Chapter Text
Madara supposes that it could've been worse.
After a few hours of browsing what seemed to be the largest forest he thinks he's ever explored, only seeing nothing but the vibrant green leaves that looked more yellowish, an effect from the warm glow casted by the rays of sunlight, rustling as the wind picks up every now and then, some of the pesky leaves raining down from above, getting stuck in his hair (much to his displeasure), as well as the trunks of tall, reddish-brown mahogany trees looming over him, only slightly intimidating Madara.
He's finally seeing the fruits of his (unwanted) labour, the progress of his nonstop walking— trekking against his will, by the way— with a distinguishable pathway making itself known to Madara, much to his relief. He would've gone crazy had he kept exhausting his legs like this for an hour more, kicking tiny pebbles in his way occasionally, and being blindsided by the beam of the sun that peeked from above the clear sky from time to time. The leaves that acted as a barrier against the sunlight proved themselves to be quite useless in protecting him. Though, he kept looking up, if only to observe the sky, to check the time.
It was rather fortunate that he had finally managed to get out of the seemingly infinite surroundings of nothing but trees, trees, and more trees, and that he actually had a road, a trail to follow. Madara didn't want to spend an entire night inside a forest.
He's never been one for camping, really.
Looking up at the almost cloudless, endless sky once more, he's noticed that the orange-pink hue was slowly, but surely transitioning to a Prussian blue, indicating that night was creeping up. Madara supposed that he could just open his phone's flashlight to navigate the forest if he didn't manage to get out of there by twilight, but he didn't want his phone to die. He didn't know where he was at all, so it would be dangerous to have nothing at all, while being in an unfamiliar place.
Where the hell was he, anyway?
The last thing Madara did was playing his recent favourite videogame, Storm Ninja V, before he was suddenly sucked out of his world, then thrown into this place. Upon arriving home from his university, he immediately plugged his console, connecting it to his TV with an HDMI cable, plopped down on his usual seat (the floor), and opened Discord from his laptop, calling Hashirama before anything else. He hasn't even eaten yet, but it was fine, he had already bought a few snacks from his usual go-to convenience store on the way, and he was going to order take-out later since he knew he was going to stay in his seat for quite a few hours.
It wasn't everyday that he was given the luxury to engage in anything other than his studies, so whenever opportunity arises, he makes sure to make the most of it.
Hashirama greeted him with that usual eager tone, asking if he's made it home yet, which was a bit of a stupid question, in Madara's opinion. He's already on call with Hashirama, wasn't he? Obviously, he was home.
Madara wasn't very fond of small talk, but he usually didn't mind when it was Hashirama he was talking to. But right now, he was too impatient to entertain a half an hour session of ramblings, so as much as he loved hearing Hashirama's voice, instead he cut the other off and demanded him to hurry up and get on instead of getting distracted.
Madara was going to regret that later, but later is not now.
Truth to be told, Madara was just a bit annoyed, and eager to play, since it's been a week since he's had a match with Hashirama. He had to study for the whole week for his oral exams, leaving him unable to play, while Hashirama— that unfair tree-hugger— was probably improving his strategy and character's power up. Madara is not liking the increasing gap in their streak— in Hashirama's favour— that occured (and is still occuring) before the exams, so he was itching, itching to wipe that smirk off Hashirama's face, that Madara may or may not have imagined at all.
No— he was certain that Hashirama was secretly mocking him when he's out of earshot, that he was beating Madara's ass. No matter how many times Hashirama insisted that he played with Madara for the fun of it, Madara knew he was gloating.
So with that information, Madara is anticipating for the next couple of hours they're going to be spending doing nothing but play this game, and he wasn't going to forgive Hashirama if he suddenly had something to do, and couldn't play the game with Madara, considering that they've planned this schedule a few days ago. College is unpredictable, really, and Madara wanted to finish each and every work he had to do before anything else. He is a good scholar, after all.
That, and his free tuition won't be so free anymore if he fails his classes.
And it seemed that luck was on his side today, since he's been getting wins after wins, never letting Hashirama's character make a combo move, catching up on their streak very quickly, and before he knew it, he was one win away from having the upper hand with Hashirama. One win, and tie will be broken, in Madara's favour.
That tree-hugger was clearly getting pumped up as well, taunting (though, it's significantly much friendlier than the words Madara's mouth has been spewing for the past few hours) Madara in their VC a bit more often than usual. They've spent a good 3 hours already, and Madara hasn't even ordered take-out yet, but it was fine. It will be worth it to see the familiar victory win that's going to grace Madara's screen in just a couple of minutes, after he's folded Hashirama.
It was probably bad for his eyesight being so close to the TV screen all the time, its negative effects already disrupting Madara's daily life with how even the medium-sized words in his books were getting more blurry these days. When he visited Izuna the other day, his younger brother suggested that he should get a pair of glasses, and of course, how could he possibly say no to such a request from his beloved brother (or any request from him, really.)?
Though, he apologised to Izuna in his mind for taking off his glasses while playing, since he wasn't used to it, and it was making the bridge of his nose irritated, and he didn't want to get distracted in any way, shape, or form when fighting Hashirama.
He was close, he was already preening from the future win he's sure he's secured. He sees Hashirama's character's health bar facing more and more damage, a combo move from Madara was to thank for that. Madara was practically standing up in anticipation, getting closer to the screen.
Suddenly, he was hit with the worst headache of his life, feeling nauseous. He was confused, and a bit irritated for feeling sick now.
Then, before he knew it, he felt like he was being pulled in all directions at the same time, he wanted to throw up, and much to his horror, he started levitating. Looking down, his feet wasn't touching the ground anymore, making him panic as he thrashed around the air (what the hell???), and then—
He saw nothing but white, a blinding flash of light.
