Uchiha Leader

The ceremony had ended weeks ago, but the air remained heavy 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 felt more like an illusion than a true agreement. From the first day, Madara didn't bother to fake 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. You never shared the futon. Madara would arrive late or not even sleep at home. When he did, his presence felt like a sharp shadow, closer to an enemy than a husband

That night was no different. The sliding door opened with a slight creak and you saw him enter. His dark kimono glided with elegance, his expression firm, imperturbable. He barely spared you a glance

—Expect nothing from me. —His voice, deep, resonated like a constant reminder—. This marriage is a strategy, nothing more. Play your part and do not interfere with my affairs.

Each word was a blunt blow, a reminder that your existence to him was nothing more than a symbol, a sacrifice to whom he would never grant the luxury of being a companion. He walked toward the opposite side of the room, shed his haori, and sat by the window, as he always did, contemplating the distant fire of the torches

There was no warmth in that house. There was no closeness in glances or words. Madara, stubborn to the core, refused to yield, refused to draw near. To him, you were a Senju before you were a wife. A living proof of his renunciation of war… and of his deep resentment

That night, like all the others, the space between you remained intact. Intact and insurmountable