Chapter Text
First meetings
In a world driven by bloodshed and war, where something as minute as one’s family name created all division, socialisation and relationships external to one’s family and their treaty partners were highly discouraged. The person someone shared a friendship with one day, could end up being the very person they encountered on the battlefield the next day, and had to kill for the priority of their kinship. So, individuals stuck to their close circles of blood siblings and other clansmen, and were content with this arrangement. Tajima’s first born, eldest son, and future heir, Madara Uchiha, was born with innate desires and ideas that led him on pathways that others always disapproved of.
Being the eldest of his five brothers, Madara grew up with a Father and rules from elders that his brothers, and other clan children born after him, were never aware of. The pressure, the stringent rules, and the punishments for failing to adhere and meet their impossibly high expectations, were the perfect recipe to create a future rebellious leader; who once reaching the godly power level they wanted him to, was going to listen to no one except for himself, and do whatever he would deem right based on his own righteousness and morals. In the meantime, it created a drive for him to try harder and achieve what they wanted him to, until he would realise none of it would ever matter. His upbringing was vastly different to his brothers, including Izuna. This experience of his that no one else understood, made him feel distant and disconnected from his own brothers and clansmen, and sought company of his level elsewhere.
It was late afternoon, the most common time for Madara to sneak out of his clan territory by himself, and indulge in his freedom to roam around and do whatever he wanted - away from his Father, the elders’ scrutiny, and their suffocating demands. In the world they lived in, it was not only their last names that announced their identity to their enemies, but also, their physical features. Particularly for the Uchiha, whom’s combination of black hair, onyx eyes, and jet black Tengu wings, clearly announced who they were. Many clanfolk shared a combination of black hair and eyes, but collating that with sharp Tengu wings - that was an Uchiha exclusive. For that reason, Madara wore covers over his wings that made them appear brown and white, a common colour for any civilian bird folks under the sparrow and pigeon categories.
Arriving at the forest clearing Madara visited frequently, he landed softly and silently on a tree branch. From the leaves obscuring his view, a rock pavement gazed out to a small river, and then the forest continuing on its other side, could be seen. Typically, Madara would land on the rock pavement to meet his stone skipping rival/friend, but today, he was feeling cheeky, and he wanted to scare the young boy with the bowl cut, the way he had been frightened last time they met and hung out. This friend was clearly in training to become a warrior, or already was one, and a powerful one at that, because the size of his wings were akin to Madara’s, and similarly to Madara, his friend always wore wing covers to camouflage his true identity. However, just before he could start looking for his friend, Madara was grabbed by his shoulders, and pulled back with great strength. His reflexes kicked in, and he immediately pulled his arm back to punch the culprit while turning around to see them, only to pause when he saw his friend - Hashirama, with an apologetic look on his face, but gesturing Madara to remain silent. Madara furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but turned towards the clearing that hosted the river they always met at, as guided by Hashirama. Together, the young boys crouched amongst the leaves that hid them, and watched the spectacle before them.
In the river, there was a seemingly young boy, whose physique looked much smaller compared to Hashirama and Madara, but bore wings similar to their size. Evidently, just like them, he wore wing covers - the remaining details of his appearance were unknown since his entire frame was covered by a cloak with a hood. Seeing an unknown stranger on their meeting spot was alarming for both Hashirama and Madara; however, the spectacle that the boy displayed before them, had both of them watching him with wide eyes filled with awe.
Knowing basic chakra control, the young boy stood on the water effortlessly. However, on the surface of the water surrounding him was a circle of golden and white flames, that shimmered with each flicker of the flame that left the circle, floated in mid-air in front of him momentarily, before burning out of existence. The circle of shimmering flames was reflected in the water’s reflection, and the brightness of the golden and white flames in the water and the circle they burned in, glowed like a giant lantern. The sight was breath-taking, but more importantly, they had never seen flames continuously burn on water without extinguishing; much less see flames that did not burn someone when they weaved their hands through it like it was a casual play time activity, like the boy had been. It looked like he was wielding magic, and Hashirama turned to Madara with excitement brimming in his eyes.
Hashirama roughly hit Madara on his arm to get his attention. “Are you seeing that?! It’s unreal! Imagine how powerful he is!” He exclaimed.
Madara scowled and slapped Hashirama’s hand away. “Of course I’m seeing that, I’m watching with you, idiot!”
