The Calm Before the Storm

Hashirama

I put my hand against the tree on my right side, weaving in and out of the winding branches. The forest I was walking through was more like a jungle, but because it had been raining for a long, long time most of the forests around that area were rainy and marshy. If I stayed in one place for too long, my shoes would sink into the mud and the grass had grown so tall it was up to my knees. The trees themselves loomed high over me stretching out toward the dark gray sky beyond. I noticed a subtle rippling of light up there.

I have to hurry, it might begin storming again...

I followed my own footsteps, the path I normally took down to the river bank and I quickly came upon the single individual I had been striving all that way to meet.

"Madara."

He lifted his head but didn't turn around.

"I almost thought you weren't coming."

"Sorry, my little brother held me up." I explained. "He's been acting kind of weird lately... But never mind, you ready to spar?"

He said nothing.

"Hey, you're always going on and on about me being depressed and now here you are staring out at the river like a black blob." I remarked.

I nudged him with my foot.

"Finally realize you suck at Taijutsu?"

He suddenly turned around and grabbed my leg, the one I'd been pressing against him, and yanked me down. I lunged forward with the leg he was grabbing, my left leg, and planted my right foot in the dirt to avoid falling over. He let go of my leg, quickly hiking up his elbow and stopping just a centimeter below my crotch. There was fire in his eyes. He smirked at me.

"I could destroy you right now." He said.

"Okay, okay, wait! You don't suck!"

He grinned.

"Aaaaaand?"

"And you're awesome! The best ninja around!"

He relaxed his arm.

"You better believe I am."

I sighed and plopped down cross leggedly in the dirt next to him. He tilted his chin toward the sky, looking at the impending darkness.

"You ever wonder what the point of all this is?" he asked.

"All what? That ugly mop of mold growing your head?" I asked, digging my hand into his jet black locks and playfully shoving him.

He didn't even react. Our relationship was that of playful banter. We often spent hours just going back and forth and trying to see who could create the swiftest and most effective one-liner. I normally won because Madara wasn't necessarily comical in nature, but that day, he wasn't even trying. I stared at him, opting to take him seriously.

"You mean all the war? And all the fighting?"

He shook his head.

"Yeah. But I also mean life itself."

Thunder successfully managed to sound. The birds in the forest behind us cawed and flew up into the sky.

"Life...itself?" I asked.

There were times where Madara was so abstract in thinking, so beyond his years, that he lost even me. I blinked, watching him. For the first time, he turned and looked at me.

"When was the first time you've seen someone die?" he asked.

That question... I never even asked myself that.

I rummaged through my brain searching for a memory and a wisp of one floated through. I looked up at the threatening sky.

"My mother died during my childbirth." I told him.

I picked at the grass.

"But still... It's not like I saw that. There were other people, too, when I was three or four years old. I remember seeing dead bodies getting buried. But after so long, everything just muddles together..."

A dim strip of lightning pulsated through the clouds.

"But anyway, how does this relate to today?" I asked him.

He shook his head.

"I was thinking about the first person who I ever saw die. He...wasn't handling a paper bomb properly and..."

Boom.

"That happens all the time." I told him. "Even in my clan... I asked my father to raise the age of paper bomb bearing but..."

"You dare defy me!? How will they defend themselves if they are denied even one weapon?!"

"That'll never happen. If one clan does it, that doesn't mean all the others will. It'll put the kids in that clan at a disadvantage." Madara explained.

Ugh... You sound like my father.

"I thought you were on my side!" I pointed out.

"Not if you come up with stupid plans!" he said elbowing me in the ribs.

We both laughed softly but my brain was churning, picking up on subtle nuances in the conversation. The real meaning behind his words.

I slowly realized I was unlocking a thought I didn't even know I had.

"You know, sometimes, I think that maybe war is just the natural state of things and that maybe for humans, peace is what is really abnormal." I pondered. "Like maybe war exists everywhere and we should just shut up and accept it."

Madara had been rolling one of his skipping stones around in his hands and when I said that, he clutched it hard.

That's...too far.

"But then I just get over myself." I said, laughing. "You know I say depressing things too much."

He tossed his stone up and caught it, then up and down, up, down, again and again in a rhythm. Slowly, he reopened his mouth.

"I think of that all the time." He confessed. "Like maybe humans are all selfish and aggressive, and all they know is fighting and killing."

I shook my head.

"Not all of them." I said quietly.

He paused, staring at me, and then sighed.

"Maybe the only way to find peace is to...escape humanity." He said, throwing the stone up and out.

It landed in the lake at our feet with an echoing: Thwock!

A shock of lighting shot across the sky and then crackle of thunder happened quickly afterwards. I could hear the rain falling in distant places already.

Just out off of a whim, more than anything, I reached over and punched him the shoulder. As I expected, he swiftly hit me back. I kicked him and then rolled backward out of the way quick enough for him not to get me. He lunged for me, arms wrapping around my waist, and pulling me down the bank. The rain poured over us as we wrestled each other, rolling around in what was, by then, mud until we reached the water's edge.

"You're such a child!" Madara exclaimed, while shoving me down.

I just grinned, glad I succeeded in annoying him, even if it was just momentarily.

We finally rolled to a stop, with the rain pouring down furiously, and I pinned him down. My head blocked the rain from falling onto his face. His eyes seemed to travel to the sky behind me. Thunder boomed again.

"Sometimes, I wish I really could just escape." He muttered.

I pinched his cheek and sneered when he batted my hand away.

"This is our escape." I explained to him. "No one can find us here."

He sat up, simultaneously pushing me off of him.

"I meant escape and never come back." He said quietly.

We were drenched in the rain. We both got up and ran to the base of a tree which shielded us from a good amount of the water. As I watched the darkening sky, something occurred to me.

My father could return home early in weather like this...

"I gotta get back home." I said, shaking the water out of my hair.

I turned and began my long trek back through the jungle.

"Already?" he called. "You just got here."

"Be here tomorrow, I'll come back." I promised.

