Chapter Text
Madara Uchiha startled, coming to with a headache and a groan. The first thing he noticed was that he could not see; something was wrapped tightly about his face, something dark that covered his eyes and blotted out his sight entirely. When he reflexively reached to remove whatever it might be that obscured his vision, he realized he also could not move his arms or hands; they were bound tightly to his body by a straightjacket that girded his torso.
After taking a moment to take these two facts into account Madara sat up, noting by feel that he had been laid out upon a soft bed. He used his feet and toes to get the dimensions of it as clearly as he could and deduced that it was shaped something like a hospital bed; a simple mattress on a metal stand around three feet in height from the floor.
He extended a foot and discovered that the floor was exactly where he had expected it to be, further bolstering his guess as to what sort of bed he had been laying upon. A hospital... then he had been healed? From what? His mind flashed back to the last events as they had played out in his foggy memory.
Deciding that today was the day to start the next step in the grand evolution of his plans for the Infinite Tsukuyomi, Madara had once more embroiled himself in a battle with his old rival Hashirama, and they had fought each other close to the Leaf Village, at a river pass the two of them had often played at together back when they had been friends as children.
Before reality had pulled them into the feud between their respective clans, before Tobirama had slain Madara's only remaining brother and before Madara had forsaken the peace the two of them had worked to create for the farce that it was. Madara had been certain that today he would take victory, slay his former friend, and achieve his dreams...
But the battle had gone down a path unpredicted; Hashirama had proven that Madara's conviction concerning killing his rival had not been perfect, as seeing the other man's dying body fall into the shallow river's water had made Madara hesitate and drop his guard. Hashirama had tricked him, and only too late had Madara realized that the body he saw was a fake created by Hashirama's jutsu.
Quiet as a cat, his chakra holding the soles of his sandals above the water so as not to make noise in splashing, Hashirama had taken his back, and as a surprised Madara had wheeled far too late to face the attack, the taller man drove the haft of his sword into the base of Madara's skull. Madara focused on the aching spot on his head now; yes, Hashirama had rendered him unconscious.
That severely complicated things, for Madara had taken measures to safeguard against his own defeat and subsequent death by writing a contingency into the sharingan of his right eye, with the Izanagi technique. However, he had never imagined an outcome where he would end up both defeated and alive. He frowned at the sting of such a failure as allowing himself to be captured.
With his eyes covered as they were, he could not activate his sharingan to change the Izanagi, so he could not use it to rewrite his fate, and it would not activate on its own unless the predetermined condition of his death was met. Having his hands bound meant he could not perform the signs needed to create jutsu, so he could not use any techniques to escape in a more physical manner.
He attempted to summon the Susano'o as a last resort, but quit the attempt immediately when he nearly blacked out from the effort. That massive chakra needed for that ultimate move of the Uchiha was far more than he could muster at the moment, and as he finally took note of his own physicality, he came to understand that he felt incredibly weak. How long had he been out?
The battle had been intense, and both of them had pushed themselves so far that they had been resorting to physical blows, Madara no longer able to wield the Susano'o, and Hashirama having depleted all of the nature energy granted him by his Sage practice. He felt weaker than he should even if that fight had still been recent, though. He frowned as he realized the most likely answer; medical ninja had likely sedated him.
With the right drugs in his system, it could take a very long while for Madara to reaffirm his grip on his own powers. He let out a sigh as he thought, his feet kicking absently over the side of the table. He had prepared one more item as a contingency should he fall in battle; he had bitten Hashirama in the arm, and placed a piece of the other man's flesh below his tongue.
Crude, yes, but the idea was that the entire reason he needed to kill Hashirama in the first place was to take the man's flesh and the inherent power in it and merge it with his own to obtain the legendary Rinnegan. In the case of his death, he would have the Izanagi revive him, rewriting the events as needed so as to make Hashirama's killing blow less than lethal. Then he could use the small token of stolen flesh to create a fusion between the powers he shared by birthright with Hashirama.
Beneath the blindfold covering his face Madara's eyes went wide; he was moving his tongue all about but the flesh he had taken from Hashirama was gone! He had been considering swallowing it and hoping that his body could absorb enough of Hashirama's abilities to mimic the man's ability to use healing jutsu without signs. If he could do that, he could detoxify himself and then proceed to access the Susano'o.
But his prize was gone, and he could only rationalize that the medical ninja whom had sedated him had likely been thorough in their use of their sensory abilities, noted the presence of the foreign matter, and removed it. He frowned deeply; it seemed that in many ways he was set both back to the drawing board on his plans and stumped on a means of escape from his current predicament.
Madara turned his head from side to side, listening raptly, but the room that he occupied offered no sounds, nor did he hear anything at all from what might lie beyond the place he currently inhabited. He was going to need to formulate some type of escape plan on the fly, but his enemies had wisely left him bereft of options in intelligence by depriving him of his senses as they had.
He had hopped down from the hospital bed and started slowly inching forward to see what else might be in the room when his ears perked to distant approaching sound. Footsteps. He listened and counted carefully; it sounded like at least five sets of feet approaching, muffled by a single wall. Some of them were louder than others, signifying a group that was largely varied in personal size.
With a quick motion Madara jumped back onto the bed, so that he was once more sitting with his legs dangling from it, facing the wall he presumed they would be entering his room from, so that they might see him sitting passively when they came. As he had expected, the sound of a door opening on oiled hinges met his ears, and the group filed into the room one at a time.
Madara remained very still, both so as to convey that he was at peace, letting his enemies see that he was unruffled under pressure, and so that he might better hear any subtle noises his new guests might make, wanting to pick up every detail possible, since his ability to observe had been otherwise so severely handicapped.
One at a time the persons whom had come to visit him revealed whom they were through the familiar sounds of each of their respective voices. First to speak was a timber of speech that Madara would always recognize; his onetime best friend, Hashirama, whom had been elected by the people of the village they had founded together as their leader.
"Gentlemen, if you will please take a seat in these chairs provided, we will all settle in and you may ask whatever questions of the prisoner that you like."
Madara frowned; 'the prisoner'. That was very detached and formal for the usually far too familiar and playful Hashirama, so he had to suppose that the people Hashirama was addressing must be dignitaries of some amount of power equal to Konahagakure's Hokage, the feudal lords maybe? Or perhaps...
Another voice pitched in, and Madara's suspicions were confirmed; an older man's voice, Ishikawa of the bee-keeping Kamizuru clan, whom had founded the village of Iwagakure and become its first Tsuchikage. Ishikawa's voice was weak and raspy, a testament to his advanced age, "Thank-you, Hokage Hashirama, we were kept waiting entirely too long!"
A much younger voice that Madara also recognized as belonging to some young whelp upstart student of the famed Kekkei Genkai user Mu, spoke up at a meeting he was undoubtedly not in a position to be voicing his opinion in, but voice it he did, "Indeed! Lord Ishikawa has humored Konoha long enough with your insistence that this traitor to us all live without being made to stand around like that!"
Madara didn't remember the name of the boy at first, but he heard it soon enough as the annoyed voice of Ay, Raikage of Komogakure joined in, "I agree with young Onoki; I'm only going along with all of this because every other Kage here agreed to give this a chance, but I believe this is a colossal waste of time. Look at him; even sitting there bound and blindfolded Madara looks like an arrogant bastard."
Ever so subtly Madara's mouth cornered into a smirk, adding evidence to Ay's claim. He couldn't help himself; these people fought so hard against his plans for so long now, he could not suppress feeling a little happy that he still seemed to be getting under their skin even though he was the one whom was bound and depowered.
