AN: Short chapter I know, I'm kind of stuck at the moment. Hope you like it though.

Hashirama had felt his demonic chakra when he first met Kurama, a demonic chakra that he had felt before.

The Kyuubi.

It didn't matter that he was in a human form—Hashirama knew who he was. What he couldn't understand was why he was staying with Takara, why he was in that human form and where Takara had meet Kurama before.

It was obvious with the way they moved together. They moved with the ease of years of knowing each other.

Part of him wanted to grin grimly because it was only Takara that could go out for revenge and come back with a gaggle of children and the Kyuubi in human form.

But he trusted Takara, had known her since he was a child. Takara had been the only one who had believed in his dream, had been Mito's guard and friend.

So he wouldn't prod for answers. It was better that the Kyuubi was with Takara instead of still being under Izuna's control.

ROOT was Madara's addition to the village, the silent ninja that would do the nasty things that their shiny new village couldn't be connected into doing.

He had been leading his secret division despite his disability, but knew he couldn't keep running it. There was only one person he trusted to lead ROOT.

And that was Takara, whose loyalty had always been strong, and had never hesitated from doing what was needed—never mind how nasty it was. Her recent revenge against the Kaguya was proof of that.

She was cold, calculating and loyal.

In Madara's eyes she was prefect.

But he would have to wait till the war was over, till Takara carried Izuna's broken and dead body through the gates of Konoha. Because Madara knew it would be Takara that would kill Izuna, because he knew his brother will gun for Akio.

And if Izuna does hurt Akio, Takara will go on a rampage to avenger her son.

She would bring the body back, Madara knew. If only so Madara could say goodbye to his brother, the brother he had loved dearly before he had become twisted.

Long slender fingers ran soothingly through long red locks as Mito slept with her head pillowed on Takara's lap, her eyes still swollen from her fit of crying.

Mito was pregnant. Pregnant with Tsunade's mother or father, and she was terrified. The war was still going strong, there was battles being raged as each side tried to get to one of the Tailed beasts first.

Civilians were moving in drones to one of the ninja villages after their villages had been destroyed in the fighting.

The undertakers seemed to be constantly blowing out smoke as they burnt another body of one of the fallen.

The hospital was constantly full, medics taking on triple shifts to keep up with the in-coming injured shinobi and civilians that were caught in the cross-fire.

Other villages were being built, wary eyes were fixed on these smaller ninja villages on both sides. Each wondering which side the new village will fight on.

Children were being trained too young to fight and kill for the war. Mito was terrified that her child would join them, would go out on the battleground and brought home dead.

Izuna had to be killed, she needed to cut off the head of the snake. His army would flail without his lead—they could be more dangerous yet easier to deal with at the same time.

Her poor Mito-chan was terrified and Takara needed to help her.

Hashirama wouldn't stop her from going out on to the battlefield, the other woman could easily take care of the children, and Kurama would love to join her to rip apart the enemy, especially those that had treated him like a mindless weapon.

It was easy enough.

The Warring States hadn't been anything like the war she came from so she had no difficulty fighting. This war, The First Shinobi War, was too much like the war that she had come from, the war that brought her here and the war that destroyed so many of her loved ones.

Nights were filled with nightmares that Kurama tried to sooth while days she fell back into her old habits.

A daze of indifferences and calculation surrounded her as she killed the enemy with simple taps to the chest—a spike of chakra stopping or destroying the heart—a single punch to the chest or head, chakra scalpels to the throat. It was easy to kill someone.

It was harder to heal the dying, to stop the bleeding out and such.

Takara watched as newer medics broke a little bit each time their patient died under their hands, broke as their patient screamed and begged to die, broke when they had to ease their suffering by a single tap to the chest.

Kurama had an easier time, though he may look human, he was still a demon. It was easy for him to rip apart the enemies with dark glee. Takara was still human, despite how sometimes she didn't feel like one anymore, so it was harder for her—even after all these years of killing.

Akio had found maps with old Uchiha strongholds marked on them, scattered all across the nations.

Groups were made and split up to attack them because they were sure that was where Izuna and his army was hiding.

Akio went with one of the groups, his group found the one that Izuna was staying at.

When Takara was brought news that Akio—her son, HER SON!—had been taken back to Konoha in critical condition, part of her screamed.

A scream, a howl, filled with rage, agony, grief and the lust for revenge.

Her killing intent that burst out of her brought many to their knees, and Kurama barred his teeth in a bloodthirsty grin.

Uchiha Izuna's days were numbered.