Izuna was teetering on the edge, barely awake. His eyes were half-lidded and sweat ran down his face, his dark hair sticking to his forehead. His skin was pale and clammy, the smell of death and blood smothering in his dimly lit bedroom.
Madara and Asami hadn't moved from his side, both still wearing their blood-covered clothes from battle, Madara's battle armor discarded by the door to the bedroom.
Madara sat tense, his hands encasing Asami's as they both sat silently, watching as Momoko fought to sustain Izuna's fading breaths. Madara's face was pinched, lines of anguish and exhaustion etched into his face, dried tear tracks lining his cheeks as he refused to look away from Izuna.
Anxiety gnawed at him, fearing that a single moment of distraction could bring Izuna's final breath. Death wouldn't hesitate to tear his baby brother away if Madara let his guard down for even a moment.
Asami stared at Izuna's deathly pale frame, stone-faced. Her eyes were red and swollen, shoulders stiff.
There wasn't an intelligible thought going through her head. Grief and worry consumed her. She was at a loss for what to do. She wanted to comfort Madara. She wanted to be there for him in this time of need, but Asami wasn't in the right of mind to give comfort.
She was afraid of losing Izuna too—she was terrified of losing him, someone she considered a brother.
But this thought only brought guilt to the pit of her stomach.
Asami considered Izuna her brother, someone she loved and looked up to with adoration. Izuna, her older cousin who she would affectionately refer to as 'Nii-chan' as a child. Izuna, who would chase her through the Uchiha forest, tease and tickle her, and indulge her childish antics as a little girl even if he had returned from a battle that morning. Someone who grew up to be a rock she could lean on and confide in.
Even so, with all these fond memories, there was guilt in knowing Izuna wasn't actually her brother. Madara was Izuna's brother, he deserved to feel the pain and anguish of losing a sibling. Out of everyone, Madara deserved to mourn Izuna.
Did she really have the same right to do so? To wallow in her grief?
She wasn't sure.
Finally noticing Izuna's half-lidded gaze, Madara gasped and leaned over with the ghost of a hopeful expression at seeing him awake. "Izuna?"
Izuna's eyes were glossed over, his gaze shifting over to Madara at the sound of his name. From Izuna's expression, it seemed he was barely still in the world of the living. But Madara made a hopeful sound at Izuna's attentive gaze, his younger brother lucid enough to know who was speaking to him.
"Madara…" Izuna spoke barely above a whisper. He winced, face tightening in pain and discomfort.
Momoko made an expression of displeasure. She paused the crunching of her herbs, looking down at Izuna. "Do not strain yourself. You are weak enough, Izuna-sama. Please do not put your body through anything strenuous. If you are to get better, you need to conserve all your energy."
Asami retracted her hand from Madara's, instead resting her hands on her lap. She shifted beside Madara with her chest tight.
Izuna emitted a sound resembling a scoff as he pushed himself up onto his elbow. The scoff spiraled into a coughing fit, Izuna wheezing as he fought to regain his breath.
Momoko leaned forward to tend to him, but Izuna shot her a sharp look before she could even lay a hand on him. Despite his physical weakness, he maintained his pride by keeping his chin up and defiantly locking eyes with her.
"Don't fool yourself, Momoko. I know, and you know, that I'm not going to live to see the next few days. Don't waste any effort on me now." He winced, shuffling as though he was trying to push the thin sheet off.
Momoko didn't like his reaction, her face tightening. She thought he was being unbelievably stubborn, but she had no right to object to Izuna's wishes.
It was difficult for Asami to take full breaths, the reality of Izuna's poor health dawning on her. It was sickening. She wasn't sure what to do or make of any of this. She couldn't concentrate. Izuna's expression in response to Momoko's concern only upset her more—he had no hope he would make it out alive.
"Izuna, what are you talking about?!" Madara's voice sounded tight, alarmed at Izuna's sudden movement. He held his hands out in front of him, bewildered, observing Izuna's struggle to remove the bedding. He shook his head, scanning Izuna's body from top to bottom, his gaze fixating on the crimson stain from his injury, which had started to seep through the fabric.
"Help me sit up." Izuna gave Madara a sharp look.
