Madara spent the evening roaming aimlessly, allowing his anger to fester while he replayed his conversation with Mego along with each previous time he could remember where he perceived her to be less than respectful to him. She was under stress, alright, but so was he! – He thought. His parents used to be stressed, having lived through so much war and loss, and he never once witnessed his mother talk down to his father. Or the other way around.

For a moment he had to stop and wonder whether his parents truly were so reverent when left alone. Maybe behind closed doors Tajima listened to complaints and the blame for failing to keep his children safe on the battlefield? He didn't think it to be likely. When he thought kids had gone to sleep, Tajima used to cry and apologize and beg his wife for forgiveness, and she'd just hold him closer. A tiny smile lingered upon his lips at the memory. He'd almost forgotten about it; ever since she died, he kept forcing himself not to think of his mother much. As a child, becoming emotional was way too dangerous.

What kind of example had Mego's parents set for her, suddenly came to his mind? If Amako had always been the one to claim the last word as she did in old age, this situation he'd found himself in wasn't at all surprising. Still, up until recently Mego displayed almost fearful appreciation for him. Apparently, as a brother in law he was worthy of awe, but as a husband, not so much?

His pointless walking had led him a full circle, and he stood by the lake, looking at their home. Light flickered behind the one window and thick white smoke swayed from the chimney. A shadow would occasionally pass, as Mego moved around inside.

He was to fault, and no one else, Madara decided, his anger leaving his wife and returning to focus solely on himself. He had been indecisive, fretted, displayed his weakness right before her. In order to respect him, she had to trust his judgment; to follow his lead, she had to feel at ease and let go.

Having grown up hiding his feelings, one would think he'd be better at managing them now. He'd chuckle at the irony were his mood just a bit better. Instead, he nodded to himself briefly and slowly made way for the house.

He could hear movement as soon as he opened the door, and once inside, was met with two puffy Uchiha eyes. Her hands came for one of his, brought it to her chest and held it tightly. Tears began to run again, and strained voice fought its way through them,

"Forgive me… I shouldn't have—You must know how much I'd always respected you—It's just that—"

"Shh. Breathe." Madara interrupted her avalanche of words without hurry. His free hand reached up to softly tuck some stray hair behind her ear and rest there. "It's alright. Mind your words from now on, and I will too."

A brief set of nods later, and her hands abandoned his and came instead for his middle. Her petite frame snuggled close against him, face buried in his chest. He allowed one arm to rest around her shoulders as he waited for her to have her fill.

"You're cold…" Mego noticed in muffled voice, sounding positively worried for the fact.

"I'd been out a while—"

"You're cold to me..." She corrected him. Having stepped back, she looked up to find his eyes again, "You've not forgiven me?"

"I said let it go." He whispered in return. "You've respected me when I was worthy of respect. I'd gotten too comfortable and forgot myself as of late. I will be the husband you can look up to, again."

"I don't want you to not be comfortable! Who will you forget yourself with if not me?!" Soft palms came to warm his cheeks, but the warmth wouldn't sway him; nothing would. "I am comfortable. I forget myself as well – a-and I know I shouldn't – but you're my own. We have no one here but each other." She smiled, thinking her words were getting her somewhere. "We're each other's lovers, neighbors, help; everything."

"Not for long." His fingers easily enveloped Mego's wrists to remove her manipulating touch. His clasp was light, though it seemed the sentiment behind it was very clear to her, for the gentle smile quickly made room for concern. "Soon, we'll be surrounded by other people. And just like I don't tolerate brashness when we're alone, I won't tolerate it in front of neighbors and our child. You and I are going to lose a bit of our comfort and treat each other as spouses should."

Her attempts at having her way by planting sentimental seeds in his head were mildly irritating, but he found himself not holding it against her. It was only natural for a woman to have a better way with words than him, and to take advantage of it. He took advantage of his strength daily, and they both profited from it.

With that said, he expected pushback; tears even. He was given, however, a brief nod. She didn't seem glad, but wasn't denying him.

"You agree?"

"I'm not sure." Mego sighed and released her wrists which he was still holding. "But I made you feel like I don't trust you, so we'll remedy that. It'll be as you say."

"Thank you."

As it was late in the night already, she went to get ready for sleep, and Madara poked the fire and added a couple more logs to it. Winter hadn't even properly began, but up near the mountain, cold and snow were no surprise even in the fall. On his way to change into his sleeping clothes as well, he passed by that soup Mego had cooked, noticing she'd kept it warm. However, it was too late and his appetite hadn't yet returned.

Having joined her under covers and furs, Madara closed his eyes, though he could tell sleep wouldn't come easily. Ever since they came up here, he had developed a habit of questioning his own judgment, so he couldn't help but wonder whether he'd done the right thing. Something had to be done, he knew that. As much as his and Mego's love went way back, there were certain behaviors that were rightfully expected from them both. In the end, he'd have to do the very thing he'd asked her – trust in himself.

"If you keep looking so intensely, you'll obtain a Sharingan." He remarked, unable to keep quiet about it. He could almost hear her stare at him in the darkness. Her sigh came out sounding heavily burdened while she shifted on the cushion.

"We can still hug… and all?"

A smile played on his lips, but he didn't wish to mock her concern. Clearing his throat, he shifted his position too and came closer. He wrapped his arm around her, and allowed her to make herself cozy at his side, resting against his chest. Resting was a strong word, since she remained stiff, almost fearfully placing her hand over his ribs, like they hadn't been falling asleep in that exact manner countless times before.

Slowly, his lips found her forehead and placed a warm kiss there, hoping to help her relax.

"I love you. Nothing's changed in that regard." He whispered. "We simply laid down some boundaries."

