Chapter Text
Karin had done maybe a few things wrong in her life, but certainly nothing that merited this. This was just unfair. It wasn’t even her lab accident that landed her here. She’d simply been in Orochimaru’s lab, organizing dubiously consensual patient samples and minding her own business, and now she was… here.
There were ugly Uchiha back in the day. Who knew?
The man frowned at her. He had some beat-up old armor on, looking out of date even for this time period. Karin knew. About ten different ninja groups must have threatened and chased her by now. The Warring Clans Era could fuck right off, honestly.
The man had the jet black hair of a typical Uchiha and the devastating bags etched into his face that Uchiha Itachi had had, minus the pretty eyelashes. Both traits were pretty common phenotypes in Fire Country, but his chakra was definitely Uchiha. Exactly as planned.
There wasn’t a single chakra signature belonging to someone Karin knew on this entire continent. She’d checked. It was just bands of shinobi eager to attack any other shinobi that looked slightly out of place and— to her horror— actual, free-living tailed beasts just roaming around and occasionally leveling towns. While she’d been hopping between territories, trying to find peace and quiet to meditate, she’d been ambushed four separate times.
On top of all that, there didn’t seem to be any plumbing. Was this… hell?
Hence, Karin was unreasonably annoyed that the man she'd stalked via his chakra had turned out to be kind of plain looking. She was really scraping the bottom of the barrel for a silver lining at this point. If she had to be in hell, she wanted to see pretty people. Why did the universe not even allow her that?
Karin cleared her throat.
“I said,” she said, carefully enunciating her words in case there was like, time-period linguistic differences or something, “I’m seeking refuge in your lands.”
Karin was muddy and banged up from doing a mad two-week dash through ongoing petty wars with no supplies except the fucking label maker she’d been holding in lab, now smashed to pieces somewhere in the bamboo forests of Sound Country. She knew she looked pathetic. She also looked undeniably Uzumaki, which was why everyone involved in the stupid petty wars had wanted to ruin her day.
Modern era Karin? Could put on a plain yukata and lay low by pretending to be a civilian woman with weird hair. Old timesy Karin? Obviously from a famous clan, alone in the woods three countries away from said fancy clan, and everyone wanted to mess with her. She’d fled south as a matter of convenience because people who seemed to want to kill her or force her into labor were mostly coming from the north. She’d only recently gotten her wits about her long enough to make a plan beyond wondering why the fuck people were living in that mountain village with a tailed beast five kilometers away.
Moving south got her into Fire Country, which had its own roaming bands of ninja trying to kill each other, but also, many of these clans would last long enough through history that Karin actually knew things about them. This helped in making that plan she needed.
She was sure if she could get all the way to Uzushio, she could convince them she was some sort of bastard and they’d probably take her in. She had the hair and the chakra and she had two separate Uzumaki bloodline limits— healing blood and chakra chains. But Uzushio was far, far away, and she barely knew three things about it or the Uzumaki Clan. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go there.
Fire Country was a good start to figuring out a safety net. The Uchiha Clan was one of the leading causes of stupid petty wars, but they were also big enough to have a stronghold and maintain some amount of safety in their little corner of Fire Country. They were also old and established enough to have traditions that played at hospitality rules, and had sufficiently recognizable chakra that Karin could easily find and track them from far away without having to pause to meditate. And finally: they were supposed to be hot!
“I don’t have authority over foreign visitors,” the man told her. “I will have to take you to our leader.”
Karin tilted her head back, the sun catching on her glasses. “Alright,” she agreed.
Karin knew exactly where the Uchiha stronghold was, because she could feel their chakra buzzing in the distance, like a whole village of Sasukes. She’d nearly walked into a pretty complex genjutsu trap not too far out from it, only saved by her chakra sensing prowess. She’d concluded that maybe the Uchiha would not like some random woman easily locating them. Instead, she’d used some brief meditation on chakra in the area to map out where the genjutsu traps were set up, figured this area was protected Uchiha land, and then skirted around it to find this guy setting up fishing traps just outside of the danger zone.
She was a perfectly normal, non-scary Uzumaki lady who just so happened to run into some guy and ask for help. Yes, she’d been heading in the direction of the Uchiha, but she didn’t know exactly where they were and she would definitely have been trapped by their little genjutsu if she’d entered their forest. Yep. Basically harmless.