Asami looked between Madara and Izuna, her lips parting and at a loss for words.
She couldn't say she was surprised by Izuna's stubbornness—even when he was knocking on death's door, things would be done the way he wanted.
But for Izuna to state his death so factually, as if he had already sealed his fate and knew what was to come, made the sinking feeling in Asami's stomach so much worse. She couldn't believe he was giving up so soon.
She knew… and Madara knew… that the Uchiha were not proficient enough in healing to help Izuna in his condition. She had accepted that Izuna would succumb to his injuries, but for him to say it out loud so easily… it made her sick.
"You are not sitting up in your condition." Madara snapped, in disbelief that the thought had crossed Izuna's mind.
Izuna grit his teeth and shoved at the sheet, successfully pushing it halfway down his body, only for it to catch on the bandages from his wound. He clenched his jaw and continued to pull on the sheet, his hand trembling, voice raspy and desperate.
"Who are you to tell me, Nii-chan, what I will… or will not be doing…" He took a deep breath, exasperated by his movements, "in my last moments alive?"
Madara turned a few shades paler, hands falling to his lap at Izuna's sharp words.
Izuna had accepted his fate. It made Asami want to throw up.
He was too confident in his own death. Asami expected this from him, she really did, but she couldn't bear hearing him be so open about his grim fate. Her heart tightened, and she felt a lump forming in her throat as she tried to hold back tears.
She wanted to give Madara, and honestly, herself as well, comforting words about Izuna's impending death, to find some glimmer of hope or a way to avoid the inevitable. But deep down, she knew it was futile, and that thought weighed heavily on her.
Izuna gripped the sheet and threw it off the upper half of his body. He pushed himself up higher on his elbows with a grimace, a bead of sweat running down the side of his face and further matting his hair to his skin. He heaved, before turning to look at his brother expectantly.
Madara stared at Izuna in disbelief. Asami looked between the both of them, her stomach churning. A beat of silence passed, Izuna's intense gaze not falling, his breaths becoming more shallow and shakier by the minute.
Finally, having lost the mental battle, Madara leaned forward, sliding his hand behind Izuna's back and supporting him as Izuna sat up. Momoko moved to grab his pillow, placing it between Izuna and the wall.
Just the act of sitting up was exhausting to Izuna's weekend body. He was a few shades paler and more sweat ran down his face. His eyes were bloodshot, dark circles under his sunken eyes.
Izuna took a moment to compose himself now that he was sitting up. He swallowed, eyes unfocused as he attempted to get himself together.
Madara stared at his brother, face pinched.
He looked as though he expected Izuna to keel over any second now, and Asami didn't blame him. He looked horrible, and Izuna's insistence that he wouldn't last long was not reassuring.
Asami was trying to remain present—to be there as support for her older cousin, but the pressure was beginning to be too much to bear. Her hands trembled as she tried to wipe away the tears that had begun to fall, yet more continued to, blurring her vision.
The atmosphere in the room felt suffocating. It was as if the walls were closing in on her. Asami struggled to take deep breaths, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on her chest.
She wanted to be strong, to provide comfort to Madara, but she felt powerless in the face of death.
Izuna looked at Madara, his older brother attentive to hear what he had to say. Izuna had a sense of determination about him even in his sickly state. He was going to say what needed to be said, and death would wait for him.
"Listen to me. What we've been researching about the Sharingan—" He slapped a hand to his mouth, covering his face as he coughed, his features scrunching as he fought to regain his composure.
Taking in a staggering breath, he slowly peeled his hand back, revealing a palm covered in crimson. Izuna turned a shade paler at the sight, clearly disturbed.
Momoko leaned over and wiped his hand off with a cloth, her face sour as she cleaned the sticky substance. Izuna stared dumbfounded at what he had coughed up. With a shaky breath, he tried to gather himself and returned his attention to Madara, attempting to act like nothing had happened.
Madara grimaced.
"What we've been researching about the Sharingan, the eternal Mangekyō… we have to do it," Izuna stared at Madara with intensity. "If it's true, if it's a cure, then we have to do it."
Madara shook his head. His objection was immediate. "No, Izuna, I can't do that. We don't even know if it's true! You can't ask something like that of me—,"
"Listen!" Izuna cried, before falling into another hysterical coughing fit.
