Eras (MadaNaru)

Chapter 31: Coal Red Lies

It was three years later:

That Naruto found himself staring irate at the vision of Uzumaki Mito. The woman classified well under the banner of beauty, her hair alone carried her. The Uchiha Omega had always felt her strict, the woman held upon her the impression of the richly endowed ladies of class, maintained by the status of Hashirama, despite their reluctant marriage. Naruto had managed to keep himself well known, gladly acknowledged by Senju and Uchiha alike. Further by the Haruno, and Sarutobi clans after their joining to the village, much as one who helped them settle inside a domain of peace where they were not well versed. Mito however, had kept herself rather reclusive for a founder's wife, relying solely upon her bride's status to uphold her. It put him to irritation, mainly for his own large attempt to keep in everyone's good graces, she was simply regarded righteously. What that spoke of his husband made an anger boil hiddenly in his chest.

Uchiha Naru had managed to fortify himself well among his fellow clansmen as a skilled fighter. Naori had taught him rather stoically the manner of katana, and now the former Uzumaki had skill which he assumed to match his former rival -a test which he would never gain opportunity to verify.- Though surprisingly the fans of his predecessor were his weapon of choice, should he need a tool. Although, he could occasionally use his ankle length hair to fight if needed.

Presently, he was making a healthy lunch for Jiraiya when the boy awoke. He had been more excitable lately with his third birthday coming fast in two days, Naru had been prepping hurriedly for the event, while Madara had seen fit to complain over the exaggeration made. Naruto knew it was unlikely to be remembered by the guest of honour, but his mind would remember it well regardless, besides, kept strictly secret from his husband was the much hidden fact; that his own birthday was two days after Jiraiya's -he was turning twenty-two.- and as he had hardly ever celebrated he felt it justified to do so now.

Madara was currently discussing with Hashirama a new manner of defense, an exterior wall to be put in place and monitored by the Uchiha for security. They were nearby, talking happily on the cliff edge, Hashirama himself practically glowing in his pregnancy -Mito had refused to ever bare child.- Naru knew she found the prospect of children or babies disgusting; and he was often made amused that Hashirama had been the one insisting upon having a child through her genetics.

Madara was to be Godfather as it were, and Naru Godmother, just as he had made the Hokage Godmother of his and Madara's son. A fitted option, and the man had cried avidly once the choice was made clear, Naori had been chosen as Godfather -which had done well to quell the irritation she had carried for him after her Hanayome's death.- The Matriarch had felt it owed after discovering Kou had been with child upon his death. As for Tobirama and his sour disposition, Naru had always felt he had none of the fitted positioning required to care for a child, his mind always remained stern set on work. When near Jiraiya he strayed from the three-year-old, even when he simply wanted for a hug.

"It is an incredible notion Madara!" Hashirama's voice echoed over the cliffside, and Naruto laughed when he heard Madara's grumble in return. A small pattering of feet soon followed, as the littlest Uchiha joined him in the kitchen, running in with the speed of a shinobi, and colliding with his Mother's legs, luckily avoiding toppling the plate of eggs, rice, and seaweed he carried.

"Jiraiya-chan! A moment." The smiling Omega placed the plate thusly onto the table awaiting, before dragging his legs -with a young toddler clinging.- To the open doorway.

Then shouted as was appropriate: "Madara! Breakfast! Hashirama-kun, you're welcome to join us! I made enough for all!" Then he picked up his young, happily giggling son, and tossed him into the air. Watching gladly as his ridiculously spiked hair flew into the slight wind blowing through the house. The image of his son blessing him, near slowly with the sight: long black hair sprawled everywhere in a mess just as his father, while his black eyes glimmered joyfully, tan skin the only thing Naruto could see plainly inherited from his genes. Oddly he thought that would make him jealous, but rather, he found himself not caring for the sight.