Ch 5 : The Uchiha within

Mayumi had a nightmare—one filled with dread and a creeping sense of danger.

She saw nine massive beasts looming in the shadows, their presence alone enough to suffocate the air around her. Their glowing red eyes burned with hatred, and their snarling mouths trembled with a silent, violent hunger.

Without warning, the beasts opened their jaws wide and began to form enormous, pitch-black spheres of chakra. The air crackled with pressure as each one gathered power. Then, all at once, they hurled the chakra bombs straight at her.

A deafening explosion followed—blinding, all-consuming, tearing the world around her into nothing but fragments of dust and silence.

Mayumi woke up with a sharp gasp, heart racing, sweat clinging to her skin.

Even awake, the fear still clung to her like a second skin. Something about that dream had felt far too real.

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Mayumi had the day off. It had been too long since she last visited her mother and little brother, so she decided to pay them a visit.

Izuna, who was about to turn one, could already stand steadily and was beginning to speak in disjointed, adorable syllables. When Mayumi entered, she found him intently shaking a toy rattle, completely absorbed.

"Izuna… Nee-san came to see you," she called softly.

He looked up, rattle still in hand. Instead of smiling, his lips pushed into a tiny, pouty frown — that distinct upper lip of his curling just so, a little gesture he had begun doing more and more. A visible sulk. As if to say, Where have you been? Why did you take so long?

It had been too long since she last came.

Keiko's footsteps broke the moment. She entered the room with her usual grace, but the second her eyes landed on her daughter, the ease in her shoulders vanished. Her gaze narrowed in on Mayumi's arms, layered thick with fresh bandages — white cloth stained faintly with traces of healing salves.

"Mayumi… what happened to you?"

"Oh, these?" Mayumi smiled faintly. "Just training injuries. Nothing serious. They'll be gone by tomorrow with some ointment."

"Nothing serious?" Keiko's voice trembled as she moved closer, her gaze darting from bruise to bruise. "Look at you. Every part of you is covered in black and blue… Mayumi, stop this training at once."

"Mother…" Mayumi's smile faded slightly. "There are only a few weeks left before the three-month mark. I can't stop now."

"Why are you being so stubborn?" Keiko snapped, frustration rising in her voice. "Even your brothers didn't push themselves this hard."

She noticed the uneven cut of her daughter's hair, how she'd grown thinner, how her skin had taken on a dull, bruised tone. It pained her.

Keiko had decided long ago that while the boys might be raised by their father, she would raise this girl herself — nurture her gently, protect her. So why… why did this child insist on hurling herself into danger?

"I've heard about the teacher your father hired. They say he's harsh… even cruel to his students."

The accusation hung in the air. It wasn't unfounded. But Mayumi couldn't agree.

"Takaro-sensei may have a temper," she said quietly, "but he's a capable teacher."

"Oh really? And these injuries? Are they your reward?"

Keiko let out a bitter scoff and stepped away. She lifted Izuna into her arms, holding him close, and gave Mayumi a long, disapproving stare.

Mayumi said nothing.

As she held the baby to her chest, Keiko glanced back. Across the room, Mayumi was still standing. Watching. Her eyes softened as they met Izuna's — a flicker of tenderness crossing her face.

There was something achingly beautiful in the way Mayumi looked at Izuna. The way her arms had instinctively reached to support him earlier, like she was already carrying burdens far beyond her age.

Keiko felt a strange pull in her chest — a deep, bittersweet warmth wrapped in sorrow. That quiet ache only mothers understood.

She should have been proud. And part of her was.

But another part… a deeper part… was terrified.

Mayumi wasn't just trying to grow strong.

She was preparing for something.

And Keiko didn't know what it was.

The peaceful days between clans wouldn't last forever. No one could predict when another war would ignite. Everytime Keiko imagined all her children being sent off to battle, her heart clenched in fear. Sometimes, she even wondered if life would've been better had she never been born an Uchiha.

All she wanted was to raise her children in peace, in a world where they could grow up safe and happy.

"…Mayumi," she said at last, voice trembling as she stepped closer. She brushed back a few uneven strands of her daughter's hair.

"Please… don't become a ninja."

Mayumi looked into her mother's eyes.

"Mother...I want to protect myself," she said softly. "And if I can… I want to protect the people I love."

Keiko didn't understand why her daughter was so determined, so headstrong. But Mayumi did. She understood all too well.

