Notice: First, I want to say thank you for the support you've shown towards my story. I was surprised by the positive reaction to the first chapter and how much you liked the plot. I also really appreciate you all taking the time to leave reviews.

I'd also like to respond to some questions people had in their reviews.

Kiroshima- Thank you for taking the time to write such a detailed review. I read the current one as well as the one you left earlier, and all I can say is that you don't have to worry about the plot. It is something that I had taken a lot of time to plan out over the past few months. The arcs, the way the story would go and the ending, all are already planned out. So, please enjoy the story with no worries.

Porfi091- I plan to make Naruto skilled in a lot of things other than Kurama. Since he is going to be under Madara, there is no way I can leave him with no mastery over an element and fuinjutsu.

LadyElwyn- It's nice that you noticed that detail. I gave him Yin Kurama for a reason which will be revealed in the upcoming chapters.

Note- Also, if you could help me with a summary, that would be greatly appreciated. The current one doesn't sound that according to me.


=X=

The forest was quiet, not the kind of quiet that came with peace, but the kind that could make anyone go insane due to the silence. Madara, who was sitting with his back against the trunk of a broad tree with his legs crossed, one arm resting loosely on his knee, hadn't moved much since waking up. His body had also stopped aching, but there was a stiffness inside him that went deeper than muscle or bone. It was in the air around him, in his thoughts, in the silence that was clinging to him like a shadow now.

He had no destination in this new world. He was alone, with no purpose and goal to reach.

The boy from last night had vanished too, into the peace of the village, leaving nothing behind but a burned-out fire and the faint scent of ash on his clothes. Madara hadn't asked for the boy's company, but now that he was no longer here, he couldn't help but notice that the silence felt louder than it should.

'What now?' Madara's fingers curled around a small stone beside him, gripping it tight before tossing it into the underbrush. The soft sound it made was too feeble to change anything in the surrounding and left him alone with his thoughts again.

"I can change everything." He had the strength to do it. There was no doubt about it. Even in this younger body that felt different to him, he was certain he could fight and defeat anyone he wanted to with ease. His eyes alone were enough to raze half of Konoha to the ground if he wanted.

'Black Zetsu.' His jaw clenched as he realized he could kill it too. 'I should kill it…' He thought as he was sure the creature was still out there, waiting for its pieces to fall into place, just like before. Madara could easily wipe it out before it accomplishes anything and get his revenge.

"But," he paused. "It's not the same one." This wasn't his timeline, his sad world. The Zetsu of this world was not the one who slithered its way into his mind before betraying him. It was different. Sure, it might have still fooled the Madara of this world, but that meant nothing to him. That Madara was a fool who deserved to be betrayed just like he was.

The Zetsu of this world had done nothing to him… yet… he couldn't help but still think about how that creature would beg if he went to kill him.

For a brief second, an image formed in his mind, dark and tempting.

'Burn it all with that creature.'

The village, the world, the shinobis inside it, and that creature. He could erase it all, tear it down layer by layer and no one would be able to stop him, at least not in this body and with these eyes.

But just as the image settled in, a memory slipped through and overshadowed that image in an instant.

Blue eyes… messy hair… and a stick holding burned fish.

"I want to make lots of friends. I thought... maybe if I give you this fish, you would be my friend."

Madara's shoulders sagged, his head tipping back against the bark. "Tch. Foolish boy," he muttered under his breath. He should've forgotten him, he wanted to forget him, but he couldn't.

It was not because of the fish or the smile, nor it was because of the kindness that the boy had showed to him. No… It was because of the look in the boy's eyes, that silent, desperate hope that was audible in every word of his. Madara knew that look too well. He had seen it in his own reflection, once upon a time.

And so, the fury burned out before it could bloom, fading into a weary heat in his chest. "Maybe I should just let this world rot," he whispered bitterly, closing his eyes again. "Sooner or later, it will consume itself once more... even if I intervene," he said to himself and sighed.

For a while, he stayed like that, neither asleep nor awake, before something inside him stirred eventually.

It was not curiosity, he could tell. It was just a vague... itch.

'How much had the village changed?'

Konoha, the place he helped build with his own blood, along with his friend. He hadn't seen it in decades, and with the forest growing restless, he wanted to leave it before he could fall into madness again.

