Anywhere he could account for favour was rare, in past what held him beholden was fear in progress. Even still in times of monument and graves of stone there was trepidation when peace was found. Among his own, to the south, west, east and beyond the encompassment of knowledge. Elders would cast themselves as those of greatest wisdom in conduct of suspicious inclination and intent of spoils gained. Allying themselves to the promise of a Senju spouse before fleeing within the forest for the strongest of young to battle thee enemies. Clan mentality bathed in selfish needs and wants was ever lingering from in his father's brutality. Words could whisper hiddenly forth from his Mother's long dead bosom a creaking of her rotted lips forsaking all he had built for the good of generations forward. Questioning in nightmares of killing, ripping flesh with his blade, smearing his own skin with soiled blood only to raise forth his gunbai for the persuement of evermore sacrifice. Woken to laughter in joy encased with ignorance as children ran in the district not concerned upon their numbered years, plagued instead by however their parents may die in a struggle they could not yet fathom.

Conversations once thought so plain in a child's company now became innocent smiles before a whisper was spoken instead. Weapons were still given, training still rigorous, filled with necessity of cruelty, yet so rare to be implemented. Foes to the children, threats incarnate would be smothered from burning into fire by those who knew war. By the parents of the children in protection, as it had never truly been before.

Prisoners of war, regardless of hailing's were kept far from view, and any proceedings from there were done in seclusion.

Madara could recall with vivacity having been held captive in clenched conflict. Young at ten cycles, a warrior of his clan he had been held by those known well by all in the days of continuous war. The Kiniki clan, multitude of twisted generations who looked upon those separate from their own as the meat to feed their bellies, a means of survival. He had been captured alongside his sister, a brazen woman so called: Makarov. He could see within the bounds of his own closed lids her spiked hair, shortened and so alike his own, eyes of age fierce in anger no matter the enemy. So imprinted was the way she smelled, yet, it was so very gruesome, marred by the potency of her smoldering flesh. This was because of his own eyes refusing to watch. Later, he remembers watching their -his, captors eating, and he had no conscious thought to withhold his screams of weakness. Of all the Kiniki, none of them took it in good humour, only having the mind to beat him until he would quiet.  'Tenderized meat .' They had mocked, a phrase so wedged in his thoughts that he could not think to his sister's memory without it calling loud in his ears. Accompanying his memories of her was the scent of her cooking flesh and the pained cries she'd let free when they skinned her alive.

Somewhere within the mountains of the North he knew them to still be there. An incident that had been reported on with the greatest of caution. It did nothing to curve his ire, his family knew of his hatred far more than he himself understood its depths. Even now there was concern that war would be decreed without provocation. They knew not what had happened that day, simply that he and Makarov had been kidnapped by a rival clan, and that was all the detail put forth. His mother had been the only one informed. She in her rational was of greater emotional control then his father, and he dare not speak the truth. No matter how much Izuna had pleaded, Kou -his brother,- had insisted they knew the reason for her death. There was a block of thought that he could never free himself from. Promises of 'one day,' became so few, and more of continued to encase him in a deep hatred for any clan inclined northwards from the Great Grass Valley.

"Madara-sama..?"  Spoken so calmly, confused, and flustered from under him. Grasped tightly by the waist, and pressed to him in intimacy, so inappropriately. A scandalous glimpse into glimmering eyes had him turning his head, the flames rising so far from his neck. Speeches, lectures from his mother loudly pronouncing themselves at his wrongdoing. A respectful stance to an omega of good breeding, the need for propriety, the display of respect and strength in true alpha character. His proposal had been spoken in haste, made without forethought, ungraceful and so very callous, he could barely recognize his own action as that of a sane man. Nevermind himself.

Was this the fatalistic trappings of lust and possessive want? Something so beholden to primal desire that he had never before been granted its favour by the fates. Naruto looked forth with the observance of a child in innocence, as if he had never before glimpsed the struggle of warfare. His mind so firmly focused on the betterment of village affairs, the wellbeing of family and peace upheld. He cared not to think to the battles beyond the borders, only the great structure that their small settlement could soon be with perseverance and a steady hand. Such a force of contrast to common idealizations Madara could no longer envision a place in the village without such positive light to be beside him as a guide to this new mentality. Could this be contained forever, perhaps not, sooner then one could consider Naruto would need to kill for himself, for another, time knew, alas time was not one of kindness, and he could never forgive for what it would take away, for what it had. In this he looked back and saw rains of blood catching on the golden hair, underneath eyes poisoning the blue with stains and turning it into deep purple.