Night after night, her sleep was torn apart by realistic nightmares. Sometimes a battlefield. Sometimes blood. Sometimes voices she didn't recognize calling out to her — screaming, weeping, begging.

She couldn't see clearly. Not yet. But she knew it wasn't imagination.

It was memory. Or something like it.

Visions from different angles, like scattered shards of broken glass.

And the more they returned, the more pieces fit together.

They weren't dreams.

They were warnings.

The future.

She didn't know when, or where, or even who. But one day, when the final thread snapped into place and the truth revealed itself, she had to be ready.

For all of them.

"Keiko-sama... Madara-sama has returned — he's severely injured!"

A breathless attendant burst in with the news. Keiko froze. Then, without hesitation, she gently passed Izuna to a nursemaid and asked hastily.

"Where is he?"

Before the attendant could answer, she was already rushing out, her steps quick and trembling with fear. Mayumi followed quickly,

her pulse hammering in her ears.

It had only been a few weeks since Madara led a mission outside the compound — one deemed both highly dangerous and highly profitable. Izamu hadn't been allowed to join, and he had thrown a fit about it.

As they approached Madara's quarters, the scent of blood reached them before the sight did. Uchiha warriors stood outside, armor stained and shoulders slumped, their silence heavy with failure. Mayumi's gaze swept over the group — until one of them noticed their approach and rose stiffly.

"Saburo… what happened to Madara? How did he get hurt so badly?"

Saburo lowered his head. "It was our mistake, Keiko-sama. The Senju ambushed us…Somehow...they knew we were coming. We were outnumbered."

"The Senju..." Keiko hissed the name like venom.

Her hands clenched unconsciously. She had lost both her brothers to them. And now…

"They knew?" Mayumi stepped forward. "You're saying they knew Madara-niisan would be there?"

Saburo hesitated, startled by her presence — then nodded grimly.

"They wanted Madara-sama. That was clear from the start. The way they struck — they weren't after the group. They must've heard of Madara-sama's growing reputation... and wanted to end him before he became a threat."

"If only we had been more careful..."

"Don't blame yourself," Keiko said softly. "What about the others? Who else is injured?"

"Two are dead. Five injured," Saburo replied quietly.

A breath caught in Keiko's throat. Mayumi's hands tightened at her sides.

"This was worse than we imagined," Keiko muttered. "You all must be exhausted. Go rest. I'll stay with Madara."

When they stepped inside, Madara lay unconscious on the futon, his armor peeled away to reveal deep, angry gashes across his torso. Medics surrounded him, hands stained with blood, working silently but urgently to clean and close the wounds. His breathing was shallow. Ribs — broken. Flesh — torn open at the side. His blood had soaked through the bedding and onto the floor.

Keiko stood at the bedside, clutching a blood-soaked towel in her trembling hands, helpless. Her son — her brilliant, untouchable son — was unconscious, fighting to breathe.

"Mother... Niisan will be alright," Mayumi said softly, though her voice faltered.

"He's never been hurt like this before," Keiko whispered, eyes wet.

Footsteps thundered down the hall. Tajima stormed in, Izamu trailing behind with panic in his face.

"What's his condition?" Tajima barked.

"Three deep slashes. Four cracked ribs. They're still checking for internal damage," Keiko answered, wiping tears from her cheeks.

"That damn Senju scum..." Tajima growled, eyes burning with fury. "Cowards. Ambushing him like this."

"We can't just let this go, Father," Izamu blurted. "We should return the favor."

Tajima's gaze shifted to him. "And how exactly do you plan to do that?"

"They went after Niisan. We should do the same. Hit them where it hurts."

Tajima said nothing, but something dangerous flickered behind his eyes. After a pause, he turned and walked out, his silence heavier than any word.

Mayumi watched him go, her stomach twisting.

Would her father really do it? Would he send someone to kill a Senju child, the same way they had hunted Madara?

She bit her lip, turned toward Madara, still bleeding beneath layers of bandages. The scent of blood clung to the walls, sharp and metallic, impossible to ignore.

Rage stirred within her. Her fists clenched at her sides.

They came for him.

And they nearly succeeded.

In that moment, something shifted inside her.

This world had no room for hesitation.

No room for mercy.

A truth, clear and undeniable, surfaced in her chest — like fire licking the edges of her heart.

Whatever happens, she would protect her family.

Always.

A quiet, bitter smile touched her lips.

Yes. The Uchiha blood ran deep.

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