AN: …hiiiiii… remember me? No? It's ok, I don't either. Here is the long (longlonglonglongloooong) awaited part two of Doubt(ful). It's also the longest chapter to date, at over 11k words. Please keep in mind that my writing is 99% subtext and foreshadowing. There will be links to some fanart at the bottom of the chapter. Also, you're probably gonna want to go and reread the end of the last chapter, at least, since this continues directly from that. Now, without further ado, here is...

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Doubt(ful) (Part II)

The words hit Madara like sledgehammer. All of his insecurities, all of his speculation had been true. Kakashi didn't want him. Worse, Kakashi wanted Tatsumi. The weight of that heartbreak hit him with an intensity Madara had not been expecting.

Suddenly, things Madara hadn't even known he wanted were gone—impossibilities where there had once been 'what ifs,' and 'maybes,' or no conscious thought at all, just an innate feeling. Lazy mornings holding each other in bed—gone. Late nights, exhausted first from sparring, and then from sparring—just a dream. Knowing glances, desperate kisses, cold nights made warm by the company, simple meals shared in their home—their home—where they fought and made up and… and… and… in their place…

Tatsumi's teasing smile bringing a beguiling flush to the tips of Kakashi's ears, only for turnabout to dust her cheeks in an equally alluring pink. Family get-togethers watching Tatsumi and Kakashi snuggle up in dark corners, or sitting across the table—so far, so far across the table—while Kakashi handfed Tatsumi a bite of dessert, her licking at his fingers, him chasing the food with a kiss, nibbling at her lips, whispering how he didn't mind the sweetness when it was served on her tongue. Tatsumi dressed in the heirloom Uchiha wedding kimono, kneeling next to Kakashi—adorned in the Senju wedding finery—while Madara played the role of father in the Shinto wedding ceremony to bind their lives together. Coming by Tatsumi's office during her 'nap time' only to find Michika outside, the sounds of Kakashi and Tatsumi making love spilling from an open window… perhaps even catching a glance of Kakashi's back, his taut ass flexing with each thrust, Tatsumi's feet locked around his torso, her nails leaving red trails on his flesh, her name on his tongue instead of… instead of...

Madara was light-headed, and felt completely separated from his body. He would have drowned under the ache and the unrelenting nightmare, or perhaps floated away, adrift, if it weren't for a pair of hands anchoring him to reality. Hands that were squeezing his harder and harder—bones beginning to grind together, nails biting into his flesh—the longer he just stood there like a dumbass.

It seemed strangely familiar.

A sudden memory broke through Madara's rumination, of secret plans made in the darkest depth of the forest where no one was around to hear or see them. It was almost impossible to keep secrets in a ninja household, even more so when one's father was Uchiha Tajima. Hand signs were easily decipherable, especially with the Sharingan's ability to see even the slightest of movements. So, as children, they had cooked up a code, Madara, his siblings, and the Tatsu-twins. If the speaker made physical contact while talking, it meant that whatever was being said was a lie, one that the listener was being asked to go along with, without question. The truth could be exposed later, in private, when adult eyes were not watching, and getting into trouble wasn't imminent.

It had been years since someone had used that code with Madara; their parents were all dead, they were all adults, and Madara was Clan Head—what did he have to worry about? He hadn't used the code much, himself; Izuna was the one always getting into trouble in their youth, and Madara's position as heir meant the others tried to keep him out of their schemes when they could. Madara couldn't afford to break the rules like the other's did; he was held to much stricter standards, and his punishments were often harsher.

As such, Madara hadn't clued in when Tatsumi first gripped his hands. Even before he saw her, even before she delivered that heartbreaking lie, Madara had been trapped in toxic thoughts, spiralling deeper and deeper into a despair of his own making. It was the pain from Tatsumi's tightening grip that snapped him out of it and finally grabbed his attention. It also made him aware of one very important detail.

Under the weight of believing his shot with Kakashi was gone, Madara hadn't been paying attention—not since he began receiving reports of Kakashi and Tatsumi's potential courtship from his clanspeople. If he had been, he would have noticed that Makami—that twice damned, paranoid veteran—had clandestinely followed him to the compound.

It wasn't safe to be discussing Kakashi in the open. The Sharingan could read lips, so it didn't matter how quietly they spoke. Madara suddenly realised that Tatsumi hadn't hidden her mouth behind her shirt collar when she teased him to be coy, but because she was trying to prevent Makami from reading her lips. It would be suspicious to carry on a conversation that way, however. Madara suddenly wished he and Tatsumi had chosen to adopt Kakashi's fashion habits, as that would have given them a much needed layer of privacy, and a benign excuse to keep things under wraps.

Madara concentrated, opening his senses. While he couldn't sense people by infusing chakra like Tobirama could, the Uchiha had other ways of detecting another's presence. While it was too suspicious to turn his Sharingan on while another Sharingan was observing him—the flash of chakra would be glaringly obvious to anyone with that particular doujutsu activated—Madara was not an elite ninja simply because he mastered his clan's kekkei genkai.

Four o'clock. The crunch of a foot on bark. Shallow breathing. Makami.

Recovering now that he was aware of what was going on, Madara affected a scolding mien, putting on a show for the Uchiha hiding on the edges of his awareness.

"Oh?" Only Madara could fill a single syllable with so much snark. "And just who gave him permission for that?"

Tatsumi removed her hands from Madara's own in order to cross her arms, looking down her nose at him haughtily. "I'm the Head of my Branch of the family, Madara. I don't need anyone's permission to accept an offer of courtship."

"You may be a Branch Head, but I am your Clan Head. And in my absence, Izuna is in charge—"

"This is not a matter for the Clan Head—"

"Oh, but it is when it involves you, sweet imouto. You know what the Elders—"

"Stuff the Elders!"

"Tatsumi!" he reprimanded, and Tatsumi had the decency to look properly chastised. "You know what the Elders have planned for you," he finished more quietly.

Tatsumi sighed and nodded, brushing some of her hair back. "And what they have planned for you?"

Oh, the Elders and their limitless, meddlesome plans. It was unfortunate that the Clan put so much faith in the Elders' insight. Their ideas were traditionalist to the extreme, rooted in the old ways. But the Uchiha Clan wasn't a mercenary clan anymore, it was part of the first Ninja Village, working specifically under the Fire Daimyou. Things were different now. Being a part of a village made up of many clans, there was a greater need for compromise and comradery. Even Madara himself, a part of the younger generation, had to remind himself at times that things had changed.

The Elders' designs were set for putting the Uchiha above the rest, guaranteeing the Clan's superiority. But being the strongest, having the most power—those were antiquated ideas of superiority. The Senju Clan was thriving because they established amiable alliances, fortifying those relationships by binding them in friendships. It was Hashirama's branch of friendship which started their village in the first place, stopping their feud and thus the conflict warring between them, and was the reason why the Land of Fire was seen by outsiders as such a threat.

Madara knew, if he were to ensure the strength and legacy of his clan, he would need to do the same. In theory, a relationship between Tatsumi and Kakashi would be beneficial; connecting the Uchiha and the Senju—even an adopted one—would guarantee an Uchiha voice was always heard amongst the Senju, and thus the village Hashirama now ruled. Of course, another Uchiha could easily fit that spot…

But that had nothing to do with this ruse they needed to paint for Makami and his paranoia. In order to appease Makami, so far gone in his delusions as he was, Madara would have to be a ninja and not a politician. At least in public. And so a very familiar lie passed his lips.

