They broke ground, literally, the next spring. Well, Hashirama broke ground. Apparently, he had been practicing how to grow trees in such a wall that it sent a clear signal to the rest of the world the strength and protection they could offer clans who joined them. The walls that Hashirama raised could've fit the entire Capital of Fire Country within, and still have plenty of room left over for some enterprising farmers and ranchers.
"Show off," Madara declared blandly, refusing to show Hashirama just how impressed he actually was.
Hashirama nudged him with his elbow and winked.
"Sweet," Senju Touka declared as she herded the other Senju women and children forward. Madara entered their village, side by side with Hashirama, and chose to ignore how warily his clan followed at his heels. Not because they were surrounded by Senju, but because his own reputation and the steadily growing fear.
His vision was crystal-clear, thanks to his brother's eyes – it had been all too easy to see the fear. He had done his best to avoid using his Mangekyo Sharingan over the winter, trying to mitigate the damages caused by fighting a tailed beast with a gigantic summoned skeleton warrior and then drinking the blood of his enemy (damn that Shinzou to the hallowed halls of Vallwhachamacallit, to the oh-so-fine company of clan-murdering berserkers). It took a great deal of convincing his clan that indoor plumbing really was the wave of the future, as most people felt it was incredibly unhygienic to have the toileting facilities in the same building as the cooking facilities. Luckily, he was able to make them see that not only did walls separate everything, but also that the toileting facilities would be warm changed many minds, given that this last winter had been colder than normal.
The lands that Hashirama raised the walls of Konohagakure upon were pristine, as most of the Nara territory was. And standing in the middle of the field, on the other side of the wall that he had created, was a very grumpy looking Nara Shikataro.
"I want a rematch," the Nara clanhead grumbled as a young child ran screaming past him, trying to kill another screaming child with what appeared to be a misshapen pinecone. Probably one of those loud, obnoxious, abandoned Inuzuka sons.
"You got a forest," Hashirama replied, proudly pointing to the walls.
"My forest."
"If you didn't want to lose, then you should've have bet it."
Nara Shikataro rotated his head back and forth, cracking the vertebrae in his neck. "Or maybe I wanted a wall around my forest so I wouldn't have random Inuzuka ninken stealing my deer again."
Hashirama grinned as he threw his arm around Shikataro's shoulders. Shikataro stiffened and looked very uncomfortable, although Madara wasn't sure if it was Hashirama's proximity, or all the barely-restrained energy that seemed to radiate from Hashirama. "And look, I threw in a wall just for you, even though you lost two out of three hands!"
oOoOoOo
Gradually, other clans came. Some came initially for trading, and stayed for the free property that was offered to their clans; others came seeking protection; some came just for gossip.
"We're here to do some summer trading," Natsumi cheerfully declared the day that she and her kinsmen and ninken showed up, three months after Hashirama raised the walls. "And we're nosy."
Madara twitched, because time and distance had faded his memory of Natsumi's ridiculously-sized bosom. "You can smell what's going on from a hundred kilometers away. Why would you need to show up?" The fact that she was toting a set of white-haired, red-eyed newborn twins while her breasts leaked milk didn't help his sense of horror in the least.
"As I said, we're nosy." Then she wandered off to torment Tobirama, and Madara almost felt sorry for him, especially when Natsumi immediately denied any Senju paternity of the two girls.
As the village became larger, the world became smaller. When recognizing that the Fire Country was, essentially, solidifying its power by allowing clans to unite together in peace, rather than kill each other off, other countries began to realize that there was strength in such wisdom. Other hidden villages began to form, and clans that were traditionally nomadic slowly because village-bound. Even landed clans, like the Hyuuga, surrendered such to achieve a higher status in the village.
But there would always be those who would fail at such a life – the disenfranchised, the misanthropic, the wanderer, and the criminal. With more clans joining the village, there were fewer independent clans maintaining their territory, and so the bandits and other criminals grew bold.
The Inuzuka were one of the last major clans to finally become village bound. Madara wasn't present when they arrived six years after Konoha was established; he heard it from his eleven-year old nephew, Obito. Natsumi had been in a tremendous fight – one that not only left her disfigured and head-damaged, but had also killed her ninken, Umeboshi, and her twin daughters, Momo and Sakura. Whatever had happened to Natsumi had frightened Shinzou so much that she single-handedly dragged her entire clan, overnight, to Konoha, seeking protection for her women, children, and ninken. Madara wasn't sure what could've brought down someone as strong as Natsumi, considering how she had managed to fight on equal footing with a berserker that had slaughtered dozens of his men.
