Warning: nothing that wasn't on chapter 2. dub-con (but also not), manipulation (but also not), daddy issues, anti-ending.
Please read the end notes.
"Take my hand, I'll be everything to you
Take my hand, I'll take everything from you" (AFI, The Lost Souls)
In Madara's times children were told a story about the origins of their clan.
They used to live in a beautiful fertile land where they had big houses, large fields and many animals. They didn't know war, and their lives were long and happy. Until some of them got bored and restless and decided to test the limits of their innate abilities. They wore their battle armors, left their lands and joined war after war, hired by feudal lords as mercenaries, fighting other mercenaries hired by other feudal lords.
Rejoicing at the news of their victories, their wives, parents and offspring waited and waited the warriors for months, years, decades, but they showed no signs of returning. Thus they decided to leave their safe haven and join them, even if it meant hardships, danger and death.
They preferred to die beside their loved ones instead of living a long life without them.
Nevertheless hoping return all together one day, the elders united their power to create the most powerful genjutsu ever existed and make their territory disappear.
Their seals not being as good as the Uzumaki clan, they used Izanagi to rewrite reality, turning their luxuriant nature into a desert, their animals into skulls and bones shattered on the ground, their lake into a dust-blowing wind that screamed death at every step, for every traveller who didn't know the right hand seals.
The Infinite Tsukuyomi, using the moon as a mirror, would have been even more powerful, had he carried on his plan.
Maybe he will someday, he tells himself at times, but it's nothing more than an afterthought, as expected from an immortal, with godlike powers, who found something more interesting to do.
Madara used to like this story, like every children, especially Izuna, who was once scolded from their father because he asked when they'd return there. Regretfully the elder had explained him that it was just a fairytale. They weren't playing warriors because they were bored, they were fighting for survival.
They were fighting for the supremacy of their clan, but it was better to save this detail for later, with the resolve to build their own world, not search for an old one.
He would have never imagined to find the legendary land, when, already old, he was looking for the right candidate to implant his Rinnegan.
Overwhelmed by nostalgia of his younger brother, weighed by his aged body, his exploration was brief, and only when he returned in his hideout, sitting on the Gedo Mazo, it continued through Zetsu's eyes.
He would have never imagined that he would return there.
He had other plans back then, and no time left.
When he returned with Sasuke everything was vaguely familiar, from the woods and the lake to the animals, the only inhabitants of this land for centuries.
Sasuke had the impression that the animals recognized Madara, even though the elder had been there more than a decade earlier. Then he remembered Juugo's words, who once said that animals were naturally attracted to strong chakra.
Unlike nature, human built structures -houses, a temple with an annexed rudimentary medical office, a training ground, a hot spring, stables- need maintenance, nothing that a Zetsu, modified to use wood style jutsu, can't accomplish.
The two Uchiha settle in what was the clan leader's mansion, a three-story wooden house whose most prominent feature is the big roof with eaves that curve slightly upwards.
Instead of the typical tatami pavement there are smooth wooden planks under their feet, and instead of sliding panels, the many rooms are separated by wooden walls, of a dark brown shade, instead of rice paper, even the doors are made of wood.
The Zetsu who assimilated Kabuto's medical ability settles in the basement, together with the other Zetsu. Other than the one who heals his wounds and another who asks absurd questions about bodily functions, Sasuke can't tell them apart. Only the ones Madara bestowed a stronger power evolve and acquire an individual personality. The others, who come and go without advice, in the house and outside the sealed territory, are just parts of the hive.
They're Madara's eyes and ears. Just like the one who impersonates Sasuke.
In the main room there is an open fireplace, a sunken hearth, with a hook for heating pots hanging above it. A few paintings decorate the upper part of the dark wooden walls, while several drawers, some of which displaying valuable weapons, occupy the lower part.
On the ground there's a fur rug, a huge, dark, hairy thing that Sasuke hates with a passion.
He wanted Madara to get rid of it but the elder argued that throwing it away would be disrespectful towards the sacrificed animal.
Furthermore, Madara likes to see the contrast between Sasuke's pale skin and the dark fur.
He loves to fuck him on it.
After a while, Sasuke doesn't hate that animal skin anymore.
He can clench his fists around the strands of hair when Madara's thrusts are so hard that he loses control of his own body, as if he were just a doll in his hands.
He can hide his face in the dark fur, and with it the shame, because a part of him doesn't dislike that.
As both men haven't lived in a real house for a long time, it takes a while for them to realize that they need basic items; when they do, they start searching for them in the other houses, an activity that soon becomes as habitual as walking under the trees, sparring, grooming the horses, flying the hawks, touching or being touched.
They take home a low table, to comfortably eat and read.
Madara reading old scrolls at the table reminds Sasuke of his father.
Compared to Fugaku's, the elder's appearance is more striking, taller, more muscular, with big wild hair that the boy imagines are what his own hair would look like if grown long.
Even their attitudes are completely different so he doesn't know why whenever the older man is reading by that low table, Sasuke feels that he owes him something.
Madara, who never had children, notices.
He doesn't know how to feel about it. He doesn't know how to treat a son.
