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Chapter Text

What an incident it had been. A mistake, yet it had triggered such a spark, and while I cannot know exactly what the other felt at the time. It felt as if I had clover wrapped around my heart. He smiled and the spell had been cast. It had truly been such a slow progression there had been times he had thought it to be merely a play of his imaginings. Such thought never prolonged for he always saw when there was a dip to my energy, and answered in turn by becoming more affectionate.

Cautious, he was always stepping around the water instead of walking through, and I know he can't have always been this way which is why it was so difficult to witness. Nevertheless how could I argue with him when he had such a fractured expression. So when he hesitated in touching me, whether it be my shoulder or a slight peck upon my cheek I never complained, how could I? He wasn't a fragile man so much as one who had experienced to much, and for the most part I knew that he was wary that I would leave him because of his age and appearance, regardless of how painful that is to can recognize. I see nothing wrong with our relationship.

He would sit at the small table of the inn, and I would stand at the counter attempting a new and inventive recipe I had found. Breakfast had been such a silent affair, he would be in closed within his thoughts, and I would think upon a list of things that needed to be done, chores around the house or a date I had thought of while in the market it mattered not what, he followed along regardless.

Due to is advanced age I did everything around the house, it never bugged me, I was rather used to it after all -though I had never been so scrupulous with cleaning as I began to be whence I started living with him- he always seemed on edge whenever I was cleaning or cooking, weeding the garden and taking odd jobs from the small shipping village. No, I know for a fact he hated it, he had been such an active man in his youth that such inactivity and inability irritated him. His hands would twitch and his eyes would harden into sharp points upon my hands, at which point I would stop what I was doing, and drag him outside for the date I had planned.

He always has his scythe with him, a deadly weapon though it is, he uses it as a cane of sorts and I'll admit it did attract me to him originally. It had been such a symbolic thing at that point at time to me, even in my nativity I had known that it had been something very representative of the man holding it, because that was it, he had been merely holding it as one would a cane, and not welding it was the weapon it was.

Of course now I am aware of the fact that he was far to paranoid to part with it, always shifting and monitoring his surroundings in preparation for an oncoming threat. At first I hadn't understood, so I had regarded our surroundings as he did, when I did however, his eyes would cast down and he would relent in his search. Once it occurred to me that he once more felt useless in comparison to my youth I myself stopped, and allowed him to do as he bid without preamble trusting his judgement, and understanding that although he was older and his chakra was weak, he could probably still kick some ass with Taijutsu alone.

As I mentioned, we had met entirely by accident, I had been wondering around a small village near the border of the fire country I had been seeking ero-sannin actually with no luck to speak of, the man was hard to find without a crisis on ones shoulder. It had been when I had been eyeing the onsen the village had become rather known for did he meet Madara. Of course at this point it had been under the pretext of another name all together.

I had breaked just across from the hot-waters at a small sweat shop for some sweat tea and a some dango to calm my nerves from their frayed and slightly angered state. However, the poor serving woman had been having issues with my and some others orders, so I did my best to assist her, she was close to falling over with the tray and her pregnant belly. However, once I turned to sit down at my table once more there was a rowdy gang of men sitting there. Not in the mood for such disruptions, I admit, I might have been a bit brash in my confrontation as I would have been were I still a small runt with a lot of energy and extensive anger at the world.

Naturally, I had told them that I had been at the table first, when they had asked why that mattered, I did get a little angry, and began yelling, childish as it had been. Which is where they then began sneering at me and not in a disgusted manner as one would expect. Instead they looked at me like something to be lowered down and eaten.

This is where an old man had stepped in, having seen their gazes become preyful he came to my rescue -though he was probably aware of the fact that as a shinobi I didn't really need it, I suspect it was out of some sense of morale or chivalry- He hadn't done much, simple actions ya' know? But he had stood beside me and spoken in this deep but harsh -from age- baritone in a calm manner his eyes however stared the all the man down with one clean swoop.

Even now, I know not what he said, I had been paying attention only to his eyes, black like coal with a thin red outline around the pupil. -I would later find out it had been due to his enteral mankoyo sharingan- but his eyes had allured me, they looked familiar. Regardless of their colour, not of Sasuke or even Sai, of no one actually. They only looked so familiar because of the lost gleam that they held. The eyes of a man who had lost everything but who was still trudging along because he had to.

The man who had little good thought, had scurried away in fearful state, and in thanks I offered to pay for the mans food and drink. He had accepted with a 'hn' which I had laughed at.

There marked the beginning of our budding relationship -now commitment- in a small sweet tea shop. I began going there regularly, intrigued by the scythe and red-rimmed eyes of the man who had aided me.

I would pay for his sweets, and in turn he would sit in silence glaring at me as I ate my fill. When he finally did speak it was out of irritation, which I had honestly expected. He asked why I was being so kind to him, when he had done little to nothing. Of course to me, someone simply helping me was a large gesture, being that no one had really done it before. That was not how I responded of course, for many didn't understand such reasoning.

Instead I had answered that I had been hoping he would impart upon me a story, why he carried a scythe by his side, or what he had done in his youth. He had grouchily replayed that his weapon had been hand crafted just for him by his father for long battles when he had been just a young boy. I hadn't asked anymore that day.

Over the course of around a month I had asked for more and more stories, and eventually the stubborn man had relented, telling tales of long waged wars, even some of what it had been like living in Konoha during the era of the First Hokage with a face of melancholy. I found all of his tales enrapturing, paying more attention to the stories an old man had to tell then I ever had in the academy.

Eventually we began meeting in venues other then our little shop, my interest turned into infatuation before I could even turn a dime. Although I had known it would be difficult for any sort of relationship to progress, and for a few days I had toiled over the whole thing, I had never been one to skimp out on something that I knew could make me happy. If he declined, then that was that.

It had taken my longer then I had originally desired to, my nerves jittered and shaking whenever I came close to speaking. So instead I had ended up asking about his personal life more then I meant to. At least I learned that he wasn't married, hadn't ever been on fact. I learned also that he was in fact in his 140, but at this point I was resigned, and age wasn't something that would stop me. So, I asked if he would be willing to turn one of our outings into a date.

I had gotten a very confused, and very stricken face that day.

Still, I don't think he regrets saying a cautious yes now

Chapter Text

He wasn't a difficult man to please, not entirely, of course from what I gather from his tales it hadn't always been that way, and that is not much of a shock to me, the dip in the wrinkles around his mouth say he didn't smile much, but there are these faint lines around his eyes at the corners and just enough of a line at the edge of his mouth to say that he had been content at the very least.

I do my best to ease his mind, to comfort him, however, there are days when he goes out into the garden, lays within the sunlight sythe by his side and drifts. His mood volatile, and in this state I can only imagine he is thinking of days past, I long to know just what it is he misses so dearly. But that curiosity is a lie onto myself, for I know that he is welling with guilt and a desire to see the first Hokage, Hashirama. They had been best friends as me and Sasuke were, are, it is proof enough of my compassion for Sasuke that were he seen within our area I would attempt to find him, if only to speak to him. And in a way, I believe Madara's feelings for the Shodai ran even further, basking comfortably in the border between eternal devotion and compassion for what had been.

Although these days of whimsy, I have noticed have become far in between, so it is possible the past is becoming more of a treasure to him then something to regret, and I may be perceived as his future, which the simple thought makes my heart leap.

"Mada, did you manage to get ahold of the wedding planner?" This morning, we sat on the outdoor walkway, a tray of leaf tea on my right side, for once in a week we were in a half embrace, I had slumped into my fiancé's body curled onto his right side my head on his shoulder, we each were grasping onto a warm cup of tea, a thin blanket draped over both our shoulders.

"I did, that woman has a way of weakening the most resolved man." He grunted, I could not help but agree, she was near always angry at something or someone.

"Oh, was she raving mad at our lack of florist?" Too say I wasn't worried about the woman's anger is an understatement, her iron grasp upon our wedding was finally waning at least, it was of no aid to me that Madara seemed content to simply let her have control, baring no interest in the planning of our ceremony, which is not something I am entirely shocked by. Although when he had noted my interest in actually preparing the ceremony he had taken measures to diminish the planners power, which had fueled her anger it seemed. It is still unknown to me just what he said.

"I already know who I want as a florist, she's a kinochi in Konoha. She's of the Yamanaka clan, and a good friend of mine. Besides its more practical, as the wedding is to be held close to Konoha." When I had proposed that concept -of marrying near our origin- I had expected some sort of disagreement, however, Madara had gazed at me for a moment with thin lips and glazed eyes, before he had simply embraced me, I took it in stride of course, it was a rare occurrence why would I reject it? He even kissed my lips! Chastely, yet it still brings a tingle into my muscles every time I remember the experience.

"Yes, about that, there is this place, not far from the Final Valley, which I would like to hold the ceremony." I could only gaze at that, with someone as aged as he it was expected that he held a place of interest. Still for some reason I find myself confused that he had nye mentioned it before. So I held my head perhaps to much an picturesque image of curiosity. He gazed back at me with a nervous tinge colouring his eye. "Its a special place. A riverside. I have no doubt it will be appropriate."

"Mm, what is it that makes it special?" I can only hope I'm not pushing. There are moments where do worry that I will say something that crossed that invisible line. I love the man dearly, but he has many sensibility's due to his chaotic past.

"I hold no doubt that its changed, but, when I was a child, I met a boy there while tossing stones. He was my first friend outside of the clan. My first enemy, and the first person I loved. If our wedding was there, I suppose, it would be a form of closure to that past. Perhaps, I can resolve within myself to say goodbye." Perhaps it said something of my character that I had expected something of that likeness, although the heaviness under his eyes and the set of his jaw held me in a moment of hesitation to agreeing. It wasn't that his request was ludicrous, in fact I can understand it all to well, simply, I did not know if it would be best for him.

Madara was a warrior with a heart of fire, and a will of stone. As long as I have known him I know this truth, even as I seek many more. Yet, his will, almost unmoving as it may appear cracks easily with his older age. This sort of sentimentality was unusual, and worrying, I wish not for him to suffer even if it is by his own hand. For I know he will, marriage by that riverside will mark and ending and a beginning, but it will also be frosted by regret and longing. The past ensnaring the present.

In many ways I find myself at illease with the thought of the first Hokage. Look what his image and thought does to my man! Though, I cannot fathom to hate him, not from the stories told, not by the admiration in black eyes scorned with haunted purpose. I cannot hate whom my beloved loves. A weakness though it may seem, I dare to think of it as nothing more then an asset.

"It is important to you." I don't question that, I say it, just to make him clear of the gravity of which he asks, how he could hurt only himself with this. "Then-" I look at him for a moment, calm and patient in his body, he either knows I am incapable of refusing him, or is simply holding himself steady. "Alright."

I feel him press me closer into his side. Gratitude that isn't needed.

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We had been planning this for so long, no matter how often our minds drifted, we knew what we were doing for the most part. But in the simplicity and repetition of the weeks I had all but forgotten that we were moving back to Konoha. I am at a loss as to how, every afternoon I gaze at a list of potential homes within the family area of my village a steaming cup of warm leaf tea abandoned at the corner of the table. Every week Madara slips into conversation mentions of how the Nidame must have been a horrid Hokage, usually between bites of rice or a drink of water.

But somehow, it rather slipped by my mind somehow, and it was only today while aiding a woman from the sweet shop that it even occurred to me at all. We were moving back to Konoha and everything would be different. So much was simple here, the people leading comfortable lives, little homes, and sweet smiles, a nice bite to eat with friends and a smudge of town gossip thrown in for scandal. Peaceful. Shinobi barely ever pasted through, and rouges avoided it because of little resources.

This is what I wanted home to feel like. To be honest, I would stay here for good, if it wasn't for a sense of duty crawling up my spine every time I think of it. I have as much of an obligation to Konoha as to my Fiancé, so I cannot just repress it. That would be cowardly.

Our wedding wasn't to far down the line, the planner still had to sort out the venue, I still had to organize the florist and caterer (which, Choji's mom obviously.) Of course guests still needed to be invited. So we have a little more then four weeks to move, and we hadn't even begun to pack boxes. That being considered, I do know a few people who owe me a couple favours within the area perhaps, if nothing else they could help us load some boxes. Of course in Konoha one would simply hire a low level group of kids to help move, it was simpler that way. The kids did most of the packing, and the jouin leader would seal everything away into scrolls for easy transport. I've never gotten the chance to do things that way, not that I'd moved much, but as an orphan money hadn't exactly come easily and occasionally rent couldn't be paid on time. It was a good an excuse as any for the landlord to kick me out, within lawful reasons anyway.

To be truthful to myself, most of the houses, even the apartments I had seen for sale or rent were not within my given price range. That is not something I look forward to discussing with Madara. The current neighborhood I live in, in Konoha, is bad, the worst by all standards, and I don't think its the right place for Madara to be. It wasn't that he was in danger there, more of, I worry for his temper, he wouldn't tolerate the kind of rowdy people, and coloured insults that came from there. Likely he would cause some form of destruction, that is with his own ideals.

I had found out of his disposition he held in anger the hard way. My fiancé being a man with an extraordinarily unpleasant mindset when irked. He had yelled for ten minutes straight, and it had been revealing, yet the man had known his mistake (far to prideful to apologize) but he had reconciled in his own way.

In passing by the tiny flower shop closest to our house, i could not help but smile at the memory of that reconciliation. A sunflower in a recently bought cup, and the expensive packaged ramen steaming on the table. It had been so sweet, I had been hard pressed not to kiss the man senseless. It was a rarity that he was so considerate after all.

"I'm home..." There was a quiet 'welcome home.' From the back. "Hey honey?"

"Yes?"

"We need to start packing, I asked Ami, Tiko, and Ika to help out. But we need to get packed really quick here." I told of my thoughts earlier, hoping he understood my reasoning without my needing to state it. He knew my ways well enough by now, it should not be a task for someone of such renown.

I walked to where he could be found commonly, true to habit, he sat at the back admiring the warmth on his skin, sipping a vile concoction that was said to be strengthening tea. He drank it only on my insistence. I open my mouth to discuss our impending move. However, he quiets me with merely a look, I pause, and question without words.

"Sit." He says. I comply. Note, I do so based only on my curiosity, it is a rarity for I to do as bid. Though he sparcly challenges me.

"I never had the opportunity to sit in the sun as this as a boy." He admits, and I am unsure as I find myself nodding. "We were, my clan, were met with the constant need to prepare. Rations, weapons, tend our wounded, always rushing so that we may battle freely once more. I started aiding at merely five cycles. Alas, we were granted little option, at six, I was expected to flight with our warriors. Yet, to be considered a true warrior one had to have survived at least sixteen cycles, and more battles. That is unless you died a child. At which point it was divvied as an honorary title." Brutality, ruled in Madara's age, I knew that well enough, for children to hold an adults place and fight for something as simple minded as crossing the wrong path was barbaric. True, shinobi held little regard for each other now, though I suppose that is what our individualized nations now stand for.

"Konoha was built on the foundation and the intention of unity and protection. So the many generations of the future would not be strung into their elders undecided war. It was all I desired, even if I never sired an heir. Even if, in my haste, I drew to far, and elected a legacy of hatred onto my own name... Onto my clan name." His words were that of refinement, of such sordid assurity that in my mind such a statement could not have been spoken without vast mental alliteration.

It is destabilizing to realize the man you yourself draw strength from, base your own moral and way of life held themself in such dwindled regard. I only wish to reassure him, teach him to truth of my beliefs the depth and profound affection for his character, and my unwavering love for whom and how he was. But I doubt he would take that for what I do.

"When we wed. I don't believe it would be wise to be candid of my identity." I suppose given his self disposition something like this was not entirely unexpected. Still, it was not met without my ire. My soon to be should not be held within the shadows for a mistake he made as a young man, for he had only acted in the best wishes of the village we both so cherished.

Such secrecy, and implication made me think only of my own upbringing, the scorn associated with it. The thought of someone I consider to be the love of my life having to experience that, it freezes my origins with a bitter hatred for those most prejudice. Still to voice it... Best be indirect.

"But Madara! I am taking your name am I not?" I saw his lip twitch and knew I had broken through a defence.

"I hold no issue with you taking the Uchiha name, I am simply advising that we keep my identity between us. I still harbor the the sharingan it would not be a task to prove my heritage." Reasoning, I could see clear, was one of my man's strongest assets. That did not mean I was happy with his own logistics still, I could understand (regrettably) so I say no more.

"Are you quite sure you do not wish to keep the Uzumaki name? It holds much honour in Konohagakure." Quite sure, but that is not something to be said in front of Madara he would think me to be dishonouring my birth clan, despite my repute otherwise.

"Yes, I want to bring honour back to the Uchiha. They were killed and forgotten by the village. No memorial or recognition to their contribution as the police force, or indeed, as a founding clan." The lack of respect shown for nearly fifty or more people massacred was astounding, of course at the time I could not see the ignorance or intolerance, I had been blissfully young and inexperienced.

Madara I noted, was smiling if ever slight, as if I had pleased him.

"If that is what you wish." A smile indeed. "So." He regained himself, a resigned expression settling in once more. "You were telling me of our moving arrangements?"

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Our departure from the impact marketing town was met with a great sadness from many of the locals. The kind old woman who owned the sweet shop they so often frequented had bid them goodbye with a basket of packaged goods, her daughter had presented me with a kiss on the cheek, and blown one at Madara.

The young teen who owned the flower shop down from them had given me two freshly picked lavender stocks, saying that purple was most assuredly my designed colour. He had given to Madara a judgemental look and said 'crimson' while proudly tilting his head away. They had never gotten along.

Ami, Tiko, and Ika were gathered all together as they could always be found, (Naruto suspected they were in a form of polyamorous relationship, but he never said anything, and he had little evidence.) They had helped compact what little belongings they had gathered into an amass of colour coordinated scrolls.

Many merry wishers were there, the smaller children of the small town had hugged at my legs before backing away from Madara with suspicious looks.

Then we were leaving.

Even walking down such a memorized path is strange now, it had been a long time standing since I had returned to Konoha, and my thoughts were both of welcoming and trepidation. I cannot dispel the urge to move away from our destination.

I hope for peace, as much as we can grasp.

I hold onto Madara's arm a little firmer, I notice my hands shake with pressured nerves, indecisive on how my friends will take my marriage, how we will live, and the string of weight being pressed onto my shoulders with these thoughts.

