Chapter 10 - The Meaning of Sacrifice
Dawn turned into noon, and noon to dusk. As night settled, the remaining residents of Konoha had barely gotten an iota of rest all day. Hashirama lay in his own bed, with almost the entirety of his torso wrapped in medical gauze. Mito had just changed the dressing, and most of the bleeding had now stopped.
He had dismissed the team of medical shinobi that Tobirama had summoned for him after they confirmed what he already knew - that his chakra gates had been destroyed. He refused further examination, then; he was starting to feel better already by merit of his own regenerative ability, and could only pray that its effect extended to his chakra gates, as well.
The Konoha hospital was overrun with patients. According to the report he had received from the doctors, the majority of hospitalisations were due to breathing issues as a result of 'excessive dust inhalation'.
Hashirama balled his hands into fists. That was what the doctors had decided to call it, and they were technically correct. It was just that everybody knew the origins of the dust, and nobody wanted to say it out loud.
There were other hospitalizations as a direct result of the previous day's battle, too, mostly due to some combination of dehydration and overexertion. The wards were filled with those family and friends who had searched fruitlessly for loved ones until their bodies simply gave out in exhaustion.
"It looks like Madara got his wish to destroy Konoha after all," Mito said bitterly, as the last medic stepped out their door, turning and bowing before closing it softly.
Hashirama drew a breath to reply, but he grimaced and let out a wheeze of pain as he tried to speak. Specks of blood splattered on Mito's cheek as she leaned in to caress her husband's head.
"Even in death, his curse of hatred vexes the village," she whispered. "We will not take this lying down."
It was Tobirama who spoke in his brother's stead; "You know that I hold no love for Madara, but if not for his sacrifice today, neither Hashirama nor I would have returned alive."
"Tobirama speaks the truth," Hashirama said weakly, "but you cannot be more right, Mito, in that we will not take this lying down. Send word for the Five Kage Summit to be held in Konoha in one week's time. Stamp the summons with my seal - if the hidden villages choose to call me the God of Shinobi then they can prove their faith by uniting with me against these Shinigami."
Madara awoke to a strange sensation. There was no pain anywhere in his body, and he could feel a gentle, soothing warmth on his neck and back. He opened his eyes, and started as he saw the emerald eyes of Tier Harribel staring back at him.
"Why am I…in your lap?" Madara slurred out, still groggy. I must have been out for some time. He had a dozen more practically pressing questions but for some reason those were his first words.
"Lord Aizen suggested that you may regain consciousness sooner if you rest on my lap instead of the hard floor," Harribel explained, without missing a beat.
Madara considered her words, then took a few seconds to appreciate the softness of her legs; a second question suddenly took premier importance in his mind; "But I thought your hierro was as hard as steel? Why are your legs so soft?"
"I can regulate its hardness with my reiatsu," she replied, looking away.
Why am I still lying here…? Madara suddenly thought as he sat himself up. His armor was gone, leaving him in just his dark blue undershirt and trousers. His hands and feet were bound by some kind of heavy stone cuffs. His last memory was the world turning into black and every cell in his body screaming in agony, but he felt quite refreshed, now.
"Did Aizen heal us?" Madara asked, noticing that Harribel also bore no sign of her injuries.
"Yes, Lord Aizen arranged for us to be healed. He will return soon to discuss your induction into the Espada," Harribel stated.
Finding his feet, Madara stood and took his time to look around them. There was blackness as far as the eye could see. He activated his rinnegan to see clearer, and found that he was essentially in a sealed room - there appeared to be no windows or doors. Some kind of high level prison? The stone cuffs binding his limbs seemed to be siphoning a sizable amount of reiatsu from him, but his chakra was unaffected. Looking at Harribel, he noticed that she was not bound like he was.
Putting some strength into his arms, Madara tried to break the restraints, but despite his best efforts, he could not even put a single crack in the stone.
Harribel saw the questioning look in his eyes, and explained; "Lord Aizen saved your life, but he does not trust you, yet. I am free because I am his loyal Tres Espada."
