When You Are Gone
Disclaimer: The characters used in this story are not mine; they are rightful property of their owners. Those who own Naruto and Harry Potter, to be exact. Oh, and the song is When You Are Gone, by Avril Lavigne.
Warnings: This is SLASH - so all those curious munchinks who don't like boy/boy pairings, paws off, and go away! This is your only warning, got it! It's also not strictly chronologically perfect, so you may be confused. The characters are also OOC.
Shout Out: As I SAID, people, the Scrapbook Jewels will contain one shots which one day may, or may not, be evolved into full stories. Until then, each and every one shot is fully concluded. So when you are reading any chapter, the said chapter doesn't link onto the next, story – wise. If I DO decide to write a sequel, I will tag it appropriately, so read the AN's.
Summary: Madara and Izuna were brothers.... but to Madara, Izuna was more than his brother. But Izuna is dead... and Madara wants him back. Who will mend Madara's broken heart? SLASH, faint Madara/Izuna, Madara/Harry
There was darkness, and then, there was light. The dark – haired man was always watching the silent transit between the two, no matter if it was dusk or dawn. It was his ritual, and everyone knew better than to disturb him at these times, no matter the emergency. Well, everyone but one person, that is.
I always needed time on my own
I never thought I'd need you there when I cry
And the days feel like years when I'm alone
And the bed where you lie is made up on your side
The world was slowly slipping into the light, shadows dancing precariously at the edges of the trees and grass, swaying with the morning breeze ever so slightly, dancing with their counterparts ever so slowly, giving up their dominance sometimes, sometimes winning, but mostly overlapping with the tiny shards of light.
Empty red eyes watched the sinuous dance, their owner being keenly aware of his surroundings, and even more aware of the empty place at his side.
He... was alone. Not that he hadn't been before, but now, it was final, the last proverbial nail in the coffin, so to speak.
He had always been alone, no matter what. He was stronger than his peers, better, faster, deadlier... he got respect and awe, and women sought his company, but he was aloof, quiet and unapproachable, like the morning dew. He snorted at the analogy. It wasn't his, but his brother's.
Izuna...
He exhaled a heavy sigh.
He still couldn't believe. His kind, gentle brother, his link....
His red eyes were itching him uncomfortably for a while now, as if someone had thrown in his face a tear gas.
He knew, his brother's illness was getting stronger, he knew it, and he was helpless to do anything but watch.
When you walk away I count the steps that you take
Do you see how much I need you right now
He remembered Izuna looking at him, a small smile on his face, before he nodded and turned, walking away, to prepare for the mission... which would be, unknowingly to him, his last one.
Even if he was a pillar of strength for his clansmen, Izuna was always his support, with his strength and unwavering trust.
They didn't need many words. Even if they talked, it was mostly Izuna, his calm, light voice brightening his day, his wisdom leading him – even if the council viewed Izuna as a lesser brother, if not for other, it was because he was second – born – Madara always listened to his brother's words whenever he had a problem or clan dispute to solve. Madara wasn't a people person. Sure, he knew how to ... ahem, work with them - cough – order and manipulate - cough – but he lacked the finesse that made people willingly follow him, the charisma and understanding which Izuna had in abundance, but rarely shown, saying he wasn't a leader type, anyway.
But now, he was gone.
When you're gone
The pieces of my heart are missing you
His heart was missing now, and he would've given those accursed eyes back in a heartbeat, if only his brother would be back, laughing, and whole, and alive...
A fist slammed into the ground, while Madara growled a furious growl. Usually impassive, Madara was now at his wits' ends, feeling like a fraying piece of a cloth, unravelling swiftly, with no one to put the pieces back.
And what hurt the most, the one, who could, who would put those piece back, was now gone, gone, gone, never to return, gone, and Madara couldn't follow!
A strangled sound clawed itself out of his throat, which he belatedly recognized as a choked sob.
"You bastard.... You fucking bastard. Why didn't you tell me... Why, why, WHY!?"
He roared out, suddenly furious with him.
The fingers dug into the damp soil, their owner uncaring of the slight pain when the nails were being shredded off with the pressure they were being clawed into the ground with.
It was a minor pain, anyway, an annoyance with the comparison with the pain that clutched at his heart.
When you're gone
The face I came to know is missing too
When you're gone
Black spun within red, the tomoes blurring and speeding up and –
Madara winced when his skull was hit with the mother of all headaches. Stubbornly, he kept his eyes open, fighting the nausea the blurring mess caused.
If Izuna were here, Madara would cheerfully strangle him, if only to alleviate the sensation, which was all the fault of this son of a bitch, too.
