***

Sometimes we ask ourselves 'Why?' Why do I continue to smile, to give, to live? Why do I continue to stand, despite the ferocity of the wind that keeps blowing, that keeps slapping against my face, creating a pressure that says 'fall'? Why I don't I listen to those who call me a fool because I continue to love despite my hurt? I don't know what tomorrow brings; I don't know if my troubles will seize or if my sorrows will continue. But this much I do know - I will continue to hold out, I will continue to press on, until my blessing comes.

Shane Smith

***

Hashirama decides to go alone.

To the loud, varied, and surprisingly creative threatening (mostly Izuna) arguments of the Uchiha.

He appreciates their concern, even though it's mostly because they're worried about losing such a powerful weapon against Zetsu and Kaguya.

He's ashamed to say that even with all those lifetimes, he hadn't quite realized just how militant the Uchiha were, that there were no battles, no small conflicts, just bits and pieces of one long war that had no end in sight.

The Senju were never going to win if they'd kept fighting.

How did you defeat someone who did not see death as losing?

Some of them, though, some of them actually like him for him, and given time, more will come around.

After all, if Hashirama can get Madara to be his best friend/soul brother and Izuna to begrudgingly admit he likes Hashirama('s cock), getting anyone else to like him should be easy. And if they can like him, the worst of the Senju -next to his father- they can love the rest of his clan.

Thank god for Midoriko. The level-headed by-Uchiha-standard kunoichi reminds him of Mito, and he's ridiculously excited to introduce them.

And her son.

He's kept his mouth shut about that. He knows she's waiting to make sure nothing bad happens with the pregnancy, wary that paranoia and worry over the baby might derail them from the current path, and Hashirama loves her for it.

It's also been a fascinating case study of the Sharingan for his rarely displayed intellectual side (that's more Tobirama's realm). Midoriko's Sharingan has not shared knowledge of the baby with anyone else, coveting its secret according to Midoriko, but it strikes Hashirama that the parasite does have some attachment to its host.

It's a hopeful sign that the Rinnegan and the other Sharingan of the clan will follow the lead of their bearers and come to love their fellow shinobi outside the Uchiha and, maybe eventually, the village itself.

The more love for the Sharingan, the better. Hashirama would like to avoid the Curse of Hatred as much as possible.

Madara offered to go in his stead, but this is Hashirama's responsibility. It's something he should have dealt with long ago. Butsuma's never born the weight of the life of a shinobi well in any of their lifetimes, and Hashirama always seems to act too late.

But when is it a good time to kill your own father? It needed to be done, but that didn't mean Hashirama wanted to do it. Or that Tobi wouldn't resent him at least a little bit, no matter how deserving Butsuma was. That it wouldn't remain in the mind of every Senju left that if Hashirama could commit patricide, he could kill any one of them.

It would be easier in the short run if Madara did it, but worse in the long run, and that's what Hashirama has to think about. Madara and the Uchiha are firmly focused on defeating Kaguya and Zetsu now, and while the village is part of that, Hashirama also knows most of them are not expecting to survive, so they're not thinking beyond their victory.

Madara can only force them along so much. It's easier if Hashirama just plans for it all, so it's ready when they finally realize they need it.

They share a bottle of sake on the roof of Madara's home the night before he goes, overlooking the garden and the sprawling wheat fields that Hashirama will have to cross tomorrow. Kurama, apparently fond of being small enough to trick people into thinking he's cute, is sprawled across Madara's legs. Purring loudly as the Great Calamity absentmindedly rubbed his tummy between sips.

Kurama isn't allowed to drink sake.

Not anymore.

They'd learned that lesson the week before when he'd gotten into the Elders' wine stores and gotten so trashed he'd started changing size every time he hiccuped. He'd destroyed two storehouses, Hikaku's porch, and part of the compound wall -again- when Kagami escaped his grandfather and convinced the other children to play tag with Kurama's tails.

It had taken nearly as long to wrangle the children as it had to wrangle Kurama.

Madara had been furious and Hashirama had had to scramble to distract him while Izuna, Hikaku, and Midoriko cleaned up most of it.

Though Midoriko hadn't been happy either, muttering Lady Kikyo never had to deal with this – I bet no one would dare do this to Mito-hime – that's not where that goes! – That's it, we're getting rid of the wine!

She'd looked inappropriately pleased as she dumped out Elder Oda's personal store.

Even Izuna had started looking as scared of his wife as the rest of them by the end of the day.

They'd locked the remaining store rooms after that, not that any of them actually believed Kurama cared or would be in any way deterred.

He'd complained – laid around and whined pathetically until someone gave in and rubbed his tummy - of a hangover for hours the next day, and Hashirama was halfway convinced he was just doing it for the attention.