"The Elders are wise, and I always take their input into account when making my decisions."

It took all of Tatsumi's willpower to stop herself from laughing. How many times had Madara cursed the Elders, for their meddling, their 'plans,' and their existence in general? But 'oh no, what about the sacred Elders?!' was a skit they had far too much experience playing.

Whenever they could, Izuna and Tatsumi took the brunt of the blame (in public, at least) for Madara's disagreements with the Elders. It was just to save face—the Elders themselves knew what Madara was like—but no one spoke of it. If there was one thing the Uchiha were known for, it was their penchant for illusions—genjutsu or otherwise.

From the branches of the tree he was hiding in, Makami unconsciously nodded in approval.

Tatsumi sighed, looking away from Madara, one arm across her stomach and the other brushing though her hair.

"It's nothing official, niichan. And who knows if it will go anywhere." Tatsumi's eyes flicked back to his, her lips quirking up on one side into a slight smirk. "Hashirama-sama sent him to make sure I was fulfilling my part of the Uchiha Clan's 'Inter-Village Bonding'"—her hands formed air quotes as her eyebrows rose sarcastically—"requirements. He's to monitor my interactions with the Inuzuka for the next few weeks. This, of course, is need to know. As for our relationship… we just…" she trailed off, shrugging as she looked for the right words, "get along. Surprisingly. But I'm an Uchiha before I'm a woman. I know what my Clan requires of me."

Madara answered with a "Hn," of approval and a curt nod of his head.

Uchiha had a knack for lies and deception—outside of their genjutsu skills—but Tatsumi had always been particularly crafty. One wouldn't think it of her at first; her personality was playful at best, and mocking at worst. But most people didn't realise both of those fell under the category of mischief, and mischief could be just as benign as it was dangerous. Not for the first time, Madara was glad Tatsumi loved him. An Uchiha's love—in any form—was unflinching and everlasting. An Uchiha would do a great many horrible things for love. It was best not to test that bond.

'I shouldn't have doubted her intentions even for a moment,' Madara found himself thinking. While he was off worrying, she was crafting an intricate ruse for them all to hide behind. But there were still holes in her explanation. It was counter-intuitive to bring those things up, but with their audience still in attendance, there was no helping it. Madara would just have to trust that she had a satisfying answer.

"You're only scheduled to be here once a week, imouto." Madara chose to call her 'sister' to remind Makami just how close the cousins were. It would have one of two effects; either Makami would become more suspicious, thinking that Madara was blinded by bias, or he would back off, realising that it was not safe for him to be questioning the loyalty of one Madara held in such high regard. It was hard to tell which way paranoia would take Makami, but it was also a declaration of loyalty. Madara was not afraid to let anyone know that messing with his younger siblings—whether they shared parents or not—would bring down all of his (exceptional) wrath.

"After our first visit, Kakashi-san noted that some of the ninken appeared to be in rough shape," she replied, answering his implied question. "He insinuated that I wasn't doing all that I could for the Inuzuka. I decided to increase the number of visits, to expedite both the checkups and the completion of their tutelage." Tatsumi smirked, her next sentence meant especially for Makami. "The Inuzuka vets are not learning as fast as I anticipated, even though I quadrupled the amount of time it would take me to teach an Uchiha medic."

Madara's answering smirk was half at Tatsumi's cunning and half in pride; the Uchiha truly were the best at everything… or, at least, they thought so. It was a weakness that could be exploited laughingly easily, especially with the older generations.

Up in different tree—as to keep 'them' from locking in on his position—Makami smirked in approval.

Tatsumi continued, fanning the fire, "I'm still trying to find a balance between my expectations and their ability. I'll probably have to spread the lessons out a bit more, over time. It seems that I'm overwhelming them with information. But until I check over all the ninken, I want to be here every other day."

"And will Kakashi be present at all these lessons?"

"For the foreseeable future, yes." Tatsumi smiled, then asked, innocently, "Is that a problem?"

Madara just stared at her for a moment, as if evaluating her for any deception or ulterior motive. In truth, he was stretching out his senses, trying to pin down Makami's current location. He found the paranoid veteran hiding in a bush, slightly behind Tatsumi and to the left—Madara's eleven o'clock.

This was not ideal. The next question Madara planned to ask was one he was burning to know the answer to. Whether or not the answer was truthful, and whether Madara could keep his face straight was another issue. Madara silently damned Kakashi and his ability to make all of Madara's practiced discipline fly out the window. He should have never come to the Inuzuka compound.

"And why has he been… assisting you, so… closely, with the ninken?" Madara silently thanked his ancestors for the ability to pose the question without choking up. And then he cursed them for damning him with this blasted possessiveness. Madara could remember how his stoic father would snap when someone came too close to his mother. And the way Izuna continually sabotaged—ah but it would do no good to get lost in memories.

Tatsumi—in tune to his inner struggle and still playing her role to perfection—smirked, the look clearly spelling Mischief with a capital M.

"Well, if I have to work overtime, then he should too, wouldn't you agree?" The pleasure in her eyes was unmistakable, although the intensity seemed to outweigh the value of her words. Something else was going on here, but Madara didn't know what.

Tatsumi's plans could lead one to glory or the inferno—although sometimes that meant the same thing. Madara was immediately wary, but he didn't let that bleed into his posture. This was still an act, and he still had a role to play. Whatever ulterior motive Tatsumi had for bringing Kakashi around, it would just have to wait until later. Madara—who was only ever religious in the presence of his unpredictable cousin—prayed that this ever-more complicated ruse wouldn't end in disaster.

So instead of scrunching his brows and leveling her with a scrutinizing look, he smirked, as if pleased with her subtle sadism. "How… generous of you, sweet imouto." He even chuckled for effect.

Tatsumi tried very hard not to laugh; it occurred to her that, in another universe, Madara would play the perfect villain. It was a good thing he had her, Izuna, and now Kakashi, to keep him in line.

"But explain this," Madara began, as his smile turned sharp. Unfortunately, even though he knew the answer was innocent, he didn't have to fake the suspicion. "What has Kakashi been doing all this time, in your office? Do you not think it dangerous for the Senju to be so close to the Sharingan's secrets—their Keeper, even?"

"I know the Laws, Madara," Tatsumi scoffed, raising an indignant eyebrow. She didn't have to fake her offense at such an accusation. "Do you really think I would give anything away?"

"You didn't answer my question."

Tatsumi folded her arms, her head tilted up and to the side. It was the Uchiha equivalent of rolling one's eyes. But while Tatsumi often got away with signs of disrespect in private, this was public, and Madara could not allow it. Swiftly, but careful not to hurt her, Madara took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning her head sharply to face him. He moved closer, crowding her space, using his height and broader frame to loom over her.

Tatsumi uncrossed her arms, letting them fall limply to her sides, and affected the look of one properly chastised. Her eyes were focused on his feet, so Madara gently shook her chin to bring her gaze to his. Tatsumi sighed, locking their eyes, but took her time to answer.

"He's good company, Madara. That's all. He's… he's witty, he's so… calm. And steady. He reminds me a bit of… of…" Tatsumi's eyes squeezed shut when she couldn't finish the sentence.

Understanding what she couldn't say, but confused, Madara pressed on. "Kakashi is far more relaxed than Tatsuki ever was."