His stomach recoiled wildly, and combined with his grief and monstrous migraine....
He made an odd sound, a cross between whimper, groan and sob, distantly relieved no one was witness to his shameful eruption of emotions.
The words I need to hear to always get me through the day and make it ok
...I miss you
He missed him, missed Izuna terribly, even if it was barely six hours since his little brother had died.
He winced, an only outward sign of pain that was currently weaving through his brain. His sightless eyes were unfocused, as he remembered....
I've never felt this way before
Everything that I do reminds me of you
They were having a breakfast, steamed rice with grilled fish. It was a simple meal, and ten year old Madara was annoyed. Not that he showed it, what with their parents there. He looked down, contemplating where he could get more fish, when he saw a nice, fat chunk on his plate. His eyes minutely widened, as he looked up and to Izuna, who winked and gave him a small smile.
Madara's annoyance disappeared at his little brother's thoughtful action as he dug into the breakfast. Mentally, he made a note to teach Izuna Kairyuu Endan. Smiling inwardly as he thought of Izuna's reaction. For some reason, Izuna absolutely adored dragons, and he already had down Doryuuheki version, much to the Uchiha's aggravation.
He couldn't wait to the end of the breakfast.
And the clothes you left, they lie on the floor
And they smell just like you, I love the things that you do
They had the luck of finding the hot spring. Madara was relieved, as he didn't relished being dirty any longer, even if it was because of a mission.
Dark eyes widened, as he spotted the clothes being strewn on the damp ground.
He wanted to face palm.
His little brother was so careless sometimes.
"Izuna..." He groaned exasperatedly.
He quickly undressed himself, before collecting both his clothes and Izuna's.
He inhaled, and he was hit with the scent of sweat and blood and something uniquely Izuna.
It was a bittersweet scent, gently stinging his olfactory nerves.
He didn't know why, but Izuna's scent reminded him of white lilies.
When you walk away I count the steps that you take
Do you see how much I need you right now
He looked at the retreating back of his brother, who was stalking away angrily. His cheek still throbbed from the punch Izuna 'gifted' him with.
Izuna was, unlike most of the Uchihas, a peacemaker. And he really didn't appreciate his brother getting into the brawl with one Senju Tobirama. Madara scowled as he lifted his hand and wincing, he gently massaged his cheek. Why couldn't his little brother see that Senju clan was a bad news?
And somehow, his heart was at loss. Stubborn ass as he was, Madara ignored the feeling.
Besides, Izuna had a mean right hook.
When you're gone
The pieces of my heart are missing you
Madara choked with suppressed feelings. If only he wasn't so stubborn and followed Izuna... If only he would have talked with his brother about his fears....
He gulped down a bitter ball of regret and guilt.
When you're gone
The face I came to know is missing too
And the next day, Izuna was gone, on a mission, and Madara had been in a snit for a whole week, until the message came... his brother was poisoned and unable to move.
This day had been the worst one, aside from the day... or was it night - of Izuna's death.
When you're gone
The words I need to hear to always get me through the day and make it ok
I miss you
The week Izuna was on that fateful mission, Madara had been a right foul beast. Even the council of elders left him alone, not wanting to risk his wrath. The only one, who actually approached him, was Senju Hachirama, the elder brother of that punk, Tobirama.
Madara had to admit the resulting spar was good for his soul, as it took his worries off from how Izuna was doing, but that still didn't mean he liked Senju clan any more than he had before.
And he still had unfinished business with that Tobirama brat.
We were made for each other
Out here forever
I know we were, yeah
Madara was furious. He didn't want Izuna to go out with... with that chit!
He had just came from his sparring session with some of the older cousins, when he saw his little brother, blushing and fidgeting, clad in his best kimono and a lily flower in his hand.
"Izuna..." His voice was cold, like it usually was. Izuna turned his head to him, dark, gentle eyes looking up. "Madara." He greeted simply.
"Why are you stuffed into...it?" Madara asked his voice quiet. Too quiet. Izuna either didn't notice or just plain disregarded the undertone that would send any sane person running... away from the pissed Uchiha.
"It's the summer festival, duh," Izuna answered incredulously. Madara barely repressed a scowl. "You don't like festivals," He pointed out with all the maturity of the twelve year old.
To his surprise and irritation, Izuna blushed. "Maybe I do." He defended, lower lip sticking up petulantly. Seeing Madara's disbelieving glare, he sighed a put – upon sigh. "I want to have fun and – " he blushed, fidgeting with the lily flower in his small hands.
Madara growled. That flower, for some reason, irritated him terribly. "And why do you have a flower?" He asked, barely restraining himself from doing something...stupid. He crossed his arms on the chest as he had seen their father do, whenever he was pissed.
