Summary: Instead of waking up on a battlefield as shinobi from all the nations stare at him with fear, he awakens to bird song and a cool spring breeze curling around his frame. MadaTobi Time Travel fix-it

so madara is now traveling with a caravan to the land of wind- I wonder how ThATS going to go?

ab·solve

v. sound off the sirens

While on the road, Yoshi takes the time to introduce him to the other merchants in the caravan. He helpfully explains that he sells luxury products, like silk and leather. His friend Yūki helps create jewelry with his wife who is, oddly enough, also named Yuki.

"I've tried getting their story out of them a hundred and one times!" Yoshi laughs, shaking his head as he urges the ox pulling along his cart. "All they do is look lovingly at each other and refuse to tell me."

Yoshi also mentions that his cousin is usually one of their regular traveling companions, but that he was currently waylaid at home. He had instead sent his son, Yoshirō, with their collection of homemade perfumes.

"Don't be put off if he doesn't speak with you much. This is his first time traveling alone without his father. A bit odd, that one, but he's sweet. I don't recommend startling him though. He frightens easy." Yoshi informs him, glancing back to the very last cart in their caravan. "He doesn't much like other people, though he tries his hardest to be as polite as he can be."

The last two merchants are actually twins: Yōko and Yūko. Madara eyes them as Yoshi points to them, taking in the garb. They wear large hats reminiscent of the standard Akatsuki uniform and they are unknowingly making Madara far tenser than he wants to be.

"They own land with some pretty decent metal veins. Iron ore and whatnot. I've seen some of the swords they've made. They're only selling some of the refined ore on this trip, though. Don't want to tempt thieves more than they already are."

"What do you mean?" Madara asks.

"We haven't had any trouble while on Nara land, but a few months ago when we were heading to the Land of Wind, we were ambushed by some shinobi. They attacked my cousins' cart and got him in the side. It's why he's stuck at home and had to send Yoshirō with his perfumes."

That sounds...odd? Madara thinks, narrowing his eyes slightly. Why would a group of shinobi attack the perfume cart? Surely if they had been watching the group long enough to plan an ambush, they would know that one of the carts had workable metal as cargo?

"We're currently headed to a village just on the outskirts of the Land of Wind," Yoshi continues, unaware of Madara's sudden suspicions.

The group around him continues on their way, the ox pulled carts setting a steady pace of travel. Madara walked beside Yoshi's cart at the head of the caravan, turning down a ride but still willing enough to talk to the man.

"Where did the shinobi attack happen again?" Madara asks, still trying to wrap his head around what exactly a shinobi would want with civilian luxury items. Metal and leather would be useful, but Yoshi had said it was the perfume wagon that had been targeted. That made absolutely zero sense to Madara. No shinobi would willingly leave a scent trail behind, which means they wouldn't wear perfume.

"In the middle of our trip, somewhere in the Land of Rivers. We had stayed an extra day in Gurētobarē Village and had fallen behind schedule. We were trying to rush to get to the market before it opened," Yoshi explains. "I only got a glimpse of a couple of them. They were fast bastards!"

"And these shinobi went after perfume?" Madara asked, skeptical. He doesn't know how many times he's going to have to ask it before it makes sense to him.

"Ah," Yoshi chuckles. "You've caught us. These items aren't just the typical luxury items," Yoshi elaborates while pulling out a small square of fabric from his inner pocket and handing it over to Madara. Madara rubs his finger along the silk, surprised to find it far more durable than regular silk usually is. "You see," Yoshi continues, "we all specialize in shinobi luxury products. My silk and leather are reinforced with chakra. A secret family technique! Yūki and Yuki specialize in jewelry that can withstand attack elemental attacks. Young Yoshirō's father has Inuzuka ancestors and has developed a type of perfume that can confuse and disorient anyone tracking the person wearing it. The twins are rather talented at weapon smithing, but they mostly focus on gathering and selling metal to those that wish to form their own chakra weapons."

And that would do it, Madara thinks, stunned.

