Glass Trinity, Chapter 14: The Curse Between Us, Part II
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

The journey back to the Senju main camp in Fire Country was a long one for Mito. Every step of the way, she questioned her actions. Had she been rash? Most things in her life had had perfectly good explanations, even if she didn't want to hear them. But with Madara, nothing ever made sense. She couldn't ignore her gut feeling that something was very wrong.

"Stay with me."

She squeezed her eyes shut to blot out the memory. There was no way she could have stayed, not after what he'd done. Not after who he'd shown himself to be.

"We've arrived, Lady Mito," Mako announced.

The Senju camp was a sprawling settlement guarded around the clock by sentries and teams of shinobi ready for battle at the drop of a hat. One such team greeted the returning Uzumaki.

"Welcome back," one of the young Senju sentries said.

The camp was a mess of tightly-packed tents that housed everything from smithies to food stalls to private homes. Everything was laid out in districts for convenience, and as befitting this era of warring states, everything was easily collapsible in case of invasion or the need for hasty retreat. Even so, people bustled among the tents and stalls with purpose. Life went on.

"General Mako, thank you for accompanying me. Please let your soldiers rest. I'll meet with Hashirama and bring him up to speed on things," Mito said.

Mako bowed stiffly. "As you wish."

Mito watched him and the other Uzumaki shinobi depart in the direction of their quarters, which was intermixed with the Senju's habitation. People passed by her on their daily errands, and some greeted her. Mito hardly heard them as she thought about her meeting with Madara.

I failed.

He hadn't signed the agreement to sit for peace talks, and worse, she'd left on a bad note. Perhaps an irreparable one. Hashirama would be disappointed, but more vexing was Madara's behavior.

"I don't even know who you are anymore."

Mito set her jaw and moved on autopilot toward the Senju meeting tent where she, Hashirama, Tobirama, Tōka, and Sasuke usually met to discuss strategy and the next campaign. It was late in the afternoon and warm, and she was sweating in her armor. Once she arrived, the tent's interior was cool and shady. Tobirama was there.

"You're back," he said, looking up from the map he'd been studying. "How'd it go?"

Instead of answering she said, "Where's Hashirama?"

Tobirama's red eyes flashed with anger. "He's a little busy."

Mito frowned. "What happened? Is something wrong?"

"Tōka was out on a mission. Simple retrieval, nothing big. But she ran into trouble with enemy shinobi on the way back."

Mito's heart raced at the bad news. "Is she okay? Where is she?"

"She's okay, but she pretty much collapsed when she got back here. Been in a coma for the last few days sleeping it off. We don't know who she ran into or why, but I can make a pretty good guess."

"I want to see her. What about her team?"

"Killed, all of them. They were kids, too. Hashi's visiting their families right now."

Mito covered her mouth. "Oh my god."

Tobirama's dour mood filled the tent. "You should go find him. He was saying he wanted to see you when you got back, see how things went."

Mito nodded numbly. "Right, thanks, Tobirama."

"Are you okay?"

"Hm? Why do you ask?"

"You look like you're expecting an ambush." He watched her carefully. Tobirama had always been very perceptive, much more so than his brother.

"I'm fine, just tired and ready for this to be over. Where can I find Hashirama?"

Tobirama directed her to the west ward. Mito headed there after stopping by her private quarters to remove her armor. Dressed in a white yukata secured with a green obi, she treaded lightly in search of Hashirama. The sun was setting and cast a thick, orange glow over the camp. Sunsets in Fire Country had always been beautiful, so different from her native Whirlpool where everything was tempered by ocean and mist. Here, there was nothing but the harsh sun and those who could stand to walk in it.

Hashirama emerged from a small tent, and sobs of despair followed him out. His expression was somber and his shoulders were stiff, like it hurt him just to remain upright. Mito watched him for a moment. His face was gaunt, the product of many sleepless nights. She wondered when he'd last eaten.

"Hashirama."

Hashirama blinked and soon located her standing there several yards away. He immediately lit up and flashed her a smile—weary, but genuine.

"Mito, you're back."

"Yeah, sooner than expected."

Some of his weariness melted away as he approached. "Man, am I glad to see you."

Mito touched a comforting hand to his arm. "I heard about what happened with Tōka and her team. I'm so sorry."

He sighed and ran a hand through his bangs. "Yeah, it's awful. I'm glad she's okay, but it's been days and she's still not waking up. I don't even know who did this."

"Tobirama seems to think it was the Uchiha."

"He said that?"

"He may as well have. But if it was and they were strong enough to take out her whole team, it doesn't make sense that they'd spare only her."

Hashirama looked deep in thought. "Yeah, that's a good point."

Senju shinobi and civilians passed them by on the path that wound between the tents, but no one bothered them. News of this most recent loss had people keeping their heads down and biding their time. Mito bit her cheek as she remembered why she'd come looking for Hashirama in the first place.

"Listen, Hashirama. About those peace talk proposals..." she began.

"Oh yeah, thanks for that. I got Madara's response yesterday. Guess you were right about convincing him in person, after all."

Mito was not sure she'd heard him right. "Wait, what? He agreed?"

"Well, yeah! He sent Dawnclaw with the signed proposal yesterday."

"Um, Dawnclaw?"

"His favorite falcon. It's how we've communicated over the years."

Mito frowned. "You communicate with Madara on a regular basis?"

Hashirama shrugged. "Not regular, no. But, you know, he's my best friend."

Mito could hardly believe her ears. After Madara's inimical response to her criticism of his violent war practices, she was sure she'd cost them any chance of a peace talk. Had she misjudged him?

"You okay?" Hashirama waved a hand in front of her face.

"Oh, yes, I'm fine, sorry. Just...tired from the journey back."

Hashirama smiled. "I bet you are. Hey, why don't you go rest a little and we'll have dinner. Lena offered to cook tonight, so you know it's gonna be fantastic!"

"That sounds great. I'll find you later, okay?"

"Sure thing." Hashirama turned to leave, but he remembered something and and said, "I really am happy you're back."

"Stay with me," Madara had entreated her softly. She could not tell Hashirama how badly, if only for a little while, she had wanted to say yes. Just the thought of such a betrayal... Was that how things would be now? Did staying with one of them mean she was betraying the other? Did it matter that she loved Madara? Did it matter that she'd promised Hashirama her loyalty? Did it matter that she still was not sure she'd made the right decision?

But Hashirama's smile was contagious, and she couldn't help but return it. "Of course," she said at length. "I...wouldn't have it any other way."

He left, and Mito just stood there for a moment.

Is that true?

People passing were beginning to stare as she just stood there in the middle of the road, so she trudged back to her tent. She did not know if it was true. But as she passed the tent of one of the mourning families Hashirama had visited and heard their inconsolable grief, her aching heart told her that somehow, it would have to be. She had made her choice, after all.

Hashirama was sweating, he was so nervous. Nervous! It was only Madara, after all. It wasn't like they were going to fight to the death and this could be his last night among the living. But truthfully, that kind of situation was more familiar to Hashirama than the current one.

He sat opposite Madara at a wide, oaken table, the one he used when Sasuke would run him through new military strategies and battle formation plans he had devised. The tent that covered them was lit by burning oil lamps, none bright enough to ward off the shadows that lingered in the corners. In accordance with the formalities of peace talks, all present wore no armor, and that lack of weight felt strange on Hashirama's shoulders as he sat opposite from Madara.

"So you're proposing a widespread military downsizing?" Madara asked. His arms were crossed as he slouched in his chair like he didn't care, but his eyes were sharp and alert. "I don't think I have to explain even to you why that's completely out of the question."

Hashirama leaned forward over the table a little. "We're our own worst enemies, literally, so scaling down makes a whole lotta sense. That way we don't have to train up kids as much."

"We have many enemies, Hashirama. Don't be so naïve. The only reason we're where we are is because of our strength. How do you think peace is sustained? Through the threat of total annihilation."

"You're misunderstanding," Mito said. "No one's proposing any scale back right now. It's a gradual process that'll take months, even years. And it depends on the mutual trust this alliance will ultimately build between Uchiha and Senju."

She stood between them at the end of the table. Her expression was severe even as she calmly explained what Hashirama hadn't quite articulated. He swallowed a shiver that wanted to creep up his spine.

Madara wasn't as fazed by Mito's icy, business persona. "Trust is a big assumption to make. Or did you forget that not all of us are like Hashirama and me?"

"I haven't forgotten, just as I'm sure you haven't forgotten that you and Hashirama are the leaders to which your clans look as the example. They trust you, so there's no reason they won't trust each other in time if you guide them in that direction."

Madara smirked. "Pretty words. If only things were so simple."

"They are," Hashirama said. "They will be once we actually give this thing a shot. C'mon, Madara, don't tell me you don't even wanna try."

