and so devoid of nourishment, even carry a child to term?

Madara's strong arms were the only thing holding her up as she collapsed back against him. He chuckled, sweeping her up in his arms and striding down the road towards her home. "You'll be alright. Once we are certain, we can have Hashirama take a look at you. His healing power is unmatched. Leave the clan to me." Ayana could tell from Madara's grim voice that he was aware of the challenges facing them. But, he was ready. Already, she could feel his hesitant joy sparking inside him. He wanted a family. A child would go a long way towards filling the hole Izuna's death had left inside him.

Ayana folded her hands protectively over her stomach and smiled. She imagined she could feel a flutter of life against her palms. She would protect Madara, and this life they'd created together, with her entire being. Together, they would find their way to happiness. With the joy of a child in his life, there was no way Madara would be able to hold onto his dark thirst for power. He would finally be healed.

Swallowing her fears, Ayana rested her head against his solid chest and felt hope blossom inside her.

Chapter Eight

Wincing, Ayana froze in her stooped position reaching for the pencil on the floor as pain radiated dully through her body. Pressing her perspiring lips together, she tried to breath slowly and steadily. After a few moments, the surge of discomfort faded and she was able to finish picking up the pencil. Straightening, she rested one of her thin hands on the tiny bump of her stomach and let her senses flare out. The tiny flicker in energy that Madara had taught her to feel out was still steady. Only then did she relax.

The pains were getting worse. As a medic, Ayana knew they were not good signs. Her body was not handling the pregnancy well. Light bleeding had started only a few weeks after Madara had confirmed her state with Hashirama. Then, the pains started, sometimes when she moved too quickly and other times for no apparent reason at all. From what she had learned in her years serving the villages from the forest, Ayana had a sick feeling she was not carrying the child well. Her body, with its torn and scarred womb and malnourished state, couldn't compensate, and was hurting itself to provide the child what it needed.

Leaning back against the wall of her tiny clinic office in the village, she blew out a breath. She hadn't told Madara. He'd been away more often than home for the last month, and the few times she saw him, he was filled with pensive darkness. His energy was stormy and unclear, though he did his best to be happy when he was beside her. Whenever they met, he would touch her so gently, and she could feel his true joy inside. But whatever burden he was carrying was weighing heavy on him, and she did not want to add to it.

So, she hid her state. Luckily for her, Hashirama was far too busy to hover over her, and Ayana made it a point to never let a trained medical ninja touch her. She'd done good so far. Whenever Mito stopped by to visit or take her shopping, Ayana was able to keep up the act. Any paleness in her face she attributed to worry for Madara. While true, it was also a lie, but it snuck by the shinobi. Perhaps her actions were foolish, but Ayana did not want to burden her lover or his friend. They faced worries enough without her adding to them.

A soft knock on the door made Ayana snap out of her dreams. Setting her pencil aside, she bustled over to the entry and opened it. A ninja stood outside, energy flaring out uncertainly. The boy was young, probably only a few years younger than Ayana herself. He shifted on his feet before glancing up at her. Ayana made certain she kept her eyes closed; Her violet gaze still unnerved people around her.

"U-Um… You've been summoned by the Uchiha Elders, Miss Ayana. They asked me to come get you." The boy stammered out uncertainly. Ayana frowned, even as her heart kicked in her chest. Had they learned of her child? Unconsciously, she covered her stomach with her hands. Even though Madara had said to leave the clan to him, he'd never actually gotten a chance to tell them about her and the baby. He'd been gone on missions. The elders in his clan knew about her, so obviously, rumors of her pregnancy would eventually reach their ears.

Straightening her shoulders, Ayana nodded and stepped back inside to tidy up. Obviously, she was going to have to handle the elders herself. Perhaps they thought she had betrayed Madara, or they wanted to check to see if the child was a true Uchiha themselves. She was frightened, but she wasn't afraid they would hurt her. None of them would be foolish enough to risk Madara's wrath should harm befall her. They all remembered what had happened to the last fool from their clan who had dared to touch her.

Locking the door, Ayana stepped out and followed the young shinobi through the crowded street. Easily dodging around the press of people, Ayana had to marvel again at how quickly the village had grown. Mito told her that other lands were mimicking the Land of Fire, starting their own ninja villages created out of consolidating powerful clans together into one cohesive unit. Knowing that Madara had been a part of the creation of their time of peace made Ayana proud.

When they reached the street the Uchiha clan home was located at, Ayana reached out and tapped the young boy on the shoulder, chuckling a little when he jumped at her touch. "I will be fine from here. Thank you." She told him gently. She could feel his frown.

"Are you sure? You can't see." He pointed out bluntly, reminding her a little of her shinobi with his complete lack of tact. Laughing despite the fear slicking her spine, she nodded and waved him off. Once he was gone, Ayana felt her smile fade as she faced the imposing power pressing against her from the clan home. She drew in a deep breath and tried to center herself. She could hear people talking as they walked along. Birds sang in the sky. A group of horses walked along further down the street, snorting and prancing as they were lead by the groom towards the river.

"Don't be a coward." Ayana whispered to herself, stepping out into the middle of the road. As soon as she did, she felt the ground rumble, and a bunch of shouting and screams before something heavy and sharp smacked into her back and sent her crashing to the ground.

Instinctively curling around her stomach, Ayana cried out in pain as more blows landed on her legs and back. She heard snapping and thudding and felt agony engulfing her body, then something hard knocked into her world started growing hazy and warped, voices coming to her through a sheen of water. Ayana desperately tried to hold onto consciousness, but it slipped through her fingers like sand. The last thing she heard before she fainted was her name, spoken in the voice she loved more than any in the world.

"Ayana!"

The desperation in the call was the first thing she noticed as her mind swam back to clarity. Dully aching everywhere and feeling empty and sore, Ayana blinked open her eyes. Warm hands, scarred and strong, squeezed hers tightly, relief flowing from his beloved grip into her.

"Madara… what happened?" She muttered, tongue thick and clumsy in her mouth. She was laying on her back, but something was wrong. Her mind tried to tell her what, but she couldn't focus enough to figure it out. Madara did not speak, only tightened his hold on her hands as his relief started fading, replaced by an intense rage that seemed endless.

"Madara?" Ayana's alarm chased the last of the grogginess away. Madara had not been due back for another day, so why was he… where was she? The last thing she remembered was heading to the Uchiha Clan to talk to the elders and then –

Gasping, Ayana tried to pull her hands away, wanting to touch her stomach. Madara's grip tightened ruthlessly, bordering on painful. She tugged, but could not free herself. Panic clawing at her throat, she tried to sit up, but a different set of hands pushed her shoulders back down. The somber energy in them was nearly as vast as Madara's, cut through with a sorrowful guilt that nearly choked her. Rage and sorrow, two men who had watched over her for more than half her life, refused to let her move. They would not let her check on her child. She could only think of one reason why.

Tears started falling.

"How?" She croaked, turning her face to look at Hashirama as he knelt by her side. The shinobi withdrew his hands from her, though she could still feel him close by. He sat, hands fisted on his knees, refusing to look at her or his best friend clinging to her hands so desperately.

"The horses. Something… spooked them and they ran you over. Two kicked you in the back, one in the stomach. Your legs were both broken. It was a miracle none of them stepped on your head." He explained, hardly able to speak around his emotions. Ayana nodded, turning her face back towards Madara.

