Day One: [theme: family] clan / no other clan treasured love more than the uchiha / curse of hatred

A/N: Prompts from madasakuweek on tumblr. Not quite MadaSaku, but definitely there are undertones to it. Also, not my best writing either. Couldn't really figure out what to write about and then suddenly, this happened. Enjoy.


Well in the past, long before he deserted the village and his clan betrayed him, he'd taken a wife. She'd been Uchiha, of course. She hadn't been anyone special, with the typical dark hair of the clan and bright green eyes she'd inherited from her civilian mother. He certainly did not love her. Merely, he had a fond appreciation for her and her abilities, and for the heirs she'd beared him. Had Izuna not died, than surely it would have been over her death, had he been there, that he'd awaken the Mangekyou Sharingan. Yes, their marriage may not have been promised on love, but what they had had been close enough.

Truly, he'd been saddened when she and his children betrayed him; when they chose the clan over family. It pained him deeply to know that what he'd given to his family, what little of his heart he had to give, they'd given right back alongside venemous words.


How he hated her and the clan for many a year after that. Even as he grew old in that cave, nearly a hundred years old, and healed and trained the young, war-ruined, Uchiha boy, his veins coursed with hatred for them. His final thought was spent on the idea of finally gaining revenge on those who'd betrayed him.


He stood proud in the aftermath of his destruction, on the battlefield the world called the Fourth Great Shinobi War. He clenched his fingers into fists, smirk alighting on his face. He revelled in the feel of his body in its prime and in the fear and awe filled stares thrown at him. Oh, he's missed this.


His eyes sought her out as chakra exploded out of her in the technique he'd seen Hashirama's granddaughter using. At first glance, he'd been pleased, thinking there was another Senju he could kill. But then he noticed the absurd pink hair, and his Rinnegan caught her bright greens, and, had he been a lesser man, his heart would have thudded and nearly stopped.

He hated her on sight, but with several chances to drive a hand through her chest or redirect one of her teammates attacks to her, he couldn't hurt her; couldn't kill her. In the Kamui dimension he'd stabbed her before taking Obito's eye. It hadn't been a fatal stab. He tried. Kami, did he try. But the second before his chakra reciever pressed through her chest, directly into her heart, his hand jerked and the reciever stabbed into her gut instead.


He gazed, eyes clouding with darkness, up at the sky. His whole body hurt in ways he never knew were possible, the pain having been brought on by Kaguya possessing him. His eyes flicked in her direction, where she lay, trapped in a Genjutsu, in her sensei's arms. His heart thudded and he coughed, blood dribbling down past his lips. Her eyes cracked open and he nearly smiled, the bright green reminding him of what he once had and what he would soon have again. He returned his gaze to the sky. What a fine night it was; what a fine night to die. A smile crossed his face. Yes, this was the night he'd coveted for so, so long; the night he'd see his beloved again.