He only knows how he wants to treat this twisted version of a son, whose obedience he appreciates very much.
Surprisingly, Sasuke doesn't mind examining mementos of the past, from common objects that explain old habits and customs, to drawings and poetry, that show a side of the Uchiha clan that he and Madara had never witnessed.
They ask themselves how different things would have been if the clan had never left this land: Izuna and Madara's younger brothers would have never died. They would have married, had children, and peacefully died of old age. Itachi would still be alive. Shisui would still be alive, and with him Sasuke's mother and father, and everyone he ever saw at the compound.
Then Madara sighs:
"Or maybe, you and Itachi him wouldn't even be born in the same family. Maybe Izuna and I wouldn't have been brothers either. Maybe some of us wouldn't even be born at all. Maybe we're all born because the clan moved far from here. Maybe we're all born because of war."
They are what they are because of war.
They want peace because war took everything from them.
They discover quirks and aversions by observing what the other chooses or discards.
Like Madara's fondness for pillows, that he collects in great quantity, and places them under the table, on the wooden pavement and more or less everywhere else.
His many little brothers slept on the low pillows where adults used to sit, as they were the most comfortable thing they had, during his war-torn childhood.
Both judge the old clothes they find useful to stay warm in winter, but not practical for shinobi with a fast, dynamic fighting style such as them.
Sasuke hates the itchy fabric that seems to weigh him down; Madara hates the too many buttons that slow him down as he undresses, and especially as he undresses the other.
Sasuke insists on using the same bowl for rice, even if its border is chipped and they find many others. Madara teasingly him Little Tengu whenever they eat, reminding that according to folklore the mythical creatures are obsessively attached to their favourite bowl.
Sasuke's mother used a bowl with similar geometrical patterns to place offerings in their family altar.
Whenever Sasuke doesn't understand an object's purpose he asks Madara.
How old exactly do you think I am, Madara scoffs once, as his era was closer to Sasuke's. Besides, because of the war and the hardships they only had what was strictly necessary, thus he ignores the use of many objects.
He knows that his descendant asks him out of respect and truth in his strength and knowledge though.
He's a youngster asking his mentor. Or his father.
Interestingly, Sasuke's questions help him discover a new ability: just by touching something he can sense its memory, something that he didn't even know existed.
He doesn't use it much anyway, since instantly knowing isn't as satisfying as guessing, inquiring, recalling, for an immortal like him.
Madara never cared about traditions. To him the past was a burden and the present an obstacle. Only the future mattered.
Now that present, past and future are just points on an infinite line, he reconsiders the past -parts of it, some wounds never really heal- as a source of identity, experience and now of commodities; he enjoys the present as an amusing game and he redefines the future, no longer a destination at the end of the line, but just another point amongst many others, that will become present then past, because the infinite line is, in fact, a circle.
A spiral, maybe.
Just like the houses and clothes, the old language too is quite different. Sasuke can barely grasp the general sense, while Madara understands it better, because when he was a child the older generation used to talk in a similar way on the battlefield, or whenever they suspected that someone was spying on them.
Hidden in one of the pillows that Madara brings home, they find a lump, that turns out to be letters stacked together and folded in one small piece.
The two Uchiha spend the night reading them, Madara sitting cross-legged, occasionally smoking from a thin pipe, Sasuke beside him, slightly hunched, resting one elbow on an upright knee, the firelight coming from the fireplace and countless candles dancing around them.
It's a correspondence between secret lovers, that reminds Sasuke of the excerpts from Kakashi's books, that the jounin used to read out loud whenever he trained him and the rest of Team 7.
After his initial sneering Sasuke becomes almost curious.
Maybe it's because Madara's husky voice doesn't emphasize anything, besides pausing from time to time, to find the right translation.
One of Kakashi's favourite novels was written as a correspondence between the main characters.
Sasuke remembers how bored he was when his former sensei declaimed it, while Naruto laughed and Sakura asked questions about it.
Thusly distracted, he had almost felt at peace, even though it didn't last.
He had a goal, he wasn't supposed to waste time on trivialities, he thought.
Even now he has a goal. Even now he must wait.
This time is different though, for Madara promised to bring Itachi back for him.
He promised that he wouldn't be alone.
He didn't say it and Sasuke didn't ask for it, but spending time by the fireplace, reading stupid letters, makes him feel at peace, then guilty, because he still shouldn't waste time on trivialities.
The letters are vague at first, as if the couple was scared of saying too much, then they become more intense, a sign that they were living the love. Some letters mention sex, although in a flowery way, others are prayers, for him, to not leave for the battlefield, for her, to not marry the man her father chose. In the last one the man sarcastically wishes her good luck: she will need it when her husband will find out that she is not pure.
Weak resolve, spite, greed: humanity has always been miserable -Just like his clan, then Konoha, against him- the elder mutters, throwing the papers in the fire.
"What do you think the woman's husband did when he found out?"
He asks, one hand holding the pipe, the other tucked into a dark robe, very similar to a yukata, loosely wrapped on one side, leaving his muscular chest open.
