A/N: I am so damn done with this short story. Lately I've been tired even though I sleep enough. Proofreading will be tomorrow, excuse the mistakes. I think this is as close, so far from what I've written in fan fiction, as to how I normally write. In other words very detached. You can see how I have no patience for words.. I'm going to Las Vegas next Thursday. Anyone have recommendations of places to visit?

This will be a collection of short stories or drabbles varying from couple hundred of words to a couple of thousand and they will focus on mature topics. There will be proper warnings and summaries before each chapter formatted and I suggest you read them carefully. You can request shorts and I'll do them if I'm feeling motivated at the time.

If you don't understand what's happening, ask and I will be direct about it. If you want to keep wondering, don't ask.

Pairing: None

Summary: There's a serial killer on the loose in Konoha. Sometimes problems are not just about peace, but personal and questionable. Hashirama is uneasy, Tobirama has suspicions and Madara is good. It's not a big mystery.

Warnings/tags: drowning, violence, brother complex, implied drug use, hanging end

One by one villagers were killed; ninja clansmen, mothers, the elderly, nearly anyone out on the streets was a target. It was peculiar, that a murderer of this degree could have mercy upon children. In a tower that resided at end of the village, far off from the main entrance gates, were two brothers discussing that specific matter.

"I don't see a pattern in the victims," said a silver haired man. He tossed papers held together by a paperclip and slumped into a seat across from his brother. Unlike himself, his brother was tanned and had long chestnut hair that reached to his waist.

The older let out a sigh, a frown on his features. "I don't understand this either, Tobirama."

There was no relation between the dead villagers, appearing to be the works of indiscriminate killings, and no motives to be found to point them in the right direction. The clues they had were that the homicides occurred during the night and that children were left unharmed.

Tobirama shifted in his seat, a finger to his temple and an elbow resting on the armrest. He glanced at Hashirama before deciding to voice his opinion.

"There have been rumours about this. About who and why the serial killer is murdering innocent civilians," he started, noticing how his brother's interlaced hands tensed on top of the desk. "Do you know what they say, Brother?" he questioned.

He could see the effect his delayed revelation had on the other by, for instance, the twitch of the man's facial muscles, the saddened eyes looking at him and downturned mouth. If what Tobirama saw was as palpable as he could feel it on his skin, then he would say he could see the insides of his brother squeeze and twist in itself.

"No, I haven't paid any attention to the rumours," Hashirama answered.

"They've been saying it's strange how none of the deceased are Uchiha. That it's probably an Uchiha prancing around the streets murdering every non-Uchiha they see," Tobirama said, spitting the last part in distaste. He fixed his gaze onto the window behind Hashirama, staring at his own reflection. He continued, "The villagers avoid them, Brother. They don't want the Uchiha clan near them in fear that they'll be the next unfortunate one."

As Hashirama let the information sink in, his fingers immediately dug into his hands, clawing their way to his knuckles and stopping to steady himself. He couldn't stand it. What was the purpose of creating the village, the alliance between the Senju and Uchiha clan, if the result was for the people to not only blindly fear the Uchiha but lay the blame on them? Ostracize the unwanted and the ones their hatred stemmed from.

"It isn't like you to jump to conclusions this quickly," Hashirama said, albeit strained. "Is there a reason for that?"

Some moments of silence passed as he watched the inner turmoil run about in Tobirama, waiting patiently for a response. Tobirama exhaled a long and slow breath.

"It feels like a trap," he admitted. Leaving his bias aside, although reluctantly, he recognized how the whole situation seemed like it had been set up. It reeked of a scheme of someone who detested the clan enough to lay the suspicions on a maniac Uchiha on a killing spree. Loathed them enough to want to chase them out of the village.

"Are you saying someone is purposely framing Madara's clan?" Hashirama asked, the words tasting foreign on his tongue. A tired smile from his brother made it a statement. Tobirama then shrugged, looking past Hashirama and through the window again.

"It's a possibility. It doesn't make the chances of the serial murderer being an Uchiha any less," he said almost offhandedly.

Whether or not Tobirama liked the highly susceptible clan, maybe this was his way of trying to get along with the Uchihas, Hashirama thought.

