Smoke And Mirrors

Notes: There is no excuse for this. Well...at least not a 'good' excuse. I was craving a Tobidara(Tobi-Madara, whatever you want to call him) and Hinata fic. However, it's next to impossible to pair these two for many, many reasons (none of which take into account that he's a madman bent on taking over the shinobi world). But, I want to try it anyway, if for no other reason than to say that I did.

Additional Note: This will take place pre-Naruto series, so it might also be considered AU to a certain extent. Expect a lot of amateur exploration into Japanese mythology, fan speculation, and a little distortion of facts for story-telling purposes.

Disclaimer: I do not own rights to anime/manga series Naruto. I just borrow the characters, I do however promise to put them back where I found them.

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Prologue:

Spiritualist

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A cupped palm shielded a flicking candle flame, only to blow it out. Wisps of smoke curled from the used wick, before vanishing into the atmosphere. The attendants milling around her, shuttered the windows, blocking out the light of a dying orange sun. Silk sleeves hid her stilled and folded hands. Even while being swallowed by darkness, she was serene and willing to embrace all. Yes, even the crouching shadows outside the temple.

The young girls turned to her, bodies dipping into brief yet deep bows, "Will that be all, Hyuuga-sama?"

Her opal-colored eyes closed for a moment, followed by a short pause "Yes. That is all, until tomorrow morning..." she uttered quietly. A wish for a pleasant evening for the attendants and an assurance she'd see them again at daybreak. That was her way. Being of few and carefully measured words, yet saying so much under the surface.

It never failed to amuse- and annoy- him. One always had to read between the lines with her. For example, she seemed to calm on the surface; but his eyes could read each nervous twitch of her fingers. Each pained and anxious look which never had a chance to settle to wrinkle her brow or purse her lips, before fluttering away in the face of judgment. Every miniscule detail she tried to hide from the priests of the Fire Temple, from the servants, and from herself; he saw it all.

His hearing also had to be faultless, since she spoke in such soft tones.

"...they're gone. You can quit lurking, my second shadow."

He smirked before reaching to move the window latch. The metal of his kunai blade clicked against the fastening as it lifted and opened the shutter. Her back was to him, long hair shinning black in the dimming sunlight.

After crawling inside, he closed the window again, leaving them in darkness.

"You even blew the candles out?" he chuckled, "Nope, you weren't expecting anyone at all."

She flinched under his touch as calloused fingers pulled through her long ponytail. Effortlessly, he gained the prize- a pure white ribbon.

"Oh, for me, my fair lady? You shouldn't have, I'm unworthy..." he teased while moving to pocket the ribbon.

The priestess whipped her body around, a fierce and possessive look in her pale eyes.

"Give that back!" the young woman hissed, reaching to snatch the hair tie back. He laughed, "Come on then, stand up and get it."

She snorted in response, but didn't get up from kneeling on the floor. Eyes closed, the priestess exhaled, inhaled, trying not to dwell too much on the imp that had invaded her room.

'Invaded? You 'invited' him in' the young woman reminded herself. With that in mind, she shivered. That's right, she had allowed him. Anything that happened next, would be partly her fault as well.

"I think you're scared" he whispered. The plates to his crimson armor clanked and clattered together as he squatted in front of her. Even with her eyes closed, she could picture him rocking back and forth on his heels. Always so impatient and child-like, this one. Well, when they were younger, he had always been like that.

Now...he was playful only with his words. Even then, everything he said or did, had a mixture of malice, bitterness, and danger to it. She couldn't trust a word he said- not that she could have before.

She sighed, 'At least he was an honest liar then. I could always tell when he was tricking me...'

Opening her eyes, the priestess stared right at him, yet still couldn't comprehend the Uchiha. So many events had unfolded in such a short amount of time. He had changed. Was she confused about him? Yes. Did she fear him? Now, that on the other hand was a loaded question.