I had a reason for the strain, yet, it was worth it to have him with me. I only grew concerned over my friendships I held. How they would be affected by my engagement and subsequent marriage to a man so much older then myself. It brokered many questions of my morale, and his. Would they think he had taken opportunity in my vulnerability? In most certainty, though to be just, that was something I had done to him.

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When at last we did arrive at the gates of Konoha I had settled my nerves, and the warm lunch we had eaten not half an hour before settled warm in my stomach.

"Tajima." I startled at the sound of Madara's voice just above mine -how does he stand so tall when traveling yet slouch so much when sitting?-

"What do you mean?" I ask, I had yet to hear that name before.

"It will be my name within the village. As I said, I do not wish for you to be attached to my misdeeds. Our marriage will cause stir enough as it is." I couldn't glare at him, but I did do so towards the gates of Konoha. I hate his point.

"Yo Naruto, back into the fray huh?" I look up at the voice.

"Hey Gemna!" Despite my worries its nice to see a familiar face.

"You know the drill, sign the book, then you can go in." he turned to Madara with a sharpened expression, assessing, though I doubt he found much threat in an old man, so he stood down quickly. "You have to sign your name, and reason for your visit or stay, you also must state your rank... or former rank if you are retired." I looked to my fiancé, they didn't really have rank back in his time, there was the Hokage, then the clan leaders, the clans themselves and the children. No shinobi ranking system. Still, Madara seemed steady as he wrote in the book, finishing with a quick downward flick of his hand. I looked to the book.

Naruto Uzumaki , Returning Geunin .

Tajima Uchiha, Moving for sake of Marriage, former rank: Jounin.

The first thing I noted was that his penmanship was far better then my scratchy scrawl. The second was the fact that he had boldly put down his clan name. Well it did have to be done eventually, I suppose sooner is better then later.

Gemna flinched, very visibly. Well, I can't exactly blame him. He gazed at Madara as if he was were some sort of exotic animal instead of an actual man for a moment.

"Your an Uchiha? Can you prove that?" Bad wording, I turn to Madara, about to ask him not to. But I'm already to late as he's activated his sharingan already and was giving the poor man a powerful glare. Which of course had Gemna turning to me with the visage of a man both confused and frightened, perhaps also irritation.

"Uh-hm, well, we better go see Tsunade, right? Bye!" I wanted to get out of there, preferably straight into our new house and never come out.

Madara's hand slipped into my own. I traced the lines there, they weren't soft hands, but I didn't need them to be.

The main street of Konoha was bursting with people going about their daily business, a few Jounin passing by here and there. Some I remember holding bad tidings with were pointing at me with coloured eyes. I try not to see them, but they gaze at Madara as well, pityingly and it is horrible.

Madara's hand leaves mine, I panic, he isn't leaving or nervous is he. But no, instead I feel his arm pull me closer as we walk so that as my feet move, my torso remains steady against his side, my head resting on his chest. And its warm.

"Ignore such people. You can't be a leader if you fret about how everyone feels. You quell them if you can, but if you fail you focus on other things. I ran the Uchiha clan for nearly twenty years, I always considered their qualms but sometimes the people are wrong." He spoke in my ear only, a grumble from his chest. "If they irritate you so much, then allow me to deal with it, please think only of smiling and your dream. You have no time for such things." I smile.

"No murdering."

"Of course not. Murder has no honour." I laugh and move way, holding his hand instead. My proud sweet man.

I expected the Hokage building the hold some sort of ominous air, but it just didn't. I actually was sure of this, of our marriage, and our love, I'm not wavering on this.

It was kind of gratifying.

"I has been a long time... Hello again old friend." His face was crooked with a downturned smile of age, his experience and sadness plain as he gazed in conflict up to the Hokage monument. I expected him to speak further, perhaps apologize, but I know him well, and if he were to continue he would only be bringing shame onto himself.

I held fast onto his arm, I knew a rock bore no grudge against me, neverminding the fact that a rock cannot spite me for holding a candle for its image's flame. Still, I held him now, I would not have a memory steal him from me.

He seemed to know what I was thinking as he grasped my hand and brought it to his lips. I smiled as he kissed it, I looked up at him as my head felt light, he caught my gaze his eyes being an encompassing black. He pulled me towards himself suddenly. And I was held tightly in an embrace.

"Mada?" I whispered because I didn't want anyone to hear. He didn't respond, but he did capture my lips with his own. So soft, he kissed me sweetly, not in a rough domineering way, as he usually does. Oh, he's comforting me is he not? Hehe, he's so sweet isn't he?

"Naruto?" I drew away from my fiancé our lips slightly smacking as I did so. And turned to see Tsunade behind Madara, she gazed at me happily, and we met in a hug.

"Hey Tsunade! Good to see you! Sorry I was gone for so long." I doubt she had been happy I had been gone for nearly a year. I felt her arms tightened around him for a fraction of a moment, then she let go but unfortunately facing me with a dower expression.

"You'd better be brat. The council have been at my head for months because of your absence. The Akatsuki this, Kyuubi that." I had expected as much, the council got more paranoid each year, usually I feel with their paranoia comes with a raining storm dirctly on his head. That of course was not always the case, occasionally Tsunade bore the brunt.

Tsunade have me a concerned look. Hazel flicking over to the elderly man behind the both of us. I smile as brightly as I can in the face of her gaze. It is obvious to me and my future husband that this would not be easy for others to accept. I had messaged Tsuande telling her that I had fallen in love while in a mall marketing village and that we would be getting married in Konoha. Now I could see the slight distain in her eyes as she figured it out.

I am aware of the challenges facing us, but I had planned on having Tsunade's help with this. Legally she couldn't decline our right to marry unless he was from an enemy nation or a missing-nin. So the fact that our marriage was still viable relaxed me. Still...

"Tsunade, this is my fiance Tajima! Love, this is Tsunade the Hokage!" I spoke rapidly, all too knowing of the fact that she disapproved and it was best to not draw upon the introduction. I had hoped my understanding of her persona was wrong. That being said, the momentary lapse in her calm fasde ended and a deploymentic expression carved into her visage.

I felt Madara's silent snicker.

"Nice to finally meet you." Her eyes crinkled mightily at the corners. False cheer, and all who were to glance at her would be aware of this.

"Pleasure." Madara reluctantly replied with a full tone but eyes were blank as could be as if there was nothing behind him, simply a shell in man form. I couldn't stop my grin. He looked toward me knowing. "Well, love, shall we get going? We don't want to dely the Hokage. I'm sure she's quite busy." I saw her flinch back, the obvious rather political fight was adding new strands of tensions at each second, Madara only gleefully smiling along while Tsunade sat powerless at his mockery.

"I have to show you Icharaku dattebayo! Have I told you about them? THEIR RAMEN IS AMAZING." I wanted to get out of there either way, as grandma was giving me signals she wanted to speak to me. That and I really want him to try Icharaku. I grasp his arm, warm in my hand.

Chapter Text

He was not an impressed man. That, I could see without even looking to his visage, without listening to a grumble. He was not angry, but nor was he happy, a more intense version of aggravated. I knew that he was glaring at my door, it's a piece of shit, and we both know it. But as of yet we cannot get a new house or condo. And the worst part is that I have to do it under my name as Madara isn't a Konoha resident. In order to get a new place I have to get a referral from Tsunade. Of course that isn't a technical legal requirement, but the village was not the most receptive to my moving into a more impressive part of town -due to Madara's foresight and impressive saving of coins no longer in circulation.- was possible.

But even elder Madara was an intemadating man if he wanted to be, as such I had seen fit to remove him from any confrontations he may or may not have with the residents. The last thing we needed was the village charging me with an 'undue boaut of violence.' especially as we tried for a new place. There would be so many legalities and of course there would be an undue surcharge for me to challenge it. Obviously this was to be avoided; as such I had seen to insuring the man I love is held by plenty distraction within the limited space.

Strangely he took a particular interest in Gama-chan.

"A reptile?" He asked me, and well, no I can't abide that Gama-chan is one of my most treasured possessions one of the few things no one had seen fit to steal. Not to mention a cute frog with large eyes and an open smile.

"Thats Gama-chan cute eh?" I got an eyebrow raised in response. As Madara looked past me at my -ill functioning- kitchen and scoffed. Traditionalist by nature -and upbringing he dislikes most modern commodities. Fortunately for him he can avoid cooking by the simple fact he had never made meal in his life. Not counting hunted food. A man cooking in Madara's time was a laughable concept due for mockery and pride dismantlement.

A rare man my Uchiha: one of the few believers of his time that counted women as capable warriors suited for battle not just baring and raring the young. Maybe some cause for why he was so severely hated by other clans, of course I like to imagine most of that was because of his killing of their families not his liberal values.

Occasionally I will consider the idea that he sees me as a feminine figure, at least more so then himself. Were I any other man I would find insult. But what insult is there in being feminine? Forward thinking or not society holds genders to a type of derogative that fits for either sex. I have never belonged in either, not simply because of my reputation throughout the village but because I have always thought myself to be somewhat both. That's... Wrong? I think. I haven't ever found a reason why, besides the "pride" so many of my male friends talk about.

I am Naruto yes. I know this for certain I like fighting and enjoy training, I love ramen and Madara. All my friends are equal in their importance.

But, I also know that I am Naruko. Who likes fighting enjoys training, who loves ramen and Madara, and has no friends conscious of her existence.

Madara does not know of this. It's a side I do not want to bare to anyone, so sensitive in nature. I know he loves me, I am devoted to him in turn but to address such a strange concept to him -a traditionally minded warrior- is terrifying. No one but myself -and Kyūbi: who doesn't give a shit either way as they are a multisexed demon- is aware of my own inner argument.

The night is filled with the sound of crickets. And my eyes are drawn to the moonlight peaking through the curtains, the balcony offers a chance to be in the outdoors. Though Madara's warmth beside me is a comfort in its solidity sometimes being amongst nature soothes me in a way I have yet to accurately depict.

So I stand barefoot overlooking the twinkle of the village, the cleft of the mighty stone-faced stands above it all a warning in the darkness. The stars a little dull in the glare of the few lights still on peak at me in their glimmered fashion as the moon stands as their leader.

I hear the door behind me, and see Madara appear, regal in the moonshine almost young in appearance. His scythe -now only posed as a walking stick- does little to take away from his image of near youth. His head tilts and I wonder why. But I don't get the opportunity to ask for he walks before me in quick stride and I have to assume hes come to beckon me back to bed.

He doesn't though, he rests his hand on my cheek and I feel a wetness there I hadn't before. Crying without realizing it.

"Something has been bothering you." I sigh, I feel the heave of my chest having hoped he would not notice. That was futile he takes note of nearly everything. I could have given away my mind place with merely a twitch of my thumb for all I know. "What is it?" I want to tell him. I do. But my mouth gets clogged everytime and a terrible choking sensation permeates my esophagus.

I hold his hand to my face because I relish in all the touches he gives me and release the tension in my muscles.

There has been so much mental toil over the past few days that I just need a moment alone with the man I love without burden of myself. So risky as it is. I bring his hand around my waist and lean into him, resting my head against his chest. In spite of his age his breathing is not broken and his heart is strong, I could stay here for a very long time.

Still, I don't wish to. I peak up at him, he has never been a physical creature, but as far as I can tell he is not disturbed. He looks back at me with a warm gaze and I feel my heart skip for a moment.

"Kiss me." He does. Long and sweet, and I indulge myself by slipping my hands under his shirt just slightly. His chest vibrates a little at the action. As I press into the kiss further.

He breaks off, at this point, I don't want to let him, I kiss at the corners of his mouth, I want him to join me again.

"Naruto stop-"

"No, please just let me-"

"Naruto!" He pushes me back hold me still with his arms and keeps my eyes with his own. I feel bitter embarrassment flow out as tears, and anger manifest as fists. A moment of reprieve ruined. He looses his holdings and sighs deeply rubbing at his forehead, I recognize the frustrated stance and I suddenly long for the rest a bed offers. But I am angry for no reason, and I want to be rid of my irritation by yelling. He speaks before I can.

"You are more emotional then normal. Whatever it is that is on your mind is causing you to act on stress and tension only. Please, Naruto tell me what is wrong... You are worrying me with your behaviour." My fists uncurl. It is rare that he admits to concern, let alone says the word please. Have I been acting that strange? Scaring him?

I should tell him, but only with a clear head and it is obvious to both of us that is something I do not possess at the time of night.

"I'll tell you in the morning. Right now can't you just... Hold me in bed?" I don't usually act so bold as to ask for his comfort. But he only nods at me as we slip inside. Maybe I have been acting more erratic then I first thought because he doesn't mention things commonly.

We slip into the covers and I feel an arm drape around me, less muscled then I imagine it used to be but still well toned thanks to his own insistence of working out regularly.

I drift to sleep with the lingerence of anxiety and the comfort of security.

We sit at the table in the morning, a silence in accompaniment as I try not to fidget under his insistent stare. The topic at hand was obvious and I was wishing he hadn't woken up last night,- though he is a light sleeper.- He has finished his tea, and I fight the urge to go and put it to be cleaned, I doubt he would stand for me leaving the table right now.

He sighs, beginning to feel impatient, even though I know well enough that he can sit still for hours until those he interrogates wither. He used to be the same with me, but in drawing closer his ease grew thin more quickly and he could respond by sulking to the extent a child would find extreme.

I take a breath, another, and another, until finally I find myself looking at the table just before him and letting my mouth run its course.

"Women." Is the first thing I say, and it is not very coherent. I want to draw back already because now an eyebrow has raised. "I mean- you know how women are more likely to get something from a man?" My start us pitiful, even still he nods.

"Well, when I was younger, as I said people didn't like me very much..." A shortness comes to my inhale and I can't breath out for a moment. It is the understanding that even nowadays who I am -believe I am?- is not really accepted that causes such painful delivery. "I had to convince them. It didn't work all the time but..."

Admitting it is different. There's a simplistic nature to action, while words are just difficult to say sometimes. At least thats how I feel.

"I." I don't know how to confess to someone. I suppose I never really had to before now. So maybe that's it, the fear is harder when it involves something precious but unexplained by even yourself. I don't fully understand, but I sometimes you don't need to I guess. I just know, on a deeper more interconnected level that I am not fully a man, not fully a woman, occasionally not anything. It took a long time to even get this far. But I worry, what he will think of me. Its not like I can't live as I am and let him live in ignorance. "I don't want you to hate me..." If word got out, the village would be-

"Hate you." The plainness in his tone tricks me into looking up, almost instantly I feel ashamed. "I couldn't." Its a statement. But I wonder if it is true, he's a traditionalist.

"You might?" My voice breaks. "I-" I breath in. "I don't know how to say this to you. Its not-" breath. "normal." I clench my hands together tightly under the wood.

"When I was with Jiraiya. I came to a realization. About...me." I can't control the whisper. "I don't feel right sometimes. Like I should be.. different. Like not everything is right and that there's a shifting of the world that isn't how it should be." I wonder if many in Konoha have delt with this, I had only learned about it in the Sand when I had traveled there during training.

Back then, now a little, I feel like Jiraiya had figured something out before me. Maybe not fully aware but knowing, knowledgable. He'd bought me a sky blue kimono of Sakura petal design and an obi meant for a woman's waist when there. But I don't fully know, he could have been teasing me.

Madara is different, he's never seen me appear as a female, I don't wear pretty clothes around him -though I love to do that wether it's a she or a he.- So he'd have no real reason to think of it. Not to mention, women were worth less then a man in his time.

"I would henge as a woman, and well... Sometimes I feel like a man, sometimes a woman, and a little bit of the time neither. I know its weird and not something that you-" he gets up. Doesn't say anything, shifts the muscles in his green yukata before he opens the door. A sting tinges in my eye and the call of desperation rings out in my head. I shouldn't have said anything.

"I-" he starts, but clamps his mouth shut before sighing, fingers twitching on the knob. "I need to go for a walk." Is all he ends up saying as he exits quickly and shuts the door lightly behind him.

Desperation and a movement of hope rises just a little in my chest.

I love him.

I love his support.

His endearments.

Love is meant to be painful, at least sometimes I know. Otherwise how can you know or understand it's joys?

I clean the cup before heading out myself.

I'm not comforted by the spring breezes or the warm blue sky sitting above me.

I find hope in the smallest of things, is that misguided? I suppose, just not to me. If I can long and think the best about people then I invite them to do the same for me right? I know the village, and I know the council, their prejudice. But I know of their families and their friends as well, hear their laughter in the streets. So they can't all hold malice, just the leading few.

Madara knows how I feel. I know how he is. That doesn't make me right, nor wrong, I have to go on my perspective on him. That tells me, that he loves me.

He does.

He cares.

He is patient.

He is truthful to himself.

He will make the call that will make him the most satisfied, the most happy. Even if acceptance lags behind.

My legs drag me to the barbeque joint, though I half expected for instinct to guide me to Ichiraku's. It not unpleasant when I see team Asuma sitting at the far right booth, indulging.

Ino -not on a diet anymore it seems- digging in with gusto alongside Choji, if a bit more restrained. Shikamaru eating only to appease his teammates, and Asuma counting his money on the table with a hasty expression. Its femilar and a welcome distraction from my platitudes.

"Hey guys!" Noticing me first Choji makes a sloppy motion with his hand brown sauce flying everywhere though Shikamaru swiftly, and uncaringly, dodges. Ino scowls at the larger man before smiling at me genuinely. No matter how we used to get along -which is to say not at all- she and I have a strange gravitational around each other and our personalities just kind of meld. Of she had been on our team seven I know she would have ended up my bestfriend as opposed to Sasuke.

I do still need to ask her to be the florist after all, -am I getting ahead of myself? Being presumptuous that Madara will choose me?-

"Well if it isn't Naruto! Where have you been? I heard Tsunade sent you on a mission ages ago but you took an extendable?" Ino gives me a sly look, as if everything to know about me had been displayed in the open and she was there to learn every detail. I giggle in response, scratching my neck. Team Asuma is probably the team I feel the most comfortable around besides my own. I've known, and been friends with Shikamaru since we were four, I connect with Ino, and Choji and I share similar ideals. Asuma is just cool without being intimidating. It couldn't hurt to tell them something could it?

