Glass Trinity, Chapter 13: The Curse Between Us, Part I
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

Izuna commanded his platoon to fire a joint Great Fireball in unison, and they scrambled to obey. He ran down the length of them, thirty in total, with his signature twin tantō drawn.

"Steady!"

Fire-laced chakra popped in the air near his ears as he ran, invisible to the naked eye but so clear to him. The enemy, however, was fast moving for a counterstrike. The Hyūga clan was small but powerful, a distant cousin of the Uchiha and one Madara was keen on using to his advantage. There was much riding on today's victory.

Izuna reached the end of the line. "Fire!"

The end of his long ponytail barely made it out of the blast range when his soldiers launched thirty enormous fireballs in tandem. The Hyūga forces across the rocky terrain of southern Earth Country were ready, however. They spun in succession and created an incredible wall of chakra thick enough to blur their forms even from Izuna's gifted eyes. The fireballs lurched through the air and hit the spinning wall with a hiss that started to dissolve them, but the Uchiha channeled more power to their techniques. It wouldn't be enough despite the effort, and beside him Izuna could see his comrades begin to pale and sweat from chakra exhaustion.

"Keep pushing!" he commanded.

His soldiers did their best to obey, and Izuna himself sheathed his swords. A burst of raw chakra hit his eyes and changed them into their Mangekyo form. The transformation brought with it a familiar lancing pain to his temples. He ignored it and let his chakra flow unrestricted.

"Amaterasu!"

Black tendrils appeared out of thin air and licked at the orange wall of fire the Uchiha were sustaining, slowly at first. They became more ravenous the longer Izuna concentrated, unblinking, until the ghost flames began to consume and grow the Great Fireballs. Shouts from the Hyūga soldiers soon turned to screams of agony and horror. Their general ordered a hasty anabasis in the face of the Uchiha's ghastly tactics.

The Uchiha whooped at their victory as Izuna covered his burning eye and released the Sharingan. He turned away from them to wipe the bloody tears from his eyes, the only visible evidence of his oncoming migraine.

"We did it!"

"The Hyūga were no match for our fire!"

Nearby, Madara's platoon was already converging on the stragglers in pursuit of their leader. Izuna picked him out from the crowd easily—his giant gunbai and scythe gave him away.

"Save the celebration for later, men," Izuna said. "My brother's still counting on us."

Never ones to question Izuna's authority, the team fell back into formation and marched to meet up with the rest of their kin. It didn't take long to catch up. The rocky outcropping where the Hyūga brigade had held up against Izuna's platoon was reduced to magma and char. Amaterasu continued to burn and sink deeper into the lava. It would stay that way for seven days and seven nights regardless of victory or loss, festering with the passage of time like a demon's grudge. Izuna eyed it as he passed. It smelled like wet ash and burning hair.

"Surrender. You're beaten," Madara said.

"The Hyūga will never bow to the Uchiha," said the Hyūga General. "You're nothing but a hiccup in our bloodline. An anomaly."

He was dressed in his best silver armor—the Hyūga were known for their wealth and the desire to flaunt it. He was an older man, patrician and clean-shaven, and like the rest of his kin, he wore his dark hair long and tied at the end. Veins bulged around his eyes, engorged with chakra.

"It usually takes an anomaly to break away from the diseased majority and carve out a path for the future," Madara said. He gestured with his arms all around. "I rest my case."

"Arrogant bastard. As if the noble Hyūga would ever follow lowborn filth like you."

Izuna went white and tried to move in time to stop Madara, but he was too slow. Madara dashed forward and swung his scythe in a cruel arc. It hit the general in the face and carved a line from his temple, through his lips and jaw, and down to his collarbone. Izuna stopped himself, stunned. The general cried out and stumbled backward. He pawed at his ruined face. A chunk of lip lay on the ground covered in blood, and one of his soldiers trampled it to get to him without even noticing.

The Uchiha looked on at Madara in silence. His hand shook, and Izuna dared not speak a word. The Hyūga General should have been lying dead for his insult.

He missed, Izuna thought.

"Next time I won't be so lenient," Madara said loudly enough for the rest of the Uchiha to hear. He pointed the bloody scythe at the rest of the gathered Hyūga. "Now, where's your leader? As Uchiha, we believe in parley between equals."

The Hyūga soldiers whispered among themselves while their general groaned in pain. They eventually parted, and a tall woman stepped forward. She wore battle armor, but nothing ostentatious. A ploy to throw off the enemy. It was a common defensive tactic among nobles. She was middle-aged but had a comely face, youthful. Izuna was reminded of the noble ladies he used to see as a child walking around the camps and gossiping, back when he was no better than a gnat in their eyes, if they saw him at all.

"That's enough. Madara Uchiha, your reputation for violence precedes you." She didn't bow, not even in greeting. "I am Hikaru Hyūga, first-born daughter of Hio, the third of her name. I am the leader of the great and noble Hyūga clan. You've slaughtered many good soldiers today. I hope you're pleased with yourself."

"Lady Hikaru, please stand back," said a Hyūga soldier.

He bore a strange tattoo across his forehead. In fact, most of the soldiers they had fought today bore those same tattoos. But Hikaru and the General didn't have them.

"So, it's true that you segregate those you deem beneath you," Madara said. "It's no wonder you lost today when you don't even value your own kin."

Hikaru ignored the slight. "You must know that I have no intention of taking orders from the likes of you. Instead, I propose a treaty. My people remain autonomous, and in return we'll supply you with silver."

Madara chuckled. "What is it with the rich thinking they can solve all their problems with money? I'm a soldier. The only silver I covet is a sharp blade."

Hikaru frowned. "Then what do you want? Subservience? We'll die before we bend the knee to you."

"I don't need you to bend anything on my behalf. Nature has its way of crowning kings, and all I have to do is wait. As for you, you can keep your precious jewels. They're obviously worth more to you than these soldiers you've branded. I'll be glad to take them off your hands."

Hikaru looked horrified. "Absolutely not. These are my men, sworn to protect the Main House with their lives. If you think I'm just going to auction them off to you—"

"Auction? Are your soldiers no better than chattel to you?" Madara said, his anger palpable. "Very well, then. Consider my bid a promise not to burn you where you stand. Going once, going twice..."

