Between the years of Konoha's foundation and Naruto's birth.
Madara feels his age when his Sharingan sees greying strands over his right eye. After a failed attempt to convince the Uchiha to abandon Konoha, he explodes in fury.
"OPEN YOUR EYES!" Madara thunders to the Uchiha, and he sees them flinch at his chakra cracking the floor of the shrine.
His Sharingan whirls into its Mangekyou pattern in response to his hatred.
"I have witnessed the absolute tyranny that the Senju will impose on you, if you refuse to learn! I see now that I have shouldered your burdens for too long, and you have stagnated without conflict to strengthen you. Do you think that it's a coincidence that all of a sudden it is no longer the Hokage who picks the heir of his position? Just when a few gifted newcomers begin to show signs that they are capable of leading? You pathetic, miserable children."
Madara paces at the forefront of the shrine. Adult Uchiha are seated before him, sweating in the presence of his wrath. None offer so much as a rebuke.
Weak. In spirit, and in body.
"There is not a single Senju like Hashirama. There are no other Senju willing to see past their history with us. They would take us by the hand so that their other would sneak into our pockets." Madara's voice drops in volume. "I see now that this is not the village of the Uchiha and Senju, and I foresee that this clan will wither away like embers in the cold."
Still, not a single protest. Not one person is willing to entertain the thought that they are truly at risk. They grow fat in complacency.
One Uchiha female steps down into the shrine.
"Madara-sama! Hashirama-sama is here as you requested!"
He nods stoically to Naori, not letting a woman experience the brutality of his simmering rage.
"All of you leave. I will be giving you one last warning. One that may even cost me my life. And then you will see. That without the tools of fear and power, you will whittle away until it's too late. Now go. And suffer."
They scamper away like mice from a cat.
Hashirama enters the shrine, clad in robes befitting a Hokage. He looks around with something akin to wonder.
"Madara? What's this about?"
Madara turns to the stone tablet.
"Have you ever heard the history of the Rikudo Sennin?"
Madara is starting to get used to seeing through one eye.
It'd been a few months now since he'd used Izanagi to revive himself, and just as long since he'd taken a piece of Hashirama's flesh and implanted it on his heart, through the gaping wound on his chest.
It took weeks before he could eat without vomiting up some of it. Maybe that was a side-effect of actually being dead. His little hideout had been stocked with salted meats, just in case he couldn't find the strength to hunt.
Madara puts on a cloak, hiding his sickly pale skin that seemed to take a slight green tinge in certain light. It would come and go like a bad rash, but he learned not to be too vain about it as soon as he realized just how much sustenance that tiny piece of flesh really offered him. He could go significantly longer without water or food. He also cuts his hair down for the first time, leaving only short spikes of salt and pepper hair. A mask with a single hole over his functioning eye is to keep his face hidden.
He hides his chakra with the years of practice he'd gotten in while scheming to fake his death, and moves out into the world to see how every other nation is coping with the 'new' Shinobi system, a new era of the Hidden Village. It turns out, they are not coping at all.
Madara's death and Hashirama's condition has evidently made waves across the world, and now everyone seems to think that Konoha will be easy pickings. There is a war on the horizon. Now, instead of a few children dying in conflict against an enemy, it's an entire village's children being led to slaughter. The village system hadn't been a cure, it had been an escalation.
The Land of Rain has become a crucible. Previously ungifted and humble tradesmen and farmers have established their own home and become extremely hardy and resilient. Madara admires that they do not hide their hatred of the world that causes them to suffer behind useless platitudes of peace. Step in their borders and you are free game to them.
He travels around under many disguises, but the last place he visits is a coastal city where he meets a woman unlike any other.
There's about ten of these Uzumaki, all armed and ready to prevent any intrusion into their home.
"Ohayo!" Madara cheers in a high-pitched voice, also in his stupid guise inspired by Hashirama, he likes to think.
"State your business." The woman orders, short red hair flickering in the wind. She looks quite beautiful with the sun at her back, making her hair appear lighter.
"I got lost!" Madara lies shamelessly.
"He's barely got chakra at all." A sensor among them! How intriguing...
"I do too have lots of chatora!"
"This is wartime, stranger." The woman does not indulge his childish persona. "Trespassers bring trouble. I won't let you or this idiot persona of yours bring trouble to my clan. Leave or die."
"How about... You die!"
Madara picks up some dirt and throws it in her face.
She looks apoplectic while she menacingly draws her sword.
"My name is Uzumaki Haruka. And you have chosen... death."
Madara deftly cartwheels back to avoid a flurry of swipes from her blade.