"Actually..." Ino leans forward, and his lazy stare elevated the Nara of slacking off gives me full attention -for him- while Choji smiles through his food. I jutt my right hand forward displaying the ring there best I can for all of them to see.

"Holy crap kid." Asuma speaks first, money forgotten. "Holy crap." Then again. "Holy crap!" He grabs my wrist and surveys with the largest eyes I've ever seen on a jouin. "Your engaged?!" I don't bother answering him over Uno's squealing and Shikamaru's strange whining noise. Choji loudly chokes.

The resident -biological, female yanks my arm away from her sensei and gazes with the eyes of a goblin at the ring I bare. Taps it with her manicured nail. "Its real!" She declares glancing at her friends as if they had doubted it. She looks closer still taking in every detail. "And expensive! Naruto! This is Kina Otakuno's work!" I blink, I know fashion brands not jewelers.

Her eyes roll but the joyous expression on her face doesn't leave. "She's only the most prominent jewelry designer in all of the Fire Country!" Because of course she was, for a frugal man Madara could sure spend a lot.

Shikamaru seems more attentive at that. But whatever's on his mind he clearly doesn't say. "Man, that guy better know what he's doing." Yes, the pineapple head knows I'm gay, I've known him all my life he was bound to find out first.

"I didn't know you were gay Naruto." Over a mouthful of food. I smile, I don't expect hostility from the nicest person I know. "Congratulations on your engagement!" He speaks clear for the first time beaming at me.

"God! You didn't think to tell me?!" The platinum blonde yells at Shikamaru and I can't figure out if she's mad about my sexuality or just... Shikamaru.

"Don't scream woman... It wasn't mine to tell." A huff before she turns to me is all he gets.

"I want to hear all about your tastes in men later! And I expect you to answer every question as punishment for not telling me!" I laugh, and given the situation so does she, Asuma then Choji and finally Shika joins, the whole restaurant filling with laughter, luckily it's pretty empty.

"Oh Ino." I remember just before leaving, she blinks up at me. "I was wondering if you could be our florist? Or wedding planner has been dying because we hadn't-"

"OH MY KAMI YES!" Shouts louder the Shika can reasonably stand, even Choji flinches. I nod to her as I leave, not the she sees because she is scratching at her work notebook like life lays there.

The atmosphere outside the doors of the BBQ place is a little less pleasant. People stare at me as is normal, whispering amongst themselves as they scowl in my direction.

I really could do with a pair of warm arms and comforting Chakra right now. But if he needs time that's what he'll get, besides I have friends to great. Sakura especially, if I can find her.

I should probably tell Iruka. I decide against it, I want Madara to be there.

I make my way towards Sakura's apartment, its possible she's there, however unlikely. My path is blocked though by a large and friendly dog.

"Yo Naruto!" Kiba greets not to far behind his companion. The rest of his team beside him. Shino silently nods, repositioning his glasses while Hinata casts her eyes away from me and fiddles her fingers. Kurenai not with them.

"Hey you guys!" They're all slightly dirty and Kiba has a few rips on his pants, Hinata's hair is flying all directions, though Shino seems largely fine. Pristine compared to the others. "Mission?"

"Yes. Bandits." The murmuring answer from the bug user is almost missed as I'm more accustomed to people being loud. "And you?" It looks like Kiba wanted to ask first as he glared.

"I was in a small marketing town for most of the last year." The fact that it was far more welcoming then Konoha feels is not mentioned. Hinata smiles ever so subtly a grin might break her face I am convinced.

"T-t-t-thats n-n-nice, wh-aa-t d-d-diid yo-u d-o?" Her stutter got worse apparently she nearly quakes at every word. But at least she has a warm disposition.

"Eh," other then the romance drama I didn't do much of anything. "Nothing much, helped out mainly, the townsfolk needed some assistance sometimes as none of them had any real Chakra." Though few did, it wasn't enough to do anything with. Kiba is the one who twists his face in evaluation.

"Something happened though. You're... Almost, glowing." Shino confirmed with little more then an incline while the heiress seemed hesitant.

"M-m-maybe-" she didn't finish.

"You get laid?" Before her face turned into an apple imitator. I feel much the same way, it wasn't as if I hadn't been willing! But well... The man is pretty old... Biologically speaking he doesn't need an- an- an- a poking stick! Besides it's not like I've ever- not that I would without him though! Kiba doesn't need to be informed of any of this really. Worse gossip then Ino, not that I'd say it in the first place!

I don't think I need to because apparently I'm very readable. "No..." He puts his hand on his chin, as Hinata trys fruitlessly to regain some form of decent composure and I try to flush all thoughts of- of- s-s-s-se sentimentality of the physical! Out of my head. "Oh!" Punctuated by a snap of the fingers. "In love?" This time it's phrases as more of a question, even still I feel more of a blush -i hand realized it possible.- he cheers. Beside him the lavender woman seems to have won her battle with burning cheeks and instead looks more pale then a cloud in the lazy day sky.

"With whom?" Shino adds in, once more before Kiba can speak.

"Well you guys don't know him." Oops, I smack myself mentally, not everyone is accepting. Of course, that's just what had to occur because Kiba suddenly gained an apprehensive blankness.

"You..." He shuts his mouth quickly. I can't read him. The way he backs away makes me nervous, looking at anything but me, that's more annoyance, yet, shame springs forth more readily. "I, uh, have to give Akamaru a bath today. I forgot." That's it and he's gone, leaving me feeling ashamed although I shouldn't be, while Shino gazes at were the dog lover left.

He quietly replies. "it's strange, but so am I." Before following. Hinata stands in silence. Her head bowed. I want to know if she's okay, but with the mixed response from her comrades I don't want to push anything.

Her breath shakes, and though her stutter is gone her voice is so breathy it's near incomprehensible. "I'm very happy for you Naruto-kun. He's very lucky to be with... You." She hides her face but offers him a weak rather untrue smile before turning gently on her heels and leaving the same way her team had. Except her shoulders shake and I know I hear a muffled sob. I want to follow her, but I don't know how I could help her, I don't know what I did.

"Hin-"

"Naruto!" I jump a little at my mentor's unexpected voice, loud as usual and intrusive to my thoughts. Jiraiya is grinning, I have to do the same, he's rarely ever in the village so it's a treat to see him. Like Shikamaru he knows more about me then most, so I honestly am excited to tell him about my engagement.

His painful hair ruffle is almost pleasant. "Where've you been? Tsuande has been ranting my ear off!" Couldnt they get married first? I questioned that a lot. Then again, neither Jiraiya nor Tsunade are suited for the wedded life.

"Got engaged! More then you can say eh pervy-sage?!" I elbow him in the stomach as payback. 'Also he's older the you by at least fifteen years.' I will never live that down I am sure.

"Shut it gaki! Tell me about this man of yours!" Good natured as he is, he punctuates his sentence -teasing- with a raucous laugh and a slap on the back.

In honesty, even if I don't live down the embarrassment he will inflict on me, at least I know he'll accept that I'm dating someone far older then myself.

"He's older. Kind, introverted mostly, traditional minded." There are far to many ways in which to describe that man, so I settle on the plainest I can.

"Good sex?" Because he's Jiraiya, I smack my forehead in retribution for his sins.

"Wouldn't know." The gasp is almost comically expected.

"You've never had sex?! Where have I gone wrong..." The genuine way in which he says it is almost ridiculously convincing.

"We'll... Its not exactly easy for him to..." I'm sure he's aware what I mean and for a moment I fear a lecture, but he returns to himself rather quickly.

"Too...?" I glare.

"You know!" He snickers.

"Afraid not." He does, we both know he does.

"Get erect Jiraiya!" I yell, but he laughs in my face quite vigorously.

"I certainly hope that was the answer to a question." Humiliation rises once more, as I know the voice behind me, Madara. And I had just shouted at another man the state of his ability -or lack thereof- to pleasure. But from his standpoint it could have sounded as if I had just shouted for Jiraiya himself to-!

"Ma- Tajima!" My instincts scream at me to reassure him that what he heard was misconception, but the miniscule voice in my head says not to. I still don't know where he stands.

"Ah," is all Jiraiya responds with, seemingly with no issue as a light almost foud expression twitches in his lips. Though his gaze remains stern, staring upon Madara as if in assessment. Before he breaks first and nods to the man in what can only be described as a mutual understanding for I was not meant to be a recipient to the exchange.

I cast my eyes between the two of them, but in doing so catch Madara's attention, and he beckons me with merely a glace to a place where we can speak in privacy.

My nerves rattle me, and I go -to a small closed area of wooden fences diverting from the usual path, and out of ears to curious individuals. I hear a mutter cracked in tone, and deep sigh before I hear the small crunching sound of Madara's walking cane -sythe- on the dirt.

I don't meet his eyes, and barely dare to feel his warmth. With him so nearby I can hardly believe I had sought to tell him of my most dark of secrets, to risk losing him was the most idiotic thing I have ever done.

Fingers gracing my temple, I twitch violently in response and meet his eyes, he frowns.

"The imagination you have." He shakes himself, and withdraws his hand. "I am a man to far femilar with hate to seek her as a companion once more. Naruto. Hate is such a wasteful thing, I cannot hate what brings love to me." A daunting emotion crawls into my mouth, tingling my tongue in an attempt to shake it lose.

I bite down.

"I love you. Not your concept." A hold myself from embracing him. "Husband, Spouse, Wife, you are Naruto Uzumaki -soon to be Uchiha, I found myself in deep for one far younger then me. More adapt, accepting." He pauses drawing breath.

"I can recognize the mistakes of my own generation, whether or not I believe them to be mistakes is another matter entirely. Though I try to consider myself liberal, I know I am not fully, I cannot fathom a woman's place on the battlefield, but I can respect a woman that fights on one equally as much as I would respect a woman of the house. My views hold no bearing on anyone but myself and I hold that as a fundamental truth." He struggles to phrase himself.

"I believe that a woman is meant to rear the young, cleanse the home, cook for the good of her family. However, strength in anyone is whatever they decide it to be. So therefore; any female has her own right to choose her path for herself and decide if she is best suited for the home or for battle. I believe a man's place to be one of chivalry, bravado and honour. The battlefield should be his expected location, and the home his destination. He should care for his family no less then his wife should and consider himself a provider for their needs, himself coming second."

Is it difficult to understand his position? No. Am I weary of what he thinks of me now? A little. His views are far from perfect but considering how I know his world to have been, they are far superior to what I had imagined.

I wait for him to say more, because he is hesitant, some sweat on his forehead.

"I cannot promise to be entirely liberal with you should you pursue the path of... Feminity, but I will regard you as your husband, in loving devotion. Regardless of gender."

I feel the weight off my shoulders, the tear in my eye.

I am the one who instigates our long kiss.

Chapter Text

Conformality is a strange ideal. It is among one of the many juxtapositions I have grown accustomed to in my life of continual social digression. That does not make it entirely pleasing. That said, it is a much more comfortable alternative.

Individuality is an aspiration, many who strive do not dare to invision. As they remain blinded to common beliefs and ridiculous social standards set by ignorant people of a good upbringing, and wealthy relatives. That is history itself decides vastly on how the future shall proceed. This works not in the manner of people, for people shape and vary in ways that the past cannot fathom.

As such is the way of Konoha.

It was made proper that man marry a woman. It was made proper that you keep to yourself a separation of femininity and masculinity in order to please others ideals. It was made proper to be socially acceptable. As a child I could not understand. I do not believe children living in good housing, with fair decent sized meals, and clothing to warm their backs even understand.

Community offers friendships, but it brings with it the plague of prejudice and division of self.

In this; I consider myself lucky.

Sure I was born to parents. And I am positive that they would have raised me in the same fashions depictions of humanity that are false and rose tainted. I am sure I would have conformed.

I don't need parents anymore, I have my own group of support and a head of my own to understand what I will of the world. Maybe that's my way of saying that the thought of me denying myself is more painful then the years of solitude I had wandered through.

An obscure thought. But as I'm wiping the counter its not as if I don't have time. Madara sits at the small -overly so- table, not a complaint yet escaped him over the size of my apartment. I suppose he has patience enough for that yet. Honest with myself, I can acknowledge the fact of his own discomfort, sound rational and the logics that he so commonly refers to are not at his disposal when placed in his position of powerless acceptance. I say this in my confidence of his character. A man of vast vocabulary, yet a man of many silences; I know that now, this is too much a strain even for his longest duration of peace in quiet.

The oventimer rings disorrentatedly, having broken years ago, and being of vintage design. Madara did so hate the sound, however now he sits in his silence and instead of him scowling at the old thing, it is I who flinch at his absence. Nevertheless, I bowl the plain vegetable stew, knowing well enough it is far from a delicious meal. The stores denied me entrance again today, its been a long time since I had to ration so much. Were I younger I would have simply gone to Ichiraku's and eaten there, less ryo then the shops, but I cannot, Madara needs healthier food, and he is a disaster at any form of cooking. Just as well, I don't want him to know. I'll just go on an extra mission this week to get a slight boost.

I put the bowl in front of him, hoping the sound will provide suitable distraction. His attention is grasped in a startle, and he looks to me with the same expression that I remember of when I had first caught his fancy. One that paints a smile onto me in relief; that he does not change in the face of his own new revelations.

In a moment of selfish desire, I grasp upon his hand, loosely splayed on the surface of the table.

"Just, tell me something?" He makes a grip onto my own hand in his, so strange when put together the delicate tan and ivory placed over each other, yet to mine own eyes it only presents the picture of two together. "Your love for Hashirama, did it feel different then.. Us?" He stirs his soup, putting some of it on the spoon.

"Hn," he whispers to himself, eating. "Yes." He answers, but focuses only on eating instead of looking to me, or elaborating. I take a drink of my own soup, chewing the soft carrots and wishing I had devised a better broth. Still the taste is think without being difficult and goes down smoothly. I had asked too much to quickly, but at least he doesn't begrudge my curiosity. Though I am fast to change the topic.

I look to him first, and remove my hand, take his glass, and move to the kitchen the short escape from pressurized thoughts. "Madara." I fill the kettle and fetch the pot stored in the backmost area of my cupboard. "Tomorrow." I pause, grasping at my own thread of thought. "I think, I will want to wear a kimono." I reach to grab the tea leafs, but I keep them on the topmost shelf because of the orphans who used to frequent here for selter. A special blend I made when I was younger due to my own problems with depression and desperation. Problematically I did have to climb on the counter in order to put them up there.

Madara's arm parallels mine, and I draw back, I hadn't heard him move. He doesn't look to me, but he betrays little emotion. "Of what design." He hands me the tea, looking to me with warm disposition. Despite my own warning to myself to not be hasty, I find myself at comfort.

"Well I have a lot! Do you want me to wear something specific?" His arms cross and he looks to me up and down, though I don't know what he's looking for his gaze is so intense I feel fluttered at it.

"A Tsukesage." I smile. Colour springs to mind, and I know it to be red, I only have one in pale red, almost pink in tone with a simple pattern of wind sweeping gentle marigolds. I think that will suit him fine. I do want the both of us to be the most comfortable we can be with everything brought forth.

I break in a slight squeak at my next sentence. "Do you mind t- breasts?" He gives me a curious look, not forthcoming, but a small grin forms. "Not at all, do what you feel most right."

"Your thinking something dirty." He chuckles a little.

"I do so far more than you are aware of."

"Huh? Really?" He grasps my arm, firmly.

"You are magnificent. And I look forward to our wedding night, whatever it shall entail." That catches my attention, my heart thumps so loudly in my chest I can feel it in my toes, warm and buzzing with life. Unexpectedly I feel my groin stir at his interest. He had never displayed any before. Something must have changed.

"Not because of my female form right?"

"Not at all. I've been meaning to say that for many days now." The giggle slips out accidentally. He kisses my forehead. I put my hands to his chest, feeling the little sigh he lets loose and the firm muscle underneath. When he moves back I lean my weight, tapping my head against his shoulder.

"I'll get your tea, and I'll make you some Mochi too…" He looks about to respond, however a knock sounds at the door, Madara, predictably scowls at the wooden surface. He does so hate people. I give him a pat, both as a comfort and a threat to be nice. Its not as if it's all that late, though I don't usually get company. Judging by the insistent nature of the knocking, and that it was more of a pounding then a polite gesture, I could surmise it to be Iruka, after all he is a worrying man. Though that is not how he knocks, even when concerned his methods are far more gentle, no, this distinctively belongs to Sakura.

In practise I have found it best when opening the door for her, to stand slightly to the right as to not get hit by her fist as she goes in for yet another knock. At this point I have begun to wonder if she had purposely hardened it into habit to bang on the door so that she may have the distinct pleasure of hitting me in the face. She does so enjoy that. Not that I would dare to speak that directly to her, knowing her as I do I would be accused of calling her a sadist; which is not far off I guess, not a fabricated lie in any case. Let us hope for the enteral luck that she not be greeted by my Fiancee I do so think he would find it less amusing then I. In fact he would probably strike her back, which would not forward well in terms of friendships.

This time as I open the door, she ungracefully stumbles within almost as if she had lost her footing and fallen from a long run around the village. Though she corrects herself from falling into the floor and breaking her nose, I get the distinct impression that whatever she has come here for is urgent. Given how her face distorts itself at the sight of me into one of objectionable rage. Oblivious to the other in the room in her blinding anger at me. To what reasoning I cannot say.

"Naruto! Is it true your engaged?!" I suppose that was to be expected, honestly I did assume word had reached her sooner, the village was one of ricious gossip. Ino could have told her, but I know for certain that the florist is rather repoached to Sakura and has been since early childhood years due to a slight of character on my teammate's side, a matter to which I am not privy. Tsunade of course is the next one who would have said something, although I think she's been overseeing a major overhaul of staff at the moment, so time would not be plentiful to gossip with her pupil. That is Jiraiya could have said something sordid that caught Sakura's attention, though the women could barely be around the man without want to punch him in the face for sly remarks about her boob size. So I imagine not. Then again it is not of considerable concern to where she became aware, only that she had.

So, in a nervous smile, enlightening of my true feelings in addition to caution at informing one of my oldest friends, I motion to Madara who is sitting once more calmly at peace with his cup of tea, not giving neither me nor Sakura a glance. This is his position when someone he deems unworthy of his time and energy enters our space. It is not a movement of ill manners but instead temperamental territorial tendencies ingrained within his mind. Not a good thing, considering I had so hoped they would get along, that seems far gone a wish due to how Sakura announced herself. I am almost positive that he has solidified in his mind that she is nothing more then a brash unbecoming women with little social grace and the standing of a lower clan, to which he did not greet with kind reception.

