Madara woke up with a new scar on his arm. It was there when he opened his eyes, a thin brown streak where there had been only pale unbroken skin when he went to sleep the night before. As he rolled over in bed and stared at the ceiling, yawning so wide his jaw very nearly dislocated, Madara scoured through his memories out of habit. Had he seen anyone he knew with injuries on their arm recently? Not that he could recall.

It wasn 't exactly a massive source of irritation that he couldn 't think of anyone. Like everyone else, Madara had been living with the random appearance of new scars on his body since he was very young and if he hadn 't figured it out in the last twenty-seven years then his odds of doing so now were really only slightly better. Making peace and building a village had certainly given him the

opportunity