The smooth voice of a man Madara respected as a threat sought to calm the others, "But we did agree to see if there was some use to Hashirama's plan to keep Madara around. Instead of complaining, let us think on what questions we might have for our captured enemy." Reto was a middle-aged man whose chakra control and raw power was so overwhelming he had easily pulled every single Shinobi of the desert into one unified city, which they had named Sunakagure.
Madara snorted; every one of these men only followed in the footsteps of himself and Hashirama in combining clans into more powerful city-states for the sake of safety. Hashirama had claimed when they had set out to pull shinobi together that it was for the sake of peace, but Madara had realized far more quickly that naïve Hashirama that others would follow suit in response, and they had.
Now there were five great Shinobi nations, and the potential for conflict had not gone away; instead, now Shinobi had the potential for war on a much larger and more organized scale, which Madara had proven when he had launched the First Great Ninja War. He could only assume that old man Byakarum was also present.
The founder and Mizukage of Kirigakure village was notably quiet at such meetings, preferring to listen silently to the others and take in all opinions before arriving to his own decision. Many thought him wise, but Madara was prone to believe the man was simply dim, and therefore slow on the uptake. With the other four here, that would mean the final set of footsteps had to be that wall-eyed old man.
Seeming to take Reto's suggestion seriously, Ishikawa was next to speak, "Indeed. I would like very much to know why it is that one of the founders of the first Shinobi village decided to declare war on the rest of us..."
Hashirama piped in, "Including his own village, mind you. I know I have mentioned this before, but Madara's own clan, the Uchiha, has been against his actions since he began his renewed conquest."
Madara huffed, his slight smile not fading as he looked away, in turn reacting to Hashirama's words and letting them all know that they were not going to be getting any information out of him with the simple gesture. Hashirama and the others still had no clue and never would, with their eyes that could not see the truth before their faces.
His Sharingan had allowed him to read the sacred stone tablet left to the Uchiha by the father of all Shinobi, the Sage of Sixth Paths, and their blindness continued to impede him from reading the last entry upon the stone that would tell him the secrets to finding a true peace for the world, beyond the meaningless village alliance he and Hashirama had built in their youthful naïveté.
Hashirama thought that Madara wanted conquest, and while that was true in part, it was far from the ultimate goal he sought. He had long ago told Hashirama that a person could not truly know the thoughts and feelings of another person, could not 'see his guts', and that truth remained; there was no point trying to explain his plans to deaf ears and blind eyes.
Onoki could be heard making an irritated grunt, "What a waste of time. He clearly doesn't plan to simply tell us anything at all, and with ocular powers of his level, even drugged your best sensory ninja will have a hard time gleaning anything from his mind, if it is even possible at all. Knowing Madara, he has likely already placed Genjutsu blocks on his own mind."
Reto spoke as well, "Considering that Genjutsu created by a Sharingan is superior to anything any other chakra user can muster, that would be a dead end... have you foreseen this possible outcome, Hashirama? If Madara continues to be completely unwilling to cooperate, how are we going to get answers?"
Madara almost chuckled to himself as Hashirama sighed in exasperation. As Hokage of the Leaf, his rival should really do a better job of concealing his frustration, especially in front of such important ambassadors from other lands. But Hashirama had always been like this since they were children, and becoming a leader hadn't changed his tendency to wear his heart and mind on his sleeve for all to see.
Hashirama spoke, his voice a little strained, "Yes, well I sort of supposed Madara would be reticent to help us understand what he was doing and why, so I asked Second Tsuchikage candidate Mu to come to Konaha and help me create a very special jutsu. You have only been kept waiting on account of how complicated such an entirely new power can be to create."
Madara perked up, frowning. Hashirama constantly got in his way with the raw power he wielded as a Sage and as the reincarnation of the spirit of Ashara, son of the Sage of Six Paths, but the obstacle Hashirama presented had always been a simple matter of finding a way to bypass the man's enormous strength.
Getting the brilliant and rare triple element Kekkei Genkai user Mu to help him do something in secret was unlike Hashirama, and smelled of being his younger brother Tobirama's doing. Such a scenario was certainly unaccounted for, and presented an unknown level of threat to Madara's plans.
Judging by the short silence before anyone else spoke, Madara could only assume that the other Kage were likewise surprised and reacting in a varied array of interested expressions. Reto's voice broke the short respite, "We have already won our struggle against this rogue shinobi... what new use for chakra could you have desired that would require the talents of Iwaga's esteemed Kekei Genkai?"
Hashirama replied, "As you all know my brother Tobirama is quite skilled with sealing and binding jutsu. Taking techniques from our allies in Kusagakure we have designed a jutsu that will seal Madara's chakra, so that we can keep him confined indefinitely without worry that he might activate his Susano'o and cause any more problems."
Madara's eyes narrowed, but it was Onoki that spoke something similar to his own thoughts on the matter, "Binding jutsu is a fine solution for the short term, but every such technique always presents a way to be broken. With his mastery of chakra and jutsu, Madara will end up threatening you again; it would be unwise to allow him to live this way."
With a proud tone to his voice Hashirama disagreed, "Not this jutsu; the reason we asked for Mu's assistance in this was for that very reason; to make a seal that is bound with three elements, Madara would need to key all three elements in order to release it, but since he only has an affinity to one element, it will prove impossible for him."
There was a quiet murmur of speech from the others assembled at Hashirama's claim, but Madara didn't hear any of them. Instead, he gasped in utter shock, his eyes widening underneath his blindfold as he realized how damning such a jutsu would be for him. He gritted his teeth, sharpening his senses again in an attempt to gain perspective on his surroundings. He had to escape!
Ay spoke next, his voice still resonating with doubt as he let his reservations be known, "Even if you have found the perfect way to reduce Madara to the level of a man without use of chakra, he is still a dangerous criminal, and he still will resist any attempts on our part to get him talking. If he has genjutsu programmed into his own mind..."
"He almost certainly does," interjected Ishikawa.
The Raikage had paused, perhaps to glare at Ishikawa for interrupting, then continued, "Even if you seal his present powers, you could do nothing to remove any fortifications he has already put into place. I have heard stories of the Izanagi that the Uchiha possess; we should avoid potentially triggering such a powerful jutsu in our pursuit for answers. Maybe it would be better to simply let him die with his secrets."
Yes, thought Madara. That's the way. What irony it would be if the Kage triggered his greatest defense in an attempt to avoid triggering it. As usual, though, Hashirama stepped in, speaking quickly, his voice more than a little nervous at the change in tone that the conversation had taken, "There is no need to worry about that; we are even safer from the Izanagi if I don't have sensory chakra specialists try to pry secrets from him."
Madara couldn't see them, but he imagined that this only made the other Kage look even more skeptical by the way that Hashirama sped up his speech even more, "Also Tobirama tells me that the Uchiha most often used that jutsu to rewrite their own fates, so killing him might also trigger it!"
With practiced calm Madara didn't reveal the impact that statement made upon him, but inside he was roiling; Hashirama was ruining his trump card, again!
Clearly despite his careful practice in taking pains not to show that this maneuver would foil his efforts, those present quickly latched onto the thought, since most of them had managed their positions by not being foolish, after all. Madara heard a few grunts of acknowledgement to what Hashirama had said, as Reto posed the next question, "Well if you do not plan to kill him nor use jutsu to invade his mind, how do you expect to cull answers from such a notoriously willful man?"