Momoko leaned forward to help him again, but Izuna waved her off, regaining his breathing on his own.
He raised his head, chest rising with shaky breaths, eyes sunken in and a bead of sweat running down his face. "I'm going to die, my eyes are going to be useless. They won't do anyone any good buried in the ground with my rotting corpse. You need to take them. You need to protect the clan."
Izuna heaved, his gaze drifting to Asami, her heart sinking as soon as they locked eyes. His gaze lingered on the dried tear tracks on her cheeks, before drifting to her lips that were pressed into a tight frown.
"You need to protect Asami," Finished Izuna, returning his gaze to Madara expectantly as he waited for his older brother's response.
The discussion of their eyes helped bring Asami back to the moment, confusion filling her as she looked between her cousins. For Izuna to propose that Madara takes his eyes… she didn't even know what to make of that. Where was this coming from? The thought was horrifying.
Her cousins had been researching something about the Sharingan without her knowledge, but what would they need to cure? They hadn't mentioned anything was wrong, so why was she only learning about this on Izuna's deathbed? The thought was deeply upsetting.
Why were her cousins so insistent on keeping things from her, especially if it was dire enough for them to feel the need to research a cure?
Asami looked to Madara, refusing to be kept out of the loop any longer. "A cure? What are you two talking about?"
She looked to Izuna, a feeling of betrayal bubbling in her chest. "Have you been sick…?"
Madara made a gruff noise, but Izuna answered before he could, meeting Asami's eyes. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you before, there was never a right moment, and we weren't even sure if the Mangekyō was the cause of it, but now I'm certain it has to be."
Izuna made an expression of discomfort before continuing. "Madara and I have been going blind."
Asami's breath hitched, her eyes going wide. She looked between Madara and Izuna, unable to hold in her gasp. "Blind?!"
The thought was horrifying. Both of them were going blind and they didn't think to say anything to her about it. It wasn't something to brush under the rug. Both of her cousins were going blind, and they kept it from her.
Not that she and her cousins were the only capable shinobi in the clan, but if two out of the three of them went completely blind, or lost their sight to the point where they could no longer take part in battles, or even defend the clan, then the Uchiha would be in terrible danger.
Without Madara and Izuna, it would only be Asami against the Senju brothers. She had come a long way in strength, but there was no way she would be enough to protect the clan from both of them. Izuna and Madara losing their vision would put the clan at risk. She couldn't believe they hadn't told her.
Asami assumed it was some measly attempt at protecting her. But she didn't feel protected at all—she felt betrayed.
"You… you both kept this from me?" She asked in a small voice, looking between her cousins in disbelief. "I can't believe this."
She covered her face, tears pricking at her eyes.
Asami was overwhelmed by everything. Izuna was going to die, and on top of that, both Izuna and Madara had been going blind for who knows how long. She didn't know what she was supposed to do. Was there anything she could do?
If the blindness was truly related to the Mangekyō, did that mean she was also in danger of losing her sight?
That thought didn't help her current emotional state, the burning sensation of tears filling her eyes growing worse.
Madara didn't look away from Izuna's intense gaze, jaw set and hands clenching the fabric of his yukata.
He was fighting an internal battle. How could he refuse the plea of his dying brother, his last remaining sibling… but to take Izuna's eyes… switching eyes was something unheard of. It had never been done before, as the Mangekyō was still something they didn't know much about. Who was to say switching eyes would even be the cure for their blindness?
Asami dropped her sleeve to her lap, another tear gliding down her face as she looked off to the side. She quickly moved to wipe it with her sleeve. Her chest was tight as a sense of mourning filled her, not only for Izuna, but for Madara as well.
Both of her cousins had been going blind, dealing with that on their own, and she hadn't known. She felt ignorant and a bit stupid. How could she have not known?
"I'm sorry we didn't tell you." Murmured Madara, his eyes downcast. The circumstances were weighing heavy on all of them. "We were only just beginning to research more into the Mangekyō. We didn't know much about it at all. We… we thought we had more time. There was the intention to tell you, believe me when I say that."
Asami took in a shaky breath, still not looking at him.