There'd been an hour there where locking him away had seemed like a good idea again...

"He's cute when he's tiny. And asleep," Hashirama tugged one of Kurama's tails.

The little demon twitched in his sleep and tucked his paws under his chin.

Madara snorted, "He's an idiot." But he rubbed Kurama's belly as he said it. "Are you sure you don't want me to-"

"No. No, this is mine to do."

"It's not a little thing to kill your father...even if you've done it before."

"He's not a good man. He won't be missed."

"In all things, we are strong. In all things, we love. In all things, we are devoted until death." Madara murmured.

Hashirama leaned against him, enjoying the warmth that all Uchiha gave off. He's pretty confident he's the only person outside the Uchiha Clan who's seen that gentle, sympathetic look on Madara's face. There were a few lives there where Madara had to kill Tajima, but he's always handled difficult duties better than Hashirama.

"Bad men aren't missed," Madara added, and something cold lances through Hashirama's gut.

"You are not a bad man, Dear Heart."

"I'm not a good one." Madara must see the fear in his face because he softens, "It's alright, I'm not...It's just normal regret, Petal. Not...that."

"You are not a bad man, Dara. You made mistakes, you listened to the wrong people, but you were always trying to do good."

"Trying to do good is not an excuse for doing bad."

And it's not, he's right, but Madara, Hashirama has realized, is the most stubborn human being he's ever met and has already decided he's a bad person. Unworthy, unlovable, unforgivable. Unable to forget that first life when he wasn't strong enough, wasn't smart enough to defeat Zetsu and Kaguya.

When he did so much damage that he blackened his own soul.

It plunges Hashirama back to those lifetimes in the mountains when the strongest man he knew couldn't muster up the energy or reason to get out of bed to relieve himself, let alone to eat. Remembers watching Madara waste away to skin and bones because he couldn't muster up the barest energy to breathe.

It's not something they -shinobi- deal with often because taking that attitude onto the battlefield guarantees death, and even Hashirama's most dedicated efforts as a healer made little to no difference until Madara himself found a reason to live.

How did you heal thought, after all? How did you heal a wound that wasn't physical, that you couldn't see or even feel all the time? That came and went with the seasons?

There's a word for it, though it's not well known.

Utsubyō.

Meloncholia. Sickness of the soul.

Not to be confused with Shūshō. Anguish. Grief of the soul.

Because we all make that mistake, he thinks.

In a world where people die too quickly to truly regret or mourn anything, it's fallen by the wayside. But seeing Madara suffer from it, seeing it linger at the corners of his existence, just waiting to slip back in, has brought it to Hashirama's attention.

Along with the realization that if the village succeeds and their people begin to live past their thirties and forties, it will become a significant health issue. Even the strongest of them could be worn down by it given enough time.

Like Madara, who is still the strongest Hashirama knows, to try over and over and over to right his wrongs and make a better world, whom years of loneliness had cracked open so widely that Zetsu and Kaguya could grab hold and carve strips off his soul.

They missed it in that first life, and it makes him think of Kakashi. Of Iruka and Itachi and all those children and all those soldiers crumbling behind closed doors.

Of Sasuke and Naruto, clinging so tightly to one another. A love colored by desperation.

And now Madara is convinced that no matter how much good he does, he will never be a good person -whatever that is- and nothing Hashirama says will budge him.

It is as infuriating as it is saddening.

If Madara slips into the void again, if this world refuses to show him some ounce of affection, some glimpse of love, Hashirama will just burn it all and start all over.

Because he has realized something....

As much as he needs Tobirama by his side and as much as Madara needs Izuna...

Hashirama and Madara need each other. There is no other, no equal, no match, that can understand either of them more than the other.

There is no one Hashirama can confide his furies and his frustrations too besides Madara, because his strength would turn his frustration into terror in anyone else. Only Madara can look at his seething desire to rip apart the world and remake it into something better and not feel threatened.

Likewise, there is no one else who can hear Madara's rage, his impulsive desire to destroy and hurt and inflict the pain he sees in the world on those who cause it, and not fear that he will destroy them all in a single outburst.

There is no one else that understands the precipice they stand on. All the lifetimes before leading up to this one, all their failed attempts and the determination to keep trying, driven to love even if it isn't returned...

What it means to have someone give you hope for the first time in your life, to realize that dream you clutched so tightly that got you through the loss of those you loved most, was actually shared by another human being instead of mocked and dismissed.

Like they had done for one another back in that first lifetime, that first day beside the Naka.

There is no one else either of them can turn to and say, remember that lifetime in the mountains? You fell to your death laughing. Remember when we walked to the end of the world and got lost?