Ay's voice chimed in now, his tone showing inquisitive interest, "Do you intend to torture him? He is unlikely to have prepared his Izanagi for such a thing, as we also would not have thought such a thing possible for you... do you have what it takes to extract answers from a former friend through cruelty?"
Madara stiffened a bit at that; he had indeed never thought to protect himself from such an outcome, though honestly, he hadn't put barriers on his mind as they feared either; in his arrogance Madara had assumed that killing him would be the only option for Hashirama. He had never once considered that his rival would best him so soundly as to manage to take him alive, a mistake he was paying dearly for now.
He listened raptly after Ay had made his question known, wondering if Hashirama would have even thought up such a plan; knowing the kind fool, Hashirama had not, and would be unlikely to entertain the notion even with the pressure of the other Kage. Affirming Madara's thought, Hashirama gave a negative voice, "No, I could not bring myself to harm my friend; this is one of the driving reasons for my desire to keep him alive..."
With a smirk Madara reveled in being right; Hashirama was going to lose this argument, and the other Kage would certainly end up killing him as the safest route to avoid his eventual escape, it was just a matter of time...
"...but I do have an option that might work."
Madara startled as Hashirama explained, "Taking into account that same willfulness you so recently mentioned and my own knowledge of how stubbornly prideful he is, I think that a good round of shaming should do the trick."
Hashirama's rival scowled irritably at the ridiculous idea as a few of the Kage presented their own similar misgivings concerning Hashirama's plan with an array of objections, Ay's being the loudest, "What are you suggesting, that we slap his wrist and scold him? Such juvenile response could certainly only end in failure."
Onoki could be heard talking out of turn and place again, "I agree; Madara isn't the type to be dissuaded by the opinions of others; if you send him on a walk of shame through the village he's just as likely to laugh the entire way at such a pointless attempt to coax a reasonable response from such an unreasonable man."
It probably didn't help that Madara wore a sour expression of defiance to bolster Onoki's words, as many of the Kage could be heard grunting their acknowledgment or agreement that what the young upstart had said was likely true. Hashirama continued to backpaddle, "W-well, I'm sure that with a seal this strong, we'll have enough time to..."
"Spank him."
The room went very quiet when Tobirama's voice cut through Hashirama's failing attempt at persuasion. Ay's voice perked up, "What's that?"
As Tobirama went on to explain Madara's jaw dropped open in disbelief, "He's a spoiled Uchiha brat and you don't want to torture him. Even now he stands there basking in his own arrogance while you all grasp at straws when the answer couldn't be clearer. Humiliate him by treating him like the man-child he is. He wants to enforce his will on everyone else, so let us return to basics and remind him that he is still a young upstart foolishly rebelling against his elders and peers."
Quiet reigned for a few moments, then Ay laughed as Reto questioned, "Would that really work?"
Madara couldn't believe what he was hearing, "What?!" Indignation rose quickly in him, causing him to grit his teeth in a growing fury. They were actually entertaining this idea?
Onoki spoke next, "I... suppose that would be humbling, and Madara obviously hates the idea, so I think you should do it. If we are symbolizing an elder punishing an impudent whelp, perhaps master Ishikawa should be the one to administer the punishment?"
Ay's baritone voice cut through the assembly, "Not him; the two elderly Kage here are entirely too old. I vote that someone strong be the one to hit the fool; the best lessons are taught with pain, and a feeble slapping from an old man won't serve our purpose of teaching Madara a lesson."
Listening to what was going on, his eyes bulging under his blindfold, Madara couldn't even bring himself to dignify such speech with a response, his teeth gnashing in anger that they continued to speak so lightly of him. His fists balled, and he cleared his face of expression; he refused to allow them to get any further under his skin.
He would let them do as they would, seeing as he was bound and had little choice. His only prerogative now was to make certain that this plan of Tobirama's failed. They would abandon it once they saw it had no effect, though enduring the humiliation it promised sat poorly with the proud warrior. Damn that Tobirama!
Reto was the next to speak, "Well if the matter comes down to having the strongest among us dole out this strange reckoning, it should be Hashirama, even if he isn't actually an elder to Madara." Ay could be heard grunting in response to this; clearly, he had thought himself the strongest Kage, but he didn't take his objection further than that, his ensuing silence testament to his decision to let it be.
Both Madara and Hashirama mirrored each other in their response to that suggestion, "What?"
Ishikawa spoke after his long silence, "Yes. I admit my advanced years have gotten the best of my ability to put a strong youth in his place, and by his silence I assume Mizukage Byakarum agrees?"
There was a pause, likely the others looking to the Mizukage for acknowledgement. He must have waved or nodded his agreement or something, because Ishikawa went on, "Through his strength and wisdom Hashirama is the one to have gotten us all together in this alliance to begin with, and Madara is still a member of the Leaf. Therefore, it falls to the Hokage to deal with his punishment."
This entire scenario was becoming something Madara could have never imagined if he had been privy to several lifetimes to do so! He was stunned speechless by the way that things were going, and could only stand there in a state of dumb silence as Hashirama reacted, "Well... I guess that I could do that if that is what everyone desires, as long as doing so means that you all agree to my terms of keeping Madara Uchiha alive."
"The Uchiha clan might have been opposed to Madara, but members of their group would doubtless be affected negatively if Madara were to be executed as a villain with no option for redemption, which is my other motive for keeping him among the living. Contempt for his clan from other clans would also be an issue going forward; true peace cannot be achieved through a violent end."
Madara looked over towards Hashirama's voice on reflex, as doing so didn't actually allow him to see his old friend turned enemy. He waited quietly, further mollified by Hashirama's sentiment about himself and his clan. Was Hashirama really that concerned about him and his people that he is thinking that far ahead? Hashirama had always been kind, but Madara had not realized how far reaching the man's thoughts towards those whom had caused so much harm to his own family had been.
His mind snapped back to the other matter as he was reminded of his own incredulous response by Ay, whose voice resounded harshly, "If you are going to do it, I want to see; I am not convinced that you will give him what he has coming to him for all the trouble he's caused, being as you are so often quick to react mildly. This matter requires a firm hand!"
Madara growled deep in the back of his throat, his anger resurging with a terrible violence deep in his chest, but before he could snap a comment at Ay and the others, Hashirama replied, "I will give you all the justice you desire to see, but first we must move to seal Madara's chakra, lest he regain his powers when the drugs the medics gave him wear off."
A set of hands grabbed him suddenly, and Madara gasped in surprise; there had been two more people in the room whom he had not heard! Of course, without access to his powers, Madara had no way to detect people whom were masking their presence with chakra, so the two whom had taken hold of him and now dragged him from his seat on the bed were undoubtedly ninja.
Not only that, if they were accompanying a host of Kage, they were very likely the recently formed Black Ops that he himself had organized just before deciding that the village wasn't going to be the true path to peace. These men were highly skilled, many of them being Uchiha trained by Madara himself, so his chances of escape plummeted even more steeply.
Even if it wasn't for these new additions, he already had all five Kage to deal with. Two of them were quite old, but even they had achieved their positions by being the best their lands had to offer, with a wealth of experience that made them exceedingly dangerous. With all of them present Madara would have had trouble winning in a contest of strength even if he had his powers.
Without them he had no hope, his heart hammering away inside his chest, nervous beads of sweat pronounced upon his forehead as he gave a shout of dismay when his efforts to kick free of his captors resulted in them lifting him from the floor and carrying him bodily, one on each arm. Already bound and unable to even see his aggressors, Madara was helpless to do anything but be swept along.