"How would I know?" Sasuke replies, distractedly fumbling with the hem of his pants "Why is it even that important, that purity thing?"
"It's a civilian influenced value, to ensure that a man would only provide to his own offspring and not someone else's. For chakra users, and doujutsu users in particular, it's redundant. It's hypocritical to take only what's convenient, such as defining purity as being untouched by sex, and overlooking killing, a shinobi's duty since an early age. It's pointless, because there's no point in keeping one's purity intact if death might claim any shinobi before a lover does."
Madara's hands draw elaborate gestures in the air as he speaks.
"Nevertheless there is something else in it. Something more. Something beyond a mere question of providing for one's offspring or a faulty appropriation of values. Something more irrational and primal than any practical reason."
He locks eyes with the boy.
"Being the first to take a young, attractive partner is immensely satisfying, because it's seen as marking them forever. Men are drawn towards purity because they want to claim and defile it themselves."
When he breaks eye contact, Sasuke focuses his attention on Madara's long, strong fingers flowing with his voice.
"Consequently, the idea that their loved one had previous experiences is hard to accept for some, because it's like they're already marked. They see them as objects, both whether they are disappointed that their partner is a defective, used item instead of a shiny new one, and whether they put them on a pedestal to preserve their purity. Whether they're admiring them or judging them they're still see them as objects. They see them as objects, if they keep them away from reality to protect them, because they're not sharing anything with them."
Madara blows out a puff of smoke, with a relaxed sigh.
Sasuke's look darkens at Madara's words. He's sure that the elder hinted at Itachi on purpose, and he's also sure that if he reacts there will be consequences.
The last time the elder refused to enter in his lab for days, not allowing Sasuke inside either.
He can't allow this again, he tells himself, tightening a fist around his ankle.
Besides, maybe it's the awareness that achieving his goal is more important than any word, maybe it's the lights and shadows' dancing upon the man's powerful body, but he calms down.
Maybe a part of him has been rewired, somehow, to please the one who promised to bring his brother back, who replaced the teacher who cared about the village more than about him, the mentor who wanted his body and powers only because he was an easy prey, the father who preferred his brother to him.
"What about you?"
He asks.
Does he really care to know? Or is he trying to shake the bad feelings off?
"As irrational as it may be, I'm not immune to the exhilarating sense of power of being the first to take someone..."
Madara's dark tone that says more than his words.
Taking your virginity made me feel stronger, as if I acquired a new power. I took your body for myself, and no matter what will happen in the future -as if I weren't the master of your future- I'll always be your first.
"..to take someone for real, I mean."
More gently than he intended, he touches the spot where Sasuke's curse mark used to be.
His ability to sense inanimate objects' residual memory works also with body parts: the boy's chest Madara remembers the Hachibi vessel's swords almost killing him, his left arm his female comrade getting too close. His throat his brother threateningly looming over him, his forehead the same brother smiling lovingly at him.
The former curse mark area remembers a man with greyish skin, an effeminate voice and an abnormal tongue.
Even if there is no trace of it, for a moment Sasuke feels his skin throbbing, like a phantom limb, and a reminder that Itachi used his very last moments of life to free him, from the curse mark and everything it meant.
He wonders what Itachi would think of him if he knew what Orochimaru had wanted from him.
He wonders if Itachi would be less disappointed knowing that it only happened once.
The sannin preferred to watch as he touched himself. As if he could ever do such thing, without being injected him something that would make his skin feel sensitive and feverish, craving for release, no matter who was watching him.
"Have you ever done this before?"
Madara asked him once, laying down on the ground naked, like the boy who had just pleasured him with his mouth, his lower lip still bearing a pearly trace of the elder's release, and a glare that promised no answers.
The older Uchiha stroked the juncture between his neck and shoulders, activating his power. He saw Orochimaru's sinister figure too close to a very young Sasuke, commanding to move his hands faster.
"Not this particular practice.."
Madara felt relieved, because that monster didn't get more than that -he decided to ignore the injections whose prickling sensations and whose consequences he sensed very well, just like he sensed the snake's eyes- which meant that Sasuke's body was completely his.
And because Sasuke never looked at him with anger and disgust, as he did to his old mentor.
"...And not willingly.."
The boy kept glaring, not ashamed but determined.
The older Uchiha knew that look well. His era was a tough one.
"I understand. You had no other choice."
Still no reply.
"You had no choice and a goal to achieve...killing your brother."
Sometimes Madara tested Sasuke's limits. It was only fair, mentors used to do it all the time.
"The brother who lied to you and left you alone..."
Although he already knew that the boy had only one.
"Don't talk about my brother this way! He saved my life!"
Sasuke hissed, sharingan spinning wildly, as he sprang forward and straddled Madara, clenching his hands around his throat.
The elder was pleased by the boy's fast reaction. So much that he got hard again. So much that he couldn't help but grind against the lithe body.
"Very good...You got better at taking me by surprise."
Madara said, voice strained under Sasuke's grip.
"I knew it since I first sensed your chakra in the distance, that you were worthy of my interest..."
He added. Sasuke smirked unwillingly, but that expression only lasted until Madara flipped their positions.
