A/N: You reap what you sow.
4: Madara's First Nemesis
The Shinigami hated repetition and by extension he was learning to hate Uchiha Madara. It had been a month since Uchiha Madara, all of five years old, had begun his proper ninja schooling and every day since then the Shinigami had to stop by the school to pick up a new dead soul or ten. Not that the Shinigami minded; small children always cried the most, and it was a well-known fact that the Shinigami fed on the tears of the innocent. Also anyone who dared to say the word "meh" to his face. The Shinigami was particular like that.
The problem was the company that the Shinigami was having to keep. He, like everyone else in existence, didn't like the Uchiha much. So here he was, reaping a couple dozen dead Uchiha that had died in a fire under mysterious circumstances.. The word "mysterious" was ancient Uchiha for "Madara."
"Damn." The Shinigami swung his scythe into someone's head. "Brat." He stabbed someone in the back. "Making." Another swing. "Me." A slice this time. "Be." Three heads in one swoop. "Around." He kicked a dead body. "The Uchiha."
The Shinigami rose up to his full height and sighed. He was going to enjoy the day Uchiha Madara died.
If he had known how long it was going to take he might have just done it himself that day.