With a choice between death and compliance, in the end Madara got what he wanted. A platoon of nearly thirty Hyūga Branch House soldiers left with the Uchiha that day, and the rest of their kin were allowed to return home on the condition that more soldiers would replace those that would fall in later battles. Madara barked out orders to the Uchiha to integrate the new Hyūga soldiers into the training regimen and get them up to speed on Uchiha battle formations and strategies.

"Brother," Izuna said as he caught up with Madara later that night once they made camp.

"What do you want, Izuna?"

Izuna hovered at the entrance to his brother's makeshift tent. They were a few days' travel away from the main camp in Fire Country where they'd left their civilian and child population under the care of a couple trusted garrisons. Madara was busy looking over some new battle formations he'd been working on and hadn't wanted to leave behind at the main camp. He held them close to his face under candlelight and didn't bother looking up.

"The soldiers fought well today," Izuna said. "The Hyūga were strong."

"Not strong enough."

They both wore their usual navy yukata with the Uchiha fan emblazoned on the back. Madara's gunbai and the scythe he'd used to rip open the Hyūga General's face sat perched against the tent's far wall, cleaned and polished.

"What I mean is, they deserve a reward for all their hard work." Izuna paused, but Madara said nothing. "...Lately, we've been fighting non-stop. The Senju are one thing, but it seems like for every battle we fight with them, we wage two or three more against other clans."

Madara put down the scroll he was reading and finally looked up. "Do you have a problem with the way I'm commanding my soldiers?"

"No, I just meant—"

"Then what's the point of this conversation?"

Madara's eyes were red with the Sharingan, and Izuna frowned. "Were you reading that with the Sharingan activated?"

Madara rose from his chair, and his eyes faded back to black. "Did you come here to waste my time, or did you have something useful to say?"

Izuna tried to keep his face calm. This wasn't Madara leader of the Uchiha, but Madara his big brother. The only person he trusted implicitly. There was nothing to fear from being frank with him. "I came here to tell you that the soldiers need a break. You've been driving them hard with all the back-to-back campaigns, and they're exhausted. I think now that we've got the Hyūga on our side, it'd be a good time to show them a side of us that isn't killing their clansmen."

"They're resting now."

Izuna shook his head. "I mean a real break. Let our soldiers go home to their families, be with loved ones. Live their lives a little."

"I don't dictate the tides of war, Izuna; I'm just navigating them to our advantage. You know as well as I do that lassitude is the surest path of defeat. The Senju—"

"—aren't here right now. They haven't pursued us in months, not since we ambushed them during one of their jobs for Lord Kenshin." Izuna stepped forward and put a hand on Madara's shoulder. "Brother, please. I understand your situation. But ever since Haruka and your son..." He trailed off, even after so many weeks unwilling to pursue that particular subject. "For some time now, you've been digging us into a dark hole, and I'm afraid none of us will make it out at this rate."

Madara pushed Izuna's hand away. He showed him his back and crossed his arms. "Don't bring them into this. I'm just doing what's best for the Uchiha."

"No, you're drowning out the pain and forcing the Uchiha to shoulder it in your place. You've changed, Madara."

Madara spun around. The Sharingan blazed bright once more, and Izuna had to fight the urge to step back. "Are you accusing me of something? By all means, let's hear it. Today's fight wasn't quite enough to get me going, anyway."

Izuna activated the Sharingan on instinct, smelling the fighting spirit Madara exuded, but he put his hands up in surrender. "I don't want to fight you. Our mother would be turning in her grave to see you even suggest it."

At the mention of their mother, Madara scowled and receded back into himself. The red faded from his eyes, and after a protracted silence, he just stared at Izuna with a combination of bewilderment and regret. "Forgive me, Brother. I didn't mean it like that."

Izuna deactivated the Sharingan and dared to approach his fearsome leader again. He rested his hands on Madara's shoulders and held his gaze, searching. "You don't have to say anything. I understand, believe me. You can't let it go, and I get it. But this isn't you. We talked about reinventing this clan, but all we're doing is driving it to an early grave." He paused and thought about how Madara had viciously lashed out at the Hyūga General earlier. "Sometimes it's like I don't even recognize you anymore."

Madara put his hands over Izuna's wrists and breathed deeply. "You're right, I can't let it go. And I shouldn't have to. Not until I make sure nothing like that ever happens again. You get that, don't you? I can't stop, not now."

Izuna sighed. "And I can't stop you. Just...be careful. Put those scrolls away and rest. Mourn, and let our soldiers do the same."

"I've been mourning. I never want to mourn again."

Izuna just nodded. "I know."

They stood in silence a moment, and Izuna remembered all the times as kids when Madara would just sit with him at night after he had a bad dream. Silent, but always present. Madara had always been the stronger of the two of them. Seeing him like this was something Izuna was sure he would never get used to.

"By the way, I thought I should tell you," Izuna said, wanting to change the subject. "I met someone."

Madara frowned. "We know everyone in the clan. Who could you possibly have met?"

Izuna grinned. "No, I mean a girl. Well, a woman. A noble woman, actually."

"Is she pregnant?"

Izuna paled. "W-What? No! Of course not. Why would you even ask that?"

Madara shrugged like it was obvious. "I don't know why else you would tell me about your conquests."

Maybe he hasn't changed much, after all.

Izuna ran his fingers through his long bangs and began to pace. "I don't even have conquests, or whatever. And anyway, Kasumi's different."

"General Yurima's daughter? Does he know about this?"

"Well, it's...kind of private."

"You can't sleep with a general's daughter and hope to get away with it. If he finds out, he'll want you punished, and I won't be able to deny—"

"I love her, okay?" Izuna blurted out.

Silence ensued, and Izuna turned beet red as he realized what he'd just admitted. He sank to the floor and buried his face in his hands. "Oh, shit," he groaned.

"Huh," Madara said at length.

"Huh? That's all you have to say?!"

"I just didn't think you could work so fast. Perhaps there's hope for you yet."

Izuna gaped. "What does that mean?"

"You're trying to ask for my blessing to marry her. Aren't you?"

Izuna could have cried. "No! God, it's like you're not even listening!"

"Then why're you even telling me this?"

"Because you're my brother! And I just, you know, I thought you'd wanna know. I thought you'd be happy for me."