He turned his face up to the sky which promptly flashed with lightning in response.

"...Okay." Was all he said.

Madara

"Where have you been?!"

I shook the water out of my hair and said nothing.

"Madara, I'm speaking to you."

"Training." I mumbled.

She grabbed my shoulder and pulled me around.

"You know how I feel about you going about outside of the clan territory alone!"

I smacked her hand away.

"I'm the leader of an entire platoon of boys and men." I reminded her. "I'm not a child."

She mashed her lips together into a thin line, the way she normally did when she was angry.

"You're eleven years old. Show your elders some respect!"

I'm almost twelve.

"Not when you don't show me any respect!" I retorted.

There was a creak behind us. We both turned to see my father walking into the room.

"Is there a problem?"

She crossed her arms.

"Tajima, our son here thinks he's allowed to just cavort around outside of the territory all day long without telling people what he's doing, where he's going or whom he's going with."

"I wasn't going with anyone!" I protested.

Then I glared at her and crossed my arms.

"Why don't you go harass Izuna or something?"

She opened her mouth, probably about to scold me for disrespect again but my father cut her off swiftly.

"Well..." he said, casually crossing his right leg in front of his left. "Our son is a young man now, Ayane. He wants to explore. I think we should give him the freedom to do so."

I could see the veins in her wrists standing out. She was clenching her fists.

"He's eleven years old, Tajima!" she exclaimed.

Almost twelve.

"He hasn't even come of age yet!"

"Come of Age" was a term Uchiha elders used to separate children with the Sharingan from children without it. I was the first platoon leader in Uchiha history who hadn't come of age yet but it didn't matter. I was the Clan Head's eldest son. I had privileges others didn't.

"As I recall, he's almost twelve now." My father reminded her. "Aren't you?"

I looked up at my father with more open eyes.

"Yes." I replied.

"When I was around his age, I went on hundreds of training missions alone. Actually, one time I spent almost two weeks away, finding my own food and keeping myself safe. It's how you become a man."

He smiled softly called forth by the memories. My Mother's hands slid onto my shoulders protectively.

"You can't be serious." She whispered.

He shook his head.

"Madara's the most mature boy in this entire clan and even better than that, he's my son. He has the jurisdiction to do what he wants... Even if that means taking a long-term training mission."

Long-term training mission?

Suddenly, a world of opportunities opened to me.

I could go... And maybe I could take Hashirama with me! An entire two weeks with him? That would be...

"I won't allow it."

I stiffened.

I really don't want to be disrespectful to you Mother but you leave me no choice.

I opened my mouth but my father beat me to it.

"You have no choice, Ayane." My father told her. "His word supersedes yours."

There was nothing she could say after that. It was a startling truth. In the Uchiha clan, women who were bearing children or who had already done so did not fight. They stayed at home and provided for their younger children and taught their female younglings medical and house care. These women had virtually no rights to an opinion. And in opposition, when an Uchiha boy achieved a position of leadership, or came of age, he reigned superiority over all civilians and was allowed to have the last word against them. Even if that included his own mother.

She let go of my shoulders and turned around. Her long dark brown hair cascaded down her back in ocean-like waves. Her dark blue eyes which had been bright with the fire of mothering settled into dullness. She left us, heading in the direction of the room I shared with Izuna and not saying another word.

"You shouldn't be so hard on your mother either, Madara." My father spoke up as he headed toward the front door.

He picked up his sword holster that lay next to the door and fitted it on.

"You should understand a woman's feelings as well... Or how are you ever to get married?"

And with that he pulled the door open and left me in the darkness of the front hall. The silence of the house was eerie. Especially on that day. That particular day. Everyone was on edge that day. It was a normal occurrence in the house. I knew why she was upset. She knew why I was standoffish. We both knew why my father was siding with me. We all knew why the other was doing everything, we just pretended not to because we didn't want to open our ears to anyone else's pain. All for the sake of that stupid day.

The anniversary...

I shared a room with Izuna but I knew my mother was in there and I didn't want to hear her voice so I wandered through the hall and toward the other bedrooms, the ones that had been empty for so long, I barely remembered when they'd been occupied.

On the outside of one door there were two names.

Taiga and Tsubasa.

My elder brothers...

Taiga had died when I was only six years old. He was the eldest in the family, leading a platoon just like I was then but unlike me, he had unlocked a form of the Sharingan. It was only one tomoe in each eye but unlocked nonetheless. Even though he had come of age, he was very impatient and rather belligerent in nature, acting first and thinking later. He led ten ninja, five boys, two women and three men, into enemy territory off of a simple rumor that they didn't guard their weapons facility properly. He was thinking to ambush them and instead, they were the ones that ended up getting ambushed. The entire place was tagged with paper bombs. A few of his subjugates barely escaped and came back to tell us the news. We couldn't even retrieve his body because the enemy was still guarding it and as the others explained, the blast was so powerful, there probably wouldn't be anything to find. He was ten.

Tsubasa perished later that year. He went on a mission with my father to retrieve some Uchiha documents that the Senju had stolen. They went there and fought hard and got the documents and came all the way back with no issue. It wasn't until he set foot in the house that my mother noticed it. Tsubasa's fingers were a deathly blue color. They had been fighting medical ninja, very skilled ones at that. Word was spreading that some of them had the ability to spread disease just as quickly as they could stop it. My father took responsibility for it immediately, ashamed at not having noticed it. It was a miracle that he hadn't infected anyone else in that time but my father decided that what had been a weapon against us could be used in our favor. Tsubasa was given one last mission of his entire life: go downstream to the Uzumaki clan and infect them all with his disease. I remember watching them send him away, he wasn't allowed to hug or touch anyone. Not allowed within seven feet of anyone. The blueness had already spread up his arms and to parts of his chest. In his eyes... It looked like he'd already died. He nodded at me before he left.

"You're the eldest now." He told me. "Protect them."