"Only in front of others. Tatsuki knew what was expected of him, and he played the role perfectly. I think only Asha and I ever truly knew him…"

There was a pregnant pause, which always followed when Tatsumi mentioned her deceased twin brother. Her grief was no secret amongst the Uchiha Clan, or the fact that she chose to isolate herself from everyone except for her sister-in-law Asha, her niece Michika, and Izuna (although the latter was not by choice—Izuna wouldn't butt out of her life no matter how much Tatsumi ignored him). Part of the scandal of seeing Kakashi with an Uchiha was that it was Tatsumi, not just for her skills as an ophthalmologist, but because she had become somewhat of a recluse.

Makami, from behind a broken log, felt rightfully ashamed at bringing up such a painful memory for his clanswoman.

"Kikkun and Kakashi-san have many differences, to be sure," Tatsumi added, using her old nickname for her brother in order to pour on the sentiment—she was not above using any means necessary to get any ruse across, even if it meant using her dead twin in her alibi. She knew that Tatsuki, if he could watch from beyond the grave, would be glad that he could still help her—even if it was for something as petty as an attempt to garner pity in order to misdirect a nosy Uchiha. He'd probably even find it funny. "But, if you knew Kikkun as I do"—not did, because while Tatsuki might be dead, he was still with her, even if just in memories—"you would see the similarities."

Madara's hand had dropped back to his side by this point, and he got the strange feeling that Tatsumi was trying to tell him something, but he just couldn't figure out what.

"Even Asha likes him, niichan." This was a feat, because Asha had only liked three people in her life; her late-husband, her daughter, and her sister-in-law. "Not only does he know sign language—on top of the Senju code, and the new Konoha code—but he's an engineering genius. Did you know, he can fix an oven so that it lights without a match?"

Madara vaguely recalled Hashirama bragging about his self-lighting oven, and brushing that off as nonsense. What did Madara know about ovens, anyways? He never cooked. However, it seemed that this was both uncommon and highly desirable. But what was Kakashi doing, going around making modifications to people's ovens? He was a ninja, not a mechanic…

"He also fixed the leaky tap in Asha's laundry room, the three shorted pot lights in my back office, the uneven cupboard door under my sink, and he's coming by Asha's to help us paint Michika's room orange, of all the garish colours. She's too old for pink now, apparently, and she's been complaining about it for months."

Madara continued to stare, stunned, at what Kakashi was doing for Tatsumi and her small family. It seemed that Kakashi truly could not let a debt go unpaid—even if that debt was owed by order of her Clan Head. It did provide a great alibi, however.

Tatsumi looked up at him coyly though her dark lashes, adding with a small, but undeniably mischievous smile, "You would be surprised at what lies underneath the underneath."

Madara was not sure if that was an innuendo, but he was suddenly overtaken with the image of Kakashi, bare except for his damned mask, lying supine on Madara's futon, Kakashi teasingly tracing one hand down his own chest, over his taut stomach to the to the faint trail of coarse silvery hair—

This was not the time to be thinking about that.

Madara cleared his throat, affecting a stern mien once more. "Not only are you letting him into your office, but your home, and Asha's as well? Did you ever think that all this closeness was in order to steal the secrets of the Sharingan?"

This time Tatsumi actually scoffed.

"Madara," she started, a hint of derision in her voice, "you know I don't keep written records." She tapped her temple in emphasis. "Plus, the information he would be seeking is either nowhere near my residence, or doesn't exist. You don't truly think he could fix a Sharingan, the most sophisticated doujutsu to ever exist, by watching me preform the most basic eye examinations on ninken, of all things. They're not even human! Only an idiot would try to use what I'm teaching the Inuzuka for their ninken on a human eye!"

From his new tree, Makami blushed in a strange combination of anger and embarrassment.

"He could certainly try, of course," Tatsumi added. "But all he would be able to do is check for cataracts, far- and nearsightedness, how to drain fluid buildup, in addition to learning our more efficient method for reducing inflammation—which he could learn from even beginner iryou-nin. In fact, Hashirama-sama could probably do that for him—I show these techniques to him first, after all. So unless you're going to accuse me of… of… treason, then I don't see what the issue is." Tatsumi locked eyes with Madara, almost daring him to lay down such charges and put her in shackles.

"Hn," was Madara's only response. He had to admit, Tatsumi had weaved not just a believable lie, but a fantastic illusion. Where one might poke holes, she had erected defences in the form of barbs or flattery. She had really gone above and beyond for this entire ruse, and while Madara wanted to attribute that to Tatsumi's love for him, he couldn't help the part of his mind that whispered that it was her love for another. Kakashi did seem to benefit the most from this entire situation, and there was still the issue of why Kakashi would make his way to Tatsumi's practice without someone dragging him there.

Although the idea that Tatsumi could fall in love with Kakashi so quickly was a bit absurd, Madara wondered if the same could be said for Kakashi. It might not be love on Kakashi's side, not yet, but it could certainly be something that could develop into such strong feelings.

Kakashi had always been aloof, and hid his thoughts and his motives from everyone, even his brothers. Could Kakashi be hiding a well of deep emotion behind his masks—both physical and metaphorical? That orange book… it was a story of romance and deep connections. Could Kakashi have so quickly connected with Tatsumi? Which of her lies were for Makami, and which were for Madara? That was the trouble with fantastic liars, you always wondered how much of what they said was the truth.

Madara was so lost in his despairing thoughts once more, he didn't even notice the kunai heading straight for his face.

It was only his time honed instincts which saved him.

Looking down at the blade he now held in his hand, he noticed that the tip and edges were blunted, the wrapping was frayed, and the weight was off—it was much lighter than a standard kunai. It could only be one thing…

"A training kunai?" Madara murmured, casting his gaze to find the perpetrator.

"Michika! Saeka!" Tatsumi called to her niece and her niece's friend, the names transforming into a reprimand. Michika—standing frozen in her stance across from Saeka, the young Inuzuka heir—took a deep breath before nervously looking over at the other girl, trying to delay the inevitable.

Michika—as Tatsumi's eager apprentice and secretary—had been accompanying Tatsumi (and now, Kakashi) to the Inuzuka compound on her many visits, and had become fast friends with Saeka. The two girls were around the same age, and both eager to please their much adored role-models—Saeka's being her mother Unari, the Inuzuka Clan Head. The duo had been sparring nearby, and one of their practice kunai must have ricocheted in Madara's direction—such was his (bad) luck, apparently.

When Tatsumi pointed at the ground next to her impatiently, the two girls and Saeka's dark-furred ninken, Tanseimaru (named for her startling icy-blue eyes) ran over quickly, neither wanting to test Tatsumi's patience.

"Yes, oba-sensei?" Michika asked, ignoring Madara's presence—and the damning training kunai in his hand—for her aunt. The snub earned her two raised eyebrows and sternly crossed arms from Tatsumi, which was one step away from the impatiently tapping foot—nothing good came when Tatsumi impatiently tapped her foot.

Steeling herself, Michika sighed before turning to Madara and affecting the decorum she used at Sharin-go, Sharin-gan.

"Hello oji-sama." Michika bowed respectfully. "Please forgive my clumsiness—"

"Our!" Seaka interjected, Tanseimaru barking in agreement.

"—my clumsiness," Michika continued. "It won't happen again."

"It was our fault too!" Saeka insisted, staring boldly up at Madara. This earned her a raised eyebrow. Saeka looked at Michika, confused, before realising her error and bowing herself. "Please forgive us, Uchiha-s-sama," Saeka had trouble with the honourific, unused to addressing people so formally—the Inuzuka didn't care much for titles. "It was an accident. It won't happen again."