Izuna was past blushing like a cherry blossom (pink), and quickly approached the colours of a ripe cherry (red). "It's none of your fucking business," He retorted sharply.
"Izuna!" Their mother rebuked him, making Madara strangely satisfied, and mortifying Izuna.
"But mother!" Izuna whined, much to his parents' amusement.
Izuna bit his lower lip. "Kotoko – chan." He mumbled out. He looked into his elder brother's eyes bravely. "It's for Kotoko – chan."
Madara saw red.
Suffice to say, both of them were grounded that day, Madara for attacking his brother – he wouldn't tell why – and Izuna for retaliating with force.
Despite his numerous scrapes, bumps and a broken hand, along with getting two weeks of fishing duty – he detested that particular task with passion – Madara was satisfied to keep Izuna for himself just a little bit longer.
And nobody knew that, but the broken pieces of lily flower were carefully dried and put into a small black pouch Madara tied with a string around his neck and wore under his armour.
Izuna didn't forgive him for a long, long time.
Still, since that time, they went to all summer festivals together, and they spent the night looking at the fireworks.
All I ever wanted was for you to know
Everything I'd do, I'd give my heart and soul
I can hardly breathe I need to feel you here with me, yeah
Madara's eyes darkened steadily, and the only light he had, was his brother, Izuna. Their parents were dead for seven years already, and they had only each other.
Madara had worked diligently, to ensure their clan's and mostly Izuna's safety. Especially Izuna's – it pained him that his little brother was dying bit by bit in front of his eyes – the illness from the poison from his last mission plagued Izuna's body like a ravenous beast which sadistically took it's time to systematically destroy the chakra pathways in his little brother's body.
And then, Madara's eyes shut down, and Izuna, good soul he was, offered his own eyes to his brother. Madara refused, but Izuna managed to persuade him – how, even Madara wasn't sure.
The operation was long, tedious and painful beyond anything Madara had ever experienced. Through it all, the brothers held their hands, anchors to each other through the waves of pain.
The operation was successful, but Madara was still feeling guilty. The guilt increased when he found out that Izuna's health was taking a plunge – apparently, the shock of removing the eyes was too much for the already frail body, and it was slowly, but steadily shutting down.
Izuna reassured him he was alright, but Madara's sensitive ears caught the muffled hacking and coughing Izuna failed to cover.
A week after the operation, it was finally deemed safe to remove bandages from Madara's eyes.
He vividly remembered this day.
He was in a darkened room, in case his new eyes – he couldn't bring him to think them of as Izuna's – were overly sensitive. The operation had been difficult enough, but couple that with the fact it had been first attempted transplantation of majorly chakra sensitive organs, and you got the unknown outcome.
He still remembered the feel of the bandages when they were brushed off of his face, the damp warmth of the cloth his face was cleaned with, and then the strange itchy feeling which he identified as a healing chakra, to jumpstart the nerves.
The operation was deemed as a success.
Madara could see again.
The first thing he had done was to visit Izuna... despite the healers' protests.
He was greeted with a shadow of his brother.
Even before, Izuna was weakened by the poison, but now, he was positively emaciated. Pale as a ghost, he had bandages over his empty eye socks, and thin, far too thin.
Only his smile was the same, this gentle smile that made Madara want to steal him from the world and keep him for himself, and never let him go.
Gulping, he had kneeled into the traditional seiza position, taking the thin, pale hand into his stronger, filled with life, ones.
They spent the summer days together, however much Madara's obligations allowed. Madara often bought him outside, to their secret little point, describing the colours and shapes, talking about new clans and their abilities, but mostly, they were silent.
Izuna's health seemed to take turn to the better, and Madara's guilt eased off a bit.
But then, it crashed down.
It was so sudden they were completely unprepared.
And three days later, Izuna was dead.
When you're gone
The pieces of my heart are missing you
Madara choked. The big, fat lump in his throat wasn't going anywhere, however many times he tried to gulp him down.
Izuna was dead.
And to add the salt to injury, he had the gall to die when he, Madara wasn't there!
Stupid, idiotic, noble little brother...
He was tired, and he had gone to take a short nap, right after he had checked on Izuna.
Izuna was feeling well – he had been a little under weather, but otherwise okay.
When Madara woke up, it was already evening, and he made a beeline toward Izuna's room.
And froze.
The servants were tidying up, and the medic was looking tired – too tired to be normal.
And the last thing was that sweet, cloying scent of death, mixed with antiseptic, soap and warm summer breeze.
"I'm sorry, Madara-sama. Izuna-sama has passed on."