The Uchiha stronghold was a complex of traditional-style homes and buildings, connected by dirt paths and walled in. Karin noted that there were chickens and some vegetable gardens, but not enough for the complex to be self-sustaining. Mostly, free space was dedicated to shinobi activities: kids kicking at old fashioned training dummies, a man sorting through kunai on a porch, some women messing with leather armor.
Karin got face time with Uchiha Tajima more quickly than she’d anticipated. Modern Oto no Karin was a nobody. Warring Clans-era Uzumaki Karin was cool and mysterious and worth talking to.
Karin sat as demurely as possible across from Tajima. Her cute little shorts were absolutely scandalous for this era, but she was so covered in mud by this point that she doubted anyone would notice.
Uchiha Tajima was also not hot. This was so unfair. Maybe she should have gone to the Senju instead.
But I know how to handle Uchiha crazy, Karin thought as tea was set in front of her. She’d picked the Uchiha for more reasons than just hoping to see a pretty face, although that would certainly be a bonus. She was pretty sure the current year predated the Senju-Uzumaki alliance. Who knows what the weirdos in the Senju clan are doing right now. I am NOT negotiating with a sentient tree.
A much younger man stepped into the room. His face was similar to Tajima’s, but not yet chiseled with age, and he had a massive mane of hair that Karin felt made his face more appealing. His chakra was a wild, burning storm, big and bursting and deliciously chaotic. It sat in stark contrast to the way he moved: controlled and completely in charge of all that power.
Now we’re talking, Karin thought, straightening her back as the man appraised her. Finally, a pretty Uchiha man!
The young man sat next to Tajima. Tajima said, “My eldest, Madara.”
Fuck, Karin thought, her fantasies shrieking to halt.
Well. She’d known he’d be here, hadn’t she? She should have recognized that hair.
“I’m Uzumaki Karin,” Karin introduced, bending forward at the waist. The family name felt odd on her tongue. She’d never used it before. It had never had any real benefit to her.
She recited a line from a historical romance novel about formally seeking refuge. Both Tajima and Madara frowned at her wording, so perhaps the novel was not historically accurate, but they both seemed to understand what she was asking: Lone small woman. Big scary world. Please give food and shelter while she figures her shit out.
“How was it that you came to be alone in Fire Country?” Madara asked.
Karin fidgeted, putting on a show of looking nervous for them. She’d at first planned to simply tell them she’d been in a fuinjutsu accident in Uzushio that shot her across the continent. This lie was attractive in that it was similar to what actually happened, making it easier to keep track of details and explain why she had no clue what was going on, and also that sounded like the sort of adventure an old timesy Uzumaki might get herself into.
Then again, wouldn’t it suck if “yeah, we’ve got jutsu powerful enough that we can just teleport people across the continent, oops” got her ancestral clan into trouble by making people suspicious or fearful? What if she set off a butterfly effect that ended with her never being born to begin with? Obviously fear of a single clan’s power had historically gone very poorly for the Uzumaki.
No. It was more embarrassing and personal, but it was better to keep her cover story isolated to just a her-problem. Group bathing meant people would notice her scars eventually, and Karin’s scars were unique enough to warrant gossip about their origin. She might as well use them to her advantage.
And so, Karin played being ashamed, and then rolled up her sleeve. Tajima stayed seated with rigid posture, but Madara leaned forward in interest.
“I was stolen from my family some years ago,” she said hollowly, “and used for my bloodline limit.”
This story, of course, held the risk of horrible things happening to Karin because hey— free magic blood! But also: Karin did know Uchiha crazy. They would steal any other shinobi’s technique they could, but it was taboo to steal someone’s bloodline limit. That’s why Uchiha Itachi had picked that as part of his villain act. That’s why Madara going nuts and stealing eyeballs in a few years will seem so bad.
But this Madara was young. His eyebrows lowered in clear disapproval. The line of Tajima’s mouth thinned.
“I escaped recently,” Karin continued, rolling her sleeve back down. She licked her lips. “I would like to return to my home eventually. But…”
“The journey is long and perilous,” Madara agreed with a nod. He was doing more talking than his father. Part of a transfer of power, maybe. Training for their maniac of an heir. Yippee. “You should not attempt it now. The Uchiha will be glad to host you.”
He went on to say something about autumn being a better travel time for heading east, providing inter-clan conflict did not increase. He gave Karin no promise of indefinite hospitality, but also no hard limit for when she had to clear out. No one knew when fighting might ramp up or die down, and having a guest of another clan could turn out auspicious for them just as easily as she could turn out to be a liability. For now, and unless something changed, Karin was welcome.
