Note: wouldn't leave you guys like that ;)

Epilogue

When the Uchiha lost their heir, there was outrage.

There was outrage; and then, silence.

People forget about Senbi. People forgot about Kazama. In no less than a week, they'd been erased from the records. For the sake of peace, the clan was willing to forget the transgression. For the sake of peace, they were willing to turn on the one man who dedicated his life to saving them. Leading them.

Madara's initial plan involved killing the elders and burning the Uchiha to the ground. But he was not so cold as to murder the innocent in cold blood, especially since they hadn't all been complicit, just unaware. He decided to give them a chance to redeem themselves. Together, they would destroy the corrupted seed that ran deep in Konoha. They would do to the Senju what they had done to him.

So he rallied his best men. Asked them to fight by his side once again. Asked them to help him create a new world.

Lock up the elders, defeat Hashirama and run Konoha the way it should be run.

They turned their backs on him.

They abandoned him.

They let go of their convictions.

Only then did he learn his power had waned. His people had families to care for. They lived their quiet, unobtrusive lives with certainty and they were unwilling to give it up.

So Madara did the only thing he could do.

He departed.

He cremated Kazama's body as a preventative measure, knowing that his enemies lived far and wide. For Senbi, he buried her miles outside Konoha, on a hillside by an abandoned Shinto shrine. He told no one of her location, not even her extended family. The only one who knew was Chizuru, who came now and again to bring fresh flowers.

Madara mourned for two weeks before he made his decision.

He would burn the entire village to ash.

"Do you understand now?"

Sasuke stared blankly at the wall of the cave. He'd been tied up and strapped up against one of the pillars that emerged from the bedrock. The candles around him flickered as the wind sifted through the entrance. His arms were beginning to go numb, his lower back was sore and there was a crook in his neck he couldn't quite iron out. His head was pulsing with pain.

Tobi leaned against the wall, fidgeting with the curves in his mask.

This was the first time he recounted the story aloud and he was almost sure this would be the last.

"You're going to help me find her," he said.

Sasuke narrowed his gaze, shifting his eyes to Tobi, "You really think her reincarnation exists?"

Tobi shook his head, "I don't think. I know."

The young shinobi resisted the urge to scoff, "And how exactly do you expect me help you?"

"Because you know exactly who she is," he said.

Again, Sasuke was stumped. And irritated. And numb.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You do, actually," Tobi said, taking a seat on the ground.

"Because your brother was her protector."

When Madara was brought back to life with the impure resurrection, he felt alive in ways he'd never been before. Anger pulsed through him and venom dripped with every word he said. Kabuto may have thought he was pulling the strings, but the truth is, Madara was the true puppeteer. Sure, he hadn't been brought back the way he expected, but it was a minor inconvenience in the grand scale of things.

Eventually, when he was fully revived in flesh, blood and bones, he realized the world would answer at his whim.

He was living his fullest, feeling the rush of war roll through him like waves in a ocean. Bodies fell left and right, broken and battered in a spectrum of blues and red. The shinobi were weaker this generation; this was no more evident as he swatted away the annoying sand shinobi with the tattoo on his face and his counterpart, the woman with the giant, obnoxious fan.

Just as he was choking the life out of another faceless ninja, he saw her.

In the distance, he saw her.

Long black hair framed her pale white face. Her eyes were black and wide, almost dollish. Her frame was small, though she was taller than he'd remembered. She was wearing a medical uniform. She was giving blood to an ally, tethered together with a plastic tube. Her forehead protector was missing, which was probably why she stuck out to him.

Madara blinked.

It took him only two seconds to reappear in front of her and discard the man she was giving blood to. She let out a yelp as the needle tugged roughly on her skin.

Time stood still. And even as shinobi clamored around him, it took only a wave of his hand for them to fly back into the distance. She looked tempted to run, but she remained still and met his gaze with certainty. Her eyes were clear and unclouded, and Madara could almost see his reflection in them. It was only then that he noticed she was bleeding out on the ground.

He reached a hand out.

She flinched and shut her eyes tightly.

He paused a moment before brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear.

She opened her eyes again, staring at him with great confusion.

How could he explain, after all this time, that he'd been waiting over a hundred years for her return? How could he explain, after all this time, how much he loved her so deeply and so profoundly? How could he explain, after all this time, that he'd died madly in love with her and awakened madly in love with her? That his love had transcended endless generations and time?

How could he explain that she was the spitting image of her past incarnation?

(He couldn't explain because she wasn't her.)

She opened her mouth to say something, but paused.

Madara could sense it too.

They were preparing another attack behind his back. The village idiot with the spiky blonde hair and the obscene orange jumpsuit. He was probably leading the charge again. It was futile, of course. They were just prolonging the inevitable.

Madara took a step back.

So she might not be the woman he once knew. Perhaps he was being ridiculous. Perhaps it was as simple as it seemed.

In the end, she was just a doppelganger.

Reincarnation? It was insane.

Even Madara had trouble believing in it. The only reason he held out on the hope was because the woman he loved believed in it.

Believed in him.

He chewed on his lower lip, clinking a single plate of armor in his shoulder pad back into place. He was very much aware that he'd been staring at her for minutes now (and minutes could feel like hours on the battlefield). He would draw a line in the sand now. She was an enemy and the war was very much still real. It didn't matter if she had the same eyes as Senbi.

He activated his sharingan.

"You look stupid," she said, suddenly.

And pause.

The corners of Madara's lips lifted to form the faintest smile.

Sequel: On Bloody Sundays

Note: Yes, there's a sequel! You can find it on my page.

And yes...I was always going to write an epilogue to this. Again, thank you all for sticking with this. This is the fifth or sixth incarnation of this story and I feel at rest with it. It's undergone so many rewrites and yes there are still parts that I'd change in retrospect, but all in all, I think I've progressed a lot as a writer and matured a bunch since I started.

I'll answer any questions you have in the next chapter of On Bloody Sundays. :) I enjoyed doing that in the past and I think I'll have more time to do that now.

I'll miss this story a lot, as I truly loved Senbi...and I always wanted to read a story that humanized Madara without the gratuitous rape scenes and ridiculous OC-falls-in-love-even-though-he's-physically-and-emotionally-violent-and-condescending-towards-her (sorry not sorry). I always wanted to read a story where Madara eventually came eye-to-eye with his love interest and showed a level of respect to someone who changed him to his core. And not just respect, but respect to let them do what they want. To show enough respect to change for the better.

And in the beginning of the story, I fell into a lot of those shitty tropes because I felt like that was what would get me "popular." But after I took a break (I think almost a two-year hiatus?) I came back with a renewed sense of inspiration. And closure.

Because (and I can't explain why) this story was near and dear to my heart. And I don't care if it was Fanfiction or not. It mattered to me because Senbi always felt real to me. And I hope her change inspires someone out there to speak up. She came from nothing and she became something.

Sorry if this train of thought comes across random but, you know, it is what it is. Life is messy.

Thank you for sticking with the journey.

See you guys in the next one. Let's keep kicking ass.