Izuna and Itsuya were standing behind me, crying and crying. But I was older by then, almost seven, so I wasn't allowed to cry. Mother, Father and I watched him leave with dry eyes. Tsubasa was eight.

Four weeks later, we got the news that he'd passed before he could get to the village, we said nothing, thought nothing, expressed nothing.

"Is that so?" my father had asked, before getting up and leaving.

My mother stared at the table blankly, continuing to stitch together a pair of pants that I'd ripped early that week. And in my heart, I vowed to keep my promise to my brother. Keep the last two safe. But in the end, I wasn't even able to do that.

I walked back down the hallway glancing up at the pictures hanging on the wall. There was one of the entire family. Taiga had dark brown hair like my mother's and he grew it long so it was tied into a bun on the back of his head with a couple of curly locks framing his face on either side. Tsubasa also had brown hair, though it was a bit lighter. It was straight like my mother's and we wore it cut short in the back and long in the front. Though, the longer locks still didn't reach past his chin. They both had onyx eyes like my father. While Taiga and Tsubasa looked almost identical except for their hairstyles and Izuna and I looked very similar, Itsuya was the odd one out.

I paused in front of my bedroom door which was slightly ajar. It sounded like Izuna was crying. I peeked into the room.

Mother sat on the bed with Izuna curled up on her lap and hugged him to her chest.

"I keep having nightmares." He said tearfully.

"Shhh." She whispered."It's okay, I'm here."

But he continued sniffling and choking on his own tears. She hummed a soft tune to quiet him down. I pressed my back against the door frame and stared blankly at the wall in front of me. There were three beds in our shared bedroom. The one next to Izuna's had been empty for almost a full three years. My vision blurred in front of my eyes and I was taken back to the memory I'd been trying to repress the entire day.

"We get to go with you and Dad this time!?" Izuna exclaimed.

I sighed, tugging on my ears.

"Yes. But not if you guys are loud like that."

"Shhh!" Itsuya said to Izuna.

Izuna covered his mouth with both hands and looked up at me with apologetic eyes. I couldn't suppress the smile that stretched across my face.

"Come." I said, motioning to them.

Father often took me on training trips with just the two of us. It was around the time he was considering giving me my own platoon. I was nine. Around the same age Taiga was when he became in charge of his own. My father was eager to have another son to lead since Tsubasa had died before he came of age. It was most likely his hastiness that allowed him to give me leadership even though I still hadn't come of age.

We found a place in the deep woods to practice. Father was showing Itsuya and Izuna how to gather chakra while I was walking up trees and on branches trying to show them how to keep their chakra focused on a single body part.

"You also have to be aware of how to handle weapons." My father told them.

He tossed them both swords which they immediately went at each other with. My father rushed over to them and hit them both hard on the head with the handle of the sword.

"Never run at anyone you don't intend to kill!" he scolded. "Practice alone with weapons first."

They rubbed the sore spots on their heads and frowned, ashamed of being yelled at.

"Madara, watch their sparring." He told me. "I need to send a message downstream."

"Yes, father."

I heard their swords clinking against trees and branches behind me. I kept them in my line of sight and practiced on something else momentarily. I had seen my father do something interesting with his kunai knives, flipping it up with his foot, catching it with his right hand and then lunging. I attempted to do it a couple times, nearly impaling myself with it. Then I turned away from them, cursing myself for drinking so much water earlier that day, and then walked off near the bushes to be alone. Less than five seconds later, a voice popped up behind me.

"Madara, what are you doing?"

I stiffened and tried to block him out of my mind but it wouldn't work.

"Izu, give me some privacy." I said in an agitated manner.

Izuna snickered, poking me in the back.

"Oh yeah, I forgot you always get really embarrassed when you have to pee."

I blushed, feeling slightly inadequate compared to my baby brother.

"I don't even have to go anymore." I lied, retying my pants.

"Izu, Mada!"

We both turned.

"Look! I'm gonna tie the paper bomb to the kunai knife like how Dad did!"

"Itsu, you have to learn chakra control before-"

But then my voice stuttered as my eyes lay upon him.

Itsuya was standing there trying to tie the paper to the knife.

Strangely, at that moment, his difference became glaringly clear to me. The reason he was the odd ball in the family was because unlike the rest of us, his hair was very curly and coarse. He wore it long, so long that he often cried out from accidently sitting on his own curls. Because of it, people consistently assumed my parents had four sons and a daughter. He was also incredibly extroverted for an Uchiha. Very talkative and excited. He was born very, very small and initially, they thought he would die. Instead of dying, he just grew very slowly. He was the same height and even slightly thinner than Izuna even though he was a good two years older than him. His last difference was his eyes. He alone had inherited my mother's blue eyes. They shined up at us both as he thrust the kunai knife into the air triumphantly.

"Itsuya! Drop that!"

He wasn't experienced so he couldn't see. He had just been gathering chakra in his palms, but by touching the paper bomb right afterwards, he unknowingly spread chakra through it and...activated it.

He looked at the bomb, finally noticing it. And it seemed to happen in slow motion. His eyes widened and then, blue and bright, they looked at me. Izuna was about to walk toward him, completely unaware. I grabbed his arm, turned on my heel and dove into the dirt. The resulting explosion was louder than any I'd heard in my life. Such close proximity. A wave of scarring heat I'll never forget washed over us. Then a jarring silence.

My ears were ringing. I slowly rolled over, wiping what I thought was my own spit off my shirt but as I touched it I realized it was blood, and not my own. I looked at the spot Itsuya was just standing in. His right hand, which had been holding the bomb, was completely disintegrated along with the right leg. There was half a body. Just half.

"Itsu... It- I-" I whispered.

Hiccup.

I couldn't get the words out.

"Mother... Father..." I said instead. "Itsuya is... He..."

Hiccup.

The intact half of his body was trembling. I watched it bucking and spurting blood, one of his eyes still locked on me and suddenly, I lost control of what I'd been holding in all that time and a rush of warmth emerged from my crotch, completely soaking the front of my pants.