"But you still have a lot to learn, boy…"
The elder smirked too.
"And I have a lot to teach you..."
The man's hard cock brushed the boy's hole. Disrespect wasn't tolerated by any mentor.
"If you behave respectfully, that is."
He entered in one swift thrust. It was his turn to take the other's breath away.
Sasuke inhales deeply.
"No matter how strong we are, there always comes a time, boy," Madara says, sensing his discomfort, "that we must submit. Be it for survival, for love, for achieving a goal or to submit to a stronger one..."
"Did you..?"
Sasuke mutters, shaking off Orochimaru's memory.
"Like I said, everyone submits. They don't have a choice, when they're young and there's a war raging on. But it's a strong push to make them stronger."
Madara's expression mirrors Sasuke's. Determined, not ashamed.
"And then, when I became the strongest in my clan, I submitted to the one I respected and admired, the god of all shinobi."
Thinking about it, Hashirama left him no choice either, when, years later, he chose the village over him.
Madara likes to hear about Itachi, although he prefers to hear Sasuke talking about him.
Sasuke's eyes brighten when he talks about Itachi, in a way that is endearing and frustrating at the same time. Madara is amused to acknowledge his slight jealousy, another primal human reaction, unbecoming for an immortal god.
Thus he often asks about Itachi's ideals, his shinobi life, his relationships.
Never forgetting to mention how perfect his brother was, the boy readily obliges, describing everything he remembers.
And when he thinks it's not enough he accesses Itachi's memories, passed on to him before he left. Madara defined Itachi an astounding shinobi. He recognized his genius, that allowed him to find Obito, use his grudge to carry on his mission and keep an eye on him until his death, preventing him from destroying the village and approaching his brother. He applauded his love for Sasuke, stronger than the love for his family, the village and himself.
Yet he frowned on how he left Sasuke behind, lying to him for years, focusing his hate against himself instead of the real enemies. He objected how instead of telling his brother the truth and treating him with the respect and dignity he deserved, took away from him the chance to fight back and have a proper revenge. He disapproved how he put the boy on a pedestal so not to taint him, not realizing that he was putting him under glass, as if he were too weak to handle reality.
From an older brother perspective he understood Itachi. He wanted Sasuke to be safe, exactly what he had felt towards Izuna.
Many times he had tried to keep Izuna away from the battlefield, especially when their father died and he became the clan leader, but his brother didn't take it well. In fact, he angrily confronted him, accusing him of belittling his strength, of not trusting him, of not considering him worthy to be his comrade in arms. He, instead, considered a privilege to be his younger brother and an honour to fight beside him.
Thus Madara understood. Although with sadness, he acknowledged that Izuna was a capable shinobi like him. He could protect him on the battlefield but he couldn't force him out of it.
Nevertheless when Izuna was fatally wounded he had regretted to have listened to his him, instead of keeping him safe, away from any fight.
Living with Sasuke, whom Itachi had kept away from any conflict, opened Madara's mind on a different perspective. The boy was sad and lost without the brother who defined his very sense of self. He would have certainly preferred to stay with Itachi no matter where, matter under which flag or against which enemies.
The setting sun colors everything with its orange-red shades, even the green of the grass and trees in the training ground, even the skin of the two Uchiha.
As usual Madara hasn't held back: his last kick probably caused some internal damage, he muses,his arms crossed over his bare chest, mesmerized by the lithe body doubling over, blood spilling between his fingers, locked to his lips.
With an apologetic look he stretches out a hand to help the boy get up on his feet.
There is neither pity nor mockery in his gesture. He admires his pain tolerance -in fact he's addicted to it.
Favouring his injured side, Sasuke accepts his help with no resentment.
After Zetsu heals his wound Madara applies salve on his battered body.
He should be more delicate but certain things are addictive. like seeing his eyes squint as he bites his lip and tightens his fist, hearing him hiss under his breath, feeling him flinch under his strong hands.
Yet he doesn't want to hurt him too much.
He does care about his descendant, whom has become his pupil, the closest he has to a son, a pet, and almost, maybe, a lover.
Even if he is an immortal god, even if he can do anything, even if he can have anything and anyone, sometimes he feels that the boy, who is already there, beside him, with his desperation and anger, with his curiosity and independent thinking, with his purity and admiration, is everything he has, and everything he cares about.
"Tell me more about your brother."
He asks once the boy's breathing has evened out. At first puzzled by the vagueness of the question, Sasuke discloses random childhood episodes, how Itachi got him into collecting cat paws' prints, how he cooked too much food once when their parents went on a trip, how he carried him on his back after he sprained his ankle.
"He didn't want you to be in more pain. Sprained ankles take longer to recover if they get swollen," Madara intervenes, "I did the same for Izuna who sprained his ankle when we were hunting. It was getting dark, I couldn't leave him there. I carried him on my back all the way to the camp. Needless to say our hunt was fruitless and our father punished me when we returned. We really needed food."
That time, Madara knew his father was right in punishing him, as he was thinking about the good of the clan. Yet he knew that he was right as well, as he was protecting his brother. Thus he let the man take out his frustration on him, his resolve to keep Izuna safe unwavering.
