Chapter 3
It’s barely a minute after the snake leaves for the tenth, hundredth time that Tobirama appears again, agitated and grasping at Madara’s hand instead of the IV.
“They’re coming.” Tobirama says, as if this means something very important to him.
“That’s nice.” Madara says, ignoring the feel of liquid dripping through his fingers. He’s gotten surprisingly good at it.
“They’re coming.” Tobirama insists.
His hand reaches for Madara’s eyes, but the ingrained flinch response doesn’t show. Instead bloody hands trace the wounds in Madara’s face, tapping beneath the not yet dead orbs. For once Tobirama’s agitation doesn’t bring grief or guilt though, instead a sense of ‘this is right, this will be right, and if it isn’t, then there’s no change at all’. It’s not as unpleasant as it could have been, not as stimulated. Dulled down as Madara is, not much is stimulating these days.
Tobirama frowns, glancing around at the room as if searching for someone, muttering that they were coming again and again all the while.
Combined with the emotions still creeping through him, Madara isn’t sure he likes the sound of that.
“Who’re they?” He slurs, grimacing and glaring at the drugs still pumping into him. It’s very unnecessary.
With the chakra seal tags it’s not like he’s going anywhere even if they do give him his mind back. Days, or weeks, or however long it’s been in the half haze Madara lives in. It’s far too long to be so lost.
“They’re coming!” Tobirama insists, and Madara discards his anger, easy with the cloud, smiling as he reaches out to pat Tobirama’s hand.
It doesn’t really work, only smearing more blood in between his fingers, but it’s the thought that counts.
“Alright.” He agrees, closing his eyes.
He’s not sure he wants them to come. Tobirama’s acquaintances tend to be dead children, and that’s an unpleasant sight for all ages. He laughs a little at that thought. He’s pretty sure his sense of humour has always been skewed, but he doesn’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing. In present company it definitely isn’t.
His eyes are closed, but he notices when Tobirama disappears. He definitely notices when the wall caves in.
Jerking to what passes for consciousness these days, Madara stares at where the door and a good portion of the wall used to be. A shining golden chain slithers back into the hole, and Naruto steps into the room, closely followed by the massive blade that heralds Sakura.
“Hello.” Madara greets, watching as the two scramble over to his bed, both echoing his name in relief.
“Hello! You’re gone for- and all you have to say is hello?” Sakura snaps, and oh dear, that’s her angry upset voice that she only gets when she’s worried for them but too upset to show it. At least it wasn’t his fault this time.
“Let’s get you unhooked.” Naruto chooses the path of least resistance, deftly moving out of Sakura’s way as he tugs and prods at the IV.
“You’re removing it wrong.” Sakura predictably snaps, and wow, Naruto really must be upset too if he didn’t see that coming. Between the two of them they have some medical knowledge, but Sakura’s definitely the one who’s kept them alive.
There’s a slight pinch at the back of his hand, and he lets out a small protesting ow. It’s a breath of fresh air. He knows it’ll take time for whatever’s in him to leave, he’ll have to go to the hospital, absolutely, but even just with that little bit out metal out of his body, the relief is immense.
“How’s Izuna?” He asks when he thinks he can talk again, relaxing into the feeling of the cuffs coming off and motion being restored.
“Izuna’s fine. He’s missing you, but he’s with your parents, and Shisui is there too. He’s well protected.” Naruto answered immediately, moving Madara’s head to get at his neck. The tag there tugs when Naruto does something to it, and he curses lowly. “This kind comes in threes.” The grimace isn’t hopeful. “I’m going to have to leave these on. I betting you’ve had them since you were captured, and with this kind of block your system won’t react well after so long without chakra.”
Madara frowns, but tilts his head in acceptance. Or maybe in exhaustion, as it’s rather hard to lift again.
“How long I’ve been gone?” That sentence isn’t quite right, but he figures they’ll still understand.
“Too long.” Sakura is the one to reply, and from the look on their faces he knows he’s not going to like the answer when it comes. Ah well, he can wait.