Nervous now, it would be helpful if he could at least pretend to be courteous. I know he is more then able, considering his many years of playing diplomat/adviser to the first Hokage. Indeed as merely a clan head. "Sakura this is Taijma, my Fiancee. Love, this is my teammate Sakura Haruno, I told you of her." I hope that may spur him into the action of being at least a little more respectful, that is of course a ridiculous useless hope, seen as I actually know the man better then that. He does nothing for merely my sake, something I both hate and love equally. Of course, in introducing her, Sakura in a true show of pink haired fury does respond unkindly, turning to me with an incensed expression as if I had committed a grievous fault, who knows, maybe to her I had. Its not as if she has the most calm manner.

"What the hell Naruto! He looks like he is in his seventies!" Madara snorts, keen it appears, to be as unhelpful as he can. I cast my eyes to him for just a moment wary of Sakura before me, he sips at his tea.

"Sakura-chan-"

"No! I refuse to let this stand!" I suppose I knew she would be mad from the start. Still dare she, its not as if she knows him, his personality! Indeed how he is with me when not insulted by the presence of someone he considers not worthy of his attention! Truthfully it feels as if she is insulting the both of us. My intelligence and right to choose for myself. Madara for simply being older then myself. I have never desired to hit her as much as I do now.

"That is not your decision to make!" This only seems to rile her further, face scowling, beauty maring.

"Don't be an idiot! You can't be happy with someone so much older then yourself! He's taking advantage of you!" It takes a moment, but my entire mind drifts away from her, no feelings clouding in judgemental staring, no, there is a lightness of absence and the objective reasoning that I am angry, without the sensation of the burning emotion behind the knowledge. It simply is. More angry then I can remember being in a long time without any sort of indication but the knowing of what my brain is telling me to be truth.

"Get out." Her expression shatters, any sort of indignation she may have been displaying before now gone, and a embittering visage of betrayal taking providence, at any other point in time I would have felt horrible for doing that to her. I cannot, I am the one who feels shaken. An ache settles into my chest as if I had just been told the most horrid lie in existence, and who knows maybe I have. I find it difficult to speak clearly, a turning noxious of anger and sorrow molded into betrayal seeps within my mind like a poisoned thought. Still unable to fully acknowledge my own understanding of feeling without sensation.

Only as soon as I think it is almost pleasant within the bonds of numbness it comes rushing forward with the force of a kick to the chest. So pointent that the anger I had known I've been possessing drops deep into my stomach as a stone, and that noxious mixture of feeling is suddenly the only thing I can recognize. In this way the tears running from my cheeks so fastly are already causing soreness, and my voice comes forth yelling, screeching, cracking in intensity.

"GET OUT!" My entire arm shakes as I force the door open, shoving her out without reproach. The implication of her allegation so daunting to my mind I cannot even think of it without a violent fuel settling in my mind. In fact with the horrid emotions now taking wing in my mind, I consider momentarily the benefits of strangling her so that such things will never be said from her again.

The door slams shut as a type of finality to me, my entire body trembling with light feeling. I want to lash out, Tsunade, Sakura and Kiba, all so judgemental of something they themselves have no business in. As if they are somehow marrying Madara instead of me, as if I was at fault for harboring feelings. What crime is that!? I can say with certainty it is not!

Betrayal so unassumed in intent is bitter. Once rage leaves there is only a caution, a sorrow in place of where such trust had once resided.

I wonder what Sasuke would have said. I wonder what he would have done in my place, what he would think were he in Sakura's. Perhaps an insult as well, of different, maybe even kinder tone, without the unprecedented prejudice behind the tone. Without the caution resting on his tongue and forward laughing of my own choice in partner. I almost wish him here, simply for the comfort of his familiar manner, Sakura so unlike herself, Sasuke would be a kind difference, because he had never seen me as the other's had. Laughing at my weakness now, as I stare at an innocent door in blame and cry over a insulting comment. Calling me a moron.

"Beloved." I hadn't remembered he was still within the room, how humiliating, in response my eyes tear up more, maximizing the effect of my embarrassment. My hands hold in my tears away from view. He pries them away forcefully. I look at him, so blurred above me now thanks to my own weakness. "Why are you so upset?" I don't know. Really, something about her accusation had just drove me to a breaking point. Yet, what she had said, it had been so likened to what I have heard from the villagers when speaking of my own trickster nature, all my life dealt with that label taking away any friends I made, those exact words whispered behind hands, or said outright to other children as if I was a demon coherencing them to their own deaths for my own ends.

I cannot bare to say that to him, let him remain ignorant. Allow him to think that I have always been just another within the crowd. That I was never treated with different reception. I shake my head and hold onto him, resting onto his covered chest.

"The Haruno clan was obscure in my time. I am surprised they survived the wars. So very weak to the prowess of a sharpened blade. They all practised as healers I believe, which lead them to a great number of deaths. It is not wise to only have one type of specialist in a clan.-" He continues telling a tale of the Haruno that had been past down from one of the Senju's encounters with them, wherein half their clan had been disemboweled. I don't hear much of it, focusing merely on the rise of his chest and the drawl of his voice as he grants me distraction. He leads me to bed, and we lay there as he tells countless stories from his youth, even a few from when he had heard the rumblings of the The Second Great Shinobi war when within the sanctity of the shrine far removed from the fighting. Explaining to me that should he had the desire he would have aided, however, with Tobirama in lead he would rather have dismembered his own arm. He spoke in very quiet tones near where I drifted into sleep about Izuna, not much, he was so very guarded, but there were a few things, I did catch that his favourte time of year was when it was warm but not hot, without the distracting snow, and the leafs would fall as a cascade of sunset colour onto their heads in traveling.

I sleep with him beside me, the energy I had previously held so far gone, I think the anger I had possessed to have stolen it for hell to consume. It is only the beginning of the day, and yet I wish for tomorrow.

I bet that tomorrow there'll be sun. Just thinking about tomorrow clears away all anger and bitter sorrow till theres none.

Where I'll just stick up my chin, and grin, and say, the sun will come out tomorrow.

No matter how many times that may take to become a reality.

Did I borrow from Annie at the end there? Yes, yes I did.

So yeah, we've got more chapters abound because I can't seem to finish this quickly, so sorry about that I suppose, although I think you all get a kick out of it personally.

Don't know quite how I'll handle Naruto's female form, maybe I'll add larger breasts, maybe smaller breasts, who knows at this point?

I really want to do an Annie AU for Naruto... -.- No restraint.

For all those interested I am working on a Hogwarts AU, its Omegaverse (because I'm a sucker for it.) Set in 1949-1955 -in Britain of course-. I just don't know what pairing it should be. I'm doubting MadaNaru, maybe I'll even return to my roots and it will be SasuNaru. Well, you guys are free to tell me what you would like of course.

Chapter Text

He sleeps with eyes only lightly closed, so perspective even in sleep, ready for a battle no matter his circumstance.In my time with him I have learned that waking him is a poor decision, letting him naturally come to serves to prevent my face from being painfully hit by an astray punch.

This morning he isn’t in bed when I wake, not completely unusual, occasionally he’ll need the fresh air to calm himself, or just the excursion to sooth battered thoughts. He’ll have night terrors that I cannot calm, or attempt to shield me from, and move away to process them on his own. I worry about them, I always consider that he should visit or procure some form of counselling but he’s such a stubborn man I doubt he would ever allow it.

No matter, I have some peace to myself. That isn’t saying that I don’t relish in his company, I desire all forms of human contact or attentions from a life so starved; however, even I need a moment of reprieve. This morning should be enough for me to reasonably refuel myself. Indeed this morning will suit me just fine, I am in need of time to myself in order to properly prepare. It has been a long time since I fully pledged myself to a female form, so I could probably use to solitude to make myself more comfortable. My modest cabinet of drawers is modest and does not hold an abundance of clothing, all of it male and rather plain -bright orange is not plain I know that.- My closet on the other hand is rarely opened, filled with traditional women's kimonos and yukatas alike. I had considered getting some more modern clothing but money is tight, and well… Its all very revealing, I’m not sure I’m ready for that, not yet.

The one I choose today is the one I had previously depicted, a Tsukesage; in fact it was rather a hybrid of a houmongi, with the crossing of the seams, but it is still one of my favourites. It is a pale -near pink, red, with the simple pattern of marigolds, and swirling dark blue wind breezing across the fabric. As an obi I have decided on one of my more lavish ones, made with imitation silver tread and brocade fabric in ivory and silver. The thread forming a simple illustration of small songbirds in flight. I want to do this correctly so I even take the liberty to fetch my undergarment.

Finally, I henge, taking up the form of a woman, not quite like Naruko as I had so developed her. Instead I have shrunk the breasts to a more modest size, kind of modeled on Ino’s -not that I wish for that to get out- with the curvature of a women. Even the anatomy is all correct, internally and externally, because to me, it just feels wrong not to. Strictly speaking my body is already rather feminine with curvature and muscle mass not befitting the ‘proper’ visage of a man my age. I feel my hair slope down not very long and reaching only my shoulder blades, straight as a board for some reason or another.

Not that it matters. I am not the most adapt person out there at dealing with my hair, but I have been taught by a stylist in one of the far reaching villages how to do my hair in a simplistic shimada style with a beautiful silver comb Jiraiya had bought me for my fifteenth.Using some very plain wooden sticks as rods within. And a modest orange and pink kanzashi with only two stocks on the side.

Honestly, I’ve always forgone using the strong white paste on my face even when alone, I just don’t like the way it appears on my skin, the only makeup I ever use is a very boring red kohl under my eyes. Looking in the mirroring to see how I have changed is one of the most fun aspects in my day. Truly it fills me with a sensation of invulnerability to be able to be so open with someone as to this side of me. Perhaps, should it suit him, I will even venture out of the apartment and we could get a bite to eat like this. I think we would make a pretty couple -not that we aren’t already.-

I find that when I henge my stance shifts and I no longer walk in the same way, I can only suppose that has something to do with the female anatomy, but I am too apprehensive to ask Tsunade about it, nor Sakura; especially given the circumstances I wake to find myself in today. What with a certain, anonymity between her and I, although admittedly more rooted in the depths of my feelings of resentment.

Nerves defy me as I pace around our minimal kitchen. There are many other concerns I could put my attention to, ones of more prevalent in regard to their importance to myself, and indeed to Madara. Even so, I can only find my mind adrift in considering what my fiancee will think upon seeing me. He was only attempting to be more open, after decades of sexism and intolerance, I can not be expected of him. Which is why I am now making a soothing breakfast for him when he returns. I had gotten things ready somewhat already -woken early in the night,- so I am now plating the rice, and boiling the miso soup just a little longer, while the salman was being slowly grilled. I decided on Inazizurchi for lunch, seen as it is his favourite. And have made sure to avoid purchasing anything with roe on it. Had I, he would not eat it, he gags every time, it would be amusing if I wasn’t subjected to his stealing of my pillow should it occur. For tea, the most simple I can find within the market, a sencha tea that he has not tasted for awhile due to my feverence regarding his health.

I do hope all of this will put forth his good graces. Should it not, well, he was a man who always enjoyed a good meal made with care.

It is as I am placing the steeping tea pot onto the table that the door opens. In walking the subject of my frayed nervous twinge so present in my twitching fingers. My mind remains in a state of considerence at seeing his appearance. Normally he would dawn a very comfortable robe reaching to the cobblestone path, his scythe -nee walking stick, dragging behind himself. Now he is dressed with the typical jonin turtleneck and black shinobi pants. He stands taller then he did previously, confident, mesmerizing, intimidating. This is where my knowledge of him becomes the most helpful. Because of whom I know him to be in ideals and tolerance; I am more then aware that he has done something I would consider foolish or even idiotic if I had been awake to meet his decision. So that is why he had left so early this morn, I do sometimes hate his acknowledged wisdom for this very reason.

Anger is never aidful when asking anything to him. So I paint my voice in curiosity and sugar coated apprehension. “Where were you then?” He pauses a moment, stiling his hand, before continuing to run it through the side of his long grey-white hair. -this does nothing to smooth it back, standing on end once more as it always does.- His eyes roam over me as he responds, and if I wasn’t so nervous as to his answer I would be more timid in my appearance. He doesn’t comment on my attire however.

“I applied for the Jounin test.” Coldness ruptures in my chest, like a great dam bursting open, the flood of cold water is so stark I nearly topple over in intensity. A foreign form of fear rupturing from pure protective instinct. Anger at him not consulting me is mulled by the intensity of the rapids now turning within me.   

“The Jounin exam! Do you know how difficult that is?! How dangerous! Madara you are not a young man! It could kill you!” He sighs loudly, fueling the minimal anger I feel to a boiling point among the numbing cold, creating a fog of emotion so unlike my normal comforts.

“I am more then aware.” Were I not as infatuated with him as I am, I would have slapped him at that. His dry snark is hardly something I can handle at the moment, so overcome with panic. “Naruto, you must understand it is torturous simply allowing you to see to my every comfort. I must provide for you as well.” He tries to meet my eyes, I don’t allow him the privilege. My mind understands, I do not. Nor do I wish too.

“You never complained before…” I hadn’t realized that had been his position either, he had always been more then sweet with me when I wondered around our living space working about the place. My incomprehension snaps my anger into focus as an elastic. “I don’t know how you even managed to get access to the exam anyway! Its not as if you are a citizen anymore!” I decide it best for the both of us that I bring my attention to anything other then Madara’s ridiculous ideas, to think I made some of his favourite too…

:”I am marrying a citizen of Konoha, that makes me legible.”

“That’s stupid.”  It isn’t, not entirely, I have always been well aware of the clause, I suppose I have just been trapped within misgivings to really assume he would pursue it. Of course he would, he despises standing still, doing nothing while I work and fret about, he always has. Who am I to stop him from something that will set his mind at ease? More then that, who am I to keep my village from having a powerful ally such as him? It would be wrong of me to withhold him only for my own when there is so much he could provide for my home. Security, power, intelligence, traditional values, all invaluable, and I cannot ignore that, no matter my desire.

He has never considered his age a factor. Indeed he never behaves like a man over a hundred. Standing tall -not his full height but tall,- prideful, his scythe is not even there to support his weight, no, it is infact a matter of protection to have beside him. The blade continually hidden so that should he need it, he may kill at a moments notice. Even his sharingan still grants him power, maybe not entirely what it was in his prime but nonetheless still able to do what it must, and from what he has told me he rarely ever uses it for anything more dramatic then tracking his enemies movements. Perhaps the only part of him that has truly been affected by the test of time is his physical prowess, actually I only refer to his strength in his Taijutsu not his reflexes he can move just as swiftly as long as he remains in motion in times of reprieve.

This time it is I who sighs. Selfish of me to want him trapped here in safety. “Don’t do nothing stupid.” He takes it for what it is, and speaks nothing more of it, putting his scythe to lean against the wall, walking to his spot at the table for some food.

“You look lovely today.” He spares himself. Yet, all I can do is allow it, his mind is made, and I have no leverage. So I smile at him, because I had all but forgotten my attire. He seems genuinely to like it, though I suppose that is because of the traditional kimono I wear, my hair to is meant to be something he can easily recognize as something from his own time.  His fingertips brush a strand of hair from my face and I finally decide to meet his eyes. His expression is that of fondness a gentle, kind, vulnerable, so far removed from his normal stirn visage. Even his eyes have warmed so much from what I am used to. “I do so look forward to marrying you.” Not the words I had hoped for, but they are pleasing nonetheless. I brazenly kiss his cheek, becoming so bold, yet he takes it in stride, and even tilts his head slightly to the press of my lips, a smile forms on his mouth.

I sit for the breakfast I have prepared, more then glad it will not be going to waste.

After our meal, we both rise, I moving the dishes to be washed in the evening while he drinks the last part of his tea. We don’t speak at mealtimes, at his own insistence, says it is a disservice to sulley a good meal with chatter.

“That was delicious.” He says as he always does. I laugh a little, because well..

“We both know thats not true. I am a horrible cook, you lier.” He quirks his lips in a subdued smirk.

“Not at all.” One thing he is good at without training is flattery, he knows how to make me feel like I’m better then I am. I adore him all the more for it too.

I wonder why people can’t see him as I do, sure he’s a little wrinkled, a little more wise then the common man my age, but that makes him all the more interesting. All the more intelligence to learn from, all the more features to trace, more of the man is always better then less. A larger number just means more candles on the cake to me. Why can’t people just leave me from their own moral arguments? I don’t care for it at all, they act like such favour givers, as if they are enlightening me to something I cannot see for myself, even though its plain as day that he is older. They think themselves so arrogant to believe they can control who I love or who I should be with. What I should think, it is none of their concern how I live. No matter their relation to me.

Is that not what independence is? True independence doesn’t start at a number, but at the understanding that no one else holds precedence over your life without your consent. They do not have it, nor will they ever.

Which makes me think of introducing him to some more of my friends. I’m more then capable of taking a little more citisising and judgement. He’s only met Sakura, Tsunade and Jiraiya as I recall. He has yet to meet Kakashi, team 10, and -perish the thought- Iruka. I would also like him to meet Gaara, I’m almost positive those two would hit it off right away. Iruka I dread to think about, and Kakashi… Well, I’ll hold onto the hope that he is not reading his porn when we next meet, Madara is so very against pornography.

He does need to meet Ino, for the sake of our wedding flowers, and probably Chouji for the sake of food: I do have yet to ask him if his mother could possibly cook for us. Oh, and I do need to ask Iruka to step in as my (un)official father. There was also the need to ask the most local shrine to allow for the ceremony. I wish for a more modernized wedding, however Madara and I have been entangled in a very long lasting argument on the matter. He has allowed for a less traditional fargoence of custom, but he wants for Uchiha tradition to be followed which sets me on edge due to the numerous laws they hold for marriage. Yet I cannot merely deny him can I?

I just wish we could move out of this closest space, he hasn't spoken openly about it, but I know well enough his opinion.

“Say, what does an Uchiha wedding look like?” I ask, only because I never have, only looked meekly through a recovered scroll found in recent years in passing, all that I could conclude was that it was a very stern affair. I hadn’t really considered it, not even considering how Madara might feel about it. I owe it to him to listen at the least.

