Madara stood in front of you with the same soft gaze that he had always used with you. Four years. It had been four years since you'd last seen your father when he'd gotten arrested by the FBI at the revelation of his ties with the Mafia and the shady background of the Uchiha Corp, and he broke out of jail. He didn't know you had a part in the demise of his tyranny, and he never will: you were 15 then, after all.

Madara was sitting in the office of his new hideout, but he stood and walked over. You hissed and moved away when he attempted to caress your hair lovingly, so he grabbed your arm and forcefully brought you close, his hands running through the strands of your hair.

"My daughter," Madara spoke softly, his eyes scanning you lovingly.