Madara examined the girls coolly for a moment, before oh so generously bequeathing them with a "Hn," of recognition, though he continued to stare at Michika, pointedly.

Michika shot Tatsumi an exasperated look, but with Tatsumi looking just as stern, her hands tucked in her sleeves, Michika knew it wasn't enough.

"Oji-sama, this is Inuzuka Saeka-chan, Inuzuka-sama's daughter, and her bonded ninken partner, Tanseimaru-chan. Saeka-chan, Tanseimaru-chan, this is my Clan Head, Uchiha Madara-sama."

When Madara didn't reply to the perfectly executed introduction with anything more than a perfunctory nod, he got his own pointed look—that went completely ignored—which earned him a smack to the back of the head. Too dignified to complain (in public, Tatsumi was in for a scolding once he got her alone if his twitching eyebrow was anything to go by) Madara turned to Saeka with a raised eyebrow, who—after her own stern look from Tatsumi—sighed dejectedly and bowed appropriately, gaining her a proper head nod from Madara in turn.

"Pleasure," he drawled, already done with the formalities, but when he turned back to Tatsumi to give her a look which frequently meant 'what in the blazes did you do that for?' Tatsumi was gone. Or rather, she wasn't where Madara expected to see her.

Tatsumi had kneeled next to Tanseimaru, her hand giving the ninken apologetic scritches behind the ears, while she murmured, 'Don't worry, Tanseimaru-chan, 'Dara-chan—"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" Madara interrupted, though he went ignored.

"—is just a grump, and he's in a bad mood today," Tatsumi finished, her fingers drawing symbols in the puppy's fur that only an Inuzuka would recognize. Symbols Kakashi—of all people—had taught her, to get the ninken to sit still, to listen, or to hunt. One last pat, and Tanseimaru's ears perked, her nose seeming to catch a scent on the wind.

Tanseimaru bolted towards a bush, Saeka hot on her heels, recognising the command and knowing better than to question what Tatsumi had ordered.

While teaching the Inuzuka ninken, Tatsumi had been afforded a level of command in order to assist her in their tutelage. In respect of Tatsumi's position and the knowledge she was sharing with them—for the benefit of their beloved partners, no less—the Inuzuka tended to listen to her orders, even when they seemed farfetched or out of the blue.

Tanseimaru sniffed around the bush before picking up on a trail, leading her to a tree, and then another, until she stopped at the base of a tall Mokutonka (a tree made from Hashirama's mokuton jutsu), digging under some loose foliage. She barked twice before letting out three yips, and then growled.

"Did you find something, Tanseimaru?" Saeka asked, crouching down and sniffing herself, unable to stop her own growl when she detected the scent Tanseimaru had picked up on. "There's someone here, Tatsumi-sensei." Saeka fangs seeming to elongate as her already slit-pupils sharpened even further, the red Inuzuka seals on each of her cheeks turning jagged in turn.

And oh, what a perfect excuse for Madara and Tatsumi to flash on their Sharingan and scan for the interloper they had been pretending not to notice. It was hardly planned at all, no, why would you even think to suggest that?

Makami was an accomplished enough ninja to replace himself with a branch in order to escape to another location each time Tanseimaru had zeroed in on his scent, even talented enough to hide his scent completely—at least to novice sensors, like Saeka and Tanseimaru. But he stood no chance of hiding himself from Madara—who held the strongest Sharingan in the Clan—or Tatsumi—who had mastered seeing that which was hidden as a part of her training to be a Sharingan ophthalmologist. Madara and Tatsumi zeroed in on Makami almost instantly, their special eyes allowing them to pinpoint the exact location of the presence they had previously only had a vague lock on.

Faster than most Sharingan could track, Madara was on the branch behind Makami, kunai casually pressed up against his clansmen's throat. Tatsumi followed barely a millisecond behind, crouching in front of the interloper. The three tomoe of her own Sharingan were spiraling quickly, almost blending into each other.

"I told you I would handle the situation, didn't I, Makami?" Madara drawled into Makami's ear, tone even, his delivery cool despite the blade he held at Makami's throat.

The casual air was far more menacing than his ire would have been, as Madara's anger was common place—hard not to hear and laugh at, when Izuna, Tatsumi, Hashirama—and with increasing regularity—Kakashi, managed to elicit a childish infuriation in Madara. But this calm tone, the careful, mocking nonchalance—that was the voice Madara's enemies heard before they met their untimely demise.

Makami tried and failed to swallow the lump in his throat, the bobbing of his Adam's apple causing the kunai to draw a drop of blood.

"My my," Tatsumi's voice was laden with that same faux, over-ripe sweetness, the type that poisoners used to hide the bite of their most lethal toxins, "spying on your Clan Head—on another Clan's territory, no less—is a very serious offence." Her smile was all teeth as she bent closer to whisper in his other ear, "tsk, tsk, Makami-jiji, an old man like you should know better than that."

Makami felt a chill run down his spine, his mind blank as he tried to sputter out apologies. The weight of Madara's chakra, however, was stopping them in his throat, while the absence of Tatsumi's in front of him—even though he could see and feel her, right there—was equally off-putting.

"How many of our clanspeople have you been spying on in your old age, Makami?" Madara's voice remained cool, as if he were asking about the weather instead of making a grievous accusation.

Clan loyalty was held sacred amongst most clans; the penalty for betraying that trust was punishable by excommunication at best, and at worst, death. However, within those clans which had kekkei genkai, or doujutsu as valuable as the Sharingan and the Byakugan, betrayals of that loyalty were held to almost religious proportions.

"I-I—" Makami tried to get out, but his words were stuck in his throat, the immense pressure from Madara's chakra making the otherwise hardened warrior seem like a meek novice. Tatsumi affected an air of sympathy, her face scrunching into an over exaggerated pout, brows scrunched, eyes wide, bottom lip jutting out.

"Poor Makami-chan," she cooed, one hand moving to brush back a lock of Makami's hair. He flinched at her touch, and only Marada's quick reflexes saved the paranoid man from accidentally splitting his own throat open on the blade against his neck.

Makami was not a weak willed man—he had fought in many battles, had stared death in the face and come out victorious. But nothing he had faced could compare to the sheer weight of Madara's chakra at his back.

Madara was a different sort of opponent, in a completely separate class of his own. His strength was comparable to a heavenly hammer that fell from the sky to crush you—and all that surrounded you—completely. There was no avoiding him, no defence, nothing to be done once he set his sights on your destruction. Tatsumi, on the other hand, was the snake in the grass, slithering up to you silently, catching you unaware; before you knew it, you were either paralyzed from her venom or slowly being crushed to death as she constricted around you. Makami felt very much like he was caught in her grasp, held tighter and tighter as it became increasingly hard to breathe, trapped in the shadow of the hammer, waiting for it to drop.

"I-I only have—the Clan—the Clan's protection—I only want the Clan protected!" Makami finally managed to get out, his tone desperate as he implored them to listen—to understand. He was frightened—Makami was perpetually in a state of heightened awareness, of anxiety, always working to get rid of that fear. To feel it from his Clan Head… it was wrong; he should be safe amongst his kin. And yet, here, in this moment where he had only been trying to help, he felt petrified.

Tatsumi, seeming to read his thoughts, reached out once more, this time to pat Makami's hand sympathetically while Madara tsk'd in disapproval.