No one else shares those stories. That understanding.

There is no one else alive in this world that remembers their true childhood, back in that first life that set them on this course, to begin with.

So it will always be just the two of them, carrying this blessing that is also a burden, because neither of them can justify forcing someone else to carry it as well.

Hashirama polishes off the bottle, though he doesn't hold his sake nearly as well as Madara. Something in Uchiha physiology makes them burn through anything faster: food, alcohol, pain medication. It's likely a result of their abnormally large chakra pathways and reserves, developed over the generations to support the Sharingan. The variations are fascinating, as well as the differing medical practices the Uchiha have developed in response and he's honestly excited to see the Uchiha and Senju medical fields mesh once they've got the village up and running.

He's noticed a trend in the overall differences between the clans. He feels a bit stupid for taking so long to notice it, but whatever; the Senju think long term and proceed, carefully on a narrow path, accordingly. The Uchiha face the challenge in front of them and then the one after that, with a less established, more erratic path to an overall goal.

Senju medicine is almost always a hospital or clinic matter.

Uchiha, more often than not, treated one another in the comfort of their homes, with little supervision by the clan medics, unless the wound was significant.

The Senju heal when necessary.

The Uchiha practiced preventative medicine to the extreme, constantly healing sore muscles and bruises to ensure they could train the following day with little to no restraint.

The Senju focused on non-chakra-based healing as much as possible, the Uchiha the exact opposite. To the point that they had little to no knowledge of the wide variety of plants the Senju used.

The Senju believed in personal space; the Uchiha didn't.

The Uchiha looked one another in the eye, a sign of trust and affection, and the Senju demurred as a sign of respect. And perhaps a bit because of the Sharingan.

The Uchiha lived in interconnected homes, often sprawling over an entire block with close family members or friends.

The Senju moved into private homes after marriage and relatives were discouraged from living with newlyweds over concerns that the relationship would be unnecessarily stressed.

The Uchiha didn't have divorce in any form.

All Senju marriages included contracts of some kind, even when the marriage was the result of a long relationship and love. The Senju Elders and Clan Leader could interject in any marriage agreement they wished if they thought it was for the betterment of the clan.

The Uchiha firmly believed that if both parties were consenting, no one outside those two had any say. They fell hard and fast and permanently.

The sick among the Uchiha were cared for by family members, while the Senju maintained group homes for the elderly and ill.

The Senju had orphanages, allotments, and public baths.

The Uchiha adopted all parentless children, regardless of age, into a family, shared a large communal garden tended by civilian family members, and had private baths in their homes. The only public bath was an onsen and sauna reserved for active shinobi.

The Uchiha still followed the Old Ways, with blood dances and the old gods. They soaked their blood into the ground beneath their homes and maintained wards built generations before. Their elders -and really forty or fifty was not old- when they felt their time coming, would spill their own blood over the ground, a final act of service to the clan. Or they would fight to the death with a younger clan member, dying to bring out the Sharingan.

The Old Ways were based on voluntary sacrifice and a life centered on love and war.

The Newer Ways, monotheistic religions spreading from across the sea focused on service and caste systems, the primary reason they'd been embraced by the capitol, and extolled long-term peace and economies focused on trade and knowledge sharing and very strict societal roles that offered little deviation.

There was a happy medium between them, but finding it was another matter entirely. They'd found a good starting point in previous lives, but they hadn't figured out the trick to making it long-lasting.

And also, the Uchiha put spice in EVERYTHING. The first time Hashirama had taken a sip of their tea, he'd nearly died while Madara just laughed.

The Senju's food was rich, full of fat and heavy flavors, and Madara couldn't even make it all the way through an entire plate of one of their traditional dishes before laying down and complaining of a stomachache.

All those differences.

All those new things for each side to try.

It makes him a bit giddy, thinking of the possibilities to come.

But now he's rambling about things they could worry about later.

There's no way to be sure what Zetsu is up to right now, but he's circling both clans now, and worst-case scenario, he will use the method he used so successfully in the first life.

Killing Izuna wearing Tobirama's face.

Madara's been hovering around his baby brother ever since Kurama told them, and it's driving Izuna up the wall. The fiery Uchiha's been planning his own revenge against Zetsu. He doesn't have the full picture, but he's not stupid. He put enough together to realize Zetsu used him against Madara to devastating effect, and he's already told Hashirama and Midoriko that he's not letting it happen twice.

Hashirama almost considered bringing him along, but Madara's hesitance to let him out of his sight and Midoriko's still secret pregnancy convinced him otherwise.

When he finally sets out the next morning, he does so in his finest armor, repaired by the Uchiha firesymths in their favored kintsugi style.

