Warning: Homosexuality/Writer's wild dreams.

Disclaimer: The characters belong to Kishimoto and this story is based on a video created by Gobelins (you can find it in youtube) with the same name of de fic.

With everything clarified... I hope you enjoy this oneshot.


Shudō


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The silence of the cold night is cut by their agitated breathing, the rain is held back by two bodies fighting, the wind is cut by the edge of their swords. And then... He let down his guard when he see a red eyes thirsty for blood, that leaves him breathless, a cheerful black eyes wait for him in the other side of the river.

By his carelessness he receives a blow and falls to the wet ground, but the fight continues, his mind goes off at moments as if there wasn't only one fight outside but also one inside him. Part of his mind screams that he must do the right thing and another part that tries desperately to let it stop.

The Kyuubi is growling full of anger and the ground shakes for the power of the beast, the rain gets worse and the attacks become stronger, more lethal. Dodge quickly each stroke of the sharp scythe, and his body moves automatically to try to get his sword hit the other man.

Screaming frustrated when he hears cruel and so unrecognizable answers that only end up losing it again in his mind. He listens to the blades vibrate when it struck each other, but... He looks at his hurt hands and now sees a younger hands, he raises his eyes to observe a young Madara training with a wooden sword in the middle of the woods.

Hashirama return to reality when feel the fire burning his skin and use jutsus to stop the bijuu, he listen the screams of Madara and also hear the screams of his head. He wants them shut up, to be silent, to calm down to listen to the calm of the night, only then he sleep the Kyuubi.

Madara continues to distill poison in his words and the fight continues all night, with a chakra-lacking body, hurt by multiple blows, frozen by the cold rain that sinks into his bones. He looks seriously at the other, and wonders if he also feels that physical pain and resounding screams in his head.

He knows the answer and feels dread.

He hisses when the other pulls and bites him, feels the skin split, a part of his flesh is missing and the pain begins to run through his body. His mind is lost again, young men now, one pair of arms that take him behind his naked back and makes a soft bite so different from that of these moments.

Madara's funny laugh of remembrance mingles with the psychopath of the real one, the warm arms that surround him in his dream are only supplanted by the freezing rain. He can only watch in silence and the mental pain only gets worse, was devoured by his depressive thoughts and he is sure that if they continue fighting, Hashirama could be laughting in the same way, so empty and fatalistic.

He uses the last of his chakra and observes Madara's back, how he approaches to the clone he created, his hands tremble as he no longer sees that real back but a naked one with fewer scars, and they were no longer on that cliff, but in a grotty bedroom. His mouth dries and his erratic palpitations are the only thing he hears, Hashirama no longer listens to the rain, nor does what the other says. The memories intermingled quickly, frantically, hit him to wake him up or lose his mind in the past.

He stabbing Madara with the sword.

Words empty and hard sprout from his dried throat, in his mind someone laughs at him, so hard, so strong, that he feels the noise of breaking glass. When Madara turns his face to see him, Hashirama realizes that he doesn't look at him. The Uchiha is lost in the past, that past that he lost his mind all the time when he feels sad, he no longer sees the blood on his hands and he doesn't feel the other body collapsing to the ground. Hashirama sees a broken and old room, sees a naked adolescent mocking at him in a bed, and in his mind his younger version laughs, but it's feels empty, so empty that makes his real body fall from his knee in tears. A distant and young laughter of Madara take him to unconsciousness.

And It was all so black, so silent, It was night and there were no stars, It was the night forest in a cold winter, It was a room rented in the dark for two nervous teenagers, It was his split mind that silently fell into pieces, It was as black as the eyes of a young Madara who received him in silent when they run away to his secret place.

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-Owari-


Final note: I know that shudo doesn't suit for hashimada but this dammit video make me think about them, so I couldn't control myself to write this. And yes, this oneshot is in spanish but I promise to someone start to write some fics in english. Well... sorry if there some wrong, I've lost the practice writing.

Extra: Shudô was a samurai custom in which adult samurai engaged in pederastic relationships with younger samurai. This custom is most prominently seen, or discussed, in the Sengoku and Edo periods.

¡See ya later!