The next series of events happened rapidly, the two sets of arms that maintained a fierce grip on Madara hauling him to destinations unknown, especially as Madara could not see to evaluate where it was that he was going to. He focused, recalling that he was in what was likely Konaha hospital, of which there was only one.
From there he did his best to map out the turns they took, and arrived at the guess that he was being taken to the large building at the north side of the village that rested beneath the shade of the mountain that marked Konaha's northern border. This building was the Hokage's office, a place that they had set aside while planning the village layout for the future leader to reside over the community.
Of course, at that time Hashirama had been telling Madara that Madara would be leading the village, and Madara had been full of energy at the prospect of leading everyone into a new era of peace where they could set their hatreds aside and live for the future. But the village itself had other plans, apparently.
Madara had never trusted Tobirama, and likely never could; though Tobirama had the same reasons as any other member of his clan to do so, and though he had been defending himself at the time in battle, the fact remained that he had struck down Madara's only remaining brother. The brother he had sworn to protect, the one he could not afford to fail.
So, when Madara had seen Tobirama on his way to visit Hashirama in the newly constructed office of the Hokage, he had followed him stealthily, and eavesdropped on their conversation. The village had elected Hashirama to be the Hokage, despite the fact that Hashirama himself had publicly elected for Madara to take the role.
As Tobirama went on to explain what had been said, Madara learned that even his own clan, the Uchiha, had largely voted against his role in office as the new leader of the allied clans that Konaha represented. Madara had left then, feeling conflicted over the choices he had made. In part, the distrust he felt from the others was a result of his warlike nature, he was certain. They wanted peaceful Hashirama to lead.
This made a sort of sense, though that did not stop the unease from creeping into him. He had left the other two to their conversation about a future that he was no longer so certain of, and eventually wandered back to his own clan hall within Konaha and found the tablet left to them by the Sage of Six Paths.
Madara grunted in surprise as he felt the two carrying him begin to head downstairs with him in tow. What was this? The Hokage's office didn't have a basement... or at least it had not at the time that he had begun his fight with Hashirama and every other nation in his alliance, which he had done his best to solidify into one country under his own rule.
This secret place must have been built after Madara and Hashirama had begun their series of battles, before Madara had managed to enlist the Nine Tails fox spirit into his service. He blinked under his blindfold, wondering. Whatever had happened to Kurama after Madara had been knocked unconscious? If the beast had gone on a rampage, clearly Hashirama had managed to stop it from destroying the village...
He was jostled from his thoughts as he was suddenly thrust down into a chair, Madara grunting at the unexpected mild impact.
With a quickness that spoke well of their nature as professionals, the two whom had ahold of Madara's arms tied those arms to the seat that he had been thrown into. Madara took a sharp intake of breath and his heart raced as he realized what was going on; he was being bound to this chair so that whatever ritual Hashirama had cooked up could be used on him!
The drugs still inhibited him too greatly for his chakra to be of use, as Madara tried in vain to reach for his Susano'o to save him from his plight. If they rendered him helpless now all hope of recovering from this landslide of setbacks would be gone once Mu's triple elemental seal was firmly in place! In an act of desperation Madara tried kicking, but almost as soon as that had started, they also tied his feet to the legs of his seat.
Rendered completely unable to fight back, Madara let loose a bloodcurdling shout of anger at his helplessness, rocking his chair a little as he thrashed with what limited movement he was still allowed by his restraints. He grunted as something stabbed into his arm, and a young female voice admonished him, "There's no point railing against it now, this should help you settle down."
He blinked under his blindfold, his eyes becoming heavy as his body became leaden. He wasn't truly at risk of falling asleep, not in the heightened state he was currently in, but his body was now far too heavy and lethargic to throw the display of resistance he had been starting. It was all he could do to speak without slurring his words, "I'll... I'll kill you all for this!"
But he knew better just as they did; this was the helpless rant of the defeated. Several voices intoned chants and Madara was certain that they were arrayed around him, likely in a trigram of power as they weaved signs. He growled and struggled some more, though sluggishly, his limbs slow to respond to his great need and urgency.
Madara grit his teeth as someone opened the front of his robe, moments later something cool and wet being traced over his skin. Judging by the almost oily sensation left behind and the nature of the soft strokes, Madara could only guess that someone was drawing arcane symbols on his body, a technique common to very powerful sealing jutsu.
His threats were ignored as he launched a few more, trying his best to rile up his captors, but already knowing that people of this caliber of training weren't going to be thrown off so as to make a mistake all that easily. Still, he tried, because his voice was the only thing left to him that they had not taken. Madara gasped suddenly, his rant ceasing midsentence.
They hadn't been performing their sealing ritual long, but he could already feel what power he had being drained from him into some bottomless well that almost felt as if it was now centered within the core of his own body. His panic escalated as this feeling became stronger, until he could not even feel the nature of his own chakra.
"You... you can't do this! You don't know what you are doing; your villages will never prevent war; it is human nature! We Uchiha are the last chance that humanity has to find some sort of meaning, for it is impossible for us to be as the gods whom came before! I alone among our clan know what is needed to find true peace!"
Hashirama's calm voice could be heard nearby, "You have lost sight of our ideals if you truly believe that war is the path to peace, old friend. Peace begets peace; war only incites more endless war. The only way to stop the endless suffering and violence is to truly dedicate ourselves to the cause of ending those things in ourselves and others, even our enemies."
Another voice, Reto's perhaps. "These are the ideals that created your village of Konaha, and though we Kage have very different principals on many matters, the rest of us could see the wisdom in Hashirama's sentiment, even when that notion was turned towards you, our most recent enemy. This is the only reason we have allowed this plan to come this far."
A gruff voice followed along with this, obviously Ay, "Consider yourself fortunate; with that attitude and having dared to conduct war upon us, you are very lucky to be given another chance at life. It is amazing that you go on with your arrogance when you have already been soundly defeated."
Madara's response to that comment was to scream in fury, a somewhat drawling and less impressive shout than he intended, his attempt to leap against his restraints alongside his yell also produced highly unfavorable results, as his drugged body only managed a slight lurch, his head lolling tiredly as the echo of the hollow sound he had made rang pitiably in his own ears.
The treble of Onoki's annoying voice came right after that, the young upstart daring to actually sound mirthful as he mocked his better, "I'm sure once Lord Hashirama's plan truly gets rolling a lot of that fire will go right out of him. Considering all that he has done and said, I for one am excited by the prospect of seeing him brought down a peg!"
This brought a sneer to Madara's face, but the pain of the sealing came to the forefront of his senses, and he howled in agony over that rather than confront Onoki's daring comments. He could feel every ounce of his chakra drain away as part of the process involved with the initial sealing, his eyes drooping against his will as weariness inundated him.
A standard part of a sealing when it involved chakra; if Madara had any chakra left at all then he might use it to combat the ward being placed against his pull upon it, so the ritual was placing every ounce of that special power behind lock and key. But since Madara had been able to use chakra since he was a child, it was tied tightly to his very vitality.
Normally a person would have already passed out having so much of their stamina drained, and Madara was drugged as well, making his willful fight to remain awake this long that much more impressive, but even his reservoir of inner strength had its limits. With the slow, inevitable march of time his body itself turned away from his efforts to remain awake.
With a low growl of defiance that nonetheless would not save him from being forced to sleep, Madara's head finally fell against his chest, as he became even more helpless to stop the process of Hashirama's accursed sealing. A few moments after that he could feel his breath evening out and see only the back of his own eyelids as his consciousness gradually fell away into darkness.
