This is quite self indulgent. Please enjoy.

I do not own Naruto. I own only the plot and any original characters.


one

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sometimes, the most precious treasures are found in the most unexpected of places

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This - Konoha - was entirely new to him, and even though it'd also been his dream, he wasn't sure if it was what he actually wanted.

Madara never thought he actually belonged in the village the way Hashirama wanted him to, and his unease no doubt made its way into the hearts of his clansmen as well. They built themselves a compound on the edge of the newly founded village and had mostly kept to themselves.

He was young, barely in his early twenties. He'd been shouldering an entire clan for years, had been born and raised in the middle of war. Madara didn't know peace, and he didn't know how to rule a clan that didn't have to fight all the time.

It isn't that he ran away from his responsibilities, no - the Uchiha clan head had been raised better than that, and he always did his work diligently. There were things he did delegate, though, and they mostly involved civilian affairs, buildings and structures, as well as the archives. Those he left to the clan elders, who also needed to be busy enough to stop pushing him to get married, but not too busy that they nagged at him.

Madara didn't know how to act within a peaceful village, and so he was out of it whenever the opportunity came.

The gossiping ability of the Elders truly isn't to be underestimated. It'd all been a he said she said kind of thing, but some clansman had been seen in a community not far from Konoha, frequenting the Red Lights District there, and rumour had it that a child had been born.

And, well. It was his duty as clan head to oversee such things.

During the day there wasn't anything special about the place. If you didn't know to look for certain clues, you wouldn't even know it was such a place. Come sunset, though, the red lanterns are lit, and beautiful women flaunt themselves wherever you look.

They are beautiful, he can't say they aren't. Their kimonos are colourful and vivid, layers upon layers of fine clothing that men no doubt have fun ripping it off their bodies.

It's almost completely dark out when he sees it. It's in a narrow alley down the darkest road on the district, and Madara's sure he only caught it because of his eyes, already used to low lighting. He steps closer and realizes there's a small figure playing with it.

The paper ball is red, bigger and brighter than the lanterns. It goes from one small hand to the other in a silent and simple game, and as he blocks the last few rays of sun from entering that alleyway, the ball stops.

'She's an Uchiha.'

There's no doubt in his mind. Even if one might argue that pale skin and dark hair are far from uncommon, Uchiha know each other. They know how to recognize each other, and that's an intrinsic thing. It doesn't come from how familiar their chakra feels, warm enough to burn. It doesn't come from the way they move, all grace and deadliness no matter if they are civilian or shinobi. It's not their physical appearance, and it's not an exterior sign.

Uchiha hide their red love behind a thick layer of black indifference, and it shines in their eyes. For those who know to look for it, it's as bright as the flames they're so well-known for, even if others might not see anything beyond dark pools.

"What is your name, child?"

"You should introduce yourself before you ask for someone's name."

They've barely spoken half a dozen words to each other and he likes her already. By Heavens, she reminds him of Izuna, and his heart hurts for a moment.

(He's alone, but he prefers not to think about it.)

"I'm Madara."

"Hello. My name's Chiasa."

Names hold power, he knows. From this small exchange alone he makes up his mind - perhaps on a whim - and extends a hand to the small child crouched before him. The sun is long gone and the lanterns on the road behind him cast a mix of red and yellow on her pale face.

'How odd. It's evening, but there's sunlight.'

"Come with me."

It's not a question, but it's not a demand either. It's an invitation the child doesn't spend long thinking about.

"Okay."

Madara whisks Chiasa away from the Red Lights District on that autumn evening, but in the future they'll remember that alleyway as sunlit forever.

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Can you tell I may have a slight thing for the Uchiha clan because I sure as hell do. They deSERVE BETTER OKAY GET OFF MY DICK.