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

He makes it to the border of their lands by lunch, not rushing but not delaying either, and is surprised to find Moro waiting for him.

***

The history of the world, as taught to Madara and Hashirama and their ilk as children, begins with the arrival of the Otsutsuki in the Land of the Ancients and continues from there, conveniently ignoring large periods of time when conflicting beliefs or groups were in power.

It also, less conveniently, ignored the time before the arrival of Kaguya's blood and the first planting and harvest of the God Tree.

When there had been no roads or villages or cities. When the old gods ruled wild, violent lands under a blood-red sky and humans were still in their infancy and crawling out of the nooks and crannies.

There had been many gods then, fickle creatures dedicated to eradicating the encroaching human race. There'd been a war when the Otsutsuki arrived that neither side won, but when Kaguya had eaten the God Fruit and set the human race on the path to civilization, what remained of the old gods had turned their backs on the world, slipping into the in-between and only returning when called by the blood they favored.

Deals made with gods were far less reliable than deals made with spirit clans.

After all, they could afford to wait out the Otsutsuki.

Even when Kaguya had created the Tailed Beasts and let them run rampant over the world, they'd stayed away.

And once the Tailed Beasts had been freed by Kaguya's imprisonment, they'd scattered to the ends of the Earth, and likewise turned their backs as Kaguya's children began to grow and the study of chakra began.

Moro was one of the old gods and one of the oldest of those. The great, untamable wild. A three-tailed wolf whose pack had once run from one end of the earth to the other in a single bound.

She'd hunted beside Kuromaru, the great black bite who guarded the door and was the first to favor humans. Had served the King of the Forest alongside Okuninushi, who wove the web of the world, with whom she'd also created many spirit clans that had signed summons contracts with shinobi.

She had signed her own contract with Indra's daughter, Kikyo, the progenitor of all living Uchiha, in exchange for a Sharingan of her own.

And while she enforced the law of non-interference, she, like Kuromaru and his Inuzuka and Okuninushi and her Aburame, maintained a close relationship with her chosen children, the Uchiha.

The three clans had made their bones as yokai hunters in those first dark decades after Kaguya was sealed, and while there were now few yokai that remained, it was not uncommon to see her dispensing guidance at the main temple in the Uchiha compound or visiting the King of the Forest deep in the trees along the Naka.

The first time Madara had summoned her and introduced her to Hashirama, he'd wet himself at the overwhelming force of the god's chakra, but she'd proven a (relatively) patient teacher and dedicated guardian, though she only took part in the conflicts with Kaguya or yokai, never between humans.

Her pack was twelve strong now, and Hashirama adored them all. Overgrown pups, for the most part, always eager to come out and play.

And utterly vicious in a fight.

It's comforting to have her at his back as he approaches the Senju Compound.

His task is difficult, though he supposes it's somewhat more palatable with a god at his back.

***

The Senju guards were most definitely expecting Hashirama, opening the gates before he'd even reached them.

They were most definitely not expecting Moro, and they stumbled over themselves to get away from her, having long forgotten the tales of the old gods and unable to recognize why her chakra was so intimidating.

He finds his father waiting for him in the center of the compound, flanked by his favorite supporters. Concerningly, Tobirama and Mito are both off to the side, surrounded by Shinobi Hashirama recognizes are not necessarily friends.

Tobirama catches his eye, but he doesn't give any of their signals for crisis or betrayal, so it seems Butsuma's paranoia has simply evolved. And since Hashirama didn't hide his chakra on his approach, Butsuma had time to gather the entire clan.

He does seem surprised by Moro, eyes widening as the wolf the size of a small house prowls behind Hashirama.

"What the fuck is that? You got a new summons, boy?"

Summons are not common among the Senju. Besides Hashirama's slugs and Tobirama's moths, there are no other summons in their generation, and Butsuma didn't think either of them was useful because neither were battle-oriented.

"You must be blind if you think I look like a mere summons," Moro growled as the clan backed away from her.

"So worried about showing your face that you brought a mutt for help? Couldn't get any of your precious red-eyed freaks to come with you? They all too afraid?"

"They couldn't agree on who got to come." It's a fight to stay calm, but worthwhile. Butsuma's inability to rial Hashirama has always bothered him.

But he seems calm now.

Annoyed but calm.

None of his usual tics, his eye, his cheek, clenched fists, are showing.

Why is Butsuma so calm?

And why is Tobirama so still?

***

Izuna is pacing when the runner comes.

Madara is locked in his office, bent over plans for his village in an attempt not to worry about what's happening a league away.