"I'm sorry, Madara." She whispered, wanting to take him into her arms, but he refused to release her hands. His sorrow was nearly as great as hers. It yawned open deep inside of him, filling him with anger and despair that had no target. At her words, he let out a harsh breath, hot with unshed tears, and finally released her hands.

Climbing to his knees and leaning over her so his hair spilled around her, Madara gripped her chin and forced her to stare up at him. "Never apologize to me again. Never – " Cutting himself off, he leaned down and kissed her forehead before leaving the room. Eyes wide, Ayana reached up and touched where he'd kissed her. Though he was physical and tactile, Madara had never kissed her so gently in front of anyone before.

"He's not left your side for two days, Ayana. You've been in a healing sleep for three. When I heard what had happened, I came, but I was – " Hashirama stopped speaking, unable to continue. Ayana closed her eyes, weariness filling her entire body.

"I would have lost the baby even if I hadn't been hurt, Lord Hashirama. My body could not carry a child. I've scarring and wounds, and the signs of loss were there. Pain and bleeding. I just hadn't wanted to admit it. Thank you, for trying." She rasped, falling numb. Ayana wanted to scream and wail, but what would be the point? Nothing could change the past. Her child, Madara's child, was gone.

Ayana let the tears roll back into her hair and ears as she cried without sound, facing the ceiling. She'd failed. Her baby, Madara, even herself, she'd let them all down. The lost child had been Madara's chance to see that life was worth living with a heart full of love. Now, though, Ayana knew he was going to lock his love away. The pain he felt had been so raw, compounding on top of the wounds from Izuna's death he'd never allowed to heal.

He'd fall into the pain and never come back.

"Lord Hashirama, Madara needs you. He can't be alone with this." Ayana blurted, urgency making her reach over and grab the shinobi with desperate hands. He was surprised at her words, but nodded and stood.

"I'll get Mito to stay with you. You are at my home, and welcome to remain for as long as you need." He declared before rushing from the room. Her fears must have translated to him, as she could feel his energy leaving to chase after Madara.

When Mito's chakra paused outside the room, Ayana sighed. The pain she felt was endless, but her friend was hurting, too. So was her lover. And Lord Hashirama. How could she help them? As a medic, it was her job to heal people, but how was she supposed to tend to aliments of the soul? How could she even treat someone else when her own heart was frozen inside her chest?

Mito opened the door and stepped inside. "Ayana, I don't know what to say." She admitted softly, walking over on soft feet to kneel next to her. Ayana closed her eyes and lifted her hand out to the woman. She readily grabbed it, grip warm and strong as her chakra.

"Don't say anything. Just… stay with me, please. I'm so afraid." Ayana whispered, squeezing Mio's hand hard.

"Afraid of what, dear one?" The princess inquired, confusion trancing across her energy.

"Afraid I've lost Madara forever." Admitting her fear in a small voice in case fate or destiny heard her, Ayana lifted her free hand and finally touched her stomach. The skin was smooth and slightly concave again, no bump, no small flicker of life. Hashirama must have healed her body fully before he allowed her to awaken, for Ayana could sense nothing of her child left within her any more. Agony stabbed at her heart. Why did it have to happen like this?

"Oh, Ayana, Madara won't blame you for this. You did not see him. When he learned what had happened, he rushed straight here and has not left our side since. He called your name endlessly. To Madara Uchiha, nothing is more precious than your life." Mito explained. She meant well, but Ayana shook her head. Her friend didn't understand.

How could Ayana explain Madara's deathly fear towards loss to Mito? To anyone? To everyone else, he appeared unbreakable. He was so strong and seemed to be impervious to fear or trepidation. Self-confidence coated him like natural air, and leadership was his mantel worn with pride. He was coldly intelligent and ruthlessly logical. Afraid was not a word anyone would use to describe Madara. But it was there. His childhood, wretched as it had been, had traumatized him. He was so afraid of loss, of having something he loved taken from him, that he denied his own heart. Madara had locked away his positive emotions in an attempt to keep from feeling the pain that had consumed him when Izuna was slain.

He didn't even want to see others experiencing that emotion. That was why he'd left. Even though Ayana knew he longed to comfort her, to help her, Madara had not been able to stay in the room with her and see her suffer loss. So, he'd fled. The mighty Uchiha had run from emotion. Now, Ayana did not know if he'd be able to ever look at her again without being reminded of what they had both lost.

Fresh tears welled in her eyes. Not only her child, but her lover, too. Gasping on a sob, Ayana withdrew her hand from Mito and covered her eyes, pressing against them with her palms. Was this her punishment for hiding her condition from Madara for so long? Or was Ayana just cursed to be rejected by happiness every time she attempted to snag it for herself?

Ayana jumped when the door slammed open again, not expecting the vast power rushing in to fill the room. Without a word to anyone, not even Hashirama who came running hot on his heels, Madara stormed over and bent, scooping Ayana up in his arms. Turning, he went to leave the room carrying her, but Hashirama stood in the way.

"Move." The order was dark, filled with an anger just looking for a target. That Hashirama was willing to stand in the way of that made Ayana's already deep respect for the man grow even more. She would never be able to repay what he had done for her.

"In a moment. Ayana is mostly healed, but she still needs to rest. Be careful, Madara." Warning delivered in a stern tone unlike his usual bravado, the shinobi stepped aside and allowed Madara to carry her from the room. Ayana lifted her arms and twined them around his neck, clinging to him as he ran with enviable speed away from the village. She knew where he was taking her, and did not complain.

When they arrived at her small home in the forest, Madara kicked the front door open and set her down on the table inside. Sending her senses out, Ayana was surprised that the home was not in disrepair. The air was stale but not musty, and she could tell that the furniture had been tended to. Had someone moved in or… tracking her gaze over to where Madara was tugging blankets out of a wooden chest tucked into the corner of the room, she felt a soft, nearly invisible smile tug at her mouth. His love and kindness were never put into words, but they spoke clearly through his actions.

Finding the blanket he wanted, Madara covered her in it and picked her back up, taking her to the bedroom at the back of the hut. Setting her down gently on a pallet that smelled of fresh bedding, he stepped back and knelt beside the bed, one hand brushing her hair back from her face while he grabbed her hand once more in a tight grip with his free hand. Without saying anything, he just held her hand.

Ayana closed her eyes, letting the motion of him brushing her hair with his fingers sooth her raw soul. He was with her, but holding himself back. His heart was closed to her senses, preventing her from reading him despite the warm hand holding her own. She had him, but Ayana could sense the fragile hold she had on him. Who knew when Madara would decide to let her go, but Ayana was going to cling on with every ounce of strength she possessed. She couldn't lose him, not now. She would never survive it.

"…Ayana. Tell me, what is happiness to you?" Madara's question startled her. Opening her eyes, she turned her face towards him, but he wasn't looking at her. His gaze, his energy, all of it was being held back from her. It took a lot of concentration for Madara to restrain his vast chakra aura, especially when he was emotionally raw, so for him to be holding himself back made her heat shiver a little in fear. But, she could sense the importance of her words, so she answered him.

"My happiness is a simple thing, Madara. If you are happy and with me, then I will be happy. I don't care if we are at the village or with Lord Hashirama and Mito, or even your clan. I guess that makes me a little selfish." She rasped, wincing as she shifted her body to the side so she could reach out and touch his hand atop hers. That he let her touch him was a shard of hope she buried deep in her chest. As long as he did not reject her, then she hadn't yet lost him.