"I'm one man, and my clan depends on me. They trust me. How would it look if suddenly I told them to forget the past and hold hands? Come on, Hashirama. Don't pretend like the Senju would be happy to let the past go and sing kumbaya around the campfire together. We're not that different in the end."

Hashirama clenched a fist. He was right, of course. Even Tobirama, his own brother, had always been dismissive at best of an alliance with the Uchiha. They'd lost brothers to the Uchiha, and no peace, no matter how lasting, could ever change that.

"You're right, Madara," Mito said. "You're not so different in the end. And that's why I know that somehow, you'll agree to peace just like you agreed to today's meeting despite everything that happened in the past."

Mito and Madara exchanged a loaded look, and Hashirama was left to wonder. The two of them were alike in many ways, not the least of which was that he could never predict what they would do next. But he had a pretty good idea of what they'd already done. That was personal, though, and it was neither here nor there. Hashirama could not let it cloud his judgment.

"I can't change the past, Madara," he said. "It's like you've said before. None of this'll bring back the people we've lost. I'll never see my little brothers again. But we can change the future. We can make sure no one else has to lose a brother. That's gotta count for something."

Madara's gaze was far away, remembering. "It does count for something, but it's not enough. What would I tell my clan? You and I aren't the only ones who've lost people." He waved a hand in front of him. "My soldiers and yours fight under our orders. They're the ones who lose the most. How can I tell them to let it all go? That's not how the world works."

"Then change the world," Mito said. "Hashirama promised my father that if there's such a thing as peace, he'd find it. But he can't find it without you, Madara."

Madara stood up. "But your father's still alive, Princess. Mine won't ever see peace, and I owe it to him to uphold his legacy."

"Don't drag her into it, Madara," Hashirama said, standing. "This is between Senju and Uchiha. It's our problem."

Madara laughed. "Are you really that blind? She and anyone else who gets close to us is involved. They're in the goddamned middle of it!" He narrowed his eyes, and they flashed red for a brief instant. "And that's how people get killed."

He headed for the exit, but Hashirama wasn't about to let him leave like this. He walked around the length of the table and placed himself in between Madara and the escape. Mito hovered behind Madara. There was nowhere for him to go unless he went through one of them.

"I thought this was supposed to be a peaceful meeting," Madara said venomously. "If you wanted a fight, you didn't have to go through all this pretense."

Hashirama held his ground. "I made a promise to my father, too. I promised I would end this as he died in my arms, and I'm gonna keep that promise. But I'm doing it our way, not his." He spread his arms and exposed his unarmored chest as he entreated Madara to listen. "Don't you get it? We can make our dream a reality and still honor the dead. You and me, Madara. We can end this together."

He caught Mito's eye over Madara's shoulder, and she nodded in encouragement. Madara let out a sharp breath.

"You make it sound so simple. All I have to do is say 'yes', right? And everything will magically be okay?"

Hashirama lowered his arms. "I mean, it'll take a lot of work, but it starts with a 'yes'."

Mito moved before Hashirama could wonder why, and by the time he realized the danger, it was too late. Madara's hand was clenched over his windpipe, and the Mangekyo Sharingan glared up at him. Hashirama struggled to suck in a breath.

"Madara!" Mito hissed. Her palm glowed blue with deadly sealing chakra, but Madara squeezed harder.

"Don't interfere. I've almost made my point," he said.

She froze. The threat in his voice was low and feral. Hashirama resisted the urge to squirm and fight back.

"Did you know, Hashirama? If I killed you now, everything would be okay. My people would be safe. It'd be so simple."

Hashirama wrapped his hands around Madara's wrist and forced a smile despite the sharp, crushing pain against his windpipe. "Y-You're wrong."

He squeezed harder, and Hashirama gasped for breath. "Am I?"

Mito trembled behind Madara, unsure whether or how to intervene. She wouldn't make it in time to stop Madara and save Hashirama, he was too fast, too good. "Stop this, Madara," she pleaded with him, voice shaky. "You know damn well that killing Hashirama would only make everything worse! You're the one who keeps saying how this feud's gone on forever."

Madara was unmoved by her entreaty. "My father wouldn't hesitate in my position."

Hashirama struggled to suck in air, and he began to feel dangerously light-headed. "But you are."

Madara bared his teeth in a snarl.

"Madara, stop," Mito warned.

Hashirama began to see spots as his eyelids fluttered. "It's n-not so simple," he wheezed, "to kill...someone you love."

The seconds ticked by, and Mito looked about ready to punch Madara into next week. Her hands glowed with powerful sealing chakra, and all it would take was one touch. But just as she was finally on her last threat and ready to risk intervening, Madara's grip relaxed and he released Hashirama, who fell to the floor on his knees and heaved. Madara looked down at him in silence, and Mito dashed between Hashirama and him, hands still aglow with fighting chakra.

Tears blurred Hashirama's vision from the lack of oxygen, and he had a hard time making out what was going on above him. Mito and Madara stood in silence as they faced off, but neither spoke. He wiped his eyes and sent healing chakra to his throat to ease the pain.

"No," Madara said at length, "it's not. And that's just the problem."

Hashirama put a hand on the table to steady himself and try to stand. Mito hadn't moved an inch.

"Madara..." She sounded on the verge of tears.

"I've had enough for one night," he said.

Before Hashirama could get to his feet, Madara pushed past Mito and headed outside. She let him go.

"Wait, Madara!" he called. "Damnit, we have to stop him—" A coughing fit cut into Hashirama's words, and pain lanced through his throat.

Mito's hands were on him in an instant as she supported his weight. "Let him go, Hashirama. He's right, we've had enough for one night."

Tobirama shifted his weight from his heels to the balls of his feet and back again. He scratched an imaginary itch on the back of his head, and his studded leather armor stretched and squeaked. Torches crackled softly over the entrance to the meeting tent. It was the only sign of human life around for miles, and he was stuck outside in the chilly, night air wishing he could hit something, the waiting was killing him.

"Will you just stand still? Your fidgeting's giving me a headache."

Tobirama shot a venomous glance at his company tonight and fought with every fiber of his being to be the bigger man and not start punching. "Well your breathing's giving me a headache."

Izuna sighed but said nothing. Somehow, that was worse than hearing him talk.

"Peace talks never worked before, and they sure as hell won't work now," Tobirama said.

Izuna remained silent once again.

Tobirama crossed his arms. "They're living in a dreamland, our brothers. Makes me wonder when they'll finally wake up for good and realize all this is useless."

"Dream or nightmare, they'll never stop trying. It's in their nature," Izuna said at length.

"So you agree with me?"

Izuna chuckled, but it only sent shivers down Tobirama's spine. "Peace isn't something that'll ever concern me."

When they were younger, it had been easy to hate Izuna blindly. He was the face of the enemy, the ghost that kept Tobirama awake at night and wondering whether tomorrow the sun would still rise. Tonight, there was no sun and no one around, no one to see them waiting in the shadows while their brothers talked each other in circles. Tomorrow, the sun would rise again, and there would be no shadows left in which to hide.

"This is a waste of time," Tobirama said.

"I guess it depends on whose time you're talking about," Izuna said. "For me, it makes no difference. They should know by now that without war, there can be no peace."

Tobirama frowned. Izuna hadn't looked at him once during their entire sentry. Something about him was off today. Still, he had a point.

"Funny how you just get what my brother has always refused to accept. I guess in a fucked up a way, you know me better than him."

Izuna looked up, and Tobirama's heart skipped a beat at the unwelcome sight of the Mangekyo Sharingan. His hand went for the tantō at his hip.

"Maybe," Izuna said. "But you don't know me, Tobirama. You don't know this hatred."

"Hey, put that away before I gut you. We're supposed to be on neutral ground here."

Izuna's red eyes glowed and seemed to plunge the rest of him into darkness. "This hatred is a curse."

Tobirama's hand gripped the tantō's hilt like a lifeline as he prepared for a fight, but Izuna blinked and dispelled the Sharingan all of a sudden. In the torches' dim lighting, Tobirama could just make out the bags under his eyes. Had those been there before?

Tobirama let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "What're you talking about?"

"Madara!"

Mito's shout drew their attention, and both Tobirama and Izuna bolted for the tent. Madara stormed out just as they got there.

"Izuna, we're leaving," he said.

Izuna shot Tobirama a look, but before Tobirama could read much into it, he left to follow Madara. Mito was next to exit, and Hashirama stumbled out after her. Tobirama shook with anger at the signs of struggle on his brother.

"Damnit. What'd that asshole do this time?" he demanded.

Mito put out a hand and blocked Tobirama from pursuing the Uchiha brothers.

"I'm fine, Tobi," Hashirama said. "You know Mito wouldn't ever let anything happen to me, right?"

"This isn't a goddamned joke, Hashi! Did he attack you?"

"I said I was fine," Hashirama insisted.

"Calm down, both of you," Mito said.

Tobirama could have spit. "Calm down!?"