Madara found himself inside a spacious, gloomy cave. Looking around, he saw a few things cluttered on the surface of a rock nearby. Is someone living here?
He could barely see anything, and the glimpses of sunlight peeking from the cracks of the bumpy stones from the ceiling were the only source of light guiding the passage he was walking towards, as he tried to find a way out. To his luck, the hall he was tailing seemed to be getting brighter, and a few minutes later, he finally found the entrance of the cave, so he didn't have to spend much time in the dark, after all.
Though, leaving the cave resulted in him wandering around the forest, which was a little bit, but not much, better in his opinion. He would've rather seen everything than nothing. Clutching the backpack he realised he brought along with him— and no wonder why Madara felt something heavy, he hadn't even taken his bag off the moment he entered his apartment— he started his exploration in this uncharted territory.
Sure, he may have had his own ups and downs. His ups consisted of him taking a break every hour, sitting on the dirty ground, beside trees, admiring the scenery he doesn't get to see very often. His downs outnumbered his ups.
He got bitten by ants every couple of minutes, he was extremely sticky and sweaty, and he had to remove his jacket, causing ants to bite more of his skin. He was itchy, he slipped at an embarrassing amount of times, and he was just glad that no one was around to see him fail miserably in engaging in normal activities. The most he's ever done is walk around the park, or jog, if he was feeling athletic that day.
He was sure he was also going a bit insane, he started talking to the trees, cursing them for their humongous size, for the ants residing in it. He was certain he saw a snake at one point, it almost made him sick. He quickly, stealthily, but surely backed away before the snake became aware of his presence, so it was a success. Maybe that's going on his imaginary ups list. He started glaring at the sun, which seemed to irritate his eyes whenever it peeked out from the leaves.
And there he was now, walking along in a pathway that he was sure would lead to somewhere, eventually. The agonizing time he's had inside of that forest was almost instantly a forgotten memory the moment he gazed upon a gigantic gate from a distance, and he sighed in relief. Finally, he had found something.
Tucking his side bangs for a moment, just to be able to see better (though, it did not help in any way whatsoever), he squinted his eyes, seeing two blurry figures standing infront of the said large doors. He didn't know what they were doing, nor did he see the expressions they were making, but he saw one of the blurry figures run back to the... city? village? Village.
Madara waved at them in hopes of being noticed, wanting help, just to know where he was.
Truth to be told, he had an inkling that he wasn't in his world anymore, considering the rather unusual way he was brought here. It was impossible, even to his own ears, but he felt like he had somehow managed to time travel somewhere.
He didn't believe in any of that, not really. It was impossible to get from one place to another— teleportation— much less actual time travel! But what else could describe the situation he was in right now, then?
So, he opted for time travel.
Seeing the two blurry figures getting, he wondered if they saw him— wait, they did. They're running towards him.
"Madara Uchiha has been witnessed outside of the village!" One of them yelled, looking back inside the gate.
How did they know his name?
Before he could comprehend anything, he found himself chained, the two guards— whom were wearing clothing that seemed like it came out of an ancient theatre play— whom were just off in the distance a few moments ago, were suddenly beside him, wearing similar expressions of triumph, and distaste, much to Madara's confusion.
As if suddenly remembering that they had randomly ganged up on him and chained him up, he got reasonably angry, "Hey, what the hell's with the chains?" Madara asked, and for a moment, he felt the two guards suddenly tense up, their posture tight, expectant. Though, it only lasted so quickly that he wondered if he imagined it, before one of them spoke.
"These chains provide a sealing technique that acts as a bound for your chakra. Your ninjutsu is useless, Uchiha." The guard on his right hissed, as if Madara had offended him merely with his presence. They tugged at the chains connecting to the cuffs they bound him with, and before he knew it, he was being dragged to the village they came from.
Upon entering the village, he was met with the most unwelcoming stares he's ever received from the people inside, their whispers about as quiet as an annoying mosquito who wouldn't stop buzzing beside one's ear.
"How shameless, that guy returning to the village!"
"I heard he was seen inspecting around the gates, do you suppose that he was attempting an attack?"
"Terrible."
Madara whipped his head at the source of the voice, only to find that the offending assumptions of his actions came from a group of people, an old lady whispering to a few men.
"Excuse me, attack?!" Madara shouted, not liking what they were trying to insinuate. He hasn't even done anything in this world that would justify that type of reaction from these people, he didn't know what their problems were. The civilians around him suddenly became rigid, quite similar to how the guards acted earlier. Suddenly, he felt another harsh tug from one of the guards, and he sent an irritated glare in their way, to which they returned with a harsher one, as if telling him to stay in his lane. Madara felt a bit intimidated, to be honest, but he wasn't about to admit that.
He was guided through the center of the village, a large building freshly coated in a beautiful scarlet red painting. The structure must've been recently established, Madara assumed, with how new it looked. From then on, he climbed a few more stairs, much to his dismay. He hasn't had a break from moving his legs since an hour ago, and they felt a bit like jelly. Excuse him for not having the most ideal stamina, though it was to be expected, he wasn't one for exploring forests, nor walking at a long distance.
He's aware that he's quite of a shut-in. His social circle consisted of like, two to three people, and he wasn't about to add anyone else in that imaginary list anytime soon. It was exhausting keeping up with conversations, and going out to different places. Plus, he was already busy with his studies, so he had no time.
With that being said, since he hasn't had the time— nor the desire, to be honest— in going out or improving his physical build. But maybe it was time to change that once he gets back in his world (even if he detested the idea of moving an inch of his muscles in any way more than necessary), lest he experience this kind of situation again.
Touch some grass, as they say.
They reached the end of the hallway, a closed wooden door with a symbol greeting them. One of the guards opened the door, revealing a tall albino wearing a simple black turtleneck and pants, holding a bunch of papers in his hand. The man's grip tightened upon his arrival, though he wasn't looking at the wrinkled papers, but rather at Madara. It was as if the other was expecting his presence.