Madara's expression softened, and he sank to the floor to sit next to Izuna. He had the decency to look abashed. "Oh. Well, of course I'm happy for you. I didn't think that was ever a question."

Izuna nudged him with his shoulder, and Madara nudged him back. "I mean, yeah, I want your blessing to marry her. But we've been so busy with these campaigns, and I haven't even gotten around to asking General Yurima. I'm just sick of keeping this all to myself. And on top of it, I haven't even seen her in weeks."

Kasumi, like all the noble ladies, remained at the main camp in Fire Country whenever the soldiers left for their campaigns, which could take upwards of months depending on the mission.

"Ah, I get it now," Madara said. "You wanted a break so you could see Kasumi soon."

Izuna blushed again. "I mean, that's not really the reason, but it's a nice benefit."

Madara smirked. "Fine. Go home to your woman. And ask General Yurima for her hand before I have to do it for you."

"What about the soldiers?"

Madara considered this. "Take a platoon. You can return after a month and switch with the other platoon."

"Switch? You mean, you're staying?"

"The Kamizuru clan is marching through Earth Country to the south. I'm going to stop them."

"Madara, we just talked about this. Everyone needs a rest sometime."

"War doesn't sleep. Neither can I."

Izuna rose. Madara had made up his mind, and there would be no changing it now. "Fine, but after you should come home and rest. It's only a matter of time before you or the soldiers get sloppy and make a mistake out there. Even you need sleep."

"Yes, yes. Now go and let me figure out how I'll eradicate these vermin. Did you know they use bees to fight? Bizarre."

Izuna chuckled. "Sounds weird. I'll be sure to tell Kasumi about it when I see her."

"Good. Perhaps once you've married her, we'll finally be able to produce an heir to help us out in the future."

Izuna's breath caught in his throat, but Madara had already turned away and gone back to his plans. He wasn't even looking at Izuna.

"Tajima," Madara had confided to Izuna just hours after Haruka's suicide. "That's the name she chose for our son."

Izuna pulled back the tent flap gingerly, like he was afraid to make too much noise. "Goodnight, Brother."

He left, and Madara was so absorbed in his plans and tactics that he did not see him go.

It had been a little over seven months since she'd last seen him. Seven months since the tragedy that had shaken her to the core, and it hadn't even been her tragedy. She would never forget the way Haruka shut down as she cooed to the baby that had never taken a breath of life, and never would. Like waking from a dream, only to find out reality was the true nightmare. Even the rushing waters of the Naka River hadn't been loud enough to drown out Haruka's wails.

Mito had returned to the Uchiha camp that evening still soaking wet from her ablutions. Madara wasn't there, and she didn't look for him. All night she waited, and he never returned to the tent. It wasn't until the next morning that Izuna woke her before dawn and told her that Haruka committed suicide earlier that morning.

She'd found him in Haruka's tent after the body had already been cleared away. The sheets were rumpled and stained with blood from where she'd stabbed herself in the gut. In the end, she chose the honorable warrior's death. Disgraced in life, perhaps in death she could find some chance of redemption.

"Madara," Mito had called to him.

He didn't answer, so she approached and touched a hand to his shoulder. When he shied away, Mito didn't press him.

"I'm so sorry."

Still nothing. All he could do was stare at the bloody sheets, unmoving, unblinking. Mito wanted nothing more than to hold him, tell him it would be okay even though it wasn't. Maybe he'd believe it if she said it. His hands were bloody, dried with the stuff. Mito blinked to hide her tears and turned away, but he heard her moving and faced her.

Those eyes she'd found so captivating were empty and cold now. There was no sadness there, or even anger. There was just nothing, and he was looking right at her.

"You should leave," he'd said.

Mito had never been afraid of Madara, not even when they'd first met on the beach as strangers so many years ago. All he ever needed was patience and sometimes a strong spine to stand up to him when no one else would. But this was something unknown, something so foreign coming from him. He looked at her like she was an outsider, a nameless face that didn't belong here with him. The enemy.

She'd left that day without another word, rationalizing that this was a horrific family tragedy and she didn't have a right to intrude. But the memory of that look in his eyes kept her away even long after. They hadn't gone so long without seeing each other since she was occupied with her solo training in the Shikkotsu Forest.

And now, she was running to meet him in Earth Country with a small garrison of Uzumaki shinobi to deliver an invitation for peace talks with the Senju clan. Hashirama had considered just sending a bird, but Mito insisted on delivering it in person so Madara wouldn't be able to ignore it. And it was a good excuse to finally see him after so much time apart.

"Lady Mito, we're coming up on the Uchiha camp. Five miles out," said Mako Uzumaki.

He was the young general Ensui had sent to lead the Uzumaki garrison that would accompany the Senju clan. Like most Uzumaki, his hair was blood red and he wore it in a high bun. He was a tall, strapping man with a square jaw and bright, blue eyes clearer than the sky. While a bright and capable military leader and sensor shinobi, he was all business all the time. Mito was sure she'd never heard him laugh, not even once.

"Good. Let's go ahead and announce ourselves," Mito said. "Madara doesn't like surprises, and we don't want to deal with any miscommunications."

Mako prepared a bird to deliver the message, and the rest of the group slowed their pace as they approached the Uchiha camp. Earth Country was a desolate place, and since it was farther north, its climate was harsher than Fire Country's. Mountains reached for the sky to the north, and between here and there wide crags in the rock dove down hundreds of feet to subterranean rivers and gorges. Hardy plants brave enough to withstand the unforgiving climate grew from every crevice and cranny Mito could spy. There was no other discernible life. Such a harsh, lonely place.

It took them another half hour to reach the Uchiha camp, and since no scouts tried to attack them, Mito figured Madara was at least in a good mood. There was no telling how he would react to her after so long. Their parting had haunted her many a sleepless night, and not a day passed that she didn't think of him. The scroll that contained his first Amaterasu was strapped to her lower back, as usual. She placed the back of a hand over it to feel its warmth through her glove.