Immediately, Uzumaki men surround him with swords poised to strike.
"Woah woah woah! This isn't fair at all!" Madara's head flails around, looking at every possible person to see who would attack first.
He ducks to avoid a swipe from behind, with sensory prowess that isn't possible for someone of his projected strength.
"Kidding!" Madara punts him, sending him flying a dozen yards.
Their little dance continues, Madara doesn't kill any of them but he doesn't let himself take a hit. It's all too fun just to humiliate them for trying.
"It's time for the secret art of the counter attack!" Madara leaps and hangs upside down on a tree branch.
The battered Uzumaki stiffen in fear.
"Ninpou: Erimakitokage(Ninja Art: Frilled-neck Lizard)!"
His cloak falls behind his back while he gives an awkward pose.
Madara's fun is ended when an aged voice interrupts before the Uzumaki can try and kill him again.
"Enough."
Of all the people to notice his presence.
Uzumaki Ashina orders his kin to stand down.
"None of you can defeat this man. I cannot defeat this man."
He hobbles forward with a cane-in-hand, beckoning Madara to come down from the tree. Madara does so, wondering if he needs to kill the man to preserve his hidden identity.
"You are a long way from home, and it seems you've picked up an interesting talent. But you cannot fool my senses."
"So it would seem." Madara's voice returns to normal, startling the surrounding Shinobi at his baritone.
Ashina continues without pause.
"I imagine your travels have not led you to a warm bed."
"They have not thus far. But I have greater things on my mind than hearth and home." Madara removes his hood, leaving the top of his greying hair exposed.
"Come and dine with me. I have lost enough sons to this war, I do not wish to lose any more. Least of all to someone who should be dead. You come as well, my daughter."
"Yes, Otou-sama." Haruka dips her head.
Madara doesn't have any children, but he supposes he gets it. He lost five brothers after all. And the rest of the traitors will be dead sooner or later, the Senju will see to that.
They walk into their village, built from stone with swirling patterns with the smell and taste of sea water permeating the air. Madara gets curious looks, but no more than a passing gaze while under his mask.
Ashina leads them to his very own home where they are greeted by his wife, who Madara sees where Mito and Haruka get their looks from. She is worn from the loss of her children, and it is something that visibly weighs on her.
"Please, take a seat. My wife will prepare tea."
"As you wish." Madara remembers his manners for once, and takes off his mask.
His Sharingan and pale eye seem to fascinate the Uzumaki girl(Haruka was it?).
"We will not say a word about your being here, Madara." Ashina says, unprompted. "But you appear like an omen. You threw the world into chaos when you fought Hashirama once more."
"I have not come to cause trouble." Madara replies, despite his antics. "You could say that I'm on a pilgrimage, to find meaning in this world that has forsaken my clan. I'm looking for a reason not to turn it on its head once more."
"This is surprising coming from you. I never took you as a man to stay at his feet and look around."
"I was younger then." Madara reminisces. "Driven singularly by fear and hatred. Fear that my family would be extinguished. Hatred at the Senju for facilitating that fear. I tied my existence heavily to that of the Uchiha Clan. Never once did I think of what I could be without them. I guess I'm looking for my own meaning. Trying to find out why I struggled to achieve peace."
Ashina takes a sip of his tea.
"I cannot say that I understand your desire to separate from your clan. Perhaps that is a fundamental difference between the Uzumaki and Uchiha. The Uzumaki and Senju, even. Tied to our blood, not our hearts."
"You are closer than you realise." Madara does not reveal the truth he'd divined from the stone tablet, but he does acknowledge that the elderly clan head is exceptionally wise for someone lacking actual evidence in the form of a message from the Rikudo.
"I admit to you Madara, your appearance here has given me something to consider. A proposal to you." Ashina seems to appreciate his time and would rather get to business.
"You must have an interesting proposal. What will it offer me?" Madara's plan has already been set in motion, he wants for little as it is.
"Train the young of my clan, and you will be given a home for as long as you need it. We have been far-removed from the rest of the world and I'd have liked to have kept it that way, but this Era of the Hidden Village has spurned into motion a great many evil deeds that will consume us as well. My clan have not been warriors for a very long time, and that is something that must change or else we will cease to exist entirely."
Madara toils over the offer for weeks before eventually accepting on several conditions. Chiefly among them is absolute control over the students he trains, in addition to secrecy regarding his identity. There is to be no mention of his existence at all to Konoha or the rest of the world by letter correspondence. If anyone asks, the Uzumaki were becoming strong through trial, not teaching.