Hiccup.

I pulled myself up into a sitting position, finally noticing the persistent hiccup sounds. Izuna was sitting next to me staring at the body with dull, lifeless eyes. Blood was smeared over the right side of his face. He hiccupped again. I tapped his chest.

"Izuna."

But he didn't even look at me. I shook his shoulders.

"Izuna!"

He stared ahead with wide eyes, chest bucking and hiccupping like he couldn't breathe. I'd seen similar things happen to other kids on missions. He was in shock. I continued shaking him harder and harder.

"Don't leave me here alone! Don't!" I shouted at him. "When Dad gets back... You need to be here. You need to be here, too!"

But there was no use.

I shakily got to my feet, realizing that I was alone. I had been out with my father and my seven and five year old younger brothers and in just the snap of a finger I was alone. I pulled Izuna up and grabbed him firmly by the hand. Initially, he wouldn't walk but I dragged him forcing him to slide along the dirt until he finally got to his feet and stumbled along next to me. We both walked downstream, surrounded by our own thoughts. Izuna kept hiccupping. My awareness of self was coming back in short jumps and I slowly realized there was a reason I didn't need to pee anymore.

I barely remembered that walk though, in reflection, it felt like the longest walk of my life. At some time, Izuna had passed out. I remembered dragging him by his wrists and kicking him in the side, prompting him to get up but he was motionless and still struggling to breathe. Then I sat there next to him in my damp pants, staring at the ground and seeing nothing but not closing my eyes. At that moment, I would have been fine with death if it would have just come quickly.

Unfortunately, my father found us before death could come to the rescue. He had heard the explosion and run back to the meadow only to find half of one of his sons' bodies. By that time, thrown into hysteria, he had called the village to dispatch people to search high and low for us because he didn't believe we also could've been consumed by the blast without a trace. I watched him run to us, shaking with shame and fear of what would happen. I was in charge. I was supposed to keep everyone safe. I thought my father would hate me after that but instead he grabbed us both and hugged us tighter than he ever had in our lives.

"When I heard it, I thought all of you had-" but then he stopped himself, burying his face in our clothes.

I understood what he meant in spite of his pause. One dead child is better than three. And even more than that, I knew that my father saw Itsuya as a failure. A boy with blue eyes could not have inherited the Sharingan. And even more so, he was innocent, gentle, delicate in stature and small in size. Not a boy fit for battle. He was doted on by our mother and enjoyed being babied. I was certain that in the cruel world we lived in, my father didn't believe Itsuya would last long. But he was wrong. I was the true failure. A failure of an older brother. A failure of a leader. A failure of a ninja. My father carried Izuna, who wouldn't walk or respond, in his arms all the way home and I trudged along next to him.

My mother knew immediately. The moment we set foot in the house, she knew. No one spoke. No one cried. No one blamed anyone. We were Uchiha. She took Izuna from my father's arms and spent all night trying to get him to speak without saying a word to either of us.

He was irresponsive for a full two days afterward. And even after that, he often woke up in the middle of the night shaking and crying because of nightmares. A thing I had to endure for a long time. But I accepted it. I knew, and he knew, that I was the one to blame.

I glanced back into my bedroom to see that Izuna had finally gone to sleep. My mother adjusted him on his bed and then exited our room. Seeing me sitting there on the floor outside, she spared me one long look and then turned, hair swishing behind her.

I understand why my absence frightened you so, Mother. But we all need to seek some kind of refuge... Every anniversary... Of Itsuya's death.

Hashirama

I lit the candle in my room to see that Tobirama had been sitting there in the dark. The candle cast shadows all over the room and the thunder boomed outside.

"Where do you keep going?" he asked me.

"I'm training." I replied, tossing my ninja pack to the floor and hopping into bed.

His expression told me he didn't believe me but he sighed and rolled over in bed, saying nothing.

I understood Tobirama better than anyone else in my family but unfortunately, it wasn't a two way street. He was often confounded by my decisions and the choices I made. He heckled me by calling me too soft to be a ninja and at times asking father for a higher position than me because he didn't believe in my decisive capabilities. But even though father believed in me even less than Tobirama did, he knew that, when I had to, I could be more ruthless than any of them.

Tobirama sat up momentarily, pulling a jacket off of the headboard. As he lay on the bed, he draped it over him. Slipping his head under and curling up for warmth, even though it was far too small to cover him completely. I sighed.

And you call me soft...

The door creaked open and I raised my eyebrows to a woman. She tossed her wavy white hair over her left shoulder and smiled at me fondly.

"Just get home?" she asked.

I nodded.

"You're lucky your father isn't here. You know he'd like to know where you're going."

I shrugged.

"Just doing some stand alone training, I can't have Tobi stealing all my techniques again." I said, making a silly face at the sleeping bulge in the other bed.

She laughed softly and came over, sitting on the edge of my bed.

"Well there's no doubt you'll grow up to be a fine ninja then."

"Of course!" I exclaimed. "Look at these muscles!"

I flexed for her then, outstretching my arms and showing off the thickness of my biceps. Her eyes widened comically.

"Ooooh." She said feeling them. "Amazing."

"What if I could get them to be bigger than my entire body?" I asked.

"Then I'd make you join the traveling art performers instead of being a shinobi."

We both snickered. Tobirama rolled over in his bed and his arm fell over the side. She got up momentarily and repositioned the shirt he'd picked up over his torso.

"Doing that..." I began, as I pulled my own shirt off. "Is just going to make him dependant."

She ran the shirt through her own fingers before she placed it back onto him.

"He can't carry it around forever." I went on, pulling my pants off.

"We all know that, Hashi." She said quietly. "But sometimes, a little thing like this is necessary... Just as a small reminder as you live on."

A small reminder? So that we don't forget? No, more like so that we're certain. Certain that there really was a kind-hearted, insightful baby boy named Itama once. A boy who had worn that exact same shirt.

"I'm sorry, Hisa-san." I said quietly, bowing my head as I spoke. "I'm so sorry."