Madara finally realizes why they would ask a shinobi and not a samurai or regular guard to protect them and why a group of shinobi would attack a perfume cart. Whoever knows about the items being moved would certainly try and get their hands on these products. The theft of items that could benefit a shinobi clan was a common occurrence during this time. It still happened even after Konoha was formed, though it was usually by clans unaffiliated with the newly formed large shinobi hidden villages.

"We can usually protect ourselves from a bandit or two," Yoshi continues, taking back the square when Madara offers it, "but we are not, in any way, shinobi. I think I'm the one with the most chakra out of all of us and I'm nothing compared to even a shinobi child."

"Yeah, I can see why you've requested a shinobi guard," Madara admits, taking Yoshi's small laugh as an indicator for the conversation to be over.

Falling back to walk towards the end of the caravan, Madara reaches into the bag he has tied to the obi wrapped around his waist. As carefully as he can, he pulls out the two lemons Yasu had handed him earlier that morning. He struggles for a moment before he forces his thumbnail into the rhine of the lemon, successfully pulling it apart. Juices squirt around his invading fingers, but he ignores it, taking in a deep breath before bring the lemon halves up to his head and squeezing. Cold juice rains down onto his scalp and he quickly starts rubbing it into his hair. He does the same with the other lemon, storing both ruined lemons in the bottom of his bag for the moment. He would pull the seeds from the fruit later. He might even be able to trade them with a farmer for something useful later on.

His short hair feels sticky across his forehead and he pointedly ignores the odd look he he's getting from Yoshi's young cousin, who keeps glancing back at him. He supposes a teen like Yoshirō must find this mindless traveling boring, especially as he's the youngest one here and without his father to act as a buffer. Madara carefully follows the caravan, making sure to walk in the sun as they go along. He decides to leave the lemon juice in his hair for the entire day; his hair is far darker than Yasu's was and, if he has any hope of the henna mask working, he needs his hair as light as he can realistically make it.

The rest of the first day oftraveling goes much the same as their morning started, the group of friendly travelers chatting among themselves. It would take two weeks to reach the Land of Wind at the pace they were going. It annoys Madara slightly, as he could travel there much faster on his own, but there wasn't anything he could do. They might sell shinobi items, but they themselves were civilians. They would travel at whatever pace they wished.

They eventually stop to set up camp next to a river bed an hour or two before sunset. He makes sure no one is in the area setting up an ambush, before he goes down the river a few meters, grimacing as he takes some of the chilly water and rinses the sticky substance from his hair. He checks the container of henna, carefully reading the instructions Yasu had left on a small note. It seems like he would need some of the lemon juice, as well as warm water. He carefully sets the lemon halves in with the container of henna, humming slightly as he cups some water in his hands. He closes his eyes, concentrating. It takes only a few seconds before the water in his hands starts to rapidly heat up. Pleased, he lets it drop into the henna container. He mixes it together with a stray stick, adding a bit more heated water before letting the mixture sit and thicken.

He leaves it at the river bank, doing a simple patrol of the area. A large tent has been set up at the campsite when he returns, the merchants sat around a crackling fire.

"Ah, Fujio-san! I see Yasu-san has been sharing hair care tips with you as well? He once convinced me that I would look good with green hair—I didn't, mind you — but we both got a good laugh out of it!" Yoshi shares as soon as he sees him, openly admiring whatever color Madara's hair has turned.

Madara snorts at the story, believing every word of it. Yasu seems like the kind of man who could convince anyone of anything, if only simply to get the man to stop his flirting for a moment or two.

"Will you be setting up your bed roll in the tent with us, Fujio-san?" Yuki asked, her head resting against her husband's shoulder.

"No," Madara replied politely, giving her a bland smile. "I'll set up outside to keep an eye on everything."

"If you get cold, there are some extra blankets in our cart," Yūko offers from her place next to her twin.