The students and the rest of Uzushio know him only as 'Izuna'.
Training young people helps keep his body moving. He could be wasting away in a cave right now, waiting for his eyes to undergo a transformation that may or may not actually happen.
"Again." He orders an Uzumaki boy, demanding nothing but perfection from this new generation.
Sweat cakes down the red hair the boys face. Other Uzumaki boys are similarly battered, but each one has a will of iron. There was no giving up for them. From Madara's lectures, they understand that everything they know is at risk. Their clan is facing extinction if they do not find their strength. They already have resolve, perhaps that's a blood-trait of this clan.
The boy is weighed down by sand after Madara had ordered them to swim, then roll around on the beach. He is clearly exhausted but still he persists. The boy unleashes a roar and stomps his feet into the sand.
Water molecules begin to whirl around from this sealless Jutsu. An upright typhoon forms around him rapidly with more water drawn from the sea.
Madara vanishes before their eyes and delivers a hard punch to the boy's stomach. It sends him flying, but still he persists and finishes the Jutsu.
"Suiton: Daibakufu no Jutsu(Great Waterfall Technique)!"
Spurned into violent motion by strong Uzumaki chakra, a veritable tidal wave erupts and swamps the beach.
Madara smiles and knows that there are no better students to him than talented people who refuse to give up.
Three years pass. Against his will, Madara finds himself growing fond of these fiery people. And in turn, many of them grow fond of him too.
Ashina's daughter Haruka, is one person who seems to use all of her spare time to use him and further her own strength.
She corners him again while he's stargazing and lays next to him, undoubtedly plotting to ruin his night with another thirty demands to teach her personally. He has his hands full with the boys as it is, and it's not like a woman could compete with them.
"Why do you want strength?" Madara asks after having not done so for the time they'd known each other.
"To be of service to my clan." Haruka answers, almost in a questioning tone as if to say 'isn't it obvious?'.
"Most women your age are rearing children and yet, you have no husband nor suitors. Why is a female so resolute about being a warrior?"
"I-I..." Haruka looks down shamefully. "I have nothing else to offer."
"I do not understand," Madara goes on tactlessly. "A woman of your ability, beauty and status would be considered a rare and sought after spouse anywhere else in the world, why not here-"
"I cannot bear children."
That snaps Madara's jaw shut.
"Or rather, If I have a child then... I will most likely die." Haruka remains seated next to him, looking down at her hands. "Before these villages started forming, we were attacked by mercenary clans who were paid to clear us out so that the Daimyo who hired them may harvest from our bountiful lands and sea. Father returned the favor, naturally. But it was not without cost to us. I was but a baby when our home was gassed with poison from clans that come from Iwagakure."
"But you survived." Madara states the obvious, given her being here.
Haruka nods slowly at the corner of his eye. "You already know that we have strong chakra. But there is only so much that we can heal with something unrefined as generic healing. When I was old enough to understand, Mother and Father told me that my chakra was holding my body together, and should the day come that I have to give it to someone else, I would likely perish to keep them alive."
"I see." Madara nods thoughtfully. It makes sense now, the dedication to feel that she is needed by her people. Her chakra strength is weaker than other females in the clan, but her explanation makes it clear that most of her chakra is being converted into pure life force.
In a dream world, this fiery but earnest woman could have her husband and child. But this is not a dream world. Not. Yet.
His mind also whirls with questions. Is it possible to sustain the life force of another by using one's own? What part did the preservation and facilitation of life hold in the growth of a Shinobi, whose trade is death?
"You do not have children?" Haruka asks, dragging him from his thoughts.
"I never thought about it." Madara replies honestly. "Never once did I even entertain the thought. Most women, even in my own clan were terrified of me anyway."
"You're not that scary."
Madara doesn't reply, and thinks only of how with her persistence, he has fallen under her spell.
Madara and Haruka often find excuses to be in the same place at the same time. It is treated with exasperation by the local populace.
Two emotionally stunted people not understanding why exactly they enjoy each other's company.
He doesn't understand it until Ashina's passing. The man's last words to him are a revelation.
"Take care of her, Madara." Once red hair is now a stark white. Ashina's croak is weak. "You are the best decision I've made-" A long wheezy breath. "-for this village."
Madara knows that the man is happy to pass peacefully in his sleep. If only Ashina's sons had been afforded that luxury.
"I will." Madara promises.
Haruka's tear-filled eyes find their way to his chest, and he wraps his arms around her.
As someone who loves would.
Hashirama's death from 'mysterious illness' marks the beginning of the First Shinobi World War. It is a short war of only a year, but it costs the life of the freshly appointed Nidaime Hokage.