"Everyone is selfish. It's those selfish desires of wanting peace and happiness that causes wars. To protect what they love, everyone fights. And hates." Madara muttered, pain lancing through Ayana at his words.

"I'm causing hatred and war?" She mumbled, confused by what he meant. Certainly, she could understand fighting to protect a loved one, but surely that was different than the hellish battles for power Hashirama and Madara had been involved in during their painful childhoods?

"No, not you. But… because of you, yes," Madara answered, then shook his head, finally turning to look at her. She felt his gaze, but it lacked the heated power it usually contained. He was as weary and empty as Ayana felt. "Never mind. It's nothing."

"What's happiness to you, Madara? Isn't it the dream of the village?" Ayana asked, not certain why she was pressing the matter, but feeling in her bones that it was vital she understand what Madara had meant by his words. They were so empty. No anger or frustration. Just there. It was almost like he'd accepted despair so completely that his entire being was numb. She didn't want that for him. Though it was painful, she wanted him to be with her. She wanted them to feel all the joy and all the pain life had to offer. He was worth fighting for.

How could she make him see that?

"The village," Madara spoke uncertainly, tightening his hold on her painfully, "seems to create a contradiction. It embodies peace but fosters the catalysts for war. I want a world where no one has to die needlessly, or suffer pain. A world where my happiness… doesn't consign someone else to misery."

He was truly kind. Kinder than anyone, even Hashirama. An Uchiha loved with all their heart, and Madara loved the world. He loved the people in it. His clan, the villagers, Ayana. All of them, he wanted safe. But the continued threat of war and death, famine and plague, it caused him agony. His dream of happiness was beautiful, but unattainable, and that very truth was causing him to suffer so much. Longing to comfort him but uncertain how, Ayana dug deep inside to find the words to try and save him.

"Happiness doesn't come without pain, Madara. That suffering is what makes the happiness we find in life so worthwhile. It's what makes it real. If it hurts, then it's real." Ayana told him, letting her eyes drift shut again. She was tired, exhausting creeping into her limbs.

"Enough, Ayana. Stop talking." Madara commanded, no heat in his voice. She nodded and pulled away to lay on her back. To her shock, he released her hand and stood, climbing over her to stretch on the pallet next to her. He stayed on top of the blanket covering her, and kept his sandals on, but he was laying with her. Even during their most intimate moments together, Madara had never just lounged in bed with her. He wasn't the type to cuddle. Turning, she faced him, snuggling into the warm strength he offered.

"Never leave me, Madara. Please." She begged, tears welling out of her eyes again. She had always thought herself strong. She'd survived alone in the woods since she was a child. In her youth, she'd stood up to Madara Uchiha and lived to tell the tale. Later on, she took the same ninja to be her lover without fear. In a village full of talented people, Ayana had carved a successful business as a medical practitioner out for herself. Alone or with others, she had always managed to carry on. But, despite her strength and how much she prided herself on it, Ayana knew.

If he ever left her behind, Ayana's heart would shatter. She would survive, but she would never really live again. Half of her would be missing, ripped out by his loss from her life.

Madara held her close, but he did not answer her plea. He made her no promise. Feeling the distance stretching between them keenly, Ayana pressed her lips together and said no more. She knew it would do nothing to change his mind. From his words, she knew he was wavering in his convictions. He could see the flaws in the village. She could, too.

But unlike him, Ayana still believed in it. With enough heart and conviction, with the will to do what had to be done, a village would be able to overcome the avarice and bloodlust inherent in the world around them. It might take years; It might not happen in her lifetime. But it could happen. She truly felt that the human heart would win over everything else.

It was the heart that Madara distrusted the most, though. He felt that it was the root cause of all their problems. Strong feelings of love and hatred, the desire to protect or wound, those where the things he focused on. Despite having a heart that felt more deeply than any other, he denied it. With his emotions closed off and sealed away, Madara could only condemn those who followed their hearts as weak and foolish.

With such thoughts plaguing him, it would not be long before Madara left the village behind. He was too driven to stay silent and accept something he saw as irreparable bringing pain to the world he cherished. It would become his duty to seek another way. Ayana had no doubt he would find one. Her shinobi was too intelligent, and too driven, to give up. She was afraid, though, that such a path would lead him down a dark road she could not follow him on.

Whatever it was that pushed him to leave, it would happen soon. Ayana curled in tighter against him, soaking in the warmth of his body as he held her. Perhaps her existence would be what finally drove him away. Would he be able to look at her without seeing the chance for family he'd lost? Or would it be the conflict of power within the village? Already, factions devoted to Hashirama pushed for him to be declared Hokage of the village, while others still put forth their own nominations. Even Hashirama himself contributed to the chaos, putting Madara's name forth as a candidate. Though the village itself was voting, all knew what the outcome would be. The vote would be held in two days' time. Ayana could sense the change in the air coming.

"I love you, Madara." She whispered, knowing it was all she had left… and that it wouldn't be enough. All the love in the world would not be able to convince Madara to change his mind.

"I know." His response was laced through with sorrow. He was aware she could read his intentions. Even knowing that, he did not saw the words to her. He couldn't. To take the path he'd chosen, he never would. Fresh pain joined the pit of despair growing in her heart.

Between them, there was nothing more to say. Together, they laid on the pallet deep in the woods, clinging onto one another as the sun went down. For two days, they stayed together in her hut, Madara tending to her every need like she was a queen. They spoke of their childhoods and adventures. They spoke of dreams. Everything and nothing, they spent all their time together just talking. On the second night, Madara held her once again. Ayana clung to him as they danced for what she knew was the last time.

When morning came, Madara was gone.

Chapter Nine

She didn't get to see him when he died.

Ayana had begged Tobirama to take her to Madara's body when Hashirama had returned, half-dead the devastating final fight with the Uchiha that had left the village in shambles and the landscape in ruins. Despite her pleas, the younger Senju had refused. Not even Mito's intervention could sway him, and with Hashirama forced out of his role as Hokage for recovery, it was to Tobirama everyone differed. He gave Ayana his reasons plainly, laying them out for her. It was not wise for more then one person to know where the corpse lay. Even in death, Madara was dangerous. If the Uchiha Clan knew where he rested, they'd go to reclaim his eyes. Knowing the truth of that, Ayana had stopped trying and returned to tending the wounded.

When Mito had decided to seal the Nine-Tails inside her, Ayana had been at her side to help. Afterwards, Hashirama had offered to take her into his home, aware that her suffering was swallowing her whole. Ayana often thought Mito made the suggestion, though she was thankful for it. She'd accepted, moving her clinic and her belongings into the Senju home. After a few years, she'd become Mito's personal lady-in-waiting as well as the Senju main doctor, a position she enjoyed fully. Despite her role as a servant, she and Mito remained fast friends. They were rarely apart, and Ayana was allowed to offer council to the Hokage and hear village secrets. Not even Tobirama could deny Ayana's wisdom and unique perspective, nor her medical knowledge. Through hard work, she gained his respect, though he would likely never fully trust Ayana. Hashirama was kind to her, always treating her as a dear friend despite being a woman who had loved the man he'd killed. She knew he bore guilt for that, but Ayana never blamed him.