"More importantly, I have to stop Madara from leaving," Hashirama said.

"Forget about him for once and think about yourself," Tobirama said. "I knew this was a bad idea from the start."

"Cut it out, Tobi," Hashirama said a bit harshly. "I already know how you feel about peace with the Uchiha, and I still think you're wrong about them. That's not gonna change just 'cause of one night."

"It doesn't matter anymore," Mito said. She was gazing off into the dark distance where Madara and Izuna had disappeared.

"Mito..." Hashirama said.

The look in her eyes when she turned back to them was a look Tobirama would never forget. Something twisted inside and ached just looking at her, like she wanted to cry but could not remember how.

"He's gone," she said.

Mito pulled a brush through Lena's perfumed, brown hair as she sat on a stool before a small vanity. Lena wore a thick, white kimono and a light pink sash. Her makeup was sparing but perfect.

"You look so beautiful," Mito said with a smile.

Lena giggled softly. "I feel so strange! I was always the one getting you ready for parties, and now it's like we've switched roles for a day."

Mito leaned down so their faces were level and they could see their reflections in the mirror. "Well, I did learn from the best."

They laughed together. Outside, the Senju camp was buzzing with last minute wedding preparations. The ceremony was due to start within the hour, and it would go on all night for three days. Mito was glad for the occasion after the botched peace talks with Madara. Everyone could use a little celebration in their lives.

Mito selected a pink jade comb from a wooden box nearby and twisted it into Lena's hair. It held up half of her hair, while the rest hung loose over her shoulder.

"Consider this my wedding gift to you," she said.

Lena reached up and touched the intricate comb. Its handle was carved in the shape of breaking waves. "But this is yours. You've had it since you were a girl. I couldn't possibly—"

"You can, and you must. I insist. It's perfect for you."

Mito smoothed out Lena's hair, pleased with how it had turned out.

"Thank you so much. I love it."

"So, are you ready to become Lena Sarutobi?"

Lena blushed. "Oh, it sounds so weird out loud!"

"Nonsense! Now, let's take a look at you."

Lena rose and spun slowly for Mito to see. The kimono was elegant, and its train was dusted pink with embroidered flowers to match the obi and the comb Mito had gifted her. The pale colors brought out her dark complexion and haunting, brown eyes. Mito smiled.

"Stunning," she said. "Sasuke's gonna faint at the altar when he sees you."

Lena's eyes began to water, and she let her eyes fall. She smiled and placed her hands on her belly over the obi. "I'm just so happy."

"And I'm happy for you."

Lena shook her head. "No, I mean..." She looked up, and Mito frowned at the tears in her eyes—tears of joy. "Today isn't just for Sasuke and me."

Mito caught the way she clutched her belly, and understanding dawned. "Wait, Lena... You're expecting?"

"Yes! I just found out. I haven't even told Sasuke yet. I was planning to do it tonight after the ceremony."

Mito's heart soared at the news, full of joy for the older woman who had been one of her closest companions since she was a girl. She pulled Lena into a fierce hug. "That's wonderful news! Oh, he's going to be thrilled!"

Lena laughed through her tears as she hugged Mito back. "Oh no, now all that lovely makeup you put on me's going to smear."

Mito grabbed a handkerchief from the box where the jade comb had been and dabbed at Lena's tears. "There, no harm done."

"Thank you. I just can't believe this is all happening. I've always dreamed of having a family. And I know things are difficult between the Senju and Uchiha clans, but I have to believe that if this kind of miracle is possible, then surely anything is."

Mito hesitated just a moment and hoped Lena could not sense her thoughts behind her smile. "Of course. Now, I'm going to wait with the others. You get ready to walk down that aisle, okay?"

Lena thanked her again, and Mito left to join the rest of the Senju and Uzumaki clans waiting for the ceremony to begin. She paused just outside Lena's tent and took a deep breath.

"I've always dreamed of having a family."

Mito covered her mouth and trembled. Tears stung her eyes and blurred her vision as she remembered Haruka and how her dreams of a child had been cruelly crushed.

"I'm no one."

That haunted curse, despondent and hopeless, still tormented her even now.

"What made her any less worthy?" Mito whispered, knowing that as before, she would have no answer. Life was simply a blessing for some and a curse for others.

Some Senju children, shinobi-in-training that Mito recognized, ran by and waved to her. "Lady Mito! C'mon, the wedding's about to start!"

Mito blinked her tears away and smoothed the forest green kimono she wore. She plastered a smile to her face and waved back. Today was not a day for tears and sadness. "Hey, slow down, I can't run in this thing!"

The kids laughed and gathered around her. Two of them took her hands led her to the crowd gathered to watch the ceremony. Towards the front, a few civilians had set up a band stand and were tuning their instruments.

"Mito! Hey, over here!"

Hashirama jogged toward her, careless of his fine ceremonial robes and the dirt he was kicking up. The kids giggled and ran off as he reached her.

"Hashirama, you're supposed to be officiating," Mito said, eyeing his dusty hem with dismay. "Get up there!"

He put his hands on her shoulders and looked her up and down. "Wow, you look great."

Despite her earlier despair, Mito couldn't help but smile. "Thanks. I'd return the compliment, but you look like you'll need a bath soon."

"Huh?" He looked down and noticed the dust settling into his socks and the hem of his robes. "Oh, oops."

She swatted him lightly on the chest. "At least you're on time. I was sure you'd get lost trying to find the ceremony."

"Nope, I made sure to walk over with Tobirama just in case." He was very proud of this.

She laughed. "Ah yes, how very wise of you, Lord Hashirama."

His smile was kind and warm as he looked down at her. He was close enough to lean on if she chose to take an extra step, but the thought died before it could manifest. The last time he'd leaned on her was because Madara had nearly crushed his windpipe. She did not want to think about that, not today. This was Sasuke and Lena's day, and the memory of Madara had no place darkening it.

Hashirama sensed a change in her and frowned. "Something the matter?"

She met his gaze and held it. He was so earnest and sincere. Only days earlier, that same gaze had been bloodshot and fading in Madara's grip.

"It's Madara, isn't it?" he said.

"How did you know?"

"Lately, you look a little sad when you think about him. I guess...I know the feeling."

The band had began to play a melodious tune on strings and keys. Tobirama was pushing his way through the crowd towards Mito and Hashirama.

"Hashi! Sasuke's waiting, in case you forgot! What the hell're you dinking around here for?"

"Oh, crap! Okay, I'm coming!" Hashirama jogged past Tobirama towards the front of the crowd, kicking up a cloud of dust in his wake.

Mito watched him go, too stunned to move or speak.

How did he know? Am I so obvious to him?

"Mito, you okay? You look like you saw a ghost." Tobirama peered at her suspiciously.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I'm okay, sorry. Let's go sit down."

"Okay. Tōka saved us a place, this way."

Mito let him lead her through the settling crowd to a row of seats up front. Sasuke stood at the head of the crowd next to Hashirama, clean-shaven and spiffed up in a black ceremonial kimono. He'd retained his signature ponytail, though, probably over Lena's futile protests.

"You found her," Tōka said as Mito and Tobirama sat down with her.

"I'm so glad you're feeling better," Mito said.

Tōka grinned. "Like I'd miss seeing Sasuke in full kimono. Look how uncomfortable he looks."

Mito returned her smirk. "He does, doesn't he?"

Tobirama rolled his eyes. "Oh, give the poor guy a break. He looks pretty good."

Tōka leaned over Mito to better see Tobirama. "Hm, someone sounds a little jealous. Can't wait for the day it's you up there in seven layers and geta?"

Tobirama flushed. "I'm in no hurry to get married, obviously."

Tōka and Mito exchanged a knowing look. "Obviously," they said at the same time.

"Huh? Hey, what the hell's that supposed to mean, anyway?"

"Shh, Tobirama, it's starting," Mito said.

He gaped at them in disbelief. "Are you saying no one wants marry me?"

The music changed, and all eyes turned to the back of the crowd. Lena appeared carrying a bouquet of calla lilies and began to walk slowly toward the front in time with the crescendoing music. Mito stole a look at Sasuke and caught him staring open-mouthed. She bit her lip to rein in a wide, satisfied smile. Lena made it to the front and took Sasuke's hand.

Hashirama grinned from ear to ear. "Well, Lena, since Sasuke's busy catching flies over here, lemme say you look gorgeous!"

The gathered guests laughed, and he launched into the wedding rites. Mito looked on between Tōka and Tobirama. Lena's happiness was contagious and permeating the whole crowd of attendees. Soon, the official ceremony was finished, and Sasuke dipped Lena at the waist and sealed the union with a kiss that drew a standing ovation. Mito stood with them and clapped. She caught Hashirama's eyes, bright with joy, and he held her gaze.

"Everyone, meet my wife!" Sasuke said.