“Well, in my day it was a necessary thing, marriages of love were luxuries among those who did not hold high position in the clan. Commonly the Uchiha partner would wear a long embroidered overcoat overtop of battle clothing -should they have it. This overcoat is usually made with symbols of peace for good fortune, and the flower of fertility for obvious reasons. The person marrying into the family will wear a traditional garments. If male: A hakama but it be made with all white fabrics instead of the common black or grey this to demonstrate the man's willingness to follow Uchiha standards and traditions, indeed the male hakama was actually heavily detailed with all sorts of designs and patterns. If female, then she will wear the Shiromuku which I’ve noted is still in practise today. However, there is to be no colour allowed for an Uchiha ceremony it must be in pure white, so no red trim as seen these days.” That’s actually a rather pretty image I must say, and it shouldn’t take to much work to make such a garment.

Truthfully our planner, whom despite her irritating nature has been a saint in regards to helping us. Seen as we have not agreed as to what sort of ceremony we will hold, she has mainly been focusing on the reception, which Madara agreed to be a more modern affair rather then a boring ancient type of event. Though I have taken the liberty of telling her to ascertain an officator from the local shine to oversee a Shinto ceremony near the area Madara had so wished to marry, I recall her saying that he had been in protest to the untraditional setting, but had nevertheless agreed.

Although we can no longer be passive in our discussions, I have to be more open to his traditions, as our wedding fast approaches and I will need to decide on what to wear fast. In fact it actually is weighing on me, I’m more then aware I will be making my own wedding robes and I will be able to make them quite fast should I use shadow clones, but we haven't even agreed on how to go about marrying each other and that needs to be done. -Yes I can make clothing, self taught, which is how I have so many kimonos.-

“The ceremony itself?” He grabs at my waist unexpectedly, grasping my attention easily as I turn to face him. He tilts my hand skyward and folding it as if it were holding a fan the other hand he brings to his neck cupping the side gently. Hes smiling so calmly, as if it were common for him to do so, and in honesty it makes me feel special for having seen it so free, even though I am marrying him.

“You would be holding a duel coloured fan of red and white, the lightest side facing the present family, the red side would be towards us, as a sign of your secret sin. Before the ceremony begins you would hold the fan up in front of our faces as you kiss me, the draw away and once more fold the fan as we sit to begin the ceremony. Wherein we will both receive three different sized cups to drink out of. Each of us drinking three sips from each before the worshiper blesses us to good fortune. Therein I will whisper a vow of protection before kissing you in turn. That is where the ceremonial part ends and the reception follows.” Grand, is all I can think. Konoha has for as long as I can remember has followed a very traditional Senju form of wedding, which is very different from the Uchiha one from what I understand now. I can’t even remember why I would want to marry in such a way when the Uchiha manner is so much more romantic.

“I want that.” Phrasing could have been so much better, but I am overwhelmed by the sudden need to marry him, an excitement I haven’t had as of yet. Now it pours through me like liquid fire. He only allows his jaw to unclick for a moment before he firmly presses his lips to my cheek, and I am pressing into the touch in joy.

There is an awful lot to arrange beforehand though, and not a long time to do so. This brings me to sigh, even in a moment of elevation responsibility weighs on me. At least I have the comfort that the reception is set to what I want it to be. The flowers will be ordered today as I desire in coordination of my chosen colour theme. Matching colours, mine being a pastel yellow, and Madara’s being a deep navy in respect to Uchiha war uniform. Indeed I have even begun stitching my Iro-Uchikake for the reception, as I’ve decided I want to look beautiful on my wedding day not plain in mens clothing.

Madara won’t even get to know what I’ll be wearing before the moment of truth. I am a believer in the Senju myth that seeing your partner before the ceremony only brings bad luck to the couple. A silly superstition, but I do not want to take any risks, this will be a perfect day for us both, I will not have it ruined over a coincidence.

There is also the matter of my estranged best friend whom, I do hope to have attend the ceremony. He can, as he is part of the Uchiha clan and it wouldn’t be a break of tradition. I intend to use Jiraiya for this seen I’m more then aware of his correspondence with Orochimaru. There is another I wish to be there, but that, is more unlikely, I do believe that my mentor could convince him too. I can only hold hope on his appearance however, no guarantees in that. No matter how much I wish it. Although I suppose it should be said I am no fan of the man in his character, but it would be wrong for him not to be there, even further I have suspensions due to Jiraiya’s connection that there is something I am missing from his repertoire.

Sasuke is in fact an official missing-nin at this point, however one of the few clauses of Konoha that I rather like, is the fact that should there be a wedding ceremony anyone can be invited even missing-nin. Should they cause trouble it is seen as a disrespect to the couple marrying, especially as marriage is a sacred event in the Fire Country. Therefore it is expected that all invited will behave themselves and act accordingly without inappropriate action. Even now, there has never been an incident of this being held in bad faith.  

“I’ve got to go about Konoha today, prepping for the wedding and all. You will come with me won’t you? There are people I want you to meet, and I could use you as a boost of confidence. I’ve never properly gone out as a woman.”

“Hm, of course.” We put on our sandals quickly, my own not fully on before I’m grabbing his hand and exiting the apartment.

Nervous jitters at wearing my kimono in public almost having me forget to lock the door, had my fiancee not purposefully cleared his throat behind me.

I leave for the first time as a woman, intent to marry.

------------------------------

You will note that I have used Traditional Kimonos and foods that Japan is so well known for. It should be said, this is a lazy shortcut on my part. More then often, I will be inclined to evolve the Japanese fashion and cuisine, architecture, with that of the Chinese. Or in fact change the ethnicity or cultural significance that Naruto is cast into for the sake of creativity.

However, seen as we are placed in a time we are familiar with, and as this is a lazy write on my part I have decided to be quite unoriginal. My apologies.

Chapter Text

 The village is full with people, no one stopping or slowing down, questing in everyday life. Because of shinobi upbringing, training and all, I find it almost to busy even if it is nothing but normal rutine. Still its pleasant out, for the end of the season at least, a little bit of a bite to the wind that grabs at the ankles. The wind rustling through the trees can’t be heard here, to much construction about, civilians building some new homes, and people arguing about nothing.

A few younger men, who I happen to know from the academy are smoking in the corner, they aren’t shinobi, quit after the exams, not that I can blame them. Though back in the day they weren’t very good people, from what I understand they still aren’t. One of them, the side man of the leader a blond with slanted brown eyes gives me a strange look. He then proceeds to wolf-whistle me. Contempt raises in my stomach, and I look as far away from him as possible. It's a pretty common occurrence in Konoha, but I had never expected it to happen to me, ever. A cat call gets thrown out now in a mixture of whisling and perverted slurs. To me, it really feels like it always has so as soon as I focus on that thought I can ignore them, in pretending they are speaking in mocking and jibes at my humanity.

Just because I can I raise my chin up and make myself as impervious as possible to their calls. My kimono makes me feel dignified, noble almost, as if I’m someone of importance, its a feeling I could get used to if I’m honest. Even the traditional and really very old-fashioned style is like a weight on my head speaking in my ear that I can ignore them because they are the worse party. The obi around my waist is lavish, and I can pretend it comes from my favourite seamstress in the household.

For the first time, perhaps, in my life, I feel safe on the streets of Konoha, and thats not just because of the man standing hauntingly behind me, but because I feel confident in my clothes. As if my aspiration to become Hokage is more then just a fantasy. Now I am walking forth, forward, to prepare my wedding and I couldn’t feel anymore joyful, anymore in control of my own life. If the council decides to make trouble for this one moment of serenity I have achieved I’ll put them down to size for once.

I soar a little, perhaps in a bit of an exaggerated manner, at the welcome understanding that his tread has changed. He no longer walks around the water in worried demeanor, but walks through it with a heavy stride. Many would claim this a horrid approach for a shinobi, but this is not a matter of skill. He has regained himself, in confidence, in trust, and dignity, and I like to consider, that even maybe slightly I had aided in that mental and emotional recovery. Any thought in that likeness has me grinning like a mad woman, possessed indeed by Kyuubi’s influence, but only in my self-confidence do I relish.

Am I a man? Am I a woman? What does it matter to me. I lay within my own consciousness as alive, and for myself as a trained man of combat, I consider that to be achievement in itself, simplistic view or not. I am alive and I am human. Though the presentation of a woman grants me safety from the bounds of discovery, as a man I am known to those I cherish. How could I possibly decide between those options? So I will not. Although Madara seems disapplication of the calls I receive merely in walking. Not unexpected due to my traditional dress and hair, I am unusual which makes me interesting, which in turn either makes me strange or appealing.

I do not lessen my stride as I take my fiancee’s hand into my own, proceeding as dignified as I can to my destinations, only a few.

Surely Ino will not mind my change, nor Chouji from what I know of him. I doubt Iruka will much care if I am man or woman, he has made clear to me his feelings towards me in good faith I trust the man with my very life. Kakashi, perhaps is the largest risk, but even he could be considered of liberal mind and will not ask further then perhaps a single shocked look and a perverted smile. I refuse to worry about perception any longer.

Yamanaka first, I decide. Flowers have been put off to long already, and they will likely need to order in advance as it is. The shop entranceway bell greets us, and I am pleased to find Ino herself minding the shop in a pale pink apron, and concentration focused on the booklet of names before her. I shoo away Madara with my hand, knowing that he won’t care for such prattle, he goes about as he does, examining the flowers as he pleases. Smelling each one in turn. I wait for Ino to finish watching and waiting for him to smell a rose so that I may commit to him a horrible pun that will reward me with a withered glare; with which I will reply once more at his withering glare wilting the flowers, and will in turn recive a sigh.

Unfortunately the time doesn’t present himself before Ino takes note of us in the shop and gives a startled little gasp from having not heard the bell, and distracting me the moment he reaches the roses. I curse at the missed opportunity.

“I’m so sorry Miss, I didn’t notice the bell ring, welcome to the shop, what can I do for you today?” She sweats a little, perhaps at her own distraction, or maybe it is her perception in dealing with a traditionally dressed woman that springs forth anxiety, commonly those in traditional kimonos are of high class so I can understand her twitching fingers twining together. I give her a smile in an attempt to ease her, warm as I can to show that my manner is not one of snoddy rich pristine.

“Hiya Ino! Don’t you recognize me?” She takes a moment, her face twisting a little in incomprehension. Then her eyes widen, and she lets free a shocked gasp.

“Naruto?!” Finally she exclaimed and a laugh as I nod. Her smile is wide, and her whole posture slumps in relief. “Oh jeez! You gave me a scare! I thought you were some rich snob! My father would kill me if I upset someone like that!” For that I scratch at the back of my head, I should have announced myself upon entering.

“Hehe, sorry about that.” She fixes her posture standing straight once more, and give me a good look over, finger on her chin.

“Your a woman.” She declares, but not with any hostile feeling, instead only curiosity, and I affair with a quick ‘yup’ in her direction. To which she blushes, and rubs at her neck, all while smiling in kind. “A-are you… um… genderfluid? I think thats the word right?” I am surprised she knew that, though she does look rather apprehensive in her wording, she must not know much other then a few gossip strands here and there. Again I confirm and her hands fly up, in what looks to be victory. “I knew it!” Still smiling, pleased, she regains herself a little further.

I have to laugh at her strange behaviour because it was just pleasant compared to so few people I have met. Although even in her victory she seems a bit nervous? I do not know exactly, her cheeks still hold a rosey almost red blush to them that I don’t understand in the wake of her self-proclaimed victory. “You must be here for the wedding arrangements right?” Though even if something is still rattled inside her, she seems genuinely excited at the prospect of putting together a wedding arrangement.

Following her own excitement its difficult not to feel a certain thill in myself, the fact that I am well and truly arranging my own wedding reception is a delightful one and I intend to hold the sensation for as long as I may. “What's your theme?” She asks brightly.

“Navy blue and pale yellow.” She hums to herself, closing her eyes tightly and tapping a single manicured nail against her chin in thought.

“That’s a lovely colour choice. But the flowers may need to be a little different, I suppose it depends on what type of look you want. But if you go with a really deep blue for the flowers any other decor will look diminished in comparison. Maybe we could swap it so that you have bright yellow and pale blue flowers?” I consider this, I don’t want everything to seem to soft which is what a lighter blue will do, but I also don’t want it to be an extremely bold affair either.

“Maybe to even it out we could add a third colour to the flowers? Like a white?” That would make it less bold, while also stopping it from becoming overly soft, two pale colours meeting against the dark blue would diminish the dark look created. “The tablecloths are going to be yellow, so it would fit.” Ino nods at this, her hear bobbing back and forth as a determined expression rests upon her.

“Yes! That will work perfectly! Maybe you should become a florist Naruto.” She jokes. “Anyway, now we just need to decide on the type, did you have anything in mind?” I don’t really know my flowers well. Though it doesn’t seem to faze Ino in the slightest. “Lets see… For the dark blue how about this?” She presents forth a plastic presentation of a cluster of flowers on the medium side and a beautiful navy in colour. I nod at this, they look perfect. “This is a Hydrangea..” It is exactly what I had in mind for the blue part of the equation. She rummages through a box behind the counter I cannot see, presumably filled with fake flowers to show customers. Next she pulls forth what look to be Roses, not what I expected, but they are lovely in comparison with the hydrangeas.

“These are a special type of pale yellow Roses, good?”  

“Perfect!” I smile, she beams putting the hydrangea and pale yellow roses together, they look wonderful in each others company. To my shock however, the next flower she brings forth is not a subtle white, but instead a bright yellow sunflower. She grabs the other ones she has already selected and puts them with the sunflower. Oh, that is a wonderful look! I love it! Her blue eyes rest on me and I slam my hands down. “Amazing Ino!” I chime, and her tense shoulders loosen, I suppose it was a bit of a whim on her part.

 The village is full with people, no one stopping or slowing down, questing in everyday life. Because of shinobi upbringing, training and all, I find it almost to busy even if it is nothing but normal rutine. Still its pleasant out, for the end of the season at least, a little bit of a bite to the wind that grabs at the ankles. The wind rustling through the trees can’t be heard here, to much construction about, civilians building some new homes, and people arguing about nothing.

A few younger men, who I happen to know from the academy are smoking in the corner, they aren’t shinobi, quit after the exams, not that I can blame them. Though back in the day they weren’t very good people, from what I understand they still aren’t. One of them, the side man of the leader a blond with slanted brown eyes gives me a strange look. He then proceeds to wolf-whistle me. Contempt raises in my stomach, and I look as far away from him as possible. It's a pretty common occurrence in Konoha, but I had never expected it to happen to me, ever. A cat call gets thrown out now in a mixture of whisling and perverted slurs. To me, it really feels like it always has so as soon as I focus on that thought I can ignore them, in pretending they are speaking in mocking and jibes at my humanity.

Just because I can I raise my chin up and make myself as impervious as possible to their calls. My kimono makes me feel dignified, noble almost, as if I’m someone of importance, its a feeling I could get used to if I’m honest. Even the traditional and really very old-fashioned style is like a weight on my head speaking in my ear that I can ignore them because they are the worse party. The obi around my waist is lavish, and I can pretend it comes from my favourite seamstress in the household.

For the first time, perhaps, in my life, I feel safe on the streets of Konoha, and thats not just because of the man standing hauntingly behind me, but because I feel confident in my clothes. As if my aspiration to become Hokage is more then just a fantasy. Now I am walking forth, forward, to prepare my wedding and I couldn’t feel anymore joyful, anymore in control of my own life. If the council decides to make trouble for this one moment of serenity I have achieved I’ll put them down to size for once.

I soar a little, perhaps in a bit of an exaggerated manner, at the welcome understanding that his tread has changed. He no longer walks around the water in worried demeanor, but walks through it with a heavy stride. Many would claim this a horrid approach for a shinobi, but this is not a matter of skill. He has regained himself, in confidence, in trust, and dignity, and I like to consider, that even maybe slightly I had aided in that mental and emotional recovery. Any thought in that likeness has me grinning like a mad woman, possessed indeed by Kyuubi’s influence, but only in my self-confidence do I relish.

Am I a man? Am I a woman? What does it matter to me. I lay within my own consciousness as alive, and for myself as a trained man of combat, I consider that to be achievement in itself, simplistic view or not. I am alive and I am human. Though the presentation of a woman grants me safety from the bounds of discovery, as a man I am known to those I cherish. How could I possibly decide between those options? So I will not. Although Madara seems disapplication of the calls I receive merely in walking. Not unexpected due to my traditional dress and hair, I am unusual which makes me interesting, which in turn either makes me strange or appealing.

I do not lessen my stride as I take my fiancee’s hand into my own, proceeding as dignified as I can to my destinations, only a few.

Surely Ino will not mind my change, nor Chouji from what I know of him. I doubt Iruka will much care if I am man or woman, he has made clear to me his feelings towards me in good faith I trust the man with my very life. Kakashi, perhaps is the largest risk, but even he could be considered of liberal mind and will not ask further then perhaps a single shocked look and a perverted smile. I refuse to worry about perception any longer.

Yamanaka first, I decide. Flowers have been put off to long already, and they will likely need to order in advance as it is. The shop entranceway bell greets us, and I am pleased to find Ino herself minding the shop in a pale pink apron, and concentration focused on the booklet of names before her. I shoo away Madara with my hand, knowing that he won’t care for such prattle, he goes about as he does, examining the flowers as he pleases. Smelling each one in turn. I wait for Ino to finish watching and waiting for him to smell a rose so that I may commit to him a horrible pun that will reward me with a withered glare; with which I will reply once more at his withering glare wilting the flowers, and will in turn recive a sigh.

Unfortunately the time doesn’t present himself before Ino takes note of us in the shop and gives a startled little gasp from having not heard the bell, and distracting me the moment he reaches the roses. I curse at the missed opportunity.

“I’m so sorry Miss, I didn’t notice the bell ring, welcome to the shop, what can I do for you today?” She sweats a little, perhaps at her own distraction, or maybe it is her perception in dealing with a traditionally dressed woman that springs forth anxiety, commonly those in traditional kimonos are of high class so I can understand her twitching fingers twining together. I give her a smile in an attempt to ease her, warm as I can to show that my manner is not one of snoddy rich pristine.