When next his eyes fluttered slowly open, Madara felt a weakness grip him that he had never known, almost gasping at the sensation that something incredibly important was simply vanished from him. He knew immediately what it was, of course; his chakra had been completely sealed, and he was sensing the world as a normal person for the first time.
He could see a small room with a hospital bed that he was laid out upon, a row of chairs lined up along a wall adjacent to him, a small desk and little else of note. He was in the hospital again then, and his captors had unbound his eyes. Eyes which saw his surroundings in a way alien to him; colors were less vibrant, like he could no longer see the energy in things.
It wasn't just his sense of sight either; he couldn't smell, hear or even feel things the way he had before. He felt dulled, like once he had been free to spread himself into his environment through his senses, and become one with his surroundings, but now it was as if he was locked within a prison made of his very own flesh.
Shaking hands that he recognized as his own moved within his view, as he stared at his own palms and wondered how these hands could still be his. No power flowed through them. He knew without trying that weaving signs would yield no result. Likewise, he wondered if his eyes even had sharingan in them, for the light of that power was gone as well.
He felt no connections to Susano'o, nor did his eyes read the world as they once had. No longer would he have the uncanny ability to predict events through ocular prowess alone, as was the Uchiha bloodline's gift. All of these things processed slowly within him, Madara just sitting there upon his bed, feeling numb.
Hashirama and the others had removed his blindfold, and he was no longer restrained in any way. Were they so confident that he was no longer any sort of threat? He stretched legs that still felt sluggish to the edge of the bed and gradually worked the stiffness from his body, moving to stand as he acclimated to his new lack of prowess.
How did the people of the world whom lacked chakra live like this? He had to suppose that if they had always been so... devoid as this, that they likely never knew what it was that they were missing, and therefore failed to grasp how sad their lives really were. He frowned as he thought on this; he was going to be just as pitiably weak now, except unlike others, he bore the curse of knowing it.
There was nothing Madara detested more than weakness; it reminded him of himself when he was very young. He had been too small, and too powerless to save his family as they had fallen one by one to the bloody feuds between ninja clans. He had risen above what he hated most, and swore he would never again return to such weakness.
Except that now he had. He grated his teeth together hard enough to make a grinding noise as his fists balled at his sides, his fingernails biting into his palms as he growled in a growing maelstrom of anger that could find no useful outlet. His eyes were shadowed with his hatred of those that had put him back into this state.
As if summoned by his intense emotion, the door opened, and once more the Kage of the five great villages filed into the room, only this time he could see their judging faces, and beheld their contemptuous eyes. Last to enter was Hashirama, whom alone among them did not seem to bear him malice or wary glare.
Hashirama gestured to those that accompanied him, indicating the row of chairs, "As before, gentlemen, if you will kindly take a seat, we will continue as we have discussed."
Madara's eyes narrowed at the sight of four of the people he had heard before, perhaps in a similar room as the one they now occupied, assuming that they had not returned him to the exact same room of their previous meeting. The Raikage, Ay, glared right back at him as the dark-skinned shinobi and leader of the Land of Lightning seated himself.
The chieftain and Kazekage of the gathered desert nomads, Reto also calmly returned his stare, the middle-aged man of bronzed skin and wild red hair that was tied loosely into a hood also took a seat for himself, though with considerably less posturing that what Ay had done.
Mu was next, whom Madara knew was not present at their last meeting due to the conversation that had been made regarding his absence, but seeing as how Ishikawa was not present, Madara could only guess that Mu was going to be sitting in as either a representative of the Tsuchikage or perhaps even acting as such, since Madara had heard that he was an elect for the position, after all.
Of course, Mu's apprentice Onoki had again managed to invite himself to a gathering that was otherwise comprised entirely of Kage, the short, scrawny man lurking near Mu as the latter entered. Madara wasn't certain how he kept getting in. He let that matter go though as he stared at the masked face of Mu, scowling; this man had likely been there during his binding.
Quiet, walleyed Byakarum entered last, taking his own position upon a chair without even looking at Madara. At least, Madara was fairly certain that was the case; the way the Mizukage's one eye pointed in one direction while the other pointed in another direction threw him off as to where the man was actually looking...
He didn't suspect that the leader of the Land of Mist was going to be adding much if anything to the conversation to come, though, as it was his usual method to avoid actually doing anything more than being present. Madara was fairly certain the aging Kage was senile. Before he could ruminate further on the matter Hashirama spoke, catching his attention again.
"I'm certain you'd all like to get right to the questioning, but as we discussed in our last meeting, that would yield little result given Madara's disposition..."
Ay interrupted, scowling, "Indeed! Even now he looks fit to attack you while your back is turned, Hokage! Why in the world have you left him unbound like this; I thought he was still a prisoner!"
The Raikage wasn't incorrect; Madara was livid with anger as he stood there feeling so powerless before this gathering of powerful men, especially as he knew they were likely here to decide his fate. With his chakra completely sealed like this, he was fairly certain even the Izanagi could not save him. That ocular jutsu was indeed powerful, but no jutsu worked in the absence of chakra.
And Hashirama had indeed turned his back to Madara to speak to the other Kage, a foolish maneuver to perform in front of an unbound enemy that had actually not surprised Madara at all. Hashirama was, always had been, and likely always would be far too trusting. Madara sighed, losing a little of his anger at the ridiculousness of it.
Despite the opportunity to knock Hashirama across the back of his head in repayment for what the Senju had done to him at the end of their fight back at the river, Madara knew that such an attack would only lead to a fight he could not win... another one, and his heart just wasn't in it. At least, that is what Madara told himself.
The Hokage of Konaha tested that notion with his next words, "Deprived of his chakra, Madara is not only limited to using only Taijutsu, but is still severely weakened due to his severance from the source of his birthright, and will likely be feeling those effects for some time. Many awful things have occurred due to the actions of Madara Uchiha, but still, I believe that somewhere within him is still the man whom helped me build Konaha. He would not attack my back."
Hashirama turned to look at Madara, then looked back to the other Kage again, "I know his actions have everyone crying out for justice to be done concerning his slights against all five of our nations and their people. He has acted with wanton disregard for the safety and property of the individuals of our united peoples, and so it has finally come time to do as we mentioned before..."
Madara's jaw dropped open, his eyes going wide as Hashirama took two steps in his direction, reaching for him. Did he mean to say that they were still going with that plan they had spoken of before? He had half convinced himself that such things had only been said to rile him up, but now that Hashirama approached with intent in his face Madara panicked.
With a quick step Madara threw himself back from Hashirama, his eyes scanning the room for options, but he moved slowly, and his trusty eyes revealed little of use, as Hashirama easily caught him before he had put even an arm's length of distance between them. Grabbing ahold of his sleeve, the Hokage pulled him close even as Madara reactively tried to twist and free himself.
It didn't matter how he maneuvered, though; Hashirama Senju had always been superior to Madara when it came to Taijutsu and physical strength in general, being a head taller and more muscular than the smaller Uchiha, but now the gap in their ability was far more pronounced, as Madara could not supplement his might with chakra.
To make matters worse, Hashirama had been right; he felt weak, his reflexes and strength failing to even measure up to what he was capable of as a young boy, likely due to his difficulty adjusting to using his body in a way that utilized no chakra flow whatsoever. He gasped as Hashirama took a sudden, sweeping turn.
During that simple motion the Senju hauled Madara along with him and into his lap as he sat down upon the bed Madara had woken up upon as part of the same action, drawing the smaller man across his knees as Madara shouted in dismayed surprise at how easily it had been done. Without the use of his sharingan he couldn't predict even basic deceptions like this one!