"I look at the evidence," his brother added with grumble.

It sounded like an excuse.

He wondered what he should tell his friend the next time he saw him. Would Madara become enraged and start insulting him in an attempt to calm himself? Or would he remain silent and gather the members of his clan to a meeting to persuade them of standing their ground?

"Hashirama?" Madara halted in his steps, watching Hashirama walk past him. When his friend didn't turn to wait for him or seem to notice he left Madara behind, it confirmed that there was something wrong. Madara gazed at Hashirama's retreating figure, getting smaller and lost into a crowd. Was the position of Hokage taking a toll on him?

The slight tug on his sleeve shook Hashirama out of his thoughts and his eyes landed on Madara.

"Hashirama," Madara repeated, finally getting the man to stop. He scowled, but it was gone in a second.

"What is it, Madara?" Hashirama asked. He received an odd look masked in the other's usual poker face.

"I should be asking you that. You paused in the middle of talking and started walking without watching where you were going," Madara said. Hashirama laughed and rubbed the back of his head.

"Did I? Sorry, where was I?" Madara narrowed his eyes on him, making Hashirama drop his arm and give a gentle smile.

"Why the serious face?"

Sighing, Madara began wandering along the streets. A breeze blew by, rustling the trees off their leaves and he raised his head. He snatched a falling leaf into his hand and turned it over, inspecting it. Hashirama looked on in amusement from beside him.

"It's nothing," Madara muttered and it took Hashirama a while to comprehend what was said to him. They continued their afternoon stroll in peace, sometimes exchanging a few words. Today was one of the days where neither felt like rambling on and on about their fulfilled dreams and whether or not they'd found a new dream to chase.

The leaf twirled in between Madara's fingers, appearing as a blur of green. He gazed up at the clouds floating by above in the sky, a tune playing in his mind. He heard Hashirama chuckle and he almost jumped back at it, realizing he had been swaying his head to the silent music.

He twitched and barked at his friend, "Don't laugh." It earned an eruption of laughter. Hashirama wiped a tear from his eye, hitting Madara in the back as he laughed. The growl didn't stop him.

"It's just…" Hashirama started and as if understanding dawned upon him, paused. He turned to Madara, wide-eyed and kept himself from blinking. "You've been in a good mood these days," he said, unable to believe the words that left him. Madara hummed. He brought the leaf to his face, looking at Hashirama through the hole in the middle.

"Did something happen?" Hashirama asked.

"No."

That was impossible. It couldn't have been nothing that left Madara pleased. Since the villagers—at least the ninjas who knew who he was—started openly avoiding Madara, the man had always remained in his foul mood. He'd stay indoors most of the time, going out when he was training, going for a mission or when Hashirama dragged him by force. Now Hashirama was being told his friend was happy for no explainable reason. He'd do whatever it was that made Madara happy because maybe, as wishful as it was, he could have both the peaceful village they'd envisioned in their youth and keep his best friend by his side.

"Lately, I don't know why, but I feel really good…" Madara mumbled and a tiny smile graced his lips.

It was a good time. If Hashirama informed him of the contents of tomorrow's meeting now when Madara was content, he wouldn't blow up in front of the council and damage his image further. It'd also give him time to sort out his thoughts.

The eye looking at him behind the leaf closed. Madara breathed in deeply, holding it in for one…two…and a half beats and exhaled. Entranced by the calm aura surrounding his friend, curiosity burned in Hashirama. The bustling sounds of kids getting picked up by their parents from the Academy went deaf to him. He ignored the call of his name.

"Well, see you tomorrow at the meeting," Madara said and waved goodbye. Hashirama stood shocked. Madara never waved to greet or motion his leave and that was what irked some of the elders on the council of the Fire Country. An ill-mannered and arrogant savage, was what they described him as. He was that happy? He'd have to find out what is was.

"Hokage-sama," a man called again, panting. He pointed in a direction, a frightful expression on him that alerted Hashirama. "By the front gates. There's a dead body of a ninja by the front gates and we suspect it's a neighbouring village's spy!"