And so just like that, Karin was an official guest of the Uchiha clan.
xXx
Madara took a walk after dinner, slipping on a worn haori to stave off the chill of early spring. He felt proud of himself, taking on more and more clan leadership roles as his father slowly passed his title over. But also, a part of him would always itch for the battlefield. He hated being inside all day.
The guard at their gate nodded at him as he passed, wandering into the thick foliage of the surrounding forest. The sun was setting, and the forest floor was already dark as night in the shade of the tall trees. But Madara knew the path well. He did not need a lantern or the sharingan to navigate.
He had not gotten far into his walk when he encountered a band of young Uchiha, returning from a mission. A young man bounded ahead of them, unusually happy for post-mission. A bloody tetsubo— a type of war club Madara had never seen an Uchiha use— was grasped in his hands. The corner of Madara’s mouth ticked up. He knew what that meant.
“Ho,” Madara greeted when the young man skidded to a halt in front of him. “Will there be a proposal tonight?”
A huge grin spread across the man’s face. Madara followed the group back to the complex, abandoning his walk. It was his duty as leader to oversee such things.
There was a pause as the returning shinobi scattered into the complex. The group’s leader stayed behind to report the success of their mission to Madara, but the rest of the complex fluttered to life with preparations for the expected marriage proposal. Madara retreated to the roof of his home, watching the proceedings below. A minute later, Izuna joined him.
“Was it Hajime?” Izuna asked curiously. “His girlfriend was gossipping just today that she expected him to bring her a warlord’s head.”
Madara snorted. “Yes, it was him,” he replied. “Although he bears no warlord’s head.”
The Uzumaki woman, now clean and dressed in a dark blue kimono, wandered out onto the engawa of the back garden below them. She had not styled her striking red hair like most women would, instead choosing to let it spill unbound down her back, covering the Uchiha fan stitched into the borrowed fabric. The red color stood out in the dark garden like the glow of a sharingan. She turned, her face dipping back as she looked up at them.
Madara had not personally met an Uzumaki before. He did not know about this woman in particular, but the clan was powerful. At the same time, they were geographically isolated and largely uninvolved in territorial disputes. He saw no reason to be suspicious that her presence might be a trap by a rival clan, but keeping her safe and well-fed could win them an important favor in the long-run.
He supposed he should therefore act as a good host.
“Woman,” Madara called down to her, and her face twitched. He gestured at her. “Come look.”
The woman— Karin— could not reach the roof in a single bound in the confines of her borrowed kimono, the way Madara and Izuna had. But she hopped along a pillar of the engawa as easily as any skilled shinobi, landing soundlessly on the tiles of the roof. Madara noted her expression melted into something sickeningly coquettish at the sight of Izuna, and she knelt next to him.
“Hello, I’m Karin,” she said to him, voice higher and sweeter than she’d used to speak to Madara and their father. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, fluttering her eyelashes shyly.
Madara twitched. Deceptive woman, he thought, unimpressed.
“The Uzumaki girl my brother invited in?” Izuna said, lips forming a teasing smile. “I’m Izuna, the second brother. Nice to meet you.”
Izuna looked a little too pleased with Karin’s red eyes blinking coyly at him over her glasses, so Madara cleared his throat and pointed below them.
“Pay attention to that man,” Madara said, watching as Karin pulled her attention away from Izuna with a pout.
I am sharing a treasured tradition, he thought, annoyed. Rude woman.
“He and our cousins successfully drove the Masaki clan out of our territory and reclaimed allegiance from three towns,” Madara explained. “During the final battle, that young man defeated one of their best warriors and captured his tetsubo. The tetsubo proves his worth as a prospective husband.”
“Eh? What do you mean?” Karin asked, leaning forward with sudden interest.
Below them, Hajime stood with the tetsubo in hand and a dumb grin on his face as his girlfriend’s sisters rushed off to fetch her. Family members arranged themselves in a loose circle around him, leaving an opening for the girlfriend.
“Old proposal ritual,” Izuna said, and Karin’s doe eyes were back on him. “He accomplished a great feat to prove himself, and now his winnings will be his engagement gift. The greater the shinobi’s feat, the more auspicious the wedding.”
“And what will you get your bride to be?” Karinas asked sweetly. “You seem like such a strong shinobi, after all—”
Izuna ignored her, having turned to Madara. He said, “The Masaki lands are between us and the Senju. Are you not worried that now there will be less of a buffer?”
