Before the engagement

"So what are we going to do now?"

Madara didn't bother to look at Izuna; he'd seen enough of the angry, frustrated, disbelieving expression on his face, all the way back to the compound. Looking at his face again was just going to make him angry too, and he couldn't afford to get angry, not now. Not after what they'd learned earlier today.

"We're going to have to find some way of approaching them," Aunt Miwa replied, her hands tented in front of her sightless eyes. "Some way that shows we're sincere in the matter, not insulting them."

Despite himself, Madara huffed out a laugh. "Oh, yes, that will be easy. Let's just send a messenger with a letter: Dear Hashirama. I need to marry your brother; I'll throw in a peace treaty to sweeten the pot! Regards, Madara. Yes, I'm sure that will go over quite well with him."

"Senju Hashirama is a bleeding-heart idealist - worse than you," Izuna said contemptuously. "He might believe it's romance or something like that."

"Hashirama may be an idealist, but he's also an older brother," Madara snapped, turning his head towards his brother and frowning deeply. "If he sent a message to me saying he wanted you as the price of peace, how do you think I'd take it? How would the clan take it? Think about that, and think about how we make our approach - because that is the message the Senju will receive, and I assure you, we're not that different from them in our reactions."

"Yes, because we're all the same," Izuna sneered in response. Madara hissed at his brother, half-rising from his seat.

"Enough!" Aunt Miwa snapped, slapping both palms on the table in front of her. The china set out for tea rattled ominously.

After the beginning

"So you've activated the Magenkyō," Miwa said neutrally. There was no outward change in Madara and Izuna's posture or breathing, but right on cue, their chakra flared up uncontrollably. Miwa would sigh, except her own mother had beaten that habit out of her forty years ago when she first began wielding the war fan. But it was not such a surprise that their new Clan Head and his brother were so undisciplined, given how they had been raised. Kameyo had spoiled her surviving sons far too much - but then again, her niece had always been soft-hearted about her children. How she'd raged when the Senju had assassinated her younger sons - for every son she'd lost, she'd gone on to kill a score of Senju in return in those bloody years of drought and famine...

"Honored Elder Aunt, how will we train?" That was the younger of the two brothers: Izuna, with a faint edge of impatience to his voice. The boy had a suspicious nature and tended to hold a grudge; not a bad counterweight to the elder brother. Miwa didn't bother to answer, only spun around and started walking towards the training grounds, barely hearing both of them obediently fall into step behind her. A part of her was pleased by how silent they were; another part was annoyed since it made it harder to keep track of them.

The path she was walking was one she knew by heart: twenty-six steps north on the main path, then turn forty-five degrees to the right and walk behind a row of dilapidated storehouses, stopping after one hundred and forty-five steps and making the sign to dispel before walking a further fifty-two feet into the hidden willow grove. Both of the boys were silent and unsurprised - they'd probably found this area as children. It had been a formal training ground during her childhood, but with the clan growing smaller, it had fallen into disuse like so much of their property, and now, it was just a haunt for the wild rabbits and domesticated crows.

"All right, it's quiet enough here," Miwa said. "Go ahead and activate the Sharingan. Let's see what you can do."

Before the engagement

"Enough," she repeated, softer this time. "Madara is right - we can't just blatantly demand Tobirama Senju as the price for peace. But we can't reveal the true reason, either."

"Because the true reason is bullshit," Izuna baldly stated.

"Take it up with the old man under the moon, for he is the one who ties the strings," Aunt Miwa replied, her own voice dry as a desert. "For my part, I am not willing to go against destiny or divinity; nor am I willing to curse your brother to a solitary existence. I didn't think you were, either - or have I misjudged you?"

Izuna settled into a mulish silence, and Madara was thankful for it. His headache was bad enough without Izuna's shouting adding to it. Aunt Miwa reached out to pour another cup of tea, and fumbled at the teapot, off-center from where she'd placed it earlier. Madara silently helped her pour another cup, and then poured one for himself. He found himself peering into the bottom of his cup, as though sub-par green tea could give him the answers he sought.

