Tobirama was not ready to be tackled mid-sprint by a blur of dark spikes. Nor did he expect to wake up two days later in the heart of his enemy's territory. But there he was: wearing unfamiliar silks (that felt like absolute heaven) in a bed foreign to him, with an all too familiar chakra waiting outside the door. As if all of this wasn't odd enough, the last thing he expected was to see Madara's tear-streaked face when the door finally opened, and for the man to come crawling into bed with him seeking comfort. Wasn't he supposed to be a prisoner? This was a book I spontaneously decided to write after years of not writing any sort of story so we'll see how this goes. Hang on, it's gonna be a bumpy (and possibly emotional) ride. I had absolutely zero intention of people actually seeing this story, but I'm so happy you guys did because everyone who reads and comments absolutely makes my day 💜💜

• Los personajes pertenecen al maestro Kishimoto. Pareja: Madara Uchiha × Mito Uzumaki • Sólo diré que espere que les guste como a mí. • Portugués e Inglés al «Español»

Izuna était mort. Cette phrase ne cesserait jamais de tourner en boucle dans son esprit brisé. Les temps de guerre s'accentuaient, la mort guettait son clan, Madara n'avait plus qu'un seul choix : une union avec les Senju pour créer le village dont il rêvait enfant. Mais la paix possédait un prix inconsidéré, au point d'en devenir illusoire. Quand toutes les convictions d'un homme explosaient, sa déchéance n'en était que plus destructrice. Après l'abandon des siens, l'incompréhension de son ami le plus proche et les mensonges sur son compte, Madara comprit une chose. Lui seul avait le pouvoir de créer un monde de paix.