Wait, hold on. He knew that guy.
"Tobirama? The hell are you doing here?" Madara blurted out before he could even think, surprised at his best friend's younger brother sudden appearance. Was he thrown into this world, just like him?
Ugh.
Okay, it wasn't that he hated Tobirama (at least, not that much anyway), he just... didn't get along with him all that well, both from his and the younger man's side. Tobirama had a certain air on him that made Madara bristle in annoyance every time he saw the guy. Despite clearly being younger (a senior high school student, mind you), Tobirama acted as if he was better than everyone else, with that haughty know-it-all attitude, and it usually got on Madara's nerves (it was ironic, however, considering that Madara also had a similar phase. Though, he grew out of it before college).
Any words that come out of Tobirama's mouth was sure to make Madara roll his eyes, so didn't know how Izuna and Tobirama even got along together, they weren't exactly the duo Madara expected to be friends. If anything, he expected for Izuna to dislike the guy, since Izuna is the type of person to be seen in parties (or, well, like to go to a bunch of parties, anyway), or sneak out. A true rebel in-the-making, a rule-breaker that would surely be the cause of Madara's headaches in the future, once he gets out of the hospital.
Izuna's already been telling Madara about his grand plans of his upcoming escapades.
Tobirama is just, so, Madara tried to think of a word to describe him, but couldn't come up as of right now. Obedient? A law-abider, a stuck up, a stick-in-the-mud, an anything that Izuna wouldn't want to get along with, under normal circumstances.
He couldn't deny the friendship the two had, and though they always seemed more like they were arguing rather than getting along (or more like Izuna ruffling Tobirama's feathers any chance he could get, and Tobirama being gullible enough to fall for them everytime), Madara knew it was just part of their bond, or whatever.
With that being said, Madara and Tobirama usually didn't talk to each other much unless it was necessary, they had a silent agreement not to engage with each other, in order not to get on the other's nerves, and the civil setup was just fine for Madara.
This Tobirama didn't seem to recall their shared consensus.
"Why have you gone back to the village, Uchiha?" Tobirama hissed with such hostility that even Madara was a bit surprised. Hashirama's brother certainly disliked him, but Madara was at least sure that the other didn't outright detest him, did he?
Madara was a bit annoyed by Tobirama's prickly attitude, but he wanted to voice his top complaint first. "I wasn't even doing anything, when these people suddenly chained me up like some dog! Did you tell them to do this, Tobirama?" He tugged at the chains binding him as an expression of irritation.
Before he could move any further, he found himself with a kunai threatening to slit his throat and stomach open, and the most fiery glare from Tobirama, his mouth contorted to a harsh scowl. Madara was not intimidated at all.
Hm, only a little.
"Look,"
He didn't want to admit his unease with the other's glower, so instead Madara's eyebrows furrowed in slight dismay, "Tobirama, I don't know how you got sucked into this world with me," he started— trying not to let his annoyance show any further at being stuck with him, out of all people— wanting to get straight to the point. "but we should probably find a way back, before Hashirama notices that we're gone."
Tobirama's eyes narrowed further, if that was possible, giving a gaze so scrutinizing that it took even Madara aback. They didn't like each other, sure, but Madara couldn't seem to recall doing anything that would warrant even that look of resentment from Tobirama. Really, what was everyone's problem with him today?
"What kind of nonsense are you spouting?" Tobirama interrogated, "Did you regret deserting this village which you've already forsook, which is why you can't seem to recall the threats you've sent to my brother, rendering him unable to work properly for weeks?" Tobirama spoke so seriously, that Madara couldn't take him seriously.
This was why he couldn't get along with the guy. In the back of his mind, Madara thought that Tobirama has a punchable face right now, and apologised to Hashirama in his mind for insulting his younger brother's face.
Though, it just made him even more puzzled. Him? Threaten his brother? Forsaking this village? What the hell was Tobirama talking about. With a period, not a question mark, because Tobirama's accusations were ridiculous.
Madara didn't recall doing any of the sort, and he almost suspected that Tobirama was either brainwashed, or he belonged in this world. Maybe this was an alternate universe, and he got transported here, instead of just time travelling at a different point in time.
Tobirama must've decided that Madara had nothing to say left, seeing as he ordered the guards to bring him somewhere, and before he knew it they were leaving the office, going back downstairs as he was subjected to the gazes of the villagers once more.
He found himself in a cold cell.
It was a bit comical that the prison he landed on looked so old fashioned, straight out a fictional dungeon. Though, it was kind of dark, the only source of light coming from the moonlight from that small arch top window. Other than that, he is surrounded by concrete walls, making him feel claustrophobic inside the cell. There was nothing at all, and Madara felt a bit more pathetic landing here.
Madara was a bit peeved, watching as his backpack was being checked by the guards, as well as Tobirama. He didn't know why they looked so intimidated while rummaging inside, it was as if they were bracing for something. What did they assume they'd find there? His notes and pens? His calculator? Some books? Madara wished he had somehow put a jack-in-the-box toy there. It was probably a petty thing for him to do so, but at least they'd have an actual reason to be looking so cautious like that.
He thought about his phone again, and he was extremely glad that he had already turned it off hours earlier, and hid it in his pocket. He had a feeling that they would also confiscate his phone, if he had pulled it out right now, so he didn't dare make that mistake.
Tobirama pulled out one of his Economics book, and as if curious to see the contents inside, opened the thick pages. Its bookmarks immediately fell out, Madara's hours of hard work spreading all over the floor. Madara was annoyed, cursing at them from the cell.