He picked her up bridal style and spun around. The cheers intensified, and the band picked up the pace of their music. People started dancing, and some civilians on duty brought food to tables set up near the back.

Mito was swept away with the celebration, laughing all the while.

The party was everything a party should be. The sun had long set, and both Senju and Uzumaki, shinobi and civilian, celebrated Sasuke and Lena's marriage with food, drink, and endless dancing. There were open-fire spits roasting whole goats and wild fowl, as well as large pots with barley stew boiling over smoking embers. Wine and ale flowed as fluidly as the music that hadn't stopped playing since the start of the ceremony. Some stalls had even been set up for the children to play darts and bob for apples.

Hashirama had gotten wrangled into a rather intense game of apple-bobbing with some kids, which was a surprise to no one, and his head was currently dunked in a bucket as his teeth chomped in search of an elusive fruit.

"Hey, he's gonna win!" one boy cheered.

"No way, he can't beat my record!" another boy said, puffing out his little chest.

Hashirama surfaced for air and sluiced water all over the front of his formal kimono—he would eventually be needing that bath Mito had teased him about earlier—but he had an apple in his mouth to show for his valiant efforts.

"Wow, he did it!" a little girl said.

Hashirama grinned behind the apple. "Ah courf I deh!"

The little girl giggled at his rather poor attempt to talk around the apple.

A slender hand suddenly took hold of the apple still in his mouth and pulled. Hashirama bit down without thinking and came away with a hunk of sweet fruit in his mouth.

"Hashirama Senju, is there anything can't do?"

Mito held the apple in her hand and looked down at him expectantly. The kids snickered and whispered among themselves.

Hashirama swallowed the chunk of apple and grinned. "Plenty of things. But I guess I lucked out and got the good apple-bobbing genes."

Mito smirked. "I guess you did." She took a bite of his hard-won apple, and his mouth went dry at the sight.

"Lord Hashirama, come play darts with us!" a little boy pleaded as he tugged on Hashirama's hand.

"Yeah, come on!"

Hashirama laughed and stood up. "Aw man, I'd love to, guys! But I'd like to talk to Lady Mito now, so how about next time, okay? I promise."

The kids ran off to play darts and left Hashirama and Mito alone. She tossed him the apple.

"The children all adore you," she said.

Hashirama shrugged and chewed on the apple. "I've always liked kids. They're a good bunch, too."

"I can tell."

Hashirama tossed the cleaned apple core into a nearby bin. He fell into step with Mito, and they began to walk together.

"Today was so much fun," Mito said.

"Yeah," he said dreamily. "I just love weddings! I wish we could have more of them. They make everybody so happy."

"Me, too. It's nice to have an excuse for everyone to relax and have fun."

They meandered among groups of friends drinking and toasting to good health, children playing tag, and women carving up meat from the spits to serve to anyone who was hungry. Torches cast a dim light over the camp and reflected in Mito's green eyes. A group of Uzumaki shinobi were dancing together, and they spilled over onto the path. Hashirama put a hand on the small of Mito's back and maneuvered her around them. Her natural warmth was comforting against the slight night chill, and he leaned closer without thinking.

Mito stopped near the edge of the crowd, and Hashirama let his hand fall. She was gazing at a nearby bonfire. "Why don't you ever ask me about him?" she said all of a sudden.

Hashirama did not have to ask to know she was thinking about Madara. "I guess...because there was never anything to ask. Things were always pretty clear."

"I see."

She wasn't looking at him, and he began to fidget. The partygoers continued to laugh and drink together, but Hashirama felt none of their warmth as Madara's shadow filled the space between him and Mito. He struggled for the right words.

"I just meant, I mean, there's no problem. Not that it's any of my business, you know. I mean, of course you know, but I just want you to know that I know, you know? Um... Is that a problem?"

"Are you asking if it's a problem that it's not a problem?"

Hashirama rubbed his eyes. "Why do I feel like we've had this conversation before?"

When he looked up again, she looked softer. More like herself.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It wasn't fair of me to put you on the spot like that. I just thought that with the alliance between our clans, and Madara being Uchiha... We've just never really talked about it." She shook her head. "It's fine. Don't think anything of it."

He reached for her hand. It was clammy and cold. "It's not fine, is it? Something's different."

Mito smiled sadly. "I've been asking myself that same question lately."

"Mito," Hashirama said gently, tempted to hold her close, "what happened?"

She told him about her last encounter with Madara in Earth Country when he attacked the Kamizuru clan and Madara's reaction when she'd disapproved of his violent actions. She also told him about Haruka's suicide, about the baby Madara had lost. About how she'd been there, seen it all happen. It all came pouring out, jumbled and tangled with emotions she'd been keeping to herself for so long, and he could scarcely keep up with it all.

"It was awful," Mito said, her voice strained. "There was nothing anyone could do for Haruka, and she just... Oh, Hashirama, it was so awful."

Hashirama could hardly believe what he was hearing. "My god, he never told me. I knew Haruka died and their child with her, but I had no idea..."

"You know, he wouldn't even look at me after that. I've never been afraid of Madara, but that day something in him changed. I felt like an outsider, and that scared me. It was the same after the Kamizuru clan massacre. Worse, even."

Hashirama heard her words but not her voice. In his memory, all he could imagine was Madara.

"You don't know what it's like."

"How can I let you live when they're dead?"

Hashirama rubbed his tired eyes. Some dream, huh?

"I'm sorry, Hashirama." Mito's voice brought Hashirama back to the present, where she was forcing a smile like nothing was the matter. "I'm being really selfish by saying all this to you, of all people. You and Madara have been through so much, but you still manage to hold onto your dream. And your friendship."

"Nah, it's okay. I guess I've got a little more experience with loving a person like Madara." He reached for her and smoothed her bangs behind her ear. "So lemme take on some of that burden for you. I'm a little bigger than you, so I can handle the extra weight."

Mito's glassy eyes were dark and stormy despite the flickering firelight. If he didn't know her better, he was sure she would shatter under his touch right there. "Why are you so wonderful?"

Hashirama's heart wrenched at the sight of her, those words, the sadness and the desperation and the longing reflected in her firelit eyes. Fear froze him in place, but he wished with all his heart that he could touch her now. It was like staring deep into a dark wood—surely monsters lurked within, but the forest was so lovely, so deep and silent with no one around for miles except the two of them, no one to leer and judge and whisper, not that he had ever cared about such things. He only really cared about her.

"Oi, Hashirama! Mito!" Sasuke waved at them by one of the bonfires. He had an enormous drumstick in his hand that he'd already taken a few bites from. "Get your asses over here and have a drink with me! It's my party, and tonight I'm the boss, hah!"

The spell was broken, and suddenly Hashirama could move again. But Mito moved first and swallowed the raw emotions she'd only moments ago laid bare for him to see.

She smiled and waved back. "We're coming, save us a seat!" She went to catch up with an already quite drunk Sasuke and called back to Hashirama, "Come on, I think we both deserve to have a little fun."

She waited. Hashirama rubbed his eyes hard. "Yeah, I'm coming." He flashed her a bright smile and trotted after her at a sedate pace.

There was no room for shadows in the subterranean shrine where Madara kneeled on the earthen floor and peered at the ancient, stone tablet enshrined just inches from his face. Candles flickered beneath it, and oil lamps he'd brought in himself on earlier occasions glowed with manmade light. He traced the cryptic words with his Mangekyo Sharingan, searching for a way to fill in the gaps in his understanding.

"'But when the two come together," Madara read aloud, "they can create a perfect and harmonious union.' What the hell does that mean?"

Come together with the Senju?

He shook his head. "Damn you, Hashirama. As if I could accept any olive branch after everything we've been through. Not yet."

Then when? What's it going to take?

Madara blinked hard and rubbed his eyes to force them to water. They itched and stung, but he rubbed harder.

"I know the answers are in here, damnit, so why can't I see them? What am I missing?"

"It's your eyes," a voice answered him. "They're not good enough."

Madara let his hand fall. He allowed himself a moment to deactivate the Sharingan and blink away the artificial tears he'd created to soothe the pain in his eyes. "Izuna, you know I don't like to be disturbed down here."

Izuna ignored the warning and bravely approached his taciturn brother. He dimmed the lanterns hanging near the tablet, silent. The small shrine soon invited shadows to its corners.

"It was so bright in here I thought you might be missing the sun. It'll be up in a few hours," Izuna said.

"I'm a little busy here. If you don't have any urgent news, then leave."

Izuna activated his own Mangekyo Sharingan and stared at the tablet. "One thing's for sure: there's more written here than what we can decipher. And that means the Sharingan isn't enough."

Madara rose. "I know that."

"Even all this light won't help you get any closer to the truth."

Madara grabbed Izuna by the collar. "Be careful. I'm your brother, but I'm also your leader."