She wasn't angry at them. How could she be, when Izuna was on the verge of dying right in front of her? She couldn't blame them for anything now, especially not Izuna. There were plenty of 'what if's' running through her mind, but none of them were worth her energy. She was just overwhelmed, and sad.
"I believe you." She met Madara's gaze, her heart breaking once again as she met it. The stress lines were deep around his eyes, his eyes red from the tears shed earlier.
"There's no need to apologize now. I think what's most important…" Asami swallowed, looking at Izuna with a careful gaze, the words almost dying in her throat as she tried to continue. She didn't enjoy the place her thoughts were taking her. "…is that we… that we figure out what to do from here."
Izuna began coughing again, this coughing fit more intense than the last. He covered his mouth as he wheezed, his eyes squeezed shut as blood spilled out from between his fingers. More blood leaked from his bandage, Izuna's entire body sickly pale and clammy with sweat.
Momoko leaned forward to help him. She peeled Izuna's hand away from his mouth the moment his coughing fit ceased and wiped it clean. Her face was grim, and while she had been silent throughout the conversation between the family members, now was her moment to speak up.
Izuna breathed deeply as he slumped back against the wall, his head drooping against his shoulder. His eyes were unfocused and had an empty look to them. Pure exhaustion riddled his features, a bit of blood coating his mouth as he attempted to regain the little energy he had left, the life leaving his body with every fleeting second. He didn't have much time left.
Momoko looked between Asami and Madara. Her face was expressionless, but her eyes were hardened, the cloth covered in Izuna's blood clenched in her hand. Her grip tightened around the cloth, her mind made up.
"Madara-sama," Momoko addressed her clan head, her gaze unwavering. "I will do the eye transplant for you."
Madara stared at her in shock. He couldn't believe her suggestion that she would be the one to remove Izuna's eyes and then shove them into his own head. He especially couldn't believe she would make such a statement when he had been protesting the eye transplant throughout the conversation. Had she not been listening at all?
Madara grit his teeth, about to snap at Momoko for interjecting herself, and for giving her own opinions on something that did not concern her, but Izuna's weak voice caused the words to die in his throat.
"…Aniki…" Izuna hadn't moved his head from the place on his shoulder, the last of his energy slowly fading. He looked at his older brother with tears now running down his face as his body weakly trembled from his quiet sobs. "Please… please do this for me… please take them. Take…take my eyes," more tears ran down his face as he sniffled, "…please."
Asami covered her mouth in an attempt to muffle her sobs, crying almost hysterically at the sight of her dying cousin crying. Izuna was in such a weakened state, unable to even lift his head or wipe his face as he cried.
Madara gripped the fabric of his yukata with all his might, jaw clenched as he too cried. He refused to look away from Izuna's pitiful gaze. His brothers begging, and desperation for Madara to do this for him, how could he say no? How could he ever refuse?
Madara sobbed, gritting his teeth. "You won't die."
All Izuna could do was continue to cry, too weak to respond—but Izuna knew that Madara had agreed. He would do the eye transplant.
Izuna passed before the hour was up.
The next day, Asami stood outside, alone before a table covered in colorful flowers. She was dressed in a black yukata with the top half of her hair pulled back into an intricate braid, Hana's pin placed delicately at the back of her skull. The sky was overcast with the beginning of a storm brewing overhead, the smell of rain in the air.
Izuna's cremated remains had already been taken back to the main house by Izanami. She was also going to check on Madara, as he was currently recovering from his eye transplant that took place the night before.
Momoko wasted no time and conducted the procedure immediately after Izuna's passing. She claimed that in order to preserve the Sharingan they couldn't waste any time.
Asami, while supportive of Madara's decision, did not stick around to watch Izuna's eyes be ripped from his corpse. She wasn't strong enough to witness it.
Momoko had also advised her to not be present, as she knew witnessing such a scene could cause irreparable emotional turmoil, and it was best for Asami to avoid it if possible.
Izuna's funeral had ended hours before, but Asami couldn't bring herself to leave, staring soullessly at the table covered in flowers gathered from outside the compound. She hadn't shed any tears since the night before. There were no tears for her to cry.
It was as though she didn't feel sad. There were no feelings of overwhelming mourning or grief—just anger and emptiness.