Then again, Madara knew that intelligence ultimately trumped strength, and Natsumi's strength didn't exactly rest with her logic or strategy.
He was unfamiliar with head damage. Some of his clansmen had received such head trauma that they lost their memories, lost the ability to form memories, or even lost their personalities. It all depends, Hashirama had explained to Madara, which part of the brain that was effected from the trauma. Natsumi, by all rights, took such tremendous blows to the head, that the only reason she survived was because of her Uzumaki regeneration. Unfortunately, the trauma was so thorough that her brain couldn't fully regenerate and recover.
Natsumi lost her sense of smell and, based on the number of times Madara actually had to bring her back to the Inuzuka compounds when he found her lost and wandering the village, her sense of direction. The first four months that she wandered, it was like watching a listless ghost.
Madara could understand.
Natsumi lost her daughters, her canine partner, her way of life, and her remarkable sense of smell, in a single night. She hadn't even regained consciousness when Shinzou showed up at Konoha.
Such are the winds of change, Madara mused, as he pawned Natsumi off on Tobirama one day, because there was always something about the ratfink that seemed to bring back that part of Natsumi's soul that enjoyed poking people for her own personal amusement. And, as Tobirama usually did whenever Natsumi latched onto him, he hauled her off to a ramen stand. They should cut back on the noodles, Madara thought, seeing as how she was putting on some significant weight. … Of course, it was hard to tell, given the size of her chest and how the Inuzuka women had been pressured into covering more skin since they came to Konoha.
oOoOoOo
"I think Natsumi loves Tobirama," Bashira said one Wednesday afternoon, nearly seven years to the day since Izuna's death. She and Madara were on protection detail for the Fire Daimyo as he traveled to the Autumn Suna Bazaar. "The Sage knows what she sees in him. Senju Tobirama is one hell of a sadistic bastard, and Natsumi isn't masochistic. I don't know how they get along so well. He's a real ratfink, isn't he?"
Madara decided, then and there, that Bashira was his favorite Inuzuka. The fact that she had a modest chest and she dutifully kept it covered since the Inuzuka moved to Konoha was just a bonus. The fact that she had also convinced the Daimyo that she and Madara were best used to scout ahead for dangers – when her nose clearly reported that there wasn't any actual danger – so they could get away from the smothering nobility that trailed the Daimyo like a cloud of sycophants was enough to make him propose marriage.
(Shame she said no. Something about how Inuzuka women didn't get married, and Shinzou would never approve, and he just wanted her horse summons anyway…)
oOoOoOo
When Madara came across the two small bodies in the forest, he knew that they were beyond any earthly help. He didn't know if they had died before they were born, or if they had died from exposure. The infants rested on a rotted stump, side by side, wrapped in fresh linens as white as the surrounding snow. The ground was too frozen to dig a shallow grave, and it was so late in the year that even if he did, a desperate scavenger would only dig them up for food. Their hair was carrot-orange, barely visible beneath the thick layer of frost.
"What should we do, Uncle?" Hakuchou asked. Her voice was muffled, even though the glade of aspen they stood in was barren and open to the surrounding winter. Madara had been scouting the outside perimeter of Konoha, showing his niece and nephew how to read tracks in the snow. The snow around the infants was undisturbed.
"We'll hold a funeral pyre," he replied after a moment. "Someone might've loved these babies."
Obito tsked and shook his head. "If they loved the babies, why leave them here?"
Madara didn't answer as he and his niece and nephew gathered kindling from beneath the wet, heavy snow. The small pyre they made was lit with a Grand Fireball, and the wet wood billowed black smoke as the bodies burned. It took several Grand Fireballs to maintain the funeral pyre until the bodies were reduced to ashes. Madara silently watched and prayed that their spirits would find freedom in the air that carried the smoke.
The desolate forest, trunks stark black against the faded white of snowfall seemed quietly perfect for a funeral of two, witnessed by three. He refused to entertain any thoughts on what sort of mother would leave two small babies alone in the glade.