Izuna deactivated the Sharingan and put his hands over Madara's. The look in his eyes reminded Madara of when they were kids, how Izuna would gaze up at him with those big, dark eyes so full of wonder and awe at his big brother who could carry the world on his shoulders. Izuna smiled sadly.

"My eyes were always sharper than yours, Brother. You can't lie to me."

Madara's hands shook, and he released Izuna. Anger and shame made him feel warm, and he ran his hands through his long bangs to hide the tremble. Izuna waited, ever patient and understanding. Madara stared at one of the candles slowly burning beneath the suspended tablet.

"Who else knows?" he demanded.

"Only me. Only because I was looking."

"Good. I only need one last campaign to defeat the Senju once and for all, anyway. After that, nothing else will matter."

Izuna gasped. "You can't say that. The Uchiha need you."

"If this is the price I have to pay, then so be it. It's nothing compared to what Father had to endure."

"It's everything. Father taught us that the Uchiha come first, but to me, you come first. I'm not about to let what happened to Haruka happen to you."

Madara sighed. "There's nothing you can do. It's not your job to take care of me."

"You always told me that we were one, like the brightest light that casts the darkest shadow. There can't be one without the other."

Izuna drew a kunai from his sleeve. Madara paled.

"Izuna, what're you doing? Stop!"

But in the dim lighting, Madara's deteriorating eyes missed his target by just enough to count. Izuna avoided his brother's grasp easily. Blood squirted across Madara's cheeks, warm, and dripped down his chin.

"Izuna!"

Madara caught him as he staggered to the floor. Madara's eyes were wide with fear and adrenaline. The guards outside heard Madara's shouting and rushed in to help. But they were too late.

Izuna shook in Madara's arms, but he smiled. "I'm not afraid of the dark. I'll stay here in the shadows so you can fight in the light."

Madara's fingers smeared with Izuna's blood as he cupped his little brother's cheek. Any words he may have spoken died in his throat. The Uchiha guards arrived with hands and echoing footsteps and shouts for a medic, something to stop the bleeding. And all Madara could do was stare in shock at the blurry image just inches from his face.

He couldn't even make out Izuna's smile.

Mito woke early the morning after the festivities were officially over. They had lasted for three days, and she'd had more to drink than she'd ever had in her life. She groaned in her bed and rolled over, cursing the sun for shining.

"What the hell time is it?" she grumbled to no one.

The smells of breakfast were in the air, and she could hear people talking and working outside somewhere. She groaned again for good measure and pulled herself to the edge of the bed. A jug of water sat near the head of the bed, and she greedily gulped down half of it. Thirst quenched, she sat up and put a hand on her forehead. To continue sleeping, or to find some food? This was the eternal struggle on mornings after a night of heavy drinking and merriment, or in this case three nights.

But the answer was always food in Mito's case. It was too much to hope for Lena's cooking since it had been her wedding, but Lena wasn't the only one who knew how to cure a hangover. With dreams of breakfast in mind, Mito rolled out of bed and dressed as quickly as she could.

She wandered to the tent where she and the other clan leaders usually dined together. She greeted the people she passed, but no one seemed to notice her yawning. Perhaps they, too, were exhausted from having so much fun over the last three days. Voices drifted from the dining tent, and Mito paused to listen before entering. Tobirama must have been quite hungover not to have sensed her approach.

"I'm telling you, it was weird. Even for Izuna," Tobirama said.

"So he said something to you, too," Tōka said. "I don't like this. I've got a really bad feeling."

"Listen, I always have a bad feeling when it comes to Izuna. But this was something... I dunno, it was just—"

"Ominous? Yeah, I know what you mean, but I don't know what it means."

"Okay, so the Uchiha have always been batshit crazy."

"But this is different," Tōka said. "You know it is."

There was a pause, and Mito strained to listen.

"He said... He said, 'This hatred is a curse'," Tobirama said. "That mean anything to you?"

"I really hope not."

Mito decided she'd eavesdropped enough and made her presence known by entering the tent. "Good morning."

Tobirama and Tōka perked up and greeted her.

"Oh, good morning, Mito," Tōka said. She passed her a plate. "You look like you could use some breakfast."

Tobirama snorted. "Don't we all. Damn, I dunno if this migraine's ever going away."

Mito smirked and took a seat across the table. "It's been a long three days."

She piled her plate high with food and began to eat. A comfortable silence reigned for a few minutes as everyone filled their bellies. The food's healing effect was almost immediate, and Mito sighed as the night's festivities faded to a pleasant memory.

"Tōka, it looks like you're fully recovered," Mito said.

"Yeah, I'm back to my usual self, I think. I'm just glad I was able to be here for the wedding."

"Remind me to ban weddings when I'm head of the Senju clan," Tobirama said. "That was more alcohol and socializing than I've ever had to put up with in my life. Never again."

Mito laughed. Tōka ribbed him in the side. "Oh, cut it out. You sound like an old man, seriously. Just be happy for Sasuke and Lena."

Tobirama rubbed his side and shot his cousin a dirty look. "Who said I'm not happy for them? But come on, three days to celebrate? That's just ridiculous."

Tōka rolled her eyes. "I'll say it again. Izuna definitely had a point about you."

Mito took a sip of orange juice. "Speaking of Izuna, I couldn't help but overhear some of what you were talking about just before I got here. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but what was that all about?"

Tōka and Tobirama exchanged a look, playful banter forgotten.

"How much did you hear?" Tobirama asked.

"Enough to wonder why you think he's cursed. Did something happen? Because if it did, then I think you better tell me what's going on. Does Hashirama know anything about this?"

Tobirama made a face. "That's just the problem—Hashi doesn't listen. You of all people know that, Mito."

"Tobirama," Tōka warned.

"Listen to what?" Mito asked. Nobody said a word, and she forced herself to lean back in her chair and count to five in her head. With Tobirama, a lost temper was a lost chance to reason with him, no matter the subject. And Tōka almost always stood with him. "Since the Uzumaki and I came out here with you, I've gotten to know you all pretty well. I recognize that you two are in each other's confidence, and that sometimes Hashirama can be a frustrating person to reason with. I suspect this time it's something pretty important if you think even I won't be able to hear you out. But I'm not Hashirama, and I'm listening. So please, enlighten me."

Tōka remained tight-lipped, but Tobirama looked about ready to break something.

"Tobirama?" Mito said.

"There's something wrong with Izuna. With the Uchiha," he said at length.

"What, specifically?"

"...We're not sure," Tōka said. "But we... We think Izuna might've tried to warn us somehow. I don't know if he realized what he was saying. There's something wrong with him."

"I don't even know who you are anymore," Mito had accused Madara. Her neck felt warm at the memory, and the beginnings of worry niggled at the back of her mind. Why did this all feel so familiar?

Mito swallowed hard. "He's changed, you mean."

"Yes. You sound like you know something, too."

"...Madara, he's not the man I used to know."

"Probably better not to have known him at all, if you ask me," Tobirama said with a touch of venom.

"Tobirama!" Tōka hissed.

"I know about you and Madara, you know," Tobirama said. "We all do. Normally I don't give a shit what people do in their personal lives, but this is different. This is the Uchiha, and you... You're..."

His outrage was no surprise. Mito had always known that Madara would not be an easy man to love. He was Uchiha, and she was Uzumaki.

"A man's name is his identity; it's everything."

Back then, Mito had not known how right Madara was. To Tobirama, and to the rest of the Senju, his name was proof of her betrayal, not of her love. A part of Mito wanted to scream. A traitorous part of her agreed with Tobirama.

"That's enough," Tōka said, the anger in her voice almost palpable in the small tent. "That was way out of line, Tobirama, even for you."

"I'm out of line?" Tobirama said, incredulous.

"It's all right, Tōka," Mito said. "I don't blame anyone for holding a grudge against the Uchiha." She rose and held Tobirama's gaze. "But you don't know Madara like I do, and that's why you cannot understand why Hashirama and I will never give up on him. As for the rest, I hope that by now you know me well enough to know where my loyalties lie. No matter what."

Tobirama's expression faltered, and he had the decency to look ashamed. "I'm sorry, that came out wrong. Mito, I... Of course I know you'd never turn on us, I only meant..."

"I know exactly what you meant," Mito said, cool and calm. "But there are things you don't know. Loyalty, trust, love... They're not always so black and white." She looked between Tōka and Tobirama, their gazes lowered in frustration and shame. "I wonder if you haven't already seen a little of that for yourselves. Izuna... He's not like the others, is he?"

The tension in the tent had reached its limit, and so had Tobirama. He had no words for her, no smart retort or rude quip. He met her gaze, and Mito's face fell at how young he looked in that moment, small and unsure and a little afraid.

"I think..." Tōka began. "I think part of the problem is that Hashirama doesn't listen to us. I know he wants peace, and it's not that I don't agree, but some things do feel like they're more black and white than he's willing to admit."