"I just rearranged them, asshole." He muttered to himself, looking down at the bookmarks pitifully lying down on the floor. They didn't even bother picking it up, as Tobirama seemed like he was interested to read it, skimming from page to page, before shutting it close when he noticed that Madara was just staring at him. Tobirama forced his expression back into a neutral one, but Madara knew that his book had peaked Tobirama's curiosity. The younger man walked up to him, holding Madara's book up.
"What is this?" Tobirama asked impatiently, as if he was entitled to an explanation.
Madara raised an eyebrow, "A book? What, you've never seen one before?" Sarcastic, he imitated the younger man's tone out of spite.
Tobirama bristled, seemingly irritated. It filled Madara with a great sense of satisfaction, that should teach the brat not to be so demanding.
"You and your mouth." Tobirama scowled, "Do refrain from speaking in such a manner, lest you find your tongue bleeding, cut off with a kunai. You have no power here, Madara Uchiha. You are a prisoner."
Madara was tempted to clap back another retort, but he felt like this Tobirama would follow through with his threat. Madara wasn't scared, he was being practical, and that included calming down and trying not to rile the other up. See, he was the bigger person here.
As if noticing something, Tobirama straightened up, his wary gaze locked onto Madara, scrutinizing.
"Stop trying to conceal your chakra signature. You're already imprisoned, there's no use trying to hide it any further." Tobirama spat, his face contorted into one of aggravation. Madara could feel the tension from the man's body, he doesn't think this Tobirama likes this world's Madara all that much.
Looking at the other's disgruntled face, Madara thinks Tobirama doesn't like him at all.
Well, it wasn't all that different from his own world, after all.
"Chakra? You mean like ki? I don't engage in spiritual exercises." Madara replied flatly, and he could see Tobirama's lip curl into a sneer, seemingly dissatisfied with his answer.
"What kind of tactics are you playing at, Uchiha? You know very well what I'm talking about." Tobirama practically hissed, much to Madara's growing exasperation. Not even the Tobirama from his world is this hard to talk to. Madara has been trying to convince him that he's not the man the younger man thought he was on the way to this shitty prison, but to no avail. This Tobirama was stubborn.
"I already told you, I'm probably not the Madara you're referring to." Madara tried again, in hopes that the younger man would somehow miraculously finally listen to a word he's saying.
"You responded to the name Madara Uchiha, and you certainly look like him. Are you feigning amnesia? Could that be the reason as to why you're acting like a reckless fool?" Tobirama wasn't letting this go, it seemed. Madara was quickly getting tired of this interrogation. "I am no fool, Madara. It would be in your best interest to abandon whatever type of scheme it is you're trying to do, before my patience runs out." The younger man threatened, his tone vehement. It seemed that that's all Madara's ever heard ever since landing in this universe. Threats.
"Hashirama may have granted you mercy countless of times, but you and I know that I would not be as kind."
"Look, I don't know what your problem is. I already told you, I was in the middle of something, and then I suddenly ended up here. I don't know what you mean by my chakra, I don't have any knowledge about chakras." Madara tried to explain again, he feels like he's talking to a child who can't comprehend any words he's saying. Or maybe Tobirama really just didn't want to listen to him at all.
"How else would you be alive, then, if not for your chakra?"
"... My heart? My blood? My organs?" Madara answered, his questioning tone making Tobirama ticked off, stepping closer as if to try and intimidate Madara. The only thing separating the two were the hard metal rods between them.
"Seeing as you are lacking tact in answering questions, it is almost believable that you've somehow lost your memories." Tobirama smirked, as if he just said the most impactful thing in the world.
Madara did not care for Tobirama's words nor Tobirama himself, at all. However, he perked up at the mention of his best friend, anyone would be significantly better to talk to than this guy infront of him. So, he let that insult from the other slide.
"You mentioned Hashirama, I want to talk to him, where is he? If he's anything like the Hashirama in my—"
"— My brother's whereabouts are none of your business." Tobirama immediately shut him down before Madara could even finish his request, looking at Madara as if he he were the most disgusting person in existence, repulsed. "How utterly shameless of you to request for my elder brother's presence as if you're still entitled to it, as if your spiteful threats did not leave him distressed, unable to function as the Hokage had I not set him straight, had I not reminded him what truly mattered the most, more than some vermin trying to worm hatred in my brother's brain, like a parasite." The air changed, Madara could feel it. Tobirama directed his insults at him, and Madara found himself a bit intimidated, yes, but not fully offended by his words, considering that Tobirama's tirade was not really for him.
Or maybe he was offended, a little, for himself. The Madara Uchiha in this universe (apparently) did that to Hashirama?
"You plead for Hashirama for mercy, yet have you heeded his pleas when he begged for you to reconsider your priorities? Have you adhered to my brothers request for your return, the same way he's always made sure your words are heard?" Tobirama was really angry right now. That was all Madara could think about.
"Hmph. You have no position in Konoha, Madara, not anymore. Not since you have abandoned our village. Don't act so high and mighty now, thinking that you can take advantage of my brother's boundless generosity anytime you please." Tobirama finalized— and Madara felt a slight sting at that— before turning his back on him, placing the book he was holding back in the desk, along with his other stuff.
Tobirama ordered the guards, "Stay vigilant. Watch Madara Uchiha closely, and do not let him out of your sight for even a single second. His ninjutsu may not be of use to him as of this moment, however he is still a force to be reckoned with. Do any means necessary to prevent his mobility, should he attempt a breakout."
And with that, the younger man finally left the prison, closing the door, and leaving Madara alone with the two guards.
Just as Tobirama ordered, they kept a watchful eye on him, just incase he tried something, which was stupid in his opinion. What was Madara even going to do, imprisoned like this? They never even took the chakra-binding chains off his wrists.
