Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

Summary: Short fic about young Madara, Izuna and a hot summer day. Pre-Konoha.


blood sports

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Madara wiped the sweat off his brow, frowning. It was one of those unbearably hot summer days and even though he didn't do anything too strenuous, his body felt overheated and lacking the energy. Due to the high temperature most of the Uchiha clansmen forwent their daily practice, instead opting to recline in the shade and drink lots of fluids, wary of risking a stroke for no good reason.

The young boy also felt that one day of relax was a splendid idea, even though his stern father probably wouldn't have agreed and forced him to train despite the sweltering hot weather. Good thing that Tajima wasn't home, then.

Madara opened the shoji doors and squinted, momentarily blinded by the overly bright sunlight searing his eyeballs. The wave of heat slammed into him, stunning him for a few seconds as the water seemed to instantly evaporate from every exposed surface on his body. Recovering from the shock, Madara concentrated his senses and rushed to the vegetable garden in the backyard where he could feel a familiar chakra of his brother.

"Izuna! What are you doing here?" he called out to the younger boy.

No reply.

Hearing distinct whiz and splat sounds, Madara followed them and finally found his brother by a patch of tomato plants. Armed with a kunai in each hand, Izuna was breathing deeply, the long hair sticking to his nape. He was thoroughly drenched and Madara got mad thinking just how long the idiot had spent out there without proper hydration.

"Izuna! Are you insane, why the hell are you training?!"

"Am... not... training... nii-san," his brother panted out and let loose another pair of kunai, hitting his mark of a fresh, ripe tomato perfectly in the middle. The fruit fell on the ground with a wet splat, spraying its red juices around like a fountain of gore from a fallen enemy. Madara blinked to dispel the memory of a similar sight on the battlefield brought forth thanks to his Sharingan.

"Then what is it that you're doing?" he bit out, annoyed with the other boy's recklessness.

"Just having some fun. You know, since father didn't take us with him to fight the Senju," Izuna scowled darkly, a far away look on his face reminding Madara painfully that not so long ago they had lost their older brothers in a skirmish with their enemy clan. The burning hatred of Senju was shared by many of the Uchiha and now Izuna was one of them too. Madara would have felt the same if not for one person he met on a bank of Nakano River. A boy his age with a sincere smile who offered him his friendship without any conditions. A boy he was sure belonged to the enemy ninja clan, unfortunately.

A hand taking his own snapped Madara out of this train of thought. He raised a brow at Izuna questioningly as the younger boy passed him a kunai. "Here, let me show you," Izuna took a ready stance. "You just need to picture a face of one those Senju bastards..." he threw the kunai with precision of a seasoned ninja and another tomato splattered to the ground, speared through the middle, "... and he's dead!"

Izuna turned, looking at him expectantly. "Your turn, nii-san! Show them hell!" he said encouragingly.

Madara flipped the kunai around in his hand for a better grip, his face pensive. His brother wanted him to play this admittedly childish game and he wanted to do it for Izuna... but the only Senju face he remembered was his friend's whom he obviously didn't want to kill, not even in imagination.

"Come on, nii-san!"

Madara gritted his teeth and tossed the kunai half-heartedly, however it still easily sank into the center of the round fruit which fell to its demise, bleeding horrifically from the mortal wound.

"Nice shot!" Izuna complimented.

Madara didn't share his satisfaction, some strange, hollow feeling gnawing at him from the inside. He turned around abruptly.

"Tch. This is stupid. Let's go back to the house and get something to drink," he muttered roughly and headed off at a brisk pace, Izuna running to catch up after he quickly gathered the used up weaponry.

"But nii-san! We've just started to have fun!"

"No buts, you need to drink or do you want to get dehydrated?!" Madara scolded. "Besides, mother will have our heads for messing with her tomatoes."

Izuna swore, earning himself a swift bop on the head. "Oww!"

"Language, Izuna."

The boys entered the house, leaving behind the sticky tomato corpses to dry out in the merciless summer sun.


AN: I had a block on writing, hopefully typing up this strange idea will help me overcome it. Seriously, it's Christmas and I'm writing about summer instead of doing one of those Christmas instant oneshots full of fluff and warm feelings.

It was another episode of writing in the middle of a night. Let me know what you think about the story!

Merry Christmas!