In the same span of time, it was cleared, blinking away the nightmare of his evening he could view what truly stood before him. A man bent forward with confusion and doubt in self. Casting eyes longing for a break of silence yet not forming anything that could calm the atmosphere so ripely cultivated by his own lack of conduct.

"Forgive me," He began, forming his sentence without thinking ahead. "My words were quick, not following respectfully." Granted a nervous slight of the head, an almost gloating smile, only to him, where meaning was of embarrassment.

"So... You didn't mean to..." He circled the air with his fingers and hand, vaguely putting forward what neither of them wanted to say out loud. Even still, without even forethought to aid him, his eyebrows drew together.

"No." His failing in speaking coherently halts. "I do wish to have your hand. However, my proposal was improper, not caring to you as prospect for my bride, I wish to re conduct myself, in a truly appropriate manner, if I may?"

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Air seals itself from Naruto's  lungs at the toss of emotion pulling him back and forward with its sudden complexity. Years prior He would have looked to himself and in reflection on present thoughts so unfathomingly distasteful; laughed. So long a time in his memory that it feels as if it were years in hindsight but though understanding of situation the fabrication of my reality corrupted by time as it is, the truth: The memory lingers at only six months old. Needs of society could only be met or conquered in a time of diplomacy. This was something an orphan such as Naruto himself was forced to conclude, to uphold with the greatest of assurity. Fighter as he was, even he at the tenderized age he was could not think to single handily overhauling a belief that was ingrained by those of tenuous experience. As such one had to indict oneself, into an exile of persona in order to survive and pursue life as was fitting to himself.

Misfortune struck at the date of his birth, he knew little of detail, for in reality he had never cared enough to venture into the truth. Although he had learnt nothing, taught by those who knew the barest of detail to fill in gaps of infancy memory, there was one thing bashed ruthlessly through his mind for all of his years. Demonic lingering, something attributed to Kyuubi, the nine-tailed beast, corrupted him, smothered him, turned his thoughts, what held his true form. Villagers so cruel whispering in piteous stance, and tossing stones at his feet a mockery of humility so hideously hidden by their fake smiles and steel-make eyes. To those given the task of watching his growth, observing his friendships and losses cared little for the continual discrimination. Was it so strange that he hid himself away among the common men? Danced around in the shadow of all with false pretense, occasionally the darkened shade around him forced him to forget that there was warmth in sunlight.  Nevertheless, never to be tainting his skin with her warm embrace the sun would smother him with her painful, and real truth.  Omega's were not permitted to fight in Konoha, as he was one, how could he ever indulge himself in the warmth of being comfortable with his own existence?

Luxury such as that did not fit into the world he had known. Corrupted as a demon, dismantled as an omega. At a point he had grown complicit, not caring of his role, simply because it was all he had known, future, past, or present there had been no escape from self confinement. Therefore he had never imagined himself being courted by a man of good conscious and forward thoughts. Considered it perhaps, as the misguided imaginings in childish depictions of romance.

Finding himself in a foreign environment, old fashioned laws, large figures from the statues of legend becoming familiar. He found acceptance, not entirely certainly he knew. However, there was a blanket understanding bringing forth a studle comfort that in the neighbor clan of the Senju their warriors were all omega, with only the exception being Tobirama. For a time so far from a so called progressive future, the past had in it a people who in wars took to the concept that each individual had their own potential. The Uchiha did not allow the omegas to fight, and in frankness, he had expected that in part. Though those married into the clan -courted by Uchiha, knew that without the warmth an omega could provide the Uchiha would fall to the burn of their own eyes.

On a level Naruto was content to mask himself with the pretend notion that Madara had asked for his hand out of welling emotion. Despite opinion so commonly said among teammates and teachers alike, he was not a complete fool. Should he be lucky in his fortune, perhaps there was a minimalistic type of affection at the very least hidden underneath the blackened eyes of the man before him. However, Naori had explained the complex situation they lived in well enough for him to understand without begrudgement that Madara had not sought his courtship for mere desire alone. Indeed, this was what one could view only as necessity. His chakra, in nature was hot, the one inside him made it a smothering heat. Hashirama had told him had he not? The covert seeking of stability by multiple Uchiha alpha, those who looked to him and saw a freedom from their internal conflict, and could he blame them? No. Perhaps if Madara hadn't reached him first he would have want to provide one of them with the help they needed.