Foiled and placed into an embarrassing and vulnerable position before his mind could even wrap around the notion of such a sound defeat, the struggle was officially ended, as Hashirama wrapped one strong arm securely around Madara's middle, pulling the struggling Uchiha's hips tightly to his own so that any effort to roll or slide away would fail.
Lacking in anything that would actually help in his effort to be free, Madara instead shouted loudly as he smashed his fists about, trying to catch Hashirama with a solid blow as he flailed in a fit of rage at the audacity of the entire act. For his part the Senju easily avoided most of the punches by merit of having Madara in a position where he could not reach anything vital to hit.
The rest of Madara's sweeping strikes landed without much impact into Hashirama's thighs, legs and back, failing to do any damage due both to Madara's lack of leverage to swing with and of course on account of the fact that he was still so weak. Even without bolstering himself with chakra Hashirama was tough; such feeble attacks would never amount to anything.
Hashirama sighed at Madara, "You shouldn't make this so difficult..."
Madara hissed back immediately, "Like I'm going to take this sort of treatment lying down!"
A snort drew Madara's attention to Onoki, whom stood to the right and behind where Mu sat, and whose eyes gleamed mischievously, "Well, from where we are, it certainly looks like you are lying down..."
Ay gave a short laugh, apparently amused by the spectacle enough not to get onto Onoki for speaking out of turn again.
The Hokage continued to try even, calm words as Madara's face turned beet red with outrage, "I mean to say that it only looks that much more ridiculous when you swing around like that..."
This time in was Ay whom interrupted, "Indeed! You look very much like the petulant child you are, thrashing about in a tantrum when you finally get what is coming to you!"
Hashirama put his other hand on his face, sighing again as Ay defeated his attempt to speak reasonably to Madara, as the latter let out an inarticulate cry of fury and began to haul himself around with all this strength for a few moments, until his rational mind took over enough to realize the futility of it. He was only giving Ay more of a show, after all.
Raising a balled fist at the Raikage, whom he had to twist and look over his own shoulder to scowl at, Madara loudly proclaimed his animosity, "You pompous fool! I toyed with the lot of you because you were no real challenge to me, only investing my real strength into battle with my true rival Hashirama, but I swear to you now, once my power is restored to me, I shall destroy you first!"
Ay's only reaction to this was to give Madara a smug look and cross his burly arms over his chest, his dark eyes challenging Madara to keep his word.
"Enough!" The others quieted as Hashirama gestured to the Kage with his one free hand, "Let's agree not to antagonize our prisoner anymore; try to remember that we have a goal of getting him to see reason. Such a thing will be impossible if we continue this way... He glanced at Ay, "I understand that there is resentment, but we must look past our grudges if there is to be peace."
The large Raikage looked away, making it clear that he did not entirely agree, though his silence at least suggested that he would go along with Hashirama's methods.
Looking from one Kage to the next until his gaze had swept the entirety of the room, Hashirama at last seemed to be content that there would be no further interruptions, though from his position below Madara could only hope for exactly the opposite; this tragedy could not be allowed to continue! He strained in a half-hearted way against the larger man, if only because the situation demanded at least some form of token resistance.
He grunted, his expression souring further as he felt the air in the room touch his exposed skin as Hashirama actually went so far as to yank his robe aside, baring his ass! His efforts became immediately wilder, as the reality of the situation he suddenly found himself in started slowly to inundate itself as real despite his best efforts to reject it. Hashirama was actually doing it!
It was pointless, though, and with wide eyes full of apprehension, Madara looked back over his own shoulder and witnessed Hashirama raise his hand to start a process of humiliation that could never be undone. "Stop!" he cried, but the Senju paid no heed to his desperate voice, and the first ringing sound of the clapping noise made when flesh impacted flesh flatly echoed through the room.
Madara's flailing became even more pronounced, and he grunted as he stressed himself against the hold that Hashirama had on him, despite knowing that it was fruitless; how could he not try? Even knowing that he had no hope, his body, mind and soul demanded that he struggle anyway, as his panicked voice became more so with each panting push against his restraint.
Hashirama shook his head sadly, as if to say 'I told you, you are only looking even more foolish for your wasted effort. Why give Ay a show?' The Uchiha squirming in his lap very much agreed with this sound reasoning, but reasonings had little hold on a person when faced with a situation where every turn is a rock or a hard place!
Either he could thrash about and scream his attempts in a venting rage as he did, looking the fool and solidifying the image the Raikage had painted of him, or he could just lay there and do nothing, which would in and of itself imply at least in some small way that he had submitted. He would not submit; he would never submit, especially not to Hashirama!
These thoughts burned through his mind with fierce determination, as Madara grit his teeth against the pain that was starting to blossom from the repeated strikes to the same tender area at the lower part of his backside where his buttocks met his thighs. Hashirama seemed to know that this area was especially sensitive, and was focusing his considerable acumen there.
At first it was a sharp, painful nuisance, but as the minutes dragged on and the shock of the situation receded, his adrenaline levels balancing out a bit more even if he was still highly agitated, he started to feel it more. And then more than that, and ever ramping up into a greater and greater itch that he could not scratch.
He had subconsciously begun to shift his hips in reaction to the pain, his cheeks rocking left and right, but Hashirama hadn't given him the ability to really move at all, so his limited movements did nothing to stop the Senju's hand from repeatedly zeroing in on those same sore spots over and over again. This was a battle of attrition, and Madara was starting to realize it.
Hashirama swatted him with a cool, even gait, his hand coming down in a smooth arc at a measured pace; he was taking his time and conserving his energy. At this rate, the Senju would not run out of the strength needed to keep on swatting Madara for a very long time. For his part, though, Madara was already feeling the first prickle of an emotion he had thought he'd mastered.
Fear. He might have been convinced without doubt that he could hold out forever, if need be, against Hashirama's plan to break his spirit when they had started only minutes before, but his rational mind could not help but tell him how much trouble he was actually in... After only minutes he was this distressed, so once Hashirama had been slapping him for hours...
The idea that he might eventually cave in had finally rooted itself within his mind, and now he could not shake it, no matter what he might tell himself. His teeth gnashed as he flailed some more against the bigger man, Hashirama calmly holding him as more swats rained down upon him even as he resisted. He let loose growls and cries of outrage as he thrashed, a feeling of hopelessness creeping over him.
That feeling grew worse as Madara looked over at the Kage, seeing the array of reactions that adorned their multiple faces, and regretting that he had glanced that way immediately. Ay wore a pleased and smug look that was almost a grin, his arms still folded over his chest as he watched Madara's struggles to break free.
Mu's face was impossible to read, as only the man's eyes were visible through the mask that he wore, but his student Onoki was certainly smiling, a happy look that said the young upstart thought that the Uchiha was getting exactly what he deserved. Seeing as how Madara had launched insults at Onoki personally at one point, he could see how the boy could take delight in the situation.
Reto was impassive, but his keen eyes stayed locked onto the event, memorizing every detail in a way that made Madara decidedly uncomfortable. The Mizukage at least didn't seem to be paying him any mind... maybe. Madara growled again as he tore his own eyes away from the group watching him, fearing the paralysis of humiliation that threatened to overcome him.
There had to be some way out of this! Once more he looked over his other shoulder at Hashirama, but his face fell when he saw the look on that man's face. The Lord of Konaha was a person whom alternated from extremes of silliness and despondency, always seeming either far too gung-ho and happy, or ridiculously depressed.