"Just... why him?" Madara exclaimed suddenly. It had been bothering him since the revelation this morning. "That's what I don't understand! Why would the gods choose him as a destined partner for me? I've never said a word to him thus far!"

Aunt Miwa sighed very deeply and raised her right hand to rub at her brow. For just an instant, a vision of Madara's mother was superimposed on top of his aunt's figure. She'd performed the same action, day after day, year after year, always wondering why her eldest son was so thick-headed.Can't I have a sensible one? she'd ask, eyes staring up the at the ceiling beseechingly. All I have is this one and his brother, and they both have the sense Amaterasu gave a particularly stubborn goose.

"An arranged marriage is, by definition, not a love match," Aunt Miwa said instead. "You don't need to know him, you don't need to speak with him, and you certainly don't need to understand why you're tied together. It might be as simple as the gods getting sick of our constant warfare, like those thrice-damned priests always say; that's the only way I can justify it."

"You weren't saying that earlier," Izuna muttered.

"Shut up," Miwa said, voice carefully even. "Things were different, earlier. I assumed the person at the other end of Madara's thread was one of the clan, perhaps a branch house member he'd never spoken to before."

Madara felt a strangled laugh rise up from his diaphragm, and he ruthlessly suppressed it. "Well, you were half right: it was a person I've never spoken to before. And now I need him to agree to marry me without explaining my sudden change of heart."

"This is bullshit," Izuna repeated, his face set into a stubborn frown. "We're shinobi, not penny-pinching merchants. Arranged marriages are stupid as hell, and marriages arranged by heaven, if any such place exists, are especially stupid."

"You won't get any argument from me, nephew," Aunt Miwa replied.

the beginning

"Out of the way!"

His mother's voice rings across the battlefield like a bell, and almost despite himself, Izuna turns his head in the direction of her cry, trying to see where she is. There! On the right, near the Kaguya clan's right flank, next to that monster they unchain every so often and let out to rampage on the battlefield, killing foe and friend alike. Madara is ten feet away, on his knees, trying to get back on his feet as the beast reached for him-

Izuna can only watch in horror as the creature reaches for his brother's chest, bones already sprouting from the skin, gleaming in the light. Too fast, too fast, even with the Sharingan Madara can't move any faster - something is wrong with his right leg -

And then Mother leaps forward and slams into the berserker from the side, almost knocking it over entirely. One overhand strike with her sword, then another - Mother keeps hammering at the beast until her sword breaks in half, then leaps away to a safer distance. Izuna joins her there, a trail of lesser Kaguya clansmen bleeding and dying behind him, and together, with the smoothness of long practice, they begin making the seals for the mass fireball technique as the creature stumbles around, discombobulated by all the hard blows.

"Now!" Mother snaps, and they release the jutsu together, white-hot flame streaming from their mouths.

But the berserker doesn't flinch, no matter how much flame they pour on. The sickly scent of burnt flesh rises, but Izuna is used to it: it's been a near constant background scent his whole life. He'd be a poor Uchiha if he couldn't work through it. Izuna can feel sweat streaming down his face from the exertion and his mother no doubt looks similar: it's been a long battle and they're both about tapped dry. Despite their effort, the Kaguya's pet monster continues to regenerate, new skin and muscle regrowing as the old is burned away.

Just when Izuna can feel his chakra run out, his brother smoothly steps in. Well, not so smoothly; he has a pretty bad limp. Izuna doesn't have the time to evaluate Madara any further - the battle is essentially won for the Uchiha, but the berserker isn't retreating with the rest of his clan - probably doesn't even know how to. He just keeps walking into the flame, still focused on them above all else. Izuna doesn't bother to swear - it's a waste of precious breath - but he puts his sword up into the guard position and begins circling to the right, mother doing the same from the left with her wakizashi. Thankfully, the monster is still too focused on the source of its pain to pay any attention to either of them.