Madara laughs at the news, wishing he'd gutted the fool himself.
She is shaking fearfully. Not at him, but...
"I am with child."
Haruka is in his arms again. She is afraid of death. Afraid that she will not be the mother she'd dreamed of being.
"I will find a way. I always do."
Uchiha Madara's will is absolute, after all.
Haruka is screaming and crying in agony and her body refuses the command to stay alive.
Madara is getting desperate.
He places his hands over her heart.
In an instant, his salt and pepper hair becomes bone-white and he appears to age many years.
He pushes as much of his life force into her as he can. Studying the changes to his body with the inclusion of Hashirama's power has led him to believe that it's possible to exchange life force. If it can be taken, then it can be given.
And give, he does.
Uzumaki Kushina comes into the world kicking and screaming, to proud and very much alive parents; Uzumaki Izuna and Uzumaki Haruka.
Her hair is black as midnight, but Madara is quick to seal away any remnant of Uchiha power in her.
No-one says a word about his now eery, ringed purple gaze.
Kushina, or his 'little light', turns three quicker than Madara believed was possible.
She slams her chubby hands on the table.
"Baka Hashirama!"
Haruka rolls her eyes as Madara grins.
His wife sways whilst cooking dinner, and Madara catches her before she can stumble.
He moves to place his hand over her heart to impart his lifeforce unto her.
"Don't." Haruka catches it, looking him in the eyes. "You can only give me so much time. She's going to need you, Madara."
"I don't know how I can do that." Madara sighs, knowing that overt displays of protectiveness from him would immediately paint a target on his daughter's back.
"From the shadows, love. As you have for a great many years now."
Mito spends her last days as peacefully as she can, toiling over the fact that she is submitting another person to become an engine of war. The practice of Jinchuuriki defies what Hashirama stood for, but survival of the village trumps idealism. The Second World Shinobi War is on the horizon. Punches can no longer be pulled.
Tsunade is an unusually curious girl, always looking for answers. The story Mito is telling her in this moment is what inspired Tsunade to become a Medical Ninjutsu expert of unparalleled ability. If not for the fact that Senju were bred for war, Mito believed that Tsunade could have been another 'great mind' of the ages.
"Hashirama refused to allow anyone to come with him to fight Madara. It is easy to romanticize the idea that comrades standing together will overcome any foe, but Madara..." Mito gives a weak and weary sigh through cracked, aging lips. "Even Tobirama refused to go anywhere near that battle until it was over. Probably to pick apart Madara's body like a carrion bird."
Mito seemed disgusted by the concept and Tobirama's strange propensity for artificially making stronger Shinobi, or discovering weakness in those who killed his kin.
"But still, I went to the battle. The landscape was completely unrecognizable. Shattered pieces of Hashirama's strongest Jutsu littered the battlefield. The Kyuubi was in a deep trance, as if it were asleep. I had no idea such a vile beast could look peaceful."
"What happened then?" A younger Tsunade asks curiously.
"Hashirama and Madara were still fighting. After four days, without sleep and without food or water, nothing but the sheer power of their chakra kept them walking. Hashirama was using Senjutsu and yet still Madara matched him blow for blow. They were so absorbed in their fight, I doubt they even noticed I was there. I took my chance and sealed the Kyuubi within myself in case Madara figured out how to break Hashirama's hold over it."
Mito put a hand over where the seal lie.
"You were just a baby, our granddaughter who'd been born just one week before. I couldn't find it in me to give you this burden." Mito smiles at her so slightly. "I was quite young when I was wed to Hashirama, and your parents were quite young when you were born. Your grandfather saw this as something so immensely beautiful that he was willing to cut down his closest friend, so that others besides the Senju would experience the joy of creating life without fear, to revel at the gift of parenthood instead of detaching in case our children die."
"But if Jii-sama won, why did he die?"
"Because he didn't win. He tied with Madara. I stumbled back to the fight with my body heavy with chakra that didn't belong to me. Hashirama killed Madara through trickery, but you can't outfox the fox. Madara used all his strength while dying in the cold river to pull his chained blade into Hashirama's back."
Tsunade wisely stays silent at her grandmother's tears and shaky voice.
"There weren't any Jutsu that could heal him, back then at least. Only... delay the inevitable. That scythe that nearly took his arm off and had gone right through his lungs. Tobirama tried his best, but in the end Hashirama had nought but a few years left. He let Konoha democratically select Tobirama as their new leader, and spent his last years with his family and mentoring the new generation. I wish he'd lived long enough to meet Nawaki. He has a similar soul to his grandfather."
