Chapter Two

Bleeding Mercy


Hashirama had nearly had enough, leaving a wood clone in the Hokage office; Madara would have thrown a small fit. Furiously, Hashirama almost smiled at the thought of Madara crossing his arms furiously, scoffing as he turned his head away from Hashirama's staring. But Hashirama couldn't smile, he couldn't. Mito was dead, and it was because of something the Kyuubi had done, Tobirama had informed him of what he had seen. But the brunette found the story difficult to swallow, as it was, Izuna was long since dead.

Madara never let anyone forget that, he would activate the combined form of both his and Izuna's sharingan every time someone dared speak ill of Izuna. Hashirama couldn't understand Madara's rage, and increasing hatred. Because really, he had lost his brothers' too. But then again….Hashirama's head hung low briefly. Realizing something. Madara had been close to Izuna, so close he had even turned on Hashirama at the riverside. Hashirama never dared question why they were so close, because he understood what it meant to have a younger brother, and to be the older one.

Now that he allowed himself to think clearly, he knew why Madara was in such pain. But he couldn't understand why he would attack the village…..Hashirama almost forgot to breathe again, wondering briefly why none of the Uchiha clan had decided to hunt him down yet. They had been relatively quiet, choosing a new clan head from the shadows. They almost seemed…eager. Sighing Hashirama opened the door to the hospital room, feeling a nasty twist in the organ that lied within his ribcage.

Izuna was pounced over his brother, his expression feral and deadly and ready to tear out the white haired man's throat. Without a second wasted, Hashirama entwined roots over Izuna's arms and legs, hoisting him high into the air, scowling as the younger male bared his fangs at him eyes flashing a dark ruby red, the toma of the sharingan however did not lie in the man's irises.

"Put Izuna-Nii down!" The authoritative cry played on Hashirama's memory badly, shocking him into silence, his head snapping to the furious red eyes of Uchiha Madara. The Madara he had met as a boy, the Madara who had skipped stones, the Madara who had dreamed and reached for peace. The Madara who was innocent, despite having his young hands stained red with the blood of warring men and women.

Tobirama moved to stand by his brother, slowly collecting himself as the scene unfurled before him. Izuna looked as though he was possessed, and Madara was a child. But there was something wrong, Madara looked too frightened, and had called out for Izuna as his older brother. Izuna had not recognized him, and seemed to only know of Madara. Madara who was his brother, and thus must be protected.

"I…..I'm sorry. Your brother was attacking Tobirama, and I could only restrain him." Hashirama spoke in a soft, dull whisper. Tobirama took note of the defeated look in his dark chocolate eyes, and felt seething irritation writhe beneath his skin. Hashirama had no need to apologize to this brat!

However, once Izuna was released, Hashirama's wariness sprung up once again. Watching the younger male slink back to the bedside, his position almost crouched, his fangs bared in a silent warning.

"Tobirama threatened me first. He summoned water whips." Madara accused, fear traced over in the back of now coal black eyes.

"Tobirama-"

"He activated the Sharingan first." It was a childish excuse at best. But whatever the cause, it was true. Tobirama wasn't going to back down from that, there wasn't even a chance of it.

"I don't even know who you are and where I am! How am I supposed to react?" Hashirama froze inside of his skin. 'I don't even know who you are!' The words rung, over and over and over in his skull. 'Who are you, who are you, who are you...' He was lying right? Madara had to be lying. He knew Izuna…..even if he called him his older brother there had to be a catch to that. There had to be. There was no way his Madara; his best friend was just gone. There wasn't even the chance of a possibility. Feebly, he brought his hand to his mouth, clearing his throat.

"They're the leaders of this place. The leaf village." Izuna supplied readily, and Hashirama felt his heart leap in his chest. Izuna knew. He remembered them, by the god there was still a cha-

"But I don't trust them either. To be able to control the trees, it's insulting to nature. A weapon made from the symbol of life." Tobirama felt, rather than heard the crack that emitted from his brother's dying heart. His chakra seemed to almost literally snap in half, and the pain that pulsed from it nearly had Tobirama curling in on himself, a dull writhing ache throbbing in his chest.

"Yes…..we are somewhat." The words fell like poison from Tobirama's lips, and Hashirama could only stare as his brother began to spill lies in the shape of poison down the Uchiha's throats. He couldn't breathe as he watched Izuna stand straighter, acknowledgement in his face.

"My brother and I, we founded the village with another clan." Tobirama hadn't wanted a truce with the Uchiha at all. The Uzumaki yes, but never the Uchiha. "But the other clan leader is dead now, a man who fell into insanity." That wasn't true! "So he was exiled" Madara left, he was never exiled, Hashirama would never- "He continued to attack the village, and was killed." But hadn't he done that in the end? Exiled him from his- no their village? Killed him, without ever finding out what his best friend had been after?

Madara's face twisted silently, his expression pinched into disbelief. "No." Tobirama's startled face, almost brought Hashirama back, but what had actually done so, was the tone Madara had used. Because it was Madara's voice. It was his tone, the one he spoke of when he was so sure, so certain and a conviction which drove him, when he believed he was right.