And then suddenly, shockingly... Madara's stream of fire sputters before going out entirely. Time's up - Izuna roars as he thrusts with his sword, but the berserker doesn't even flinch, just parries his blade with one armored arm. The blow sends a shockwave up Izuna's arms, and he nearly drops his sword, fumbling it as he tries once again to hit the bastard. It's no use, though - Izuna sees that clearly. The monster is too fast, still possessed of the freakish endurance and power of the Shikotsumyaku bloodline limit, and Madara, yet again, is trapped by his own lameness. Why couldn't you retreat, you fool?, Izuna screams in his mind, but he knows why. Madara would no sooner leave his last living family than Izuna would, or Mother herself.

Izuna drops the sword in the dust, makes one final leap into the path of the Kaguya clan's pet monster. He doesn't think I'm sorry because he's not, and anyway, his brother would make the exact same choice if were in the same position. But just as he reaches the point of no return, Izuna feels a twist and yank on his left arm, and he ends up crashing into Madara instead.

From his brother's arms, Izuna can only watch, unblinking as his mother-

His mother is-

Surely, she'll-

No, it-

No!

after the beginning

"The Magenkyō Sharingan is both an evolution of the Sharingan and a radical break. The base abilities are all extensions of the skills you've already obtained, just at a higher level - but each individual eye has it's unique powers and abilities. You'll need to do extensive experimentation to discover what yours is," Miwa lectured, leaning against an old and very comfortable willow. The susurrus of the wind in the leaves was pleasant, as wass the shade from the unseasonable heat of late spring.

"And what was yours, Aunt?" Izuna again. Miwa had noticed he did a lot of the talking for both himself and his brother. Miwa didn't know them well enough to tell if that was good or bad.

"Time dilation genjutsu," Miwa replied, shrugging. "Only an instant in physical time, but it feels many times longer to the target. I found it excellent for both interrogation and teaching."

"Teaching?" That was the older boy's voice this time. Interesting; most Uchiha, Miwa had found, were rarely interested in the non-offensive capabilities of their most precious gift. In this, at least, Madara was proving himself at least a little bit different.

"Imagine: an advanced lesson with a student that goes on as long as necessary, but only takes a moment of time," Miwa stated in a neutral tone. "I found it useful in imparting certain advanced skills to some of the Clan."

"That's amazing," he breathed in awe, and Miwa couldn't help the small smile creasing her lips.

before the engagement

"Ah, here's a cheerful thought: at least you've never tried to kill him," Izuna said, full of false cheer. "Because I really think there's no way you could convince Senju Tobirama to marry you, short of Sharingan-induced genjutsu, if you'd ever personally crossed blades."

"No, I'm only the leader of a clan he's spent his whole life hating, presumably dedicated to our complete destruction," Madara replied sarcastically.

"Yes, well, we've covered this already," Aunt Miwa sighed. "I would rather we turn our thoughts to more productive lines of inquiry, like what possible envoy we can send to the Senju that will allow us to open talks instead of restart hostilities."

Izuna turns away, but not before Madara sees the stubborn look on his face. Wonderful; he'll be no help at all, not that Madara expected any assistance from that quarter. Miwa, on the other hand, looks to be seriously thinking of a way to open a channel with the Senju. Madara doesn't expect much from her, either. She's an old woman: trying to find a way to make peaceful contact with the Senju must be killing her inside. It's certainly something she's never in her life had considered seriously before today.

Madara's gaze drifted across the decorative screens, eyes unfocused and unseeing. No shinobi clan would represent them in this matter, not after what happened to the Nishihara clan when they attempted to negotiate a cease-fire some decades ago, but direct engagement was...risky. More than risky, if Madara was honest with himself. Hashirama had extended his hands in peace multiple times since his ascension as leader of the Senju clan; for Madara to take it now, but with such a condition attached…

Yes. Taking his brother away - that might very well trigger Hashirama's deeply buried temper.

after the beginning

"And what about this?" Madara questioned. Miwa once again repressed the urge to sigh. From his tone, the boy is probably pointing something out something newly visible to his vision, but she'll be damned if she'll guess what it is.