"Yeah," Tobirama said, drawing confidence from Tōka. "He just doesn't get it. This isn't just about Madara, it's about all of them."

Mito nodded. "I know that Hashirama doesn't understand your concerns. But you have to understand that you are not your brother. He doesn't see the world the way any of us do. I know that may feel like a weakness, but I don't think it is. I really believe he can fix this."

Tobirama wrinkled his nose, and for a moment Mito thought he might still try to argue. "Hey, do you smell that?" he said.

Tōka stood up and sniffed the air. "It smells like smoke."

Mito smelled it, too, and when she stopped to listen, she thought she heard something crash. Then, screaming. She and the two Senju cousins ran outside in alarm, their previous animosity forgotten, to see what the commotion was.

"You're right, Mito," Tobirama said. "I'm not my brother. And I'm not gonna waste my breath trying to talk us out of this one."

Mito followed his gaze to a banner raised high in the distance. It bore the Uchiha fan sigil.

"Oh my god," Tōka said. "They're here?"

"Are you really surprised?" Tobirama said. "Whatever, let's just go before they burn the whole camp down!"

Mito watched them run off to get their armor as she stood there a moment in shock.

The Uchiha are here.

What was Madara thinking? This was insane even for the Uchiha. Her first thoughts were of the innocent civilians that lived in the Senju camp, defenseless save for the shinobi sworn to protect them.

"Lady Mito!"

Mako ran toward her with two other Uzumaki soldiers in tow. They were all dressed in their armor and ready for battle as though they'd been expecting it.

"General Mako," she said, forcing her worries to a dark corner of her mind so she could focus on the task at hand.

"The Uchiha are attacking. I realize that part of our alliance says that we're under no obligation to engage the Uchiha, but in my professional opinion, I don't think we have a choice."

A small explosion went off nearby. The fires were spreading. Mito bit her lip.

"We'll focus on guarding the Senju civilian population. I understand your concerns, but our alliance conditions still stand. We don't interfere with Senju-Uchiha disputes."

"But Lady Mito, they're attacking the camp. This is an unmitigated disaster." Mako was usually so stoic and unemotional, but now he was truly concerned and willing to question her decision.

Mito could not ignore his justified fear. "Protect the civilians. And if the Uchiha attack you, defend yourselves. I don't mean to condemn us all to a complacent death."

Mako was not completely mollified, but he didn't question her any further. "Yes, my lady. And what will you do?"

"I'll join you as soon as I retrieve my armor. You go on ahead. Round up the civilians and get them out via the southwest exit. It's the farthest away from the Uchiha from what I can gather."

Mako bowed and ran off to do her bidding. Mito returned to her tent to gear up. All the while, her thoughts were on the conversation she'd had with Tōka and Tobirama.

"This hatred is a curse."

"Madara, what are you doing?" she asked herself as she strapped on a whalebone arm brace.

Outside it was chaos. When she was ready to go, Mito made her way toward the civilian ward. People were running, screaming in fear. Some bore burns, women and men and children alike. Mito shouted for everyone to head to the southwest exit, where Uzumaki shinobi would guide them to safety. They scrambled to follow her orders, but the Uchiha soldiers responsible for attacking them were not far behind. As they approached, Mito positioned herself between them and the fleeing civilians.

The boldest of the Uchiha thought he could run right through her. He slashed at her with a kunai, Sharingan red and angry, but Mito met his attack head on and grabbed his arm. She twisted around him and took his arm with her until it cracked. He wailed in pain and crumbled to his knees.

"Not another step, Uchiha," she bellowed at the rest of them.

"Lady Mito!" Mako ran to join her. "The rest of my men are herding the civilians to safety, but more are scattered around the camp."

"That's fine. We'll hold off the Uchiha here."

"Well, well, what do we have here? We really have to stop meeting like this, Mito."

Mito narrowed her eyes at the Uchiha General that approached at a lazy saunter. "Hikaku. I suggest you turn around and go home. I'd rather not fight you."

"You know, I never really liked you," Hikaku said. "Never saw what Madara did, I guess." He let her see his blazing Sharingan trail up and down the length of her, as though he was examining a choice piece of meat. "From here, you don't really look worth it."

Mito tried to ignore the skin-crawling disgust his taunting elicited. She knew Hikaku well, well enough to know that he was every bit as smart and cunning as Madara. He knew exactly what to say to rattle her. "This is your last warning," she said. "Our feud is not with the Uchiha, but we're obligated to defend the Senju civilians if you choose to attack them."

Hikaku's Sharingan glowed in the morning sun. The pretense was gone. He was just a soldier now, a killer with blood on the mind. "I think I'll take my chances."

Fool.

Mito clapped her hands together and quickened her chakra. A familiar poison fused with her rushing blood and awakened a power deep inside that she had spent an entire year of her life honing. The venomous, raw power prickled upon her skin and escaped through her pores to coat her in a second skin, but the only outward sign of the change in her was the blue rings around her now golden eyes. The Yin seal on her forehead pulsed with Slug Sage chakra.

"Then you gamble with your life," she said.

She pulled her hands apart and released the natural sage energy she'd built up between them. It rolled out in a wave and hit the nearest Uchiha soldiers so hard that they flew back twenty feet.

"Bitch," Hikaku spat.

He ran at her with fire at his back and she rose to defend against him, determined not to let him or any of his men get past her.

Hashirama was on his way back to camp when he noticed that something was terribly wrong. An early riser by nature, he never missed his morning meditation away from the hustle and bustle of the Senju camp. But after three days of celebration, he was looking forward to a hot, long breakfast with his favorite people.

His hunger disappeared at the sight of smoke and fire surrounding the northern entrance to the Senju camp and the banners that flew behind it.

"Damnit, Madara. What the hell are you doing?"

Hashirama ran back to camp, but he went a bit out of his way to get behind the brunt of the Uchiha infantry. They didn't know what hit them when the ground split under their feet and roots thicker around than three men burst from the earth.

"Hashirama! 'Bout time you showed up!"

Sasuke and Mashira were already in the thick of things fighting, but they made their way toward Hashirama as he jumped off one of the vines he'd summoned.

"Have you seen him?" Hashirama demanded.

"Not yet," Sasuke said grimly. His face was smudged with soot from the Uchiha's fire attacks as well as his own. "Looks like he brought the whole family with him this time."

The Uchiha attacked from all sides with fire and lightning. But as soon as the Senju soldiers saw their leader, their morale was restored and they fought harder to push back the invaders. They shouted battle cries of 'Senju!' and 'Justice!' and 'Hashirama! Hashirama! Hashirama!'

"Hashirama!"

Madara's voice cut through the cheers and rang out over the clang of steel and the roar of fire. He descended on the battlefield like a hurricane, upsetting everyone in his path as they scrambled to rush out of his way.

"Does he have to be so goddamned dramatic about it?" Sasuke said.

Hashirama was not in a joking mood. "Leave him to me."

Sasuke was way ahead of him as he teamed up with Mashira and kicked back three Great Fireballs at the Uchiha, who didn't anticipate their own attacks turned against them. Hashirama summoned more tree roots and launched them at Madara. Madara's scythe sliced clean through one that would have impaled him.

"What're you doing here? There are innocent civilians here!" Hashirama shouted at him.

"All's fair in love and war, old friend," Madara sneered. "Prepare to die!"

Hashirama's summoned roots burned when Madara launched a slew of fireballs at them. He swung his wooden gunbai and unleashed a gusting wind technique that grew the fires to colossal heights. Hashirama fell back and threw up a thick wall of earth to protect himself from the molten onslaught. Sasuke was somewhere nearby fending off Uchiha soldiers alongside more Senju shinobi, but most of them had cleared out to avoid Hashirama and Madara's battle.

I have no choice, Hashirama thought dismally as Madara summoned his trademark black fire. He wasn't fooling around today.

He fell still and concentrated on the feel of the earth beneath his feet, drawing energy from it as he had a thousand times before. He'd always told Tobirama that there was power in the world around them if only shinobi bothered to learn how to tap into it. Power enough to defeat Madara once and for all? He would find out today.

Natural energy engorged Hashirama's veins and pumped him full of power. Its effects manifested upon his skin in curling, red markings around his eyes and forehead, down his arms to his fingertips. He slammed his hand on the ground and forced massive, fleshy leaves to grow and smother Amaterasu before it could spread out of control. Madara could only gape in shock.

"You put out Amaterasu," he said.

"We made a promise to get stronger, didn't we? I haven't forgotten it!"

Madara bared his teeth in a snarl. "Neither have I."

Hashirama gasped at the voice in his ear so close even though Madara had been a hundred feet away just a second ago. He spun and caught Madara's katana on his arm guard. They were inches apart, eye to eye.

"What the—" Hashirama gasped.

"You can't escape me anymore, Hashirama."

Madara's Sharingan spun in patterns Hashirama had never seen before, and the world lost all its color as they plunged together into a black and white and red void where the moon was full and Madara had free rein.