Izuna's been sneaking in at night and making nonsensical corrections in red ink just to annoy him, even though he's pretty much resigned to it at this point.

They need it to defeat Kaguya, anyway. That's more than enough reason to put up with the stuffy, egotistical Senju.

Midoriko has been watching him and laughing for the last ten minutes, and Hikaku and Itachi got annoyed and left a while ago.

Madara's chakra is blanketing the compound right now. His brother is an unparalleled sensor, capable of reaching the borders of the Land of Fire if he really tries, and he's been on the lookout ever since that damn fox showed up.

Hashirama insists Tobirama is just as skilled a sensor, but Hashirama is an idealistic idiot that Izuna frequently worries is going to hurt himself rather than his enemies, so he's withholding belief until he sees it himself.

Zetsu is nearby, and the thought of being able to gut that creepy-whatever-he-is enough to make Izuna salivate.

He's even recalled all the shinobi they had away on missions. Gathering an army for when he finally arrives.

But Izuna called dibs. He's already told the others, and Madara reluctantly promised not to interfere unless Izuna was going to lose, so Kaguya's little critter is going to die on Izuna's blade as is just and righteous.

And then Izuna's going to stick his head on a pike and mount it right in the middle of their new village.

See how Kaguya likes that.

He starts laughing, a little bit madly, to himself, and naturally, that's when the runner arrives.

Exhausted and out of breath, he still manages to look at Izuna like he's a weirdo until he snaps at him to report.

"Kaguya, Lord Izuna."

"Yes, I know, she sent her little troublemaker-"

"No! Clan Kaguya. A squad of them was hired by Senju Butsuma three nights ago."

Midoriko rises to her feet. Three days is more than enough time for that squad to travel from the Kaguya's homeland to the Senju Compound and set up an ambush for Hashirama.

The Kaguya are a formidable clan. Even Hashirama's mokuton struggles to break through their bone, and their love of battle as a means to cause harm and gain power is too much, even for the war-based Uchiha.

If he's not expecting them and Tobirama has failed to turn as many to their cause as he claims...There is a more than decent chance that Hashirama won't be able to win.

And fucking mother flame. They need him now, and Izuna's even a little bit fond of the overgrown dandelion, though he won't admit it out loud even on pain of death.

He's moving without even thinking about it, launching himself over the wall with a roar, "Tell my brother!"

Midoriko hot on his heels, and he could feel Hikaku, Itachi, Yoruichi, Kisuke, and several others close behind. Though Yoruichi, in particular, could outpace all of them. For now, she was content to follow, though Izuna has no doubt most of that was because she was smart enough to realize the amount of work that was going to go into the village and wanted no part of it.

Smart brat.

***

Why do people have to be this lonely? What's the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why? Was the earth put here just to nourish human loneliness?"

Haruki Murakami

***

Moro picked up the first wisps of smoke as Izuna led the Uchiha over the walls of the Senju compound. The appearance of the Kaguya had been an unfortunate surprise, as was their willingness to attack her.

Though even their bone wasn't enough for a fatal injury, it was not pleasant to be speared and stabbed a half-dozen times by shinobi who lusted after the smell of blood.

Especially since they were human and her own rules prevented her from simply killing them all. Hashirama had withstood their initial attack admirably, and if he hadn't been so damn worried about accidentally killing the Senju gathered nearby -well played, Butsuma- he probably could have done away with them without help and still survived.

As it is, Izuna and his ilk arrive just in time to sweep Hashirama clear of a fatal blow, and Moro finds that today is not the day she will have to answer for breaking the King of the Forest's chief law.

However, she does consider the reaction to Izuna leading the Uchiha over the walls of the Senju compound a bit dramatic. Screaming about demons and an invasion and causing mass panic when there was already a battle underway in a confined space was not the smartest choice.

But humans are young and silly as a whole, so it's not a complete surprise.

Especially when her Uchiha went straight for the Kaguya and ignored the Senju. and Hashirama had to put himself between his clan and the Uchiha to prevent them from being attacked by the same people they were trying to protect.

And Pretty Flower was still trying to reason with his father as everything fell into chaos. It was Kaguya against Uchiha against Senju against Senju and Hashirama's mokuton and the Kaguya's bone, and the Uchiha's fire filled the air.

The foreign princess was trying to evacuate people, and Snowflake had leaped into the fight to defend his brother, but he also didn't trust the Uchiha, so neither side was willing to show their backs, and they're all just a bunch of spoiled, stubborn children and one of these days she's going to give in to the urge to smack some sense into all of them.

She can feel the Calamity and another wave of Uchiha begin to move towards the Senju compound, but even chakra-enhanced speed will not get them here in the next few minutes. The fastest of the clan had arrived with Izuna, draining their chakra to make up the distance, and it was starting to show.