It's the first time for both, sharing personal, precious episodes that have no informational value.
No one ever asked them anyway.
It feels strange somehow, but also good. Like a summer rain that washes away the muggy weather.
That's why it becomes a habit.
No matter in what activities they engage they're family, after all.
The pain that Madara felt when Izuna died was so strong and dark that to breathe and walk and fight again he had to focus on a goal, protecting the clan first, then achieving peace and building the Leaf village with Hashirama. Later he tried not to think about his brother, who distrusted the Senju clan, while he had signed a peace treaty with them instead of avenging him.
"Izuna was right"
The elder almost growls.
"I shouldn't have trusted Hashirama. I should have protected him. Instead, he gave me his eyes and saved me from blindness."
Sasuke's reply strikes him.
"Maybe he was glad to die if it meant giving you more power. Maybe he was happy knowing that his eyes would save you from blindness...I would die happily if by my death I could save Itachi's life." The boy admits candidly. Then, in a lower, darker tone, he adds:
"Instead, he sacrificed for my sake, even if he was smarter and stronger..."
Sasuke doesn't have to say it out loud. Madara clearly understands what he means.
"Even if he deserved to live more than I do."
He doesn't think he deserves to live, not only because he is the only survivor of the massacre, or because a part of him hasn't forgotten the words of contempt that Itachi was forced to tell him, but also because while Uchiha first sons were always favoured by their families, the others were often seen as disposable spares, for the time when Mangekyou Sharingan would take its toll.
Just like Madara's father preferred him to Izuna and the others, so did Fugaku prefer Itachi, and Sasuke always knew it, or he wouldn't feel guilty for being alive.
The elder Uchiha is glad that Itachi defied tradition and sacrificed for his little brother.
Despite being the firstborn, a prodigy in his generation, the strongest of the clan, an idealist who dreamed of peace and at the same time a shrewd strategist who wasn't afraid of dirtying his hands, he feels a stronger affinity for Sasuke, so similar to him yet so different, as he was a second son unlike him.
He definitely feels a stronger affinity with the boy who was stripped away from his roots, who listens to his stories with wide open eyes and a smart, inquisitive mind, who isn't afraid to ask for help or lose control.
"It's a heavy load, living a life that belonged to a precious one..."
Sasuke nods at Madara's statement.
After the massacre he wished that Itachi had killed him with everyone else.
After he was told the truth he wished that he had died during the final fight.
Death seemed the only peace he could have, for his sleep was plagued by nightmares.
The boy's onyx black eyes are unfocused, lost in his painful past.
Madara feels the urge to bring him back to the present moment, grabbing the broken boy's chin and kissing him hard.
Sasuke has mixed feelings about sex.
He's sure that he could live without it, just like he did until not so long ago -he can't seem to remember how long, exactly.
It hurts. Sometimes a lot, sometimes less, sometimes the pain becomes something else entirely.
Sometimes the pain remains and pleasure is but a part of it.
It's overwhelming. Like the strongest genjutsu, there's no way to ignore it, or counter it, as it envelopes his mind in a feverish haze and forces the body to move and open and give in.
It's distracting. At times Madara rewards him for his hard work -it doesn't matter if it's helping him out with something or pleasuring him- and when he runs his fingers through his hair and says the very words his father used to praise Itachi, and for once even him, Sasuke almost forgets reality.
So when Madara grabs his chin and kisses him, Sasuke lets him.
He lets Madara's tongue invade his mouth. He lets Madara's hands roam over his chest then push him down, one clawing at his wrist, holding it up above his head, the other going down to stroke him. He lets Madara's thigh part his legs and rest his weight on top of him.
He lets Madara manoeuvre him not only because he's used, by now, to the elder doing what he wants with his body, not only because it's the price to pay to have his brother back, but also because he's starved for contact.
Just like Madara.
"What if Itachi doesn't want to return?"
Madara murmurs almost absently, as they're walking by luxuriant fields of spontaneously growing tomatoes, eggplants, corn and more. In winter there will be potatoes and cabbages -Sasuke's face brightened for an instant, thinking about Itachi's favourite food- as well, Zetsu said after having examined the underground.
In the distance crows are cawing.
"...After all, he already sacrificed his whole life for you..."
As if Sasuke could ever forget it.
"What if Izuna doesn't want to return?"
Sasuke promptly retorts, refusing to remember how hasty to leave the world Itachi was.
His brother wanted to rest, after all the pain he went through. After having sacrificed his whole life for him.
Maybe the first expression he'll see on his beloved brother will be anger.
Will his heart be able to bear it?
"It it quite likely to happen."
Madara replies, almost casually.
"They might not want to return to the world of the living. Have you thought about that?"
Itachi said that a jutsu that forces the dead back to life is cruel for both the deceased, whose soul is ripped from where it belongs, and their relatives, forced to relive sad memories.
He also said that he had no more regrets, as he had protected the village once again.
He had purposely ignored that Sasuke was still alive, still longing for him, even moreso after having fought side by side with him, so that he would choose the living and not the dead ones.