"The Clan's protection?" Madara repeated indulgently, his tone alone causing a cold sweat to break out on the back of Makami's neck. "And do you think that I—Uchiha Madara, the Head of the Uchiha Clan, your Clan Head—am not equipped to ascertain whether or not there is a threat to the Clan?"

"N-no, Madara-sama I—"

Madara tsk'd again. "Hn. Well then, do you think I am unable to protect our Clan against a threat?"

"O-of course n-not, Ma-Madara-sama."

"Then," Madara's voice dropped an octave, "why are you here?"

"Madara-s-sama, I—I didn't mean, I meant no disrespect! I-I didn't—"

"Did you think that I would be soft because Tatsumi is my cousin?"

"No I—"

"Did you think I would let Tatsumi do whatever she wanted? Did you think I wouldn't check into this issue because of our relationship?"

"I—Madara-sama—"

"And how could you have thought that Tatsumi—third in line to lead this Clan, should anything happen to me or my brother, Kami-sama forbid—would betray our clan?"

"NO! I didn't—no, no! But-but love, it makes—it makes even the strongest into fools, Madara-sama, you know that an Uchiha's love is all consuming, we can't help it—"

"Then you think Tatsumi is a fool? Did you hear that, imouto? He thinks you're a fool."

Tatsumi chuckled. "I only see one fool here"—Tatsumi briefly locked eyes with Madara before her gaze flicked back to Makami, eliciting a glare from Madara at the implication, though that wasn't enough to hide the blush dusting his cheeks—"and it looks like he's in trouble…"

"Hn," Madara agreed. "Is that all you have to say for yourself?"

"I-I—" Makami seemed to deflate, realising that his reasoning was being dismissed as excuses and disrespect. There was only one thing left for him to do. "Madara-sama, Tatsumi-sensei, please f-forgive my offences. I meant n-n-no disrespect, I was only—I was concerned about the-the eye-thief."

Madara felt a fire burning in his gut at the thrice-damned nickname he himself had once bestowed Kakashi. It was an anger that was becoming more and more familiar, and burning all the hotter every time he heard it. It was not an anger he could show to his kin, however; it was not an anger he—as Clan Head—was permitted to express. So Madara bit back on the vitriol that was boiling in his chest, purposefully loosened his grip on his kunai, and took a deep—albeit silent—breath to steady himself.

Sheathing his kunai, Madara finally released Makami. Automatically, Makami dropped to his knees in dogeza—the most formal and repentant apology one could offer—bowing his head first to Tatsumi, and then spinning around and bowing to Madara, leaving his forehead pressed to the tree branch despite the awkward perch.

"We are no longer at war with the Senju, Makami. They are our allies. And while I understand the difficulties in trusting our former enemy, the only way to maintain this position—to maintain our newfound peace—is to strengthen the bonds between our clans. Whether in the form of friendship or romance"—it was only his strength of will that stopped Madara from choking on that word—"those new connections are what make it easier for us to trust one another. Without them, there would be nothing but their word stopping them from betraying us."

Madara crossed his arms across his chest, watching Makami's trembling form. Unconsciously, Madara's tone softened when he continued.

"While it would be foolish to give away our clan secrets to anyone outside the clan—not just the Senju—our partnership requires more than just the basic level of interaction. Kakashi is a high-ranking Senju; as the third youngest brother, he is in charge if anything should something happen to Hashirama or Tobirama, Kami-sama forbid. He is of the same station as Tatsumi, and their acquaintance can only put the Uchiha in a better position." Though his words were true, they tasted like ash on his tongue. But Madara had always been an excellent tactician, and hadn't become the powerhouse he was by letting his emotions get the better of him. So, he pushed on, seemingly unaffected.

"Whatever the nature of their relationship, I trust Tatsumi's alliances. Don't forget what happened to her brother, Makami. She would not aid a thief, especially after what she went through. Shame on you for thinking thus, and for harassing her. You should be deferring to her; you accused her of treason, you've only wasted my time."

Makami spun around again, head still bowed as he faced Tatsumi once more.

"Please, Tatsumi-sensei, forgive me,"

"Maa, Makami, you're lucky the ninken have put me in a good mood," Tatsumi said. "You let your paranoia blind you, and your prejudice hurt someone in your clan." She crouched, using one hand to gently raise Makami's face so that he was looking at her. "I give you my word, on my beloved brother's soul, that I will never do something to hurt the Clan, although I shouldn't have to."

"I-I'm sorry, Tatsumi-sensei—"

"I know. But sorry isn't always enough." Tatsumi stood, releasing Makami's face, which twisted into a look of trepidation. She brushed a piece of hair behind her ear before turning her back on both men. "I hope you've learnt something from this," she said, before dropping to the ground and walking back to the two girls and the ninken who had been staring up at the adults in some sort of apprehensive awe.

"It seems as though you're in need of something to occupy all your free time," Madara began, an idea blooming even as he spoke. "I think working with one of the other clans will do you some good. It might teach you something." Madara turned to look over the training fields, searching for a glance of sliver as he spoke. "I will have something for you to do by the end of the week. Come find me then," Madara finished, before making his own descent. He followed after Tatsumi, who was herding the trio back to the Inuzuka training grounds.

Madara's long strides and the fact that Tatsumi was trying to wrangle two young girls and a ninken meant he easily caught up to the group. Tatsumi wasn't even a little bit surprised to see him looming over her shoulder, even though his business should have been concluded at this point.

Upon his pursuit, Madara had anticipated that Tatsumi would ask him why he was following. With no reason to be there, and seeing as he wasn't big on 'proper goodbyes' (when he was the one leaving), it was strange for him to follow. And so, Madara had—rather ingeniously, he felt—concocted the perfect excuse.

But Tatsumi was very pointedly not asking.

It was infuriating.

If Tatsumi didn't ask, how would she know Madara most certainly was not following just to get a glimpse of Kakashi? No, he most definitely was not looking forward to seeing that vexing man.

Madara didn't care to see how Kakashi and Tatsumi interacted, didn't care to know if his musings on their relationship were accurate, because what would it matter? It didn't matter if Kakashi was infatuated with Tatsumi. It didn't matter if Tatsumi was growing attached to Kakashi. It didn't matter if the two of them really were in love. Not even a little. Because Madara did not care about Kakashi and the things that he did. Very pointedly did not care. Madara's only interest was that of a Clan Head; he wanted to see how Tatsumi's lessons were going, and make sure that the Inuzuka were treating her with the appropriate amount of respect. That was all.

That was all.

"I would like to evaluate how your lessons with the Inuzuka are going," Madara finally said to Tatsumi, who had been congratulating the two girls on something. He hadn't been paying attention.

That was all.

"Hn," was Tatsumi's only, infuriating, response.

"It's my duty as your Clan Head to make sure they're treating you with the proper respect."

That was all.

"Mmhmm." Tatsumi smiled indulgently this time, as if he were simple and she was humouring him.

"I will need to determine whether your teaching methods are effective."

That. Was. All.

This earned Madara a raised brow.

That was maybe a poor excuse, Madara conceded. Still, he wouldn't take it back. Because he had no other reasons to be following Tatsumi back to the kennels of all places—Madara could already feel his throat tightening and his eyes getting itchy and they were still outside. He didn't even know if Kakashi was still around.

Not that it mattered.

Madara hardly noticed when Michika, Saeka, and Tanseimaru left for one of the training fields. He only peripherally noticed when Tatsumi took his arm to guide him in the correct direction. He paid no mind as light dimmed and sound bled into an almost-silence, or when the smell of outside was replaced by stale air, metal, and dog fur (if one did not mention the less pleasant scents), although his allergies certainly did. He was too busy looking for something else.