The room was filled with inaudible breathing; a slow and undisturbed rhythm of a sleeping man. Filtered rays of morning light shone on the unmoving body nestled in covers. Madara roused and lay still, awake, but craving rest. He turned away, rolling onto his side when light hit his eyelids.

Footsteps stopped in front of his bedroom and there was a knock, the paper door rattling.

"Madara-sama, please wake up. You'll be late for the meeting." The man awaited an answer and though Madara heard him, he didn't have the energy to groan a response. Soon, footsteps padded away leaving him alone once their job of notifying the Uchiha was done. They would be a fool. A fool to intrude the clan leader's room without permission.

Rolling back onto his stomach, Madara sighed. These days he felt terribly tired. He would wake up finding his own weight a burden pressing heavily in his futon akin to a dead person. He had difficulty breathing, the breaths coming out shallow. It was becoming exhausting to open his eyes. He never wanted to wake; however, there was meeting he had to attend.

The hallway was empty with not a person in sight. Madara slid the door, shutting it quietly behind him and took a seat next to Hashirama. He could feel the stares on him, all arguments and discussion ceasing.

To his right, he saw Hashirama give a short nod and Tobirama glance at him in acknowledgement. His attention drew to the clock hanging on the wall above the door. A squeaky, grating voice shouted and Madara couldn't catch what was said until a loud bang on the table startled him.

"Are you listening?" An elder who had crease lines streak his forehead leaned forward with a scowl. He didn't respond.

"You're late. How about an apology for being late?" the old man shrieked, pushing himself off his chair and slamming his palms onto the table. Before Madara could bite back, his friend intervened.

"It's fine. We started the meeting without him anyways," Hashirama said. How he disliked it. It peeved him to no end. The way they treated Madara and jumped at every chance they had to start an argument with him.

"Bah! He's late so it's a given we'd begin without him," the councilman retorted, swinging his arm to emphasize his words. "In the first place how do we know it's no—"

"Sit down." Tobirama glared.

Unwillingly, the man settled into his seat and the meeting resumed. It was more of a discussion than anything, opinions and ideas thrown here and there. Madara's eyelids gnawed at him to close them. He was tired. His vision blurred and it took more effort every time he tried to keep them from fluttering closed. The air dried his eyes and tears stung them. It hurt and he wanted to sleep. Murmuring of different voices reached his ears, but he couldn't process them.

"Madara?" Hashirama whispered. Madara lifted his head. He was nodding off.

"I don't know why he bothered to show up if he's not paying attention," someone spat and Hashirama could not say anything to that.

"I was listening. I didn't think you higher ups needed an Uchiha's opinion."

Gritting his teeth in shame, the same man challenged, "Why don't you tell us then. What are your thoughts on the dead spy?"

Hashirama glanced over to Madara, worried he'd be humiliated in front of everyone. It was another method to get on Madara's nerves.

Dead spy?

It was wet, his hands were wet. The woman dressed in civilian clothing was floating in the stream, the currents sweeping her away. He dragged her out and stared for a while. He slapped her in the cheek several times and finally she awoke, choking and sputtering water. Frightful eyes gazed at him and he squeezed her neck. She desperately brought a hand to his wrist to stop him. She flailed, kicking about. He squeezed and squeezed, so no oxygen could enter her lungs.

Slowly, very slowly, he released his grip and yanked her forehead protector from her pocket. He'd take it and he told the woman she could leave.

"The one who was drowned?" Madara asked. The stout old man huffed, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Yes, who else did you think I was referring to? Unless you weren't listening of course…" He raised a brow questioning.

The woman gave a look of disbelief, frozen on the spot. She turned, leaping into the trees. He stared, twirling a kunai around his finger. She was gone from his sight. He could sense her presence nearby. She hadn't gone far with those injuries he inflicted on her and he smiled. He sent the kunai in his hand flying into the trees, leaves falling to the ground followed by a heavy thud a moment later.

Just kidding.

He dragged the woman again, shaking his head.

Spies.

And he dunked her head into the waters.

"There's nothing to say if she's dead," Madara said. "Other than the fact the Mist Village has been collecting intel on us."