That is, he had felt the frigid, frostbitten cold embedded in the patriarch, and in his own idiocy -not foolishness- he might have fallen a little, stumbled, over into the man's arms. And there he found a blossoming of deep affection already growing so fast, green, the bud of the flower not yet opened, but he knew it to be a red chrysanthemum.  Perhaps he wasn't there yet, neither of them were.

So, Naruto found himself underneath the moonlight, coming from the shadows his dance with them ending so beautifully, as he graced himself into the sun. A role of omegan pride emerging for the very first time. His lips on their own, upturned into a smile, not hesitant in the least.

"Formality Madara-sama?" Proud as the leader of such a dominating clan his cheeks could gain colour very fastly. Although he seemed so captive in his own embarrassment he paid no heed to anything else. A haste forming upon his mouth in looking for whatever it was he wished to say. Naruto allowed him not the chance. "If you must, but I say yes regardless." He said close to the man, not touching, but gazing upwards as well as he could, in sincerity, he knew that while perhaps the man had no love for him, Naruto knew himself well. He knew that he could not impede on the flower blossoming, soon he would be overheld by the scent and sight of chrysanthemums.

Basked in the subtlety of gracious fireflies, there was a sharpness to the Uchiha that contrasted the soft nature he was facing now. Although the eyes betrayed that illusion looking upon him with the luminescence of the lights reflecting upon the deep onyx like stone, giving him the imagery of liquid, a black lake the illustriousness of nature shining upon him so fond portrayed only in his eyes. Naruto once more had the air sealed from his lungs, this in different manner to previous, for now, he was certain.

"You wish to marry me? Truly?" The question so ridiculous, Naruto merely smiled and held to the hand of the man, unsure of what it was to do with itself, floating about his form with timid movement, as if longing to hold but never resting. It compared large to his own, creased by scars and hardened by blisters, yet Naruto held it nevertheless. His own so very small compared to the tall man, his own cuts healed invisibly, yet the skin remained sensitive, and when they touched -in grasping the blisters or raised skin of scar tissue they felt almost pleasant.

He lead the man forward, back out of the garden. Their fingers intertwined by his own design, in looking up, his own darkened indigo eyes found their ashen counterparts gazing firmly at him, and a smile of small quantity curved and easing tensed lines of the man's lips. He said not  a word as he pushed himself into the man's side, his other right hand, resting on his partner's right bicep. In a fansical embrace, he'd seen older couples share. Madara brought forth no protest, instead he hid a chuckle.

"I  still must provide formal ceremony for our engagement."

"I was afraid you would say that." Naruto moved his head away to hide the pout indignantly forming, changing the atmosphere.  Of course, in due course of his own ability, it was not well concealed, and Madara rested his unused hand on the one stealing chill from his right arm, which had Naruto turn back to him with displeased expression. Not wanting to seem entirely undignified next to a man of pride and grace such as the leader of the Uchiha.

"Come now, the entire affair is in honour of the one I choose to wed, so that the clan may come to know you, and certainly so that you may present your own beauty to them."  A well crafted statement, though in truth it only gave the poor blond a sense of forbidding at his own lack of desirability. Yet, he did not voice this in seeing Madara's smile, full for the first time this evening, in excitement. This stirred his gut, and instead of speaking forth honestly he swallowed the nerves fraying his insides and smiled as best he could. Managing perhaps to look coy instead of fearful. Certainly he would be in need of Kou's help. Ecepically as it seemed that the patriarch was so looking forward to the event.

They reached the home of Naori in silence, Madara in what Naruto could only depict as restful manner while his own heart threatened to jump from him, and his fingered to fall onto the ground with all their nervous movement. At the doorstep, he was swept with a grace he was unaccustomed to parted from his source of cooling to stand before the man instead, as he held the hand they had entwined and pressed his lips to his fingers with the utmost gentle pressure.

"Sweetest of dreams."  Flattered by the display of old fashioned conduct he stood aimless on outside for many moments, even while Madara had disappeared.

A mixture condemning his heart to failure, filled brimming with nerves and a type of lightness he so rarely felt as delight. This was what held him hostage as he slept that night.