The path Madara had chosen to walk was not one that could be allowed. His dream would cause torment and suffering for everyone. Ayana had tried to save him, but failed. She was built for handing the care of Madara over to someone else, but she knew she was not qualified to stand in his way. Hashirama had been the only one who could stop the Uchiha, and he'd shouldered the burden fully. For that alone, Ayana would spend the rest of her life trying to repay him.

When Mito discovered she was with child, it had been Ayana who tended her and helped her deliver the babe while she strained to maintain the seal on the Nine-Tails. Hashirama had long credited her calm presence as the reason Mito had been able to deliver safely. Ayana was named the baby's godmother, and delighted in the child's infancy and toddler years along side the parents. She was proud as Hashirama when the darling child spoke their first word. Passed the exams for the academy. Got married. Had a beautiful baby girl. Each milestone, Ayana was there to celebrate, too. She was wreathed in happiness and joy. For all the world, Ayana appeared to have a blessed life.

Only, she was alone.

There was no one to stand at her side. Ayana walked the streets without a lover to lean on. She spent the holidays by herself, knowing she was welcome at the Senju family celebrations, but unwilling to intrude. No one surprised her with flowers on her birthday, or confectionaries on anniversaries. Ayana kept her promise, made to a man long dead.

Huffing out a breath, she wrapped her cloak tighter around her body and trudged through the heavy snow in the woods, wondering again why she continued to do this to herself every year. She wasn't getting any younger. Already, sweet little Tsunade told her she had icing in her dark curls. Having never been vain about her own looks, Ayana did not care. She was simply aging, as was the way of all life in the world. Her white-streaked hair was just an outward sign of it, which had happened a little prematurely in her case. Both Hashirama and Mito remained as youthful as ever, but she thought that was more due to their unique powers than any special genetics. Although, Tobirama looked young as ever despite not having his brother's insane vitality. Maybe eternal youthfulness was just a Senju things?

Among the villagers, she had been told that she was considered an attractive woman, despite her age.

"Has it really been that long?" She wondered out loud, shifting the cloak over her shoulders and pushing onward. The passage of time had dulled the hole in her heart, but she could never forget. Nor would she want to. Despite how he was remembered by the village, Madara had been a huge force in her life. Just because of the bad, she wasn't going to forget the good. Which was why, every where in the dead of winter, Ayana made the journey to the deepest part of the forest where her lonely hut stood.

It was her way to cope with a death she had never confirmed with her own eyes. She took a few days off from her work as a medic, and spent her time honoring memories. Little had changed in the hut, despite Hashirama's offers to update and expand it using his Wood Style abilities. Ayana wanted it to remain as it was. That way, when she was there, she could almost smell Madara's unique scent in the air.

Finally making it to her one-time home, Ayana huffed out a breath and shoved the door open with her shoulder. The inside was clean and sparse, as it had always been. Nips of cold wind tickled her cheeks as she dropped the heavy pack she'd been carrying under her cloak to the floor, rolling her back to try to ease the tension in her shoulders. Keeping one hand on the twisting wall, Ayana walked over to the chest that had her blankets in it and started pulling the rough ones out. Shaking the lint and dust off, she bustled around the edges of the home, expertly hanging and tucking the fabrics into place until all the gaps the cool air could use to sneak inside were sealed.

Clapping her hands together to try to warm them up, Ayana put her hands on her hips and nodded. "Now then, a fire." She muttered, remembering how many winters she had spent nearly frozen to death within the living walls of her home. Out of fear of burning her house down, Ayana had never used a fire inside the home. Age had made her less stubborn. Or maybe it had made her more reckless, she wasn't really certain. Nor did she really care.

Pulling her heavy Iron pot down, Ayana set it on the packed dirt floor at the center of the main room of her house. Piling dry sticks and chopped wood inside, she grabbed two flint stones and started striking them together, blowing and adding kindling until she felt a warm heat against her chilled palms. Letting out a sigh, she finally dropped the cloak from her shoulders and sat down at the table. Now she could do what she'd come to do.

Ayana was reaching for her pack when she felt a ripple of cool air and froze. Hardly daring to breath, she lifted her head and stared around her. Stretching her senses out, she tried to feel if there was something in the room with her, but couldn't see anything amiss. Ayana's abilities to see using her awning had grown so precise and controlled that she was often asked by shinobi to teach them how to use chakra her way. She trusted her version of sight, and it was telling her nothing was there. Yet, her skin prickled like she was being watched. The hypersensitivity made her body shuddered. Licking her lips, she stood up.

"What's here?' She inquired, not really frightened. If an animal had been hiding in the back of her home to escape the snow, then it was her fault for frightening it. She would let it go and then get back to her –

"Still skinny, Ayana."

At the dark voice, Ayana thought she might faint for the first time in her life. Her lungs stopped working and a loud thudding ring pounded in her ears. Her heart crashed in her chest while she shook her head mutely, certain she had finally gone mad and was hallucinating. The owner of that voice was dead. She couldn't be hearing him.

"Don't forget to breath, Medic." The bite of sardonic humor in his voice caused her to suck in a sudden rush of air. Gulping, she stepped forward blindly, hands stretched out. Her seeking fingers bumped into worn fabric covering warm, living flesh before her searching touch was yanked away. Hard hands covered in butter soft leather shackled her wrists and yanked her closer, pulling her flush against a body sculpted from marble. Ayana choked, hands twitching. He let her go, not catching her when she stumbled and latched onto his body to keep from falling. Ayana shivered at his almost dispassionate response to her. She could feel him against her skin, but her senses were empty. She could smell him, taste his heat, but she could not see him. No overwhelming energy roiled at the edge of her mind, no burning gaze full of heart and fire traced her skin. It was like he was there and yet not.

"M-Ma –" Her stammer was cut off by his palm sliding over her mouth, fingers digging into her chin painfully.

"Sh. Enough." His whisper carried a hint of menace as he walked her backwards until her legs hit the bench and she collapsed to her seat. He flowed down next to her, keeping her small body caged by his larger one.

"How? How is this even possible? You're dead. Hashirama killed you." She warbled, clenching her fists in the fabric covering him. It was worn thin, rough and ratty against her palms. Wherever he'd been, he was obviously not living well. One of her fingers slipped through an open hole to trace his burning skin. He was just as strong as she remembered, body as hot and hard as the last day he'd ever touched her. She could feel his sculpted muscles beneath his skin, questing fingers tracing his familiar planes absently, and he let her. Despite his familiar feel, and how her hands remembered hi body, she was frightened. The feeling of safety that he used to engulf her in was gone. There was no emotion in him. Ayana's eyes widened. That was what was wrong.

Madara had no life inside him. His energy lacked luster, only raw power remaining. All that he had not been able to rid himself of before, his silly childishness, the sardonic humor, his wicked sense of justice, and even his unending love, it was gone. Those parts of him had given his chakra so much heat as to be scalding to Ayana's senses, and made being around him feel like being infused with life. That presence was gone now. He was a void so cold that she couldn't differentiate him from the winter outside.

"Did you honestly think death would be the end of me? I am Madara Uchiha. There is nothing I cannot do." He boasted softly, fingers lightly tracing her face. His touch was tender as it wandered over her nose and lips, but it felt almost impersonal. There was no emotion in his fingertips. She felt he was touching her just to try to gauge her reactions, not because of the same confused desire that burned inside her. Ayana swallowed hard, fear kicking her heart harder against her ribs.