Those words would haunt him his entire life.
"When did he die?" His voice was too in control to betray the utmost shock and devastation he felt at the final... betrayal.
"Half an hour ago – we couldn't do anything. He died in his sleep, peacefully."
Madara didn't hear him.
If he had been here, just half an hour before –
The Sharingan activated. "Don't bother us."
With that curtly voiced command, the Uchiha clan head strode into the small room that served as Izuna's bedroom.
This... This was not Izuna.
This body was a shell of his beloved little brother, an emaciated, weak flesh , so hollow and empty, like a parody of a weird sculpture, that mocked all that Izuna represented.
Izuna's kindness, love of life, how he liked to watch the stars and his determination, his sometimes naive belief in the goodness of the world, his determination and Big Head No Jutsu, how he was so easily embarrared over the littlest of things, his protectiveness over the children...
No, this body didn't have anything that resembled Izuna. It didn't have his mischievous streak, or his wisdom, it didn't house his beautiful soul, it was a wonder how had something so ugly held in itself something so beautiful as Izuna's soul had been.
As a shinobi, Madara looked on death stoically – it was something that permanently stopped his enemies from harming either him or his clan. Even when their parents died, Madara was able to keep his bearings together, unlike his little brother.
When almost third of Uchiha clan was slaughtered because of that damned fox, Madara had been pissed, but not because he had any strong emotional ties, but because the beast dared to attack his clan, the Uchihas and managed to cause them significant amount of damage, thus rendering them weak in the eyes of their enemies.
He had seen the different faces of death, some peaceful, some downright ugly – but this one was the one that was bothering him the most.
Izuna shouldn't have died.
Not for him. Izuna was too young. Izuna shouldn't have been poisoned on that miserable excuse of a mission, either, but it happened.
Since that moment, -
Madara kneeled into the seiza position beside his brother's body, taking the cool, dead hand in his warm, full of life ones –
Madara decided he hated death.
When you're gone
The face I came to know is missing too
It was... too late. Too late for Madara to tell Izuna his secret, too late to turn time back, too late for many, many things –
Madara sobbed, tears of blood sliding down his pale cheeks, as his eyes – Izuna's eyes – looked out into the world, spinning and whirling, the later famed and cursed Magenkyo Sharingan had been born.
He could have, should have, would have... told him, told Izuna, but he had been too afraid; he had been too big of a stickler for rules, too big of a coward to take his beloved and tell him, that he loved him, not only as a brother, but as a lover.
A bloody, dirty hand grabbed the treasured pouch with the remains of the white lily, a mocking memory of what could have been, if he had been a little more stronger, a little bit braver –
But he had nothing, just the eyes, Izuna's eyes, his brother's eyes, his fated and missed lover's eyes and small brown pouch, full of memories.
When you're gone
The words I need to hear to always get me through the day and make it ok
I miss you
The funeral was simple. Madara didn't allow anyone to bury Izuna's body – he took it and burned it with the black flames, until nothing remained, just the flames, darker than night.
He was tired – too bloody tired, but the promise, of having Izuna again, or at least making Izuna's dreams come true, propelled him forward.
Until one day, one single day that changed it all.
Green eyes looked into red ones, tired, exhausted and weary, but still defiant. One Harry Potter was definitely NOT amused.
"Who the fuck are you and why the hell did you summon me?" He growled out, unmindful of the fact he was naked as a newborn baby and that it wasn't the brightest idea to aggravate someone that could kill you in a second.
One second he was on the battlefield, just triumphing over the Dark Lord Scaldywart, and the next, he was tugged through the straw/meat grinder to meet someone who didn't even have a courtesy to allow him to rest!
The man just stared at him, too shocked to say anything, if the wide red eyes with weird spinning wheelies inside were any indication.
The man approached him hesitantly, making Harry wary a little bit, but his irritation overcame his good sense and he stalked – more like staggered – toward the fucking idiot that would pay for his stunt – just as soon as Harry would get his bearings back... oh, and a small nap, and some piping hot bath wouldn't be amiss....
Madara stared at the naked, irritated body in the middle of the summoning circle. It was obviously a young man, with dark, messy hair and the greenest eyes he had ever seen.
But it wasn't the colour of the eyes that mesmerized Madara so. It was the spirit behind them, the same spirit his little brother once had.
The young man growled at him something distinctly unflattering, and in foreign language, but Madara was still too shocked. The youth arose, and staggered toward him – bruised, bleeding and some bones were definitely broken – Madara noted absently - but the youth was more than enough pissed to disregard everything except of his... 'summoner'.
Only one sound escaped past Madara's lips.
"I – Izuna?"
/End/Owari/