All too sudden he’s on his feet, an arm around his back and spirals in his head. He thinks he might like to go back to the bed, but a glance at it reassures him that he was correct in his initial judgement, and it should not be considered a bed. His back hurts somewhere distant. He’s pretty sure he’s going to ache for days. Really, doing freakish experiments on people, yet not even giving them the decency of giving them a nice bed in return? It’s positively rude.
“Let’s get you out of here.” Naruto says, shifting Madara to rest more comfortably on his teammate and then following behind Sakura.
The base outside his room is a mess, a bloody disaster. And considering how organized his room was always kept he doesn’t think it’s the way it usually is. The dead bodies and scattered fighting shinobi backs that observation.
They head towards an opening the roof at the far side of the room, and only once are stopped, paused by an unaffiliated shinobi who quickly meets their end on Sakura’s sword. Beside him Kurama’s chakra burns, Naruto ready to leap up in defence in case Sakura needs it. They both know she won’t, but his teammates have always been self-sacrificing when protecting something.
“Come on.” Naruto grunts, then they skid to a halt in front of the hole, staring up into the sky where a giant summon screams and withers, going up against an equally giant toad with all its might.
“Alright, option B then.” Sakura decides decisively, and they head off again in a different direction.
Madara’s content to let it happen. He should probably be more active in his rescue, but simply can’t find the energy. It’s far too much work, all of it. And if Izuna is fine, if Naruto and Sakura are really here, then he doesn’t need to do anything. They’ll fix it, whatever it is. Or, at least, that’s what he thinks until they get to the end of yet another corridor, more blood on Sakura’s sword ad walls still falling from the backlash of Naruto’s chakra chains.
It’s just a glimpse into a side room, barely more than a second, but it’s enough.
Tobirama stands there, a cruelly satisfied smile on his face. At his feet lies the remains of a man Madara grew all too familiar with during his stay in captivity. Water spills from Danzō’s mouth and the hole in his side, pooling on the floor and lapping at the walls. For the gruesome nature of his death, there’s very little blood.
They’re already moving on, but in that tiny window of time Tobirama meets Madara’s eyes. His sharingan tries to activate on reflex, there’s a wall, a push, and a ringing pop that blows through Madara’s head like a gong. For a moment the world is outlined in clear relief, chakra and life and death and everything painted out in twining lines, and then there’s nothing.
This time when he wakes it’s gradual, a slow progression in which his mind works and his thoughts connect, but allowing for time in case they don’t. He tries to open his eyes, but there’s something covering them, like a bandage or cloth. For a second he tenses, but Sakura’s voice breaks through instantly.
“Don’t remove them, they’re for your own good.”
Well that’s not comforting at all.
“Your eyes are purple now aniki!” Izuna. That’s Izuna. And if both Sakura and Izuna are here, and yes, there’s Naruto’s burning chakra close enough to touch, and if they’re all there, than that means he got out and all is well.
“I’m in Konoha?” He asks still, just to be sure, one hand reaching for where Izuna’s voice had come from, where his chakra is. It’s surprisingly easy to find, more so even than usual.
“We got you out yesterday midday. It’s late evening now. Danzō’s dead.” Naruto lays out the important points, and there’s carefully wry amusement in his voice as he adds, “And yes, your eyes are purple, which is why they’re wrapped up.”
“Huh.” Madara says, wondering what to think about that.
It’s certainly good to hear that Danzō’s dead, but he already knew that. The bastard got what was coming to him, and he’s pretty sure Tobirama helped with that. Something happening to his eyes though, that’s new, and wholly worrisome.
On one hand, an Uchiha without their eyes isn’t an Uchiha at all. It’s their prized dōjutsu, the main point of pride in their clan, but on the other hand, well, Izuna’s hand has just been caught in his own, and he can’t give into panic while Izuna’s there—not to mention that the panic isn’t there, even when he reaches for it. Still, wherever the emotion is, Madara panicking would make Izuna panic, and there’s already the salty tang of tears in the air. Given that Naruto only believes in crying over ramen and Sakura only cries around funerals and the off occasion where she’s too happy to deal, it must be Izuna.
“Come here.” He murmurs along this vein of thought, pulling the small familiar hand towards him.