"Fine…" Madara exhaled and stood, brushing loose leaves from his lap. With a single hand sign, a cloak materialized around him as he adjusted it around his shoulders. He then made another hand sign and smiled faintly when he could no longer sense his own chakra. If he could not, then he was sure no one else would either.

"Maybe I can finally see how those mindless fools have been living these days."

He slipped between the trees like a blur, heading toward the village hidden in the leaves, eager to see how his clan was living in the village.

=X=

The streets of Konoha were louder than Madara had expected them to be.

As he walked beneath the shadow of a hood, his chakra sealed so tightly that even the most skilled sensory-nin wouldn't catch a flicker, he couldn't help but notice how the village was moving around him without even giving him a second glance. The chatter of people, laughter of children, and the echo of sandals against stone, none of them felt familiar to him.

His eye, veiled by the hood, swept across the village once again to see how much it had changed. Unlike his time when most of the things were made up of wood, now buildings made up of stone pierced the sky. The old wooden homes he was familiar with were gone, replaced and improved by the people of the village. The village itself had outgrown its roots and looked nothing like the one he had helped to create.

In the distance, the Hokage Monument, carved into the mountain that towered over the village, loomed large. The sight of Hashirama's stoic, watchful face was the first thing he saw, but the sharp lines of his brother's face that followed made Madara frown, a bitter taste filling his mouth. Beside them, two other faces stared outward. "Hiruzen… Minato…" he could remember them easily, and fortunately for the village, they did not make him want to destroy the monument anymore.

Madara scoffed under his breath and began to walk again, with slow, deliberate steps, letting the village unveil itself to his eyes. Continuing on, he witnessed children darting through alleyways, laughing as they ate bread and sticky sweets, shinobis chatting about missions and market prices as they walked past him, and a trio of young ones training with wooden swords in a narrow courtyard.

Their footwork was clean, but too clean, and their strikes were sharp, but lacked desperation.

"They had never fought for survival," Madara noted, his eyes idling on them for a while longer. "Because they are living in peace…" The thought struck hard, sharper than he expected, but he said nothing and just kept walking.

Soon, a weapons shop, its weathered sign creaking in the breeze, came into view at the corner of the street. Its windows, sparkling clean, displayed a dazzling array of kunai, each one polished to perfection. "Interesting…" He stepped inside and blinked when the bell above the door jingled. Surprisingly, no one looked at him.

"They look nice…" He reached out, fingers curling around the hilt of a blade. The Katana was lighter than he had expected, and was forged from a special metal that enhanced its balance and gave it a striking, polished look. "Even war has become civilized." He placed the weapon back on the display and left the store without a word.

Further down the road, the smell of dango drifted into the air, sweet and familiar. Madara paused near the stall, where he saw a group of elderly men sitting on worn benches, discussing something.

"I still say the First Hokage was unmatched," one of the men said, tapping his cane against the ground. "He could stop wars just by walking onto the battlefield."

"Bah," another man replied with a snort, and tapped his friend on the shoulder. "The Fourth was faster than lightning. He saved the village from the Nine-Tails."

"So?" another one barged into the debate with a smug look on his face. "The third managed to live the longest. That says everything one needs to know about his power. He's called the God of Shinobi."

Madara's lips curved at the title, just barely. 'They don't even remember me.' He shook his head and turned away from the conversation to keep walking.

=X=

Madara could not help but frown as he moved through the crowded marketplace, his steps silent despite the chaos and annoyances around him. Merchants were barking over one another, waving goods in the air while expensive clothes and items were laid out in tidy rows inside different shops for potential customers.

'It's so different from the days of war and suffering.' He paused beside a fruit stand, watching as a woman haggled over the price of apples while her child clung to her leg, giggling, eyes wide with innocence. The sight was ordinary, even simple, and yet, something about it felt distant to him.

Madara clenched his fists beneath his cloak. 'Is this what you wanted, Hashirama?' he thought to himself, recalling how his friend had described what the village would look like in the future. It was close to the description but not similar in any way at the same time.

His gaze then shifted to a group of shinobi who were standing near the mission board, laughing over something insignificant. Their uniforms were crisp, their voices relaxed, and there was no tension in their shoulders.

The village had changed.

Madara could mock their softness, could sneer at their peace, but he couldn't deny that the village had flourished, even without him.

Still… peace was fragile.