“Hiya Ino! Don’t you recognize me?” She takes a moment, her face twisting a little in incomprehension. Then her eyes widen, and she lets free a shocked gasp.

“Naruto?!” Finally she exclaimed and a laugh as I nod. Her smile is wide, and her whole posture slumps in relief. “Oh jeez! You gave me a scare! I thought you were some rich snob! My father would kill me if I upset someone like that!” For that I scratch at the back of my head, I should have announced myself upon entering.

“Hehe, sorry about that.” She fixes her posture standing straight once more, and give me a good look over, finger on her chin.

“Your a woman.” She declares, but not with any hostile feeling, instead only curiosity, and I affair with a quick ‘yup’ in her direction. To which she blushes, and rubs at her neck, all while smiling in kind. “A-are you… um… genderfluid? I think thats the word right?” I am surprised she knew that, though she does look rather apprehensive in her wording, she must not know much other then a few gossip strands here and there. Again I confirm and her hands fly up, in what looks to be victory. “I knew it!” Still smiling, pleased, she regains herself a little further.

I have to laugh at her strange behaviour because it was just pleasant compared to so few people I have met. Although even in her victory she seems a bit nervous? I do not know exactly, her cheeks still hold a rosey almost red blush to them that I don’t understand in the wake of her self-proclaimed victory. “You must be here for the wedding arrangements right?” Though even if something is still rattled inside her, she seems genuinely excited at the prospect of putting together a wedding arrangement.

Following her own excitement its difficult not to feel a certain thrill in myself, the fact that I am well and truly arranging my own wedding reception is a delightful one and I intend to hold the sensation for as long as I may. “What's your theme?” She asks brightly.

“Navy blue and pale yellow.” She hums to herself, closing her eyes tightly and tapping a single manicured nail against her chin in thought.

“That’s a lovely colour choice. But the flowers may need to be a little different, I suppose it depends on what type of look you want. But if you go with a really deep blue for the flowers any other decor will look diminished in comparison. Maybe we could swap it so that you have bright yellow and pale blue flowers?” I consider this, I don’t want everything to seem to soft which is what a lighter blue will do, but I also don’t want it to be an extremely bold affair either.

“Maybe to even it out we could add a third colour to the flowers? Like a white?” That would make it less bold, while also stopping it from becoming overly soft, two pale colours meeting against the dark blue would diminish the dark look created. “The tablecloths are going to be yellow, so it would fit.” Ino nods at this, her hear bobbing back and forth as a determined expression rests upon her.

“Yes! That will work perfectly! Maybe you should become a florist Naruto.” She jokes. “Anyway, now we just need to decide on the type, did you have anything in mind?” I don’t really know my flowers well. Though it doesn’t seem to faze Ino in the slightest. “Lets see… For the dark blue how about this?” She presents forth a plastic presentation of a cluster of flowers on the medium side and a beautiful navy in colour. I nod at this, they look perfect. “This is a Hydrangea..” It is exactly what I had in mind for the blue part of the equation. She rummages through a box behind the counter I cannot see, presumably filled with fake flowers to show customers. Next she pulls forth what look to be Roses, not what I expected, but they are lovely in comparison with the hydrangeas.

“These are a special type of pale yellow Roses, good?”  

“Perfect!” I smile, she beams putting the hydrangea and pale yellow roses together, they look wonderful in each others company. To my shock however, the next flower she brings forth is not a subtle white, but instead a bright yellow sunflower. She grabs the other ones she has already selected and puts them with the sunflower. Oh, that is a wonderful look! I love it! Her blue eyes rest on me and I slam my hands down. “Amazing Ino!” I chime, and her tense shoulders loosen, I suppose it was a bit of a whim on her part.

I carelessly gesture for Madara to join us, although he didn’t seem to be far off, as I hit him in the chest while doing so. I don’t particularly care, to enthralled with the flowers she put on the counter.

“Look Tajima aren’t they wonderful!” He doesn’t really get the chance to respond. As I am to busy talking. “Ino, these are perfect! We’ll need at least two dozen bocques for the reception hall as centerpieces! Think you can do that?”

“Of course!” She glances at Madara behind me, and I think I see her wink for a moment, before I’m hugging her fiercely. She returns it equally as excited as I am it seems. To wonderful a friend is Ino. I wish Sakura could be similar in her understanding. Perhaps I allow for Madara to spoil me a little too freely, but when one is blessed with nothing from birth they need little and welcome much. I think that is why he does it if I am completely honest with myself, though I want not to think of it as pity or charity. Simply the generosity of the man I love, for surely that cannot be wrong.

The bell chimes over the door, and the next person I needed to see walks through the door seemingly with a gift for Ino. “Chouji!” My voice is a little loud in the small space, and the poor man gazes wide eyed at me for a moment before coming to a conclusion and smiling at me good-naturedly. Very much his ever kind self. “I was just going to come see you!” He places the bag on the counter and Ino gives him a pat on the shoulder in thanks. “I was wondering if I could ask for your Mother to do the cooking for my wedding reception?” My eyes may have begged a little.

“She will be paid of course.” Madara adds behind me what I hadn’t thought to say, because really wasn’t that obvious? Chouji grants me a full grin.

“Ah! She’d be delighted Naruto! Payment or not!” The Akimichi Matriarch has always liked me, but I don’t think she would go that far. That is a lot of people to prepare for, and a lot of food to buy, she can’t go without payment. His small eyes look to Madara and he bows, actually properly bows in respect. I’m slightly shocked at the thought. But Chouji has always been respectful of the elderly, so I guess it isn’t much of a stretch for him to bow to my fiancee, still it is strange to my eyes.

“No, no! I have to pay her, that’s a large expensive and it is a service.” Chouji only shakes his head, but says nothing further still smiling lightly.

“I’ll tell her Naruto don’t worry, just how many guests?” He asks. I think for a moment, it can’t be many, I don’t have much family to consider, but I do have quite a few friends scattered throughout the lands. Madara doesn’t really have anyone to invite either…

“Twenty-five to fifty people, not many more then that I don’t think.” Its a good margin for error in any case, besides, one should always have extras at weddings. Thought for some reason there's a mellow sadness in the room after I say it. I didn’t think I had said anything offensive, so why is there such a gloomy atmosphere?

Ino answers for me, eyes waverying, actually they’re swimming a little in unshed tears, I feel alarm creep through me. “That’s just… A very small gathering. Normally there's at least a hundred people at something like this.” I suppose she would know being a florist and all. The solemn mood makes sense now, though I’m flattered its unnecessary.

“Hey, no need to feel sad for me! This is my wedding remember! Its supposed to be the happiest day of my life, I intend to make it so, large crowd or not!” I grin at them both, and it seems to elevate them, and they smile right back although more subdued. “Ah that reminds me I haven’t gotten my compliment yet!” That has me running out the door, and I hear Madara’s steps behind me along with cheerful goodbyes from my friends.

Really this particular role can only be filled by three people, and two of them haven’t even met Madara yet! Iruka, Kakashi, and Jiraiya, I want to be in special positions, Iruka especially. I slow waiting for my man to catch up, he’s very important in this after all. Iruka has to approve of him, he just has too! The thought of him declining him is painful, and though I would proceed to marriage anyway it wouldn’t be the same without Iruka there to cry as I entangle my life with the man I love. At least I can gain comfort in the fact that Iruka won’t mind my sexuality having held a long standing crush on someone himself, although he denies it, the obviousness of their affection is hardly lost on anyone. Even Tsunade pointed it out to me once!

My thoughts are nervous ones, so Madara in catching up to me is subjected to a fast paced explanation and instruction. For his part, he does seem rather accustomed to it by now: “Okay so, we’re gonna go see Iruka who is like my Father but he isn’t biologically, and its really important you get along with him, but be careful as well because he’s hot headed kinda like me but worse, but not me-”

My words kind of blur together as we reach the academy where the school day is just on break. I don’t remember what I said in panic. Though Madara doesn’t seem perturbed so it cant have been that bad, or insane sounding. He opens the door for me as we enter the academy, not bashful in the slightest, a nice change from how he had perceived my intent in the beginning. In entering the main hallway Iruka walks towards us with a hefty stack of papers, talking to himself and attempting to arrange them while walking -unsuccessfully. He stops mere centimeters away from me, probably having seen my legs in front of his eyes.

Papers flying into my face as he jumps is not what I expected. They flutter to the floor uselessly, and Iruka stares forward like a man being scolded. “I’m so sorry Ma’am! I wasn’t looking where I was going and-” I smile, and help him pick up the papers, he seems to calm a little as I do so, I know him well enough to understand his shock and panic. Iruka is a man raised wary of what other people see or hear, the wrong move the wrong action can have devastating consequences, in his mind. I can’t say I completely disagree. I put the pile I gathered back into his hands and am given a nervous smile in response. “Thank you.”

I might’ve giggled at his obliviousness to who I am. I suppose he never expected to see me like this outside of a prank. “Don’t worry about it Iruka-sensei!” Taking away from my own rather poised demeanor, I rest my hands behind my head in the relaxed position I always used to adopt. His eyes blow wide, and he stutters for words to say.

I think it best to speak first, to avoid misunderstanding. “The simple explanation is that I consider myself both Naruto and Naruko.” Easy for those who know me to understand without elaborate detailing. Lazy but effective. For his part my father figure stutters for a moment before nodding along with a slight amused snort escaping his nose.

“I suppose I can’t be shocked considering-” Now he looks behind only just seeing Madara standing proud behind me, I can only contribute his posturing to the fact that I am not a man currently. The obvious sexism would annoy me if it didn’t make so much sense. I doubt he could see any fault in it either.

Gently I pat at the chest behind me. Opening my mouth to explain, I don’t get the chance to before my mouth closes again on protective impulse as a classroom door opens and caution airs me to stay quiet. However, the silver head of my Jouin instructor emerges and I’m held in a mild state of shock, filtering on and off between speculation and realism. “Hm, Naruto-chan what's the occasion?” Insult aside -put it aside- I had been intent on going to see Kakashi after meeting with Iruka, this saves me time. No doubt in my mind that someone had been following my old sensei around like a dog waiting for attention. Confirmed by the fact that before me a tick rests on Iruka’s forehead in irritation. Still as much as he is unwelcoming of the perverted copy-nin, I do need to speak to him, so I ignore Iruka’s comfort for the sake of time.

“Kakashi-sensei! Greet! I can speak to both of you at once!” They both gaze expected at this, ignoring the unfinished spat they had no doubt held before my arrival. “I wanted to ask a favour of the two of you.” Technically, it is, although in more conservative circles it is considered an honour. “Iruka-sensei, I was hoping you could join me in the Shinto ceremony as Representative Father? Tsunade will be Representative Mother.” Maybe its the nerves that has me speaking fastly, but once done, I await their response with a tightly closed mouth and sweat on my brow.

“Shinto ceremony huh?” Kakashi says decisively while Iruka chokes on air.

“Y-you! Y-your getting married?!”

“Yup!” He is not as enthusiastic as I am, and seems to be in a state of utter confusion, glancing at the ground, then the wall then his papers like they will answer him in my stead. Baffled. Kakashi however, smiles in his usual creepy way. Though he does seem genuinely happy for me, in his own creepy way. His eye opens again, and as ever I cannot tell what he is thinking or feeling.

“Say, isn’t a Shinto ceremony rather old-fashioned for someone as young as yourself?”

“I recent that! Besides, my fiancee is old school!” I can feel him roll his eyes at me from that statement, he’s never liked me speaking of him as if he isn’t right beside me. Though he does place a hand on my shoulder in a form of assurance, I grip his hand in mine. Iruka’s eyes flicker forth and rest on us, Kakashi is wide eyed staring at us, a moment of silence.

“Ah. This is your fiancee I take it.” There was no question, instead only resolution, and a well fitted smile crafted onto his face. However, father figure Iruka quakes a little, not sure of what he should think. I flinch at his stricken expression, plumbing doubt and comprehension springing up in me in ways I haven’t felt since I was a child. The same expression he used to stare at me with, contempt and embittered anger ripe with age and clouded with resentment. My footsteps back on instinct at the sensation cascading over me. Drawing myself into Madara’s space more, and in response he seems to sense my nerves, pulling himself taught threateningly, but not with intent. Quaking my mind tries to assure me that I am only seeing shadows, that there is no bases for needless rationalizations that hold no true reasoning.

Lastly my eyes go downward, its protection. Primal instinct after years of subservience to those who would do me harm at so much as a look in their direction. I used to feel the need to do so regularly, I haven’t done it in years. Confidence had bloomed in age and maturity, now it seems I am still frightened of rejection, yet no less convicted to my goals. A stronger hand then the one presently on my shoulder grips my arm lightly, and in looking forward I meet brown eyes, and a nervous hesitance with guilt misting over him.

“Sorry Naruto, I was just surprised is all. I would be honoured to be your Father in the ceremony.” Relief sweeps over me like I had felt nothing in previous, and I jump to him, holding his rather lanky frame as close as I can. Beasts painfully pressed, I know well enough of Madara’s positioning on propriety to consider the fact that to him it may appear a slight bit scandalous. His views on women are weak, though he would allow them in battle he believed in the law that a woman should only touch -in intimacy, her husband. Typically speaking it was about as sexist as he got, however, being in female form should help me understand his pointed views slightly better. At least he tries not to let it affect him, and is more then civil with those of independence nowadays, there are moments where his upbringing shows itself.

I glance at him as I draw back, he is shifting himself in discomfort. Seems I overdid it a little, I will have to get used to it. Not that I will change myself for him of course, but that I will need to be careful with how I dictate myself as a woman around him. Of course he shouldn’t expect me to stay away from a fight, or speak for myself, but there are little things I can comply too in order to make him more comfortable with this less misogynistic time. All a balancing act with someone of his unique stature. Indeed one has to consider that opening the door, escorting, and such were seen in his time as very respectful of a woman, I cannot begrudge him for trying his best to understand these new views.

Chapter Text

The day started early. I'd had to run about the place, there had been nothing necessary but it had been a trip to the market before my dear fiance had woken, merely because it was far easier then having the man follow me about. I'd fully expected to be received by a glare and a stiff set posture of a determined ignorance. No one sat at the table however, there was not even a cup of tea nor a kettle on the stove. This irked me only slightly, it was a rare occurrence when Madara took to resting late. Not impossible or strange but rare nonetheless. Still just to show caution -unlike commodity- I opened the door to the porch, checking that the founder wasn't sitting and staring at his former lover. It remained blank only with splashings of my plants -that needed water-, leaving left the small adjoined bedroom. There I could spot easily the bed clearly containing a person, and I smiled a little to myself at my own worrying.

Whenever Madara decided to sleep in, he could battle a rock for the title of alertness, which was why it hardly ever happened. Knowing this, I crawled on the small bed and shook at the man, beginning first gently, I don't like being held to kunai point for being reckless with a veteran. Of course, the man was a stubborn one, so I soon found myself shaking a little harsher then I'd normally need to. Still, he wasn't moving.

Naturally, I smacked his shoulder just lightly. That gained nothing, not even a hitch of breath. My own heart started to feel confined as implication settled in. Relying on my training I leaned down and held a hand against the mans lips to feel the hot breath that tickled my neck, in moments of sentimentality. There was nothing, no warmth, no tickle.

I clamped down on the scream I felt raising, tearing up my insides instinct kicking in fiercely, the panic rising stopped me from running about doing nothing useful, and I checked his pulse with as gentle fingers as I could into the wrist below me, biting back the seeping need to throw my head back. There was nothing, no pulse, his heart had given out. This was making a burning itch up to my throat. Climbing through me in a scream, because I couldn't withhold it, I didn't know what to do. I shrieked something awful with a convention I hadn't held in years. Something crackled beneath my throat and pain struck down as pressure. I couldn't grasp air, there was no room in my lungs from the pressure mounting across my insides. I knew that the room wasn't spinning that my eyes were screwing about with the blur of water, and maybe light headed hallucination from suffocation; I couldn't see anything particularly well. It was anger and sorrow I know nothing could stop what was rising. though there was no proof of a concept so ridiculous my mind had already latched onto the thought. It manifested so quickly he could not stop it shrieking ugly.

The anger made a want for blood while at the same moment a need to collapse into whatever remained afterward. That wasn't what occurred, my legs snapped upwards and I run to the outdoors, with a conviction I daren't understand. My voice began for me, words I couldn't hear, were angry blasphemous, damning, perhaps the remnants of sanity escaping Whatever worked now, care had left, as the pressure built and the closed space began to crush.

I was yelling, screaming with unflattering tears and face redder than skin burnt. Voice cracking and breaking at every syllable. "YOU! Won't take him from me! Don't you fucking dare! Don't try! He's mine Hashirama! Give him back! Give him back! Give him back." For whatever fuse that had been lit, it fled just as quick as a mere spark, and my body fell, sickeningly hard that couldn't be felt. Crumpled down sobbing with hardly any breath taken.

Knees aching from their opposing directions, hands itching from the sting of dyed and fresh tears, stomach heaving, lungs gasping, skin burning, abdomen burning. The anger felt previously was gone but replacing it was a sadness I could hardly comprehend and it mounted ever further with increasing intensity. As a hand gripped my throat the pain became unbearable, burning, scorching, ailing.

My body slouched further over and the concrete of the porch became much easier a sight.

Though it wouldn't' long, the blackness was obscuring everything in grey and muted green, oil like as water splashed on my knees and the smell of damp fur was all there was. My breath returned to me, I wished it gone once more, everything I felt was heavy, slouching down with a drag of gravity that most fought against. As I'd known, Kyuubi had stopped me from dying by my own violation, now having summoned me with a large growl turning the oil into shards that almost cut, and rising with waves that bashed me into the solid ground. He was looking at me, no grin in place showcasing his own evil intent, only a vile malice in his eyes. My eyes blurred and I couldn't look at him properly.

His head struck the bars, but he didn't look intent to get out. Instead, he lay behind them contently and rested his head on his paws, observing me. I wanted to glare, I did, but nothing but numb came to me fluidly. Finally, the beast closed his eye and muttered something, saying the first words that had been uttered since I was dragged into my own mental hell. "I could heal your mate." A jolt soar through me, that was probably true, he'd healed me enough times for me to believe in his ability and skill in such a delicate work. My mind made me want to tell him to do it damning the reasoning and consequences, but I couldn't do that if it meant his freedom in return.