At least, he didn't, until they ran into Tobirama and Natsumi.
Natsumi was crouched at the base of an old tree, shivering and most likely half-naked beneath the cloak that Tobirama had wrapped her in. She had clawed bloody rents across her scarred face, trails of fresh blood dribbled between her legs, and her shoulders heaved with dry sobs. Tobirama barely spared the Uchihas a flickering red glance, before he turned his attention back to keeping Natsumi's arms pinned to her side.
"My babies – she took my babies. I can't find my baby boys." Natsumi tossed her head and smacked Tobirama in the cheek. Tobirama grunted and turned his head to prevent another clobber to his face. Natsumi looked at Madara. She seemed so young and vulnerable, eyes half-crazed with grief. "Help me, please. Help me – Shinzou took my babies, and I can't smell them. I can't find my babies." She sobbed. "I want my babies back, Madara. Please help me find my babies back."
It took less than a heartbeat for Madara to put two and two together – it was nearly nine months since the Inuzuka had come to Konoha. And he had noticed Natsumi had gained some weight…Oh. Oooooohhhhh. Maybe it hadn't been the ramen. Or at least not just the ramen. And handing her a bowl of ash and bone probably wouldn't help her grief all that much.
Madara crouched in the bloodied snow in front of Natsumi as his Sharingan flickered to life, and then morphed into the Mangekyo. She was everything he loathed – vulnerable, weak, rude, demanding, Inuzuka. But he well remembered his brother's grief, and how the Curse of Hatred had been borne over the corpse of an unborn child no larger than the palm of Izuna's hand. "Inuzuka-san, look at me." She looked at him, eyes bright with fear – he loathed such a sight in her eyes.
Natsumi's face went slack as Madara captured her in the genjutsu. When he felt Tobirama's killing intent spike, he spoke softly to explain what she would be seeing for the next seventy-two hours. "Your babies are stillborn, and there was never any possibility that they could be revived. You will hold them in your arms, and you will say your goodbyes to them, and to the futures they will never have. You will realize that some people live before they die, and some die before they live, and you will grieve for your sons for as long as you live, but you will also know that there was nothing you could have done to change this. You will take them to the forest, accompanied by those who have loved and supported you the most, and together, you will light the funeral pyre. In the sparks of the pyre, you will see the spirits of your daughters catch the spirits of your sons, and you will watch them drift away. And while you will grieve for your lost children the rest of your life, you will also find comfort in knowing that they are together, and that when you die, they will have waited for you."
Her eyes drifted closed as his words drifted into silence. Beneath her closed eyelids, he saw flickering movement. Her body relaxed, becoming limp in Tobirama's arms. Madara allowed his Sharingan to fade as he raised his gaze to Tobirama's. "You never saw us," he said, rising from his crouch. He waved to Obito and Hakuchou, silently directing them to keep pace.
"I shall never forget," Tobirama replied. "It is as my brother said. Defenses borne of love withstands the greatest attacks of hate. Hate cannot take root where love blooms, Uchiha."
Madara took three steps away, and then stopped. He looked over his shoulder at his brother's children. Like everyone else in the clan, they flinched when the weight of his gaze rested upon them. Even though he had lived his entire life protecting them, teaching them to defend themselves against attackers, training the boy and the girl to become skilled Uchiha warriors, they still feared him, as did all the other Uchiha. And if his own clanspeople feared him, why shouldn't outsiders?
He felt so alone that, sometimes, he hated and cursed Izuna for dying.
"Listen well, Senju, for I shall saw this only once." He dropped into a crouch once again, but this time so that his eyes would be level with Tobirama's. Tobirama had always hated Madara – but he had never feared Madara. He would allow himself to fall to the same level as Tobirama, just this once, in deference to the utter lack of fear. "It's not that the Uchiha hate so well, but that we love too much. We love so deeply, so strongly, so passionately, that when we lose the object of our love, we become so lost and consumed with hate that it breaks us. I don't hate because I have no love, I hate because I have loved too hard. I hate because I failed those whom I loved. And above all, I hate myself."
And with those final words, Madara left Tobirama and Natsumi to the silent darkness of the surrounding woods. His niece and nephew silently followed his path, too scared to walk side-by-side with their uncle.