I could see the grimace on her face as she stroked Tobirama's hair.

Hisama, or Hisa-san, was my father's second lover. The mother of Tobirama and Itama. A clear indication of my separation from her was our appearance. I was a spitting image of our father with dark brown hair and eyes. Hisa-san and Tobirama both had white hair and pale red eyes, the signs of a strong water user. Hisa-san often could produce water in her palm without any body of water being present. It was a rare gift. Though Tobirama was just nine years old, he was already adept at moving water from lakes to other places at great distances, though he had yet to produce it from thin air. Hisa-san often said that he was more skilled than her, destined to become a great ninja. Itama had our father's dark eyes and his hair was partially white, though it had been all dark brown like mine when he was first born. Hisa-san said that in some children, the whiteness of the hair begins at one side of the head and, very subtly as they grow, it stretches until it encompasses the entire head. When Itama died, half of his hair was already white. Because of this, Hisa-san predicted that if he had lived just another year or two, he would've been a full blown water user, though perhaps a weak one.

"I told you already to stop apologizing for that, Hashirama." She said turning to me. "He wasn't very skilled at recognizing his surrounds yet... There was nothing anyone could do."

Itama... I was so focused on the mission, I'd let him leave my sight for a second, just one second and the next thing I knew...

"He got lost in the shuffle." She went on. "Not just then...but often times, he..."

That was also true. Itama was quiet... All of us, even I, usually forgot he was around. We all just expected him to show up but never actually registered his presence. We just took it all for granted.

She came over to me and gave me a hug.

"I love you no matter what happened." She whispered.

I hugged her back feeling lost in my own thoughts. Suddenly, Madara's words came back to me.

"I meant escape and never come back."

As I held my brother's mother to my chest, I finally could understand what he meant.

Can we just move on from here?

Her white hair brushed against my cheek and I closed my eyes.

My own mother, Kama, had died giving birth to me. But I'd never felt any kind of animosity toward Hisa-san for 'taking my mother's place' or moving into our house. I adored the three younger half-brothers that she'd blessed me with and I enjoyed her presence in my life. Even more peculiar, she had formed a bond with me that was in ways, stronger, than the ones that she had with her own sons.

Kawarama had never completely learned how to assimilate into the 'ninja' way of life and so grew to have serious verbal and social deficiencies. I believed his issues probably stemmed from the trauma of having to watch so much death at a young age. Because of that, he never spoke. Instead of turning to his mother for emotional support and stimulation, he normally kept himself contained and isolated in a room until he was called out onto the field. ...Until the day, when he was seven years old, he, along with a whole host of others, was killed in a village invasion by the Uchiha clan.

Tobirama bonded more with our father, striving to be just like him in every way. Whenever he wasn't following Itama around to make sure he didn't get into trouble, he was following our father around. He walked after his footsteps more steadfastly than I ever had.

And Itama was similar to Kawarama. Though he was very verbally expressive and compassionate, he was also rather timid and anxious, which made them both silent observers oftentimes. But because of his nervousness, Itama didn't form much of a connection to either of our parents. He often drifted around finding friends and companions in people outside of the family and only truly speaking his mind when he was around Tobirama or me.

Hisa-san was thirsty for someone to show affection to and though I was the eldest and most responsible, I also wanted someone that could understand me. Someone that I could show my true colors. And somewhere along the line, she had become that for me.

"I've been meeting a boy." I confessed.

She pulled back and looked at me questioningly.

"For a long time now, I've been going down to the river to meet up with him. We think the same things. We...understand each other."

She sat on the edge of my bed and watched me intently. Tobirama was fast asleep. My father was out all night either scouting or doing some other kind of mission. He was often on long-term missions which is why he never noticed that I left so much.

"What clan is he from?"

I looked down.

"We never told each other."

"He refused to tell you?

"In a way."

"He must be a ninja." She mused. "What clan would you assume that he's from?"

I felt exposed, and not just because I was wearing nothing but underwear, but because I felt that she knew the answer before she even asked it.

"Perhaps... That clan."

She stiffened, her face, her body, everything.

"Hashirama...you're playing a very dangerous game." She said seriously. "This kind of relationship could set off a chain reaction causing hundreds of casualties."

It doesn't have to.

"If that boy truly turns out to be from that clan and betrays you, all of our necks will be on the line. Do you understand? You must be extremely careful with him." She said. "Don't reveal anything."

"I haven't." I said, restraining a sigh. "I know better than that."

"I know you do. I'm just reminding you..." she said. "I know you like to play games but this isn't funny at all."

I'm not playing around right now!

"I trust him."

It could've been the fierceness of my eyes or the tightness of my jaw but she stopped short.

"And he trusts me." I continued.

She sighed, seeming to consider.

"You said he's also twelve?" she asked.

"He's slighter younger than me. Right now, he's eleven." I told her.

She was silent, thinking the information over.

"It's possible he hasn't unlocked his Sharingan yet." She concluded.

She went quiet for awhile again, then she looked at me. The warmth in her eyes returned, replacing suspicion, and she smiled at me.

"I suppose, as long as he doesn't have the eyes, he's not too much of a threat."

A smile spread on my face, too.

"You had me worried for no reason!" I said, tugging at her shirt. "I thought you were going to tell father!"

"I would have." She said. "But...you seem to trust him unquestioningly."

"The way he speaks." I mused. "He's...different."

"Then I guess you're two shuirken in an eight-tool holster." She joked.

Then she clasped her hands together.

"Alright, it's late enough." She said. "Lie down and rest."

But I still had something else on my mind.

"Hisa-san, I don't believe that he's truly an Uchiha." I said, trying to get her attention.

And to some degree I didn't, though I had my inklings. First and foremost, he seemed too easy to read to be an Uchiha.

"But your suspicions have given me an idea." I began carefully. "I'm thinking of maybe going on a mission with him, to test him, see what kind of person he really is."

She cocked her head.