Mito sniffles, but Tsunade admires how dignified her grandmother still looks.
"I was too old to seal the Kyuubi within myself. Tobirama figured it out. The best way to seal this beast is within an Uzumaki, but one whose chakra system hasn't fully grown and developed yet. Any other Bijuu and I would have been fine, but this one is an entity in its own class. And now, it eats away at me from the inside, always clawing and scratching to get out. Uzumaki Kushina will be here soon. I've heard she's something of a little monster herself. Maybe this creature will find its home in her."
Tsunade chooses not to broach that topic.
"Naori-san never mentioned that about Madara." She says instead.
"Of course not." Mito's lips twist in a grimace. "Uchiha are all the same."
It seems there is still quite a bit of bitterness toward them about the death of her husband.
"Before becoming the vessel of the Kyuubi, you must be filled with love-"
"Yeah, yeah. So when do I get the Kyuubi?"
The wicked, power-hungry smile on Kushina's face does not ease Mito's heart.
"I had hoped that Uzushio would send someone more understanding of this burden."
"Shoulda thought about that before demanding something like a replacement human being from your former clan, Senju bitch."
The elderly Mito is struck by the vitriol of her niece.
Haruka sends a letter to her beloved daughter that her father had passed when in truth, he was by her bedside as she left the mortal plane.
A grand funeral is held for both he and his wife. Uzumaki Izuna and Uzumaki Haruka, to find their peace in the next life.
The death of his wife and use of his daughter by Konoha have reawakened a darkness in him that he had thought buried.
Madara takes periodic trips throughout the world, testing his Rinnegan in secrecy. The Gedo Mazo is proven as a real entity when he summons it from the moon. The strange white organic goblins spawned from the statue are sent to recover any spare Sharingan from the battlefields.
While returning from one such trip, he discovers that Uzushiogakure has been massacred by three of the 'Great Nations'. There are few survivors. Most Uzumaki wore Juin that would destroy their bodies before letting them be used by enemies. The Uzumaki were still a small clan and despite their near-overwhelming strength, they could still fall to numbers.
The bodies of men that he'd taught since they were boys are scorched and unrecognizable skeletons filling the streets of his proud and cultured home. The few survivors flee to every corner of the world, using the tricks he taught them to stay hidden in the shadows.
Madara, even with his lack of mobility in his age, calls upon the power of his legendary eyes to slaughter every last scavenger like the vile pigs they are.
"Izuna-sama!" An Uzumaki woman sobs in relief at his presence, a red-haired babe in her arms as her outsider husband supports them both.
This cursed and evil world has decimated these beautiful people.
"I have a favor to ask of you, dear Fuso."
"Anything!"
"I am too old for these eyes to be of any use to me now. I want your son to bear them for the sake of our clan."
'Until I walk the earth again to reclaim them.'
Madara's cunning smile is hidden as the broken Uchiha boy returns to the graveyard hideout.
"Tell me about your plan." Obito demands, his bloody visage determined.
The Eye of the Moon plan is set into motion once more, and the name Uchiha Madara is passed down to someone young and capable.
Black-Zetsu is spawned from his will, but only given the absolute critical memories required for the plan to succeed. A sentient clone of himself that could gain self-awareness at any point with his memories would be very bad for Kushina's ongoing existence.
He uses his scavenged Sharingan and brings himself back to live out his final days in observation of his daughter.
Or at least he had hoped.
Kushina's death is his own fault. He caused this. He caused the death of his own daughter to chase a dream instead of fixing reality. He may very well have doomed the world.
There is only one hope left.
"How about we make a deal? If you can master this new exercise before the day is up, I'll come back and teach you a Ninjutsu tomorrow."
Naruto visibly shakes in excitement.
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This is a very short chapter but I found once I started actually writing some of it, the more I liked the idea of giving a background chapter of the man who essentially raised Naruto.
Your reviews after the last chapter were welcome too, and some of you have been dm'ing me asking for story updates, which makes me blush a little in all honesty.
Some meatier stuff will be coming in the next chapters when reverting back to the present perspective, so I hope this will get you by until whenever the next chapter comes.
About Sage Mode: At no point did Madara discover that stillness was required to learn Senjutsu, so Naruto won't know either. What he did learn and pass on to Naruto was the ability to give and create life is crucial in the development of the power of the Rinnegan.
Six Paths Sage Mode: If I introduce this into the story, it may differ from its canon variant in functionality. Not so much a power boost as it will be a utility.
About Itachi: Itachi will not be terminally ill in this fanfic.