But whenever it really mattered, and things took a turn for the worse, Hashirama became gravely serious and focused, which was why those who knew him knew him to be reliable. He wore that face now, his brow drawn down in a look of concentration as he continued to bring his hand down in a careful fashion.
Madara knew without a doubt when he looked upon that grim expression that there was no talking Hashirama out of this; the fool had decided that this had to happen and when he had made up his mind, he was just as stubborn as Madara if not more so! Completely out of options and feeling the strain of the oppressive embarrassment of the situation, Madara felt himself reaching a boiling point.
It all came out in a barrage of curses, insults and death threats. He shouted out everything he could come up with and even took creative liberty in his attempts to cause harm in the only way left to him. The others did not react to his screaming fury, though, not in offense and certainly not in fear. If anything, Madara got the distinct impression that he was only making a bigger fool of himself.
So, he stopped, putting his hands to his face in shame and going quiet, his body twitching in reaction to the continued stinging blows that Hashirama dealt him. He tried to calm himself and retreat to a silent place in his mind; like most ninja he had been taught how to meditate at a young age, but he had never been good at stillness of mind, and the repeated swats jarred him from his task again and again.
Giving up on this latest effort with a mournful howl, Madara ceased trying to find a calm center within and instead returned to his anger, which seemed to be his only refuge for the tide of other things he would rather not even accept feeling. However, no matter how hotly his humiliation caused his anger to burn at first, this fire was like any other in that it could not burn forever.
Ever so slowly, the rate of it matched with the even rhythm of Hashirama's hand descending down upon his posterior, the pains of the punishment being administered to him lapped at his resolve like the waves that crest upon a shore. With each stinging reminder of his loss his rage ebbed and eroded under the grinding wheel of time.
He did not know how long they had been doing this, and time started to feel as if it was stretching out, distorting into a lengthy eternity due to the unpleasantness of everything that was happening, Hashirama's hand almost seeming to fall in slow motion when he looked back to see it. He wanted to keep his anger, his shield against despair, but the more apparent it became that this trial wasn't ending, and the longer he stewed within the notion that his angry shouts were meaningless, the harder it was to keep that fiery feeling close.
Gradually, as his fingers clutched at the bedding of the hospital bed that he had returned to the consciousness of this hell on, the red of his hatred for those whom humiliated him was replaced with the darkness of despair. He had lost, completely and utterly; his enemies would never give him the opportunity to free himself from his cursed fate, and now to top it all off they mocked him and kicked him while he was down!
His life had become a joke, and no one would ever remember him as the hero he tried to be, as they would not allow him to make his dream a reality, instead trapping him in the tragedy that was life, and somehow finding ways to make it even worse than it already had been! His confidence was shaken, he knew, and he knew with equal surety that he was on the edge of a precipice.
If he continued to lose faith, the very same faith that had driven him to fight against absolutely everyone else in order to see his will done and achieve his goals, then he would not only have failed, but he would never again find the will to seek success. His very spirit was being crushed beneath the whispers of the Kage, too low to hear but certainly about him, as they watched with eyes full of disdain.
He was below them, that was what those eyes said. He had put on airs, but they had seen through his charade, and they had always judged him unworthy of being called their equal. After all, even the village he himself had brought together had judged him lacking, even his own clan, his own people...
A familiar burning sensation began in his eyes, a feeling that was not remotely acceptable in the situation he was now in, and Madara ground his teeth together as he squinted his eyes shut against the tears that threatened to loose themselves without his consent. He could not cry! Not here, not in front of these people, not like this!
Wishing was one thing, though, and reality was entirely another matter. While Madara did in fact succeed at pushing back that rising sensation, at least at first, once again time proved to be an ally of his rival's rather than his own. With the slow, inexorable grind of a large, heavy boulder that has started to gain momentum in rolling down a steep hill, his eyes wetted with tears of shame and impotent rage.
His thoughts concerning what all of the Kage so clearly thought of him along with the way that being helpless had always made him feel created the catalyst for an avalanche of raw feeling that he could not possibly hold at bay even given his considerable will. As that sharp, ringing sting from Hashirama's hand echoed out, reinforcing the pain he felt on multiple fronts, his rising emotion finally broke the dam of resistance that he had mustered.
With a gradual, inevitable wetness, his tears leaked from between his tightly squinted eyes despite his efforts in trapping them inside with the muscles of his eyelids alone. Gasping in frustrated annoyance tinged with face-burning humiliation, Madara was quick to hide his face as best he could, putting his hands and arms up and doing his best to face away from the others.
Keeping his teeth grit both against the pain and as a snarl of helpless anger, Madara likewise kept his eyes shut, at first thinking that if he did so long enough that perhaps the flow of tears would end. However, as time passed and more tears poured wetly down his cheeks and dripped from his chin, Madara was reminded what it was to weep, even if silently.
It had been a very long time since he had cried... when had the last time been? It wasn't terribly hard to remember, even though it had been years ago; he had wept the day that his last brother, Izuna Uchiha, had drawn his last breath, dying from the injuries given to him in battle against Tobirama Senju. He had grieved harder that day than he had in many, many years.
And now the brother of that bastard Tobirama was forcing him to cry, in front of the entire council of Five Kage, no less! It had been worth a shot, but apparently shaming himself further within his own thoughts did not cease the flow of tears, either. If anything, dwelling on how the event made him feel only made his emotions that much more poignant!
But things had no gotten as bad as they could, yet... there were two things that could happen to make the situation and how it made him feel far worse. The first was that Onoki of all people was perceptive enough to notice the change in Madara's mood and intuit what he was doing, despite Madara's fierce effort to hide it.
"Is... is Madara Uchiha actually crying? He is covering his eyes... he's crying!"
Madara replied sharply, his tone agitated, "Of course not, you fool!"
Ay responded then, his tone amused, "Then remove your hands and let us see you face, if you are in fact not shedding tears you should have nothing to hide..."
His ears and face felt like they had been set ablaze, Madara blushed so furiously with shame he thought he might yet catch fire. His tone was indignant, but his voice faltered as he refused the Raikage, "I don't have to prove anything to you fools!"
Onoki started laughing then; the fool had the gall to laugh at an Uchiha! One hand on his belly, the short man from the Land of Earth bawled out a hearty guffaw, "He really is! And here I thought this might get boring, waiting for this tough nut to crack...! I never expected him to actually weep!"
"I'm not weeping!"
Hashirama broke in, clearly feeling the event was getting sidetracked from his objective, and letting those present in on what that objective currently was while also giving Madara a second reason in how things could become worse, "We aren't waiting for him to 'crack', nor are we trying to make him weep. I will cease punishment today if we can simply come to measure of acceptance; all you have to do is apologize, Madara."
"Never!"
This evoked a response that Madara did not expect from Hashirama, the former looking over his shoulder to see that the Senju wasn't at all reveling in his victory. No, he supposed he should have known better; Hashirama had never at all been the sort to take amusement to the detriment of others. Having Madara cornered like this brought no smile to Hashirama's face.
Instead, his long, dark hair framed a sad frown on Hashirama's face. His eyes bore wrinkles of concern and abiding sadness for the plight of his friend. Madara looked away immediately on seeing that his rival was literally looking down upon him this way. What sort of image must he strike, striving in vain from this humble and vulnerable position, to earn him pity?
Perhaps he could have better handled Hashirama's reaction if it had been tainted with gloating pride or even bore the sting of his old friend's hatred and frustration over Madara's stubbornness. However, pity caused Madara even more shame, that he should be the sort of person that needed pity, especially from a klutz like Hashirama!