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Morning had him humming an old tune that used to be Sakura's frequent tone of besoughtment.  Now his own melody of fairytale like joy. Even more humiliating he was occasionally twirling his hakama around as he reached a higher note in the song, spinning as a young maiden would to enchant the one they love. Kou walked into the kitchen with his luxurious long mud brown hair reaching down past his shoulders, grass green eyes gazing at him with wide shocked eyes. A pull on his greased lips, as the fabric of his yellow haori swept gently with a gentle breeze coming from the opened side door. A vision of nature just as I recall thinking when we had first met. Naori must have been smitten when she had purposed, I can imagine nothing else for them, certainly Kou would have had her curled around his pinky. 

"Did something occur last night?"  A tilted upturn of amusement give the man a lift to his eyes, causing only further graceful fay like elegance around him. Naruto was caught captive for a moment at his friend's stunning disposition, a type of charm he knew he could not accomplish from his own position of irrationality, brash quick thinking would always curve him from charming beauty as Kou, and so many other omega's within the Uchiha displayed with ease.

Plowing forward, withholding his own considerations of self-inferiority, a smile filtered upon him unaided. "Oh Kou!" Not knowing how to display itself his invigoration came out as a jump, continually up and down, with the need to spill secrets he could not keep. Vaguely he noticed jeweled eyes watching him in laughter. "He proposed to me!" Sheading formal tone, he could not contain his own conduct of jubilation, so familiar as rarely reared by circumstance, the last present time being the time spent with his mentor. A change most welcomed by someone of his upbringing.

With a sudden sweep of indecorous thought Kou jumped up as well, bouncing around with him, and slamming down on the floorboards with no care to the sound of damage caused. "He purposed?!Oh! Oh! Oh! Naruto-kun! Surely you must have him ensnared!"

"Honestly.... I wake to find this ridiculous behaviour, and words spoken as if we alpha are mere flies caught in entangled webbing." Naori entered in normal conduct silent steps, measured behind the sounds of the raucous jumping of her counterparts. Her brow twitching before a bellow stole from her. "Stop that! Before you cause the flooring to cave beneath us!" She had grabbed one of her bride's inner shoes, gripping it tightly and threatening to throw with her ranged hand onto their heads should they not heed her words. Neither of them dared to defy her when angered in the morn, she despised her rest interrupted.

As soon as all four limbs were back to standing firm did they speak to the rattled woman. "Sorry Naori-san"

"Oh! Naori! Naruto-kun bares the most wonderous news!" Realizing they had spoken at the same time they both grinned with twin smiles, delighted by each other in giddy attunement. Only in hearing her spouse's words did the Uchiha drop the sandle, shaking her head and moving into the kitchen as to prepare either breakfast or tea. A posturing of defeat weighing down her shoulders.  "Hush your complaints!" The woman granted her wedded a upwards glance with her ash toned eyes, and the smallest of sighs passing through smiling lips. Before she looked to the man with the news, Naruto was still smiling with the inability to stop himself as he scratched the back of his neck.

"Madara-sama proposed to me last night." Despite his own enthusiasm it came out a whisper to the harsh eyes Naori always held firm. Her mouth dropped open as her eyes clenched shut, tightened to the point where her skin looked to be pinched. She shook herself, as if losing an unpleasant thought, not to be had in polite company.

"Damn." Was all she said for a moment, however, the silence she left stretched long. Even the cheerful Kou was tampered by the aura his spouse was displaying. "I was under the impression we were in possession of more time. You certainly have not learnt all you must to be Madara's bride." With eyes once more opened Naruto was faced with a serious expression beguiled to that of a battle scarred visage. "Kou, you will teach him first of the type of attire he need wear for the official proposal ceremony, I will instruct upon edicate, then we will begin with presentation." Already the young man found himself backing against the wall, in frail attempt of escape.

"Certainly the ceremony cannot be that strict... can it?" Kou laughed first, however in looking upon his face of horror, quickly mellowed.

"Oh dear, Naruto... Uchiha are very formal, all edicate must be followed, it is simply proper conduct."  From this he gathered that in agreeing to marry the man whom he knew brought blossoming affection, he had sealed upon himself a clan of rigidity. Perhaps more daunting then that of the Hyuuga. Questioning if this decision based only on his own intuition was the correct one indeed, if only to save himself from the torment of Naori's stern lectures.