But so, too, were Snowflake's efforts to turn his clan to his brother's side. More Senju were off to the side, confused and reluctant, than were outright attacking Pretty Flower and the Uchiha.

And that smoke...

The wisp is becoming a scent on the wind, then a cloud, and it takes her attention away long enough to spot the flames crawling through the wheat fields, approaching the compound on three sides at a speed only a fire on a dry, hot summer day is capable of.

Behind the fire is nothing but a wall of smoke.

Ah.

So this is Zetsu's play.

She had wondered, just like Calamity and Pretty Flower, what his intentions were as he circled, and it seems in this life he's chosen to be a dramatic little bitch.

A painful keening cry rips her attention away from the fire, echoing out over the compound and the surrounding fields and drowning out the clash of flesh and metal.

Only her Uchiha make noises like that and only when....

She searches the chaos as the battlefield falls still.

And-

Oh...

***

Moro has not favored humans as long as Kuromaru. Is not as tied into their daily existence as he has become with his Inuzuka or even Okuniushi with their Aburame.

She maintains a distance, for their good as much as hers, because Moro has learned some hard lessons when it comes to humans.

They are frequently forgetful and callus and selfish.

They are terribly flighty and disappointing, and their whims seem to change with every breath.

They rarely make sense and, even more, rarely act with any kind of forethought.

Although Kuromaru claims she can't complain about that one, because time means something different to them.

Moro disagrees. She can hold her lot to whatever standard she chooses.

But the one overarching lesson she has learned about them, the one that hurts the most and makes every day with them painful, makes her regret her decision to walk among them, is this:

They are terribly, terribly fragile.

***

Midoriko wasn't born to a noble family, though she was born to a noble clan. Her parents served honorably, as did theirs, as did she. Though none of them are so notable as to be famous in their own right.

She loved deeply, even if it is only going to be briefly.

She has touched enough lives, for good and for bad, on the battlefield and beyond, to feel as though she is leaving a legacy, that she has accomplished something in her twenty years on this earth.

Her Sharingan burns bright and hot alongside the greatest of the age, and there is a new world on the horizon. She won't get to see it, but she is comforted by the fact that it is coming, and there is no force in this world strong enough to stop it.

To stop Madara and Hashirama.

Her dedicated, noble, slightly hysterical, frequently confused clan head and his sweet, optimistic, frequently stupid best friend.

Midoriko had been hoping to see them lead the shinobi against Kaguya and into the new world, and it is disappointing that she won't. She'd wanted to walk into the new days at Izuna's side, listen to him rant and whine about having to work alongside the Senju Ghost, and even more to the day when he realized his long-term rival was so, so similar to him (that's what she suspects anyway, based on Hashirama's stories).

Wanted to raise their children together. The future of the clan.

There hasn't been a baby born to the Uchiha clan in four years. Not since Kagami barely survived his birthing, and everyone has been desperate to hear the cries of an infant in the compound again.

Madara, most of all. Their terrifying, demonic, inhuman –according to the rest of the world- calamity of a clan leader has always wanted babes of his own. Midoriko still remembers how giddy Madara had been when Kagami's mother announced her pregnancy and how she'd found him admiring the clan montsuki the day before her wedding to Izuna. He'd already picked out the one he wanted to wear if he ever got married, though he seemed convinced it would never happen.

An Uchiha's devotion was a heavy thing, and many outside the clan were wary of being trapped in it for the rest of their lives. All Uchiha felt an intense desire for family and connection. Part of it was them and the short lives they lived and the memories they carried; part of it was the Sharingan longing for its own connections. Parasites couldn't survive alone, after all. It was why teaching the young had become the clan leader's responsibility, to help impart the importance of the children and their future in a clan that was as notorious for their love of battle as they were for their struggle to reproduce.

He's so excited about Kagami, though he won't admit it for fear of hurting the boy's aging grandfather. The old man knows though, had told Izuna he was pleased to know how happy Madara was, even if he was saddened by the idea of leaving his grandson behind.

For some reason the Sharingan won't share, Madara views Kagami as the only chance he will have to have children and a family of his own.

It's all very sad and never fails to make Midoriko thankful for her own luck in that realm.

This new world they are ushering in, though, it could be different. It could be peaceful and full of love instead of hate. There could be laughter in their house instead of tears and rage and that horrible, melancholy sadness that takes over Madara sometimes. Madara and Hashirama have their failings, by kami do they have failings, but they are at heart good men trying to do a good thing.

They're just also impatient, stubborn mules who have no concept of what fear can do to a normal person.