And as she did with most things complicated and potentially harmful, she ignored the question. He wasn't satisfied with silence though. He never did stand for it, when she put up a silent stone wall.

The young woman stiffened as the satin ribbon caressed her right cheek, "Madara...stop that."

"Oh, so it can speak. And here I was about to declare this stone monument 'Priestess of...'what?"

Her fingers clenched tightly onto the ribbon, "You shouldn't be here."

A mocking pout formed on the man's lips, "Who let me in? Hn...let me think. Thinking...thinking...oh, it was you, Priestess-sama."

Touche. She'd admit to that, but not much else. He was too slippery and was in a mood to play. It wasn't a child's game though. He was all grinning white teeth, red eyes, armed and dressed in platted armor. This wasn't the boy she grew up with, the Hyuuga decided. No. This was a man constantly posed to do battle. This blood thirsty part of his personality, this needy grasp for power, did indeed scare her.

"Madara..." her palm curled around the ribbon, "you don't have to do this. Why can't you...simply let him become Hokage, let him rule. You have the Police Force, isn't that enough..."

The priestess's words were rudely cut into by a deep chuckle, "I can't be satisfied with letting him win."

She flinched as a cool hand cupped her palm, a thumb pressed to a blushing cheek, "Anymore than you can be satisfied with admitting you're a coward. You'd rather hide in this temple than face your own family. We both have our ways of doing things, Hinata."

Despite her resolve to remain pious and scolding, the young woman found herself being coaxed to her feet. How could he be so contradictory? His hands were rough from being a fighter, yet every touch was so gentle towards her. He laughed and joked like a boy; but there was the sourness of an old and jaded man that underlined everything which came from his mouth.

And...for being so irreverent towards the temple and to her position as the Priestess; Madara still respected her and their friendship.

Now standing, she could properly look him in the eyes. Those red eyes stolen from his brother. And even before that, were tainted by someone else's blood. At that point, the priestess had to look away, feeling disgusted with herself.

Madara wouldn't tolerate her attempts at remaining pure. His mouth descended then pressed to a pale cheek, while his hand eased the ribbon from between her fingers.

"Let me take this with me, Hinata-hime. I'll need all the good luck I can get."

Teeth pulled on her bottom lip, "You...you won't win. Madara, the Hokage is too strong. Even with the Kyuubi..." his hand pulled away, the ribbon with it. He was already standing at the window, ready to leave. Her words of caution had failed.

Another chuckle came from him, "Who said anything about 'winning'?"

She sighed again. Hinata had long since given up figuring out her puzzling friend. "Goodbye," was her reply, a farewell spit out in a mix of anger and fear. She knew what to expect from him and what she'd hear from him next. Which is why Hinata felt her world was turned upside down at his dead-serious tone.

With his back to her, he opened the shutters to escape for the last time, "Sayanora"

That word cut her as if his sword had caught her in the gut. By the time she felt warm summer air and sunlight on her face, her insides clench in anxiety. He would die tomorrow. Either for being a traitor by challenging the Hokage or...

The first tear fell without warning. It burned down her cheek and didn't have to a chance to cool before more followed. She had to force fists to curl into her red hakama, since beating the wall would get her nothing but concerned whispers and odd looks.

So much frustration directed at both Madara and herself. She tried to quiet the noises escaping tightly pursed lips, it was no use though. The best Hinata could do was to keep herself from outright wailing and saying how unfair his greed was. How much had they both paid, for the sake of Madara's thirst for power?

Too much.

Too many years.

Too many people.

And now, she'd stay here to constantly repent for the blood on her hands. Meanwhile Madara was allowed to escape it all, by dying at the hands of his rival. It didn't seem fair.

He was an idiot. Herself more so, for believing in a boy who said he'd conquer the world.

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Notes: Weird and rather disjointed beginning. This is just the start though. Also, yes, I've changed it so that Hinata is living in Madara's time- when Konohagakure was just created as a ninja village. So yes, some time line finagling was involved. Hope you enjoyed reading it!