Disclaimer: Still don't own Naruto or Sandman.
After the End
Pain burned through Madara's body, radiating from the weapons stuck in his back. He could tell that one of his lungs had been punctured--breathing was excruciatingly painful and accompanied by an alarming whistling sound. He could hear Hashirama walking away, his steps slow and halting. He was wounded too, and he genuinely regretted having to kill the man who had been both a worthy rival and his partner in founding Konoha.
Madara closed his eyes. So this is it, then? All of it was...for nothing?
"Are you really going to give up so easily?"
Madara's eyes snapped open at the unfamiliar voice. He managed to raise his head just enough to see the person standing in front of him. It was hard to tell the individual's gender. It had the slender build and curves of a woman, but the square jawline and deep voice of a man. It was wearing shinobi armor, but its forehead protector was blank, and there was no clan symbol anywhere on its clothing.
"Who...?" Madara's voice, usually so strong and commanding, had been reduced to a whisper.
"That doesn't matter," said the visitor. "I'm not here to talk about me. I'm here to talk about you. You're supposed to be the patriarch of the Uchiha Clan, the possessor of the Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan, the master of the Kyuubi. And yet here you are, lying on the ground, ready to die. Pathetic."
Madara growled. "How...dare..." He coughed, and blood spattered the ground.
The mysterious observer bent over Madara and yanked the swords out of his back. He couldn't draw in enough breath to scream. Then the person passed a hand over his back, and the pain vanished. Tentatively, he tried to take a deep breath and found that he could. "Was that a medical ninjutsu?"
"Not exactly." The person stepped back and placed its hands on its hips. "What is it that you want, Madara?"
Noting the lack of an honorific, Madara glared, but chose to answer the question. "I want my clan to hold its rightful place of leadership in this village. I want us to be honored and feared for our strength. I want the power of the Uchiha to be acknowledged." He scowled. "And I want revenge on the spineless bastards who gave all of that up for the sake of peace." He spat the last word contemptuously.
"Then don't just lie there feeling sorry for yourself. Get up and take what you want. That's the way you've always done things, isn't it? Are you some wet-behind-the-ears genin who gives up the first time he's beaten? Or are you a real shinobi?"
In an instant, Madara was on his feet, one hand locked around the stranger's neck. "Do not ever insult me again," he warned. His voice was a whisper again, not from weakness, but because he had learned that a menacing whisper was often more effective than a shout.
The stranger only smiled, and...stepped out of Madara's grip. Even with his Sharingan activated, he couldn't see how the person had done it. One second, its neck was firmly in his grasp, and the next, it was standing a few inches to one side.
"What...what kind of jutsu was that?"
The stranger didn't reply with words. It merely placed one hand on either side of Madara's face, and pulled him forward into a fierce kiss. Madara's eyes widened. What the fuck is going on here?
The mysterious individual pulled back and smiled. "There. Now my older sister won't be able to find you."
"What...older sister...what are you talking about?" Madara's whole body tingled. What he'd just experienced was, without a doubt, the most satisfying kiss of his life.
"Go, Uchiha Madara. You desire so much, so strongly. I've given you what you need to obtain it. The rest...is up to you."
Then the figure disappeared, and Madara was left alone at the Valley of the End.
A/N: ...Did I just write a DesirexMadara scene? Did I really? First an ItaDei oneshot, and now this. I really don't know what's gotten into me. (And hey, it's as good an explanation as any for how Madara got to be immortal.)