Watching them grow, even in such a short period, has been a pleasure. Watching them laugh and dream together, listening to what the village will look like when they are all together, Uchiha and Senju, and then all the others that will follow. To the generations that will come after.

Every once in a while, Madara and Hashirama talk about them when they think no one else is around. About someone named Naruto and a Sasuke and the things they've done? The things they are going to do? About Iruka and Itachi and Obito, whom they owe so many apologies to. About some Hatake they are so impressed with and a girl? Woman? Named Tsunade that Hashirama takes particular pride in.

Midoriko was looking forward to meeting them.

It's terribly, terribly easy, when thinking about all of that, to step in front of the blade that would have struck down Hashirama.

Wielded by his own father, no less.

She does regret that she'll die in his arms instead of Izuna's, but at least it's not dying alone on some foreign battlefield either or at the hand of bloodline thieves.

And she is fond of Hashirama. Terribly so.

He'll take care of Izuna too. She's confident in that as her lifeblood spills over his hands and onto the ground, and the light in her belly wanes and wanes until it's snuffed completely.

Distantly, she can hear Hashirama's sobs, so emotional, and Izuna's screams. Her poor man will have to go on without her, at least as long as it takes to defeat Kaguya. She will not allow him to join her in the Pure Land until she is defeated, but Midoriko is beyond caring now.

Beyond everything.

***

The pretty kunoichi Mito met beside the Naka is dead in Hashirama's arms. She doesn't have to be a healer to know that there is no healing jutsu in existence fast enough to staunch that kind of bleeding.

She took Butsuma's blade directly to the heart, as Hashirama would have if the Uchiha kunoichi hadn't stepped between them.

The other one, Madara's baby brother, the Izuna Hashirama, had written to her so fondly about, hasn't stopped screaming, demanding wake up, wake, please, don't leave, don't leave me, please.

And while she hasn't shared what Hashirama has told her in his letters, it's easy for everyone to see that she is his wife.

And that he loved her deeply.

Her death, or perhaps the action that led to it, seems to have paralyzed everyone else. The Uchiha in horror, the Senju in shock. Thankfully, the last of Kaguya falls to Tobirama's blade before he can take advantage, but there is still Butsuma and those loyal to him to deal with.

And the smoke.

The great white wolf, and Mito has never seen a creature that large before, seems more interested in the smoke than the battle. Looking over the walls of the compound more than she's paying attention to the shinobi attacking her.

Mito is not that familiar with fire, outside its use in the home. Uzushio is an island and so much water naturally limits the use of fire. And quite frankly, it is very rare to have a fire-natured shinobi born to them, but even to her untrained eye, the shade and thickness of the smoke is concerning.

As is the speed with which its spreading.

Butsuma is leaping for Hashirama again, and both he and Izuna are too distracted to realize. Mito grabs for her fan, catches Tobirama making hand signs, but it's neither of them that reaches Hashirama first.

Butsuma looks as surprised as the rest of them when jaws the size of a wagon close around him. The crunch of his bones and the squelch of his organs as they're crushed between the wolf's fangs are the last sounds he ever makes.

Well, except for the splat his remains make when it spits them out.

Even Mito will admit she's struck still by the end of Senju Butsuma.

At least she is until the wolf howls, "Flee, you fools!" as the fire crawls over the walls of the compound.

And then all hell truly breaks loose.

***

It's Sana that throws open the gates, knocking them clear off their hinges in her desperation.

It is the only exit not consumed by fire within seconds.

Panicked civilians of all ages flood it immediately while the shinobi go over the top of the wall itself. There are frantic grabs for the wounded and the elderly and the too young. The few foolish enough to try and run back to their homes to grab precious possessions are quickly consumed by the flames.

The wolf catches a few with her tail, knocking them clear over the wall to safety...provided they survived the landing.

Hashirama has recovered enough, still crying, to pick up the kunoichi's body, Izuna, and two children and clear the wall, his mokuton grabbing even more of the too-slow as he goes.

The other Uchiha have added their voices to the Senju, who have remained calm, yelling at people to move faster, grab those who can't keep up, and for Kami's sake, don't stop for anything! While one of their younger kunoichi loses what's left of her patience and just starts destroying the walls on either side of the gate with a few well-placed blows.

Mito checks on Nadeshinko and Behito, but her cousins are well suited to emergencies, loud and sharp and merciless as they herd the crowd forward.

Tobirama is darting around the end of the group, pitting his own speed against that of the fire and snatching as many as he can from the flames.

He only pauses once to yell at a Uchiha Sana vaguely recognizes as Hikaku, a cousin to Madara. "Can't you put it out, Uchiha?"

"It's not a normal flame," Hikaku yells back because, of course, they fucking tried that already. "It's not natural."