Madara nodded; he supposed that made sense, except… "How did Aizen convince Yamamoto to allow that? And why would they put us in the same cell? I thought Shinigami and hollows were natural enemies."
Harribel nodded; "Of course they are, and they have been since the dawn of time. However, Lord Aizen has plans to change that, though it is not my place to reveal them to you."
Madara contemplated Harribel's words, noticing she didn't answer either of his questions. "So Aizen is working against the Shinigami?"
Harribel looked away again; "I cannot confirm or deny."
Madara chuckled at that; "You don't talk to people much, do you, Harribel?"
She crossed her arms at that, raising an eyebrow. "I talk to my fraccion."
"The people I hurt with my fire release when we met in Hueco Mundo?"
"Yes."
"Tell me about them." Madara asked as he sat cross legged in front of Harribel.
She shrugged, and said; "Their names are Apache, Mila Rose and Sun Sun. I saved them from some hollows who wanted to prey on them."
"How very noble of you."
"…"
"Well, is there anything else you can tell me about Apache, Mila Rose and Sun Sun?" Madara pressed.
"They were all Adjuchas hollows, but are Arrancar like me, now. Apache was a horse hollow, Mila Rose was a lion and Sun Sun was a serpent," Harribel elaborated.
Madara threw his head back in laughter; "You really don't talk to people, do you." This time, it was not a question.
Harribel frowned. "I had thought to humor your small talk before helping you reconcile the events of yesterday, but you appear to have forgotten about your villagers and Hashirama in favor of belittling my conversational skills." She raised her voice as she stood, a hint of accusation in her tone.
Madara gave her a quizzical look; surprised at the sudden shift in her mood; "What do you mean?"
"I honestly hoped that you were different from Grimmjow and Nnoitra, but it looks like you are just another bloodthirsty, battle hungry hollow. Does the sacrifice of your comrades and villagers mean nothing to you?" She demanded, looking down at him.
Madara remained seated, but all traces of mirth were gone from his face. His mouth was pressed in a hard line as he locked eyes with the Espada. He let the silence hang in the air until Harribel shifted uncomfortably.
Eventually, he sighed, and softened his features. "I have forgotten nothing, Harribel. This is simply the shinobi way of life."
"What?"
"How old are you?" Madara asked.
Despite how strange the question felt to her in the context of their conversation, there was something about the way he asked it that compelled Harribel to answer.
"I don't know. I was a Vasto Lorde before I was an Arrancar, and I was an Adjuchas before that. I can't remember any further, but decades, at least…maybe centuries," she said honestly.
"Funny that. I think I am in my thirties…? If I compare myself to how other shinobi look at those ages, that's what I would guess. But honestly, we are in the same boat - I just don't know my age," Madara said, stroking his chin, before continuing: "Do you know why not?"
Harribel shook her head.
"Because I have been fighting since I could hold a kunai. Fighting for my life, for the survival of my family and my clan. I fought, and I killed, because every enemy I cut down was one less enemy that could hurt those I cared about."
"And I am not alone. Hashirama was the same. Until these recent few years of peace, many shinobi did not count their age because we did not want to face the reality that we were sending children to their deaths."
Harribel fixed a glare at him; "So you are used to it, then? What you're describing sounds just like the hollows of Hueco Mundo, except they kill and consume to grow their own power. Your words only serve to further prove my point."
"You seem unimpressed," Madara observed dryly.
"Because that is the world that I fought against, and would have given my life to protect my fraccion from…and it is the world that Lord Aizen seeks to reshape."
Aizen wants to reshape the world? "Then are you not, in a way, also participating in this war-torn, bloodthirsty existence that you so despise?" Madara challenged.
Harribel narrowed her eyes, and didn't answer for a moment; "I was a participant, yes, when I was still a hollow, but Lord Aizen has the power to free hollows from their instinctive hunger by evolving them into Arrancar. There is society in Hueco Mundo, now, and it has become a much safer place under his rule."
Aizen is the key to becoming an arrancar…? "So you fight to help him create peace?" Madara was learning important information from Harribel, and he would not let such an opportunity go to waste.