Over the course of the next few hours, Madara laid down on the cold, stone floor. He had no blanket or anything, so he just took off the hoodie he was wearing, huddling it to use it as a (horrible) pillow. It was far from comfortable, but it was better than nothing. He had nothing else to do, so he looked up at the arch top window, and saw that it was already midnight. The stars scattered across the stratosphere, and Madara was a bit surprised to see so many. There weren't that many stars in his world, due to all the light pollution and whatnot. The sky would've probably looked beautiful in Madara's eyes, if only there weren't any barriers on the window ruining the sight.
Well, not that he liked stargazing, anyway.
He was hungry as well, though, he was not allowed to eat at all. They didn't even let him eat his snacks when he asked for it. Madara had to call them a couple of times, and yet they didn't respond to him, so Madara felt like they were deliberately trying to ignore him. The only reaction he's ever gotten out of the two were their matching stern glares.
Tired, hungry, sore from walking for miles for hours, Madara thinks that nothing can possibly be worse than this.
He thought about his situation.
Konoha.
Finally, a name. He tried to think of any place on the map, but to no avail. It confirmed his suspicion, then. He really was transported to another world, or an alternate universe, considering that Tobirama and Hashirama were here as well, but different.
How did time even work in here compared to his on world, anyway? He's not one for reading science fiction novels, but he has watched a couple of movies where the main character went to a different world, spent a significant amount of time there. He wasn't all that interested in watching sci-fi, but he wasn't completely unfamiliar with the concept. The main character usually came back from whatever fantasy world they came from, only to find out that time had not passed by that much in their own world at all.
Madara hoped that was the case.
He cringed at the electricity bill he was sure he wouldn't be able to pay off once he got back, if it really worked that way. He had his rice cooker plugged in, his laptop, his TV, his fan. He also needed to pay for his rent, he didn't want to find himself evicted the moment he arrived back home.
He had to visit Izuna the day after tomorrow as well, he didn't want his baby brother to be alone in the hospital all day, and it was his day off, so he could spend the whole day with him. His brother would surely be concerned if he didn't come by, and Madara didn't want to add to Izuna's worries. He didn't want his brother to feel like Madara abandoned him all alone.
It's just the two of them now, has been for years.
The first memory he has of his mother that can he recall on top of his head isn't all that clear. They were more like fragments of moments, like short video clips, that he sees when he tries to think of his childhood, rather than a full, vivid picture. But sometimes, Madara can almost feel it, the warmth of the hand from above his head, because his father had patted him, congratulated him for something he doesn't remember doing. Maybe it was because of an award, maybe he had accomplished some small feat long ago. And then, his mother was hugging him, embracing him with her warmth, and Madara could feel a sudden kick from her stomach. Madara doesn't remember how it exactly played out, because maybe he remembered the memory in the wrong sequence, maybe Izuna kicked first, before his parents congratulated him. But he supposed the chronological order didn't matter all that much.
And then, after that, it's a bit more clear to Madara, the first time Izuna came into the world, a God's gift that his mother brought for them. Weak as his mother usually was, Madara thought that she was the strongest woman he's ever met at that very moment, and then he loved Izuna as well, because Izuna looked so much like his mother, acted so much like her. He was proud of Izuna just for existing.
Izuna was playful, and though he he'd be lying to himself if he didn't say that he hadn't felt the envy from the sudden attention his baby brother got from his mother, it was fine, because Izuna was worthy of attention, brought the whole family together. It didn't last for long, anyway, because his love for his little brother outweighed the resentment he never got to (and would never want to) fully develop. It died out quickly, rather, as if it were an insignificant candle Madara had blown out.
And just as easy as it was for their family to be brought together, it was also easy to break it apart.
Before he knew it, he could feel holding his mother's hand, but instead of the warmth, the comfort it had, it was so, so cold, like she dunked it into a bucket of iced water.
Leukemia is a horrible disease.
Tajima's heart died with her, cold. Madara's mother held his father's heart after all, and her hand had always been warm, maybe she held it for so long that Tajima got so used to it, that when she let go, he couldn't take the unexpected lack of that warmth.
With the loss of Tajima's heart, so did his attention. It was like a flip had been switched, he was so consumed by grief that he would rather work, he would rather forget about anything that reminded Tajima of his wife.
What rapidly deteriorating amount of attention Tajima couldn't give to Izuna at the moment, Madara provided for him. Because Izuna was young, and Izuna is precious, he came from their mother, he was Madara's dearest sibling, his only sibling. What praise their father neglected to say to Izuna, Madara gave— no, he multiplied, because Izuna was worthy of attention, he was destined to be happy, no matter what the world threw at them.
Madara wanted to hate Tajima. He resented him, but he could never seem to despise him.
Because, in some rare instances (it stung for Madara to consider the fact that the warmth of his father he used to freely give away was rare now.), he could almost see a ghost of smile from the corner of his father's face, or maybe it was their mother's ghost, trying to remind Tajima that she's still there. Madara's father seemed unaware of her signs, though, if that were the case. That proud smile, as tiny as it was (so small that Madara always felt like he was hallucinating, imagining it, like how he tries to imagine that they're still happy, complete), instantly removed any sort of hatred Madara held for his father, it happened whenever he least expected it. He doesn't expect for Tajima to ask about his activities anymore, because he was never home these days.
Tajima never congratulated him, but maybe Madara was so starved for attention these days that he was over the moon just seeing even the most miniscule sign of affection from his father.
And then, as if something happened that Madara was unaware of, Tajima had changed again.
And then, Tajima was never home. And then, he was home on weekends. And then, he wants to introduce Madara and Izuna with their relatives. And then, they started to go out to eat every Friday night. And then, he went up on stage to put on the elementary graduation medal in Izuna's neck. And then, and then, And then,
And then Tajima died when Madara was 16.
It felt like the world was mocking Madara, like they were taunting him, cackling at his face for feeling so hopeful.
