Tales of the skies
« Lorsque l'enfant était enfant,Il ne savait pas qu'il était enfant,Tout pour lui avait une âmeEt toutes les âmes étaient une. »
« When the child was a child,
it didn't know it was a child,
everything was soulful,
and all souls were one »
– Peter Handke
When Madara was six he loved running. He run, blindly and eagerly.
He grew up on tales of love, in a war ruled world.
His mother whispered to him tales of a person waiting for him, yearning for him, only him.
Of how he will love and be loved, endlessly and utterly.
He dreamt of it.
One day, while running through an unknown village, he came across a woman holding an infant. He couldn't see her face, barely noticing her lavender hair, focusing only on the bundle in her arms. The young boy felt the need to look at it.
When he did, he met his soulmate.
Two days later, he came back to the village with Tajima Uchiha at his side. Only to see bloodied corpses scrapped on the streets.
The village was no more, nor his habitants.
The first time Uchiha Madara saw his soulmate he was six.
The second time Uchiha Madara saw his soulmate she was dead, killed by shinobis.
The sun watched as his small arms could barely hold her young body.
At six he hated running.
When he was twenty-six, Madara had all he ever wanted. Konohagakure was founded with his old friend, peace reigned.
His whole life he lived with a void. Chest filled with emptiness.
He tried ridding himself from it. Unsuccessfully.
One day, after a mission to Iwa, he stumbled upon a pond. Standing near it, watching the horizon, a girl. Hair unusually pink, cascading through her back.
He felt the need to approach her, blaming his hastiness on curiosity. Closer, he could study her petite frame better, the ivory kimono she was wearing emphasized her skin, so pale it seemed translucent. Feeling his presence, she turned, and he could finally look at her eyes.
Green like the forest, bright as the sun.
When their eyes met, heaven was under their feet. And the angels cheered on them.
Feet moving on their own, discarding his large gunbai, the Uchiha leader marched to the one he thought he lost.
When he, for the second time in his life, held her in his arms. When her smell reached his nostrils and her, thin, hands grasped his shirt, clinging into him, he thought the skies gave him a second chance.
For four days and four nights he stayed close to her, not leaving her once. Embracing her, feeling her, cherishing his miracle.
For four days and four nights, she laid in her futon, he sitting by her side. He observed her clear skin and pale lips, her captivating eyes. He smoothed her hair and removed the lingering strands from her glossed forehead.
For four days and three nights as they rejoiced in each others company, the talked and talked and talked. Of how they waited for the other, how they longed, hoped and lost hope, she for twenty years and he for twenty-one.
On the forth night, he could only cradle her as her body trembled, swept with spams.
And as the dawn came, the sun watched as, for one last time he held his soulmate's body, now cold.
At twenty-six Madara hated cherry blossoms.
Looking at his open palm, Madara observed the blood flowing through his now warm body.
Reincarnated, he quietly savoured the sound of his beating heart. Back from the dead yet still hollow.
When he killed the nine tails' jinshuuriki, he smelled cherry blossoms. And when he took of in his susanoo to the sky, he saw a pink head within the black mass.
He saw the tremor in the void.
As he descended, she cleared up, appearing as if alone in the middle of the battlefield. She looked like the enemy. Her peculiar hair short, held with the enemy's headband, and her chest covered with a green vest, like the enemy.
Still in his susanoo, he observed her eyes widen as they met his.
Green eyes, always like the forest, always bright as the sun.
When he grabbed her arm, not as thin, and pulled her into his susanoo, he couldn't rejoice.
This time as the soulmates met again, heaven darkened.
This time as the soulmates met again, the angels saddened.
When he, for the third time in his life, held her in his arms. Standing in his flying susanoo, closer to the sky than ground. He shunned the skies.
As his void filled to her presence, he observed her hesitant hand reach his face, mouth opening wanting to speak, yet no words came, eyes brimming with unshed tears.
Silently, she rested her forehead on his chest, appeased by the song of his beating heart.
At dusk, their journey through the heavens came to an end.
He took her near the pond, where they stood and talked. Of how she waited for him and how he lost her.
When she removed her headgear and her vest, when she healed her wounded arm, he could finally breath.
As they laid in their newly built cabin by the pond, he looked at her with hope.
Twelve month later, holding a bloodied bundle in his arms, he looked at her effort stricken figure. Panting heavily, arms stretched towards him pleading for the new born. As he deposed it on her chest, she latched on it.
Wailing for the child that left her, not even meeting her.
For two days and two nights, she held on her child's body.
For two days and two nights, he could only observe her paling features and the bluish corps she cradled earnestly, vigorously.
On the second night, he contemplated the misery of his life.
When the dawn came, the first ray of sunshine stood witness as he held his soulmate's lifeless body for the third time in his life.
And even after the third time, her death was still agonizing.
Reincarnated, Madara hated green.
Maybe in your next life we will meet again.
Hellooo!
First, thank you so much for reading.
The soulmate AU prompt was really appealing to me. I wanted to do something kind of dark and gloomy. Also make it like a sort of "explanation" to the descent in darkness of Madara.
Please tell me your thoughts about it.
Love xx