"Yes, I would give my life to make his world a reality...I would sacrifice everything to see true peace come to Hueco Mundo." Harribel spoke sincerely, but Madara saw some glaring holes in her logic.
"What about the shinigami, when they discover that hollows are becoming Arrancar and fostering civilization? Those people we fought don't strike me as the type to just let that be."
"We will crush them. When our forces become powerful enough, we will invade Soul Society and kill them all."
Madara smirked. And there it is. "Listen to yourself, Harribel. Do you not sound like a 'bloodthirsty battle hungry hollow' right now?"
"We would be fighting to protect our kind," she retorted.
"As I fought to protect mine. But why not negotiate terms of peace with the shinigami instead?"
Harribel shook her head, and physically recoiled at Madara's question. "Impossible. You yourself just said that shinigami and hollows are natural enemies-"
"And you said Aizen wanted to change that," Madara interrupted her.
"With the Arrancar," Harribel clarified. "We transcend the boundaries between hollow and shinigami. There will be resistance from the shinigami, but their sacrifice will be the cost of peace between the realms."
Madara was still seated. He fought the urge to bury his face in his hands as Harribel echoed the very words of his late father and brother: 'There will be peace when the Sarutobis are subjugated... There will be peace when the Senjus are vanquished… there will be peace when our fallen comrades are avenged.' He closed his eyes, recalling the words that were so often heard whenever the idea of 'peace' was thrown around. It was often at funerals for their shinobi.
"How naive. The cycle of hatred will not end like that. You just spoke to me about the 'sacrifice' of my villagers. But they did not sacrifice themselves for anything. They were killed as a result of our battle with the captains, and the traumatized survivors will be vying for shinigami blood once they find out."
"It will be the same for you. Even if you manage to obtain victory, there will be survivors, and they will want vengeance," he said softly. "You speak of sacrificing your life for the sake of peace, but if it is something that you desire, then even if you were to die for it, it cannot be considered a sacrifice. If you died in a conflict that you initiated yourself, you are just a casualty of your own stupidity."
Harribel rounded on him, grabbing him by the protrusions on his shoulder pads and lifting his face to hers. Her glare was murderous. "Do not presume to lecture me on sacrifice. Lord Aizen personally taught me the meaning of that word. He has made me the Espada who embodies sacrifice itself."
Madara glared back at her. He tried to grab her hands to pry her off him, but inwardly cursed when he remembered that his own hands were bound. "Oh? Then what, pray tell, is 'Lord' Aizen's meaning of sacrifice?"
"To give your life for the sake of somebody else," Harribel replied instantly, eyes shining with conviction.
"Would you give your life for the sake of Aizen's peace?"
"Without a second thought."
"How painfully naive," Madara said as he felt an old anger resurfacing. "Then you would die for the sake of a genocide. All your 'Lord Aizen' has achieved by teaching you such childish notions of sacrifice is the creation of a mindless pawn who would die for their master."
"You dare call me a mindless pawn? I am Tier Harribel, Espada no. 3. I am the third strongest Arrancar in Lord Aizen's army and I am indispensable to him! I am present at every Espada meeting and my input is always taken into consideration!" Harribel shouted in his face, "Lord Aizen just saved us from the shinigami. He saved you from Yamamoto! Show some gratitude." She shook her head as she tossed him down.
Madara got up and back to a cross-legged, seating position. "Then why did he try to kill me earlier with that kido of his? Did he save us because of his compassion for hollows, or did he save us because he recognized our strength? He obviously wants me on his side - you said so yourself that he would come to discuss my induction into this 'Espada' of his."
Harribel lunged toward him, this time violently hoisting him up by the scruff of his collar. "If Lord Aizen wanted to kill you, he could do so with a mere thought. That is how powerful he is. He never intended to kill you. He played the events of earlier perfectly to create the situation we are in now."