The Uchiha camp was makeshift and temporary as they marched north on whatever mission they were on. As the Uzumaki garrison walked through the camp, they received passing stares and whispers, but Mito was long used to that kind of reception. Even their coloring was all wrong next to the Uchiha. As they wandered deeper, they began to pass some of the soldiers Madara had recruited from conquered shinobi clans. They trained alongside the Uchiha and paid Mito's group no mind. But she was surprised to see Hyūga shinobi among them. The Hyūga were a proud and powerful clan possessed of the formidable Byakugan doujutsu. If they were here now, had Madara defeated them in battle? Mito averted her eyes and swallowed.

"Well, well, look who's a sore sight for my eyes."

Mito stopped her group and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Hikaku, I see you're still alive and well. And it's 'sight for sore eyes'. I'm sure that was an innocent mistake."

"Right, my bad," he sang. He fell into step beside Mito. "So, it's been a while. I see you brought the party this time. Should I be worried?"

"Not at all. I'm here to deliver a message, nothing more."

Hikaku grinned wolfishly. "Nothing more? What's it been, like, six or seven months? I guess I don't blame you for getting spooked after everything."

Mito stopped the whole group abruptly. Her expression was as stony and unforgiving as the environment. "Whatever you might think, I'm not afraid of Madara. I never have been. Now, if you'll please show us to him, we can finish our business and be on our way."

Hikaku narrowed his eyes, but she didn't back down. Mako and the other Uzumaki shinobi behind Mito waited patiently, but their weapons were very visible in their scabbards. Hikaku shrugged.

"Sure, he's this way."

Madara's tent was near the back of the camp. It was evening, but the sun had not yet set. Even so, Mito could detect the faint glow of candlelight emanating from between the tent flaps. Hikaku stood by the entrance and crossed his arms. Apparently, he was sticking around.

"Mako," Mito said. "Please wait here. I'll speak with Madara alone."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. "Positive. I'll let you know if I require your assistance."

Mako reluctantly nodded, and his soldiers positioned themselves outside the tent to wait for her. Mito entered the tent to find Madara standing with his back to her. He had a board set up to which he'd pinned bits of paper—drawings, mostly—and he was studying them intently. A lantern hung from the side of the board to offer light. He didn't turn.

"Madara," she said softly. "It's been a long time."

Silence hung in the air between them. Mito hesitated in approaching.

"Six months, twenty-four days, and...about eight hours," he said at length.

Mito's throat clenched at the sound of his voice, the same after so long, just like she remembered. She took a step forward, and he finally faced her. At the sight of him, she stopped dead in her tracks. The stress lines under his eyes had deepened, and his hair seemed longer. He looked older than he had the last time, older than he should have.

"But who's counting?" he added.

Every muscle in her body ached to go to him, to embrace him, but something held her back. The last time they'd been this close, he'd looked at her like she was dead to him.

"You look weary," she said. "I hear you've been very busy with all the campaigns."

"You sound like Izuna. He tells me I should take a break."

At the mention of Izuna, Mito smiled a little. "Well, I agree with him. Where is he?"

"Home with his woman, apparently. I gave him the month."

Mito's smile grew despite the chilly air between them. "Oh, I didn't know he found someone. I'm really happy to hear it."

Madara didn't respond to that, and Mito's smile began to fade. When it didn't look like he would say anything further, she cleared her throat and unlatched a scroll from a strap around her thigh.

"I'm here to deliver this. It's a rough draft of the peace proposal Hashirama and I drew up for you. Things have been a bit hectic over the last few months, so this is coming to you later than I'd anticipated. But, well, here it is." She set it on the table to the right and unfolded it.

Madara watched her move, but he didn't follow. Mito smoothed out the edges of the scroll she'd written up herself. "I'm sure you'll want to review everything before the meeting. After all, the best deals end with both sides leaving a little disappointed." She shook her head. "I tried explaining that to Hashirama, he didn't really get it."

Madara still hadn't said anything or made any move to approach, and the silence was grating on her nerves. Mito rose and chanced a look at him, but his gaze was hidden by his long bangs.

"Madara?"

"Why didn't you come back?"

Mito's hands began to sweat, so she wiped them on the linen in between the joints of her armor. "You told me to leave."

He let out a sharp breath and looked up at her. The anger in his dark eyes made her gasp. "I didn't mean for half a year."

Mito swallowed hard and slowly approached him, as though he were some exotic beast pacing his cage. "You were pretty clear that I didn't belong there...with you."

"Think about the circumstances. You know what I meant."

Tentative, Mito laid a hand on his cheek. He set his jaw, but he didn't pull away. "I do know. But I don't think you did."

"So it's my fault."

Mito let her hand fall to the back of his neck and squeezed lightly. "It's no one's fault. No one could have predicted what happened."

He snaked a hand around her neck. Her long ponytail bumped his knuckles. "Then why did you leave me until now?" He searched her eyes. "Was it the Senju? Did Hashirama say something to keep you away?"

Surprised and a little upset that he would say such a thing, Mito pulled away. "Hashirama has nothing to do with it."

"Then it was me. I frightened you away."

"No," she said quickly. "I've never been afraid of you, Madara, and I'm not about to start today." Mito showed him her back to try to calm down before she said something she might regret. "I just wanted to give you time."

She couldn't tell him the real reason. Telling him would make it real and give it power.

His hands on her arms were warm, long fingers and pressure, and his breath was warm against the shell of her ear as he whispered, "Don't ever do it again."

Mito closed her eyes and let herself sink into him, into the memory of the boy she'd met on a lonely beach so many years ago. He was still here, still warm and hers. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, and she let him. His lips were dry but soft against the bare skin of her neck and jawline. She leaned into him, wanting to fall, but the reminder of her business here stopped her.

"Madara, the peace talk."

His hands searched for soft skin under her folds of her gi. "Stop, don't ruin it."

Reluctantly, she wrested free of his wandering touch. "My men are outside waiting for me. I need your agreement to meet with Hashirama on the specified date so we can make this talk happen."

He paused and eyed the scroll Mito had spread out on his desk. The handwriting was a looping calligraphy, clearly hers. "How much of that was your input?"

"Does it matter? It's coming from the Senju."

"The fact that our feud's been going on for a thousand years should give you an idea of the Senju's negotiating skills."

Despite herself, Mito bit back a smirk. The earlier chilly atmosphere was all but gone, and she felt more like herself around him now, like no time had passed. Feeling a bit mischievous, she grabbed his collar and yanked him down to her eye level.