Then, it really was just Madara and Izuna. Hashirama invited them to their humble home, and they were welcomed by his friend's mother, his little brother Tobirama... and Butsuma Senju.
It was a bit nerve-wracking, because Madara knew that Butsuma and his father never got along well. Though, strict as Butsuma was, he never drove them away, because even he had a heart, apparently. Even if he didn't like their father, Butsuma never said or did anything that would make them feel uninvited, and Madara and Izuna did stay for a little while. No, instead, they were hospitable, friendly. Warm.
Madara missed warm.
Izuna got into an accident, and had to stay in the hospital. Hashirama's parents insisted on paying for their bills, and Madara was extremely grateful. The injury Izuna got wasn't all that bad, but they found something else.
Izuna had Leukemia. He really was just like their mother.
Madara had never felt so embarrassed in his entire life, when Hashirama's mother offered to help him with the bills. He was extremely ashamed. He was leeching off his friend, taking advantage of Hashirama's kind nature.
He got a scholarship, because God knows he could never afford tuition. He found a few part time jobs, and even if the pay wasn't all that great, considering that he was still a minor, the moment he could, he rented an apartment. He could not bear the humiliation of taking, taking, taking something from the Senju family knowing that he could never pay them back. He visited Izuna every moment he could, he had no time for anything else.
It was time to bid adieu to a house of 6, and greet a welcome to a shitty apartment of 2.
Though, it was more like an apartment of 1, because Izuna was in the hospital. But still, an apartment of 2, because once Izuna gets discharged, he will surely complain, whine for sleeping with his older brother even though he's already older. Madara does not think that Izuna is old.
Madara is a boatman stranded in the middle of the sea during midnight. Everything is pitch black, he can't even see the sea, and not even the stars and the moon reflecting in the endless ocean of water are able to help him. And then, Izuna's smile is the lighthouse. He's the guiding light that Madara holds onto, the one Madara can count on to bring him back to land.
That lighthouse is getting a bit more difficult to locate these days. Everything around Madara is foggy, he needs a surface to ground on. The lighthouse is getting farther the more he gets stranded, and maybe even dimmer. Madara hasn't gotten it out of Izuna yet, but he was sure that Izuna is sick of him. He must've been thinking, wondering why he got stuck with the most unreliable brother in the entire world, that he couldn't make Izuna happy. Izuna smiles at him, but something is clawing at the back of his mind, a monster, judging him, shouting on his ear to remind him that Izuna could've gotten such a better life, had Madara just tried harder.
Hashirama was also worried about him, he was more than okay to take Madara back to their home, but Madara didn't want to. He couldn't, not without feeling like a burden.
With a hesitant smile, Hashirama let it go. Hashirama must've thought that Madara is burdensome.
Madara thought about his match with Hashirama. That tree-hugger would probably wonder about the sudden lack of victory cry coming from Madara's call, and assume that Madara went to the bathroom. If time really passed by just normally while he's here, it wouldn't take long before Hashirama would get worried, and maybe even check up on him. The distance of their places weren't that far, and Hashirama would surely come over.
Hashirama's always been that kind, after all.
He's a bit of a mother hen with how he frets over Madara (though, it was something that Madara never complained about, a shameful part of him thrived off of Hashirama's attention), he makes sure that they eat together with the food Hashirama himself cooked, because he found out that Madara goes for coffee on breakfast, sometimes skips lunch, and orders take-outs on dinner. Hashirama came over often these days, because he wants to check up on Madara and make sure that he's not drowning in his books and school works, or being left alone with his thoughts. Especially after...
Hashirama was too good for him, really.
Madara didn't know how he managed to befriend such a man, nor did he think he deserved it. He's always been there for Madara, and at times, Madara felt guilty for always leeching off his best friend. Madara isn't exactly the ideal person to be friends with, he's the worst at interaction, and he barely talks to anyone in his classes. He tried to think of other people in his life, but found himself with only Izuna, and Hashirama.
(Maybe that woman Mito, but he wasn't sure if she considered him as a friend, considering that they didn't meet that long ago, and only saw each other a few times.)
Hashirama was always thoughtful, he was helpful, there were barely any flaws he could think of when it came to Hashirama, Madara thought. He was the type of person to hold an old lady's hand, helping her cross the road, to leave milk for cats in alleyways to drink, to help his professors bring their books infront of the class, to lend his classmates some money with a smile, and insisted that they didn't have to pay him back. Everyone liked Hashirama, and even Madara liked him as well.
Were he not so, so pathetically smitten with the other, he would be a little bit jealous.
Hashirama is everything that Madara is not.
Madara is not very good with haikus, metaphors, any sort of poetry, no matter how much he tried to study anything related to it. But in the solar system, Hashirama is probably at the center, he's the hot gigantic ball called sun, who dazzles everyone with his light, to make the day brighter for everyone around him. So, everyone orbits around him, the planets Mercury, Venus, Earth, so on and so forth. Madara thinks that he's the Pluto, the 9th planet that's not even really considered a planet anymore. Madara tries to orbit around Hashirama, but it takes long, he doesn't catch up as easily as the others, so he's usually alone, because everything is difficult to Madara, for Madara. Hashirama must think so too.
But even so, at some point, he is still given a chance to catch a glimpse of Hashirama, so Madara basks in the other's temporary light as much as he can. Because surely, Hashirama would get tired of him soon enough. Sometimes, Madara thinks that the only reason Hashirama is still bothering with him is because they're childhood friends, and maybe, somehow, Madara had been selfish and hogged all of Hashirama's attention from the other people Madara was certain the other would've possibly met in different circumstances.
Or, maybe it's just his self-deprecating nature talking. Hashirama always made sure to tell him not to be so hard on himself, like how he always does when left alone with his thoughts.