How boring.

Standing to his feet, Madara left the room. There were whispers behind his back and what of it?

"Madara, wait. We haven't gotten to the important topic yet and it concerns you," Tobirama called. Madara paused. He knew without looking over his shoulders that Hashirama and Tobirama were standing.

"And what would that be?"

"The serial killings. I'm sure you know about them," Tobirama began.

"I do."

"We discussed it beforehand and the elders suggested we have the Uchiha compound moved to the edge of the village while we investigate the matter. We need your permission."

There was a long pause. The number one suspect of the homicides were the Uchiha. He understood that and what would he do about it? Enough was enough. Down with trying to gain the trust of others and who cared about control as long as his clan was safe. They could investigate all they wanted.

"Do what you want." Madara snorted.

A familiar chakra signature followed him into the corridor.

"Madara."

He didn't answer.

"Are you alright?" Hashirama asked. It wasn't exactly a question. He thought if he spoke to his friend a little more, he'd come to recognize what was unsettling him. The whole situation was unsettling. Madara left without an argument. He didn't defend his clan stubbornly as he usually would. Madara faced him looking weary, dark rings under his eyes.

"I'm fine." Even his voice sounded dead. Seeing how Hashirama wasn't convinced, Madara sighed and admitted, "I'm tired." Hashirama frowned.

"Then you're not okay," he stated.

"Listen, Hashirama. When I say I'm fine, then I am. I feel good, great even," Madara said and smiled warmly. "I dream of Izuna…"

Hashirama blinked, realization hitting him. The reason why Madara was in such a good mood lately was because of Izuna? He breathed in relief and he didn't really know why.

"Get some rest when you get home. You're on night patrol tonight." Hashirama's last thought as Madara vanished from the corridor was that his friend smelled of rain.

Gossip was spreading amongst the villagers, truth mixing in with lies. The ruling to push the Uchiha compound further away from the central area of Konoha was publicized and as expected, there was a huge uproar on the Uchiha's side. Like wildfire, vicious flames licking the barks of trees, infecting the next and the next. He could feel the unrest, the thinning patience and hate stabbing him like pine needles—it didn't matter—bending as they pricked.

He was very tired and it was as though he increasingly lacked sleep every night despite sleeping earlier and earlier. One night Madara had a dream, one without Izuna. In the dream, he or someone else was returning home after drinking out with Hashirama—he wasn't too sure—in the late evening and a drunk man stumbled across the person. He yelled, screaming profanities. He must've been an Uchiha because he was slurring on about how it was his fault that the entire village was against them.

The man's mouth moved, up, down then slightly lopsided to the right as he spoke. He was dizzy and it was funny how even in a dream he could feel the world spin and tumble. What a headache.

"Am I not worthy enough for you to even listen to me?"

Ah, annoying. It was buzzing noise as if a fly were hanging by his ear. He'd do anything to protect his clan, but this man wouldn't shut up.

Madara observed in amusement. This dream bore extreme resemblance to the reality he knew.

"Everyone's afraid of you and your power. However, know that if we could, we'd kill you and offer you to the Senju," the Uchiha said steadily, pointing a shaking finger at him.

Hilarious.

Anger grew in him and he slit the man's throat in a quick draw. Insolent fool. The blood splattered against the ground as he collapsed, grasping his neck. He wheezed, staring up in silent shock.

A chill ran through Madara. Who was the man in his dreams? Who killed his clansman? Never would he murder his kin. They could despise him, shun him and he would never lay a finger on them.

"How dare you betray our clan," the offender hissed. "We fought to protect you." He crouched to face the sobering man on the ground, blood trickling behind his hand. He tore the arm from the man's neck and slit deep into his wrist.

"We fought to avenge you, sought out the best options for you," he continued and Madara winced at the piercing scream of agony.

He jammed the kunai into the man's guts and twisted, whispering into his ear, "And this is how you repay us?"

The dream stopped there and Madara started into consciousness. It was cold, but his hands were warm. Rain thundered outside and it was dark. He shivered. His fingers thread into his hair and he waited for the remnants of the disturbing dream to subside.