Hashirama frowned. “You don’t have to call me an idiot,” he defended, and then, nudged Madara harshly lightly which caused the latter male to lose his footing, and cling onto the nearby branches to balance himself. Madara succeeded in balancing himself, and however, grabbing onto branches caused their leaves to rustle, which alerted the hooded boy. Instantly, the hooded boy froze, and snapped his head in the direction of the spot they were hiding in. His eyes were fully white, with a single golden and white ring of flames burning dangerously in them. Their eyes glared in anger, and both Hashirama and Madara froze at being caught. For the next few seconds, no one moved a single muscle, as they watched the hooded boy in anticipation, and vice versa. Then, as if the hooded boy had an epiphany that he was out in woods alone, Hashirama and Madara outnumbering him, using familial powers that others are likely not meant to see, his eyes had widened in fear. The circle of golden flames surrounding him vanished instantly, and he took off running to escape. Instinctively, both Hashirama and Madara being predatory birds, took after him and started to chase him.
“Hey! Don’t run from us! We’re not going to hurt you!” Hashirama yelled, as he jumped from one branch to another, chasing after the hooded boy, who turned his head to glance at them momentarily and observe his potential enemies.
“Stop being a moron! We don’t know what he’s capable of, what clan he’s from, or what he can do - we’ll hurt him if he’s a threat! And you whine about being called an idiot when this is how you act,” Madara chastised, and glared harshly at Hashirama. As if the hooded boy had heard his words of threat, the hooded boy immediately squatted deeply, and then forcing power through his legs, was about to perform a high jump to transform his fleeing into a flight to the skies. Both chasers recognised the action since they utilised it themselves. However, due to his keen eyes, Madara understood his attempt to escape earlier than Hashirama, and so, was able to respond accordingly.
“Oh no you don’t!” Madara hissed, and immediately, his wings expanded fully from his back, as he jumped down from the branch, and dove straight towards the hooded boy. Just as the hooded boy had jumped, and was about to launch himself in the air, he was grabbed and tackled to the ground by Madara. The two birds, with their tangled limbs, went toppling on the ground roughly - the impact causing incisions and scratches on their skins. Eventually, Madara managed to wrestle himself on top of the hooded boy, yelping out in pain in between when he was scratched. He sat on his stomach, and pinned his legs with his weight, and arms above his head with one hand, to immobilise him.
The hooded boy made futile attempts to push Madara off him. Beginning to feel annoyed by his thrashing and thrusting, Madara leaned his weight fully onto the hooded boy, subconsciously noting that it felt like two small bumps of fat against his chest, rather than a flat and broad frame when he laid over the hooded boy’s chest. He did not fully digest the reality of who was underneath him until he roughly yanked the hood of the boy with a triumph smirk on his face.
“Got you, brat-” Madara exclaimed, but paused mid sentence, when tucks of long hair fell down their face, and Madara was met with a ferocious glare. Then, the two bumps of fat against his chest registered to Madara at a conscious level, and his cheeks started to redden. Simultaneously, Hashirama had landed beside them, and gasped at the scene before him. He easily pulled Madara off the person he was pinning, and shook his head at his friend in disapproval.
“I’m the idiot? I’m not the one who chases pretty birds and calls her a brat while pinning her down. That’s not how you treat a lady Madara,” Hashirama lectured, and hit his friend over the head.
Madara growled and swatted at Hashirama until he released him. “I didn’t know she was a girl, and neither did you until this moment. Not that it matters, you saw what she did, she’s fully capable of being a threat!” Madara barked, and as he and Hashirama were arguing, the hooded girl was about to take this chance to escape. But before she could, Madara snapped his head towards her and glared harshly.
“Don’t even think about it! You might be strong, but you can’t take on both of us,” He warned, and Hashirama stood beside Madara, guarded, but not fully prepared for combat in an attempt to not come across as a threat.
She frowned, but nonetheless, responded to their threat with her own, as her eyes changed from [e/c] to their previous visage - her sclera became fully white, except for a golden circle of white and golden flames etched in it. “I am perfectly capable of fighting, and I wasn’t a threat. I was the only one minding my own business, and it was you two!” She exclaimed, pointing obviously at Madara, then Hashirama. “That were stalking me and then decided to chase me! Even then, I tried to flee, but you tackled me and pinned me down. If anything, you’re a threat to me and I should be handing your little tushie to you through a beating!”
