Naruto (c) Masashi Kishimoto

"I'll come back," he looked at her as he curled a finger beneath her chin and raised her head up so their eyes met. "Yuzuki, I'll come back. I promise," he used his thumb of his other hand to dry her tears. "No crying. Uchiha women don't cry," a weak smile flickered across his lips.

"Please... don't go," she whispered, her voice choked with tears. "There has to be another way."

"There is no other way," he gave a weary sigh, tired of this argument. "I'm... forgive me?"

"Still can't apologize," a smile quirked along her lips. "Not even to your own wife?"

"Yuzuki," he closed his eyes and leaned in close.

"Madara?" her lips brushed his when she uttered his name.

"I love you," he pressed his lips to hers before she could replied. One arm wrapped around her waist and the other her shoulder blades, drawing her deeper into the kiss as their tongues battled for dominance.

Yuzuki felt her tears roll down her cheeks as she tangled her fingers into his hair. She didn't want to let him go. She wanted to hold onto him forever and all evers. Why... why did he have to go.

They took a quick breath without breaking apart and continued to kiss, as if they could convey all that was unable to be spoken. Both feeling that this would be their last moment together, despite promises sworn, oaths taken and vows made. They both knew, deep in their hearts that it was a final farewell.

Alas, the demand for oxygen was too great and they reluctantly pulled apart. Madara pressed his forehead against Yuzuki's, his eyes shut to force the tears away. He still hadn't properly grieved for the lost of his beloved brother, and he'd be damned if he let a single tear fall.

Yuzuki felt the muscles in his jaw tighten as she cradled his face in her hands. Her fingers memorizing the contour of his face; his high cheekbones, his kingly nose, his thin lips, even the faint scar by his left temple. Where his father had struck him with a cup when he was a mere child.

"Madara, I—" Yuzuki's voice caught in her throat, for she was held enthrall by his sanguine eyes.

The tomoe of his Sharingan spun lazily. Yuzuki gave a strangled cry and Madara caught her. He canceled his Sharingan and stared down at his wife. Her black eyes glazed over from the genjutsu. Gently he placed her on a nearby bench, removed his cloak and covered her with it. Once he was sure she was comfortable. He turned his back and walked out of the village.

Yuzuki's throat tightened as she remembered that last night she saw her husband. Hashirama had returned victorious, carrying a weak Uzumaki Mito in his arms. There had been a search, but Madara's body was never found. Even the clan that had abandoned him admitted it was a half-hearted effort.

Yuzuki could tell that all of Konohagakure seemed to have breathed a sigh of relief. Even Uchiha seemed to be thankful that Madara was dead.

Yuzuki hated it.

Hated it like she never hated before.

Finally, she understood what Madara had been talking about for their eighteen-year marriage.

She twisted her grip on the sword Hashirama brought to her. The only piece of her husband left.

Oh, how she thought of putting that blade through her chest. Letting it cut her out her heart, so she could join her husband.

She watched as Ran and Katsuro stood at opposite ends of their father's empty coffin, wove the six required seals and belched flames, setting the coffin ablaze.

Yuzuki had refused to follow the growing Senju costume of burying their dead. She knew Madara would have hated having his body trapped underground, even if all they had was an empty coffin. She could almost hear him scoff at the very idea of being buried and then launch in a long list of why the idea was stupid, first among them was that he would rather have body torn to bits by ravenous wolves before he allowed his corpse to be placed beneath the Senju's feet.

Yuzuki felt a bitter laugh escape her throat at the thought. It sounded so much like him. His haughty arrogance, his insufferable pride, his impossible ego... all those things combined with his cruelty and malice and warmongering, were reasons she had hated him. He was a bully and he reveled in that fact. He had every reason to be as well, he had the power to back up his boasts and the weight he threw around.

Yet, she had known none of that when she was a naïve sixteen-year-old brat. Or the rare moments of kindness he could show. He was, ironically, a good man. He had gained that power to protect his brother, his clan, those he loved and cherished.

Yuzuki was proud to say that she was one of those lucky few that had earned a place on that anointed pedestal of respect. He had slowly let her in. Layer by layer, she had learned about the man behind the name Demon-eyes. Had shared intimate and tender moments with him.

