So this is a little new, but what kind of writer doesn't try new things! I don't really know what to call it, so yeah. Enjoy! This is dedicated to the lovely Sora Keyblader who requested this. I hope you enjoy it!
Also, if you have a request of your own, don't be afraid to ask me! I'll try my best to write one for you!
Paring: MadaraIzuna (MadIzu?)
Rating: M
Warnings: Uchihacest. In a new light.
Word Count: 1,494
Disclaimer: Izuna and Madara aren't mine, they're Kishi's.
Schizophrenia
It was quiet in the Akatasuki base ever since the damn Konoha nin killed off nearly all the members. Only Madara, Zetsu (barely), Sasuke, and his team were left alive; all were currently in a base that was still unknown to the other shinobi nations. It was here that they were recuperating, getting ready for the war that was upon them.
Nearly three in the morning, Madara was the only one awake, sitting alone in the dark, thoughts swirling around his head. He knew that he should be getting his rest also; he just declared war on the entire shinobi world and would be needing all the strength he had. Gathering the energy to get up, Madara sighed, rubbing his hand over his aged face showing the hidden fatigue that he normally hid behind his orange mask.
Making his way through the base, Madara let the voice that he normally kept chained down dance through his head. It was a voice that he knew as well as his own, one that he could never forget and the one he wished he could hear outside of his own head: Izuna.
Missed me brother? The voice gave a small, innocent laugh. You're always telling me how it's the last time, but you always give in after a time. Good thing I'm patient.
Madara only grunted, the only acknowledgement he'd ever give the voice that shouldn't be there. He knew that he was legally sick in the head. He wasn't so delusional to think that hearing your dead brother's voice talk to you like he was right next to you was normal.
Still walking down the halls towards his room, Madara came to a stop outside of another room. He gazed at the door for a moment before he reached his hand out for the doorknob, quietly slipping his way into the room that wasn't his own. Knowing that it would just be better to turn out of the room, Madara walked in farther, stopping next to the bed that lay within the room. He knew it was wrong, but he was sick and alone. He needed this.
Gazing at the sleeping Sasuke, Madara could only make comparisons to his brother. It was strange how much Sasuke looked like his Izuna. It was probably the Gods trying to punish him; showing him what he most desired but without having the privilege to take it.
What are you doing here Aniki? That's not even me! I don't think the boy looks anything like me. I was much better looking. I didn't look like some damn gender challenged male. If he let his hair grow out and threw some makeup on, he could go into hiding as a girl and none would be the wiser.
Madara could only give a small, amused smirk at his otouto's voice. He continued gazing at Sasuke, a hand hovering over the young boy and for once in his life, he broke his only personal rule: he talked back. You're right otouto. You were much better looking.
The voice that Madara was so sure to reply was silent. His head was completely silent. He gave a sardonic smile. If he had known all he had to do was talk back to the voice to quiet it, he would have done it years earlier. Ignorance wasn't always bliss it seemed.
"I'm surprised Aniki. You broke your only rule. You must be getting lonely if you're talking back to me. I'm not complaining though."
At the voice that was outside his head, Madara whipped around to gaze at the source. He couldn't believe his eyes. It was impossible. There, leaning against the open doorway was Izuna. Never had Izuna manifested himself like he did now. There was only ever a voice, but then again, Madara never talked back to the voice. But to think his brother would be standing before him was something else. Izuna was not old nor was he eyeless. In fact, he seemed to be frozen in a time that was happier for the two brothers, one where the only thing they had to fear was the wrath of their mother.
"Do you want to train with me, Aniki? It has been a while since the last time we just trained without anything to worry about," asked Izuna, a smile playing across his lips and a curious tilt to his head. He was playing his brother like he used to, way back when.
Madara could only turn and take a step towards his Izuna. How long had he wished to have his brother back at his side? To train with, to fight with? Someone he could share his dreams and hopes and goals with? Someone who understood him for who he was? Someone who loved him and someone he could love? But as soon as his step was complete, Izuna twisted out of the room and in to the hallway. Not to be left behind, Madara immediately dashed out of the room, desperation taking over: he didn't want to be left behind again.
Running as fast as he could, Madara tried to catch up to his brother, to grab Izuna and pull his otouto to his chest (the fact that Izuna wasn't real had disappeared from Madara's thoughts). However, every time he thought he'd finally caught up with his brother, Izuna disappeared around a corner, laughing at Madara's antics to catch him.
Running down a hallway, Madara finally caught up to his brother, running slightly behind him. It seemed that Izuna had a place to go and wherever he went, Madara wanted to go to. Approaching the door to the outside, Madara could only wonder where Izuna was planning to go. Suddenly, Izuna put on a burst of speed and slammed through the door, alighting the hallway and Madara who could only flash a realization that it couldn't possibly be light out before stumbling through the door.
As his eye adjusted to the sudden light, Madara realized that even if none of what he saw was real, he never wanted to leave. Before him stood his Izuna, standing with his hands behind his back, leaning against a training post. It wasn't just any training post, however, it was the one that the two brothers had made and placed in the training grounds behind their house in the Uchiha clan land. It was the one they had made before all the wars had broken out and they became hired hands for other nations. It was the one that they had made when they were free from the world.
Turning in a circle, Madara took in the buildings of the time. Everything was as he remembered it. All the noises and hustle and bustle of the Uchiha clan, the landscape, the feeling of home; he could even smell his mother's homemade cooking. It was then he caught his reflection in the koi pond that his mother insisted the boys and their father make. He took a step closer, not believing eye, or now, eyes. He looked as he did in the same time too. Young, healthy, and happy; not old, washed out, mentally unstable, and angry. His hair was longer and he didn't have to hide his disfigurement and identity behind his mask. Here, he was truly Uchiha Madara.
Tearing his eyes from the pond's reflection, Madara looked over to Izuna who was smiling widely at his Aniki. "Welcome home brother. I've missed you."
Madara was only able to stare at his brother in awe. In all terms of reality, this was impossible, but for once he wasn't going to question this, this paradise. Straightening up, Madara made his way towards his brother. He didn't know how long this was going to last, but he was going to take advantage of the time he had, even if it wasn't real.
Stepping up in front of his brother, Madara looked down into the eyes of his slightly shorter otouto. Raising his hand, Madara ran it along Izuna's jaw line and to the back of his neck, where he curled his fist into the hair at Izuna's nape. Tugging his brother's head back, Madara lowered his head until he was breath away from his brother's lips. Taking in Izuna's face and slightly increased breathing, Madara curled his lips into a slight smirk before he pressed them against his brother's.
Pulling back slightly, Madara whispered against Izuna's lips, "I love you, and I always will my precious Izuna," before he pushed himself fully against Izuna, completely pinning the younger against the training post.
Madara's thoughts as he stripped his brother were that even if this was genjutsu, he didn't want to release; if this was a trap, he didn't want to escape; if this was his mentality breaking, he didn't want it fixed. He wanted this to last forever; he was finally where he was supposed to be. He was home. He was in his brother's arms.