"This is not the world they left. This...is different."
Sasuke mutters, more to himself than to Madara.
He's right. This is different indeed, the elder thinks to himself.
"What will you do when you'll have Itachi back?"
He asks abruptly. Just as abruptly, relieved to have something bright to focus on, Sasuke replies that he'll show him the beautiful surroundings. The moonlight reflecting on the lake. The crows' nests. The horses. These fields. That they might move to a smaller cabin by the woods once that Madara will have revived Izuna, as maybe the two brothers might want to bring back the other siblings.
Maybe more relatives. Who knows, maybe he could even want to revive Sasuke's parents, Madara once said, adding that the future was open to every possibility.
When he asks the elder the same question, Madara replies:
"I'll ask him forgiveness. For having failed to protect him. For having trusted the Senju clan instead of him. For having brought him back..."
In the back of the temple there is a rudimentary medical office that Madara transformed in his laboratory.
On one side of the room there are shelves full of test tubes, yellowed glass recipients and various instruments.
They're certainly old, the elder admits, but even though they could have Zetsu get newer ones outside, he can do without them. After all he managed to cultivate Hashirama's cells and create Zetsu in an underground cave.
Neither Madara nor Sasuke feel like going outside. That world has nothing in store for them.
It's fitting somehow, to have a temple and a medical office in the same place. Even moreso because what Madara is doing is a combination of science, supernatural and faith: Edo Tensei being an imperfect jutsu and Itachi's corpse being too corrupted for Rinne Tensei, he must recreate Itachi's body using Sasuke's and Hashirama's cells, infusing them with his chakra, whose characteristics and powers are beyond the strongest shinobi's.
Sasuke's faith in him is necessary too, Madara tells the boy whenever he senses his patience growing thinner, even though the young Uchiha is rational and he knows that he can't go against him. Especially not after he has been laying on the operation table for having his cells extracted from his eyes, as usual. When it's over he's never in the mood for strongly objecting anything, the pain in his head is too persistent that he's barely able to stand up straight for a while.
On the opposite side of the room, the Gedo Mazo statue occupies the whole wall, its wooden ramifications, like tubes, reaching the temple, where there is a tall glass tank filled with a murky liquid, a mixture of nutrients and chakra accelerators.
"Itachi's cells cultivated with Hashirama's, are growing perfectly."
Madara states.
"It's better this way," he continues, well aware of Sasuke's disappointment for not being able to see anything through the liquid, "You want your brother, not a bunch of organs connected by veins, supported by bones and muscles. Your brother is more than the sum of his parts. You shall see him when the right time comes: the more transparent the liquid will become, the closer to completion Itachi's body will be."
Itachi's body, growing from single organs to full completion, is there: Sasuke thought that he would feel something, a hunch, like he felt when he followed the crows, that rainy day in the forest, not knowing what he was about to find and how it would change his life forever, yet running nevertheless.
Instead, he feels nothing, beside his own constant longing to see him again.
He feels nothing coming from that tank.
He feels nothing coming from his brother.
He feels nothing because he's not there.
He feels nothing because in that tank there are a bunch of random organs that look nowhere close to his brother.
"Do you need to take more cells from my eyes? Whatever you need...take it."
Sasuke says, his voice almost a plead. Madara puts a hand on his shoulder, like a mentor, like a father would.
"Sasuke. You have to wait. What I need...what your brother needs, is more time."
"How much time are you talking about?"
The boy interrupts him, heading towards the coat rack to grab his shirt.
Madara likes his feisty attitude. He knows how to calm him, the hard way or the easy way.
He also knows which one to use on every occasion.
Like a good mentor. Like a good father. Like a good master.
The elder disappears for an instant, only to reappear behind Sasuke.
"You should have understood it by now. Time has no longer meaning…"
Grabbing a fistful of his hair, he yanks his head back, exposing his throat.
"Besides…"
With the other hand he grips his wrist and pulls him closer, throwing him slightly off balance. His muscular chest blocking his fall, Madara guides him backwards, only stopping when his back reaches the operation table.
His lips brush the boy's ear, his warm breath makes him tingle.
"You should have understood that I do appreciate a fast pace for certain matters..."
He gets on the table, pulling Sasuke up on his lap.
"...But there are other matters that can't be done quickly."
He lies down, not bothering to suppress a shiver as his skin touches the cold metal, dragging Sasuke with him. The boy resists a little, not knowing what to expect.
Just the way Madara likes it.
"Like what's happening in that tank. Like you..."
Madara intertwines his legs with Sasuke's to spread them open.
"You can slow down now."
He lets go of the younger's arm. His hands roam over the taut body, one pinching his nipple, the other gripping his hip and pushing it down against his crotch, as he starts grinding.
"No one is chasing after you."
He unfastens the boy's pants and frees his cock. Sasuke's breath becomes hitched. "I will keep my promise and bring him back to you."
Madara strokes it slowly, painfully so. The boy keeps his hands pressed against his forehead and bites his lip.
"But I want you to stop being anxious about him and listen to me."
His teeth graze over Sasuke's neck.
"I want you to focus on yourself for once."