"What are you doing, appearing before me now?" She whimpered, closing her eyes and leaning into him. Despite the trepidation swallowing her soul, Ayana could only lean on Madara. She didn't have the strength to step away from him. She wrapped her arms around his body tightly and squeezed him. He felt like her shinobi, but he wasn't. Tears streamed down her face as she pressed her cheek against his chest. "I was just starting to get over you."

"I know. I've been watching you." Madara dodged the question, reaching around and pulling her arms apart, freeing himself from her hold. Biting her lip, Ayana could only let her tears fall silently.

"To make certain I kept my promise?" Her bitterness made her almost spit the words at him. Ayana was so confused as to what she was feeling. Her lover, who was supposed to be dead, was sitting close and tracing her face. In her heart, joy bubbled and sparked inside her. She loved him. Yet, he was the very person who threatened everything she stood for in the world. How was she supposed to react?

For the first time, the odd blankness that cloaked Madara cracked, letting a lash of warm heat out to stroke against Ayana's skin. "No, I… It wasn't part of the plan. I saw you near and I had to… talk to you." He admitted, seemingly confused by his own answer. Ayana sighed and closed her eyes.

Did that mean he still loved her? Was her shinobi buried deep within him? Ayana knew she did not have the strength to dig him out on her own. Her heart wasn't strong enough anymore. She cared too deeply, loved him too much. Her emotions were a burden, making it so she could not give up on him, not like he had done. Madara had torn her out of his heart, rejecting her and everything she stood for. Ayana could not do that. To try and pull him back to her side would leave her emotions ragged and raw. Ayana wasn't going to hurt herself anymore for him. And, most of all... She was tired. He'd left her alone for so long, holding her love prisoner. Part of her just wanted to let him go. However, that option was also impossible, and not just because her heart refused.

She would not leave him alive again.

Ayana knew Madara could not let her go back to the village after seeing him alive. She would tell Hashirama, which would lead to more fighting and his death again. He would never allow her to stop his dream. But Ayana also knew that the Madara she had loved would never be able to kill her. If he was still the same man, and somewhere inside of him Ayana wanted to believe he was, then he would have to cage her and keep her with him at all times to prevent her from letting Hashirama know. Ayana didn't want that, though. She refused to live her life in a cage, nor would she survive watching him fall into darkness.

Faced with such an impossible choice, it was all she could do to breath. Her hands clenched tightly as more tears burned behind her eyes. Mito, Hashirama, little Taunade, she loved them all. They were her family, helping to plug the hole Madara had left in her heart. But, she loved her broken and lost ninja more. He was her light, and always had been. She couldn't leave him alone.

Ayana knew what she had to do.

Opening her eyes, she pulled away from him to cup Madara's strong jaw in her hands. Sighing, she leaned against him and lifted her face towards him. A shudder racked his body, but he didn't stop her when she kissed him. However, he didn't kiss her back. His hands flexed on her arms, but he didn't grab her hair. Madara didn't pin her body beneath him, or demand she give herself up to him. He did nothing. It was a stinging slap of rejection that made sticky sorrow cling to her throat. Recalling the way he had dominated her in the past, how his arms had locked her around her without letting her go, and the heat inside his embrace made her hiccup, but she refused to stop.

Wiping her face on her shoulder, Ayana pulled back and yanked on her hands free from his hold. Be bold, Ayana. Swallowing her innate shyness and the part of her that was shivering in fear, Ayana slowly slid her palm down the front of his body while leaning in to nibble at his lip. Finally reacting, Madara growled out her name and snatch her wandering hand back again.

"What is your game, woman?" He demanded, anger a freezing lash against her skin. Fighting to control her fear, she shook her hair back and met his stare evenly with her own.

"Isn't this what you came to me for? I was the only woman you swore to ever make love with. Surely the great Madara Uchiha was able to keep a simple promise to a blind woman." She taunted, knowing her words were deliberately provocative. She didn't care, though. She wanted him to get angry. Part of her wanted to be petty. She needed a little payback. Ayana was already furious, so why shouldn't he be? A part of her wanted to hurt him, to make him suffer the same agony clawing at her chest. Mostly, though, she just wanted him to hold her again. Ayana wanted to be desired once more, as only he could.

"Believe it or not, no, I did not come here to fuck." No emotion in his voice, Madara withdrew from her completely. Cold air snapped between them as he stepped away. His crass language threw ice water on Ayana's out of control emotions. He was demeaning everything they had had together before. She'd always thought that their intimate dances were making love, but he had deliberately used his words to hurt her by suggesting it had been just… lust.

Even though she knew it was a deliberate lie, throwing out to keep her unbalanced and driver her away, it still hurt. For Ayana, it served as further proof for how lost her shinobi was. The kind and quick witted boy she'd once known, the strong and loyal man who had loved her so desperately, the honorable ninja who'd named a village was gone.

Ayana turned her face away. "Then why, Madara? Why have you approached me? Why couldn't you just let me live my life thinking you dead and honoring you in my own way?"

"I told you, I don't know!" He snapped, finally losing his temper. Madara paced away from her, his turbulent energy filling her tiny home. It made her feel better to hear his confusion and see his composure shatter. At least he was still human enough to feel some emotions, even if he denied the reason for both their pain.

Just as soon as his power flared, though, it was quickly put back under control. He had exceptional control over his seemingly endless chakra now. It was impressive, but she had to wonder what he had been through to learn that skill. Where had he been, and what had he been doing? How had her shinobi killed his heart so completely?

Did she really want to know? Some instinct told her that she might not be able to survive the truth if she knew it.

And in the end… It didn't really matter. Shaking her head, Ayana reached out and caught him by the arm when he paced near her. Lifting her head, she ran her free hand back through his glorious hair, thick and silken like it had always been. He stilled, gaze laying heavy on her skin. She kept her eyes steady, not afraid to let him read her determination in them. Ayana needed to prove to herself that her shinobi was really… gone. He sighed, shifting around so he could warp his arm around her waist and pull her flush against his body. Tangling his hand in her curls, Madara yanked her head back and sealed his mouth over hers.

She shuddered in pleasure as he bit painful at her tongue and lips, roughly kissing her. Though it was as aggressive as his kisses in the past, Ayana felt none of the passion it in. His heart wasn't in it. Tears squeezed out of her eyes as she shut them, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning into his embrace. She would have to provide enough love for both of them. No matter how he viewed it, Ayana was making love to Madara Uchiha.

Madara whirled her around and shoved her body hard against the study limbs making up the back wall, his leg shoved between hers. He lifted his knee, grinding it against the junction of her thighs while he placed his mouth against her neck and bite her hard. Gasping, she fisted her hands in his hair and tugged, hard.

"I'm not a delicate girl anymore, Madara. I'm a woman who doesn't like to wait." She warned him, lifting her eyebrow in question when he chuckled and shifted his grip down to her bottom.

"A woman? You're still a skinny medic," He teased lightly, reminding her of the man he once was. Swallowing that pain, she tugged again, harder this time, making him hiss, "And still playing with fire." Growling in an animalistic way that made her inner muscle clench and dampen embarrassingly, he pushed her harder against the wall. He yanked her long skirt up above her waist, pausing when he saw the heavy woolen stockings covering her legs before he pulled her underwear down and off.

