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Tajima looks down at his newest son, his baby boy, and marvels at the tiny curl of hair that grips his finger tightly.It grows longer and thicker when he tugs on it, pulling in the flickering shadows cast by the fire light to feed itself, and a small eye opens up in the depths of that darkness - an eye that's a perfect match to the dark eyes which blink sleepily up at him from Madara's face.Six generations without, and now, finally... they have been blessed once more.A true Uchiha lives among them again.This... is a cause for rejoicing.And it will be, as soon as he tells the clan.At the same time, Tajima can't help but feel as if there's something missing. Like the gap of a tooth or a broken step in the dark, just waiting for an unwary foot, it's an absence sensed more than seen.It’s a feeling he's become accustomed to ignoring however, an old wound that's long since scarred over, one that only hurts when pressed. He said goodbye to that future a long time ago, and though Butsuma's blood is strong... surely it's not strong enough to match this?If Madara awakens the Sharingan, and all of his eyes follow... the power he will wield...Tajima bites into his own lip and presses his red-stained mouth to his son's forehead, giving Madara his first taste of blood. "Welcome to the family," he whispers into those tiny ears, willing life and love into the small body which fits so perfectly into his arms. "Son of my blood and heart."Yes, they have been blessed indeed.A few more years, time enough for Madara to grow... and the war will be all but won.