Yeah, maybe that was it. His friendship with Hashirama is still going strong, even now. Hashirama was the one who decided to go to the same high school together, and then college, so Madara tries to be is confident that the other still wants to be around him. And he considers Madara to be his best friend as well, just as much as Madara does with Hashirama, so that was a positive sign, right?
Being best friends with Hashirama is the best. Doesn't that mean that they're the closest, compared to most of Hashirama's peers? It fills Madara with a sense of satisfaction that he can't help but be smug about. Maybe he's not Pluto, maybe he's actually Mercury, because it's the closest to the sun.
Madara is fine with just being Hashirama's friend, really, if it meant that he gets to stay beside him for the rest of his life.
But sometimes, God, sometimes.
He wondered how Hashirama's brown hair, reaching past his shoulders by now (not that his is much better, it's a bit shorter than Hashirama's, but not that much), would feel like tangled around Madara's fingers. On some days, he wanted to caress that shiny hair, that is clearly well-taken care of by Hashirama, unlike Madara's unruly, pathetic excuse of a bird's nest, more or less resembling that of a sea urchin's. On others, he wanted to tug on it, dishevel it, just to see what kind of expression Hashirama would make.
Was that weird? Oh, who was he kidding.
Before he could endanger his image with an awkward boner, he looked around his tiny cell, trying to distract himself from his thoughts.
He glanced back at the guards, whom were wearing identical clothing. A white kimono, some grey hakama pants. They both wore different colours of haori, the one on the left wearing blue, and the other, green. Madara must've entered a historical universe, maybe, something like that.
He was extremely tired, it seemed, since he yawned for the umpteenth time. Looking back at at the arch top, it was still midnight, so he might as well take a rest. He doubted that Tobirama would come back to his cell so late, so he didn't have much to expect as of right now, and frankly, his body was really sore from too much activity. Madara thinks it's the most body movement he's ever done for the past few months.
Before he knew it, he was being overtaken by exhaustion.
Madara supposed that things could've been worse.
Madara woke up not even 5 hours later, or rather, he was woken up. With a grating sound of metal banging against metal.
He was not a morning person, not at all. He was also a light sleeper, so the moment he heard the second clang, his eyesight was immediately greeted by the sight of the stone walls. Where was he?
Suddenly, a kunai shot out from the cell, landing beside his face, barely scratching his nose. The shriek that came out of his mouth was not something he was proud of, but being on the verge of death should be counted as a justification for his actions just now, immediately sitting up, his head snapped to the sight of Tobirama's stony (and annoying) face staring back at him, arms crossed, unimpressed, and at that point, he remembered just exactly where he was.
Right.
"You could've killed me, asshole!" Madara shouted in anger, nevermind that his voice was a bit raspy from sleep.
"Must you look so unsightly first thing in the morning?" Madara's mood worsened quickly at Tobirama's insult, glaring at the younger man. At least the Tobirama in his world isn't as aggravating as this one. Madara looked up at the arch top window, and as shitty as his eyesight is (he really shouldn't have taken off his glasses if he knew he was going to be sent into this world), it was most definitely not morning. The sky was still dark, the tiny specks of stars still visible in the pitch black stratosphere, though they lessened in numbers compared to earlier. But it wasn't morning (it was dawn at best, and still midnight at worst) so he didn't know what Tobirama was on.
He was not in the mood to have a back and forth with the brat, so instead, he ignored Tobirama's remark.
"You're back already?" Madara asked, his body a bit sore from sleeping on the floor. "What time is it?"
He looked around the room, and noticed that the two guards weren't there anymore. It was just him and Tobirama, and his backpack lying on the table. His things weren't out anymore, so they were either back inside his bag, or they took it with him.
Madara hoped to the Gods that they didn't take it away.
Madara gestured to the lack of people behind Tobirama, "So, uh, where's your guards?" He asked curiously, just to start a small conversation, since he was feeling a bit awkward now, even if he tried not to show it.
The younger man was not interested in his attempts of small talk, it seemed. Madara refrained from rolling his eyes. Tough crowd.
Tobirama seemed to stare at him silently for a moment, as if assessing him properly. Judging him, examining him, whatever it is that he was trying to achieve from looking at him intensely. Tobirama did not speak at all, and silence engulfed them for a moment, before Madara broke it again, unwilling to let the younger man intimidate him.
Madara had a hunch that he probably won't be getting anything from Tobirama, so he just went straight to the point.
"So, have you thought about my words? Because I really want to be let out now." Madara tried again, because he really wanted to be let out now. He hoped that the few hours of cool down was enough to make Tobirama see reason.
He could see Tobirama's jaw clench, and Madara couldn't see it, but he knows that the other probably also had his fists clenched, even if it was hidden in his chest. Taking a good look of Tobirama's appearance, Madara realised that he did look older than the brat he knew, his face boring more wrinkles. This Tobirama's face wasn't even really wrinkly, and infact looked good for the age Madara assumed the other was, but compared to the Tobirama he knew, it was significantly different. He felt a bit stupid for mistaking this Tobirama for the one he knew, since this Tobirama seemed (or at least looked) even older than Madara himself.
"Look, okay. I am Madara Uchiha. Yes, that is my name," Madara sighed, "but I am not the Madara Uchiha you're probably thinking of."
Tobirama's eyebrow raised, though Madara could see that the other was slowly becoming less tense. Well, not much. As less tense as this man could look like, he supposed. But he was not fully relaxed just yet, as if the younger man was trying to find the right words to reply.
"If you would just give me—"
"—You still haven't let this ruse of yours go, it seems. Do you suppose that I will just accept the explanation that you, Madara Uchiha, just happened to have shared the same name as the current defector of Konoha, Madara Uchiha?" Tobirama's eyes narrowed in slits as he interrupted Madara, his red eyes sharp. "That even with your unruly, yet unmistakable hair that you are known for, and that pale complexion that is practically the mark of an Uchiha, a spitting image of the traitorous bastard, practically a clone jutsu, you still deny that you are Madara Uchiha?"