He was sent on a three-day mission by Hashirama and completed it in two. Madara hadn't gotten rusty, still fighting as if he were dancing. He preferred combat to patrolling the village so he was thrilled when his friend assigned him a mission that required fighting.

When Madara arrived at the entrance gates of the village, Tobirama was standing in the middle with a solemn expression. They decided to chat over late night snacks and drinks.

"How are you?" Tobirama asked as he set his sake cup down. Madara didn't believe in pleasantries with the man.

"What do you want?" he said sharply. He could see the other chew his tongue to maintain his appearance to seem civil. Tobirama exhaled, licking his lips nervously and turned to him.

"I'll be direct with you, Madara. During the time you've been out on a mission, we've determined that the serial killer is someone from your clan."

"…I see," Madara mumbled and took a sip of his sake.

"You might think I'm being biased, but I'm not. I'm well aware of Brother's intentions of balancing the power between the Uchiha and the Senju—"

"No." Madara gazed at him hard.

He was looking at him.

"Equality is impossible to attain and unlike your idiot of a brother, you should know that by now," Madara said. Tobirama's jaw clenched and his brows drew together.

"I only do what's best for the village," he responded. Madara watched as Tobirama swayed and fall off his stool. He assured the street stall owner he'd bring his friend home safely and paid before helping Tobirama up.

The man had troubles uttering a coherent sentence and nodded. It was freaky to see the Uchiha smile. He'd never seen Madara smile that sweetly and maybe the rumours about him were wrong.

Once they got indoors, up the stairs and through a door, Madara crumbled to the floor. Perhaps he was more worn out than he'd initially thought.

There he was again. He'd been meeting Izuna in his dreams every night like this.

"Izuna…" Madara whispered. He reached his hands out into the space in front of him or at least he thought, he couldn't tell the direction when it was pitch black. His hands floated aimlessly, catching nothing until there was a light sensation on his fingertips. Madara leaned forward to reel in the thread he knew would lead him to his baby brother.

"Nii-san." A muddled voice echoed faintly. Softness then a loose grasp around his wrist pulled him. The warm hand slid down to turn Madara's palm face up. He let his hand be guided and soon, he felt it land on something soft. He caressed it and smiled.

"Izuna," he called. The cheek he was caressing lifted slightly.

"I'm here, nii-san," the voice comforted. Arms enveloped Madara, pulling him into a tight embrace. His little brother's chin rested on top of his head.

"I'll always protect you, don't worry…"

He laughed. "I should be the one protecting you as your older brother…But I—" Izuna shushed him.

"It's okay."

His fingers stopped at the edge of a cloth. Madara curiously peeled it off. "What is this?" he asked.

"My bandages," Izuna answered in a gentle tone. He helped Madara unwrap the bandages. Their foreheads pressed together and Madara revelled in the warmth that flooded into him.

"Open your eyes, nii-san." Izuna chuckled, cupping his brother's face. Madara did. He opened his eyes carefully and cautiously, afraid that Izuna would disappear. When nothing happened, he looked up.

And stilled.

"…Izu..na?" He breathed. He shook. His whole body trembled, inside out. He choked.

"Yes?"

"Where are your eyes?" Madara managed to convey through chattering teeth. He wasn't chattering though because his teeth weren't making any sounds. "Where…"

Black, very dark and deep empty sockets stared back at him. There was depth and he could tell, there was nothing in there. Hollow. So close to him so very close that he couldn't breathe.

"Did you forget?" Izuna giggled and led his hands. He took Madara's fingers, trailing up, creeping up his face. They skittered along the ridge, just before the holes near his nose. Izuna used his brother's fingers to dip in. Madara's finger was swallowed.

"What are you doing. Izuna?…Izuna?"

His finger travelled deeper into Izuna's sockets, where it didn't belong. He tugged at his arm, attempting to get his finger away. But his brother's grip didn't budge.

"Silly, you have my eyes, remember?"

And his finger went deeper.

Squelch.

Madara recoiled his hand with as much force as he could and squeezed his eyes shut. The sensation on his fingers, the sensation of something squishy, he didn't want to know what it was. What was in Izuna's head.