It was odd, as when Hana passed, all Asami could do was cry. She felt like a husk of herself then. A large gaping hole was left in her heart where her sister had once resided. With no motivation, Asami could barely eat or dress herself after her sister's passing, overcome with her own despair. But… these emotions were different.
Asami always tried to look at her enemies from a humanitarian perspective. She knew almost everyone who killed did not want to, and they were only doing so because they had to. It was the duty put on them by their clan; kill or be killed. If they did not push and fight their way through every battle, it would put their clan and the ones they loved at risk.
Who could ever blame someone for wanting to protect the ones they loved?
But this was different. Izuna's death was unprompted.
The Uchiha party, led by Izuna, were attacked by the Senju without any provocation. The Uchiha were careful when taking certain missions. It would be dangerous and unwise to travel into enemy clan territory as it could put the clients and their party at risk.
The Uchiha would not be stupid enough to track through Senju territory when returning from a simple mission where they were guarding expensive goods. The Senju hadn't even attacked while the Uchiha were with the client—they had attacked when the party was returning.
Plainly put, the attack was unprovoked.
Perhaps it was childish of her to be angry. She shouldn't expect the Senju not to attack even if the Uchiha didn't strike first. The Uchiha and Senju were enemies. Nothing would change that. If they happened to cross paths, it was obvious a battle would ensue.
But for all Hashirama spoke of peace, one would think he would refuse to attack unless there was a desperate need for a fight.
Such a saintlike man, wasn't he? The beloved bringer of peace attacking an Uchiha party minding their own business. Hashirama in all angel-like glory… his actions were always a distinct contrast from the desperate pleas he berated Madara with.
The thought made Asami almost laugh out loud.
How ridiculous could someone be? Hashirama probably still thought of himself as a crusader, fighting every day for some fraction of hope and peace as though everyone else wanted to live like this. No one wanted to live in a world where the ones they loved died in front of their eyes, sickly pale, coughing blood… crying in desperation.
Asami squeezed her eyes shut, willing the images of Izuna's final moments from her head.
She never wanted to think of Izuna that way. Her strong-willed, powerful cousin, with a sharp tongue and cheeky attitude, would never be reduced to the sickly version of him she witnessed on the final night of his life.
Asami tensed at a presence that had walked up behind her. She stared ahead, her expression firm and eyes hardened, waiting for them to announce themselves.
"Asami-sama, I'm sorry to disturb you," Said Hikaku, still standing behind her. His eyes were trained on the back of her head, also dressed in a black yukata from the funeral earlier that day.
"What do you need?" She asked, wanting to figure out whatever he needed so she could be left alone.
Hikaku stared at the side of her face for a moment before speaking, "I came to check on you. It's raining, you know."
Asami blinked, seeming to come out of a trance. She looked around, realizing the surrounding area was covered in water, rain pouring down from the grey sky. She lifted her head, gazing up at it. "I didn't notice."
Hikaku grimaced, a crease appearing between his brows. "…How long have you been out here?"
"What does it matter?"
He frowned. "Asami-sama, please."
Asami looked over at him, the rain running over her face and down the bridge of her nose. A beat of silence passed as she did some mental calculations and responded vaguely. "Since the funeral ended."
Hikaku stared at her for a moment with an expression of disbelief. "…The funeral ended three hours ago. You've been standing here alone for three hours? It's been storming for some time now."
Had she been out here for three hours? She didn't know, but it didn't seem impossible. There was no way for her to keep track of time. There was nothing else for her to attend to that day either. Hikaku seemed alarmed at the length of time she had been standing there, but Asami didn't see the need for the concern. It wasn't really his business what she did with her time anyway.
"Is there something you need?" She asked curtly, her temper short.
Hikaku only frowned at her sharp response. A heavy silence rested between them, the rain pattering on the rooftops of the nearby homes.
Asami could feel his sharp gaze burning holes in the back of her head.
Hikaku was a loyal man whom she and Madara had trusted for years. He was one of the few she would trust with her life without hesitation, but still, she chose to keep her gaze fixed ahead, determined not to look at him. She was afraid that if she did, her emotions might spill over, and she would end up taking her anger out on him. Hikaku did not deserve to feel the brunt of her emotions. Even in her state, she knew better than to lose control, as it would cause more harm than good.