Body shivering, Ayana leaned back, letting out a moan and his hungry lips traced down her shoulders to taste her skin. His leather gloves traced against the seam of her womanhood, making her shudder. Even though there had been no other since Madara, her body was more than ready. It remembered the pleasure he could give her, and craved it. Whining in her throat, she rocked her hips against his hand.

"You're always so eager to dance…" Madara almost moaned the words, pulling one of her legs up by the knee while his free hand fumbled at his waist. A moment later Ayana threw her head back and groaned as something hard and thick rammed into her body. There was a little bite of pain as her muscles, long unused to such activity, stretched around him, but she didn't care. His hot breath panted against her skin as he licked her before once more devouring her mouth.

All the while, his hips pressed into her hard and fast. There were no tender caresses against her skin or provocative words. He didn't take the time to ensure her comfort. Madara pushes her body higher, holding her in a painfully tight grip. Clawing at his back through his clothes, Ayana demanded more pleasure from him. His grip tightened on her thigh and he pushed further inside her.

Setting her teeth into his shoulder to muffle her moans, Ayana bit down hard as he selfishly moved within her. He was going too fast and raw, racing towards his own satisfaction. She kept pace with him, thrust her hips against him to force his probing member to touch her most sensitive places inside. They strained against one another, each greedily devouring and taking pleasure from the other.

Cursing, Madara dropped her leg and grabbed her hands instead, pinning them over head as he moved inside her. His sweat slicked her skin as his harsh mouth bruised her lips with demanding power. He was taking his pleasure from her, but she was doing the same. As he had claimed, they were not making love. No amount of emotion from her was going to reach him. His continual denial to hold her like a lover spoke to her clearly. Ayana felt no emotion in their coupling. But, she wouldn't deny that it felt good. The desire coursing through her body made every limb tingle and wet sleekness leak down her thighs as he moved.

Screaming his name, she shattered, head thrown back as her entire body went rigid, clenching on him tightly. Hissing, Madara shoved deeply into her once more before his member pulsed within her, releasing his heat deep inside. Chest heaving, the shinobi pulled his softened member free and stepped back, letting Ayana slide down the wall as her legs gave out on her. She heard the rustle of clothes as he put himself back together.

She swallowed hard, feel despair yawning open inside her heart. She hadn't found her shinobi. Madara as she had known him was well and truly gone. Only this dark, dangerous stranger with her lover's face remained.

Pulling her skirt down, Ayana pushed her shaking limbs to work and stood. Heat flooded her face as she felt the sticky mess between her thighs, but she didn't regret it. Ignoring the twinges in her body, she carefully edged around Madara and felt her way to the table. Kneeling, she started digging through her pack for what she'd need.

He watched her silently as she set various medicinal herbs and flowers on the table. Finding the packets she wanted, Ayana finally looked at him.

"Would you like some tea?" Her polite words seemed not to match the intimacy they had just shared, but she tried not to let it bother her. He grunted and sat down. Assuming that meant yes, Ayana quickly scuttled around, gathering snow from outside and setting it over the crackling fire in the pot to melt.

They didn't speak, but she hadn't expected him to. Ayana kept herself busy, prepping tow different leaves and powders. When she was certain that the water was hot enough, she poured it with a ladle over the leaf packets and set a cup in front of him to steep. Placing her own cup down in front of her, she faced him.

It was time.

Taking a sip of her tea and trying not to wince at the bitter tang, Ayana spoke. "Madara, I want you to know something. Even though the shadows that hold your soul are beyond my understanding, you have always been a guiding light to my life. Despite what you've done, and what you will inevitably do, I will always love you." She announced, letting all her love and all her fears infuse her voice.

"I didn't ask for your opinion, nor your devotion." Madara snarled, clutching his cup tightly, unable to look directly at her. Her love was painful to him. She nodded, gulping more tea down.

"You never have. But, I wanted you to know. Never doubt that I loved you." She insisted, reaching across the table to grab his hand. He stiffened and pulled away from her. She couldn't reach him at all. He'd fully shut himself off from his heart, locking away the part of him that felt too deeply. Smiling bitterly, Ayana withdrew and finished her tea. Setting it down, she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Its getting late. You're welcome to stay, since it's cold outside. Stoke the fire and then come to bed with me." At her offer, she felt his conflict, but didn't wait to hear an answer. Instead, she headed back to her bedroom. Laying on the palette, her heart pounded until she heard his stealthy steps enter her room. Watching him, she scooted over in the bed, lifting the covers.

Without a word, Madara crawled in with her, but he didn't pull her into his embrace. Ayana curled into his chest on her own, reaching out to grab his hand in two of her own. Ayana had long ago promised herself that she would protect Madara. She was going to, no matter the cost to herself. She wouldn't let him carry the guilt of her blood on his hands. In order to spare him the agony of having to choose between imprisoning her or destroying her, Ayana had made the choice for him. Grogginess was starting to creep into her mind, and her tongue felt thick. The poison she had drunk would make her death look natural and painless, in her sleep. He wouldn't have to feel guilty. Unless he had learned medicine while he faked his death, he might not suspect her demise was anything but natural. Then, Madara would be freed from the agony of her continued existence.

It was the last thing she could do for him.

"Whatever happens in this world, whatever path you take, I will always love you." Ayana swore, driven by knowledge of her impeding death to make sure Madara knew how she felt.

"You've already said that, woman. Shut up and sleep." He groused, reaching over lazily to cover her mouth. Lethargy infused her limbs as she reached up and tugged his hand down. Her eyes fluttered and her heart stuttered in her chest, but she forged on. If she fell unconscious, that would be it; she would never awaken again. Never be with Madara or her friends again.

Perhaps her choice was a cowardly one, but Ayana didn't want Madara to have her blood on his hands. And she knew that if he imprisoned her, he would carry the guilt of her unhappiness for the rest of her life. She knew she was hurting others. Mito would be devastated. Hashirama would blame himself. Little Tsunade and her parents would miss her horribly. All her clients would be disappointed in her, though she knew the shinobi in the clinic would be able to take care of them in her place.

But, she would have protected Madara's soul. That's all she wanted.

"Never… alone, Madara." She mumbled, hazily flopping against him. As Ayana's consciousness started to drift, she felt Madara's arms slowly wrap around her. Joy blossomed in her chest as he pulled her close, protectively stroking his free hand down her back.

"Ayana, just be quiet. We can talk in the morning." His low voice wrapped her up in a feeling of contentment. She smiled.

"Alright." Ayana lied, knowing that when morning came, she would be gone. But right now, she was held in his arms. He was with her. That was all Ayana had ever wanted.

Content, Ayana closed her eyes and let herself quietly slip away in Madara Uchiha's arms.

Chapter Ten

He woke when early morning light slanted across his eyes, irritating him awake. Even though one of his eyes was blinded by his return to the living, Madara could still sense the sunlight on his face. It was one of the first lessons his blind medic had taught him so long ago. To see without sight was to feel the world around him with all his other senses. Who knew her lessons would be so useful to him now? Thanks to her, most days he hardly noticed his impaired vision.