"Fucking hell, just run!" Renji yells, face bright red between the heat and the exertion.

They make it out of the compound, only to realize the fire is approaching from three sides, its flames nearly reaching the top of the compound walls and the smoke beginning to block out the sun.

There's only one direction to flee, towards the Uchiha compound, but even that is beginning to close.

***

There are chakra signatures approaching, and whether it's due to the panic or chaos, for the first time in his life, Tobirama is relieved to realize one of them is Madara.

If nothing else, the man's strong enough to carry several wounded.

Now that they're clear of the compound, pockets of civilians and shinobi are hesitating to run towards the Uchiha, and no matter how much he snarls to keep moving, they aren't, and the fire starts to close in.

It doesn't move like a normal fire. Hikaku must be correct. There's something besides the flame there, but Tobirama doesn't have the time or energy to devote to figuring out what it is now.

The Uchiha are doing their best to assist the unwilling, but it takes Tobirama, Touka, and Mito screaming their support to get some Senju to accept the help.

And then the wolves arrive.

The large one, the pack leader that arrived with Hashirama, crouches down, and the Uchiha immediately begins snatching children and tossing them onto her back.

There's a moment so poignant Tobirama can practically taste it, where he and every other Senju are thinking of the worst-case scenario. Of what it would have meant any day before today for a Uchiha to snatch their children.

But then the pack leader rises, and the others skid to a stop in front of any child they see, and their parents set aside generations of hatred faster than anyone else for a chance to save their children.

One mother even throws her baby as the flames claim her, her scream cut off abruptly as they close around her. The young Uchiha kunoichi that brought down the walls catches the wailing babe, handing her off to a teenager Tobirama vaguely recognizes from one of the weapon's shops and who doesn't hesitate to leap onto the nearest wolf and hold on for dear life as it takes off through the wheat.

That's when he notices it.

There's another chakra signature amid the flames.

Madara and the other Uchiha are still minutes away.

Hashirama is carrying as many as his mokuton can while also trying to fight off the flames, and his grief is still palpable in his erratic chakra. Izuna is of no use, terribly still, likely in shock. Mito, Hikaku, Sana, Renji, and a few others strong enough to note are doing their best to fight back against a fire that has a mind of its own.

But there is something in the fire. Something odd. Not natural.

Tobirama is the rear guard now and sends his strongest water dragon directly into the flames to see what happens.

The cloud of steam that results stings his eyes and lungs and doesn't slow the fire at all.

He can't use a wind jutsu to clear it away; he might not be an Uchiha, but he knows wind is useless against fire. Introducing more oxygen will only make it stronger.

He retreats a bit, just to avoid the flames, only glances back once to make sure the rest are still fleeing with purpose, and when he turns to track that strange chakra signature, he comes face to face...

With himself.

***

Madara can see the smoke on the horizon as soon as he leaves the compound.

He can see the fire by the halfway point.

And he can feel the exact moment Midoriko's Sharingan dies.

He trips, surprise and grief and rage coming on so quick he nearly goes to his knees and nothing but bullheaded determination and flat ground keeps him moving.

Izuna's chakra goes haywire, mad, and Hashirama's shudders in time with his sobs. Madara can feel it as if he were right next to them.

Moro's pack raced ahead. Whatever message she'd sent them had them returning to their true size and thundering across the fields in great leaps.

As he draws closer, he can see the extent of the fire. The smoke bringing on an early twilight and choking the oxygen from the air.

That alone should have slowed the fire, but it wasn't.

He can feel Hashirama and Izuna, whose chakra signature has gone terrifying flat, towards the middle of the pack, surrounded by so many others that Hashirama must be carrying.

Tobirama is the rear guard, Mito and Hikaku somewhere between them.

And...

Something else.

Zetsu.

Zetsu is somewhere in the flames, circling the rear and looking for his opening and Madara snarls, pushes more chakra into his feet, and feels his clan follow suit.

Only Zetsu would be mad enough to start a wildfire on a hot summer day. It's so dry that even Zetsu will never be able to control it. The fire will spread until there's no fuel left and leave the Land of Fire a barren stretch of ash.

That motherfucker.

All that sadness and loneliness, and reluctant hope turns to rage. That's always been Madara's strength. He can turn anything into motivation to fight. His chakra is rolling off him in waves, raising the temperature of the air around him.

Zetsu is creeping closer and closer, and then he's right there, his chakra mixing with Tobirama's.

The Rinnegan pulses.

Spins.

***

Desperation is the raw material of drastic change. Only those who can leave behind everything they have ever believed in can hope to escape.

William S. Burroughs

***

~tbc~