"...I see. In that case, I will pose my questions to Aizen himself when he arrives to gauge his worth as an ally. You are clearly too infatuated or indoctrinated by whatever history you two share to have any objective view on this matter." Madara was mildly concerned by her implication of Aizen's power, but he was fairly certain that Harribel had been brainwashed into worshiping the shinigami captain, somehow. Regardless, he would tread carefully in his interactions with the man.
He was surprised, then, when the Espada set him down on his feet again, and crossed her arms. "I apologize. Lord Aizen saved me and my fraccion, and gave us all the power to protect ourselves. I will not stand for anyone to insult him. However, I understand that your caution is warranted as you only know him as an enemy. I also understand that if we are to work together as Espada in the future, we should do our best to settle any animosity between us. Tell me why you insist that I am mindless and naive, and allow me to prove you wrong."
Madara looked into her eyes, thoughtfully. They were burning with self-righteous indignation, but also sincerity. She is misguided, but she is kind at heart. She did risk herself to fight with us against the captains. He nodded. "Very well, then. Allow me to show you, instead. And allow me to teach you the true meaning of sacrifice; one that can only be experienced by a Uchiha."
Harribel did not shirk from him, holding his gaze even as his right eye morphed into the mangekyou sharingan.
"Tsukuyomi," Madara whispered gently.
Harribel suddenly found herself standing amongst a group of five young children, all of whom had spikey, black hair and wore dark blue shinobi garbs that bore the symbol of a red crescent atop a white fan. They were running around with blunted Kunai, giggling happily as they tried to tag each other. An older man wearing grey-black battle armor adorned with the same crest on his back was watching over them. His shoulder-length hair was parted neatly above his left brow, and his eyes held similar red and black markings to those she had just seen in Madara's. A sheathed sword was attached to his hip.
Suddenly, one of the children stopped his playing and walked up to Harribel. He bore a striking resemblance to the older man observing them. It was then that Harribel noticed three of the children's facial features were unclear, as if she were looking at them through a pool of murky water.
Madara's voice came from the child, unsettling her greatly; "Tajima Uchiha, my father." He pointed to the older man, before gesturing to the other children. "Izuna, and my three other brothers who died when I was so young that I've forgotten their faces. The only game Uchiha children were allowed to play was sparring and weapons drills, learning how to kill other shinobi using our kunai."
The scene changed. "My mother died soon after birthing our youngest brother. She was killed by my father."
Harribel instinctively gasped, taking a step back as the gruesome scene was played out by two shadowy silhouettes. Tajima's silhouette removed his sword from the other as he turned toward her; even as Harribel looked into his red eyes, she saw them changing. The black markings within the pupils were warping and elongating.
"This is the mangekyou sharingan. It was long thought to be the pinnacle of the Uchiha's visual prowess, and the belief was that it could only be awakened by killing the person dearest to you. We later discovered that the trigger could be any form of deep trauma, but the easiest way was for the weaker of two friends or family members to sacrifice their life for the stronger to obtain it."
"You accused my notion of sacrificing my life for the sake of another of being childish, but you would selfishly sacrifice a loved one's life to gain more power?" Harribel interjected, disgusted.
"And yet again you view it so superficially, and with such naivete. The Uchiha that are killed this way are hailed as martyred heroes. Their deaths would lead to the birth of stronger warriors for our clan…but what of the ones that live? The ones that killed their best friend, or their wife, or their mother? They are seen as monsters. Indispensable, powerful, and useful, yes, but monsters nonetheless. That is what I believe will become of you in the grand scheme of Aizen's plan."
"For these people to survive, and honor the sacrifice that bestowed upon them the Mangekyou, they themselves must forsake their humanity. Their pride, their desires and their happiness are all cast away for the sake of the clan. They become tools - nothing more than powerful weapons of the shinobi world."
Harribel opened her mouth, but no words came out.
Madara waited, and then when Harribel stayed silent, the scene changed again.
This time, Harribel saw Tajima stumbling around a mud hut with a roof of straw, feeling the air as if blind. Madara continued: "But there was another price to the power of the mangekyou sharingan. Each time it is activated, the user's vision grows weaker, until eventually, they lose their sight."
