Uchiha no Bōrei
PROLOGUE:
Disclaimer: This fanfiction is one giant trigger warning. The pairings include a !hurt/comfort HashiMada, and !goodlittlebrothers TobiIzuna. There is Mito!Bashing!. This is a co-written piece between BlindJesus and MadaSasu. This piece has been double updated and should be read again from the beginning. Lots of edits as of 01/23/19. Basically this is absolutely a fanfiction for adults only. #angstyuchihasaregreat (****HashiMada**** indicates perspective change)
I hate miracles. No. I really do hate them. They come into your life, completely out of the blue, and they mess up everything. And everyone goes on about how it's great, and I should be thankful, and I need to live up to all the fortune I've had, but I don't wanna.
All I want to do is scream into my pillow, which I can't do right now because I'm outside, and then cry for a while alone in my room. Is that too much to ask? I just had a HUGE disruption in my morning routine and I'm not sure I'm capable of functioning at peak efficiency here. Damn It Madara!
It has been three years. Three fucking awful years. I've worked super hard for the stability in my life.
I have a girlfriend, who's currently texting me every minute or so, probably asking who the Hell is the scary guy who just walked into the base, but I can't answer. And I can't answer, because said guy, because Madara the lying, stupid, idiotic, reckless, beautiful bastard was dead.
He went out on a mission… and none of the team ever came back. He wasn't even the only one we had no remains of for the funerals. Small, expertly-placed, IEDs blew the whole sorry group of them into nonexistence.
I still wake up sometimes with the taste of that dusty air in my mouth. I still wake up sometimes expecting to see long black hair tangling with mine. I still fucking wake up sometimes and forget he isn't ever coming back to me… So now what do I do?
The asshole just wandered into camp with a rifle in one hand, a few grenades attached to his belt, and a burger he stole from a new recruit in the other. What am I supposed to do now? The army therapist never gave me Self Help books on how to deal with the fact that my dead lover came back to life.
****HashiMada****
Pulsing, painful, blistering heat never, EVER, gave itself up to shade. The sands stayed hot even after the sun went down, and then all I had was the fucking cold ass moonlight.
I had a direction that I was told to go by a half-crazed man back at my last position, so I walked. Wherever I go there tends to be half-crazed men… usually beneath my boots with my pistol in their mouths.
I more than expected, the large base in front of me, which I've been tracking and trying to find for the last month and a half, to be simply that. To be a place of half-crazed men that would eventually be dead beneath my boots. But no, those places weren't like this. They weren't clean.
Everything I dreamt of for years, still dream of, was right there. I guess that was the reason I didn't pause, didn't stop, didn't hear the orders given me.
It was just bright and loud, yet I couldn't hear what came out of the mouths of soldiers who seemed to be yelling. It was too much. Besides, I didn't care.
I just raised my guns at them instinctively and thought, I have enough ammo to shoot them… they weren't moving out of my way, and I knew what I fucking wanted. Them getting in my way wasn't it.
This place used to sound so joyful. Even with the sound of gunfire and copters in the distance it was always a good place. But it's too much now, too open, too exposed, too… different.
That albino brat would shoot at the toes of rookies, the Genin would try so hard to hide the fact that they were sloshed before walking right into a wall, and the mechanics were always bitching that they weren't driving a tank.
But there wasn't one sound, the one I actually wanted to hear. He wasn't bellowing at the members of our teams, cursing as he lost at snack food poker.. again. His absence, and the presence of so many strangers was too much to take in.
The smell was just too damn tempting, and it was kind of fun, no, it was fucking satisfying, to see the recruit practically shit himself when I snagged his burger.
I'd stolen food from people hundreds of times, usually they laughed about it, but no one was laughing now.
I had one mission, my last mission, and I was going to finish it. I was disgusting, I smelled ,and as I walked these jackass, spiffy clean, never shot a fucking rifle, kids pointed their guns at me while I needed the water they were blocking me from.
I fired a warning shot in the ground, and Tobirama, for once in his life, did something useful when he told the little fuckers to back up.
Right there I allowed myself to drop the bag and pistol, keeping the large automatic weapon in my free hand, in case they changed their minds. Then I walked inside, ripping into the delicious piece of meat,
Hell I didn't care if it got soaked; I just needed food. I'd have used bleach if I found any, the chemical poisoning be damned. But, I settled on the closest bar of soap and boiling water to scald my skin.