"Don't you think something like that is a bit excessive? Not to mention life threatening..."

"But he could be a threat to us otherwise." I told her. "I'll take this as my personal top secret long term mission. I'll lure him away from the Senju clan and get as much information out of him as possible. If I'm successful, he's completely harmless."

"But the way you described him, he doesn't sound like a fool." She said. "Do you really think he'll fall for that?"

"He's an emotional wreck." I explained, grinning at my own inside joke. "He won't be able to resist the idea."

She shrugged.

"Okay." She said. "Go ahead with this secret mission and I won't tell your father."

She gave me a stern look before grasping the door knob.

"But come back alive." She said, with those warm, red eyes of hers.

I nodded vigorously.

But with the amount of time I was considering leaving, they may just as well have pronounced me dead already. I glanced over at Tobirama snuggling under the shirt sleeping soundly and remembered his words.

"Where do you keep going?"

Lately, he's been so interested in where I go and what I do because it's almost been a year since Itama's death...

And with that thoughts of Itama swam back into my mind's central occupation. In seconds, as it is with all painful memories, it was if I was drowning in it. Being suffocated by the biggest error of my life.

Itama was easily misunderstood. Very easily. He definitely was the meek, tender boy everyone saw him as but he was also very mentally gifted. Often times, when Tobirama and I went back and forth on strategy and planning out missions or routes, he was right there with us, even at the age of four or five, pointing out things even I couldn't see. He was tough like Tobirama but not to the point of being abrasive or too concrete in thinking and he was playful and gentle like I was but also not too idealistic or soft. He was like the perfect cross between us both. If he had lived, he would very well have been the best Hokage candidate between the three of us.

The problem was that I thought I understood him, so I trusted him. Perhaps a bit too much.

"They're onto us." I called back to my platoon.

I was just shy of twelve years old, leading a small five man group by myself consisting of my thirteen year old cousin, Shoutama, two distantly related teens around seventeen years old, and my seven year old younger brother.

"Should we scatter?"

"No!" I told them. "Too risky. We'll go as a unit like this until we get a good sense of who it is."

"I caught a glimpse of them already." One of them called to me. "I can tell they're Uchihas by the colors on their backs. It's about five or six of them."

"Then that's even more reason to stay together, one on one will be too risky at this point." I told them. "Stay unified."

We were running for our lives but Itama had bounded up to where I was, falling into step next to me.

"Get into position." I ordered.

He shook his head, speaking up in that quiet way of his.

"It'll be smarter to scatter, brother." He told me. "They can corner us too easily this way."

I knew that but one of my solid core beliefs of leading was that a team stayed a team until the very end.

"They're trying to get the medical vial that Shoutama has." He went on. "If he goes with one other person and the other three of us go another direction, they'll follow the three thinking that the other two can't possibly have it."

His reasoning was spot on. I'd already considered a plan like that.

"I know you hate taking risks, Hashi, but isn't the mission the point?" he asked.

That was also true. The point of any mission was mission success, not casualties. I personally decided that the success of the mission relied on how many lives were saved but most leaders never paid it any mind.

"Fine then." I said. "I'll go with Shouta-"

"No, it's obvious that you're the squad leader." He said. "They'll know he has it for sure if you go with him. I'll do it."

"They're gaining on us!" someone exclaimed.

"Itama, no." I had initially said.

"I look young and defenseless." He protested. "So, they'll never expect it."

"Because you are young and defenseless." I said to my baby brother.

"They're coming!" the others warned.

It was a split second decision. Itama was right in a way, just running altogether would lead us into conflict and if that happened, I'd be so busy trying to protect him that it would salvage the mission and ultimately, the majority of us could be killed or injured. To create the least casualties, a sacrifice needed to be made. So...I...

"Go." I told him.

He nodded firmly and fell back, relaying the plan to the others. I watched him pair up with Shouta, take the vial and run off. We sprinted in the other direction. If everything went right, the Uchihas would continue following us and in the case we had to fight them, at least the vial would be on its way to safety, along with Itama. That was all I thought about.

I didn't know what happened. All I knew was that we kept running and running and finally, one of the teens pointed out to me that he sensed no one following us. That was when I knew. That was when I froze.

We ran back as quickly as we could. I barely remembered those few minutes, running, jumping, diving, trying to get there, trying to get him. We came upon Shouta first. He lay in the middle of a meadow with charred skin and melted hair. The only way we could tell it was him were the melted pieces of orange cloth tied tightly over his hair. He liked to wear that bandana every day.

At the sight, my heart was panging in my chest. I knew I should've been sorrowful for Shouta but I didn't care. The footsteps around his body were multiple. I followed them, running and stumbling through the trees until I came upon a large stone mount embedded in the hillside next to the river.

It was quiet there. The birds picked at seeds that had been dislodged by the many, many footsteps surrounding the area. And then there was the body. Sitting against the stone mount with his hair wafting in the wind. I had been screaming. I didn't realize it until I coughed from being out of breath. Then, I walked up to him. I reached out. I lifted his head with my fingertips. His eyes stared lifelessly out at me and the blood on his chin was almost dried. His body was cold. I wondered how long he had been dead. I wondered how long I had been unaware. Then, before I could react in anguish or depression, I saw something glinting in the sunlight. It was difficult to open his mouth because his body had hardened but I got it open enough to pull out the shimmering thing... The vial.

I slipped it into my weapons pouch and that was when I decided that I needed to go home. No matter what, I needed to take him there. Take him back home. I lifted his small body up into my arms and walked there. Walked the entire four miles home. The two others had taken care of Shouta's body, bent on carrying him home to his family too.

I'll never forget that moment. Stepping into my house, my normally loud, cacophonous house. Strangely at that time, like a premonition, it was silent. I stood there in front of the front opening, waiting and waiting. A drop of Itama's blood hit the floor.