'Illusions always are.' The thought tried to settle in his mind, but he let it pass. It was not worth his time anymore. So with a sigh, he turned from the market, letting the noise fade behind him, and began to walk elsewhere… somewhere quieter.

Madara's eyes dilated slightly when the cemetery greeted him with silence.

He looked around and could see it was still somewhat similar. Silent and sad. The bustle of the village was nowhere in the sight now, replaced by the stillness of the dead. Here he could finally feel belonged, as he was not supposed to be alive now.

He then began to walk slowly down the dirt path, eyeing the names that passed beneath his gaze. They were etched into stone, some of them fading with weather, while some forgotten entirely. He didn't expect to feel anything after seeing them, as most of these people had lived and died long after his time had ended.

But then he saw it. A name he knew very well.

Uchiha Izuna.

His steps halted, and the world dulled around him. For a moment, he wasn't standing in the present. He was a boy again, standing near the river to train while listening to Izuna's laughter echo across the riverside.

"Izuna…" Madara whispered, a sound barely audible as his fingers brushed against the stone. "Did I fail you?" he murmured, the words foreign in his mouth, rough with something close to grief and shame.

The name did not answer. Why? Because the dead never did.

He stood still for a moment longer, head bowed beneath the cloak, not in mourning, but in memory and shame. Then, without another word, he turned and began to walk away from the stone.

He did not want to face his brother with shame on his face.

=X=

Madara stopped mid-step as a flicker brushed against the edge of his senses—clean, sharp, familiar.

'Uchiha chakra.' His breath went silent as he stood still, feeling it more clearly now. It was unmistakable. The chakra felt very familiar to be of some other clan. 'So they are still living alone, huh?' Without hesitation, he turned toward the pulse of chakra, his feet speeding up as he followed it through narrow alleys and side roads.

The more he walked towards it, the more familiar the air became. Soon, the buildings changed, and the streets became wider. The silence that was following him vanished as he finally reached his destination.

There it was… the Uchiha district.

Far from the village center, the district was divided from it by barriers and tradition. The kind of barriers that spoke of exclusion and tolerated presence. One look at the place was enough for Madara to know that they were not welcomed by the village.

'Still the same.' He moved unnoticed through the shadows until he reached a small park nestled in the middle of the district.

Children were playing there… Uchiha children.

They were running across the field with wooden swords and shurikens, with no care of the world and what it thought of them. Some of them even reminded him of those from his own childhood, restless, proud, and always trying to outdo one another.

Among them, one child stood out to his eyes in an instant. His movements were sharp, his presence was powerful even at his age, and the way his eyes were moving across the field reminded Madara of himself at that age.

'Sasuke Uchiha.'

He realized it immediately. The boy's chakra was hard to miss, as it was very similar to his own. He stared at the boy for a moment, seeing how much he was smiling at that moment. It was completely different from the Sasuke he had met during the war. That Sasuke was someone who knew pain and suffering, while this one was yet to even know that they exist.

'Strange… He is so different from the blonde boy.'

Madara shook his head and saw that a few adults were standing nearby, watching over the children. Their expressions were tight and guarded, but their stances told a different story. Their shoulders were hunched, eyes were always staring at the perimeter. It was as if they were waiting for something to go wrong.

'Still living on the edge of someone else's village like idiots they are.'

He turned his gaze somewhere else, past the ground, past the rows of homes that lined the district. They had survived somehow, but survival was not the same as freedom. 'After everything… this is what you've become?' A bitter taste crept into his mouth.

The great Uchiha clan… still confined to the margins, still feared by the people they bled for, still playing at loyalty while being treated as little more than a necessary threat. 'Fools,' he thought, his jaw tight.'They are content with their chains, so long as they're polished.' He'd hoped, perhaps foolishly, that they would have learned in this world, that time would have taught them what pride and obedience cost, but nothing had changed.

The clan still hadn't learned the lesson he tried to force them understand when he was alive. His eyes narrowed as he glanced at the Uchiha adults once again. 'So be it.' Without a word, Madara turned and vanished into the alley from which he'd come, leaving behind the sound of wooden swords clashing and the hollow pride of a clan still waiting for someone else to tell them who they were.

=X=

After strolling through the streets of the village for a while more, Madara decided he had seen enough, and it was time for him to retreat into the forest and rest.

He immediately retraced his steps through the marketplace, his chakra still perfectly hidden as he walked amongst the villagers. The crowd had grown since earlier, more people going about their day, bartering, selling, and talking. It was the same meaningless nonsense as before.