"Thank you," Madara responds. He quickly made sure everyone was settled in before he headed back to the river bank. The mixture had cooled while he was gone, so he very carefully starts channeling chakra into his hands, converting it into hot air. He was wary of the clay container breaking under the heat, but it withstood the steady temperature well enough. Once the paste was hot, Madara carefully tests it on his wrist before nodding to himself and scooping some of the paste out, rubbing it into his hair. It was dark now, so he couldn't see if he was missing any spots in his hair, but he was careful not to stain his forehead or his ears. He didnt need to be walking around with obvious dye spots; they would be a clear giveaway that he had changed his hair color.

He stays up for several more hours, telling the others goodnight as they individually headed into the group tent. He finally washes the henna out of his hair when the crescent moon is high in the sky, the cool water now freezing as it sends goosebumps along his skin. He opts out of using his bedroll for the night, instead making his way onto a branch that hung over the tent. He is the last one asleep and the first one awake when the early morning sunshine startles him out of his slumber. He lets out a large yawn, still tired, but he immediately goes to patrol the area once more.

Pleased when he confirms they are still alone in the area, Madara takes advantage of the quiet morning and forces himself to clean off in the cold lake, scrubbing the dirt from his skin. He cleans his stained clothes at the same time, happy that he had woken up in the past wearing simple clothes: a short dark purple yukata with a black obi and baggy black pants. He dries himself off with some heated wind, chakra dancing as it is once more at full capacity. He smiles slightly, enjoying the feeling, before he also quickly dries his clothes, not wanting to be caught standing around naked by the caravan he was protecting. He dresses and finally takes the time to check his reflection in the water.

The sun has finally risen enough to give the slowly moving water enough to light to reflect his image. His image was distorted by the ripples, but he was able to at least identify the color his hair had been dyed. Where his hair had once been a blue-tinted black, it was now a dark auburn color that looks almost purple under the right lighting. Satisfied with the results, Madara returns to the camp, greeting a yawning Yoshirō as he messily ate the dried fish his cousin has provided him. Madara takes his own share, patiently waiting for the others before they finally depart, once more on their way. He gets several compliments on his new hair, but he always demurred when anyone asks him why he changed the color.

The rest of the first week of their trip goes much the same as the first day, a boring journey surrounded by inane conversation. Yoshi is kind enough to ask after him every morning over some breakfast, but for the most part Madara keeps to the edges of the group, ever watchful of any attackers that might be persuing them. He is still getting used to his new hair, always spooked whenever he sees himself in the reflection that a water source provides.

He's been taking the time to make plans in his head, calculating the funds he's going to need to purchase the things he's planning on using. His father had been awful with the Uchiha clan finances and it had fallen to Madara to take care of the money the clan made. While the Uchiha had always been a known force, they had had to find ways around having less money than the other larger clans. Every clan member, regardless of gender or position, had to learn to sow and cook, activities that were usually left to women or servants in richer clans. The Uchiha didn't have the funds to keep up with most gender roles. Madara, while the clan leader, had kept the attitude of brushing off gender roles, but still improving the money situation. The Uchiha under him had been able to eat every day, something that his father couldn't claim. Suffice to say, Madara was good at managing money.

They're on the third day of his second week with them and were only a half of a day away from the border shared between the Land of Fire and the Land of Rivers. No long stops were had, Yoshi telling Madara that they didn't want to chance being late once more. They are only three days away from the reported location of their stop, when Madara's heartbeat picks up, his eyes sharp as he picks up his pace. He approaches Yoshi's cart at the head of the caravan, calmly telling him to call for a break. Yoshi looks at him, confused, as they had already agreed on prearranged times for breaks. Madara shoots him a look, causally looking around the grassy valley they have found themselves in, the dip in the earth surrounded by high peaked mountains. Catching the hint, he cheerfully announces to the group that it's time for lunch.

Madara enhances his senses with chakra, wary, and it's only a second longer before he has to redirect several kunai with a stray rock. Madara readies his stance, standing in between the caravan and the attackers. It's when he sees the Senju typical Vajra bared on the three shinobi that he feels his heart plummet into his stomach.

madara has purpley-auburn hair and is confronted, head on, with his past. :D also sorry for any weird edits, i did this entire thing on mobile lol