Somewhere in the chaos, Tōka lost Tobirama. But there were so many enemies that she barely had time to worry about him as she executed genjutsu after genjutsu and cut down anyone in her path. The fire made it hard to breath, though, and she found herself forced to take temporary cover in a tent to escape asphyxiation. It turned out that inside was worse.

"Die, Senju!" an Uchiha kunoichi screamed as she launched a bolt of lightning at Tōka.

Tōka fell back and took the hit as a graze to her flank, crying out as the searing pain boiled her skin under her armor and raised painful, swollen welts that popped. The lightning destroyed the back wall of the tent, charring it until there was nothing left. Tōka used the destruction to craft a genjutsu powerful enough to make the kunoichi think her own attack was coming back for her. In her fear, she stumbled backwards, tripped, and slashed up her neck on a broken medicine jar that had shattered when the lightning passed through it. She didn't get up, and Tōka didn't wait around to see if she would.

Outside, Tōka drew her chokutō and prepared for the next battle, which ended up being the one she was dreading the most.

"Lightning," he said. "I can smell it on you."

Tōka had the sense to dodge instead of defend against the sparking tantō aimed at her head. She rolled and righted herself.

"Izuna?" she said.

Izuna retrieved his electrified blades from the ground and turned toward her. He wore a blindfold.

"I liked the genjutsu you used on me last time we met, Tōka."

How does he know it's me?

He lunged, and Tōka rolled again. This time, she tore the earth up with her in a last-minute Douton technique. Izuna's tantō connected with the rolling rock, and their electricity dissipated. Tōka was quick to follow up with taijutsu. They clashed in a flurry of blades and popping electricity, and he was scary fast for a guy wearing a blindfold. Tōka cried out when he managed to slash the small of her back, a shallow cut through her thick armor, but a hit nonetheless. She fell into a roll and put some distance between them.

"Izuna, what happened to you?" she said, fighting to catch her breath.

The bottom of his blindfold was starting to turn red with blood, but he did not appear concerned.

"You wouldn't understand," he said.

"Try me!"

His fingers began to spark with electricity again, and Tōka hauled herself to her feet. He lunged, blind to the world but so sensitive to her every move. Her genjutsu wouldn't save her now that he could not see and be ensnared. Resigned to the fate she'd always known would catch up to her someday, Tōka held out her chokutō and prepared to meet his attack.

Only, it never came.

Hikaku's Great Fireball was disgustingly immense, as powerful as Madara's. Mito braced herself for impact and drew senjutsu to her palms. They glowed with invisible seals she'd painted on them over the years that looped up her forearms, like a cage. But this cage was not meant for her.

The fire hit her palms and she dug her fingers into it. The heat made her sweat and the flames singed the ends of her bangs. Sage chakra flooded to her hands and mixed with the fire until she could feel every part of it, as though it were a living, breathing thing. The heat, the greed, the desperation, the anger—all an extension of the man powering it. Little by little, it shrank and disappeared through her palms until there was nothing left.

"What the fuck?" Hikaku said.

Between them, the bodies had piled up. Uchiha, Senju, and civilians. Children. There was only one of her, and she couldn't protect everyone coming through here. But she could sure as hell try.

"Now, it's your turn to burn," she said.

The seals on her palms released and she twisted. Fire rings swept around her in 360 degrees as she spun, growing fat and hot with the chakra Hikaku had so graciously imbued them. And then they flew. Hikaku and a few Uchiha soldiers near him scrambled to escape, but the fire was fast. It hit the slowest of them and incinerated everything it touched. Their armor melted through their skin and weighed them down. Within seconds, the fire had died down to a simmer as it slowly cooked them in their armor and devoured their flesh. A few escaped, but Hikaku did not.

Mito shook as she watched the bodies smolder and burn. Their guts had liquefied and oozed out in smoking, gelatinous puddles, aflame and foul with the stench of cooked flesh. Her fingers were raw and black with soot and stung as though she'd dipped them in embers. The sage chakra had amplified the fire to many times its original force and magnitude to the point where her seals almost couldn't protect her body from it.

"Lady Mito," Mako said.

He was bleeding from a wound in his side, and his face and armor were smeared with soot and the blood of the enemy, but he was standing. A few of the Uzumaki soldiers under his command were scattered about, helping each other stand and regroup after the Uchiha's retreat.

"General."

He was looking at her with a guarded expression—fear?—and he swallowed like it pained him. "You need to rest."

Mito looked around. There had to be at least an entire garrison of Uchiha soldiers on the ground either dead or dying between the surviving Uzumaki and Senju shinobi that had gathered to defend the civilians. She went cold despite the tingling burn in her hands. Hikaku's body was contorted nearly beyond recognition, food for his own fire at her feet.

I did this?

"Most of the civilians got to safety. We were successful," Mako said.

The fighting wasn't over yet, though. In the distance, she could hear the telltale booming sounds of Hashirama's battle with Madara. They tended to restructure the landscape when they fought.

"There's no time to waste. Make sure there's no further danger to the civilians. I leave you in charge," Mito said.

"What're you going to do?"

Mito glanced in the direction of Hashirama and Madara's apocalyptic fight. "I'm going to stop this fighting once and for all."

She took off past the burning Uchiha corpses and ran towards the center of the fighting.

"Welcome to Tsukuyomi," Madara's voice echoed from every direction all at once.

Hashirama looked around, but all he could see were open fields of black on white and a red moon above. Fire burned behind him, black like this place, but it gave off no heat.

"Tsukuyomi," Hashirama repeated. "But this is Izuna's technique."

"Not anymore."

Hashirama was tired of these illusory games. "Madara! Show yourself!"

The ground rumbled beneath Hashirama's feet, and a hand yanked him down before he could escape. He opened his mouth to cry out, but he was soon dragged underground. Or rather, underwater. He drifted in a black sea, and below him the red moon flickered beyond the surface. This whole place was a Wonderland turned on its head, and Hashirama was lost in its mad space and time completely at Madara's mercy.

"Izuna was right," Madara's voice echoed. "There's no Uchiha clan without me."

Hashirama swam in the direction he thought was up and eventually breached the black sea's surface and gulped in a breath. Madara hovered above in the sky, silhouetted against the red moon.

"What did you do?" Hashirama said, afraid of the answer.

"It's not what I did," Madara said. "It's what I'm going to do next!"

Hashirama channeled his senjutsu and churned the black water until it lifted him into the air atop a waterspout. "Madara!"

But just as he was about to connect, his vision shattered. The blackness cracked and fell away, and a light too bright took its place. Hashirama shielded his eyes and lost control of his technique. Before he knew what was up and what was down, solid ground met the soles of his feet. He was back in the real world.

"Woman, get out of my way!" Madara shouted.

"Mito?" Hashirama said.

She stood between them, shaking with barely contained rage. Golden chakra chains extended from her sleeves and wrapped around both Madara and Hashirama, trapping them. The chain was beginning to burn through Hashirama's armor. She glared at Madara.

"And let you two kill each other? Not a chance."

"What happened to your promise not to interfere?" Madara said. "All I see is the two of you plotting against me!"

"Enough already! I'm not against you, and neither is Hashirama!"

Hashirama was about to try to break free of her grip with an earth technique, but she retracted the chains.

"Oh, Madara... What have you done?" she asked. The elemental fury that had fueled her before was gone, replaced by a deep-seated despair as she pleaded with the man Hashirama knew she loved.

Hashirama approached her carefully from behind. He got another look at Madara, this time not within Tsukuyomi's shadowy realm.

"The Uchiha always thought the Sharingan was the epitome of doujutsu, but they were wrong. There are levels beyond it, and I'll find them." Madara raised a hand to his temple, and Hashirama once again looked into the eyes he didn't recognize. "The first step was to make my sight eternal by taking Izuna's eyes."

Mito gasped and covered her mouth.

"You stole your own brother's eyes?" Hashirama said, scarcely believing his own words. Surely Madara, who loved his brother as much as Hashirama loved his own, could never be capable of such violence...

"Steal? Never. It was Izuna's idea. I've told you both before—if you want something, you have to work for it. I'm not about to let Izuna's sacrifice be in vain."

"Madara, so help me—if you take another step, I won't hold back," Mito warned.

Hashirama put a heavy hand on her shoulder. "Madara's my responsibility. Stay out of this, Mito."

Mito was about to protest when Tōka's voice cut through the din of battle.

"Izuna!" she shrieked.

Hashirama's mouth went dry at the way Madara's expression warped from cold fury to desperation. When he ran off in the direction of the scream, Hashirama was quick to follow with Mito.

Tobirama's hand did not shake, and he did not relent. Since the time he was old enough to walk, he'd held a sword in his hand. Every strike made him steadier, more precise, and this one was no different.

Except this one was different. This one wasn't supposed to happen. Blood splattered over his sword's hilt and coated his hand, sticky.