Nothing had changed.

Then suddenly, a sharp, high-pitched scream tore through the air.

A child's scream.

Madara's body moved on its own before he even thought about it, his head snapping toward the sound. As he reached the location, his gaze cut through the shifting mass of villagers, searching for the source.

And then he saw him.

A small, blond child lay sprawled on the ground, curled in on himself. His small fingers, trembling slightly, were clutching at his forehead, and his face was scrunched up in a mask of pain, eyes squeezed shut. A few drops of blood were trickling from the corner of his temple, staining the stone beneath him red.

Beside him, a cracked mask was lying on the ground. It was a fox mask, one that was meant for a festival of some sort.

Madara's frown deepened ever so slightly, but before he could take a step forward to take a better look, voices rose around him. They were murmurs of irritation rather than concern, something that surprised him a little.

"Tch, that damn brat again."

"He shouldn't even be allowed to walk around freely here…"

"What if someone sees him? Get up and leave already!"

Madara's eyes flickered toward the crowd, scanning their expressions. Not a single person was showing remorse or concern for the injured child. Instead, their faces were twisted with barely concealed disdain, as if his very presence of the child was offending them.

Then, another voice, one that belonged to a shopkeeper, the likely culprit of the thrown mask, echoed between the murmurs. "I swear, it was an accident! If the Hokage finds out—"

"Then you better keep your mouth shut!" another man cut in harshly.

"Yes… No one wants trouble over him."

Madara's gaze shifted toward the man in question. He was a simple merchant, standing in front of a small shop filled with festival masks and other items. His hands were clenched at his sides, and his face was contorted with something that almost looked like guilt.

'No… it's not guilt… It's fear.'

Not fear of what he had done, but the fear of what the Hokage would do to him if he found out.

Madara's frown deepened significantly this time as he sensed no regret in these people's voices, only self-preservation. They weren't upset that they had harmed a child. They were only upset that they might get caught. His sharp eyes flickered back to the child and narrowed when he finally recognized his face.

'Naruto…'

The boy was lying completely still on the ground. Except for the occasional sniffle and whimpers, he was making no noise. His small hands were gripping the broken mask now and was trying to drag it closer to him.

Soon, he stood up on his feet, slowly by slowly, and glanced at the people around him with his blank eyes. Madara thought he was about to do something but blinked when the child just stayed still.

After a few seconds, Naruto simply wiped his eyes harshly with the sleeve of his raggedy white t-shirt, smearing dirt and blood across his forehead. Then, with slow, deliberate movements, he picked up the broken mask, cradling it in his hands as if it were something precious, and wiped it off with his sleeve too, painting it red in the process.

For a brief moment, Madara saw tears well up in Naruto's eyes again but the boy took a deep breath and turned around on his heels. Not wasting any time, he began to walk away from the group of people.

The villagers barely looked at him for a moment before behaving as if nothing had happened, as if he wasn't even worth their attention, as if the child wasn't even there.

Madara felt something twist in his chest, an emotion he hadn't experienced in a long time. It wasn't rage. It wasn't hatred.

It was disgust.

Not for Naruto, but for the ones who called themselves villagers of Konoha, the village who believed in the will of fire. For the first time since he had stepped into this world, he felt the overwhelming urge to act, to do something.

His fingers twitched inside his cloak, but he didn't move. Instead, he watched as the boy disappeared down the road with his head down and shoulders slumped. "Interesting…" Madara whispered slowly, closing his eyes for a brief moment. Then, when he opened them again, the cold calculation had returned.

Perhaps it was time to see just how much more a boy could endure in this peaceful village.

=X=

Madara was following the boy from a distance, watching as Naruto walked through the streets with slow, uneven steps. His small hands were still clutching the broken mask tightly, as if it were something that could be salvaged, something that would fix itself if he only held onto it hard enough.

The villagers around him were barely sparing him a glance and were passing by without any care, their indifference cutting deeper than any insult ever could.

Soon he saw Naruto turn around a corner, slipping away from the main street, away from the noise of the marketplace and people. Madara's sharp gaze followed him, his interest unwavering as the child wandered toward a secluded spot behind one of the larger buildings.

It was a forgotten little space, shaded by a lone tree, and beneath that tree, swaying ever so slightly in the breeze, was a single, old swing.