A tick of anger popped on Madara’s head, not solely due to her threat, but mainly from how childish and weak the language she used was because who says tushie?! He opened his mouth to retort back, but was interrupted by Hashirama.
“You’re right, we were the ones who started this entire ordeal and chased you, we’re sorry. Not that it's an excuse, but we were just really taken with your skill and what you were doing - I have never seen someone light flames in water that continue to burn. It's so unusual and we can’t even understand how skilled you’d have to be to do that. We just wanted to share the compliments and ask you more about it,” Hashirama said, smiling sincerely. The genuine honesty embedded in his words caused the girl to drop her guarded shoulders and snarl, and within a minute, her cheeks felt hot from feeling flustered at the compliment; she smiled shyly.
“Did you really think it was that good?” She asked, with an odd vulnerability evident in her voice.
Madara scoffed. “Can pigs fly?”
Immediately, Hashirama could see that she was becoming angry again, so responded instantly to deescalate the damage control.
“What he means is that, it's very obvious that you’re skilled just based on what we saw, and thinking otherwise would be like questioning something real like pigs ability to fly,” Hashirama explained, smiling awkwardly, hoping that she believed their bullshit.
She glared at Madara momentarily, before she replied. “I wouldn’t know how good or not my skills are. I’m not allowed to fight- actually, I’m not allowed to know any jutsu. I’m only taught how to be a good future wife,” the last word was spat out with venom, and both Madara’s and Hashirama’s eyes widened. It wasn’t that uncommon that some clans practised very traditional gender roles, and that involved only having the clansmen as warriors, especially since their women were expected to bear children and look after the munchkins. But for this very reason, and when most men went to war and their women and children were left behind, the women were still taught jutsu and received the same training to fight and protect themselves, their families, and homes. The only exceptions to that rule can be important daughters of clan leaders, who were an essential political piece in arranged marriages to create strong alliances.
“I haven’t had anyone teach me anything, this has just been what’s natural to me… since forever,” She said, and opened up her fists to show golden flames burning in her hands, without having wielded any hand signs, causing both of the boy’s eyes to widen in surprise.
Madara was the first to scowl in anger on her behalf. “Your family are archaic and idiots. What good does training you to be a wife for another clan achieve when they can foster your talents for their benefit, and train you to be so much more than the tiny box they think you to be in,” He stated plainly, and her eyes snapped to his in surprise. Then, she smiled softly at him.
“You’re right. If this is what I can do without any teachers, I wonder how strong would I be if I was given the opportunity,” she spoke, a hint of sadness laced in her voice. Her eyes switched from white sclera to her normal typical [e/c]. Whereas her eyes were cold, guarded and defensive when her irises were void of colour, now they were filled with a gentle softness, warmth, and kindness. Madara felt his cheeks heat up, and his heart beat quicken as she approached them with an affectionate smile, and held out her hand in greeting. “I’m [Name].”
“M-Madara,” he stammered, as he linked his hand with hers, and shook it gently. He ignored Hashirama’s snickering at him in the background.
“I’m Hashirama, nice to meet you [Name],” the Senju greeted simply from behind Madara; and with their greetings, a new friendship trio had formed.
Friendships and alliances
Recently, Madara was notably happier. In the last few months, although Tajima and the Uchiha clan elders had been aggravating with their pressure to push Madara to become stronger, his ability to cope with their unwanted demands and expectations had improved, and it was all thanks to his friends: Hashirama and [Name]. Since their first meeting, Hashirama and Madara got along swimmingly. It was surprising how at ease Madara felt with Hashirama when he never felt as understood and seen by his own blood brothers and cousins from the Uchiha clan. Moreover, it was a well-received surprise in how easily [Name] had integrated into their dynamics. She was not only almost keeping up with the boys during their spars and other competitions, but also brought so much joy to their hangouts. With [Name], Madara came to have opportunities that he could never have with anyone else: he could be vulnerable.
A few times when they had arranged to meet up and Hashirama could not be present, when it had just been her and Madara, after a friendly race and spar, during the late afternoon and early evening hours when the sun began to set, they shared personal conversations and vulnerabilities. For [Name], she expressed her desire for freedom, how she wished her family saw more to her than just being someone’s future wife, like Hashirama and Madara had seen. She also shared her gratitude to have Hashirama and Madara as her friends, for the fighting skills they had taught her, the confidence they instilled in her, and their support; for all the good qualities that Hashirama and Madara had seen in her, with everything they helped her achieve, and most importantly, by providing a space for her to be her true self, she was starting to feel that much more restricted in her family with their stringent rules and roles.