And then he saw it. A flash of silver hair.

Tatsumi had taken them through the kennels and into the medical facilities specifically used by the Inuzuka veterinarians. Through an open doorway, at the back of the room, sitting in—not by, in—a small pen, covered in puppies—puppies, of all the damned things—sat one Senju Kakashi. He was even letting the mangy rascals lick him. Kakashi's single visible eye wasn't curved into the happy crescent that denoted his normal smile. Instead, his eye was open and crinkled as he laughed, light and carefree—'Have I ever heard him laugh like that?' Madara wondered to himself—the puppies climbing him like a jungle gym as he murmured soft nonsense at them.

"Such a strong grip!" Kakashi said to one puppy who had caught his finger under its paws.

"Ooh, you've got a great bite already!" This was directed at another puppy nibbling on Kakashi's forearm

"Woah, what an amazing jump!" was the congratulations Kakashi offered to the puppy that landed on top of his head.

"You've got such wonderful pups," Kakashi said to their mother, a great brown beast who was serving as Kakashi's backrest, "you must be so proud."

The ninken mother concurred with a soft yip, before letting out a series of barks.

Kakashi only laughed again. "You're definitely right," he agreed—agreed!—with whatever the ninken had said, and 'Since when did Kakashi understand dog?'

Kakashi was the only thing Madara could focus on. He didn't notice the two Inuzuka vets staring and cooing at the scene, he didn't notice Tatsumi's mocking smile in his direction, nor did he notice the pups' father blocking the doorway into the room. Well, until the huge beast started growling at him. That seemed to get everyone's attention, except for Kakashi's.

"Easy," Tatsumi murmured to the black furred ninken standing in their way. The top of the ninken's head settled almost at Tatsumi's collarbones. She offered out her hand for a sniff, and once she had the ninken's approval, patted him lightly on the head before making her way past. Madara eyed the ninken suspiciously before offering his own hand. Only, instead of sniffing him, the new father tried to bite Madara's hand off.

Tatsumi and the two vets laughed.

"Don't mind him, Uchiha-sama," said one of the vets—a short woman with short hair cropped like a boy and a gruff voice.

'What sort of animals are these people?' Madara wondered.

The vet continued, "He's just being over protective. You should probably wait over there, though."

How presumptuous of that vet to assume she could tell Uchiha Madara what to do. Still, Madara was in no mood to fight a dog, and had no interest in getting closer to the rest of those unruly mongrels—Kakashi included. Instead, he crossed his arms and leaned against the door jamb, eyeing the spectacle from a safe distance.

Tatsumi sashayed her way over to where Kakashi sat—'She wasn't walking like that earlier,' Madara noted—before carefully stepping over the short wall and into the pen with Kakashi. Kneeling in front of Kakashi, Tatsumi scooped the puppy off of the man's head and then ruffled his hair.

RUFFLED.

HIS.

HAIR.

Kakashi finally looked up from the puppy he was cradling in his arms to greet Tatsumi with a crescent-eyed, goofy smile.

"Having fun?" Tatsumi teased, placing the puppy in her arms on the hay-lined floor of the pen.

Kakashi chuckled. "More, now that you're here."

They were flirting.

They were flirting.

They were FLIRTING!

The two vets cooed again and Madara felt his brow furrow.

"Well, playtime's over, Kakashi-kun—"

KUN?

"—we need to give them their examinations now. Then we're done for today."

"Aww, so soon? I was enjoying our time together."

OUR TIME?

"We'll be back again soon, no need to pout."

"Maa, so mean, sensei-chan."

CHAN?

"You love it." Tatsumi smirked when her words caused Kakashi to blush.

BLUSH?

Tatsumi waved the two vets closer, explaining something to them while Kakashi—without prompting—rearranged the puppy in his arms and then angled it towards her. She smiled her thanks briefly, not stopping her lecture, gently placing one hand on the puppy's head while Kakashi held it still. The motion required Tatsumi to move closer to Kakashi. He had the puppy laid on its back, cradled in one arm against his chest, while his free hand held the puppy's squirming legs down. Tatsumi had to sit with her side almost pressing against Kakashi's chest.

'She's practically in his lap,' Madara fumed, making to step towards them. Only the growling ninken still blocking his path stopped him.

At the sound, Tatsumi caught Madara's sizzling gaze and winked.

'She's teasing me,' Madara suddenly realised. It didn't stop his jealously from flaring when Tatsumi swatted at Kakashi's legs, prompting them to open wider so she could kneel between them. It didn't matter that it was probably more comfortable for her to be closer, instead of leaning over. It didn't matter that they needed to keep the puppy as still as possible, as any sudden movements could cause irreparable damage to the puppy. It didn't matter that Tatsumi wasn't interested in Kakashi that way.

What mattered was the way Tatsumi's shoulder now rested against Kakashi's chest. The way her feet settled under Kakashi's thigh. The way their faces leaned together, so that both could get a good look at the puppy. The way they seemed so comfortable together, like they had known each other for years instead of days. The way they could so casually occupy each other's space, when—after knowing Kakashi for years longer—Madara couldn't say the same. It wasn't any potential romance which bothered Madara at this point. It was their platonic bond.

Kakashi and Tatsumi joked. They shared each other's space, they communicated without words—they were familiar. Madara wanted that. He wanted Kakashi to know what he was thinking with just a glance. He wanted Kakashi to joke and laugh and smile upon seeing him. He wanted… he wanted Kakashi.

Fuck.

He really, really, really wanted Kakashi.

Rikudou Sennin be damned.

Madara had known, on some level, that he wanted Kakashi. That wasn't much of a revelation (at least, not a recent one). Madara knew he wanted Kakashi's attention, knew he wanted Kakashi to think of him and be plagued by the unending thoughts—the way Madara was plagued by relentless thoughts of Kakashi. Madara knew that he wanted to get under Kakashi's skin, knew that he wanted Kakashi to search him out and want to be near him. Madara knew that this desire was a combination of attraction, lust, and sheer pettiness. Because if Madara had to be plagued by Kakashi, then Kakashi damn well better be plagued by Madara. It was only fair, after all.

But if this rollercoaster of a day had taught Madara anything, it was that he wanted more than that. Madara didn't just want an affair—the hot and fast affair he had believed would finally rid his system of his desire for Kakashi once and for all. Madara realised he wanted to be curled around Kakashi the way Tatsumi so casually fit her way into Kakashi's space, as if such an occurrence was so commonplace it was unnoticeable. Madara realised he wanted to share soft smiles and inside jokes and all those other offhand, light moments that meant two people were so tangled up in each other they couldn't be separated without great pain on both parts.

Madara realised, in watching his cousin, his crush, and a litter of puppies—eyes itching from pet dander—that he wanted to be Kakashi's friend, too.

The implications of that were terrifying.

Lust combined with friendship turned into romance and then love, and an Uchiha's love was a dangerous thing. Madara had done horrible things in the name of his love. And perhaps, most dangerous of all, Madara did not regret any of those actions—would do them again in a heartbeat. He had killed unarmed civilians—men, women, children, infants, and everything in between. He had torn cities asunder, burnt crops and salted the earth so that recovery was futile. He had made parents watch as he slaughtered their children, had torn eyes from skulls so that they might know how it felt when their kin had done as much to his own. Madara could not be considered a good person, not by Senju standards—not by Kakashi's standards. Not that it mattered. Not that Madara's feelings changed anything—now, or in the future.