He bites the pale neck hard, and tightens the hold on his cock while moving in a steadier rhythm. Sasuke lets out a strangled cry, of pain or pleasure, or both.
"Because you, Uchiha Sasuke, you exist."
Madara pumps the boy faster, his hips grinding against his ass, his other hand stroking and scratching his stomach and chest and sides.
"Stop feeling guilty for being alive, boy."
The younger comes between loud uncontrolled moans; Madara moves from beneath Sasuke, taking in the pale body breathing heavily, his unfocused gaze and pearly streams over his stomach. He takes off his pants and climbs up on the table again.
"Stop reasoning in simple human terms."
He ravages the boy inside and outside, fucking him hard, biting and sucking and licking like a beast to a prey.
"We're above them, now."
He says before climaxing, his eyes closed, letting out a feral growl, a few more thrust to ride out his orgasm.
Madara defeated death and achieved immortality. He's closer to a god than a simple human indeed.
Sasuke doesn't feel human, yet he doesn't feel something else either. He doesn't feel anything, when it comes to himself.
He identified as the Uchiha clan leader's son. The genius' little brother, with a long way to go before reaching him. The only survivor of the Uchiha clan. An avenger, against his brother, than against the real enemies, to be sacrificed to cleanse the name of the brother he devoted his life to.
He was identified as a younger brother, and a life to protect at all costs. A prodigy. A pupil. A comrade. The possessor of the precious sharingan. A rogue nin. An enemy. An asset.
What Madara meant is that he can't be just these things, there must be something about him that isn't inherent to his love for Itachi, but Sasuke can't find anything else inside him.
The Uchiha secret territory is above human terms as well. What was once a land obeying to the same laws as every other place on Earth, once sealed by the elders and hidden with their Izanagi, it turned into a legendary self-sufficient paradise, hidden from humans' eyes, where plants grow spontaneously, animals roam free, and time flows differently.
Time has no longer meaning; Madara said it.
The first thing Madara noticed when he set foot in this land was that despite the different architecture, and some materials that were disused in his present days, despite the houses and the temple and everything else were abandoned, they didn't seem to have been abandoned centuries before.
At first Sasuke thinks it's a wrong impression -like the animals recognizing Madara- when the Zetsu who replaced him arrives from outside.
It's a surreal experience, to sit at the low table in front of himself.
It's not exactly your clone, Madara points out, but a Zetsu, with a copy of my Rinnegan, even though outside, he is Uchiha Sasuke.
He stares at his missing arm, wondering if he would have lost his arm too, had he fought that war.
He would give up to more than a limb for Itachi. He would give his own life for him, and he would die with a smile on his lips.
Would he sacrifice for Madara instead? Would he give more than his body to him?
Isn't he giving him more than his body already?
All Zetsu are Madara's eyes, ears and hands, they leave the sealed territory and roam the world, moving underground, absorbing information and passing them on to the others to whom they're in constant telepathic communication.
This Zetsu has been cut off from their network in order to be a more realistic human, but that communication is vital for his well-being, as the other Zetsu are parts of him and he is the other Zetsu as well. Thus he needs to stay away from Konoha as long as he can, to be a part of their network again. Especially after having been in jail.
He might have died in that cell, Zetsu-Sasuke admits, adding that he's going to stay away from that damn village for as long as he can, if Madara-sama allows him.
The elder Uchiha nods. He can do whatever he likes, as long as he keeps being Sasuke.
The second time Zetsu returns he is still identical to the real Sasuke, but at the same time he is different from him. He looks older.
Sasuke assumes that it's a result of living outside, surrounded by spineless cowards and selfish hypocrites who support a faulty oppressive system, but adding up Zetsu's older appearance, the lesser decay sustained by the inside structures and the animals recognizing Madara, Sasuke understands what Madara meant.
Inside the Uchiha sealed territory, time flows at a slower pace.
To him the encounter with Madara happened months ago, but outside it's been years.
Since then the shinobi world has lived in peace and prosperity, their system no longer questioned or threatened by enemies -Sasuke being one of them.
No one noticed that Sasuke is a Zetsu, even if he gave up to his very reason to exist, even if he stopped fighting to avenge his brother, even if he stopped demanding justice.
They assume that it's because he believes in Naruto.
No one objects that the blond hasn't done anything for him. They never object their leaders, effective or soon to be.
It boosts their egos to know that the rebellious prodigy who defied all authorities and chose a path of darkness, was tamed, that now he is in a lower position compared to Naruto, who defeated and convinced him to come back, and Kakashi, the new Hokage, who imprisoned him then let him out, on a journey of atonement for his sins.
They don't realize that Sasuke was docile only because he couldn't wait to be one with the elements again, and communicate with his two-legged modified plant siblings.
Madara laughs bitterly at his old plan, using infinite Tsukuyomi on those unworthy, dense people who dare call themselves shinobi, when he achieved peace through the illusion of change.
People are afraid of change after all.
Only those who went through hell want to modify things, everyone else is content with what they have.
Instead, everyone loves little novelties and shiny objects, so small novelties and shiny objects they got.
