Summary: The Senju and Uchiha are at war again...but once a year, there is a day of peace when neither side is doing battle. What is that day? And will either side use it to their advantage?
Pairing: HashiMada
Rating: NC-15-ish
Warnings: angst, character death, violence, etc.
Author's Notes: in this story, I followed the old idea of Tobi = Madara...hope it's okay.^^
Was gifted to my sweet Kadaj_chan on aarin for Christmas~~
Merry Christmas!~
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
See You Later
It was a peaceful night, only occasionally ruined by the rustle of leaves and sounds of animal growling and howling in the distance. The river was calm and quiet, not a single rush of wind ruined the stillness.
With a loud caw, a black crow rose into the dark sky, flapping its wings with great speed, losing a few feathers in the process.
A man clad in heavy armor sat by the river bank, eyeing his reflection in the transparent waters. He was quite used to the wild life and did not even bother raising his head towards the representative of the corvine family, nor flinch from the raven's sudden outburst. The warrior has seen and heard worse sounds of agony in his hard life. He has been double-crossed and attacked from behind by cowardly enemies plenty times. The male spent day and night without sleep, keeping on his guard, protecting his life... A mere crow could never scare him.
But then again, this man was one of the fiercest and strongest fighters ever to roam the ninja world. He was known throughout many countries, many legends were already being told of his battles, or rather – slaughters...killings of unfortunate prey that crossed paths with Uchiha Madara, a member of one of the most terrifying clans of the time.
As feared as this man was for his battling methods, there was only one other person that could rival him in power – Senju Hashirama, the leader of the Senju clan. These two men were honored for their bravery and dreaded for the amount of kills they made. No one dared challenge either as they endlessly fought for the right to rule the land. Madara was yet chosen as the leader of his clan, thus why he always struggled against Hashirama: to prove his worth as the leader. With Hashirama's death, he would be respected by his clan members and be able to overthrow their current weak leader.
But it wasn't as easy as it sounded. There was an obstacle Madara could yet overcome. But that night, he swore he would...
Contemplating the plan, he knew it was too late to turn back. He only got one chance out of a million and this was the perfect night.
Tonight, on this cold spring's night, was the full moon – the time when the spirits of the dead were prayed to. The Senju and Uchiha both celebrated, as they were born on the same land, from one family, thus similar traditions remained. Even though they were currently at war, the guarding posts were empty on either side of the river. This was the only immune night, a gift from their ancestors. A chance to rest.
Madara was not a strong believer in the holiness of the spirit world. He thought that this night was a waste of time in terms of war. When he becomes the clan leader, this night will surely be terminated.
Raising his head towards the other side of the river, he tried to look through the darkness, listening for any sound that told him the one he has been waiting for was coming. Because that's what he has been doing since the sun has set – waiting...
On that other side of the river that stretched for long miles, right across from the Uchiha, the Senju had settled their camp. The waters themselves were not deep and any warrior could cross it, if they dared risk drowning in their battle armor. The banks on either side were heavily guarded so there would not be any trespassers, the only exception being this dreadful "Holy Night".
One could never trust anyone during the times of war and Madara wasn't willing to believe that the Senju would not break their traditions and not attack them...but at the same time, their own posts were not guarded, a well-shown sigh of trust. Still, the mighty Uchiha was no fool, thus year after year, for as long as he has been alive, he has been sitting there. Other clan members laughed at him, saying it was a wasteful effort, but he did not listen. He knew better than those lowlifes.
He knew of the strength the Senju possessed: the strength of wisdom, battle tactics and physical power of Hashirama.
"If you freeze on this spot, I will not mourn your death."
Closing his eyes momentarily, Madara expected to hear the rough, but clear voice sooner or later. It always amazed him how soundlessly his rival managed to sneak up on him. Letting a sly smirk adorn his features, he turned around so see a familiar figure standing in the shadows.
Hashirama…
Staying seated on the frozen ground, taken over by his rivaling pride, Madara spoke up, "The mockery is absurd, coming from the man who is soaked wet," a momentary pause, "Where did your self-respect vanish, oh leader?"
Hashirama simply stood there, not quite shaken up by the tone of Madara's voice. Instead, he came back with, "It drowned in the river I had to cross, oh legendary one," though he knew his retort was weak, he knew Madara would still be at least slightly annoyed by that. He hated to be called "legendary". It was Madara's earned title that made even his own clan members fear him. At this rate, he could not pursue his dream of becoming a leader.
At least, that was what Hashirama believed. Madara never exactly told him the reason why he despised the title of the "legendary".
It was quite often that Madara and Hahsirama met like this in secrecy. Neither remembered how it all started and neither cared. They were rivals, but at the same time, there was more... Something that they could not identify drew them together. It was rather intimidating, but challengingly exciting.
Either could kill the other at any second.
Taking in Hashirama's drenched appearance, Madara was quietly amazed by his enemy's skill to be able to swim over the river in heavy armor. He doubted he would manage to do that himself without the use of any jutsu. And using jutsu equaled to being spotted by Sensor ninja.