In exchange, Madara told [Name] about his brothers, and how despite being in a big family, he still felt so alone. He spoke about the pressure and hunger for power his father and clan elders expected of him, and how he also wished he had freedom to make his own choices. He shared his sentiments of gratitude with her - the way [Name] listened to him without any judgement or interruptions, the tricks and talents specific to her powers she displayed to Hashirama and him (which could have endangered her frankly, but they had never seen anyone else do what she did so they had no idea what family she belonged to), and for being his friend. Although he was very thankful to have [Name] as his friend, his honest feelings dictated otherwise because he wanted more.
When they spoke, Madara loved how the corner of her eyes crinkled when she smiled and laughed, and the bright gleam in her eyes when any of them were making mischief. He was never the one for humour and stupid pranks, but just to see her bright eyes and pretty smile, he got into shenanigans he would not otherwise - this was even noted by Hashirama. When she interlocked her fingers with Madara’s during their personal conversations, and he became emotional talking about his troubles and did not even realise it himself, Madara loved how she would tighten her grip on his hand, and stroke the back of his hand softly with her thumb. When they laid on grass together to watch the clouds and embrace their comfortable silence, and the way her hair fell into beautiful tassels behind her, Madara thought she was prettier than any natural scenery they gazed at.
He loved her, and easily, [Name] was starting to become his favourite person. Hashirama was also starting to tease him for this, often showing up late for their hangouts, so Madara and [Name] could be alone together.
With an excited grin on his face, Madara was amidst putting covers on his enormous jet black wings, prepping to sneak out and spend another afternoon with his crush and best friend. However, just before he could, he heard loud angry foot stomps heading his way, which Madara associated with Tajima. Immediately, swiftly, Madara shoved his wing covers underneath his mattress, and sat on the floor with his legs crossed, to give the impression that he was meditating.
Tajima opened his room’s door without any notice and knocking, and stared down at Madara with an emotionless face etched with a hint of disappointment, his fully developed sharingan ablaze. Over the years, and much more recently, their relationship was becoming more estranged. Madara was fully aware of how his father and the clan elders perceived him, despite the fact that he was much stronger at his age than his father had been. The young boy kept his eyes shut, back straight, and expression neutral, although the same knot of anxiety that existed in his core anytime he was around his father, had returned, and he wanted to escape. He wanted to be where his friends were. Knowing that he could not speak until he was spoken to, Madara continued the facade of meditating.
“Madara,” Tajima greeted coldly. Finally, Madara opened his eyes. Immediately, the sight of his own father’s sharingan glaring down at him, put him on edge - something was very wrong, or was about to be wrong. Even when his father had been cold, he never used his own sharingan on his sons.
“Tajima-sama,” Madara greeted back, since he had been thoroughly instructed that he had to address Tajima the same way his clansmen did not too long ago. This contributed to their deteriorating relationship.
“Follow me.” Tajima said simply, before he turned his back to Madara, and began walking to their destination immediately, not waiting for his son. At this point, he did not have to anyway, since they had conditioned Madara to do their bidding really well, and he listened to their orders as if it was second nature to him.
They walked past the hallways in their home, until they came across the meeting room that Madara was most familiar with. This was the meeting room that was covered with hidden seals, and utilised specifically when Tajima and the clan elders met with Madara alone to berate him, pressure him with their expectations and demands, or when the decaying and useless old fools sat in comfort sipping their tea, and would watch as Tajima beat Madara black and blue almost to death, and withheld treatment in an attempt to push Madara to become ‘stronger.’ It had been a while since Madara had been brought to this room. Last time he was, they had continuously poisoned him and would not allow him to leave, until he developed an immunity for that poison. No matter how much he had suffered, and actually begged to be spared because he was convinced they were going to kill him, they would not stop feeding and injecting him with poison.
The knot of anxiety Madara felt earlier, was starting to become a heavy stone weighing on his stomach. His chest felt tight and clogged, and he wanted to run away because something felt horribly wrong. But, he could not afford to show any signs of nervousness, so regardless of what he felt, he kept it all at bay. Madara clutched his hands into fists in anticipation, as the meeting room doors opened, and Tajima and him entered. Instantly, the doors shut behind him, and officially, Madara had no escape now - whatever was going to happen, he had to see it through. Tajima flew up to the higher level seating area that was specifically for the head of the clan, and the elders were seated in their seats that were at lower levels, but still above Madara’s. Following Tajima’s example, Madara flew up to sit in his designated spot. He sat on his knees, and bowed deeply with his head against the floor.