They had built a family and a home together. Outsiders couldn't deny that they were very much in love, even if Madara normally wore a stoic mask of indifference. It was in his subtle body language, how he listened to her views, even if voicing them were futile in getting him to change his mind. Madara was an independent man, and once his mind was made up, it took a journey through hell and back to get him to consider changing it. How he allowed her to nurse him when he was ill or stitch wounds close after battles, and how he welcomed her embrace after a long campaign when the troops returned in front of everyone.

There was always a bit of yin in the yang and vice-versa. Yuzuki was proud to admit that she had loved him.

"Mother?" Ran's voice brought her back to reality. A reality that was cold and bitter and lonely. Madara had been her pillar of strength. Even though she knew now he would tell her to look forward, he was ever a man looking forward. To a future were Uchiha may live in safety and peace, with the Senju in their rightful place at the mercy of the Uchiha. Yuzuki suddenly realized that the future, the glorious future he had envisioned for his clan, was now ash and dust.

"Yes, Ran?" Yuzuki looked at her second son. She could see his father in him. He had Madara's thin lips and intense stare, yet those features were softened by the roundness of his face which came from her.

"Do you want me to take Father's sword?" he held out his hand for the sword she was clutching tightly. Yuzuki looked down at it and gave a grim smile. She had bought this blade for Madara, as a so-called wedding present when they were visiting Emi on her wedding day. It was a Tojo blade, one of the finest blades in the world. Yuzuki curled her fingers around it tighter.

"No... it's fine," she forced out through her tears. She looked at her other son, but the glance was brief and it brought her heart so much sorrow. Katsuro was the spitting image of Madara. Yuzuki looked over at Hikari, who was sobbing in the arms of her husband, Arata. Any unfinished business Hikari had with her father would remind so for the rest of her life.

"Do you want me to walk you home?" Katsuro asked.

Yuzuki looked at her eldest, despite the pain it caused her. "No, you are clan leader now, Katsuro. Stay with Yayoi, make your speeches," Yuzuki tucked some hair out of her eldest son's face, "make your father proud."

"I will Mother," Katsuro took his mother's hand in his.

"You know he missed your birth," Yuzuki gave a bitter smile. "I was so angry with him. I didn't want to speak to him, but he reminded me that the world didn't revolve around me anymore. We had a son to worry about, and that I couldn't hold a grudge against him for something he wasn't able to prevent."

"I know, you and Father have told me many times," Katsuro smiled softly.

"My sensitive boy," Yuzuki laughed, "he named you because he won against Senju. He named you in honor of his victory."

"I know."

"Yeah, and I get saddled with a girl's name," Ran muttered bitterly.

"He wasn't happy that I insisted that be your name," Yuzuki laughed. "He wanted to name you Isamu or Tatsuya, something... strong. But, he reluctantly agreed to your name. It suits you."

"And what about our sister?" Katsuro asked.

"Tch," Ran shook his head.

"You two were your father's favorites, I won't deny that, but he did love your sister in his own way," Yuzuki sniffed. "I... I'm going to go home," she whispered.

"Are you sure you don't want me to take you?" Ran asked.

"Positive Ran," Yuzuki smiled and walked off, towards her house.

The Uchiha widow was surprised to see Hashirama inside her house. "What are you doing here?" she snarled, glowering hatefully at the man that butchered her husband.

"A glare fit for an Uchiha," Hashirama gave a ruefully bemused smile, "if only you possessed the Sharingan."

"Get out, Hashirama! I don't want to see you again!"

"Yuzuki please be reasonable..."

"No! You killed my husband! You killed Madara!"

"I didn't want to!" Hashirama snapped. "I didn't want to kill my best friend!"

"Best friend? Best friend! Madara had no friends! They are all dead!"

"I considered him a friend," Hashirama replied softly.

"Then you are a fool! A weak and naïve fool. He hated you! He only wished to see you dead!"

"Yuzuki, I know you're upset, but please... I assure you, if there was any other way... I would have done it. I would..."

"He promised me he'd come home! Why did you have to become Hokage! Why you? What's so special about you, Hashirama! Madara deserved to be Hokage! He just wanted the world to accept him! All he ever desired was to be wanted! What made you so much more special!" Yuzuki screamed.

"I... never forgot my friends," Hashirama replied with a shrug.

"What?" Yuzuki blinked.

"My friends... they... I don't know, Yuzuki. I don't know why I was chosen to be Hokage over Madara! I don't know Yuzuki! I... I miss him just as much as you do."

Yuzuki slapped him. "Get out." She snarled, "Get out of my house and never, ever speak my husband's name again!"