Madara did not mind being the villain if it meant protecting those precious to him. Madara did what he had to, to protect his precious people—even if they didn't appreciate it. Even if they never knew the lengths he had to go to. Even if he was never given recognition. Even if his actions were answered with scorn. And as the leader of the Uchiha Clan, he had so many to protect.

For years—under the guidance of his father—Madara had believed that brute strength, ruthlessness, and power were the tools he needed to keep his people safe. He did not mind the black marks on his soul, did not care when others called him 'Monster,' or 'Demon,' or even 'Beast.'

When Madara was a boy and had first met Hashirama, he had believed that there was another way to protect people. Hashirama dreamed of a village where everyone worked together instead of fighting against each other; not just a place but a new era, where children didn't have to fight because there were more than enough shinobi around to support those who could not support themselves. There was no need for the bloodthirstiness his parents had instilled in him as a young boy, because there would not be the competition for missions. Ninja would no longer fight ninja, but instead simply protect and fight for those who could not fight for themselves.

Through garnering relationships, Hashirama's might and the rise of Konohagakure no Sato was proof of that brand of power; Hashirama had shown that the hand of friendship could be far more formidable than the strongest jutsu. But that was Hashirama's power. Even Hashirama's kekkei genkai—the mokuton—was a symbol of life, of growth, of all that thrived in the sun. Through his friendship with Hashirama, Madara had learnt that there were other forms of strength, other methods to protect people.

But those were not Madara's methods, no matter how deeply he insinuated himself into the village, no matter how close his friendships with the Senju, no matter how his perception of the world had changed. And his methods were not the problem, not in Madara's opinion at least.

The problem with loving Kakashi, however—not that Madara believed he loved Kakashi now, not completely (he did not feel so entrenched that there was no hope to untangle himself, to guard his heart and never think of that damnable Senju again)—was that some of Kakashi's enemies were Madara's own clansmen.

The Uchiha had strict laws against doujutsu theft, and while part of the treaty between the Senju and Uchiha required the Uchiha to stop pursuing Kakashi's Sharingan, it did not stop the resentment. The Uchiha wanted vengeance—what they would call justice—for whoever had been slain so that Kakashi could have that eye. Even if Kakashi explained to the Uchiha how he was gifted his Sharingan, they likely wouldn't believe him.

The intensity of the Uchiha Clan's hatred towards Kakashi had died down, somewhat, after Kakashi had saved Madara's life—several times, in fact—as well as the lives of other Uchiha, using that very same Sharingan he was scorned for. The anger was still there—Madara could not imagine a time where it would fully be gone—but next to it was a reluctant admiration.

Madara still did not know why Kakashi saved his life that first time, when the Uchiha and Senju were at war—still did not understand why Kakashi would save the life of any Uchiha. But Kakashi constantly put his own life on the line in order to protect people—regardless of which clan they belonged to, even before the village and alliances were formed. If there was a ninja of the Land of Fire in danger, Kakashi would be there to help. It was maddening. There were so many layers to Kakashi, so many things Madara did not understand. But he wanted to. He really, really, really wanted to.

What would that mean, for Madara? For the Uchiha? What would it mean to love Kakashi, to have a Senju with a Sharingan as a lover? Was it even worth the trouble? As infatuated as Madara currently was, he firmly believed that with distance and time, he could shake these feeling for Kakashi. Madara felt that he should, for the sake of his clan.

But he didn't want to.

Was this yet another thing he would have to give up for the betterment of his Clan?

Madara's eyes focused once more on the scene in front of him. Tatsumi was taking the puppy from Kakashi's arms, like a mother relieving a father of their child. Another puppy was already clambering into Kakashi's lap, vying for his attention. Kakashi indulged the puppy with a soft smile, holding him up to his face and being rewarded with an onslaught of puppy kisses.

Tatsumi flicked Kakashi lightly on his temple, causing the man to affect an exaggeratedly injured mien. She picked up another puppy and instructed it to "kiss the fool's booboo better," eliciting a look of pleasant surprise and then raucous laughter from Kakashi—even as the puppy chased after him to deliver said kiss(es). If it weren't for the puppies' mother sitting behind Kakashi, Madara thought Kakashi would have fallen over from the strength of his guffaws. Tatsumi couldn't contain her own pleased grin, either ignoring or not noticing the way the two Inuzuka vets murmured over how cute the two were with each other.

As Madara watched the two friends, he realised two things. First, it didn't matter if Kakashi was precious to Madara or not; Kakashi was unintentionally carving a place in Tatsumi's heart. Even though the bond was platonic—Tatsumi would not be acting so familiar with Kakashi in front of Madara if it were romantic, knowing of Madara's feelings and how cruel that would be (so he hoped)—Kakashi was fast becoming important to her. And so, regardless of Madara's own feelings, Kakashi was already someone Madara had to protect—if not for his own sake, than for Tatsumi's. And, along with Izuna, Tatsumi was one of the few he would do—had done—anything for.

Madara had already carried out despicable acts on Kakashi's behalf—even if they could be hidden under the veil of protecting their village. While fighting against his kin went against everything Madara had been taught—everything Madara believed in—this afternoon's carefully constructed deception, as well as the lesson imparted behind the ruse, had Madara feeling as though it might not be impossible to sway them. Tatsumi had instantly hated Kakashi upon finding out about his gifted Sharingan, and yet here they were two weeks later, working together—smiling and joking and laughing all the while.

The second thing Madara realised—and was perhaps the most embarrassing of all the things that had happened that day—was that his jealousy and possessiveness was so strong, it even stretched to dogs. Part of it was that Madara was being ignored—'how can some dumb mutts completely enamour such a distant man?'—but mostly it was how free and open Kakashi was acting.

With the puppies and their mother, there were no walls, no layers of distance artfully constructed to keep people away. Kakashi was acting—to quote Tatsumi—like a fool. A besotted fool, who seemed free of the ever-present weight which slumped his shoulders and darkened his eye. Madara had never considered that Kakashi looked tense, with all the effort the man put into affecting the posture of wilted cabbage. But seeing how relaxed Kakashi was now, Madara could not explain it any other way.

Whatever stress or trauma that would normally be weighing Kakashi down was not present in this moment; his full attention was on the puppies surrounding him. Kakashi did not seem to have enough time to relapse, as once one pup left his hold, another stole his attention.

Madara had heard of ninja who had suffered severe trauma—trauma that not even time could shake—regaining pieces of themselves with the help of an animal companion. Madara had his hawks; when days were particularly bleak and human companionship seemed more like a chore, just the simple work of tending to them was enough to take his mind off his sorrows. As well, the nincats of the Uchiha clan could unfailingly sense when Madara was having a bad day, and were thoughtful and caring enough to curl up with him, providing quiet companionship.

In a sudden fit of understanding, Madara realised that Kakashi only truly had his adopted brothers and his book for comfort. Kakashi had no friends, lest you consider Izuna and himself, which wasn't saying much; Izuna still hated Kakashi (would probably hate him more, now), and Madara's relationship with Kakashi was, well… 'tumultuous' was a kind word. Their interactions consisted of Kakashi driving Madara mad, and Madara pretending to hate him. And sure, that hatred was pretend (now, at least) and Madara was fairly certain that Kakashi knew that, and tolerated the attitude (why else would Madara seek him out so much?) but it clearly wasn't enough.