“I greet Tajima-sama and the elders of the Uchiha clan,” he greeted, and there was no response. However, Madara could feel a minimum of five pairs of sharingan glaring into him.
“Rise Madara,” Tajima instructured, and Madara raised from his bow, and sat up with his back fully straight. He was fixated by the utterly cold look in his father’s eyes.
“You weren’t in the last battle, so you need to know. In our last few fights with the Senju, we lost gravely and have suffered tremendous losses. The Senju have recently gained powerful alliances with the Inuzuka and the Yamanaka clans, and are getting warriors with more kekkei genkai to fight for them, and we’re suffering. We need to gain more powerful allies as well and we need strong treaty agreements. It’s time that we’re considering your brothers also start joining our battles,” Tajima said harshly, and although Madara knew he was not allowed to speak until asked, and he had to do what Tajima and the clan elders said, he spoke out of turn regardless, with a glare on his face.
“You can’t be serious! Izuna and the others are too young and too weak to fight, they’ll be killed straight away! You have me! I’ve been joining fights and I do whatever training and shit you put me through to get stronger because we had an agreement that you wouldn’t send them off to battles yet as long as I did what you said and brought the results you asked for!” Madara hissed in anger. At his tone, and being interrupted, Tajima growled.
“SILENCE BOY!” He yelled, his voice echoing off the meeting’s room walls. Madara gritted his teeth in frustration, before bowing once more in apology.
“I am warning you now boy, do not interrupt me again!” Tajima hissed, before continuing. “We have found an ally through whom we will certainly turn the tide of this war. Our alliance with this family will happen through marriage, your marriage. You, my heir, will wed the daughter of the family leader. And when she bears your children, they will be warriors with their powers and abilities combined with our kekkei genkai, and not even the Senju will be able to stop them.” He commanded, glee evident in his voice. Still in his bow, Madara was gritting his teeth in fury. A new rage of injustice was boiling inside him, and he wanted to kill Tajima, and every single despicable elder present in the room, that he knew contributed to convincing Tajima of this horrific plan. Because how dare they! Not only had they already taken all of his bodily autonomy, they were planning on taking his brothers when they had promised they wouldn’t, they were planning on selling Madara off for some stupid alliance and power, and they were already planning on how they were going to use his future children for their idiotic wars. They were planning on taking everything from him, and in his boiling rage, Madara’s own sharingan had switched on, and his talons were starting to claw out of his nails. They were not even giving him a choice to agree to this on his own terms.
“But they won’t be fully satisfied with the marriage proposal as you are now, you’re not strong enough. You need to be better, more ruthless, much more powerful,” Tajima stated, and all of a sudden his voice sounded too close. The feeling that something horrible was about to happen triggered in Madara’s core again, except, this time, it was whelming. Following his gut instinct and letting go of adhering to their rules, Madara sat up from his bow, his two-tomoes sharingan flashing. However, before he could make an effort to move away, he was grabbed by all his limbs, and multiple people restrained him. His eyes flashed everywhere, memorising who was restraining him, and seeing their sharingan blazing down on him traitorously. He used his full physical strength to try to pull himself free from their harsh grips, and to punch or kick the other tengu away, but his efforts were fruitless.
Then, Tajima walked up to him, and holding a paper tag with seals on it, and a black capsule in his hand, he struck the paper tag on Madara’s head, and gripped his son’s cheeks brutally, to force his mouth open. Simultaneously, Madara felt other elders who were restraining him put seals on his wings, and his eyes were wide in genuine fear, something Tajima had rarely seen on him; however, regardless, he knew it would be the last time Madara would show that expression. Forcing his finger in Madara’s mouth to open it, Madara felt his heart drop in his stomach, because he could feel the eerie chakra that was coated on the capsule. Before he could try to bite his father’s finger to avoid having to take the capsule, Taijma had already forced it in his mouth, and forced him to swallow it.