"Izuna!" Tōka screamed.

The shunshin wasn't perfected, but Tobirama had been practicing. He was already so fast, but Izuna was fast, too. So he had to practice, make it better, because the blink of an eye could mean the difference between life and death. The blink of an eye was an eternity when he was moving as fast as the sun's rays can light up the morning sky—an eternity for eyes that can see the future, eyes that had always seen Tobirama coming no matter how quick he was. In his imagination, Tobirama had always assumed this would go on forever, just as he imagined the Senju-Uchiha feud would continue until the end of time. It was just the way things were, the way they had always been. That would never change, until it did.

"Tobirama," Izuna said. Blood coated his lips and teeth and dribbled onto his chin.

Tobirama's eyes were wide, incredulous at what he'd done, and finally he began to tremble. Izuna's extra weight on his blade made them teeter, and they would have collapsed together if Tōka hadn't been there to catch them. Tobirama's katana slipped out of his blood-slicked hand, and Izuna fell back into Tōka's waiting arms on the ground.

"Oh my god," she said, hands shaking as she had no idea what to do with them. "Oh my god."

Tobirama sank to his knees, the weight of reality bearing down. His breathing was shallow and tasted sour on his tongue. He still could not believe what he was seeing.

"You were supposed to avoid that," he said more to himself than to Izuna. "You always see me coming."

Izuna coughed, and more blood dribbled down his pale chin.

"He's blind, Tobirama," Tōka said, sniffling to hide a sob. "He was like this when I found him."

"Blind?" He'd already noticed the blindfold, but now it made sense. Blood was seeping through it where Izuna's eyes should have been. "Dammnit, Izuna, what the fuck are you doing out here fighting blind?"

"Couldn't leave you here all by yourself." The teasing in his tone fell upon deaf ears when he coughed on his own blood. It bubbled up from his wounds like it could not wait to get out.

The wound was mortal, but Tobirama didn't have to look at it to know. He didn't know any other way to fight Izuna.

"You were supposed to avoid it," Tobirama said again, like a mantra that would reset what had just happened if he just kept repeating it. "Damn you to hell."

Izuna smirked, a ghastly sight that reminded Tobirama of a weeping wound. "I'll wait for you there."

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," Tōka choked out over her tears. She fisted her hand in Izuna's shirt front.

Izuna searched for her hand weakly and smeared her knuckles with his blood. "Yes, it was."

Tobirama's vision blurred with traitorous tears. This was no way for things to end, so suddenly and so sloppily. Izuna was a warrior, one of the best, and he deserved better, Uchiha or no. Izuna shuddered.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Tobirama stared in shock as Izuna faded. There was no light that left his eyes or a final, quivering breath. As before, there was only darkness, and Izuna smiled. The seconds ticked by, but it wasn't until Izuna's hand slipped out of Tōka's that Tobirama jerked awake and wiped an arm across his face to hide the tears. Izuna's blood smeared on his cheeks, and his chest constricted.

"Izuna!"

Tobirama and Tōka looked up to see Madara sprinting toward them. They scrambled out of his way in a fright just as he sank to the earth and held his little brother in his arms.

Mito caught up to Hashirama and Madara just as they arrived at the place where they'd heard Tōka scream. Madara fell to the ground and cradled a body, while Tōka and Tobirama practically stepped over each other to get out of his way. They were covered in blood, but it wasn't theirs.

"Oh god, no," Hashirama said, horrified.

Mito covered her mouth in shock at the sight. Izuna lay unmoving with a katana protruding from his chest. Madara held him in his arms and shouted his name over and over. Izuna's blindfold was soaked through with blood where his eyes should have been. A knot formed in Mito's throat as she continued to watch, and she could not help the tears that began to fall as her heart ached for Madara in this moment.

"Izuna," Madara said again, this time softly.

He shuddered and lowered his forehead to Izuna's, and Mito realized that he must be crying. She'd never seen Madara cry, not even when Haruka died. Not even when Tajima had died in his arms years ago. Gently, he lowered Izuna to the ground and pulled the katana out of him.

"Tobi, what happened?" Hashirama asked.

Madara perked up and whirled around. He wielded the bloody katana that killed Izuna. "You," he snarled, his tear tracks shining on his cheeks. "You did this!"

Tobirama took a step back and felt his hip for a weapon, but Madara held it. Tōka placed herself in between them.

"Madara, please, you don't understand!" she tried to reason with him.

Madara didn't hear her as he focused on Tobirama. "You did this! Murderer!"

Tobirama looked like he might shrivel up at any moment. "It was an accident," he stammered. "I-I didn't know he was blind!"

Madara's eternal Sharingan spun with malevolent chakra as his fury and hatred began to consume him. By now, the fighting that had been going on around them had all but stopped as both Senju and Uchiha looked on at the tragedy unfolding between their leaders. No one dared to interfere as Madara's hatred became almost palpable. Mito's stomach twisted with the urge to retch.

Hashirama put himself between Madara and Tobirama and spread his arms. "Madara, stop!"

"Get out of my way! I'm going to rip him apart!"

"No, you're not! This is over—look around you!"

He did, and he saw the hundreds of eyes, Senju and Uchiha alike, watching on in fear and trepidation. The anger warping his features began to fade as he stared back at them and saw something, something Mito could not name.

"Madara," Hashirama tried again. He lowered his arms and approached carefully. "I know what you're feeling right now, believe me, I do. War's no excuse for losing a brother."

"No, you don't know. The brothers you lost? They were boys you hardly knew. Izuna—" His voice cracked, but he didn't bother hiding his tears. "Izuna is my other half. He is everything. You can't possibly understand!"

Hashirama had nothing to say to that. There was nothing to say.

Madara shuddered, and his tears fell to the ground for all to see. "He was all I had left," he said in a small voice that did not sound like him at all.

"Madara," Hashirama said, his own tears glistening in his dark eyes as he ached for his truest friend, "I'm so sorry."

They held each other's gazes for a few seconds, and they were the longest of Mito's life as she wondered what the hell was going to happen next.

"You're sorry?" Madara said, barely above a whisper.

"I would give anything to undo this, you know I would," Hashirama said.

Madara had composed himself a bit, and his voice was steadier. He held out the bloody katana to Hashirama. "Then... Then kill Tobirama yourself. Then you'll truly understand."

Tōka snarled and pushed Tobirama behind her. The crowd of Senju and Uchiha soldiers that had gathered to watch began to whisper. Hashirama stared at the offered katana in shock.

"You can't be serious," he said.

"I've never been more serious in my life. You want to understand? You want all this to stop? Then kill him. Your brother's life for mine—it's that simple."

"Hashi," Tobirama said, his voice quavering.

Hashirama gritted his teeth and caught Mito's eye over Madara's shoulder, but she had no words for him. What could she or anyone else possibly say to fix this?

"I can't do that, Madara," he said at last. And yet, he reached for the katana, anyway. "But I'll give you my life instead."

"Hashirama, no!" Mito said before she could stop herself.

Madara caught her arm as she tried to get past him and put a stop to this. His grip was painfully strong, and she bit her lip to keep herself from crying out.

"Hashi, stop!" Tobirama shouted, desperate.

But Hashirama raised the katana and aimed its blade at his stomach. "If this is the only way to make our dream come true, then I'm happy to die for it."

"Madara!" Mito shouted as she struggled to free herself.

His grip was iron clad, and if he didn't let go she was going to draw a kunai on him, promises be damned. Madara's pride was not worth Hashirama's death. Hashirama's hand was steady as he lifted the sword and prepared to plunge it into himself.

Mito's vision blurred with unshed tears as panic and hysteria began to take control her of senses. "Madara, stop this!"

Hashirama closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Suddenly, Madara released Mito and grabbed Hashirama's wrist just as he was about to stab himself. The tip of the katana pierced his flesh and he bled, but it was a shallow wound. The tense silence that followed was only broken when Tobirama sank to his knees and cradled his head in his hands, sobbing.

"All right," Madara said, as though someone else were speaking through him, hollow and detached. "Enough. It's over."

Hashirama dropped the katana, and it clattered on the ground in between them. It was all Mito could do not to collapse on the ground as he knees shook with the fear of what had almost just happened.

"It's over," Madara said again. "I'll accept your terms for peace."

She didn't recognize his voice at all, or the empty eyes that had once gazed upon her with nothing short of the most ardent longing and affection. Even as the onlooking soldiers began to chatter and help each other walk, relieved that the battle was finally over, Mito could not share in their relief.

Hikaku and his men were still burning where she'd left them. The bodies, Senju and Uchiha alike, lay in pieces as far as the eye could see. Izuna lay a stone's throw away where the sun was curdling his blood and putrefying his cold flesh. And all Mito could think was that Satto had been right in the end: some people are worth the lives of hundreds.

Whether they like it or not.