After bidding farewell to Raizen and Hashirama, Madara dashed toward the Uchiha residence, anxiety clawing at her chest. It was late, far too late to be returning home unnoticed, and she already dreaded the questions—especially from her father.
No sooner had she reached the courtyard than a familiar figure leapt from the shadows, blocking her path.
"Izuna? What are you doing out here so late?" Madara asked, surprise flickering in her eyes.
"Big brother, why did you come back so late? Father just asked me where you were," Izuna said, worry etched on his young face.
A cold pit formed in Madara's stomach. Great. Just what I needed—parental interrogation before I even step inside.
"Izuna… wait here. You must help your older brother, okay?" Madara whispered, forcing a confident tone she didn't quite feel.
"I will, brother. Don't worry," Izuna nodded. Together, they moved toward the house—but before they could take two steps, three shadowed figures materialized, blocking their path. A cold, commanding voice sliced through the night air.
"Grab Madara."
"Yes, Patriarch!"
Before she could react, the elite Uchiha Jōnin surrounding them closed in. Madara flailed, but resistance was futile; the three were all trained killers, hand seals ready, chakra flowing sharp and precise. Within moments, she was restrained by a powerful binding jutsu, completely immobilized.
Uchiha Tajima watched silently from the shadows, expression unreadable. The three ninjas guided Madara away, and Izuna's eyes widened in panic.
"Father! Let my brother go!" he shouted, running forward.
"Go back," Tajima replied calmly, unyielding. The calmness made Izuna's heart hammer harder.
"I… I will ask again!" Izuna began, but Tajima's presence silenced him before he could finish.
"If you refuse, I will have the family ninjas fetch you," Tajima said, a quiet threat that made Izuna's blood run cold. He could only watch as Madara was led away.
As she was brought into the study, Madara realized the truth: something about her recent meetings with Raizen and Hashirama had triggered her father's attention. Nothing else explained Tajima's unusual decisiveness.
Once inside, the Jōnin released their hold and withdrew. Tajima sat silently, eyes closed. The weight of his authority pressed down like a storm cloud, suffocating Madara more than any jutsu could.
"Father… why have you summoned me so late?" Madara asked, trying to mask her unease.
"I hear you have been meeting with people you should not see," Tajima said, opening his eyes. Calm, measured, yet radiating a presence that made Madara feel trapped in a vice of chakra.
"No!" she blurted, but her denial rang hollow even to her own ears.
"Is that so?" Tajima's gaze bored into her. Without another word, he closed his eyes and gestured. Madara instinctively stepped back, understanding: her meeting had already been confirmed. Her presence here was a lesson, not a question.
Nothing could be hidden from Tajima. As the future head of the Uchiha, Madara now understood—there are lines even she could not cross. Her father's silent authority was a warning: some power comes with boundaries, and to challenge them recklessly is to invite consequences.
Outside the study, a cold sweat ran down Madara's spine. Her mind raced—not just from fear, but from reflection on the impossible balance she would need: forging bonds with Hashirama and Raizen while navigating the deadly currents of her own clan.
That night, as she lay in her room, the image of her father's unwavering gaze haunted her. And yet, deep within, a fire ignited. Madara's eyes hardened, determination blazing. If her bonds with Raizen and Hashirama were to survive, she would have to cut through the constraints of the past and seize her own path—no hesitation, no second guesses.