"I find it hard to believe that you, who is such an arrogant man, whose body is most consumed by pride, egotistical at it's very core, would stomach abandoning your identity. Yet, it is just so like you, to reject anything even remotely humane about you, yet keep your name, which you yourself know is power itself, which you know would leave even the most full-fledged shinobi trembling in his sandals by uttering the words alone." That was the nicest thing Tobirama's ever said to Madara all night.
Damn, whoever Madara's counterpart in this world is, he sure has quite the reputation. Madara resisted the low whistle that was threatening to get past his lips.
Tobirama sneered at him, continuing with his words. "What's next? You deny my words? That you are not Madara Uchiha, after all? That you are rejecting your very being? Your power? Do go on, then, if you can even find the confidence to insult yourself like that, if you can take damaging your pride like that."
With a mocking smirk, the younger (or older?) man practically preened at Madara's silence, "That's what I thought."
"Now, cease this pathetic display already, and confess your reasons for lingering around the village gates, lest you want me to force the words right out of your mouth myself." Tobirama really wasn't letting this go. Madara wished it was a different person he was talking to instead.
Truth to be told, Madara really didn't know what to say. Tobirama looked and sounded like he had a personal grudge with the Madara Uchiha in this world, but Madara was really at loss for words since he didn't know what the other's issue was with him, or with this world's version of him. The younger (older) man wasn't listening to his words at all, so it was frustrating. He didn't want to waste his breath and effort explaining to a guy who wasn't even willing to hear him out in the first place.
Seeing Madara just staring back at Tobirama must've set the younger (he was going to refer to him as younger out of spite) man off, and Madara felt immense gratification for getting on the man's nerves without even doing or saying anything, and removing that temporary satisfaction from the man's face.
"Answer me, Uchiha!" Tobirama spat his surname as if it were the deadliest curse in the world, and Madara half expected to die on the spot after being yelled at like that.
Well, Madara didn't want to engage into a conversation with a guy who doesn't listen to his side. Tobirama might as well go talk to a brick wall for all he cares, since he liked to run his mouth off without expecting his opponent's opinion. This world, his world, Tobirama was a know-it-all, though Madara silently appreciated his best friend's brother a little more. At least, his world's Tobirama wasn't this hard to reason with.
Taking Madara's silence as a form of rebellion, Tobirama stepped away from the cell, unsatisfied with the answers, or lack thereof, he got.
"Hmph. How my brother even managed to utter even a single word to such a person as you without going mad, Madara Uchiha, I will never know." The younger man remarked, chin up. Turning his back on Madara, Tobirama added;
"Resistance is futile, Madara, and I will get my answer from you one way or another. Though, if you even have a grain of compassion in that heart of yours, you will not act in such a manner infront of elder brother later." Madara slightly perked up at the other's words, hope surging in his chest. If Hashirama were anything like the Hashirama in his world, he would surely listen to Madara.
"So Hashirama really will come by later?" Madara spoke for the first time since their silent animosity, and Tobirama's teeth gritted as he looked livid, his gaze immediately snapping back to him, his whole body rigid with barely-restrained anger.
"So you ignore everything I have thrown at you for the past hour, yet a single mention of my brother's name makes you talk? Just how much do you look down on me?" Tobirama really was pissed, but Madara could not find it in his whole being to care.
"You think you are above others, that you are some untouchable God that can pick and choose his entertainment, his battles. What insolence you manage to still harbour, when you are the one who is imprisoned, when your life is in my very hands!" He was ranting, but all Madara could think about is the fact that he finally has a chance of getting out on his prison. Madara could almost envision him as a lead actor in a Shakespearean high school play.
Tobirama growled, "I have the power to kill you before you can even blink, now that you've been captured, and the only reason I haven't slit your throat yet is because you are still useful to Konoha, no matter your state is at the moment. You are still useful to Hashirama, so you are still living, breathing, though you do not deserve to do so."
Madara's eyebrows furrowed in irritation, was Tobirama threatening to kill him?
"Excuse me?" Madara spat. He was usually apathetic when it came to things like this, but Tobirama really has a way with words.
And just as Tobirama turned away, he immediately grabbed the kunai from beside him, the sharp object Tobirama had thrown on him just earlier. He didn't know how to throw it properly at all, but the reaction was immediate. The younger man dodged it, both angry at Madara's lack of fear right now, and at himself, for being so careless as to throw that weapon inside Madara's cell in the first place.
Madara wasn't sure, but he could've sworn he saw a bit of caution in Tobirama's posture just now, as if he was something so dangerous. Jesus, was the Madara Uchiha in this world really that much of a big shot?
Though, that almost-intimidated look from Tobirama disappeared almost instantly, opting for a more bitter expression, and a bit of a smug satisfaction, which Madara found irritating. He could just see it now, the kind of thoughts Tobirama's head was creating.
"Like I said, I hold your life, as well as your mobility." Tobirama practically preened, and Madara scowled, "So do not even dare attempt to try anything while you're here."
With that, Tobirama finally left the room, the two guards emerging from the door to guard him once more. Madara seethed, extremely annoyed at that brat's presence just now.
Well, on the bright side, he will see Hashirama— the Hashirama in this world— so that was something. It was almost enough to soothe his irritation.
Sitting back down on the floor, he didn't have anything else to do, but look at the guards silently, his cheek resting in his knuckles. He was not sulking, for he was a patient man. Turning to one of the guards, he asked again.
"Could you give me at least one of my snacks? It's in my bag, and I'm hungry." Low and behold, he received the delicious taste of silence.
He really hoped he could get out of this fucking prison soon.