The boy came to a halt in front of it, his fingers curling around the rope as he lowered himself onto the worn wooden seat. He sat motionless for a moment, gripping the mask in his lap with his shoulders drawn in tightly as if he was trying to make himself smaller. Soon, his small head dipped forward, his messy blond hair falling over his eyes.

Then, Madara heard it.

A quiet, broken sob.

Naruto's small body trembled as the sound escaped him, and then another, until the dam finally broke. Tears began to slide down his dirt-streaked cheeks, his tiny hands coming up to hide his face as his body shook with the force of his grief. He hunched over, burying his face in his knees to hide it from the world.

Madara narrowed his eyes slightly, straining his ears to catch the child's muffled words. They were barely above a whisper, but he could hear them clearly.

"It hurts…" Naruto murmured, barely audible. "It hurts so much…" The small fingers clutching his knees tightened, his nails digging into the fabric of his pants. "I…" He sniffled, rubbing at his eyes with his sleeve, but the tears kept falling. "I just… I just wanted a mask," he whispered, his voice breaking due to pain. "Like the other kids…"

Madara remained still in the shadows, his expression unreadable. This was not the first time he had seen a child cry. He had seen countless children weep on the battlefield, had watched them mourn their fallen families, had seen their spirits break under the weight of war. But this?

This was different.

This was not the grief of loss. This was the cruel, unending pain of loneliness. The pain of being unseen, of being unwanted, and being denied something as simple as belonging.

The boy sniffled again, rubbing fiercely at his face with his sleeves, as if trying to scrub away his sadness. His breathing was still uneven, but he forced himself to straighten. Slowly, he stood up on his feet, his small legs wobbling slightly beneath him. Then his lips parted, and Madara watched as he took in a slow, shuddering breath.

In a second, the transformation happened.

Naruto's tiny hands balled into fists, and with one last swipe of his sleeve across his tear-streaked face, he lifted his head. His lips stretched into a wide, exaggerated grin, his teeth flashing as he smiled big and bright, as if the last few minutes had never happened. His blue eyes, still glassy from crying, changed into something cheerful… something he clearly thought the world wanted to see.

It was a mask, no different from the broken one he held in his hand.

Madara's eyes glowed red for a second as he watched the boy take a deep breath and step forward, walking back toward the streets. His smile did not falter as he marched forward, back toward the world that refused to acknowledge him while wearing a mask far more broken than the one he held in his hand.

For a long moment, Madara did not move. He had seen people don masks before. Warriors, leaders, and cowards, they all wore one to hide their true selves to protect what they cared about, to deceive their enemies, to become something greater than their humanity.

But Naruto?

This child was wearing a mask for the world not because he wanted to deceive it, but because he wanted it to accept him as one of their own, even just for a second. And somehow, that was far more terrible, according to him.

=X=

Madara's gaze swept across the clearing as he saw Naruto approach the playground.

It was nothing special and was filled with children that were running wild across it, caught in their games. Some were holding wooden swords, while others were clumsily mimicking hand signs, pretending to be great shinobi.

Among them, Madara saw it. The Uchiha crest, stitched into shirts and trousers, the symbol too big to go unnoticed. 'There are Uchiha children here?' He didn't react and his face remained unreadable, but his eyes sharpened ever so slightly.

Naruto stopped at the edge of the playground as hesitation flickered in his body. His fingers twitched, tightening around the broken mask still clutched in his hands. He stood there a moment too long and then stepped forward.

Smile intact.

"Hey!" he called out, his voice chipper… and hopeful. "Can I play too?"

No one answered as the children kept running and laughing with each other. Not a single child even turned to look at him.

Naruto's smile faltered, but only for a moment. "Come on, I'll play any role! You guys need another ninja, right?" He puffed out his chest. "I can be really strong, believe it!"

Still nothing.

He stepped closer. "Okay, okay! I can be the villain if you want! Or—or just a helper! I—" His voice died in his throat when a shadow fell over him.

Madara, who was watching everything unfold, decided to sit down on the ground.

One of the older boys, an Uchiha by the look of him, stepped forward. He was maybe eight, maybe nine, and had broad-shouldered. His dark hair framed his sharp eyes and his mouth was already curled into a cruel smirk, full of smugness.

Naruto froze.

