Hello there, readers! Thank you for clicking onto my story. This story is dedicated to the HashiMada mini-bang. The topic source is from day 2: reality/illusions. I hope you enjoy the story!
Illusion
"I feel like I am going crazy." I said one day to Tobirama.
Tobirama simply dismissed my concerns by explaining that I was always crazy.
In retrospect I should have spoken to someone more clearly about the hallucinations or illusions or whatever Madara is, before I dove head on into the valley of questionable sanity.
Perhaps it would have made my life easier but if I could go back I would not have changed it.
For many weeks after the battle at the valley, I kept noticing a shadow in the corner of my eye. Every time I would turn to look at it there would be nothing. The shadow's presence slowly frayed on my nerves of the course of several months. Until one day I snapped and withdrew my sword and searched wildly but silently for something, anything that was causing the disturbance. Then he spoke.
"Are you going to kill me again with that sword? That is awfully redundant even for you, Hashirama."
Those words was said so causally that I nearly forgot that he was dead. That these last few months even happened and I was not back to the early weeks of building the village and we were still together and tired but happy.
Madara had stepped out of a dark corner.
I sent out a pulse of chakra to remove any genjutsu.
But nothing had changed.
He still stood there appearing the same as when we shook hands to bring about the alliance between our clans.
At the time I should have attacked, even though there was questions about how he was still alive. Regardless, of those inquires he was still a threat to the village and needed to be treated as such; Nothing had changed.
But I couldn't.
In that moment everything felt so surreal. The moonlight hitting Madara's pale skin making it almost glow. It reminded me so much of that night we spent together. That wonderfully painful night.
I tried to speak but my mouth only moved without any sound coming out. My hands started to shake.
I wanted to embrace him and say countless apologies. I wanted to do so many things.
The sword crashed loudly to the floor. I jumped at the noise.
"Hashirama? Are you there?"
It was Mito. I turned towards her voice for a second-a single second- then glazed back at the space that Madara inhabited only to find that he was gone.
I do not know how long I stood there staring at that corner until Mito's hand brushed up against my cheek.
"Why are you crying?"
"I don't know." I breathed.
Mito lead me silently by the hand back to our bed. She ran her fingers through my hair until she fell asleep. I felt her soft breaths against my skin.
After I was assured that Mito was asleep. I released my tears and buried my face into my wife's red hair, shamefully wishing the strands were black.
Once I regained myself the next day, I went to Tobirama and asked about Madara's body.
He reassured me that Madara was really dead with a slight look of concern.
I simply asked him to leave and ran a hand over my face. I did not know what to do in that moment. I momentary questioned my sanity before shaking my head and diving into paperwork to distract myself.
I thought at the time that this was just a stage of grieving. That over time the shadow that haunted me will eventually leave but I was mistaken.
After our first meeting, Madara became a more present force.
Madara appeared for a second time after the Kage Summit. He shouted at me for my supposed "stupidity" and left in a huff before I could break out of my stupor.
During long periods of time alone in my office I could hear Madara's voice telling me cruel words about the village or how I am slowly destroying it from my role as Hokage.
His words should have upset me but all I could feel was relief.
He was not gone, not completely.
This went on for months until I finally saw Madara again.
The next time that I saw Madara in person was the beginning of many. I was sitting at the Naka River during Madara's birthday.
Now as I look back I can see the importance in this meeting, it was the crossroads of this usual relationship. I could either deny Madara's existence since at this point I knew it was only my sanity in question and that Madara did not somehow resurrect himself. Or I could accept this false reality.
Of course at the time I was not thinking so deeply into the subject. All I wanted was my friend back.
"Look at you, the leader of your village and still getting depressed, disgraceful."
"Our village." I corrected, heart beating franticly. My eyes scanned Madara's body hungrily.
Madara just scoffed and turned to leave.
"I am sorry." I said quickly.
I watched with hands clutched tightly on my knees as Madara froze between his corporeal and shadow form before his corporeal form regained shape as he quickly turned back towards me.
"You killed me!" Madara seethed angrily.
"You forced my hand."
"So what?! Do you expect me to forgive you?! Ha! You are my murderer." Madara sneered before he turned to leave once more.
I jumped up and grabbed hold of Madara from behind. He tensed in my hold but did not break free from it. He felt cold to an unnatural degree. I pushed the thought away.
"No. What I did was unforgivable. But it was you that wanted death's release. That is the only reason I can see behind your actions."
"We are creatures of war, Hashirama. We cannot change what we are. This stems not just because of the time period we live in. But humans will always seek violence. I accepted this and followed my path as you chose to ignore it for false comfort."
"I do not care about human nature, right here, right now, we are living in peace. It should matter, as well."
"So the future demise should be dismissed. You are a fool."
"The future is not going to be ignored. But now I just need you by my side. You belong here. You can never forgive me, you can curse me, you can drive me to my death but please don't leave not again.
Even though we probably only stood together in silence for a few minutes but it felt like hours to me.
He felt so real.
The soft fabric of his shirt, the coarse texture of his hair, his tense muscles slowly relaxing, his scent that was undeniably Madara, it all clouding my senses.
But he was dead.
He is dead.
I am his killer.
This should not be happening.
This has to be an illusion.
This is an illusion.
But-
"Fine."
I don't care.
And cut! This is actually my first time doing a story from the first person point of view, so hope that this doesn't suck too much. Please tell me whether or not I was able to capture Hashirama's character. Thank you for reading and please leave a review!