Technology, tall buildings, different foods. A new, obedient Sasuke.
It doesn't matter if he's not the real one.
They don't even know the real one -his dreams, his soul, his resolve- for he never fought beside them.
The real one followed their enemy, who promised to bring Itachi back, and learned more about their world from him, than from any of them.
The real one willingly gave his cells to create a new vessel for Itachi, and his body to Madara, complying to his wishes like pupils did to mentors in the past.
The real one doesn't dislike what they do but he feels guilty every time he enjoys something, because he hates the fact that he's alive because of his beloved brother's sacrifice.
The real one can't wait to meet Itachi again but is afraid that he'll be angry when he'll return.
The real one doesn't know that Itachi's soul has already come back.
The real one doesn't know that Itachi's soul is lingering to the organs and tendons and veins growing day by day.
The real one doesn't know that Itachi's soul sees everything.
The real one doesn't know that Madara knows.
A/N: If this fanfiction were a tv series this chapter would be a season ending.
When I first envisioned and planned out this story, I planned beyond these current 3 chapters, but as I was writing them, more scenes, dialogues,snippets of Madara and Sasuke's new life came to my mind and I enjoyed what I saw so much, that I decided to keep the focus on it, instead of moving on.
Maybe I'm weird but I really enjoy, in a story or any kind of show, when the characters reach a sort of balance, and no new events happen, so there is time to expand their relationship. This balance doesn't last long, because a plot needs events to proceed, so when I really enjoy something I often stop watching/reading more of it for a while, and enjoy what is there, until I'm ready to read/watch more. This is what happened in this fic, somehow. I am enjoying so much imagining and describing Sasuke and Madara's bittersweet dialogues, their peculiar "routine" and their strange relationship, that I decided to focus on them and leave what will shake their balance for "season 2", whenever I'll be ready.
Sasuke and Madara are the last Uchiha, living in a sealed territory, independent thinkers rejected by the shinobi system, souls who loved too much, too strongly. In this story their bond is supposed to be a dark, twisted one, certainly not replacing the love Sasuke feels for Itachi and Madara feels for Izuna. Yet what they have, what they reach, is not just a mutual benefit-sort of accord, and even their personal motives, just like their personalities, aren't black or white, instead they melt and mix and create different shades.
Madara has become an all-powerful immortal god, he's having fun living with his descendant, manipulating him, observing him, having sex with him are interesting pasttimes, but he also cares about Sasuke, he's moved by his devotion and he's sorry about the neglect and pain he suffered so he tries, in his own way, to give him the affection and care that he needs and that neither Fugaku nor Kakashi gave him. (he even criticizes Itachi..needless to say, Madara's opinions are not mine)
Sasuke is a pure soul whose goals have always been connected to Itachi, and so is in this story, where he submitted to Orochimaru first, and now to Madara, to obtain what he wants, which is always Itachi. He submits to Madara for his goal, but he also admires the elder Uchiha and he respects him, unlike Orochimaru. Just like during Team 7 days, when he was almost living a normal life, before succumbing to guilt and haste to get his revenge, Sasuke feels at ease with Madara, but then he's torn by guilt and haste because he's living almost too well.
He's also mentally unstable, because of all the pain he suffered, and I imagine Sasuke as a masochist with a high pain tolerance, so Madara alternating sadism and care go well with the younger's passive attitude. Which, before someone objects, is not a negative trait. It's vulnerability and flexibility, and a habit to obey to his elders and superiors, as expected from a second Uchiha son who would have lived in Itachi's shadow. Also, yin and yang, passive is receptive, moon, cold, you know that sort of things.
Both Sasuke and Madara are private and silent, but they're also blunt and honest, so I think that they would express feelings and talk about their memories, in the right context, unlike Itachi who's more mysterious and private.
I once watched an anime called Tactics, about a young man who can see ghosts and spirits in Japanese folklore, and a Tengu he tames. This Tengu has a favourite bowl, a chipped gross thing that he loves very much. I was inspired by this for Sasuke's bowl.
And then there are the smutty parts...well. I hope you enjoy them. This pairing has a lot of potential in my opinion so..
About the Uchiha sealed territory:
I don't like writing or reading too long descriptions, anyway since the Uchiha houses are traditional Japanese, I looked at ancient Chinese or Thai wooden houses instead, to give the impression of their ancestors coming from another place, yet not too far. And I added a Japanese fireplace and a fur rug because I don't care about consistency, the Naruto world isn't realistic anyway.
As for time flowing differently, I was inspired by the Japanese folktale of Urashima Taro, where a fisherman saves a turtle and is rewarded with a trip to a wonderful world under the sea. the trip lasts only 3 days but when he returns to surface he finds out that 300 years have passed instead. I have always been fascinated by stories where time is subverted or twisted (also like the movies Interstellar, or Cloud Atlas). I thought it was a fitting addition to the Uchiha sealed land, so while Sasuke and Madara live their own lives, outside, canon events happen.
Needless to say I hate canon ending and everything after that, so Zetsu-Sasuke seems a good compromise.
As for the final cliffhanger...well. What can I say? Stay tuned for season 2!
