Blood Lust

Chapter 42

The soft breeze rustled and tugged on Madara's hair, tickling his skin until his eyes fluttered open. He didn't know where he was as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. There was a small house nearby with smoke swirling out of the chimney. It sat on an open field with no other houses in sight. There was a small garden beside the home that was decorated with vegetables and flowers. This was a place he had never been before, but it still seemed oddly familiar. It almost felt like home.

"Did you enjoy your nap, sleepy-head?" a familiar voice teased.

Madara's heart raced as he followed the sweet voice with his eyes. It seemed too good to be true.

"You really need to stop staying up so late," Hashirama chuckled, shaking his head. "You're useless during the day."

There he was, only a few feet away from Madara. He was hanging linens on a clothesline with a big smile on his face. The breeze made his hair fly around his tanned face gracefully. He was wearing a loose-fitting, white button up and brown pants that showed signs that he had been working in the garden prior. The bright sun above made him glow like an angel. Hashirama looked so beautiful like this. Happiness radiated off of him.

And then Madara remembered.

"The sun, Hashirama! You're in the sun!" Madara frantically shouted.

A laugh poured out of Hashirama. "Yes, I've been in the sun all day! How else am I supposed to dry these clothes? Are you still dreaming over there?"

Madara took another second to analyze the Hashirama he was seeing. The tanned skin, his dark brown eyes, and the comfort underneath the sun---he was completely human.

"Are you going to keep hiding in the shade, or are you going to come help me finish these chores?" Hashirama continued to tease.

Madara first looked up, finding that he was sitting underneath a large oak tree. The sun was completely blocked with the dense leaves that hung over his head. He then looked down at his hands, wondering if he was human, too. Nothing made sense, but he trusted Hashirama. Slowly, he stood up and timidly stepped out of the shaded area.

The sun pressed on his skin, enveloping him into a warm embrace. He wasn't burning. There was absolutely no pain at all. The feeling was incredible. It was something he had yearned to feel again. He was okay to be in the sunlight. He was clearly human, too.

"Are you feeling alright, darling?" Hashirama questioned, handing him a sheet to hang on the clothesline. "You're acting a little dazed."

Madara couldn't help but notice a silver band wrapped around Hashirama's ring finger as he held out the sheet. When Madara reached out with his own, he sported the same exact band on his finger. They were married. Happily, happily married.

"I'm---I'm wonderful," Madara grinned, settling into this blissful reality. "I actually feel great."

They took a few minutes to finish hanging the clothes and blankets to dry, exchanging soft smiles and giggles between each other in the process. It made Madara's heart feel so full to live in this reality. He was happy. Hashirama was happy. How could it get better than this?

Suddenly, he felt a gentle tug on his pants leg. His eyes fell down to find a little girl staring up at him with a big grin. She seemed no older than maybe four years old. Though he did not know who she was, there was still an instinct telling him that she was his daughter.

"Papa?" she called out to him. "When will dinner be ready? I'm hungry!"

Before Madara could speak, Hashirama intervened, "We'll go make dinner in just a minute. Why don't you keep playing with your brothers so we can finish up here. Okay, sweetheart?"

"Okay, daddy!" she beamed before barreling off towards the two boys playing in the distance.

Madara was in awe of this life. Marriage. Children. Happiness. It all seemed too good to be true.

"Madara?" Hashirama called out.

"Madara?"

"Madara?"

"Madara?"

The image of bliss was warping away. Hashirama's voice was becoming lost. Pain was flooding his body again all at once.

"Madara?"

"Madara!"

"Madara, wake up!" Tobirama shouted, shaking Madara awake.

There was no more sunlight and breeze. No small, cozy home or garden, either. All of it vanished into thin air. They were in a dark, stuffy room, instead. Hashirama was still missing, and pain was all Madara could feel.

"Madara, you're scaring us!" Izuna cried out. His trembling hands were wiping tears off of Madara's cheeks. He looked full of fear as he stared down at his older brother. "You're crying blood!"

Madara was still weakened from the drug Tobirama had injected into him. He tried to move his arms, but they felt to heavy to even budge. Panic was beginning to surge through him.

"What did you do to me!" Madara gasped. "I can't just lay here! I need to find Hashirama!"

"You need to stop, Madara!" Tobirama warned. "We have spent the past night brainstorming, so please relax! You'll hurt yourself!"

Through sheer willpower and rage, Madara raised up in the bed he was laying in. Every nerve in his body burned, making him clench his jaw to refrain from shouting.

"Tell me where we are," Madara seethed.

"We are back in the underground," Tobirama explained. "It was the closest location for us to find shelter."

Madara scooted to the edge of the bed, grunting in pain with every tiny movement he made. Izuna and Tobirama watched him with fearful eyes.

"You shouldn't get up," Izuna suggested timidly. "The drug needs to wear off. You're hurting yourself."

"Not having Hashirama with me hurts far worse than any physical pain," Madara snapped. "I'll rest when he's safe with me."

He stood up, clearly unsteady on his feet. Izuna held onto him, propping Madara's arm over his shoulders.

"Let's go find that perverted bastard," Madara ordered. "I'm going to make him talk."

____________________________________

Not too far from the inn the other three stayed at, Hashirama laid in an old, abandoned building. His body rested on some old blankets in the damp and damaged room. Water dripped from leaky pipes and mice scurried around in corners. Hashirama was completely unconscious and battered. His life was hanging on by a thread.

A young woman kneeled beside him, delicately tending to his horrendous wound. Occasionally, she would check the IV that was connected to his arm to make sure the blood was flowing properly. Her touch was gentle and soft, and her gaze harbored a bit of sadness as she looked at Hashirama.

"This world is cruel," she muttered to herself. "Letting you die would be the merciful thing to do."

She secured the bandages around Hashirama's abdomen. A sigh escaped her lips as she sunk her shoulders.

"But you have such a kind face," she continued, gently placing her palm on his chest. "And I'm sure you got hurt defending those you loved, so I'll make sure you live to see them again."

It was quiet in the room. Only the sound of dripping water and chattering mice echoed off the walls. She stiffened when she heard the sound of footsteps approaching her location. Her hand quickly retracted into her lap as she turned to face the door.

"Konan?" a man's deep voice called out to her. "Obito wants us to meet with him."