"Hashi! Ita! Is that you?" a male voice called. "Good, now we can begin going over technique again. Tobi is already outside-"

And then at the sight of me, he stopped short. He stood in the front hall, walking toward me slowly. He looked from me, to the body in my hands, back up to me again and again and again like this for a full silent minute. I remembered glancing at the water basin next to the opening of the house and seeing my reflection. I was solemn and dead looking, there was blood all over my shirt and arms, and my cheeks were tear stained, even though I couldn't remember crying.

"You said Hashi's home?" another voice perked up. "Great, I need help with the-"

But before I could ever discover what she wanted of me, she screamed. The scream was blood curling. Loud, hair raising. I almost dropped Itama at the sound of it. It startled me back into awareness. Shocking the life back into me like lightning. My mouth moved, began sputtering for words.

"I... I..." I began, but it was still too early for words.

And then Tobirama came. He pushed his way between his mother and father also startled by the scream and when he set eyes on Itama, I could almost hear the breaking of a heart. He was silent for a long time. Then very abruptly, he shook his head hard and clenched his fists.

"No, no, no!" he shouted.

I slowly lowered Itama to the ground at my feet and oddly, worked on positioning his hands to lie on his stomach even though it was impossible with the way he'd hardened.

"What did you do!?" he shouted.

I looked up at him.

"How could you let this happen?" he exclaimed. "Itama was your responsibility!"

"The plan..." I choked out. "His plan... He planned to sacrifice his safety for..."

Then I pulled the vial out and held it in my palm.

"The mission." I finished.

"You don't get him at all!" Tobirama shouted. "He might seem like he's all strong and dependable, but he's just a baby. How could you trust him with something like that?!"

I couldn't find the words to defend myself. I wasn't even sure if I had words to defend myself. Tobirama looked down at the body angrily.

"He was probably... Standing there, shaking and crying in his last minutes wondering why his big brother ran away, letting him die!"

"Tobi!"

He paused, looking up at his mother who had called him. Her eyes were set on the ground, on Itama.

"We do not blame people for things in this house!" She scolded, eyes never leaving Itama.

He stopped, swallowing hard. Tears came to his eyes. I was shaken deeply to my core. Tobirama hadn't even cried when some of our best friends and cousins died.

"You're soft...and weak." He told me. "You don't deserve to be squad leader."

He turned on his heel then, leaving us with the silence of a child who used to grin and smile. Hisa-san collapsed onto her knees, shaking with an inconceivable amount of tears and sobs. Father got to work wrapping Itama up for burial. While he did so, he hummed a melancholy tune I'd never heard him sing before and didn't say a single word. The vial was kept in our home, rumored to be one of the strongest healing serums ever created. And Tobirama... For a while, I was certain he hated me. Truthfully, I still believed he hated me to some degree.

In reality, I had been the elder brother taking positions of responsibility and learning things first and much quicker, whereas, Itama and Tobirama were somewhat twins, training with Father at the same time, successfully completing new techniques at the same time, eating together, sleeping in the same bed. He had always been a lot closer to Itama than I was. I often wondered if he would've made that fatal miscalculation if he had been squad leader instead.

I gazed at Tobirama from across the bedroom and finally lay down in my sheets as the candle flickered out.

It was probably killing him, being stuck in that deadpan silent home all that time while I disappeared somewhere almost every day and Father went on missions. Mother said he spent all his time alone practicing new jutsu he'd think up in his spare time. And for that, for leaving him with no one to turn to when I was gone, no one to protect or be protected by... I was truly sorry.

But...still, I can't stay here with you... There's something I have to do.

Madara

I had the idea in place in my mind as I woke up the next morning. Or rather, as I was woken up. Izuna was shaking me, nudging me back and forth.

"Let's go practicing, Mada." He said.

I rolled over and sat up as he smiled up at me.

Here's one person I'm not sure if I can leave behind...

I ruffled his spiky black hair.

"I have to speak with Father right now." I said. "We'll play another time."

"Training isn't playing." He said, frowning.

I half wished I could take him with me but I knew that with the over-protective stance Mother had taken over us, he wouldn't be going out on any missions. She had even discouraged Father or me from training him for the most part. Mostly all he did was sit in the house and help Mother keep things tidy. Yet, part of me was glad for this rule. I would rather Izuna be kept as a house slave than going on dangerous missions all day. But, I knew it wouldn't last long. Father was being lax because he understood Mother's pain but soon his own thirst for another prosperous son would transcend his desire for Izuna's safety.

I got out of bed and pulled on a pair of pants with one of my robes overtop.

"I'm gonna be leaving for a while, Izuna." I said as I left the room. "Make sure you have something interesting to show me when I get back."

He nodded, grinning.

"Maybe I'll even have the Sharingan!" he said. "And I'll be better than you!"

"That's a cute dream you had." I replied.

I found Father behind the house sharpening one of his swords for use.

"Father." I called.

"Yes, son?"

"Something you said yesterday caught my attention." I said.

He paused in sharpening, looking up at me.

"Oh?"

"I've decided that unless I unlock my Sharingan like I'm supposed to or train extensively, I'm not worthy to be a platoon leader."

"It's impossible to unlock your Sharingan at will, Madara." He said, refocusing on his sword. "You know this."

"I do." I agreed. "Which is why I've decided to go on my own long term training expedition like you told me about."

He froze.

"Oh, really now?"

"Yes."

"And you think this will help you unlock your Sharingan?" he asked.

"If not, then at least I'll know in my heart that I'm worthy."

He was quiet for a while and then examining his sword against the cloudy sky he regarded me offhandedly.

"Are you still hung up about that trifling error from that time?"

I knew what he was talking about even before he finished. Itsuya's death.

"...Maybe."

"Hm." He muttered. "Then away with you. Come back as a man who takes pride in his errors instead of letting them haunt him."

"Thank you, Father."

Playing directly into my hands.

"But you'll have to be the one to inform your Mother." He added quickly.

I couldn't help but smirk, my father's humor showed up in interesting ways.

"Scared?" I taunted him.

"I just don't have the patience for her mouth." He said, giving me a knowing grin.