Madara waved his hand dismissively, eyes still on the chattering crowd below. Technically, he should go preside over that and give his blessing once the proposal was made. But even he had heard of how much Hajime’s girl had been anticipating this. Undoubtedly she would take the time to dress up. He had time.
“Don’t worry about the Senju,” Madara said. “Not for this. That land was ours ten years ago. Hashirama agreed it was our right, and so they shall not interfere.”
“Hashirama is not yet clan head,” Izuna protested.
“Nor am I,” Madara replied, “but the day will come soon enough. We are both working to ensure that that day is mutually beneficial for both clans. Our future is bright, Little Brother.”
Karin’s eyes were darting back and forth between them both, her brows furrowed slightly. Despite her ridiculous mooning only seconds ago, her eyes looked sharp as she listened.
The mounting argument between brothers was stopped by the bride appearing at the edge of the square. Madara noted that Karin’s face swiveled in that direction a second before the crowd below recognized she was there at all.
A sensor, Madara thought as he stood. That was a useful skill, and not one that was common amongst Uchiha. A hosting clan would not send a guest onto the battlefield, but a sensor could be helpful to many sorts of tasks.
He dropped to the ground and stood silently at the back of the crowd as the girlfriend approached. She had indeed put on fresh make-up, and a genjutsu made her hair look impossibly glossy and her clothes brand new. Several illusionary doves fluttered around her. This was a frivolous use of genjutsu any adult present could undo on a whim, but no one would fault her. This was simply typical behavior of young people.
Hajime, despite the victory on the battlefield, was instantly made nervous by the presence of his girlfriend. He stuttered through his speech about slaying the fiercest foe for his woman, and then nearly dropped the tetsubo as he offered it to her.
The girl took it, then spun around, holding it over her head to show the crowd. They screamed in approval. Madara stepped forward.
“The proposal is accepted,” he announced, and cheers followed.
Perhaps at a time when the clan was not at war, real flowers might be on-hand. Instead, someone set a flurry of illusionary sakura blossoms as the couple linked arms and walked back to the girlfriend's house to formally speak to her parents. Her sisters followed, clapping and cheering.
Madara returned to the roof. Karin was patting at Izuna’s bicep, cooing at him over what sort of engagement gift he’d fetch.
“Oh~” she said. “But would I have to go get one?”
“Only if you’re an active kunoichi,” Izuna replied, flicking his eyes up and down her form in interest. Karin came to them seeking help, but she was also very obviously a working shinobi, or at least she was before she entered their care.
Karin blushed. Madara cleared his throat again.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “You’re not an Uchiha.”
Karin pouted up at him. Izuna shook his head.
“Brother, I want to hear more about these plans you made with your Senju friend about the Masaki lands,” Izuna said, standing. He winked down at Karin. “Karin, you should not go to bed so soon. Likely once the parents accept the offer, there will be drinks and food.”
They left her, retreating to Madara’s private room.
“I thought we let them have that land, to quell the fighting,” Izuna said, stressed. “This is what Father explained to me not but a few months ago.”
Madra shook his head. “Perhaps that was the strategy that he chose. But Hashirama and I will see these two clans to an alliance, and he has told me that he is to become Clan Head upon a marriage that is already being arranged. Reclaiming our territories will only benefit the clan.”
“But…” Izuna hedged. He crossed his arms, frowning down at his own feet.
Madara reached forward, clapping his hand on Izuna’s shoulder. It was easy, on a kind day like today, to assure Izuna that everything would be fine and that Hashirama could single-handedly change his otherwise traitorous clan.
Later, upon hearing a ruckus outside, they went out to join the celebration. The clan was at the end of their winter provisions and so the food was sparse, but Hajime’s parents proudly presented a barrel of homemade rice wine.
Karin somehow appeared at Izuna’s elbow the second he stepped outside.
“Maa, you should introduce me to people,” she said, looping her arm through his arm. “I don’t know anyone, and I’m shy.”
Izuna shot Madara a bemused look before allowing himself to be dragged off. Madara glared after them. Perhaps the woman would be useful, but it was seeming more likely that she’d just be annoying.
Madara gathered himself a cup of wine and then retreated to his roof to watch the party alone.
If only Hashirama were a woman, he thought, eyeing the couple’s parents laugh and converse amongst themselves. Then I could cut off a tail of the Fox Demon for him and demand he be my woman, and our clans would unite. No other clan would dare do war against such an alliance, and we would have peace.