I knew of their history as it was. There was no doubt I could conjure that Kyuubi was not fooled with a fake name and different appearance, he had to be aware that this was Madara. "What do you want?" It could have sounded braver, but I had no energy to force myself to feel anything other then the grief weaving itself into my soul. Kyuubi must be aware.

His grin became pronounced, malevolent, all canines, eyes glinting with what could only be glee. "Madara is a disgusting human, I wouldn't eat his flesh were I starved. You and I are intertwined, you have the same mating instinct as any bijuu. You need to save him don't you Naruto…?" It left shivers his voice rattling about in the space. The way he knew my mind, everything lay bare for him to exploit. If possible he smiled, grinned, smirked, larger then previous. "Loosen the seal and I will." Of course, he asked for his freedom, and the feeling of dread was already keeping upon me.

I didn't want to decline. "No, I'm not freeing you." Again my voice cracked breathlessly.

A snort sounded, undoubtedly sending mucous through the air. Grin went, the demon rested his eyes once more. "Idiot. With Madara alive, I couldn't go to eat anyway. I'm not asking for my freedom at this point." That was true, wasn't it?

"Then what will undoing the seal do for you?" An uproarious laugh resonated off the walls, and I felt myself being jerked back hitting onto one of the rocks now about. From the liquid raising around me I saw the seal unwind just slightly, but before I could try to reach it, whiteness blinded me.

My body ached as I got up from where I had fallen, my knees were thudding in pain, and my back didn't feel like it could move an inch. Whatever Kyuubi had wanted it was too late to stop if that laughter had been any indication.

"Naruto." My heart jumped, and I think my feet worked faster then my brain as I faced Madara standing there and staring at me, glaring just slightly from the sun in his eyes. I hit his chest so had that I probably would have knocked him over if I wasn't very conscious of the fact that he had just died. His chest felt heavenly against my cheek, his arms weren't muscled, not really, but they felt slightly different then normal, that said his body felt different. I reeled back, hoping for the life of me that the demon hadn't made something like Orochimaru and his experiments of immortality.

No, it was my Madara. Yet it wasn't. There were streaks of black in his hair, fewer lines around his mouth, though his eyes were still fierce and angry appearing. His body was a little more bulking, he looked younger. What Kyuubi had done hadn't merely brought him back it made him more youthful. Now instead of appearing near eighty, he looked to be a spry man in his late fifties. Handsome and rugged, experienced yet slightly too old for most woman.

My joy overwhelmed whatever side of care I had festered, and I kissed him as hard as I could. Catching him off guard, but he responded with a hand in my hair. I knew it wouldn't last, but he was refined as usual, which only made me feel comforted. It really was Madara. I was not normally humored by the man like this, but I suppose some of my continued unease must have shown because he was frowning and studying me with apprehension. To even have his eyes on me for the moment made something flutter in my heart, the same way it had at the beginning of our relationship.

That didn't make it any less odd that he was far younger then he had been last night or the day previous. Still, I wanted him, as I ever do, his touch and feel like a lover as a partner is what my heart cries for. The damn demon must've found that feeling and used it to their advantage, exploiting Madara as my own necessity to hold a position of power.

His eyes are clearer, his retinas weren't burning out as Itachi's because he had solved the issue, but as age wares us all they had become more grey then crisp black. Although they were actually black with a ring of deep blue now that some of his vitality had returned, I couldn't stop smiling up at him like an idiot. So I suppose it shouldn't have been so insulting when he glared down at me. "Why were you crying?" I didn't answer him, his voice was not nearly as gruff and it was strange, but not unwelcome, I wondered if I was a grave-robber before, paying on an old man. Now, nothing could stop me from kissing him, he made to remove himself, but I couldn't let him leave now, not with all that I'd just gone through, his lips were less chapped, no less the ones that molded against my own. He gave to me and kissed back finally cupping my cheeks and pulling me into his kiss, I wonder if he noticed he dropped his scythe.

Maybe it was a perversion on my end as I've wanted to have sex with him for so long, but was denied with a skeptic brow and a shake of the head. His libido was not something active at his age. Now though I felt the forming of an erection as I cupped him, he startled out of the kiss. He was so confused, I doubted he knew what had happened, that was not my priority at the time. A gasp left him, and he pulled my wrist away, this was just an irritating experience. I had a strong want for him, and even now when he was capable there was nothing but a reluctance.

He breathed something deep and took my hand in his own, putting it back where it had been. Hissing as I touched at the clothed erection. "I suppose we must make the most of this situation." I withhold the snort at that statement, he must have not gotten laid in over a dozen decades and more. He certainly needed a release, and this was something I had only done twice before now. I had needs too. I brought him to the bed.

He was sleeping once more I'd worn out what durability he had, but my legs were sticking together and I felt so many aches and sores that it made me smile. I'd wanted this intimacy with him for so long now, having it, at last, was a miracle in itself, and I almost wished to thank the giant furball. Feeling particularly nothing, I wore a white and black striped yakuza to make an early dinner as the man of my life slept on peacefully, safe from death. My lower body felt gross, horrid in the air, but I set everything to cook before taking a shower.

After having done that I slipped on the yakuza once more. Then set the table, my hair dripped on some of the plates. I giggled at it, I was probably euphoric. The door rang, the time was five to six, and I couldn't imagine who would be coming to me at this hour. Still, I settled the teapot and went to receive them, hoping that Madara would wake soon so his tea didn't cool to much, he hated that.

I was met uncomfortable, with the sight of two straight-set ANBU along with Koharu and Homura, sternly glaring at me. Nothing well could come from this, I sighed, all happiness I had felt previously fleeing, and I declined to let them into my home closing the door behind me as I exited instead. Should Madara meet the two conspirators for my horrid reputation have access to the man I love I fear that they would persuade him away from me. Of course, this angered their glares, and I knew I was already within their bad graces so it wasn't as if I had much to tarnish.

We stood off against each other as I refused to acknowledge any sort of respect or regard for their age and position, and they awaited some sort of address. "Uzumaki." Finally, Homura started, negating me any honorific as was expected. "There has been a rumor that you are engaged to an Uchiha." He waited, as did his comrade when I declined to answer their question the man gave a heavy sigh already becoming irate at my attitude towards him as I refused to kiss his ass as he so wanted. "We must confirm this, so you will step aside." That was a demand in his tone. Naturally, in a hidden village there was no need for a warrant as was mandatory in a citizen-based village or town. However, it was only unnecessary for active shinobi, jouin shinobi. The courtesy was not given automatically to ANBU unless the recipient was a civilian.

My body continued to block the door as I completely ignored their words. Angering them and the special forces behind them. "No, it is not your concern who I marry." It wasn't. Though I knew they wouldn't see it as I did, or as simple morality would dictate.

"What if this man is actually Itachi or Sasuke in a henge Uzumaki?" I wanted so badly to punch them.

"How negligent do you think I am?" Insulting Sasuke too. They certainly were attempting to get under my skin, perhaps it was their way of coercion Perhaps it had always worked before. As far as my mentality, maturity and understanding have arisen I greatly doubt their ability to force themselves into a place of influence within my personal life.

This they seem to realize, for they switch to a different method after having regained themselves. "If this man is indeed an Uchiha then we have an obligation to have him paired with a woman he can procreate with for the good of the village." Honestly, that argument should have been expected, it was after all a common thing to force a marriage, the council had done it numerous times for the prominent clans. Yet, I had great doubt Madara would be able to fertilize a woman, nevermind lay with one in bed, or tolerate her presence more then a few minutes at a time. I was exceptionally lucky he had not left my advances to frazzle away as a soft drink. Now I was blessed to hold him as my own, and he would not regail another, I know this. He was intolerant of Konoha's standards at the moment as it were, regardless of his love for the village's foundation.

Maybe they were anticipating a rage or tantrum, tears or blubbering, maybe they had hoped for a futile begging. Because they seemed so shocked by my own mild-mannered answer, dealing with the council for as long as I have, one learns not to play it anything but frigid. "You could, but seen as he is-" I almost say over eighty, but in regard to his appearance that hardly seems correct: "Over forty he wouldn't be able to grant a woman a child easily, or at all." That seemed to disturb Koharu slightly, her eyes finally opening to the point where they can be seen.

Still, Homura speaks in her stead: "there are methods to fix infertility." My hand twitches beside me, and I feel the beginnings of anger forming, but that won't work on them. Not by a long shot. I have to think fast, it is not much for me to use to convince them not to take him away, and although I am panicking my heart beating so quick that the thump sounds as a war drum, I know there is a solution.

"Then I'll give you an Uchiha through my own blood. I can, after all, change my sex at will through Kyuubi no Yoko, as I'm sure you're aware." All Jinchuuriki could, most refrain, but we were very capable of doing so, Utakata had done so on occasion by admittance unto me. The elders were bound to know through their own experience with previous carriers. When I shifted into Naruko I shifted my organs as well, it was after all plain fact that the Bijuu were multi-sexed creatures.

Naturally, they were appalled by this suggestion, as I had expected them to be. Fully outraged now by my curt nature and blaze exception unto the rules of the society they hold to sacred blessing. I can say for certain that I couldn't care less of their need for normalcy, as they tried to remove the one I love from me. "Unacceptable! The Jinchuuriki seal grows weak during birth!" Finally having had enough I growl at them, but I have said my piece and they cannot form a coherent argument against it.

"Then have Jiraiya return to the village when the time comes if it comes at all! I don't care! You cannot take him from me now, so get away from my apartment, and leave me and my future-anata alone!" They reel away and it gives me satisfaction to watch them in slumping posture, especially as I slam the door in their irritated faces.

I lean against the door, dealing with the council always has me irate, moreso now as they were targeting not me but the man I love. There's no doubt that they'll return to check that Madara is indeed an Uchiha once they remember they've forgotten in the midst of arguing with me. Still, that day is not today, and even if it is, there a very concrete evidence. My eyes land on the man calmly sitting at the table sipping his tea, and I feel a smile creep up on me casting away any anger remaining.

Joining him at the table and leaning my head against his shoulder for a solid comfort I can rely on. "Naruto," I look to him, even though he is gazing at his tea. "Why do I appear to be in my mid-fifties?" I hadn't thought of an excuse yet, I did think I'd have a few more minutes -baring interruption- to come up with a suitable explanation that won't have him riled.

"You were sick… I panicked so I ended up using some of Kyuubi's chakra to heal you." There, that wasn't a complete lie, luckily, I wished to never have to lie to him. But if he knew what I'd given he'd be so angry.

"Used- You should know better then to rely on that beast for your needs, being healed by that Senju woman would have been preferable." He wasn't happy by my negligence, but he didn't seem angered, just frustrated that I was so incautious, and I could deal with that without a qualm.

"I'm not going to apologize. I almost lost you." 'And I'll deal with any consequences that allow me to keep you here.'

"How noble of you, ready yourself gaki, I'm far worse then Shukaku ever was." It came as a deep yell direct into my head and rumbling.

I'd let him into my mind.

I hide into Madara's neck, if he notices how odd it is, I don't pay attention to it. A turning burn on my abdomen has me distracted.

Chapter Text

I thought it to be nothing drastic. A simple difference in pressure when he held me or visa-versa. Something almost pleasant against my cheek, even while I was used to the softness of his chest rather then hardwon muscle. No thought was brought to my conscious on how Madara would have found everything. Despite it being his body.

Nothing negative occured, he hadn't developed a type of repulsion to himself or me. Only a small change in his mannerisms, most of our life was largely unaffected, our routine for example, did not shift or change. Night-time was a bit bothersome for me in particular, though I'm certain my fiancé found the entire continual argument tiring and unnecessary. His medical tea would remain untouched in the middle of the table during the day, and while for the first few days I had thought it merely accidental. Evidence pointed to him purposefully not taking it.

Something that had never been an issue before with him, suddenly had, and his stubborn prideful side made itself troublesome. I held the side that merely because he was a little younger that did not take from the fact he was still not a young man. He was adamant that I was wrong. Refusing the healing as it was 'ridiculously overcautious.’ Bringing my raging temper into the mix in tandem with his prideful self.

Other then his newfound issue with his medication, there were no other problems that I hadn't found myself anticipating. He would go training more frequently, and was in the process of attempting to convince me that he could handle a simple b-class mission.

-I remain unmoved.-

Although in that vain, I will admit, his ability to flatter and conjol me is rather impressive, I have almost begun to cave to one mission. Only with conditions or course.

On the positive side, his newfound youth has made my life quite a bit more pleasurable. When we can both manage it, there's a lot of wrestling in the sheets. Its extremely satisfying even if I hadn't cared about sex before hand, it's like an additive bonus now.

Occasionally he will glimpse at his hand with a face I'd never before seen him make. Somewhere between befuddlement and incomprehension, honestly I have to keep my giggles at bay whenever he does that, he'd never liked it when I laughed behind him.

Today I'd made an omelet for breakfast with steamed kale and egg whites, he seemed quite pleased with it as he'd actually given me a full blown smile. Needless to say I had almost dropped my drink in surprise. I hadn't known before today that his eyes closed when he gave anything more then a small smile. Maybe that's why he avoided it so carefully.

Now however, he'd insisted on going out, and I couldn't deny him, it was such a rare thing for him to want to look around.

It was as nice a day as possible for an exertion, and I found him to be glancing about, far more energetic then normal. His face blank to any onlooker with the exception of myself viewing him. We were walking as we usually did in our little paradise town so long ago, arm in arm, held closely to each other's side. I suppose I could fool myself into thinking Konoha was kind.

That is until a harsh banging sensation pressed onto the back of my head, the base of my spine, another landing underneath my knee. One more stone hitting where the first had causing a sting rather then pressure. “Ow!” Perceptive, as always Madara took note of my declaration. All hope of him avoiding the situation was tarnished; his temper was far worse then mine. Understand, regardless of my distaste unto them I have no want for anything unpleasant to befall the villagers..

Obviously he saw an oncoming stone, a shallow smacking sound seemed to echo behind me as he caught it. Examining it with a visage pertaining only to that of someone extensively irate. Brows furrowed as his gaze met mine and I had to fight not to turn my eyes to look at the suddenly appealing ground. I was more then aware of the facts surrounding me, he was displeased, moreover, confused. Explaining that throwing stones unto the demon was common in Konoha, well it would be a hassle, and not something I wanted to do at all. His hand dropped the stone, I ended up watching it hit the ground, merely as an excuse to stray my eyes away from his.

Is it cowardly not to want a confrontation? All I want now is merely him and I to go out for some soothing sake, share some idle chatter in our little town far from Konoha. Life seemed to be a reckoning for me. The stone had left dirt on his palm, but I grasped it anyway, knowing what would happen next if we remained. Something I will avidly stop him from experiencing or dealing with, ever, should I have my say.

He has no need to see further ugliness, especially that which remained as part of my presence in my own Village.

Although fate ended up twisting before me in a cruel dance. For while I had managed to move him along despite the plethora of congealing questions in his eyes, there blocking the path in front of us stood two distinct figures. Neither of whom I could deal with in pleasant conduct anymore. I suppose my illease had been noticed with abandon, as in his strange comforting manner, my arm was suddenly locked with Madara’s in -what I can only assume as- response. It made everything within me want to stick to him in a type of childish giddy feeling of dependence. However, I couldn’t and I knew it due to the company we would soon have, along with his pride -and some of my own. That, and his muscles were tensed in such a way; he seemed to be preparing for battle.

“Uzumaki.” My own followed Madara’s at the greeting, I’d been stupid enough in my overwhelming comfort of him that I’d forgotten why I was being comforted at all. The elders before both of us made me want to scream and run past them, or merely throw some stupid prank and hope they’d be absent minded enough to lose sight of why they were tormenting me this time. Perhaps with the strength beside me I forwent my caution. All respectful inclination I may have presented previously completely absent.

“What do you want now?” Immediately followed by:

“Mind your tone!” From the pair, so stern at my disrespect, even if they had done nothing to earn it. Before I could retort with anything truly affronting Madara spoke above me.

“Tobirama’s students I take it?” He gave them such a blank-faced monotone, appearing so uncaring and knowledgable at the same time that I had the urge to ask him ‘how,’ he could possibly do both. In symmetry to me, the elders seemed more surprised, nodding along without vindictive sneers as they so commonly displayed unto me.

“I have been meaning to ask you: How do you think the Kyuubi escaped their host? Considering, your keen observance of my fiance, one would assume that you thought it to be a failing of the Jinchuriki of the time. This, is what I concluded to be your stance, however:

Over the last few weeks I have spoken directly with the heads of two clans who were alive during the attack, old allies of the Uchiha as it so happens. And received some very troubling information. Perhaps it is not known largely anymore, but I do have trouble imagining Tobirama’s own students would forget the Mangekyou Sharingan can control the Nine-tails. So, it was extensively odd to me when I found out Uchiha were ordered to ‘Not take offensive or defensive action.’During the Kyuubi attack and merely remain escorting the citizens in a passive posting. When with our Sharingan we could have prevented far more deaths then other shinobi.

Then I realized the truth. You thought the Uchiha responsible for Kyuubi’s escape.”

I couldn’t remember a time when he could’ve spoken to any clan heads, nevermind leave the house. I felt my eyes narrow, either he was bluffing in order to get them to reveal something, or he’d been sneaking out for secret meetings with ‘the guys.’ Worse still, I couldn’t call him out on it, because I don’t want to ruin whatever he’s trying to pull with the elders. The thought of smacking him rang throughout my head a couple times, now it was just a little louder, though I’m certain he’s had a similar inclination before.

For their part, the two oldest -looking- of us, seemed to be in a strange state between profound anger and shock. If any of what Mada had said rang true, then it’d be obligatory for me to punch them. That is, until he began to speak once more.

“Furthermore, while you considered my clan responsible for the travesty, you could not outright blame them, nor can you do so now. Rumours would begin to spread far too fastly, those among your shinobi who understand the circumstances of what occurred would figure out what you did. So, as opposed to slowly pinning it on the Uchiha clan over time, so you choose a scapegoat. Using my Naru, and making sure the village blamed him directly for the death of their Fourth Hokage, First Lady, and countless precious lives. Of course, my clan figured it out long before anyone else, your play. They knew you, the council, put the blame solely on them and had from the night of the attack, as result, they began to uprise with the accusation. They knew, you would begin to restrict them ever further until they would have to give into a false claim, or risk a revolution -therein, a civil war.”