"I assure you, I'm very good at getting what I want."

"Oh, you think so?" There was a glint of mischief in his dark eyes, too.

"Uh-huh," she whispered against his lips.

"Then you'll recall that to get what you want, you have to leave a deal a little disappointed."

"What are you trying to say?"

He seemed reluctant to put a stop to her flirting. "I'm scheduled to push back the Kamizuru clan tomorrow. I'll deal with them, then we'll discuss this peace talk you're so excited about."

She hung her head and beat a fist against his chest. "Madara, come on. I just need your written approval to meet. I'm not even asking for you to agree to the terms right now."

He lifted her chin, and she shivered at the sight of the Sharingan staring back at her. "I'm good at getting what I want, too."

Mito's fingers fisted in his shirt at the sight of him like this, so close, and she swallowed. "Fine. But you have to promise to sign it when you're finished so I can get it back to Hashirama. Deal?"

He smirked. "You have to stay until I sign it, right?"

"Hey, none of that, now. I'm supposed to be back in Fire Country next week, so I don't have a lot of time. You're going to sign this damn thing, and that's final. Got it?"

"Hey Madara, Gendoru's asking for you over at the training grounds. Something about the Hyūga," Hikaku called through the tent flap.

"On my way," Madara called back.

He still had that damnable smirk that had always worn her down after a while. But he was needed elsewhere, so Mito made to leave him to his business. He caught her by the elbow and pulled her back in for a kiss that robbed her of all thought and feeling. He pinned her at the waist and dug fingers into the back of her neck. Mito tried to stifle a moan to no avail—god, but she'd missed him—and he kissed her harder.

As soon as it had begun, it was over. Madara pushed past her toward the exit. "Stay a while."

He was gone before she could answer him, and Mako entered the tent to find her just standing there, prettily flushed.

"Lady Mito, were you successful?" he asked.

Mito snapped out of it and smoothed her bangs behind her ear. "Um, yes, I think so."

He's the same man.

She didn't bother to hide her smile at the thought even though Mako gave her a questioning look. Mito gathered up the scroll she'd brought and headed outside. The stars were peeking through the dark sky, thousands of them.

He's the same.

Her fears had been for nothing, after all. Everything would be okay.

Mito woke the next morning to the sound of Madara setting up his armor. She yawned and squinted to see better. It wasn't yet dawn, and only an oil lamp burned in the darkness to guide him. She stretched in bed among the animal furs that padded the wooden frame and shivered a little as the cold, morning air hit her naked skin.

"You're up early," she said.

"People need killing."

Mito frowned and rolled over. "Why're you attacking the Kamizuru clan, anyway?"

"They're headed south for the Fire Country. I don't want them there."

"Shinobi of all clans are welcome in the Fire Country as long as they pay Lord Kenshin's tithe."

Madara snapped the buckle for his arm guard in place with a loud click. "Not these shinobi."

Mito slipped out of bed draped in fur and walked to his side.

"I want to go with you," she said.

Madara stopped what he was doing. "You never fight with us."

"I didn't say I wanted to fight, I said I wanted to go. To observe. Izuna isn't here, right? Who's going to make sure you don't get yourself killed out there?"

Madara let his gloved hands roam over the fur covering her and pushed it back to get to the soft skin underneath.

"What happened to your faith in me?" he asked.

Mito smirked and caught his hands. "Careful, your arrogance is showing."

"Good."

He pushed her back to the bed with his weight and caught her by the thighs. She fell flush against him and gasped at the biting chill of his armor against her bare flesh. Practiced hands found the buckles he'd worked diligently to secure and released them. Pieces of armor clattered to the floor at their feet, followed shortly after by the fur blanket Mito had wrapped herself in. They sank back into bed together and pulled at each other. Clothes, hair, until it was hard to breathe and impossible to forget. His hands were as warm as the humming scroll she always kept with her, almost too warm, and their heat was welcome on this chilly morning.

She held him there as they rested and waited for the high to settle. He played with her hair, and she traced circles on his chest.

"I wasn't joking before," he said. "Don't leave again."

Mito smiled. "I can't leave until you sign that meeting agreement so I know you'll take it seriously."

"No, I mean, don't leave at all."

Mito sat up so she could look him in the eye. "What're you saying?"

"Stay with me."

"Madara..."

"I should've offered the Uzumaki an alliance back then, but I didn't. That was my mistake, and I'm not going to make it again. So stay with me."

She searched his face for the lie, but there was none. He was really serious... "I don't know what to say. Are you sure you're feeling okay to fight today?"

He chuckled and sat up in a sitting position. "I feel fine. Better than I have in a long time." He glanced at her over his shoulder. "Mito, I need you. So stay with me...please."

Tears stung her eyes as the weight of his request finally hit her. This was not a dream, and he was really asking. She had always known Madara wouldn't last forever, not with the clan politics that divided them. But forever was a long time off, and she'd told herself she would worry about it later. Now, with what he was suggesting, forever would no longer matter.

"Madara..."

A horn blew outside, the call to battle. Madara rose from bed and began to collect his armor. "We can finish talking about it later. But think about it. I know there's a lot of red tape, but none of that matters."

Mito sat up in bed and rubbed her temples. "You caught me off guard."

He threw her the linen she'd been wearing the other day to get dressed. "You still want to come, right? We have to go now."

Mito nodded and dressed mechanically. Even when they were outside and she met up with Mako and the other Uzumaki, she was still reeling from Madara's whispered entreaty.

"You look pale," Mako said. "Everything all right?"

Mito snapped out of her thoughts. "Oh, yeah, sorry. Let's get going."

"We should stay back behind the infantry line. I don't want to be in range of those bees."

"Yes, of course. We're just here to observe."

The Uzumaki marched out of camp with the Uchiha, but they hung back at the edges of the platoon. Mito noticed that the Hyūga shinobi were also present and marching alongside the Uchiha. The Kamizuru clan appeared about ten miles to the north as they marched south, and by the time the two opposing groups stood across a chasm from each other, the sun was high in the sky. Mito waited for the parley and exchange of terms, but it never came.

As soon as the Kamizuru appeared, the battle began. Douton users summoned makeshift bridges from the natural rock environment to close the chasm, and the Uchiha soldiers ran across them to meet the enemy. Fire techniques soon heated the air, and the buzzing of bees made it impossible to hear anything going on in the battle itself.

