Uchiha Leader

The ceremony had ended weeks ago, but the air was still thick with discomfort. The union between an Uchiha and a Senju... you never thought your name would end up being used as a bargaining chip for a peace that seemed more like an illusion than a true agreement. From day one, Madara didn't bother feigning affection. His gaze remained the same as when he fought on the battlefield: hard, arrogant, distant.

The shared room in the Uchiha residence was spacious, but cold. They never shared the futon. Madara came home late or didn't even sleep at home. When he did, his presence felt like a sharp shadow, closer to an enemy than a husband.

That night was the same. The sliding door opened with a soft creak, and you saw him enter. His dark kimono slid elegantly across your body, his expression firm and imperturbable. He barely glanced at you.

"Don't expect anything from me." His deep voice echoed like a constant reminder. "This marriage is a strategy, nothing more. Play your part and don't interfere with my business."

Each word was a sharp blow, a reminder that your existence to him was nothing more than a symbol, a sacrifice he'd never give her the luxury of being a companion. He walked to the opposite side of the room, shed his haori, and sat by the window, as he always did, gazing into the distant torchlight.

There was no warmth in that house. There was no closeness in looks or words. Madara, stubborn to the core, refused to give in, refused to come closer. To him, you were Senju before you were a wife. Living proof of his renunciation of war… and of his deep resentment.

That night, like all the others, the space between you remained intact. Unbroken and unbridgeable.