The scene changed again, to a battlefield. Two people wearing the Uchiha attire she had seen on Tajima were locked in a stalemate with…a younger Hashirama, and Tobirama? The one fighting Hashirama broke away, walking toward her.
Madara's voice came from the man; "My brother Izuna and I had both overused our mangekyou sharingan. He was special to me…I kept track of and celebrated every birthday of his because I swore to protect my last remaining little brother."
Harribel winced as Tobirama sliced through Izuna's side. Madara's voice became low; "Izuna died from his injuries when he had just turned 24. There was no time for celebration during the war, and no resources to waste on such petty indulgences; my present for his birthday was a promise to eradicate Hashirama's clan and end the war."
"Izuna knew his injury was fatal, so he transplanted his eyes into mine to return my vision. With his last breath, he extracted an oath from me never to accept a truce between the Uchiha and the Senjus, and to send Tobirama to the afterlife where he could have his revenge. Thus I awakened the 'Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan.'"
As he spoke those last words, Madara's eyes changed again into what Harribel remembered seeing before she was brought into this vision. "As far as I am aware, this can only be obtained by transplanting the mangekyou sharingan eyes of a close blood relative."
"But you and Hashirama founded the…" Harribel began, but Madara continued, cutting her off.
"My clansman thought I had killed my brother because my vision was failing, and I never corrected them." He spread his arms out, shrugging. "What was the point? I was their clan chief, but only because I was the strongest. In truth, I was just a hate filled weapon of the Uchiha - a mere tool of the shinobi world. A tool does not question its creation. It simply serves its function until it breaks or is no longer needed, and is either discarded or kept somewhere handy, ready to be used again when circumstances demand it.
"So have I forgotten the deaths of my villagers, or about Hashirama's crippling injuries? To answer your initial question, Harribel, 'no'. I feel. I hurt, and I am capable of sophisticated thought. But if I were hung up on every person who has died either for me, or because of me, I would have gone crazy long ago."
Madara paused, then looked into the sky and chuckled. "Or perhaps I am already crazy."
The scene shifted one last time to Madara lying on his back, surrounded by Hashirama, Tobirama and other faceless men wearing the insignia of the Senju Clan. Harribel watched in confusion as Hashirama unbuckled his armor, bringing a kunai out and motioning to stab his own heart before Madara reached out and stopped him.
"True sacrifice, to me, is to forsake your soul. In order to be the best shinobi tool I can be, I had to betray my own brother. I had to betray my own upbringing and the will of thousands of my dead clansmen. But I cannot dwell on the past…I can only look to the future, and hope that I am not too broken to be of use when I am needed again."
"That was my sacrifice; the sacrifice of the Uchiha, for the sake of peace." The Tsukuyomi faded back to the blackness of the Muken, and Harribel found herself on one knee, gasping for breath.
Madara knelt down before her, tenderly lifting her chin up. Her eyes glistened, and were downcast. "I do not mean to belittle the weight of a life, Harribel. And I agree that giving your life to protect those you cherish could be considered the ultimate sacrifice…but to spend your life in service to a vision of genocide is hardly the same. I know this, because I came from where you are now."
"Now look in my eyes again, Harribel, and tell me I don't understand the meaning of 'sacrifice.'" She looked at him, as tears rolled down her cheeks.
Before Harribel could answer, a block of wall slid open in the previously enclosed room. "Madara Uchiha. What are you doing to my 3rd Espada?"
AN- a bit of a breather from the action; don't worry it'll start back up again soon!
Really appreciating the reviews and feedback; as always, leave a review if you enjoyed it. It's a bit of a different chapter than previous ones, but I am hoping to set the scene for some future plot points here in this introductory chapter of the second arc.
Also responding MadaraLimboClone - damn thanks for point that out...I had originally planned for madara to get his eye back either through learning high speed regeneration from Ulquiorra or by becoming an arrancar, but I guess I can keep it ambiguous on why his rinnegan comes back. But no Madara is the main character of this fic - he will not stay nerfed, heh.