Hashirama was busy trying to run the village and his clan. Tobirama was even more quiet and introverted than Kakashi, if that were possible, secluding himself in dark corners to run his 'experiments' or what have you. Madara suddenly realised that he didn't know what Kakashi did on a day-to-day basis, nor how he occupied his spare time.

Did Kakashi simply train and reread that same book over and over again? Sure, Kakashi had his missions, his position as one of Hashirama's advisors, and his obligations to the Senju Clan, but that was hardly a social life. Madara himself only saw Kakashi maybe once a week, with how busy he was with running the Uchiha Clan, advising Hashirama, and his own missions. Kakashi's life must be a lonely one.

The thought cut.

Madara was suddenly ashamed of himself. How could he have felt jealousy towards Tatsumi, or even these pups? What right did he have? Kakashi obviously needed more than just his brothers; he needed friends and companions and people to make him smile and laugh freely. Madara did not know Kakashi's feelings towards Tatsumi, just as he did not know Kakashi's feelings towards himself. But whether platonic or romantic, did Kakashi not deserve such joy, from wherever or whomever it came from?

Kakashi had obviously lost his first family—whichever branch of the Hatake Clan Kakashi was related to must be deceased, otherwise Madara could not see Kakashi allowing himself to be adopted into another. Along with their mastery of kenjutsu and their lightning-natured chakra, the Hatake were also known for their summoning contract with the lower canines. It was said that each member signed the contract at a young age, summoning their first pups and growing and training together. But Madara had never seen Kakashi around any dogs—ninken or otherwise—not in combat nor off the battlefield. Had something happened to Kakashi's pack?

Amongst the Inuzuka, it was considered a loss of part of one's own self if their ninken companion somehow perished. Many Inuzuka committed seppuku not long after. Any injury to one's ninken companion at all was considered deeply shameful to the Inuzuka; the Inuzuka ninja were expected to protect their ninken with their own lives if it were to become necessary. But even though Madara had never seen nor heard word of Kakashi working with ninken, let alone having his own pack like many Hatake did, it was obvious that Kakashi loved the animals.

It gave Madara the craziest idea; should he procure a dog for Kakashi?

Madara's eyes widened at the thought. It was preposterous and presumptuous and probably a terrible idea. Many who had once had animal companions—ninja or otherwise—did not want 'replacements.' Would it be seen as a faux pas, would it be received with pain instead of joy, was it even Madara's place? And was it not a copout to find something else to do the work to lighten Kakashi's life, instead of Madara putting in the work himself?

Madara wanted to put in the work himself.

Fucking hell.

'Why am I like this?' Madara wondered, bemoaning his own possessive jealousy and his desire for Kakashi all at once. Things would be so much simpler if that damned adopted Senju wasn't in the picture. Though, Izuna would be dead, who knows if the village would have even been formed, and Tobirama would probably be even more maddening than he was now.

'The things I owe that man…'

Was it so shameful to want Kakashi? Was it really so horrible? Kakashi's merits far outweighed his failings. This game where Madara pretended to barely tolerate Kakashi and worried for his own heart, like some sort of sappy bastard in a shitty romance novel, was pathetic. This was about Kakashi. About Kakashi finding happiness, joy—pleasure in life in general.

'It does not matter if Kakashi has feelings for me,' Madara vowed, 'simply that Kakashi is happy. My own feelings should have no part in this.'

Healing Kakashi's Sharingan was one step, but that was now Tatsumi's job. Still, there was work to be done. Madara had to prepare for his next mission to the Hatake Clan Compound, and see if he could think of any other ways he could somehow brighten Kakashi's life.

With his new mission at the forefront of his mind, Madara turned on his heel, leaving the Inuzuka compound without a word of goodbye in order to get started with his plans right away.

Madara was in such a hurry, he didn't notice Kakashi's shoulders slump at his abrupt exit.

AN: Uggghhhh this chapter man! This chapter was torture, you don't even know. I had initially thought it was halfway done, back when I posted part one of Doubt(ful)—so wrong I was. I'd say it was more like a quarter finished. It was a combination of not getting things out the way I wanted them, and just… this chapter got away from me. Do you want to know what the prompt for this chapter was, finally?

"Kakashi cooing over puppies and Madara feeling strangely jealous but also thinking it's adorable as fuck." –anon

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME, THAT THIS IS WHAT YOU GET? There was like, way less cooing over adorable puppies than I planned, to start with. That whole middle section of the chapter I kind of hate but I didn't know how else to get through that so here we are. World's longest transition.

I will say, I did like how it (and this chapter, really) showcases the shift in Madara's mindset in 2sb1sf from canon!Madara. He's still ruthless and bloodthirsty, but he's got stronger bonds keeping him together, and so he doesn't shy away from the power that can be found in making connections with others. Canon!Madara does his own thing, makes his own plans, and although he does team up, it's only to use people, not for their value as humans. Even the Infinite Tsukuyomi plan doesn't treat people as individuals, but as pawns. I don't think Kakashi could fall in love with someone who doesn't value bonds and people and the village, tbh. So it's important, I feel, to establish that without all the pain and grief making Madara crazy, he can see the value in a more… humanitarian brand of power.

ON TO SOME GOOD NEWS!

If you're not following me on tumblr, then you've missed a few things that have happened in the past (seven! le gasp!) months:

-I've written out some info on Kakashi's outfit in 2sb1sf.

purple-possibilities. tumblr. post/161788065084/kakashis-outfits-in-two-steps-back-one-step

if you don't want to follow the link, check out ivegotpurple on tumblr and you should see it there (search for #2sb1sf!Kakashi)

-As well, I've written two pieces that I haven't posted here. They're not related to the 2sb1sf-verse, but I should get around to posting them soonish. Easiest way to find them is ivegotpurple on tumblr. They're called "Unplanned Confessions" and "Rules Never Meant a Thing."

There's been some fanart! Isn't that exciting? I'm so excited. You can check it out on my tumblr (either purple-possibilities or ivegotpurple) under the hashtag #2sb1sf fanart OR you can go through these links.

-Kakashi in his 2sb1sf outfit: pinesterr. tumblr. post/166761573086/me-attempting-to-draw-kakashi-from

-Beginning of a comic feat Madara and Kakashi and how Kakashi got his armour: hiraeth-wings. tumblr. post/161863766891/snort-have-this-quick-sketch-aka-page-1-of

-An interpretation of the scene from (Un)Resolved Feelings where Madara examines Kakashi's eye: thetoxicstrawberry. tumblr. post/161026834009/no-not-you-madara-agrees-swiftly-standing

-An interpretation of what Tatsumi looks like: cassandrasdreamworld. tumblr. post/157547580628/so-uh-guess-surprise-purple-possibilities-i

(None of these links show up properly but just pop them into google and you should find them easily enough. Oh wait, you can't copy and paste from here. It's easiest to search one of my blogs, OR you can check out my AO3 account (also ivegotpurple) and just visit this chapter in the story, where there will be clickable links)

I will be getting around to answering reviews now that this chapter is posted. Sorry for the long wait. As for what's coming next, I think I want to write up how Kakashi got sent to the past first, then a scene that takes place a few years after this (when Kakashi and Madara are already together) and then the next chapter of this.

I have such a love hate relationship with this chapter (leaning towards the hate, tbh although there are parts that I really like, which is the only reason why I'm posting this). So please let me know if you liked it! If not, well, sucks for all of us, this is as good as it's gonna get, trust me.