Chapter Text
-Hinata Hyuga-
The warmth touched her face as her eyes fluttered open and the room was brighter and she knew it was morning. The sunlight spilled in through the narrow window, casting soft and golden beams across the cell room.
Her body was still hot but not burning and the fever had broken and the haze of poison gone. Her mind was clearer now although a lingering grogginess still tugged at the edges.
The same bitter earthy taste clung to her tongue, a reminder of the antidote someone had given her. She swallowed hard and her limbs were heavy as she pressed her palm lightly to her side. The wound was still hot, bandaged tightly but manageable.
The sound of light snoring drifted to her ears, soft and almost boyish.
She turned her head with effort, her eyes flickered to the other side of the iron bars and at the table just beyond her cell…was a man slumped forward in a wooden chair, his head resting against his folded arms. His armor was polished and cleaned on the table nearby, glinting in the soft sunlight. He must have dozed off while cleaning it.
Hinata studied his face quietly and at first her heart skipped at his appearance, his dark hair, his long lashes, the shape of his face. Sasuke? no…there were similarities, yes, but the longer she looked, the more differences she noticed. There was a youthfulness to his face and a subtle difference in his bone structure and the way his hair fell.
Besides…Sasuke would never imprison her and Naruto wouldn’t have allowed it.
Then memories rushed in like a wave.
She remembered the well she fell in, the air shifting, the wild forest where the village and hokage monument should have been. The chaos of the battle and the child surrounded by enemies and her body reacting before her mind could. The blade. The poison. And then…
The cell door creaked open, interrupting her thoughts and Hinata’s eyes snapped toward the sound, her heart pounding.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Madara Uchiha
He stepped inside, his presence commanding even in silence. His eyes immediately met hers steady and unreadable, but there was no bloodlust in them and no fury, just calm observation.
He didn’t say anything to her…he turned his attention to the man still sleeping and he walked over and placed a firm hand on his shoulder, giving it a small firm shake.
“I’M AWAKE!” the man jolted upright, looking around with wide sleepy and groggy eyes.
Madara sighed softly. “go rest. I’ll watch her.”
The younger man rubbed at his eyes like a sleepy child, grumbling softly “mmkay…”
He dragged his feet toward the door, taking his armor as they clanked faintly as he passed, and for a moment, Hinata watched him with a strange sort of awe. They were close, either good friends or brothers she thought…
She didn’t know his name. The stories she had read never mentioned him, only Madara with his vengeance and his downfall.
She watched as he took the seat beyond the bars and settled into it, his arms crossed and his eyes fixed on her with quiet intensity.
She still couldn't believe who was in front of her…this was Madara Uchiha, a man whose name carried legends of blood and ruin, but this wasn’t the man from the stories. Not yet. He wasn’t twisted by the madness of war or the loss that came with it. He didn’t look like he was from the fourth shinobi war, he wasn’t reanimated and full of hatred and...he hadn’t caused Neji’s death yet…
Instead, in the hush of morning light, he looked…human, he also looked entirely and undeniably sane. His posture was straight, confident, but not threatening and his eyes were deep coal black just like Sasuke...but where Sasuke’s gaze often held sharpness, Madara’s held something older, holding experience and weight. He was young, yes, but the kind of young that had already seen too much and lost too much.
Neither of them spoke as they studied each other.
He didn’t move much, he didn’t speak, he only turned his head away from her, losing interest as he looked at her more than he had to. He simply sat in silence, arms crossed and she…she laid across from him in a cell, she was trying to understand the impossible.
She knew now, without a doubt she wasn’t in her time anymore and she had read about this era.
Every heir from a noble clan was taught these histories, studying about their clans involvement, somewhere between diplomacy lessons and chakra theory. The Hyuga especially, they had kept tight records of their involvement during this era and she’d read them. They told stories of the endless battles, the fragile alliances, the way shinobi children were handed blades before they could spell their names. This was the age before peace, before the Leaf…before anyone believed such unity was even possible.
It was a cruel, demanding and unforgiving era…brutal, even to its children.
She looked back to the ceiling for a moment, her hands resting weakly at her side before she finally asked softly and cautiously.
“Is…” she started, her voice quiet breaking the silence. “Is the child alright?”
She turned back and locked eyes with Madara. His gaze lingered, quiet and curious and he tilted his head a little, almost like her question didn’t quite fit the image he had of her.
“He’s alive.” he said simply.
Relief flooded her chest. It softened the tightness in her shoulders and eased the frown between her brows. Madara looked as though he might say more, but the soft creak of the door interrupted him.
Several servants slipped inside, their heads bowed and they approached the cell and paused.
“Madara-sama,” they greeted in unison, voices soft and trained.
Madara gave them a silent nod.
The servants entered her cell and they moved with practiced care, much more disciplined then the servants at the hyuga compound back at home.
Hinata tensed at first, she was uncertain as they surrounded her but she didn’t resist. She hissed through her teeth as they gently helped her sit up, sharp burning pain flaring along her side.