“My sons before you weren’t able to survive this, but I’m certain you will, Madara. You survived everything else. You will be the next heir to lead the Uchiha clan to its former glory, like our ancestor Lord Indra did once before. It’s time for the second eagle to be born,” Tajima said, and there was a crazy gleam in his eyes. The effect was instant - a horrific burst of foreign chakra that Madara never felt, started to corrupt his chakra pathways. An intense burning pain attacked all of his nerves, and Madara screeched in pain as the bones in the wing's structure started to rearrange themselves. He withered in pain, and with a power he did not have before, he pulled himself free from everyone’s grip that were restraining him. The seals placed on him were absorbed in his body, and his limbs cracked and rearranged themselves as he started to grow. First, his wings became much bigger, and their feathers sharpened. Wings that were fully black, like all Uchiha Tengu, their inner part became etched with spotty patchies of whites and greys. Madara’s hair, which was up to his neck, continued to grow until it reached his knees. His twenty talons, all on his hands and feet came out without his will, sharper, firmer, and stronger, and his sharingan, that was previously only two-tomoes, was now spinning to life with an unique pattern, a step above the fully formed sharingan. Black, grey, and white feathers started to grow beyond his wings - on his arms, upper cheeks, chest, and torso,, and they were sharp enough to cut through his clothes.
Tajima and the elders grinned in glee, taking joy in his new monstrous appearance, and how he was growing, and the horrific view of his body rearranging himself. They started to mutter to each other in excitement, particularly, as the process began to slow, and they saw that Madara was still breathing, albeit heavily.
“He awakened the mangekyo sharingan… One of my sons awakened the mangekyo sharingan,” Tajima murmured in awe, not noticing the big drools of saliva dripping from Madara’s mouth, as if he was a wolf hybrid, rather than a bird creature. It wasn’t until his transformation ceased, and Madara stood tall, almost twice as tall as what his height was a few moments ago, and the loud sounds of his wings extending ready for flight echoed through the room, that everyone halted in their movements. Then, a vigorous killing intent dripped in the air, that made everyone freeze. Having experience on the battlefield and the bloodshed that existed, all the elders knew what a killing intent felt like, and killing intent from a predatory bird, that was going to make them their new prey.
Before they could even think about running away, their heads had been detached from their bodies. Then, the massacre started, and within a single blink of an eye, Madara slaughtered over half of the elders present, despite their attempt to fight back.
With his new form, having been transitioned from a Tengu to a full-fledged Harpy Eagle designated to the Garuda species, Madara glared at his father, and the remaining three elders menacingly, his mangekyo sharingan spinning wildly, itching to be used. The elders with their eyes widened in fear and shaken legs, dropped helplessly on the floor, and bowed shakingly.
“Forgive us Madara-sama,” they cried out together in fear, and Tajima clicked his tongue at them in annoyance.
“Cowards! He’s no match for me!” Tajima hissed, and then snapped his head towards Madara, his own sharingan active this entire time, and returned his glare. “Stand down boy!” He demanded.
He received no response. Well, no verbal response, and Madara had retorted by gripping Tajima’s throat, and easily lifting him up in the air, his talons digging into Tajima’s skin, inflicting pain and drawing blood. Tajima tried to wrestle himself out of Madara’s grip and scratch him, but all his efforts were useless.
“If you don’t-”
“Shut the fuck up,” Madara hissed, and the dehydrated hoarse in his voice, caused everyone to freeze. Before, Madara sounded like a normal teenager that he had been. However, now, there was a shrill attached to his voice that promised danger. [1]
“This is what is going to happen. I am going to cripple you, permanently. For the next few years, until Izuna catches up to me under my supervision, you’re going to continue to lead the clan. You and I will both fight in all battles, you until the day you die.” Madara started in a whisper, threateningly.
“You will lead the clan and do what you do, until I am ready to take charge. But, if you make any decision that I disagree with, what I say will go if you don’t want to die. And you three shithead old bags will continue the facade that nothing has changed and the elders are still involved. Find whatever story you need to find to cover up what happened today. If you don’t want to be publicly executed and hung by your intestines when I actually do take charge, for the next few years, do what I say and don’t piss me off. You will not touch my brothers, especially Izuna, with any of the shit you did to me, and he will have a normal childhood until he’s ready to be a warrior. You will not force any alliance marriages on me, and when I have kids, you will never touch them as well. If you break any of these conditions, or you piss me off, I will kill you right there.” He hissed, and then, living up to his promise, the mangekyo pattern in his eyes started to spin, and Tajima, already staring in his eyes, became entranced by it, before he let out a loud scream.
