惚れた欲目|love is blind
The pain dulls with each time, so say the warriors or travelling sages. Lies. They brazenly spit their words and stupefy the man's mind. Blood gathers in his mouth, bubbles and rolls in a thin trickle down his chin. There are red stains everywhere - in his lungs, in his teeth, on his skin, on the ground. He's like a crumpled piece of rice paper that's been put down to rot among forgotten memories.
His hand barely twitches. It's all warped, and twisted and a disgusting sight. Huh. If his hands that did the impossible now are so horrible, then what is his body and spirit worth. There doesn't seem to be a single living particle left on him, just bloody blue divorces. The divorces of the last hours.
He gasps, the blood keeps coming, bubbling and rolling. His soul is about to leave its vessel, his chakra grounding, for the first time his cold is soothing, balancing. Now the icy and boundless waters of his power don't seem so prickly, his body doesn't freeze, no longer need to feel the touch of the scorching sun and the greedy furnace of fire.
It is only worth it to let the abyss lure him into the void and the depths, into the nimble claws of Ryujin's dragon.
He flounders, legs stiff, bones sticking out of his chest where his heart beats. It seems tomorrow he was supposed to talk to Uchiha Madara, with the burning flames of his chakra. A failed lover. Him or not him. So much hatred, so much rage. Touch it and it will devour you with its flames. Though what should have killed him warmed his ice. Reach out and there's the centre of his heart. The elders were right, the cold inside him, himself, was not made for such feelings.
Feelings were for humans, and he was just a demon. A white demon.
He smiles, mouth smeared, eyes wavering, breathing quite difficult. Chakra signatures flicker in the distance, quite far beyond the periphery, beyond the horizon. Mito will give birth soon, she and her brother will have a glorious child. All tanned and as bright and colourful and cute as his brother. He's a right little rascal. Too bad he didn't have time. Didn't have time to hold him in his arms, touch his chubby cheeks and congratulate aniki and his sister-in-law. Hashirama will cry bitterly, the sun will begin to fade and smother everyone in its light.
But Mito will be there, always be there.
He stares into the distance, into the vast sky, tears rolling down, one by one. Pity comes over him, what a lousy end awaits him. With a huff he has to look around, and feel all the chakras in the neighbourhood. They made it, they managed to escape. Hiruzen, Danzo, Kagami, Homura, Koharu, and Torifu. Well done, they made it, no more children's graves, no more deaths. One life for the sake of an entire village. He's willing to give everything. Izuna must be laughing in his coffin, Madara will finally breathe easy, and his brother won't falter and worry over nothing. He can be calm. Soon the new Hokage will be announced, soon Konoha will be alive and awake again.
Long live the new Kage...
...But he wanted so badly to put his petals of feeling in the hands of the burning fire. To leave a light kiss near his temple and smile just a little.
Fool.
Your emotions are nothing
Your feelings are nothing.
He hates you, despises you. Destroy these flowers of love. Destroy them.
He laughs bitterly, coughs up blood and takes a few breaths. Screams erupt, someone screaming his name, calling and pleading. The sun and flames merge, swirling, but it is a mirage, he is far, far away. The mind in the last minutes of life likes to give the happiest moments and hide them in a cloud of false, but pleasant dreams. Everything seems to him, and it feels so good. The pain recedes, the water engulfs his body, the world slips away and darkness creeps up biting the heels of his feet.
He closes his eyes, the last bit of his soul coming off his lips, his body stops shaking. The shinigami picks him up, gently, carefully, holding him like a child and mooing softly.
I think this is death, his bottom line. It's all right, it's long overdue, the wheel of life is waiting.
Only...
In the next life I want to be the most ordinary person, with a full family, I want to love and be loved, I want a world without war, without death. In the next life I want to be happy.
__________________________________
Madara was late. His legs are shaking as Hashirama is frozen in denial, vomiting on the ground. He can't believe his eyes.
No. No. NO!
He can't be stopped, his arms reach out, his knees bend and there's the frail body in his hands. It's clammy, icy, no cute dimples, no fire in her eyes, no frowning eyebrows, no husky laugh - it's completely empty, no soul.
No. No. Impossible
Madara Uchiha is too late, Tobirama Senju is dead. No more furious fights, no more training, missions, bantering and working together. No possible touches of fingers, light kisses, tender evenings, sweet confessions and let go of grudges. The wedding will never happen, neither will their life together.
Fool. An idiot. Stubborn fool.
Coward.
Madara gasps, tears falling, sharingan spinning. Hashirama sobs and howls behind him.
Madara was too late because of his pride, hatred and anger, he had lost his heart, his centre, his other half.
Madara Uchiha is left all alone.
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