All this time, the cocky smirk never once faltered from the proud Uchiha's features, "Why do you not come closer, dear leader? Or are you afraid I am going to bite?" a small snort left him.
Frowning, Hahsirama eyed Madara's surroundings. In truth, he has been cautious all this time for any attack from the Uchiha clan. He did trespass on their territory, after all. He has been listening for any loud movement through the tree he was leaning against, for any threatening flow of chakra.
He failed to sense anything for miles away though.
Moving towards his rival until he was standing right before the man, Hashirama refused to leave Madara out of sight.
Finally turning his head to face the other side of the river bank, Madara's face was once again emotionless, "Have a seat, Senju heir."
Hashirama scowled. This man was belittling him. He turned away from him as if Hashirama was no thread…but of course, Madara simply knew full well that Hashirama would not try anything. It was not his style to blindly attack. For generations, the Senju never once went against the honorable way of battle. What foolish weakness for such power… This was exactly the reason they would one day be brought down.
Tonight...
Soundlessly, Hashirama sat down, still eyeing Madara. The moonlight reflected on the man's features, making his skin look even paler than it was. His long mass of hair fell over his shoulders and in different directions, making his face look all the more stunning. Those deep black eyes stared into the distance, as if piercing through the very core of darkness itself.
Despite the fact Hashirama has seen black eyes quite often, which was something Senju inherited as well, Madara's were…mesmerizing. Whenever Madara looked at him, it was as if he could see right through him, even without using Sharingan.
And he probably could, Hashirama concluded. The most frightening part was...he didn't care. He didn't care that his rival had such a control over him...
He was more or less losing it...
Thinking that over, Hashirama barely registered the turn of Madara's head, the lean of that deadly perfect form towards his, the roughness of those lips against his own and instantly, everything around them was nonexistent. It was as if they forgot the very idea of "existence" itself.
Their lips danced against each other, tongues battling for dominance. There was no love in the air, there could never be with them. Instead, a mist of animalistic need and hunger surrounded them, something completely primal and unknown. Something they had no control over and could not understand.
Grabbing Hashirama's stunning long hair, Madara forced the other on his back on the ground. Hashirama noted those eyes piercing his soul, were as cold as ice, emotionless. No smirk adorned those playful features even as he grabbed Madara's arms in a painful grip, forcing them off, trying to gain dominance. Madara simply broke out of the grip and moved over to start undoing the armor, all the while leaning his nose against the other man's cheek, not once letting his eyes leave him.
Hashirama noted the change in Madara, but did not give it much thought. The Uchiha was quiet by nature in any situation. Even during battle...
Was this a battle in some way..? Madara looked so distant...
Armor finally off, the two men lusted over each other's bodies, sucking and licking every part of skin they could find. Madara especially took his time in running his hands over the heated flesh, memorizing it... He didn't even consider preparing himself as he implanted his body on Hashirama's member. He didn't care about the pain that shot through him. He no longer prolonged anything... For he knew...
He knew...soon...
An explosion sounded on the other side of the river, followed by desperate cries and screams of unbearable pain. Blazes of fire rose into the sky, lightening the valley in their horrific splendor. A massacre of the entire Senju clan by the Uchiha followed. The earth got soiled with the blood of innocents.
Crossing the river without armor was Uchiha Madara's idea...
...Because this was war... And war spared no one...
And neither did it have peace, or care for traditions.
A surprised gasp followed by the gagging over his own blood was all Hashirama could let out as he was pierced through his chest, ripped open literally. With the last of his remaining strength, he grabbed for Madara's arms over the blade, glaring at the other angrily, hardly being able to think of what was going on.
This is why he sensed no chakra for miles away...
Madara leaned over him, nuzzling his neck, "Shh..." he soothed the other, licking at the blood flowing from the Senju's mouth, "I will not mourn your death," those words were the last thing Hashirama registered before being stabbed deeper, dying instantaneously…killed like a filthy animal, with no honor, nor a warrior's end.
Madara leaned over Hashirama's body for a long while. He did not know how much time passed before he finally yanked the blade out, causing the now motionless hands to drop to the dead man's sides. Lifeless eyes stared at the sky, as if asking it to take his soul away to a better place.
Standing up, Madara stared at the dead body for a few seconds, before turning to the river, throwing the blade into it and smirking at the sky, as if at Hashirama himself, "...This is where my reign begins..."
In an underground cave, a flower keeps blooming in its own way. For Madara, Hashirama's body turned out to be a lot useful than he himself first anticipated. Not only was he able to create White Zetsu and millions of clones to help him in this war...
But he also...
Madara implanted some of Hashirama's cells into his body to not only make himself stronger, but also because… He couldn't let go.
Running a hand through the stone-cold flesh, Madara leaned against it. For as long as his immortal body allowed him, he would keep doing this. No shame, no thoughts of being insane. Tracing a finger over the wound on the chest, he knew one thing... He took this man's life and the body was rightfully his to keep.
"Hashirama... I think I'm going to lose this war..."
Placing his lips over the snow-white chest, he pulled back. Admiring the man one last time, he pulled the spiral mask over his face and turned on his heels.
"See you later..."
The End…