"Alright." Came a murmur in return. Sometime with the last pops of the fire, they'd both relaxed enough to drift away into sleep.

…

Night and day had switched places sooner than Mito preferred at that particular time, noting Tobirama and Sumi might leave the house that very evening, or the morning after. Either way, that left her with very little time to show him she was willing to work with Hashirama. Would he really go to her father and tell him everything? Yes, knowing Tobirama, it was likely he would.

She made way for Hashirama's library, knowing that's likely where he'd be found at that time of day, wondering what they would even talk about.

She was being unreasonable, and needed no one else to point it out. Senju Hashirama was kind, strong, reliable, successful, and she had no doubts her father would disown her should he ever learn of the way she treated such a great man. She could hear him as if he stood right beside her – all the hardships their clan endured could be solved, since he hadn't gotten any sons, she should at least do her best to make him proud… All truths, all important. And, even more than her father's, she dreaded the reactions of the Uzumaki council. Unlike with him, she wouldn't be able to count on their empathy; they had none.

A tiny little hope dared bloom in her mind – with Tobirama gone, maybe it would become easier? Perhaps the idea of allowing her husband closer wouldn't make her gut turn any longer? She couldn't be sure, however, he and his Uchiha were both still under this same roof.

Her hand hovered pointlessly by the door for a few moments, before she inhaled a calming breath and knocked on the wood. She could hear conversation as it went on inside. It was stopped for a moment for the known voice of her husband to call her inside absently, to only continue as before. Mito went in.

"So, she just dropped it?" Hashirama asked the person who sat facing away from Mito, but the dark braid of hair revealed them easily as Uchiha Sumi. "That's strange."

"I was surprised, too. I tried bringing it up the last time she visited, but she wouldn't even speak of it anym—" The woman fell quiet once her brother in law stood from his seat, and looking over her shoulder, she offered a friendly smile.

"Mito?" Her name left his lips almost as a gasp, and she put some proper effort into copying the Uchiha's own smile as she regarded them both,

"Sumi, my lord."

"Just use my name." Hashirama waved off the need for formality, gesturing towards a free chair, "Join us."

"Well…" The Uchiha spoke nearly as soon as Mito took her seat, "I should go now." She said, standing.

"Please, continue watching Lady Amako, sister in law. This change in attitude worries me."

"I will, brother in law. Have a good day." She greeted them both and left.

"Lady Amako?" Mito inquired once the door was closed again, grateful for the topic of conversation that had presented itself. She had no ideas of her own, and didn't think it was fair to leave it to Hashirama to grapple with what they would talk about. He'd been enduring enough unfairness as it was.

"Uchiha Amako, Madara's mother in law."

"Ah…" And there it was. No elaboration, no mutual conclusions to be drawn and bonded over. Then again, she didn't know Uchiha Amako, or her daughter, and she barely even knew Uchiha Madara. There was no reason for Hashirama to share their issues with her. Best get to the point then, right? "I hoped we could talk…" About? How I'd been a spoiled, irresponsible menace when you'd been nothing but kind and loving to me and mine? For reasons that are better left unexplained since they can only do us all more harm than good. Thankfully, he took over,

"Me too. I decided to let you come to me, since you appeared overwhelmed anyway." He leaned back, his unusually straight hair swaying as he did, and gestured amicably, "Now we can finally solve this."

"Solve it how?"

"You tell me, Mito." It sounded almost like a dare, but he didn't sound threatening. "I am open to agreement. If what you wish is to end this marriage, I'll comply." She could always tell he wasn't a push-over, but would never assume he meant to provoke her. Until now, that is. "And I'll try to make it as painless as possible."

"Painless?" Her eyes roamed his features, looking for traces of anger, but they weren't there. He was indifferent, which was arguably worse. Important men from all across the known world came asking for her hand, boasting about their deeds, some done exclusively for the purpose of impressing her. And she had made her husband become indifferent to her.

"Uzumaki are welcome to stay in the village either way. I would have been fine with that in the first place, but our fathers insisted." Was he then always unmoved by her? Was that was he was telling her? With a subconscious frown, she waited to hear what else he had to say, irrationally displeased by the fact she was unwanted by the man she didn't want. "I'll make it known we never laid together. I won't permit any blame to come your way, either."

"So you wish to be rid of me?"

"Don't you? Because…"

"I know." Her eyes trailed away from him, settling for watching the not so intricate details of the wooden desk. "I have trouble adapting to new environment… And the expectations you'd have of me as a husband… I simply wasn't ready for them…" Oh, and I'd spent my maidenhood lusting for your brother, but don't worry about that.

Hashirama nodded slowly to her words.

"I've given you all the options. And I'd appreciate if you saved us both time."

"I don't want to end the marriage." Her words spilled, sounding like a single one, from the fast way she blurted them out. There was no way she could let her father down in such a manner. She could visualize him having to beg with that cursed council to forgive them both for her behavior and to not exempt her from the clan. He did not deserve such shame. At the cost of all the unhappiness in the world, she couldn't allow that.

"Alright." He agreed upon taking a few moments to think. "I expect you to share my chamber from now on, as well as to appear with me at important events."

Quietly, Mito agreed. She knew it was coming, sooner or later. That very night, he would indulge in the right he had on her, and that was that. She worked to steady her breathing and simply nod to his words as if it was nothing. At last, she stood from her seat, about to leave,

"And, Mito?"

She stopped once more, looking at his conventionally attractive features and, just like before, failing to get excited for them.

"Don't waste any more time." He went on, "My work is very draining, so I don't need my home life to be."

And once more, she agreed. It was true, he was right, and he was kinder than she would have been in his place. That didn't make the fact he was likely going to take her that very evening any easier to anticipate.