"This is madness," Mako said. "They just charged in without exchanging terms or demands!"

Mito watched in shock at the bloodshed unraveling before her. Hyūga shinobi spun amidst incredible whirlwinds of chakra, blasting anything that came too close. The Uchiha employed various elemental attacks that devastated the landscape, while the Kamizuru shinobi relied on their bees. Several of the Kamizuru worked together to combine their hives and summon a giant wave of honey that pinned a few of the Uchiha to the ground and left them vulnerable to a mass stinging attack. They began to scream for help as the killer bees descended.

"Oh my god," Mito said as she caught sight of Madara.

He ran into the thick of battle with the gunbai and scythe she'd given him the last time she'd visited. He used the gunbai to summon a sharp gale and cut through both the honey wave and the bees too slow to fly away, saving his kin. Several Uchiha tailed him and launched fire techniques, but Madara was more concerned with the Kamizuru clan that had nearly murdered his soldiers. He faced them across the chasm and let loose Amaterasu. The black flames latched onto anything they could find—the bees, the dead, the hardening honey, and the fleeing Kamizuru shinobi themselves. Unlike the first few times Mito had seen him use it, now Madara's technique was ruthless and controlled as it zigzagged around the landscape and aimed for the enemy shinobi en masse even as they attempted escape.

"This is not war," Mako said, disgusted, "it's a slaughter."

It was over in less than an hour.

The few survivors of the Kamizuru clan that had managed to escape the devil's fire retreated back up north and left their dead to burn under orange and black flames. There were no prisoners, only corpses and utter devastation.

"Lady Mito, are you okay?"

Mito sank to one knee and squeezed her eyes shut to battle the nausea threatening to manifest in more physical forms. In her mind, she saw Madara with that half grin that could persuade her into anything. She felt his fingers in her hair, heard the sound of his voice as he confessed his weakness and insecurity to her under the cover of night, so earnest and full of all the doubts that plague young people with dreams.

"Stay with me."

She nearly choked on a whiff of Amaterasu burning through flesh and bone and blood.

"Lady Mito!" Mako kneeled down next to her and helped her stand.

The Uchiha were regrouping with Madara at the helm. It looked like they were preparing to chase down any stragglers that hadn't retreated fast enough with the rest of the Kamizuru. Mito wiped a clammy hand across her mouth and forced herself to swallow down the bile that had nearly escaped her earlier.

"Yes, General. I'm okay now." Hard, green eyes followed Madara's form as he directed his soldiers. "Come on, we're going back to the camp. I think we've seen more than enough," she said.

Mito waited in Madara's tent for him to return from the battle. Night had already fallen, but there was no moon tonight, only stars. Voices drifted through the camp as the Uchiha soldiers finally trickled back after the day's fighting. She had kept her armor on and pulled her hair back in a bun, and she paced in his tent now, silent. The peace talk proposal sat unrolled on the desk nearby.

Madara returned soon enough. There was dried blood on his armor and faint smears of soot on his cheeks. At the sight of her, he set down his gunbai and scythe.

"Princess," he said.

"You're back." She ceased her pacing and faced him.

He quirked an eyebrow. "I am. You left before the battle was finished."

Mito averted her gaze. "I'd seen enough."

He walked around her and started removing his armor. It fell to the floor with a loud clink, piece by piece. Underneath, the Uchiha emblem was embroidered ostentatiously on the back of his gi.

"Did you think about my offer?" he asked.

"What was that today, Madara?"

He frowned at her changing the subject. "The battle?"

"That was no battle, it was senseless killing."

His expression fell, wiped clean of any emotion as he sized her up. "Violence is the only language most shinobi understand."

"But you didn't even try to compromise with them. You just went in and started killing anyone in sight without warning. What was that?"

"Is there something you want to say to me? Because last time I checked, I'm the leader of the Uchiha, not you."

Mito glared up at him, unafraid. "You murdered those shinobi in cold blood for no reason at all. And from where I was standing, it looked like you enjoyed it."

Madara narrowed his eyes. "I fight to protect the Uchiha, like any good leader should. My intel told me that the Kamizuru were headed for Fire Country, and I couldn't let them threaten my kin stationed there."

Mito recoiled. "So it's a crime now to move south? How do you even know they were after the Uchiha?"

"It doesn't matter. They're no longer a threat."

"Listen to yourself. You can't just attack people for no reason!"

Madara grabbed her arm. "I'm the leader of the most powerful shinobi clan on the continent. And if I don't protect them, then no one else will. I have to be strong or our enemies will hunt us down and tear us apart. I know you've gotten comfortable with the Senju, but don't you dare make light of my situation."

Mito yanked away from his grip and put a hand on his chest to keep him from coming any closer. "Don't drag the Senju into this, they had nothing to do with today. That was all you. What the hell is happening to you, Madara?"

He sneered. "I should ask you the same thing. You were born with everything. I didn't even have a name, and now look how far I've come. I thought you understood that."

Mito softened a little. "I do understand that. I always had faith in you and your dream. I still do."

"Apparently, you don't." His teeth were bared as he receded into himself. "I lost my parents, my wife, even my son. All my family save for Izuna, gone. I'm not about to lose anyone else. The Uchiha come first—before me, before you, and before the Senju."

"I'm not saying they shouldn't, but your name doesn't dictate your choices—you do."

"My name is all I am!"

Silence befell them, deafening in the aftermath of their shouting match. Madara's eyes bled to red, and Mito's hands began to shake, ready to defend. He closed his eyes and let out a bitter laugh.

"I was ready to share my name with you, but I can see your answer all over your face."

Her heart wrenched. "Madara..."

"Hear me now, Mito. From now on, as long as you ally with Hashirama, you're no friend to the Uchiha."

Mito began to tremble with anger. "How can you even say that? I came here to propose peace talks. It's all Hashirama's ever wanted. It's all I've ever wanted. Why do you think I refused to participate in your feud? All I want is for this to end so we can be together!"

He grabbed the scroll from the desk and crushed it in his hands. "You think this piece of paper can fix everything? There are a thousand years of bad blood between us, and you're right in the middle of it. Don't even pretend you're not involved."