War on Love
The sun was setting, and dusk was beginning. The darkness of the night was starting to cast its shadow over the land underneath it, with some visibility of orange and pink streaks painting the daytime sky that was still present. The temperature was starting to drop, and unusually harsh gusts of wind were picking up. Today’s hang out had been scheduled, but neither Hashirama or Madara had shown up, only [Name] had. And out of all the days, she really needed to have seen her friends today, because it was going to be the last time she was ever going to see them.
Tears were welling up in her eyes, and streaming down her face, as she was hunched over in extreme discomfort in her stomach, arms and legs trembling. She was sobbing quietly, and she had evidently been in this position for hours, because over the river she was hunched over, there was a foul smell from the number of times she had thrown up. Everything she had been raised for her entire life, everything that she did not want, and everything that made her worst nightmare morph into her reality, was happening. She knew it was only going to be a matter of time, but she had not expected it to happen this soon; her father, who she never felt any ounce of love from, had finally chosen her betrothed.
When informed, for the first time, channeling all the strength Madara and Hashirama had helped her to foster in her heart, she stood up for herself and rebelled against her father. In advocating for herself, she revealed her talents, her strength, her fighting skills, and the unique style of her family’s powers she could wield that they had only heard legends about. They were a family of golden pheasants who excelled in combat during the day and using energy from the sun, they wielded their powers and weapons to fight, be swift aerial dualists, and more rarely, heal. Although other bird species had the potential to heal, it was a natural attribute that golden pheasant warriors were born with, and combined with their exceptional fighting skills and endless supply of energy to wield for their attacks as long as the sun was up, they posed a great threat to their enemies. However, amongst golden pheasants, their family legends spoke of phoenixes, godly birds that were blessed by the heavens, legendary warriors that could wield celestial powers, and they were born scarcely in millenniums.
[Name] always knew her wings looked much different to everyone else in her family. Typically, the golden pheasant's wings were different hues of burnt gold, and their inner weathers were amber, copper, or crimson, mostly associated to reflect their abilities. With [Name], not only were her wings much bigger than other pheasants her age, the colour of her wings was pure molten gold, with specks of pure white like the colour of energy released from a supernova, etched in the inner and outer parts of each feather. Her secondary feathers had odd patches of rustic ember. She never knew or expected that she was a phoenix. Yes, she felt uniquely powerful, but with how her family treated her, she did not feel ‘blessed’ or ‘celestial.’ If anything, she felt cursed, because as soon as she had revealed her powers, her father had wielded his own flames against her in anger, and more than half of her wings had been burnt off because how dare she, a useless girl, steal the phoenix from her twin brother. It was all her fault they had claimed.
With more than half of her wings burnt off, [Name] had managed to escape her family and avoid getting killed in haste. Pain burnt throughout her entire body and it was so great that she could barely move. She sobbed in pain, and in distress, because there was no one to turn to - even her friends had abandoned her.
With pain submerging her, and trying to hold onto her life, another round of bile rose up her esophagus, and she threw up. She cried out in pain because she barely had anything left to throw up, and her stomach muscle spasms felt more horrific each time. She was too far gone to notice anything in her surroundings, and did not feel when someone else entered the premises, even when so much darkness was radiating off him, that every other living creature in the vicinity had fled in fear.
Blood dripping from his eyes, Madara landed on the ground, his new permanent talons digging into the soil beneath. His face was void of any emotion, and he scanned the premises around him for a familiar face, with his mangekyo sharingan still blazing, and spinning erratically. Killing intent radiated off him immensely, and when his eyes landed on the hunched up bird, whose molten golden wings were half burnt off, his predatory drive kicked in. He had the sudden urge to fly to the bird, and continue his current ongoing killing streak; however, her familiar scent, and voice as a sob left her lips, immediately caused his eyes to widen, and fly towards her. Instantly, he was by her side, holding her, and gazing down at her with an indescribable ferocity.
“[Name]! [Name]! Snap out of this, get a hold of yourself! Who did this to you?!” Madara growled, and tenderly, being mindful of his new sharp talons that had not been retrieved since his new transformation, moved a lock of her hair that was drenched in sweat, away from her forehead.
“M-Madara? I-, I, th-they burnt m-me, it hurts, so much,” [Name] cried, clutching onto the sides of his arms. Her chest heaved, and her breathing became shallow - instantly, Madara clutched her tighter. He grabbed her face, and forced her to look up to him.
“Open your eyes,” he demanded, and in pain, [Name] shook her head, and then, becoming hysterical, tried to push him off her.