There’s a sniffle, and then 16 kilograms of unhappy baby brother hoists itself onto Madara’s side, Izuna smashing his face into Madara’s neck and staying there to sniff quietly, soaking a wet patch in the fabric under his head. Wrapping his arms around his brother, Madara breaths. He should be feeling more than this, he thinks distantly. Sure, he’s relieved and happy because Izuna’s there again, but the personal relief and anger just aren’t there.
“Can I still see?” He asks after a while, shifting Izuna a bit so he’s more comfortable.
There’s a good sized hesitation, but then Sakura sighs. “You’ll just try and take it off yourself and end up wrecking your bandages, won’t you.”
“Obviously.” Madara agrees.
A finger lightly flicks his forehead and he frowns, but obediently stills as hands deftly unwrap the bandages from around his head. “Just don’t irritate them or pull your stiches. You’re lucky there wasn’t anything physically irreparable.”
“Other than the color I imagine.” Madara muses, uncertain if he manages the smile on his lips to soften the blow.
Once the bandages are off it takes a moment to muster up the courage to open his yes, in case he does and can’t see—oh, there’s the panic, worry, maybe, still not as strong as it should be—but he reminds himself that it’s going to have to happen sooner or later, and goes for it.
Izuna’s staring at him, eyes red from crying and wide with amazement. Madara stares back at him.
He can see Izuna’s chakra. Not in the way he used to with his paltry sensor abilities, but really see it. See the flows and turns, where it gathers and moves. He can feel that Izuna is alive, knows that he is, and doesn’t understand why it’s so obviously prevalent. There’s too much sensory input, too much, and Sakura and Naruto are there too, and they’re alive, and Kurama’s there, holy shi-crap Kurama.
It’s too much feedback, and his eyes snap shut of their own accord.
“Madara?” Sakura asks cautiously.
“I can see. It’s okay. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.”
It’s really not, but he doesn’t think he can figure it out right now. It’s only just sinking in that he’s spend the last however long it was captive and subject to experiments with his eyes and sharingan, but the right emotions still aren’t coming with that knowledge. He blindly grabs the back of Izuna’s head, drawing him back in and resting his forehead on his brother’s hair. Sakura and Naruto have the decency to talk lowly amongst themselves, giving Madara a moment to try and gather himself. He has questions for them, but he can’t ask right now.
Not when his mind is still rapid-fire going through everything that happened, what he saw, what Tobirama showed him, what was done to him. He needs to find out how long he was gone, but he’s not sure he wants to know.
He’s not sure he came back right.
Things are clearer, but they don’t feel like they did before. It’s not the same, and he doesn’t think it’s just because of whatever’s been done to his eyes. Hopefully it’s just the after affects, the trauma and his body reacting to being drugged for so long. Hopefully it’ll pass.
The smell of iron cuts into his worries, and Madara stills.
“Can someone turn down the lights?” He asks, knowing he has to look, to see again, but also that the light’s too harsh for him to keep his strange new eyes open for as long as he’ll want.
Naruto murmurs a soft affirmative, and the lights dim.
Careful not to disturb the others, to give Naruto time to sit and be pulled into conversation again, Madara braces himself and opens his eyes to thin slits. Sure enough, a white haired man stands next to the bed, unnoticed by anyone else in the room.
There’s no blood on his hands this time, no grief or guilt permeating from him like blood in the air. Given that Danzō was once his student there probably should be even a small bit of sorrow on his face, but Madara is unsurprised to only find satisfaction.
This time, Madara doesn’t scream.
Tobirama still smiles though.
Outside the hospital, dead white branches sway in the wind, reaching up towards the windows as if stopped halfway through trying to crawl in. They shiver with a particularly strong gust, then still as an arm reaches over to close the curtains. Another gust blows, but this time the branches are as motionless and unyielding as stone. The bright near blinding light flooding the room previously would’ve made it out to give them shadows, but the warm glow that replaced it barely reaches through the curtains. Gentle laughter filters out from the room, infused with relief and joy. The branches shiver again, though this time there’s no wind to move them.
A second later, and they’re gone.