Frowning at the uncharacteristically chipper thoughts, he went to sit up when he felt something slip off his chest and thud to the floor. Eyes snapping open, he palmed a kunai even as he looked around. The only thing he saw was the worn blankets he'd piled on Ayana's bed to help them stay warm during the night. Putting his blade away, he turned to where Ayana should have been, only to discover the bed was empty.

Ayana wasn't a morning person, and never woke before him. Scowling, he swept his senses out as she had taught him, wondering how she'd managed to sneak out of the bed without waking him. Though she was a soft-footed woman, she had never mastered the shinobi art of moving silently. And because of how she saw, Ayana was often clumsy, knocking into things that didn't have any living energy for her to sense. Madara May have been away from his woman for years, but he knew that she hadn't changed. No, he'd been the one to do that. So how would Ayana sneak out of his bed? Perhaps it was because of his condition?

He'd been overly tired, having spent the last few weeks doing more experimenting than eating or sleeping, but he wasn't so weakened that a civilian woman would be able to sneak by him. Nor had he ever been able to relax enough in Ayana's company to completely turn off the part of him that was always on high alert. Even back when they'd been lovers, Madara had never fully trusted Ayana. After all their years apart, there was no way he relaxed during their night together. But he didn't feel her quiet energy in the kitchen, cooking breakfast like he'd expected. In fact… Madara didn't sense any life in the hut except for his own. Had she… left? Was she going to betray him to Hashirama?

The thought brought him more pain than it should. A part of him, a quiet, lonely part that he tried to pretend didn't exist, laughed at him for his anger. Did he have the right to be upset at Ayana when he was the one who had betrayed first? Madara knew how deeply Ayana cared and how easily she was hurt, and yet her practically abandoned her after their child had been killed. Unable to face his own pain, there had been no way he could have tried to hold hers, as well. So he had left, convinced only that a world which caused such a woman pain did not deserve his protection at all. That was his truth, and he would always no one to stop him from fixing that grievous wrong. Not even if the person trying to hinder him was Ayana.

Growling, Madara sat up and went to stand when he saw her.

She was sprawled on the floor on her back, white limbs laying limply on the ground. Even after all their years apart, the sight of her could always take his breath away. She's had that effect on him from the first time they met as children, but now… his heart hammered in his chest as he stared down on her. He saw, but he refused to believe it. Her dark black curls, brushed with the slightest hint of silver next to her temples, fanned out around her like a dark rug. Her face was serene, slight smile twisting up her delicate blush colored lips. The icy paleness of her skin seemed to glow with an almost divine light in the morning sun.

"Ayana?" Madara called her name softly, crouching by her side as he reached out a hand to her. When he touched her, his entire body froze. She was stiff, and cold. He'd been around death since his birth; if there was one thing he could recognize instantly, it was a dead body. But this body was Ayana. She was his woman. She should never have that stiff, lifeless feel like a corpse. Ayana should not be dead, not while he still hadn't fixed the terrible wrongs of the world to give her the happiness she'd once told him about.

He'd sworn to himself long ago to always protect her. How had she ended up…?

Madara couldn't even finish the thought. His hands clenched tightly as he knelt bedside Ayana. He was willing to do anything to make the peaceful world of his dreams a reality. He had turned his back on his beloved clan, left his village, and even tried to kill his best friend without any regret. His current plan was one that would cause pain in hundreds of lives, but he didn't care. Madara has thought nothing could move him, had convinced himself that his resolve was impenetrable. And yet… his hands shook as his ragged breath struggled through a thick throat.

"No…" He growled, picking her up. He easily stood, her sight weight nothing to his arms. She had always been skinny, but now she felt insubstantial in his hold. Madara stared at her face, willing her to smile at him, to prove it was all just a nightmare he'd wake from soon.

Her eyes did not flutter, no color rising to her cheeks because he was touching her. That shy, loving smile he secretly adored and lived to see manifest didn't chase across her face. Laying her on top of the bed, Madara leaned over, pressing his forehead against hers. Closing his eyes, he searched for any spark of life that might remain, but found nothing. The truth hit him harder than any blow he'd weathered from Hashirama.

Ayana was dead.

Madara Uchiha, one of the most feared shinobi in the world, physically staggered as the realization drove him down to his knees. Leaning heavily against the bed, he dusted the blankets in a tight grip as he struggled to breath. Anger, hate, fear, it all swam inside of him. He was angry at the world for taking his woman, hated that once again the one person he had sworn to keep safe was snagged away from under his nose. And afraid. So afraid. He was… alone. Madara felt like a yawning chasm was opening within his soul, swallowing him whole in its endless abysmal darkness.

How had he allowed this to happen? Nothing dangerous would have been able to get near her, not while he was with her. He would have sensed it, yet he had dozed straight through the night with her warmth against him. No ninja was strong enough, or stealthy enough to sneak past him, not even Hashirama. He would have noticed. Scanning Ayana's body, he saw no wounds. He couldn't see any external injuries. Madara's hands shook as he lifted the dress covering her, checking closer. No puncture wounds or pinpricks that could have been used to administer poison –

Madara stilled. Putting her clothes back in place, Madara rushed to the table where they had spoke last night. Trusting his memory, he pulled the pouches she had used to make their tea out. While medicine and herbs had never been something he studied, Madara was well known as a genius. He'd also spent a large portion of his life just watching Ayana and listening to her as she prepared her medicines. He could recall what herbal mix was used for what. Opening them, he recognized the one she'd poured into his cup as an herbal chamomile blend. When he opened her tea packet, though, he found himself looking at an herb that was well known for its extreme toxicity, especially when ingested. It was a favored poison used in espionage or assassination missions, usually slipped into a targets drink.

The pouch fell from his trembling hand, scattering its contents across the beaten earth floor. Madara stared at his leather-covered hands. In his mind, he replayed the memory of drinking tea with Ayana last night. He'd been watching her closely, afraid she would turn against him, but she had sipped from her cup with a sad smile, sorrowful eyes rarely leaving him. He'd thought she'd stared because of his changed state. His arrogance had assumed his woman was staring in awed affection… not that she was trying to memorize his features. Thanks to his eyes and his superior abilities, every damn detail played out in his mind. He saw Ayana's wrinkled nose when she sipped her drink and how her hands shook on the glass. How arrogant he was to assume it was because of him!

"Shit!" He cursed, slamming his hand down on the roughly been wooden table as his entire body boiled with rage and sorrow. Choking back the scream he wanted to release, Madara tried to control himself, to think. He couldn't let his emotions spiral out of control. If Hashirama or his sniveling brother sensed his chakra, then everything Madara had worked for would be destroyed. Closing his eyes, Madara tried to reason it out. If he could understand Ayana's reason, then maybe…

Ayana had drunk the poison herself. No one had threatened her other than him, but even she should have known that was an empty one. But why would she kill herself? She loved life and would never have wanted the ones left behind to suffer because of her. Even after the tragedy that ultimately lead to his cowardly leaving her behind, she hadn't let the sorrow crush her. Madara had watched her, secretly. He'd seen how Ayana managed to continue living without him. She'd made a name for herself in the village. She was a trusted member of Hashirama's inner circle. Never once had negative emotions defeated her. So… why?

That one thought managed to repeat dully in his stunned brain. Ayana had killed herself. Why? Why had she done it? Even as the question screamed in his head, though, he knew the answer. He just didn't want to accept it. His heart and soul shattered in his chest as he realized what had driven his strong, loving woman to remove her light from his life.