"There's a red thread tied to Brother's left ankle," Izuna volunteered, barely suppressed laughter in his voice. That one never missed a thing - another good sign.

"Oh, is that all? I'm sure your mother told you boys how she and your father were married," Miwa said dismissively. It's only after the words leave her mouth that she considered the reminder of their recent loss too blunt, but better here, in private, than later, in public. Clutching grief close never did anyone in their family much good.

"You're joking," Madara said flatly. "She said she was introduced to Father at the river shrine by a relation who'd tutored him in genjutsu. She says she knew as soon as he spoke to her, that it was fated."

"Who do you think introduced them?" Miwa questioned slyly.

Both brothers are utterly silent for a moment, and then-

"Are you serious?" Madara near-shouted. "I thought Mother was just being sentimental!"

before the engagement

"Merchants," Madara said suddenly. Izuna turned back around, and his aunt turned her head in Madara's direction, a curious expression on her face.

"We all know merchants have arranged marriages," Madara elaborated. "They must have someone to negotiate them, as well; I never met a people as concerned with contracts as merchants."

"A nakōdo," Aunt Miwa mutters. "I was hired by one as a young woman - a marriage she had arranged had fallen through, and the bridegroom's family decided to take their disappointment out on her."

Izuna sighed heavily before turning back around. "So merchants need an intermediary to set up their weddings, just like they need an intermediary to kill their business rivals. How will that help us?"

Madara almost resisted the urge to glare at his younger brother. Almost. "We hire one to act as our representative in the matter. You're right, we're shinobi, not merchants: we have no experience in this. I have no issue with hiring an expert to show us the way."

Izuna snorted. "Yes, because civilians are so willing to work for common murderers like us."

"That," Aunt Miwa said reprovingly, "is a case of doing our research ahead of time, and finding a matchmaker who is, perhaps, a little less established than most. I find the young have more appetite for a challenge - and more to prove to their elders."

Madara and Izuna had little to say to that.

after the beginning

"In a way, she was," Miwa replied, already bored. "I know it's been a long time since we've had more than one or two Magenkyō users in a generation, but surely the old stories still circulate."

"See the truth of all things is very different from the gods are real," Izuna said in a biting tone.

Miwa scoffed, utterly incensed. "Boy, chakra is a gift from the gods; of course they are real. I don't know if Yuè Lǎo is one of them, but I can tell you this: for certain the red threads of fate exist, and they always connect two people who are meant to be together."

It was Izuna's turn to scoff in disbelief, but he fell silent when Miwa pointed one finger at him. "One of your duties, now that you've awakened the Magenkyō, is to see which of our clansmen have red strings around their ankles and arrange for them to meet their destined partners as soon as possible. That one of you has a partner of your own does not change things-"

"The hell it doesn't!" Madara hissed at her. "What the hell am I supposed to do with a wife?"

"I said partner, not wife," Miwa snapped at him, finally losing what little remained of her patience. "And you'll do what your parents did, which is marry that person, and live a long, happy life together. What the hell kind of question is that?"

Madara fell silent, and from the oppressive aura emanating from his direction, Miwa is certain the boy was sulking.

"...a long, happy life together?" Izuna questioned, softer this time.

Miwa blinked a little and then nodded firmly. "A long, happy life together. Is that not what every marriage ought to be?"

Originally posted on AO3 on 8/20/16.

You may note that this is a different interpretation of the history of the Magenkyo Sharingan. I can well believe that Madara and Izuna were the first people to figure out the weird game of "swap the eyes!" to level up their magic to the SUPER-DUPER LEVEL, but it's pretty hard for me to believe that they were the first people in their family to develop the Magenkyo at all.

Obviously, the abilities are slightly different, too ;)

Next chapter: Hashirama receives an unexpected counter-offer, the Senju react with the predictable riot, Mito is the sole voice of reason, and Tobirama is the only one who doesn't know quite what to think.