The older boy reached out without a word and grabbed him by the collar, lifting him off the ground like he weighed nothing. Naruto's feet dangled, hands scrambling to pull himself free. "H-Hey—! Lemme go!" The boy didn't let go. Instead, his free hand yanked the broken mask from Naruto's fingers.

"Wait—don't—"

Madara's expression darkened as the boy sneered at Naruto. "You still don't get it, do you?" he said, voice low and mocking. "No one wants you here." And then he slammed the mask against Naruto's face.

A horrible sound rang through the air.

"Ahhh!" Naruto cried out, pain sharp and sudden, his small hands flying up to his face. "W-w…" Blood began to spill from his nose almost instantly, trailing down to stain his lip. Still, the boy held him. "Our parents don't like it when you come near us. So stay away." Then he dropped him.

Naruto hit the dirt with a muted thud, hands barely catching him before his face struck the ground. The mask clattered beside him, splintered, jagged and covered with blood.

No one moved.

No one helped.

The older boy brushed his hands together and turned away. "Come on," he called to his friends. "Let's go somewhere else." And like that, the others followed, without hesitation, without a backward glance.

Naruto stayed where he was, hunched on his knees in the dust, head bowed. His shoulders trembled as more blood dripped quietly from his nose to the earth below.

Madara didn't move.

'This village… these people… this world.'

They were exactly as he remembered.

And once again, Madara Uchiha was left with nothing but contempt.

=X=

Naruto remained in the dirt for a moment before his body went still. The only movement came was from the slow drip of blood from his nose, staining the ground beneath him. He opened his eyes and saw that the other children had already left, completely unconcerned with what they had done.

Madara, who was watching him, blinked when he finally pushed himself up. "Oww…" He winced as his arms trembled slightly, his palms scraped from where they had hit the ground, but he didn't cry.

Instead, he did what he had done before.

With a sniffle, Naruto lifted his sleeve and wiped at his face. "Haa…" His nose wrinkled at the sting, but he ignored it. Then, as if on instinct, he pulled his lips into another wide, fake smile, one that didn't reach his eyes.

He then picked up the shattered remains of the fox mask, holding it in his tiny hands for a long moment before letting out a small, shaky laugh. "Man, you really didn't last long, huh?" he murmured to it, his voice light, almost teasing, as if speaking to an old friend.

Then, with a small sigh, he dusted himself off and started walking, with Madara following him closely.

The boy moved through the village with that same forced energy, his smile still plastered on his face as if it would protect him. But Madara had seen enough of people to recognize the subtle signs of exhaustion in his little steps.

It wasn't long before a familiar sound broke through the silence.

A loud, empty grumble.

Naruto froze for a moment, then groaned, rubbing his stomach with an exaggerated pout. "Man, not again!"

Madara's eyes flickered downward, noting how the boy immediately shoved his hands into his pockets, rummaging around as if searching for something. The way his fingers moved, pressing into the fabric with increasing desperation, told Madara everything.

Naruto knew there was nothing in there. But still, he checked. His little shoulders tensed for half a second before he pulled his hands back out, empty.

For a moment, just a brief moment, the boy's smile wavered when he caught sight of a food stall just up ahead. Inside the stall, a group of shinobi were sitting at the counter, laughing and talking as they enjoyed steaming bowls of rice and grilled meat.

Naruto slowed down, his footsteps faltering as his gaze lingered on the stall. His blue eyes locked onto the food, watching as one of the shinobi lifted his chopsticks and bit into the meat, the juices glistening in the afternoon light.

His little throat moved as he swallowed.

Madara saw it.

He saw the way Naruto's fingers twitched at his sides, the way his body leaned just slightly toward the stall before he caught himself. Soon, he noticed the boy's stomach clench again, another soft grumble escaping despite the boy's best efforts to ignore it.

And then, just like before…

Naruto smiled.

Not the big, exaggerated grin he usually wore, but a small, sad smile. The kind of smile that said, 'I'm used to this'.

He let out a small chuckle, rubbing at the back of his head as if laughing at some inside joke only he could understand. Then, without another glance, he turned away and kept walking.

Madara did not.

His gaze remained on the food stall for a fraction of a second longer, his mind processing what he had just witnessed. Then, with a slow scoff, he continued following.

It wasn't long before Naruto finally stopped in front of a building.

Madara took one look at it and felt his jaw tighten.