"You're very strong, Asami-sama." He said simply, still observing her for any change in her emotions from his words.
She didn't say anything in response, but her brows furrowed in confusion. What was he talking about?
"I'm not sure where Madara-sama is, but he was not present for Izuna-sama's funeral. Please keep in mind as I say this, that I would never wish to speak ill of him. While he is my clan head, he is also my friend." He began, still staring at her for any change in emotion. "I would never want to do him wrong."
Asami's defensiveness heightened at the mention of Madara. "I would be careful, Hikaku-san."
"As I said, I do not wish to offend. I consider Madara-sama a friend, but I do take care to keep in mind that he is my superior," Hikaku clarified, trying to navigate the delicate line between loyalty and respect he was balancing.
Asami wasn't sure what Hikaku was about to say, but to prelude his statement with a disclaimer put her on edge. If his words had the potential to be disrespectful or inappropriate, she felt that maybe it was something that shouldn't be said at all.
While she thought this, Asami was also confused, and a bit taken aback by Hikaku's approach. Hikaku was not one to stir up trouble, often hanging in the background, only to chime in when asked or if a situation was dire. For him to speak up in any way, especially at such a sensitive time, perhaps it was something she needed to set her emotions aside for and listen to.
Hikaku could tell he had already started to agitate her. He was to navigate this conversation carefully if he were to continue.
"Do I have permission to continue? Forgive me, Asami-sama, if I have already pushed a boundary." He apologized.
Asami sighed deeply, the empty, grief-stricken feeling in the pit of her stomach growing.
"Go ahead." She granted reluctantly.
Hikaku nodded, "Very well."
She clenched her jaw and prepared herself.
It would still do Hikaku well to not speak ill of Madara. Even though she gave him permission to speak, if he chose to insult Madara, she would have no trouble punching him across the jaw. Self-control be damned, slander to her cousins name wouldn't be tolerated.
Hikaku could feel the unease from her. So his response was careful, choosing his words wisely. "As I stated earlier, Madara-sama was not present at Izuna-sama's funeral. I won't ask what kept him, as I know it is not my business. However, I know I was not the only one who noticed his absence."
Asami wasn't sure what he was trying to insinuate. It was confusing and left many questions, but she also felt a bit stupid for not making a connection earlier of what Madara's absence could mean.
With Izuna's sudden passing and the eye transplant occurring so soon after his death, she hadn't thought about what the implications of Madara's nonattendance would be. This wasn't just another clan member's funeral—it was his brothers. While he was a grieving sibling, he was still the leader of the clan. Appearances were still important.
But she needed to hear exactly what Hikaku was thinking before she spiraled.
Asami turned to look at him, her eyes sharp as she met Hikaku's equally dark gaze.
"Explain." She demanded, her voice calm, but carrying an edge to it.
"The clan took notice of his absence as well," He elaborated, before pausing, thinking deeply about his words.
Hikaku looked off to the side, a pondering expression crossing his features. His lips were downturned into a frown, his long hair soaked from the rain and covering his eyes slightly.
"There's been a shift in the clan. I can feel it," he said. "They're agitated and frightened. All the members of the main family have fallen other than you and Madara-sama. While they should be looking to Madara-sama for guidance, I'm not sure that's the case anymore."
Her face tightened.
Hikaku's words hinted at potential betrayal or disloyalty within the clan during a time that was so sensitive with Izuna's recent passing. The thought of a coup was alarming, and Hikaku's explanation was too close to comfort to suggesting such a thing. Asami's anxiety increased, and she couldn't help the accusation that seeped into her tone.
"What you're saying is very dangerous," Asami said, her voice firm. "It speaks of betrayal. I'm surprised you would even come to me with such a statement, especially after Izuna's passing. This is a sensitive time, and you are speaking of a coup?!"
Hikaku seemed genuinely alarmed by her accusation, shaking his head fervently.
"No! Not at all," he protested, trying to convey that he had no ill intentions or disloyalty towards Madara or Asami.