Hashirama rubbed his cheek as he stood up. He looked at her with sad hazel eyes before leaving. Yuzuki watched him go, her throat tight with her grief as tears rolled down her cheeks. She rubbed her nose, but nothing would hold back her tears. "Madara..." she whispered.

Yuzuki stared at his empty pillow. It still had his scent. A mixture of his pipe-weed, smoke from the fireballs he breathed, and that scent that was just distinctly Madara. To her it smelled like peppermint, maybe ginger. She wasn't sure. She could almost hear his voice, chiding her to go to sleep as she watched him. He would groan and put his arm over his eyes, before he gave up and put that very arm around her and pull her close to his muscular torso. He would kiss the crown of her head before resting his cheek there and finally, they'd both drift off to sleep.

But now... all she could do was stare at the glaringly obvious empty space where he should be. He should be home, in bed with her, making love to her as if the world would end tomorrow. Thanking her when she muttered I love you.

"Madara... I'm so sorry... I... I love you," she whispered into the darkness, grabbing his pillow and pulling it close to her. She inhaled his scent and cried.

He stood atop the waterfall, in the spot where a descendant of his would one day stand, where a large stone carving in his likeness would one day be built, in a half-hearted attempt to remember him. Lavender eyes fixed where Hashirama's heir would one day stand facing his descendant. Those demonic orbs shifted to the direction Konoha was and he felt his heart pang briefly with guilt and longing. But the dead man shook his head, knowing it was better to leave the village behind him.

He had things to do. A plot to hatch that would bring the very world to it's knees and split the heavens asunder.

He will get his revenge.

"Yuzuki... I'm sorry," Madara muttered as he limped off in the direction of the land that would one day be home to a village known as Otogakure. He snorted ruefully, an odd smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. "There, I apologized."

Gaaah!

I finally wrote something!

Imaginaerum is awesome.

Sorry I haven't been working on SotM. ^^; I have a part of it done... yeah... I know.

Title for this is taken from Dead Boy's Poem by Nightwish. "A lonely soul... an ocean soul..."

I was honestly feeling... sad/depressed/lonely about leaving for my new duty station soon, since I'm home on leave currently. So what always helped me is writing and this has been in my head since reading Chapter 61 of A Fresh Snow Fall (yes Kay, you inspired me to write this!)

Now, for a few notes.

Madara a good man: Yes, I know people are going to yell at me and say I'm "changing Madara" by calling him a good man and that I'm just a stupid fangirl living through my OC. First off, LISTEN to me. I have a perfectly logical explanation as to why Yuzuki considers Madara a good man. He stated himself (well, Tobidara did anyways) that he only gained power to protect his clan. To protect those he viewed most precious to him. Augustus (the First Roman Emperor) was a tyrannical dictator, yet he was a good man for he brought about the Pax Romana, which was a period of roughly two hundred years of peace to the Roman Empire. Why can't Madara be a similar man? With the appearance of Zombidara, Uchiha Madara of Pre-Konoha is a blank slate. Artistic liberties here people.

Hashirama never forgetting his friends: Honestly, I've wondered what made Hashirama more qualified than Madara to lead Konoha. I mean, in my mind they were both equally qualified to lead. Why did Hashirama get picked? Then I read a colored version of Chapter 552 page 9, and it suddenly clicked. Hashirama never forgot his friends. He had people willing to vouch for him and Madara didn't. Imagine if he had the backing of the Uchiha, imagine if he had friends when he challenged Hashirama. Lols, here I am talking about the History of Konoha as if it's real.

Naruto as Hashirama's heir: Simply, because "Heir to the Will of Fire" is a mouthful. Lots of people like to draw parallels between Hashirama and Naruto. Even though there is about enough to draw parallels between Izuna and Kabuto. And arguably, Naruto is technically Senju... on his mother's side. Kushina stated that the Uzumaki and Senju were distant blood relatives. Naruto has Uzumaki blood flowing through his veins. He is technically a descendant of the Sage of Six Paths. But, that's if you want to get technical and pull out genealogies and shift. This itty bitty fact also proves that SasuNaru is technically incest. Since if you trace Naruto (through his mother's side) and Sasuke's families back far enough, they become relatives. Just thought I through that out there.

Lavender eyes: Well, Madara did awaken Rin'negan some time before his death. Why can't it be during the Battle at the Valley of the End?

Aaaah... yeah, that's it.

R'n'R

Sanguinary Toxicity