We laughed but I walked away not worried in the slightest. Mother was standing in the inner hall as I came in. I was certain she was peeking out of the door trying to guess what I was talking to father about.

"I'm leaving for a while." I told her simply. "Keep Izuna at home while I'm gone."

"And what, may I ask, is this little excursion for?"

I turned to her. The tension between us was heavy, almost suffocating. Her bright blue eyes pierced into my onyx ones, staring me down.

"A coming of age." I explained.

Her expression didn't change even slightly.

"You're wandering into dangerous waters again, my son." She warned me. "Preserve your life. You don't realize until you get to be my age how special it is."

"I appreciate life, Mother. All I ask is that you protect that of my younger brother."

"Consider Izuna, then." She replied, quick on the uptake. "How would he feel if he became an only child?"

"He won't be an only child." I said. "So he has nothing to worry about."

I was already walking down the hall, sick of looking at her. She leaned against the wall watching as I grabbed the knob, turned it and fled out into the cloud day.

"Come back alive." I heard her call.

Naturally.

Hashirama was there before I was. He stood in front of the bank silently with his scarf swaying in the brisk wind. One glance at his face made me feel like he had slept as little as I did but for what reason I couldn't be sure. Our faces were blank as we stared at the river which was much wider and deeper than usual because of the consistent rainfall. That day was also cloudy, the sky was so low, it seemed like I could reach up and grab it.

"I want you to leave with me."

And then seconds passed with neither of us reacting to the words that were said. Finally, I cocked my head and spared him a glance.

"Why?" I asked.

"I don't even know why myself." He remarked.

"My Father gave me permission to leave on a solo long term training mission from today onwards." I confessed to him. "I told him I wouldn't come back until I feel like a man."

"So, basically, you're never going back." He joked.

I rolled my eyes. We were silent for a while and then he spoke up again.

"You ever feel like our lies are actually the truth but we just don't realize it?"

I snickered.

"Only an idiot would fall victim to something like that."

He began pouting immediately, sticking his bottom lip out and pretending to cry. I sighed.

"You're such a child." I said, quickly changing my words. "I'm sure everyone feels like that."

He grinned, getting what he wanted.

"Even the 'Great Powerful Madara'?" he asked me.

I laughed.

"Stop it with the nicknames or I might get used to it."

"Of course you would like something like that." He said, sticking his hand into my hair like he normally did. "You're so egotistical."

I pinched his cheek in return.

"At least I don't act like a baby when something doesn't go my way."

He made a face.

"That's not true. If you say you won't go with me right now, I won't throw a tantrum."

"Yes, you will." I said immediately.

He burst into laughter and danced around me, making silly faces.

"Alright, Alright! You got me!" he declared, grinning.

I know this guy like the back of my hand... He's incredibly stupid in personality. He loves playing pranks and games. He spends most of his day just thinking up ways to have a laugh. It's like the world is his playground. Or at least, that's the way everyone probably sees him...

I stuck my foot out, tripping him onto his back as he spun around me again. Then I promptly put my foot in his chest.

"No, now I got you." I teased.

He grabbed my foot with both of his hands and then his eyes traveled up to the sky which was darkening.

"It's going to storm soon. If you want to take a crack at me, you'd better do it fast." I said, following his eyes.

I allowed him to slowly get his bearings.

"Well, you sound confident... So, I guess it's time for me to show you my...brand-new jutsu!" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet.

I watched him quickly weave the necessary signs and clap his hands together. Before I could decipher what he was doing, a narrow tree root pulled up from under the ground and wrapped around my right ankle.

"Gotcha!" He exclaimed, slipping into an attack position. "And now..."

I watched him dart at me and then jump in the air, launching his foot at me.

Foolish...

I put my hands together and also formed some quick signs with my chest expanding simultaneously. The rain began to fall precisely at the moment that a flame ball burst from my lips and rushed toward him. I smirked.

Never rush at an Uchiha.

He fell to the dirt, pressing his back firmly against the ground to avoid being completely toasted as the blast passed over his body. I walked up at him and held my hand out.

"Nice jutsu, but you lose this one." I said.

He sneered at me. And I inwardly sighed.

That face... That playful face he always has right before-

His leg swiftly slid around and collided with mine, tripping me. I fell backwards and he immediately tackled me to the dirt. He raised his fist trying to catch me in the jaw but I blocked the hit with my forearm, then he tried to dig his knee into my stomach but I blocked that with my spare arm. I planned to buck back and roll over so that I was pinning him to the ground but the next thing I knew, a tree root rose and wrapped around my waist, holding me there. After a couple more seconds of struggling, I knew I was literally tied up and couldn't do anything.

"Say I'm the strongest ninja in history and I'll let you go!" he said.

I rolled my eyes.

As if I'd ever...

"You cheated, Hashirama!" I grumbled.

He laughed, getting up off of me and removing the root.

"It's not like you would've won even if I played fair!"

As he stared down at me, his grin began to fade.

"Last time, you said it'd be nice if we could escape..." he said quietly. "I know that we can never escape this for good but wouldn't it be nice to take a break together?"

I looked up at him. Momentarily, the dark ominous clouds from before parted and the sun peeked at us, giving us warmth. At that moment, he held his hand out to me and it got me thinking.

Everyone sees him as a joke but I'm the only one that can see the underlining... Deep inside, he's just as dark as I am. Just as conniving. Just as ruthless. Just as solemn. Even though, he's much less likely than I am to show his true nature, we mirror each other.

"Don't you trust me?" he asked.

And because of the truth of his personality that no one was aware of except me, I trusted him more than anyone else in my life.

My hand moved and grabbed onto his as the sunlight began to dissipate. He pulled me up and stood before me, smiling.

"Let's go." He said.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading this Adventure Story I wrote for Hashirama and Madara!

Up Next: Discover why and where Hashirama procures his affinity for gambling, meanwhile, Madara keeps finding himself neck deep in a world of trouble!