Asami maintained her stern gaze, her eyes narrowed, as she waited for his next move. She was wary of any further revelations and wanted to know if there was more to his statement. "Then you better wrap up your explanation."
"All I mean to say is… while Madara-sama was not present, you were." He finished.
Asami's stern façade softened slightly as Hikaku concluded his explanation. The surprise in her expression was evident, and she leaned back, trying to grasp the full extent of what he was telling her.
It was a lot to take in, and her mind was racing to make sense of the situation. What did he mean by saying 'she was there'? Why was her presence so much more meaningful alongside Madara's absence?
"I heard the beginnings of this attitude once Madara-sama vanished with Izuna-sama at the battle at the Naka River. I do not share these feelings, of course, but the clan members feel as though Madara-sama had abandoned them, and that he abandoned you as well. You stayed behind and killed a member of the Senju family, giving our survivors enough time to flee." Hikaku continued. "Then today, you were the only member of the main family to show face at Izuna-sama's funeral. You may not see it, Asami-sama, but the clan is looking to you for guidance. I fear… I fear the clan may be questioning Madara-sama's position."
Asami's surprise turned into a mix of emotions—confusion, concern, and a deep sense of responsibility.
It seemed some clan members harbored underlying feelings of abandonment and doubt towards Madara, which had seemingly intensified since the battle at the Naka River. It was not good news, and it made her uneasy.
Asami didn't understand why her presence seemed to hold such significance in the eyes of the clan. She had always been a loyal member of the Uchiha clan and had never questioned her duty or commitment to her people. She never sought the spotlight or aspired to lead the clan; that role had always belonged to Madara. In fact, she had always shied away from such a place. It would be her personal nightmare to carry the title of clan head.
But now, in the wake of Madara's absence and his nonattendance at Izuna's funeral, it seemed that the clan was turning to her as a symbol of stability and strength. Hikaku's words hinted at the possibility that some clan members were questioning Madara's leadership, and she couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the weight of these implications. Any thought that Madara was not fit to lead the clan needed to be squashed.
Asami's brows furrowed with concern. She was a bit shaken at the revelation, and she took a moment to gather her thoughts before responding.
"I never sought to take Madara's place," she said earnestly. "He is the rightful leader of our clan, and I have always supported him wholeheartedly. I understand that some may be feeling uncertain and fearful, but that doesn't mean they should turn away from Madara. To turn away from him would be an act of treason."
She took in a shaky breath, placing a hand to her eyes. She could feel a migraine coming on. "Please do not bring this to Madara. I'm not going to bring it to him now either. There needs to be no discussion of this. I fear that with Izuna's…"
She swallowed hard, the words dying in her throat. She couldn't bring herself to speak of Izuna's death out loud, her chest hurting at the thought.
Asami dropped her hand, jaw tight as she tried to keep herself composed. "I fear that it may push Madara over the edge."
Hikaku nodded a sense of relief apparent on his face. "I trust your judgment, Asami-sama," he said sincerely. "I know that you and Madara will find a way to lead the clan through this difficult time."
Asami's smile, though appreciative, couldn't fully hide the turmoil she felt inside. "Thank you, Hikaku," she said, her voice tinged with a mix of gratitude and unease. "Your loyalty and honesty mean a lot to me, and I know I can rely on your support as we navigate through this challenging time."
Completely soaked from the rain, Asami returned home. She lingered outside of Madara's bedroom, both Momoko and Madara inside as he recovered from the eye transplant the night before.
She stood before the room, hesitant to enter.
Asami hadn't spoken to Madara since the night before. She wasn't sure how to face him. She felt like a coward, hiding from her cousin in his time of need, but she didn't have the courage to look him in the eyes after Izuna's passing.
Madara needed her—he was there for her after Hana's death, but even so, she had a hard time finding the strength within her to face him before now. If she could have it her way, she would have waited even longer before facing him, but she had avoided him for long enough already. It wasn't fair to Madara, and it wasn't fair to herself.
It was hard to stomach the thought of standing beside Madara without Izuna. It didn't help that she would be looking into Izuna's eyes the next time she saw Madara. Asami had kept it together all morning, the anger and emptiness overshadowing the grief and sorrow deep within her. One look into Izuna's eyes… she wouldn't last.