Clenching his fists, he stood and stumbled back to where she was lain out. Kneeling next to the bed, her grabbed her hand and clutched it like a lifeline. There was no tender sweetness in her touch, though. The comfort he gained from being with her was gone. Madara could no longer feel the heat of her skin, or enjoy the shy way she would folded her fingers into his grip.

"You knew. You knew I couldn't allow you to return. To save me from having your blood on my hands, you killed yourself." He spoke to her corpse, words tripping out of him despite his desire to remain silent. Throat burning, Madara lowered his head and closed his eyes. The guilt of being the one to make Ayana choose death was destroying his calm, threatening his unbreakable control.

"I wouldn't have been able to hurt you, Ayana," he swore, reaching out blindly to lay his free hand over her stomach where their precious child had once resided so long ago, "I was going to make this world safe for you. I was going to give you back your sight. I've stolen Hashirama's cells; I know I would have been able to fix your eyes. And then I would have been able to live in peace with you. Forever."

That had been his dream. He had wanted to create a world where Ayana wouldn't be hurt just for being a woman, or blind, or his. It was written on the tablet how he could force true peace upon the world, so he had set out to do so despite knowing how much pain it would cause without any hesitation. But now, he wavered. If he carried out his plan now, he would be alone. There would be no one to celebrate the brith of a truly peaceful realm with him. His happiness would never be realized because the one person who could have helped him was gone.

Clenching her clothes in his fist, Madara lifted his head and stared at her. Perhaps she wasn't gone for good yet. The amount of power at his disposal was such that he was able to frighten people just by telling them his name. His skills were able to carve out the earth. He had even been able to cheat death. Surely, he could do something about Ayana. And if he couldn't now, then what about in the future? He was certain the world would keep getting more despicable, and devise new ways to control and torment others. If some way of bringing Ayana back was presented to him, he would not hesitate to take it.

Mind made up, he lifted her body in his arms and strode through the hut. The familiar tangle of roots that made of the walls, Ayana's jars and medical herbs, he didn't see them as he walked. In his mind, he was planning what he had to do. When he reached the front, he glanced behind him. Hashirama would surely come looking for her. It was possible the Senju shinobi would be able to track them if he left evidence, and if Hashirama figured out where he was, then all his planning would be for naught. There was only one solution.

He had to make Hashirama think Ayana was dead.

The embers of last night's fire still glowed in the heavy black pot sitting on the floor. Madara kicked it over and watched the tiny flame flare to life. Though it was small, given enough time, the flame would have been enough to eat Ayana's home. The amount of wood and kindling in her home would see to that. Madara was inpatient, though. Deciding to help it along, he cradled Ayana with one arm and wove a few signs with one hand. Feeling the chakra building, he blew out a small blast of fire before leaping away from the large fireball now engulfing the tree-home. He stood in the deep snow, watching the fire catch hold, before he turned and vanished into the white dawn.

Sensory type shinobi would have felt the surge of his chakra, and would come to investigate. Knowing Hashirama, he would likely join them, as the man knew the section of woods currently ablaze held Ayana's home. Madara had been careful, though. He hadn't used his family's fire jutsu; instead, he'd used a simple one all shinobi could learn. The flames would destroy any physical evidence he had left behind before Hashirama could find him out. So now, he just had to bide his time and wait.

It didn't take him long to reach the caves he'd been hiding in ever since he returned to the living. Well hidden miles away from the heart of the Leaf Village's patrol areas on the outskirts of the land of fire, the deep complex of tunnels were a dark and claustrophobic den from which Madara was building the groundwork for his revenge. Most of the caves were small and connected by narrow tunnels. He had transformed the largest cavern into his main residence. It was a large vaulted space with plenty of room for him to exercise, practice, and experiment. While some of his research was kept in smaller side caves, not all of it was. The most important research was in the large cavern, and his bed were there, as well.

Clearing his notes off the low table he used for research in the largest cave, Madara laid Ayana down on the wooden surface. A part of him was upset to see her lain out on his lab table, but he pushed that quiet objection away. Wasting no time, he hurried back to where he was cultivating Hashirama's cells. He didn't have very much, and had been injecting them into himself in an effort to awaken the rinnegan, but he would spare a few for his lover. He was going to bring her back; Madara could not stand to be in the world alone.

He needed Ayana.

The rest of the world he had no problem turning his back on. But he could not deny Ayana. It was weak of him, but his heart still beat in his chest. He was still alive, and he would always crave her. Even if he didn't have her love anymore, if his path in life had taken that from him, he would still have her body. Last night had proven they still had that chemistry, at least. He had never felt desire for anyone else before, no did he want to try to find it with any other. Ayana could provide him with some comfort… and keep him from losing sight of himself in the darkness he swam in. As long as Ayana existed, Madara Uchiha would continue on as well.

Lifting her hand, Madara kissed her icy skin. With the application of Hashirama's cells, her regenerative abilities would increase exponentially. Of course, with her body effectively being dead, he would have to manually simulate life until he found a way to pull her soul back from the afterlife. There were ways to do so temporarily, of course, but he didn't want a fake Ayana. He wanted the real woman, in her original body. While he was keeping her alive… Madara's eyes fell on her closed eyes.

With Hashirama's cells and his genius, he might be able to gift Ayana with sight. While he was at it, he could reverse the ravages of time. Restoring her youth so that she would eternally be healthy and Hale would keep a tragedy from taking her from him again. He ran a clinical eye over her figure and nodded. Squeezing the hand he still held, he chuckled joylessly.

"I will bring you back, Ayana, and then… I will create a world where you never have to suffer again." He swore, placing her hand back down and getting to work. It would take him most of his life, he knew. What he was going to attempt was too vast to be accomplished by one soul. There would need to be puppets, powerful ninjas he could control to manipulate things the way he needed. Madara would try to keep his influence hidden as much as possible, to prevent his plan from being discovered until it was too late.

The plot started to formulate in his head. Madara would need to find someone capable of performing the powerful jutsu to resurrect the dead the ancient scrolls had spoken of. It would be best if he artificially crafted someone to do it, and made sure they followed his wishes exactly. How to do it, though, when his own eyes were no awoken yet? Grooming someone from childhood would offer the most assurances of loyalty.

He glanced back over at Ayana. She would despise what he was planning to do. It would wound her loving heart to know of his plans. Madara didn't care. He would bring her back and give her sight. All he had ever wanted was for those he loved to be safe and happy. He'd failed all his brothers. The village had stolen Hashirama from him. And Ayana had suffered more than any of them. If she had sight, and if all wars were gone, then the world would be perfect for her. She had claimed the only thing she needed for happiness was to be with him; he would grant her that wish.

"I'll need to control the Uchiha. The clans power will be necessary." He muttered, mouth twisting at the thought of those weak-willed fools who had allowed themselves to become the slaves of the village. Soon they would start to resent the chains they had willingly bound themselves in. He would fan that spark. The stone tablet had whispered secrets of their lineage to them and he would make use of it. Manipulation, deception, he, Madara would use it all.

To create a place where everyone was happy, he would have to subjugate the entire world.

OKAY! So, yes, this is marked as complete. And yes, this is where THIS ends. However, I am working on a kind of epilogue/sequel/fix-it story to follow this up. Progress is beyond slow, though. So... please forgive this horrid ending!