“It-It hurts, I’m going to die. It’s too hot, go! Let me go!” She screamed, and weakly tried to push him off her, but Madara refused to let her go.
“Open your eyes!” He growled, feeling agitated, and the familiarity of angry instructions, like her father usually did, made [Name] oblige instantly. Her eyes snapped open, and before she could say anything, she was entranced by Madara’s mangekyo sharingan, which had been spinning erratically. Right away, he captured her in his genjutsu, until she collapsed in his arms.
Softly, he ran his talons through her hair. “You need to rest my love,” he whispered, and kissed her forehead softly. Then, gently, Madara picked her up princess style. “I’ll protect you. Whoever did this to you, will pay with their lives.” He promised, and then his giant wings extended, and he took off to the skies to return home.
On the day that Madara had rescued her, [Name] had died. The fire her father had used on her wings had burned them from the inside out, and once a bird lost their wings, they typically wouldn’t live for much longer. However, like the old sayings that preached about phoenix and how they rose from their ashes, since the cause of her death had been fire, [Name] underwent rebirth, and had risen from her ashes. In the temporary time that she was dead, Madara went insane; before, when he was going to slaughter her family for the state he had found her in, [Name] had managed to convince Madara to let it go. For her, he had, temporarily. But once she was ‘dead’, he had ambushed them with his warriors at night time, when the golden pheasants could not access their power; he killed her father and brothers, and then spared the clan members that swore their loyalty to the Uchiha.
Since her second birth, and living under Madara’s watchful eyes as his fiance, [Name] understood that the current Madara, was not her Madara. He was not the understanding, kind, and mischievous Madara that she had fallen in love with. Instead, he was domineering, demanding, clingy, possessive, and overprotective. He easily became impatient, and there was a hunger and temper to him that was never there before. Although he cared for her and treated her much better than he treated anyone else, only exception being his last remaining brother Izuna, it was easier to give into him each time for whatever he asked from her, than voice her discomfort, or say no if sometimes that’s what she wanted to do. Before her death, she had tried to stand up for herself and say ‘no’ to her father against the marriage proposal he had arranged for her, and that led to her death. Even if she could be born again (as long as she died by fire), the pain and suffering she went through prior to her death was too much, and she never wanted to go through that again. She trusted that Madara would never subject her to that experience, but that was before… whatever he had now become, and not wanting to risk it, she easily listened and obliged to whatever he said. After all, her entire life she had been raised for that role - the role of a good submissive wife. Really, it wasn’t hard for her, as long as he did not burn, hurt, or kill her.
Ironically enough, she ended up in the very role she had rebelled against her father for; her planned betrothed was going to be with Madara Uchiha, and she was going to end up in the same position she was in now. So really, if she had just listened to her family in the first place anyway, a lot of what had happened, including the trauma she endured, could have been avoided. It was all her fault.
On her second birth, when she was not whelmed with suffering and pain anymore, and in sound mind once more, seeing what Madara had become was jarring. He never told her exactly what had happened, but he had informed her that like her, he was different from his clansmen; unlike the typical Uchiha Tengu that were crows or ravens, Madara was an eagle. First of his kind in many years, since a particular ancestor, and he was one of the strongest types of eagles - a harpy. The difference between him and his clansmen, or even how he looked before, was as evident as day and night; Madara was more monstrous in his appearance, with unretrievable talons for feet, and feathers covering not just his wings, but his upper cheeks, arms, and his chest and torso. He was more bird-like than anyone ever seen before, and he had only learned how to retrieve his talons on his hands so far. To hide his appearance, he wore an akuma oni mask, and a full length hood, and attended all of his clan meetings, and battles with that attire. Very few people knew what he really looked like now, excluding Izuna.
Even though Madara was completely unique and different to how she had known him to be initially, [Name] still loved him. And no matter how he may change in the future, or what he did, as long as he never hurt her, [Name] was still going to love him, because regardless of her faults, and how she perceived herself to be cursed more than blessed, Madara was the only one who continued to choose to love her. Regardless of his faults, he was the only one who had been there when there was no one else. Burnt alive by her family, both abandoned by Hashirama, in their wretched world, their tortured souls only had one another.
This is what I envision Madara to look like after he went through the transformation, its a shitty rough sketch. Idk how to draw wings, so just imagine him with big black wings as well (like howl's bird form, ghibli).