My heart began hammering down in my chest, continuously and predictable in rhythm but discomforting, and affected by the tension surmounting in the air around us. Even if it was far more complex then I was used to dealing with, I knew what Madara was saying with his accusation -and it was.- All of it sordid and the actions of paranoid people at war, not residing peaceful villagers. I’m certain that if I listened close enough to the clan heads who had been in charge at the time, I would understand better then now. Or if I was as knowledgeable of village, and clan, politics as my fiance.

Worse of all, it made sense. In a twisted, contorted fashion.

So, the Uchiha were blamed directly on the night of the attack, and the council ordered them to not interfere -even though they had no evidence.- due to their belief of guilt. But despite their belief, the blame couldn’t be directly put on such a powerful clan, not publically. Therefore they began taking away certain things from the Uchiha in order for them to admit guilt, all the while stroking the villagers hatred for the clan as a whole. -Shikamaru mentioned it once, according to his dad, the citizens began to resent the Uchiha further because they hadn’t helped stop the Kyuubi.-

They must’ve felt so cornered.

Looking to the man I love, I saw something unnerving. It wasnèt obvious, thankfully. His eyes were narrowed in a typical Uchiha glare, one recognizable anywhere, but that wasn’t what attracted my gaze. It was his stance, sometime during his lecture his feet had shifted into a traditional basic fighting alinement. What concerned me most was the harsh mouth line making itself prominent, a scowl. He’s angry. Very, he hadn’t taken note of his movements or his marred expression. Acting on instinct, should a battle shinobi become angered, we typically move on primal inclination and training. Readying ourselves for a fight where we could kill the object of our ire. And while it was law that a ninja didn’t lose control of their emotions, anger was a feeling so practically used that it was seen as a grey area within that rule.

Seeing him like this, in a type of manner I’d never viewed before, it was intimidating. Scary even, in knowing his past. Still, to make such a peace-loving -though battle ready- man so angry, the grudge I’d previously held over the council tripled. Accusation, and truth, of their actions aside.

“We did what we had, for the sake of the village.” Came the quiet defense, sincere in belief, but I felt it changed nothing.

“Please,” I shocked myself by speaking, even so, my mouth continued, I wasn’t going to stop. “Just because you hide under the guise of honour, it changes nothing but your morality. Having dealt with you for so long, I know that you suck as advisers. You cannot see beyond your own personal vendettas, it makes you crap at your job and even worse as people. Think, while the Kyuubi attacked, did you even consider it could be anyone other then the Uchiha? The Nidaime's own distrust of the clan is well-known, and documented, perhaps he passed on more then his ninjutsu and nindo unto you, dattebayo.”

With my piece said, I expected to feel hesitant or the loom of all the possible repercussions over me, however, all I felt was power. As if I’d finally managed to break myself free from their control. Almost as proof of this my legs moved on their own, and I stepped around them with my head so high it felt light. Leaving them without glancing back, and feeling so good for it. A cold hand rested on my elbow, reassuring.

“Well done.” He spoke, and the praise gave me so much satisfaction. Though I did want to laugh a little, as that had been the most I’ve heard him speak to anyone other then myself, and it ended up sounding like a parent giving a lecture to a misbehaved child. The implications of his words were still settling in my mind, but I knew he understood political thinking far better then I, and likely I would never fully understand just what was accused.

Even still, I looked up to him and let a little irritation seep through me once more. “So, when did you have time to meet with these ‘clan heads,’ you mentioned? I seem to recall you continuously being with me.” Though he had been getting more D-ranked missions to try and ease himself back into the flow of everything. There was little opportunity.

“I spoke with that Ino woman, she connected me to her father Inoichi, and in turn Shikaku. I was curious as to how my clan got killed. The fact that it was on the inside unnerved me, so I wished to dig deeper then the surface elements. We would meet at a small dango shop at eleven past midnight.” I really wanted to smack him, he seems so keen to wear his body thin. Still, if nothing else, I could be glad he was making some friends within the village, albeit in his own strange way, but hopefully friends nonetheless... “Although I still do not have all the information I need, there is one person of interest that I wish to interrogate.” I wondered at that. Questioning him with my eyes rather then asking outright. “Danzo.”

Shit. I knew that name. Was he not the leader of the organization Sai had been a part of? Root, who were more secretive then the anbu? I remembered that it was a nasty place at least, or their morals were. Danzo couldn’t be any better. It makes me uncomfortable thinking of Madara trying to confront the man for his answers. Even more so, because if Sai was to be believed if it was necessary the man would send an assassination squad to deal with a potential threat.

Danzo would be aware that ‘Tajima’ was an Uchiha, and in recollection that the man was another of the Nidaime's students… He would probably not hesitate to have the man I love killed.

“No,” I spoke partially without thinking, and partly from thinking to much. “Ma - Tajima, don’t involve yourself with that man. Please, he’s extremely dangerous, he’ll kill you if you dig to deep.” What if Root were ordered to capture him and interrogate to find out how much he knew? What if they found out his identity?

My head was spinning, I’d lose him to this if everything got out of control, and not merely on the battlefield but to the village itself!

While he seemed to take my words into account, his face was blanked over, uncaring. In a way, a cruel way, it reminded me of Sasuke, but while Sasuke had burned red-hot in his vengeance, Madara was cold, freezing, and calculating. “You know of him. Is there anything prevalent that you could tell me about him?”

I feel a burn in my stomach. “You aren’t listening to me!” It was indignant anger, I could recognize it as the same type as when Tsuande had insulted the Hokage, or when Deidara had sat on Gaara, or when Orochimaru had mocked Sasuke and I. A burn that settled below my skin, but rose so quickly that it was impossible not to act on.

His eyes twitched violently. Staring me down. “I am. It is insignificant.” I could see, hear even, that he was getting irritated with me. Although it hadn’t really happened before, I know I can’t back down merely because I’m making him angry. This was his life on the line! “Banishment aside, they were still my family, descendants yes, yet still of my blood. What happened to them is not something I can ignore merely because it suits me best. I am certain this Danzo knows more then the councilmembers we just spoke to. I cannot, and will not back away from this just because a coward tells me too.” It was different, rationally I knew this. But my mind kept ringing with the words.

‘I am, it is insignificant.’ Maybe it was my own pathetic situation putting in its two cents, experience with being told as much. But, I couldn’t help the distinct feeling that he was saying that I am insignificant. The fact that he’d called me a coward stung for only moments alongside the jeer. A lurching hole seemed to swallow any joy I had in me, and didn’t replace it with anything else. Just uncomfortably unfeeling. ‘Just because a coward tells me too.” Is that what he really thinks of me?

God, and it felt even stranger having no feeling of emotion, to have tears spilling forth.

An insignificant coward.

Worse still, I know somewhere at the back of my mind, that he didn’t mean it like that, and that calling me a coward was a product of his anger, not true thoughts. Even though I knew, it didn’t seem to matter.

I found myself looking right into his eyes, he was still angry, but he was calming down. “My thoughts on the matter are irrelevant huh.” For that something dimmed in his expression. “Am I really just a coward to you?” He twitched slightly as I spoke.

“That’s not-” Maybe the blankness was anger because I didn’t want to hear it. I knew he hadn’t meant it, I know I should forgive him, and let it pass. But the child in me didn’t want to let it be that simple. I wanted him to know that his words could, and would affect me.

“I’m gonna sleep at a friend's tonight, there's stew on the stove for dinner. Don’t forget your tea.” The idiot that he is, harsh as he can be, I still love him.

We could talk about Danzo later, right now, I just need some time to stop feeling hurt by misspoken words. 

Chapter Text

Honestly it is rather insulting to kick myself out of my own home. Humiliating would probably be the best word. I am lucky however that Shikamaru couldn't care less, and seemed to have sympathy at the same time as his stoic attitude. Truly he is a complex human being, and I will end up owing him a fruit basket and a nice napping pillow for letting me in without a fuss.

Strangest of all is the lack of grumping Uchiha about the place, well, perhaps grumpy wasn't the best term, he was more relaxed, in my opinion anyhow. I had only been here one day, yet I soley had the desire to return home to my elder fiancee, offended or not. So I had decided to go back this afternoon, and in the meanwhile I'll get some stuff done about the village. Weddings took much time to prepare, and as it was we had nearly nothing in the works. I still had to come to a decision on what I would be wearing, though of course Madara had left it rather ambiguous. His mind on the matter was traditionalistic, so he was going to dawn something I wouldn't recognize from Uchiha tradition.

I have to find someone who would be willing to tailor something for me, considering my position within the village I doubt that'll be possible. I might have to venture outside of Konoha to find a seamstress with a lack of knowledge on my infamousy. Still, perhaps I could simply get Madara to do it for me? Unlikely, I as I do have to get measurements done.

I have to stop myself quickly. Noticing that the anger, grudge, I'd born on my future-husband had nearly completely left. Which in turn, made me more frustrated, at him, at myself, it wasn't honestly directed. Could I really not hold a grudge? I'd forgiven most of the enemies I've met already haven't I? Even with the man who had destroyed my best friend's life, and turned him to a path of cold revenge. I was beginning to see the grey in between his actions. Though, I had no want to. It was far easier to just allow my eyes to watch the world in black and white rather then the middle road.

"N-Naruto?" I startle from myself, anger born of stubbornness leaving almost immediately. I nearly expect to see the gentle visage of Hinata, even though it was clearly Sakura's muscled form that I met with. I wouldn't say she and I have been on good terms lately, as she had a particularly negative reaction to my to-be. Now, she is looking to the ground and shuffling her foot against the soil. A meak expression I had only ever use with or around Sasuke, in my opinion it didn't suit her at all. Considering this, I choose not to simply dismiss her out of a petty want, she clearly had something she wanted to say. For the strong willed Sakura-chan to be nervous over a conversation, warranted me at least listening.

So I turn to her, and force on an openness I wasn't exactly feeling inclined too.

"I, um, I'm sorry for what I did at your place… Um, I went to the mission desk yesterday, and found out that Tajima-san is actually a registered Jounin. I only did what I did back there because, well, I was scared for you, and worried that he- Well, some of it was shock, maybe I was a little unnerved because of the age difference. B-but we're all shinobi, and we all deserve to find love somewhere." A large sigh followed. "What I'm trying to say is, I support you one-hundred-percent!" My eyes were interlocked with her green ones, as she smashed her fists together, and I got given the impression that it was meant to represent her dedication.

For a moment I just blink, I wasn't expecting that. Moreso, a somber secret told or bad news she didn't want to share. It was a pleasant twist to my expectations. If that was her true position, then I have to at least give her a chance, and accept her apology, from my standpoint, it sounded genuine.

So I did, and I got a large, very crushing hug in response. Before she scampered off with a literal skip in her step. Clearly depicting unto me my reasoning once more for only being attracted to men. Still, it made me laugh, today was a strange day. Even if it had started with a bad sleep, everything seemed to be improving slightly.

Of course, my own optimism hit me in the face at that moment. Running into Madara while scoping out the river he wanted us to marry at.

Normally, this wouldn't be an issue, my irritation was gone, and his cold anger never remained long. But his eyes were almost glossy, and the manner in which he tossed stones into the water was almost religious. A strained frow on his brow creased his face oddly. He also wore a chunin uniform for an unknown reason. From what I could tell, he wasn't merely tossing them into the flowing water, but attempting to throw them to the other side. No strength in his arm movements by his own design.

I can't really understand his thought process behind most things, certainly not this. But the best way to get rocks to the otherside without effort is to skip them across. Iruka-sensei had taught me once. So, I found the flattest rock I could, and flicked it as best I could.

It jumped quite far, but unfortunately not to the other side. Further then what Madara had been doing though, dropping to the liquid near the shoreline.

He turned to me with a tight line for lips. Neither of us say anything for a long time. I don't know why, but words felt misplaced in the atmosphere we'd created. Finally, I forced my hand to hold out, and a smile onto my face.

"Do you want to go train?" It wasn't my usual mentality curning my thoughts. I didn't think him fragile, but I worried about him more then necessary, and I know he hates the feeling it procures. Maybe this is a compromise of my own.

He takes my hand firmly, and it actually feels strong in my hold.

It is as we exchange blows that we are visited by very unwelcome guests of awful repertoire. Members of the council, included among them one of my few mortal enemies, Danzo, his cowardly friends hiding behind his leading figure. It is almost pathetic that the cause of our argument, disagreement, walked with a cane and slumped posture, I don't know if that gives him the illusion of innocence, or if it merely makes me detest him a spark higher. Possibly both.

Madara looks to him for but a moment, and decides within the same succession of time that Danzo is not a man to be trusted. My position of his intrusion is visibly obvious. I gain no response from the object of my ire, though my fiance takes note, and marks by placing himself near me, brushing his hand with mine. I fight to keep myself from shivering to the oddity of his youthful skin.

Even More So the illusion made of his posturing, now put forth an intimidation, a threat. A manner made with the acquired young appearance he now bares, that alongside past attained muscles. Naturally, as the man I love, this serves only to attract me further. A notion not to be entertained within company, though, not that among us. For whatever purpose Danzo stands before us, I worry at the reasoning, his is a presence I can hardly ever bare without a nervous twitch to my mentality bending forward and spouting an angry shout at nothing.

"Do you have a purpose for being here Danzo? I don't need your opinion on my engagement."

Chapter Text

Through all I have known throughout the boundaries of the village, clamoring insults, vicious kicks to my side, maliciously crafted rumours to dull my reputation among my fellows; there is none within the village whom i knew of who could stand so untrustworthy unto me. I had never truely met the man, I had seen a glimpse of him after particular decisions had been made under his advisory, I had heard Sai bluntly describe unto me his image, but I had never spoken in direct with the man; yet I know it is indeed standing before me.

To my peripheral, I see the faint twitch of Madara’s brow. This, as he crossed his arms and automatically postured himself into an appearance of intimidation. Both of us stood similar in fact, I however, knew my stance meaningless before the advisor, it was more then mere speculation on my part that he should think of me as a burden unto the village. Thus, as expected he cast me only a diluted glance with his one uncovered eye, boredom resembling the same express I had seen placed upon my fiance so many times, it bothers me slightly to see it upon a man I’ve been unconsciously hating.

However, Danzo keeps his gaze upon me, in a blinking blank stare which makes me wish to shift out of my skin. The seal begins to tingle against my skin and I don’t know why, loosened or not it hasn’t caused issue. But before Danzo my mind reels and I wish to form a strategic retreat. Something within that man flared Kyuubi to waking which cannot be a good thing to occur, there is no pain within the sensation, a mere discomfort as if it was garnered from both myself and the fox inside. It is apparent as a slow smile stretches over his face, crashing against his wrinkles and proclaiming them ever further, he must know why I am disturbed while I don’t not and that is the most frightening thought I’ve had in many years. I can’t say much of what I know about the man, but all I have heard of him, second-hand or not is horrendous, so I force my nerves to calm as best I can, I ignore the twinge in my abdomen, and I stare him down just as he’s been doing with me.

In a flicker, hardly noticeable to the common eye, his smile drifts away. I feel the grin sharply poise itself onto my own face at the sight. “So why are you here?” I add no respect to my phrasing, I don’t see what would appropriate such a respect to a man of bile. I’m certain he notices, but his gaze flicks from me to Madara as a small furrow forms in his brow.

“You are Taijma then.”It isn’t a question, and though in a tense atmosphere, I find myself slightly relaxing as Madara moves to take off his shirt, no consideration for company as he does so, it distills the hostile atmosphere. And had I not come to understand him further, I would be questioning why a man of such traditionalist views would take off his shirt while in the presence of some of Konoha’s most respected shinobi, but I know it is a show of his opinion. He does not respect them.

“I am.” Is all he responds with, leaving them to continue with their questioning and avoiding unnecessary answers. I turn down my eyes as I catch a glance at his uncovered chest -age discarded, he’s an incredibly fit man, and his many visible scars are irritatingly attractive. It is Homura who speaks next, his glasses somehow contorting his expression to appear more irate then I believe him to actually be.

“Are you an Uchiha?” Madara nudges at my arm, I look up to him as he raises a brow in questioning, both flaring the blush I had already felt coming and giving me cause to kick his ass. Naturally, I throw a punch at his smug appearance, while he casually blocks it.

“Perhaps.” Comes his bland response in a gravelled deepened tone. He does a smooth side-kick to my stomach I easily -hardly manage- dodge it by stepping back.

“That is not an answer Tajima-san.” Homura speaks yet again, and I focus on the sweat on my brow as Madara makes a point to showcase more of his taijutsu skill unto me then he has in previous. I mutely hear his response therein, but my mind snaps to attention as the kunai is thrown to me and nearly jabs my thigh. On his side Madara holds his concealed sythe, and I ready myself for when he uses it as a bo, because I know he will. The conversation around me becomes rather unimportant as he does so, jabbing to my abdomen in quick succession as he aims to my head. I see his lips move in sync with his answers, but I am avoiding listening to them as he distracts me with his attacks.

That is when I realize, that had been his intent, and though I know I can be rather slow in comprehension, I hadn’t expected him to use that to his advantage so that I don’t hear a simple conversation. Which is why, though I focus still on his movements, I tune myself back into the words flying around my ignorance.

“-if so, then you should be partnered with someone-” Koharu coughs ever so slightly. “Who is capable of providing hiers.” Both myself and Madara stop, and a growl escapes me, something brewing underneath my comprehension as emotion presents itself.

“I told you I can-” All stares flicker to me, “-I can have kids just like a woman okay?!” My foot sinks into the water then as I stomp it like a child, annoyingly wetting my pant leg.

“Thus, this conversation is inconsequential, of Uchiha origin or not.” Madara adds on, and I smile at him as he does so, because he had no need to, but even as he slips his shirt back over himself, he rests his hand on my shoulder for a moment. Before gesturing to the village as a whole, “clan matters are not of your concern either way lest in risk of civic upheaval or rebellion so states the constitution of Konohagakure, and as I am merely one man-” he snorts to himself very quietly. “I doubt I could conquer all of Konoha, spouse or no.” Then, as his eyes stare firmly down upon the irate council members afore us he adds “unless there is another reasoning for your very visual concern of my potential Uchiha status and my marriage to Naruto-kun.” Though the question is implicated, even I understand what he means; my hand rather unconsciously rests on my seal.