facebook prompt fill
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"so... here we are."
hashirama's blade sliced a layer of madara's skin. even in the face of death he was oddly calm, and she felt indifferent for admiring this trait of his.
if this was seven hundred days ago, she would've smiled and leaned on his shoulder, burying herself amidst the tangled mess that was his mane, inhaling the scent of war and never-fully-healed wounds from his back.
"here we are," hashirama repeated with a voice so unlike hers; so lifeless and raspy, spoken as if her jaw was controlled by a puppet master far away.
madara cocked his head, maintaining his arrogant smirk. "what stops you, hokage-sama?" when she didn't answer, he added, "this isn't he first time you see me bleeding."
her lips parted and closed.
"you're hoping to reconcile."
she blinked.
"throw that pipe dream away," madara sighed. the roots she grew bound his limbs and torso, sapping his chakra until his sharingan couldn't be activated. he was slowly dying.
"i just want you to know..." hashirama drew her blade, pointing it to a spot above his left chest. "no hard feelings."
"no hard feelings," madara scoffed, "after all these years and the children we made; no hard feelings?"
"you left me without choice," she said with the same lifeless voice, pushing the blade past his clothes and skin—
"say it then," madara demanded, "say that you don't love me."
hashirama drove her sword further into his heart. she leaned closer, whispering, "this is my responsibility."
"fine," madara said, barely audible as he coughed blood, "i'll say it—i love you, hashi."
the roots returned to earth. she laid down madara's lifeless body on the ground, wiping blood from his wounds.
hashirama allowed herself to shed a single tear, but no more.
rain had descended from the heavens.