They peeled away the old bandages with skilled hands and replaced them with fresh herbal soaked wrappings. One of them handed her a cup of tea, earthy and faintly bitter and she drank it despite the taste. It was more of the antidote, to push the last of the poison from her system.
Another servant entered shortly after, carrying a tray with a small bowl of steaming broth, a plain bowl of rice and a second cup of tea. She placed it beside Hinata and bowed deeply before retreating.
Hinata, still a little stunned and overwhelmed with all the touching, managed a soft, “Thank you.”
The women said nothing, but they all bowed once more to Madara before slipping silently from the room.
She looked at Madara but he wasn’t watching her anymore. His eyes were on the window, his thoughts hidden somewhere behind the silence. She wondered what was going through his mind especially in this era of time.
She carefully reached for the tray and placed it onto her lap. The bowl was warm in her hands, fragrant with simple ingredients, tiny cut vegetables, mild herbs, and bone broth. It was warm, nourishing and healing. She began to eat in silence…she needed her strength, not just to recover…but to figure out how she would ever get out of here and to go home.
Once she was done with the meal, Hinata carefully gathered the empty dishes and placed them neatly on the tray at her side. A quiet hiss escaped her lips as she eased herself back down, her body still tender and unsteady. She took the moment to shut her eyes and focused on her breathing, on the pulse of chakra within her.
It was scattered she thought with a frown. She could feel it now how the poison had tangled her flow, leaving her weakened and unbalanced. It would take time to center again and to regain her chakra...
The day passed in a quiet dull haze, neither she nor Madara spoke again.
He remained in his seat, ever silent, a steady presence like stone, unmoving, watchful and disciplined. Occasionally she drifted into shallow naps, lulled by the dull ache in her body and the eerie peace of the cell.
At one point, servants returned with a tray for Madara, quietly offering him a meal. They also gave a meal for her and this time, it was something heavier, steamed fish with soft rice, and the bitter tea. Hinata drank it without resistance, she was used to the taste by now. When she thanked them, they gave her nod this time and left with practiced grace.
She and Madara ate in silence and she watched him in wonder, the powerful Uchiha doing human things wasn’t something anyone got to witness. He must have felt her stare because they briefly lock eyes and his was still unreadable and he goes back to his meal, ignoring her.
Later servants came and collected their dishes and it was silent again. Soon the sun dipped below the horizon, the room dimmed until only moonlight remained, filtering gently through the narrow window.
The door creaked open again.
The same man from before the one who had been slumped over the table asleep and snoring lightly, stepped in with careful steps. His dark hair framed a face far too youthful to match the reputation of this era. His eyes found hers immediately and they widened in quiet surprise.
“You’re awake…” he says.
Hinata nodded faintly, studying him just as she had before. He looked so much like Sasuke in certain angles but there was something livelier about him and unlike sasuke he was less guarded and more expressive.
Madara stood at his arrival, stretching his arms with a quiet grunt. She caught the stiffness in his posture, the slight roll of his shoulder as he flexed it out. It looked so…mundane and so human, It almost startled her.
“Try not to fall asleep again,” Madara said evenly, his voice low but teasing. “You’re supposed to be watching her, not dreaming.”
“Tch!” The younger man scowled with a pout, not subtly either and glared, as Madara gave him a dismissive wave and stepped out. The door shut behind him with a quiet click.
They were brothers, she realized…Hanabi acted the same way around her sometimes, dropping her guard and being more expressive. There was also a comfort there, a familiarity in the way this man moved around Madara, the kind of closeness, unspoken but unmistakable.
The younger Uchiha let out a dramatic sigh and dropped himself into the chair across from her, slouching with a huff. Then his eyes flicked to hers, sharp and suspicious and she only offered him a soft and kind smile.
He blinked, startled by it and looked away quickly but didn’t leave the room, although it looked like he wanted to.
Instead, time passed in silence. It was long and dull, he looked bored and he was fighting sleep, her own body felt heavy with sleep but she studied him. Eventually, he must have felt her gaze on him, because he turned back to her, his dark eyes narrowing slightly, arms folding over his chest.
“Why did you save one of our uchiha?” he asked flatly.
The way he said our uchiha was defensive like a shield drawn between them, reminding her that she was the enemy in their care.
Hinata paused and she frowned.
“He was a child,” she said softly. “And he was going to die…how could I just stand there and let him be killed?”
He didn’t reply right away. The silence stretched and when he looked at her again, suspicion still lingered in his dark eyes refusing to fade.
“The Hyuga only care about their own…” he said coldly. “And you expect me to believe you saved him out of the kindness of your heart?”
His gaze narrowed, voice sharpening. "What do you really want?”
Hinata blinked, her body growing heavy again as the fading poison still tugged at her weariness. She yawned, her eyes half lidded as she curled slightly beneath the blanket.
“…Cinnamon bun,” she murmured honestly, her lips curling faintly in a tired smile.
And as sleep overtook her, the last thing she heard was the younger uchiha scoffing loud, clearly annoyed and clearly offended with her answer.