When he gazed upon a raw expression like the one that the Senju Lord showed him then, he felt his convictions waver ever further from the steadfast mentality that he craved, that he needed to wrap about himself to stay sane, to stay safe, and to keep the darkness in his own soul at bay. Again and again, he had told Hashirama, 'No man can truly see another man's guts.'
What he had meant by this was that his philosophy was that two people could never truly understand each other's feelings, and for this reason peace in the world would always remain the vainest of dreams. But when Hashirama's eyes shone with so much concern and compassion that Madara would be a fool to deny it, it put Madara's theory to the lie.
He shut his eyes tightly again, doing his best to ignore that Onoki was making inappropriate catcalls concerning Madara's red-limned eyes, which the young man had seen when Madara had peeked over his own shoulder, and most of all trying not to think about that sad look on his friend's face. Damn that Hashirama!
How dare he! Madara fumed, a deep frown on his face as he struggled with the tangle of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. Somehow Hashirama was making Madara feel guilty, as if he were the one doing something to harm the Senju! Even as that pompous ass continued to bring his hand down, demanding 'apologies'!
The Kage were nearly all talking excitedly, engaged over how much reaction Hashirama was getting out of him, but Madara couldn't even hear their words, even though the fact that they discussed him so openly did cause the heat of his embarrassment to rise. No, all Madara could focus on was the man whom held him and what he was asking for.
Would Hashirama really continue until Madara submitted? Of course, he would. He and Madara had clashed so many times throughout their lives as rivals that Madara had long since lost count. The aggravating Senju had always won, too, bested Madara at every single test of strength that they could think to employ, both in harmless pursuits as youths and also later, in deadly battle.
Hashirama had always spared him, though, always gone out of his way not to kill Madara. How do you hate your rival properly when they were always looking out for you? Even now, with everything pointing him towards the boiling point, Madara simply couldn't hate Hashirama for what he was doing, and that fact meant there was no wall between them.
No anger to shield Madara from the despair of his losses, no willful rage to pull him from the repeated pains he felt, both physical and otherwise. With each stinging swat and every moment that passed with Madara still helplessly being draped over the larger man's legs, his resolve was shaken and tested, bent and strained.
He couldn't last forever and Hashirama knew it. That sad look was because Hashirama knew him, and knew him well. The Senju knew that he would hold out as long as he possibly could, that he would endure a lot of pain before he would even consider submitting, and Hashirama knew that he considered an apology submission, especially to those involved.
Flustered as his body trembled with the physical limits of what he could withstand, Madara pushed a little further than that, giving out one wild cry after the other as he poured every ounce of what energy remained to him in thrashing against Hashirama's restraint of him. It wasn't to get free, of course; it was just all he had left in way of resistance.
He had meant for the sounds he made to be roars of defiance, heralding his last bluff of a truly unbreakable spirit, but the noise that came from him was far more hollow and forlorn than he had intended, his voice colored by his pain and the state of his heart. Hearing that sound in his own ears only discouraged him even more rather than bolster his resolve.
Madara hung his head, his arms and legs falling limply within Hashirama's grasp, as he had no more strength to fight, either physically or mentally, and his body merely shuddered and jerked in time to Hashirama's assaulting hand, only reacting with the involuntary flinching and tensing that could be expected from the repeated application of intense and mounting pain.
It continued to become worse, both his humiliation and the terrible sting that was amplified by all of the swats that had preceded it, his tender flesh consistently more vulnerable to further agitation. As he lay there his countenance fell, and his frowning face matched his tears more truly as he could no longer summon even an ounce of anger, no matter how much he tried to focus on his indignation.
His breathing was erratic as he fell to his own despair, and for some time he just lay there, the others having gone quiet, as even rude Onoki seemed to have at least some reverence for a man whom was being so utterly broken. Finally, after an indeterminable amount of time had passed, Madara realized that there was no longer any point.
After all, at this point he had already given up, and the others knew it; he might as well put words to the deed, for staying silent would make it no less real. No, they would still know and they would have the satisfaction of continuing to watch as he fell from grace with teary-eyed face and hitching breath. Better to let it be official and be done with it.
His desire to put the affair behind him, to end the scene they had placed him in was the last straw, and Madara sobbed out the words in a quiet whisper, "I apologize."
Ay leaned forward, putting a hand to his ear, "That was a little soft, what was that, Uchiha?"
Madara grit his teeth as his expression showed that he was in fact still capable of anger, but he didn't have to reply, Hashirama speaking instead, "You all heard, I believe. Madara has fulfilled the mandate given and shall be allowed the respite promised, please remember that we are attempting to placate old wounds and make a fresh start."
As he spoke Hashirama stopped swatting Madara, though his arm remained wrapped firmly about the smaller man's middle. He gestured to the seated Kage before him, "This is a large step forward, but I'm certain after such a lengthy session you are all ready to take a break before returning to question Madara further. He has shown some compliance, and I think it would do him well to settle with that fact and reconsider his position."
This was met with varying reactions from the Kage and entourage, Onoki and the Raikage immediately making it clear that they had been waiting this long, and wished to see more results, but they were outvoted by the others, whom to a man had become weary of the long, drawn-out affair. "Besides," said Reto, "You do not get a say anyways, Onoki. Lord Mu, you need to reign him in."
Mu glanced at Onoki, whom quieted immediately, but the candidate for Tsuchikage otherwise did not react. Seeming to have come to agreement, the Kage then began to make their way from the room, Ay relenting as he rose with a huff, pointing a finger at Madara, "You are lucky that you are not of Komogakure; I'd certainly not let a criminal like you have it so easy, so be grateful!"
Madara looked away when addressed, not wanting to look at anyone with eyes that were likely still very puffy from so many tears. Mollified, he lay there until they had all left, grunting as Hashirama gently lifted him at last from his lap, helping the Uchiha stand, Madara feeling stiff from his amount of time in that pose.
He couldn't bring himself to look at his rival, but he could still hear the compassion in Hashirama's voice as the taller man lightly rested a hand on his shoulder. He wanted to swat the hand away, but he was feeling too drained to do anything but just stand there, dully looking at the floor as the Senju spoke, "Get some rest; I'll have someone bring some things for you to wash with and become presentable before they must return."
The Uchiha grimaced at those last words, and Hashirama nodded understandingly, "I did not want things to be like this, but they, and you, have given me little choice. I need to continue to attend to my guests or I would stay here with you, I'm sure you have a lot you'd like to speak on..."
Madara huffed and turned from him, his offered back and closed eyes all he needed to convey his feelings.
Again, Hashirama nodded, "Very well, I will give you your peace then. I hope that while I am gone you can reflect and find a way for us to make this arrangement work without any more pain."
Madara's response came in a voice that wavered far more than he would have liked, as he cringed at the sound of his own reply, which he had meant to sound stoic, but which sounded worn and shaky instead, "And if I don't?"
He glanced over his shoulder to where Hashirama stood behind him in time to see the Senju's expression harden again as he let out a small sigh at Madara's belligerence, "Then this is going to be a long and painful visitation by the Kage summit, which will only end when you yield."
Having known what the reply would be before he heard it, Madara still had to look away quickly, lest Hashirama see the fresh tears it elicited from him; he couldn't do this again. One hand unconsciously reached back to rub at the tender and painful flesh of his backside as he shivered at the thought of repeating what had only just happened.
Feeling numb with how that made him feel, Madara failed to come up with a fitting response to Hashirama's threat, the latter nodding to him after a moment of silence and exiting the room, leaving Madara to his thoughts and a feeling that despite how badly everything had turned out, that somehow, it was all still going to manage to get worse...