"Ouch, that hurt…" Izuna whimpered and Madara saw him covering his eye…sockets. Blood was dripping.

"S-sorry. Are you okay?" His hands stayed clenched by his side. Izuna moaned in pain and he grew concerned that he had damaged his brother's…loose nerves or brain. He tentatively reached an arm out, stomach churning. A hand shot out and grabbed him.

"Just kidding!" Izuna beamed and his other hand raised in the air as if it were a peek-a-boo game. Madara growled.

"Stop it, Izuna. You're acting strange…What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, nii-san. Leave it to me, okay?" Izuna whispered, his breath raising goosebumps on Madara's skin. It was like Izuna was alive and breathing.

"What are you talking about?" Madara asked, yawning mid-sentence.

"I'll protect you…I'll keep you safe." Izuna wrapped his arms around his brother protectively, glaring at something far off in the distance. His brother's pale arms surrounding him glowed a bright white.

He was confused. His dreams were always of him and his family, happily spending time together. Izuna was there too. This time, Izuna was rambling on about things Madara didn't understand. He was doing things that didn't make sense. He was falling asleep and it didn't make sense to fall asleep when he was already sleeping. He needed clarification from Izuna and what he meant. He tried to grasp at straws to stay awake but…

But he felt really good.

Izuna placed his hands over Madara's eyes.

He slumped against his brother and closed them.

His head drummed and his vision was hazy. When he moved, his limbs were numb as rocks and limp as noodles. With bleary eyes, Tobirama squinted to survey his surroundings. There was someone sitting on the desk and he recognized the room to be the Hokage's office. Who was that?

"You're awake."

"Who are you?" Tobirama said calmly. "If you turn yourself in now, you'll get off lightly."

A chuckle echoed in the lonely room. He saw the person's head throw back in uncontrollable laughter. The man, most likely, stepped forward.

"Madara?"

Twirling a kunai around his finger, Madara whistled. "Hello there, Tobirama."

"What is the meaning of this?" Tobirama hissed, struggling to move his body and attack the man. He received a blank gaze. He inhaled. To be honest, there was no point in reasoning with Madara, but for his brother…he'd try.

"You're the culprit? You were the one behind the slaughter?" Tobirama leaned forward, tilting his head in an attempt to goad the man.

"Slaughter is a strong word." Madara sighed and paced back to the desk.

"Admit to the killings, Madara and redeem yourself. That's what Brother would want," Tobirama said.

Another laugh erupted. "You say the funniest things. But…" Madara's eyes gleamed in red. "Speaking of redemption? Someone's becoming arrogant."

Tobirama was expecting redemption from the Uchiha? What did they do wrong? What different were the other clans, what different were the Senju?

"Should you be the one to say that?" Tobirama spat and his hair was roughly grabbed.

"I should have never let the peace treaty happen. If I were there…it would've never happened," Madara whispered. He flicked his wrist and Tobirama slammed into the wall. Tobirama groaned from the impact, unable to reposition himself.

"That's right," Madara started, striding towards him. He crouched down looking into Tobirama's eyes. "I've called your brother here."

How would the man like it, to see his dear brother killed before him…by his hands. The wide smirk blooming on Madara's face stunned Tobirama. All of a sudden Madara glanced over at the window.

"It's raining, huh…" The sound of the rain dripped, dropped, sliding down the glass. The clouds obstructed the moonlight, water pouring as if the skies were crying.

As Madara face drew closer and closer, a kunai in his hand drawing closer and closer to his neck, he saw it. The Sharingan swirling and taking on another form.

"Shall I torture you with the Tsukuyomi while we wait for your brother?" Madara asked, smiling eerily. The metal made contact with Tobirama's skin and he shivered at the coldness. He felt it then, the ice touch of the back of Madara's hand. The unnatural temperature.

"I'll take that as a yes?"

He knew this person. He knew him very well.

"Who the fuck are you."

The pattern in his eyes were not Madara's.

One last giggle.

"You know my name. It's Madara."

"No, it's not. Who. Who are you?"

"I think I like you dead, Tobirama," he said.