Tears stung at Mito's eyes. "I didn't want to think you'd changed, but you have. And something tells me you'll only get worse."

"Changed? The only thing that's changed is my focus. I'm taking the Uchiha to new heights. And one day, there'll be no more reason for anyone to die."

Mito shook her head and turned for the exit. There was no talking to him now, and she had the urge to put as much distance between them as possible.

"Go ahead, leave. You've had plenty of practice," he said cruelly.

Mito bit back a sob and cast him a look over her shoulder. "You're not the man I love. I don't even know who you are anymore."

She stormed out without looking back and searched for the rest of the Uzumaki. They would depart tonight, the sooner the better.

She didn't notice the way Madara's face fell at her confession, or the trembling hand that reached for her before he could stop it. She was already long gone.

Tōka led her four-man team east across the Fire Country. They had just completed a short retrieval mission for Lord Kenshin, and they were due to meet him at his main fortress in the northeast by the shore. The scroll her team had been tasked to retrieve fit snugly at her hip, and they'd encountered little resistance during the mission. All in all, it was shaping up to be a good day. The sun was even out, and somehow the barren landscape didn't seem so drab today.

The Uchiha camp was somewhere in this vicinity, but the main force was away on a campaign in Earth Country, where Mito was currently hunting them down to propose peace talks on behalf of the Senju. Even so, Tōka made sure to give the camp as wide a berth as possible. No sense in stirring up trouble when she was outnumbered.

"Man, I can't wait to get home," a Senju kunoichi said as they ran along. "I feel like we've been gone for ages!"

The young shinobi running beside her grinned. "It's only been, like, five days, Kino. You miss it that much?"

"Five days is five days too long to be without family, Akito. So what if I miss them?"

The fourth member of Tōka's team, Hisao, remained silent as she brought up the rear. The three of them were cousins and different as night and day, but they worked best together. Their specialty was stealth and reconnaissance, so they had been an easy choice for this particular mission despite their extreme youth. Hisao, the eldest, was only sixteen.

"We'll be home soon enough," Tōka reassured her young team. "Just as soon as we deliver the package to Lord Kenshin and collect our fee."

"As long as we're there before Sasuke's wedding, I'm cool with it," Akito said. "It's gonna be a great, big party!"

"Oh, yeah!" Kino said. "I forgot that was happening."

"We've known about the wedding for a couple weeks now," Hisao said. "Why would you forget?"

Akito sighed dramatically. "I know, right?"

"Hey, don't gang up on me!"

Tōka smiled at their excitement. She had always enjoyed working with children and young people. After spending most of her time with Tobirama, it was often nice to interact with people who didn't see the worst in everything, even if it was sometimes an unrealistic view of the world.

"Sasuke and Lena's wedding will be a night for everyone to have a little fun," Tōka said. "All the more reason for us to hurry up and deliver our mission objective, right?"

"Hell yeah!" Akito said.

Tōka laughed and they pressed forward. They passed the occasional weathered tree, the only sources of shade spread out over miles of otherwise desiccated, hilly land. Few animals were out and about, but Tōka could feel their life forces if she concentrated. A lizard in a nearby hole underground, a brown mother bird sheltering eggs in a twisted tree. There was life here, but only the strong could survive the desolation left over after Indra's fabled Amaterasu razed this land to the ground a millennium ago. Fire Country was aptly named.

The problem with concentrating on the small signs of wildlife was that she missed the signs of bigger life. Dangerous life. Kino gasped and hit the ground with a thud. By the time Tōka realized what had happened, Kino was already dead. A thick kunai was embedded in the base of her skull.

"Kino!" Akito wailed.

No time to mourn, Tōka ran in front of Akito and Hisao and began channeling chakra. A genjutsu slithered from her fingertips and wove around the many hills that dotted the land like pock marks. It didn't have far to go before it hit its target—three shinobi. They weren't alone.

"Hisao, there are two more at our nine o'clock. Take them out fast," Tōka commanded.

Hisao hesitated as she looked between Kino and a distraught Akito, shaking with the trauma of what they'd both just witnessed.

"Hisao!" Tōka said more forcefully.

"R-Right, I'm going." She sprinted away and powered up an Earth style technique as she went.

"Akito, I need you to focus," Tōka said, hating her harsh tone. "Kino's dead. Leave her."

Akito sniffled and forced himself to look away from Kino's bleeding corpse. "Bastards. I'll kill whoever did this!"

Tōka narrowed her eyes as her senses extended further. Something hot and searing burned at the edges. A fire technique.

"Uchiha," she spat.

Akito flew through a round of hand seals. "Scum. They're dead!"

"Akito, wait!"

But he was already running. The earth rumbled beneath his feet and rose to do his bidding. Over the nearest hill, two Uchiha soldiers appeared and began launching fire-based attacks, which Akito blocked with a wall of earth.

"Damnit," Tōka swore. She ran after him and powered up another genjutsu.

How did they find us?

The illusion hit the two attackers like a ton of bricks and sent them crumbling to their knees. Akito then bludgeoned them with a sentient rock under his command.

"Senju trash! Die!"

Tōka had nearly reached Akito's side when out of nowhere, a powerful gust of wind cut through the air and hit him in the side. It cleaved him in half like a knife through butter. Tōka stumbled, eyes wide with shock and horror as she watched pieces of Akito fall to the ground in a bloody pile. He hadn't even had time to scream.

"Ahhh!"

Hisao's cry spurred Tōka into action. The girl had taken a sword to the gut and fell to her knees, while an Uchiha shinobi towered over her ready to deliver the final blow. Tōka let out a battle cry and slammed a hand forward. Her chakra hit him so hard that he stumbled, and the illusion had him clawing at his face. He dropped his sword and fell to the ground. Chunks of skin and tissue sluiced off his face under his fingernails as they dug deeper, painting him in ribbons of red.

"Hisao!" Tōka shouted.

The girl managed to draw the knife out of her middle and cried out again as she sank to the ground. Tōka reached her side and helped her up, but she was losing a lot of blood.

"Just go," she wheezed. "There's more of them!"

Tōka bit her lip and drew blood. Hisao was not wrong. More Uchiha were closing in from the north. Tōka and her team must have passed by a scouting brigade and not even realized it. Tobirama would have skinned her alive if he could see her carelessness now.