"What do you mean…no?" Hashirama dared to ask, hoping beyond all hopes and beliefs that Madara was still there. That he was just playing a cruel, cruel joke on him for the sake of sick vengeance. But Madara wouldn't do that, Hashirama paused, he had once thought Madara wouldn't attack the village either.

He had been wrong, but what he wouldn't give to not be wrong this time.

"I mean, no one just goes insane. It doesn't make sense, because there has to be a reason, there is a reason for everything." Madara's logic was nothing short of a young mind's conclusion at its best, and Hashirama was sure that even Madara knew that. But it was also a very true conclusion, as people did not just do things upon a whim. There was always a reason, no matter what they said.

"He was jealous, that Hashirama was chosen to be the leader of this place and not him. Even his own clan turned against him for his madness, I sincerely believe he stole his brother's eyes from him. Because true rumor or not, I know the strike I had dealt his brother was not fa-" Tobirama was suddenly cut off with a low growl from the genetically altered Uchiha, his eyes narrowed to pinpoint like slits.

"You speak out of petty scorn. It is written all over your eyes. You may think you know the real history of those two but you know nothing!" Izuna was furious, an instant disliking to the male with the white hair, all because of the way he held himself. As though he were better than everyone else, and they were nothing but the scum beneath his shoes.

"I highly doubt you know the truth either, and why would you care for two deceased brothers?" Tobirama's words were soft, carefully neutral watching for any reaction, any sign to show a trace of the old Izuna he had once known. Because if their memories didn't return, they could not be dealt with properly. Even as they were now, they had no place to stay.

"I care because you act like the elder was a sort of plague tearing you apart from within. As though he were tuberculosis. But you know that isn't the case, I can see it. I can feel it in your chakra; you feel nothing but contempt for those who are dead now." Izuna's tone was evenly spread, and Tobirama almost second-guessed himself. That this wasn't Izuna, because there was no way, no way Izuna would be able to read him that easily. Ever. But the chakra patterns spoke otherwise, even the color of his eyes, like a drop of the night sky and the light of stars in his flesh.

Tobirama nearly choked from his thoughts, because that was not Izuna. That illusion he had conjured, it was false. It was, because Izuna was never that. He was never unnatural, or even slightly attractive to anyone save for Izuna himself. The Izuna he knew was always covered in blood, his war fan stuck into the ground, silver bells tied at the edges. His hair was dull and looked akin to torn out feathers; his eyes were always a dark bloody red. His eyes were black, like an abyss. He was evil. Izuna was evil, because he fought. Because he killed.

"I can't hate who is dead." Was all Tobirama could bring himself to say, and even then, it sounded weak. Because now, he could only ask how much he actually knew about the man he had once killed. It had him wondering of Madara, if insanity had really claimed him, of if that had been what madara wanted to be seen as, and that Tobirama had fallen for it whole-heartedly should he have only cast the image of insanity.

For Hashirama however, the bickering of the two younger siblings brought about clarity to his muddled thoughts. Because Madara and Izuna were right, Madara couldn't have gone insane. Not without provocation first and Tobirama had confirmed what Hashirama had been denying from the start. That Madara had been thought ill of, because of something Izuna had done. He had been thought a heartless monster, fighting to prolong his own life with the utmost of persevere, even if it meant by extinguishing even that of Izuna's own. The waves, the warm-hearted smiles. They were never for Madara.

Hashirama had killed his best friend, who had needed his help all along.

He never even noticed when he went to his knees, the tiles thudding beneath his flesh covered bone. The only thing Hashirama knew for certain was that he had failed. He failed Madara.

'I failed you. I failed you, I failed you, I failed you and you were trying so hard for me to realize that you needed help. You tried to reach me in the only way you could….for once why couldn't you just say anything?! You idiotic bastard…you should have just said something. I could've helped you….but I killed you….oh god I killed you. You…..my best friend….. Why didn't I see it?' Hashirama was internally wailing, unaware of the beads of water built in his eyes, now let loose into steady silver streams.

Madara frowned, watching as the white haired male did his best to remove the other from the cream tiled ground of the hospital floor. He was failing though; Madara could see the man…...Hashirama, was rooted into place. Ignoring the warning look from his older brother, Madara went to his feet, approaching the openly crying man now. His hair stuck to his cheek and his jaw stubbornly, and Madara did remove it, ignoring the salty feeling of tears on his fingertips.

Tears meant someone had died. Tears signaled a lost of control, a grieving period. Madara did not believe he was supposed to be the one to see this state of the leader, of the Hokage. But a sharp conviction burned within him, and it urged him to make the man quiet down in the least, maybe even make him smile. Making him smile was a good idea, and one that he wanted to succeed in. Madara didn't know the man, but he knew him from somewhere, somehow. Madara never ignored his mental feelings, because along the way, they were right. Most of the time anyway.

"Hashirama…" Madara gently placed his palm over the older man's cheek, forcing a slight smile, ignoring the bewildered glare from Tobirama. "It'll be okay, I promise." This only seemed to make the man more upset, and before he could react, he found himself crushed against Hashirama's chest, the brunette whispering the low, repetitive "I'm sorry" over and over again. Madara could only wonder what for, slowly hugging the elder back.

"I forgive you, even if I don't know what you are sorry for."