It was old and broken. The wood was splintered, and the windows were barely holding it together. The paint had long since peeled away, leaving the structure looking abandoned and forgotten. The very foundation of the building seemed tired, as if the house itself had given up on being anything more than a place to exist.

'This is where he lives…'

Naruto, however, seemed completely unfazed by the state of the building. Instead, he giggled, stepping forward as he threw his arms out in front of him. "Someday," he said brightly, "I'm gonna have a huge house!" He twirled in place, as if envisioning it before his eyes. "A big place, bigger than the Hokage's! And I'm gonna have so many friends! A whole bunch of 'em! And…" he paused, his smile faltering for a second. "And a family too! A big, warm family that eats dinner together every night!" His hands clenched at his sides, his eyes shining with something distant and fragile.

"Yeah…" he murmured, quieter this time.

"Someday."

The boy entered the building.

=X=

Madara remained in the shadows, unmoving, his red eyes glowing faintly beneath the hood as he watched the boy disappear behind the rotting door of the house. He didn't need to follow anymore, as he already knew what was inside.

Nothing.

No warmth. No waiting arms to greet him, no dinner prepared, no voices calling out his name. Just silence.

The moment the door closed behind Naruto, Madara heard it again.

Grumble.

Fainter this time, muffled by the wooden barrier, but still there. The sound of hunger.

His gaze lingered on the house for a long moment, unmoving. The great Madara Uchiha, feared by nations, was standing in front of a shack where a starving child was going to sleep.

How utterly ridiculous. Yet he did not turn away.

Instead, his thoughts drifted back, back to a time when he and Hashirama had stood together, side by side, gazing at the land where they had built this village. He could still hear his old friend's voice, filled with conviction, with hope.

"A village isn't just about power, Madara. It's about family. When we create this place, it won't just be a home for shinobi—it will be a home for everyone. A place where no child has to suffer. A place where we take care of each other."

Madara's fists clenched beneath his cloak.

What a beautiful dream. And what a terrible, terrible lie.

Here was a child, one of their own, abandoned by the very village that was supposed to be his home. Not just ignored, but despised, hated for something he had no control over. He was being treated as an outcast for nothing more than existing.

"Is this the future Hashirama had wanted? This was the peace he had fought for?" A scoff escaped him, soft, sharp, and bitter. He had known. Even back then, he had known. This system wasn't built to nurture. It was built to endure. And like all systems, it demanded sacrifices.

This boy, Naruto, was the sacrifice.

"Tch!" Madara scoffed again, the sound low and sharp, as if he was spitting out the weight of his own thoughts.

When he had landed in this world last night, he was a defeated man who had no purpose. For him, it felt like he was a ghost, silently watching time slip away, carrying with it the familiar faces of the living world.

But now…

Now, as he stood before this broken home, listening to the faint echoes of a child's hunger through the walls, something within him shifted.

Uchiha Madara had always believed the world was rotten.

People, when given the chance, would always create division, always push the weak aside to elevate themselves. This village, his friend's village, was proof of that. They had taken Hashirama's dream and twisted it into something cruel, something selfish.

And yet, even in this cursed place, even among people filled with hatred, that boy Naruto still smiled.

It was infuriating.

It was intriguing.

And most of all, it was useful.

Madara had spent years believing that change was impossible. That people were incapable of truly understanding each other. That they would always find a reason to hate, to destroy, to cast others aside in their endless pursuit of power and comfort. That was why he had once sought the Moon Eye plan, to force peace upon the world in a way that left no room for its endless cycle of pain.

But now… now, he had another idea.

A better one.

Madara turned his gaze skyward, staring at the darkening sky. His mind was made up. At first, he had wanted to rest and die, leaving this broken world to its own fate. But why should he? Why should he abandon a world drowning in its own decay when he possessed the power to reshape its destiny?

The Uchiha had always been creatures of fate, bound by the hatred passed through their blood. But for the first time, Uchiha Madara felt something different. Why? Because this time… he was not going to follow fate.

He was going to rewrite it.

His gaze drifted back toward the boy's home, toward the small, cracked door that separated Naruto Uzumaki from a world that didn't want him. That boy had no idea a legend stood just beyond the shadows.

That his life, his pain, had just changed the course of history.

Naruto Uzumaki.

He would be the key.

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of Madara's lips. "Very well," he murmured to himself.

"One child against the world… Let's see who breaks first."

With that, he vanished into the shadows.

=END=


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