"I don't have a choice," she hissed as the reinforcements arrived from over the hills.

It was untested and untried, just a concept she'd dreamed up in a particularly bad nightmare and tinkered with in her spare time, as she did with all her nightmares. So simple, but the most frightening things always were. And if she could pull it off now, she might escape with her life and Hisao's. She brought her hands together, palms flat, and summoned as much chakra as she could for one, wide burst. The Uchiha were fifty feet away and fast closing.

At the height of her chakra output, Tōka closed her eyes and the world went dark—for her, and for the encroaching enemies. The sun was gone, plunged into perpetual night. Their shouts of confusion and fear confirmed her technique's success, and when she opened her eyes, it was to Uchiha soldiers fumbling about and pawing at their eyes—eyes that had turned as black as the technique she'd cursed them with. Taking them out now would be child's play.

Tōka drew her chokutō and ran for the nearest Uchiha. She slashed at his throat without slowing, and he toppled to the ground behind her. The next one went down with a clean stab through the gut. One by one by one, and no one stood a chance of resisting her—

Whoosh!

The sound of metal slicing air veered her off-course as instinct alone threw her into a barrel roll to avoid decapitation. A lone Uchiha remained standing, the best of them.

"Izuna," she said as she scrambled to her feet.

His eyes were dyed black like his comrades', but he was moving and unfettered by the stygian curse that blinded him. He twitched at the sound of her voice and lunged again. He flung one of his tantō at her, and it grazed her shoulder. She swore and rolled again to regroup.

"That voice...Tōka. I can hear you," Izuna said.

"Not for long."

She retrieved his tantō and flung it back at him, but he managed to avoid it.

Fast!

Izuna laughed. "Didn't anyone ever tell you? Uchiha see best in the dark!"

He lunged at her and forced her into close combat. Unbelievably, he was keeping up with her punches by touch and sound alone. As a stealth fighter, Tōka avoided direct combat whenever possible, and it showed. If not for his handicap, she was sure he would have bested her already.

"You sure about that?" she taunted.

She took a kick to the shin to buy time to draw a kunai, which she slashed across his chest. Izuna grunted in pain and stumbled backwards while Tōka took a knee and panted. The Bringer of Darkness technique consumed a vast amount of chakra, and maintaining it for so long was taking its toll. She wiped sticky sweat from her brow.

Izuna stood up straight as if to forfeit, but his blackened gaze found hers instinctively. "I'll let you be the judge."

Before she had the sense to look away, the Mangekyo Sharingan's lurid glow pierced through her technique and sucked her in.

"Tsukuyomi," he whispered.

Tōka opened her mouth to scream as darkness befell her. It was so thick and cold that she couldn't discern which way was up and which was down. There was only Izuna against a black and white backdrop of her own making and a full, red moon where the sun should have been.

Refusing to give in to the illusion, she ran at him with her chokutō drawn and rammed him in the gut. He grunted and doubled over her as her blade passed through him, but he didn't fall.

"Did you know? There are things even I can't see," he said.

His hand was heavy on her shoulder, and she pulled away.

Those haunting eyes of his were steeped in shadows that leaked down his face. No, not shadows—blood. His blood. As soon as she saw their ruined state, she felt it herself. Blood poured from her own eyes, and she couldn't blink. The agony was so intense that she was sure this couldn't be a mirage. No illusion could ever be this strong. Her chokutō fell to the floor, forgotten, as she clung to Izuna for support and he to her.

"Let me out of here!" she screamed.

His breath was hot on her face, and his blood mixed with hers as it dripped on her, in her hair, in the chinks of her armor. The red moon glowed sinister above, the only illumination in this endless darkness.

She fisted his collar and felt his heartbeat through their armor. "Izuna!"

The illusion shattered, and Tōka fell to the ground. The solid, dry earth of her familiar Fire Country. She heaved and spit up bile, and the earth crunched under her tightening fingers. But she was awake and alive, and the sun was shining. As an afterthought, she felt her face for signs of blood, but there were none. The pain was gone, and she could see fine.

Izuna.

She scrambled to her feet and looked around, Izuna was several yards away, and he'd also suffered from a violent bout of nausea. He staggered to his feet on wobbly knees, but he was otherwise fine. His eyes glowed with the heightened Mangekyo Sharingan, and to her horror blood ran down his cheeks like tears. He merely stared at her, guarded.

"That was a powerful genjutsu you used. Powerful enough to break my ultimate Tsukuyomi. No one's ever escaped it before," he said.

Tōka swallowed. Those eyes... She'd never seen his elevated Sharingan up close before, and now that she had she was wishing otherwise. Just looking at him sent a shiver of dread up her spine. This wasn't the same gaze she'd held when they'd fought together on Uzushiogakure. This wasn't Izuna at all.

"You're bleeding," she said.

"You brought it out of me."

Tōka took a step back. There was something decidedly sinister about him right now, something she couldn't place. It hadn't been there before. "Izuna..."

He watched her carefully, but he made no further move to attack. Tōka continued to back away.

"Be careful," he said at last. "Soon, darkness will be the least of your fears."

She froze in her place. Her fears... Had he seen her nightmare? The deep-seated nyctophobia she'd harbored since she was a child, the inspiration for the terrible Bringer of Darkness genjutsu? Could he smell it on her? Tōka shivered, feeling exposed under his all-seeing Sharingan. All around, Uchiha and Senju bodies lay bleeding and festering under the afternoon sun. Their smell was musty and sour on her nose, and it brought tears to her eyes.

"What're you talking about?" she demanded, trying to mask her fear.

She drew a kunai and brandished it at him.

He blinked and the Sharingan faded. Blood dripped from his chin where it continued to run down his cheeks from his bloodshot eyes. Like this, it was almost like he was crying. Sad, and lonely. "The only thing darkness was ever good for was to give light a place to shine."

When he showed her his back and retreated, Tōka could only stare. It didn't even cross her mind to sneak attack him. All she could think of were his words, cryptic omens that left her more afraid than even her crippling fear of the dark that he'd discovered so easily in that black and white and red world he'd trapped her in.

That, and the darkness lingering at the edges of her vision, a world from which there was truly no escape.