But Madara was all she had left now. She couldn't turn her back on him. The realization that the clan seemed to be abandoning Madara made her resolve stronger to stand by him.
Throughout the years, Madara had been a constant rock, providing unwavering support to Asami in her darkest moments. Now, it was her turn to be a sense of stability for him. She couldn't let him face this challenging time alone.
Asami pushed the door open and stood in the doorway. Her breath caught in her chest at the sight of Madara kneeling on the floor with white bandages around his eyes. A single candle near where Madara kneeled was the only source of light in the room. Momoko wrung out a cloth over a bucket in the corner of the room.
The atmosphere in the room was heavy with grief, and Asami felt paralyzed, unable to move from her spot in the doorway. It was as if time stood still, and the sight of the bandages around Madara's eyes served as a painful reminder of Izuna's passing. The procedure to transfer Izuna's eyes to Madara had been completed.
The thought of Izuna's eyeless corpse made her feel sick.
Noticing her presence, Momoko placed the cloth over the side of the bucket. She stood to her full height and met Asami's gaze, sharing a sympathetic look with her. Asami didn't share the expression and kept her features emotionless.
She knew Momoko meant well, but she didn't need to share any more tears with her. The head healer had seen her cry enough already.
Momoko's eyes filled with understanding, and nodded gently, signaling that it was okay for Asami to approach. With a deep breath, Asami finally moved toward Madara. She kneeled in front of him, her hands clenching the fabric of her yukata.
Asami fought for something to say to her cousin, but she found she couldn't come up with the words. Her chest was heavy and she could already feel the tears in her eyes as she looked at him. She wanted to say something—anything really, would suffice, but what was the right thing to say in a time like this?
Saying nothing seemed like the only resolution.
Momoko hovered in the corner, looking between Asami and Madara. She laid the cloth she had been wringing out over the side of the bucket, before coming over to the two of them.
While he didn't see her with his own eyes, he was aware that Asami had come into the room, but it seemed he too could not come up with the words to say to her. He remained still and unmoving.
Neither of them knew how to proceed from here. Both were lost without Izuna's presence.
Momoko looked between the two cousins again, before she laid a hand on Madara's shoulder. "Madara-sama, I believe I can remove the bandages now. How do you feel?"
"I feel fine. I believe it's all right to remove them as well." He responded, voice rough and raspy, as though that was the first time he had spoken all day.
Asami tensed as Momoko began unraveling the bandages around Madara's eyes. The room was heavy with anticipation. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears as Momoko carefully unwrapped the bandages from around his eyes, carefully lifting his spiky hair as she undid them. The bandages fell into a discarded clump on the ground beside where he kneeled.
Momoko stepped back, folding her hands in front of her.
Asami averted her eyes immediately. She looked at the ground, her hands grasping at the thighs of her yukata.
The prospect of seeing Izuna's eyes staring back at her instead of Madara's was too much to bear. She knew it wasn't Madara's fault; he had done nothing wrong. In fact, she had encouraged the procedure because it was Izuna's dying wish. But at that moment, her own weakness overwhelmed her. The thought of those familiar eyes, filled with memories and emotions, threatened to push her into madness.
"How do you feel?" Asked Momoko.
There was a pause with a sudden shift in the aura of the room. Asami wasn't sure what the sensation was, but it was enough for Momoko to let out a soft gasp. Curiosity mixed with apprehension, Asami finally lifted her head, her mouth falling agape at the sight of the new shape his Sharingan had taken.
The eyes staring back at her were not Izuna's—they were far from that. They were filled with fire. Pure fury seemed to burn within them, an intensity she had never witnessed before in Madara's eyes. It was chilling in contrast to the stone-cold expression he wore, a shadow overcasting his features and black spiky hair. The shape of his Sharingan was something she had never seen before. Not even his Mangekyō had taken such a shape.
Asami swallowed, flexing her fingers against her yukata. She took a moment to look at him, but Madara did not waver, the intense fire in his eyes seeming to grow.
"…What do you see?" She asked finally.
"I see…" Madara's jaw clenched. He clenched his fists, anger overcoming him, the image of Senju Tobirama falling into his mind's eye. "I see the death of the Senju."