Kaze no koibitō

26

Steps echoed through the ruined building, even though the fighting going on outside was near deafening. To the two men circling each other, there was nothing else in the world at that moment. Uchiha Madara and Uchiha Itachi stared each other down, their Sharingan eyes spinning the whole while.

Neither one had made the first move yet, both knowing that the other was dangerous, too dangerous to rush toward. Madara knew that Itachi was quite possibly the best Sharingan user to come about since he had been in his prime. No one could surpass his skill or his dedication, not even his now deceased brother. Itachi knew Madara was cunning, canny, and devious. He knew of the man's ability to warp time and space. He knew that the man had forgotten more about the Sharingan than he probably would ever know.

But Itachi held a couple of wildcards, aces that he had wisely kept hidden until now. One was his shield, a mystic mirror that reflected any attack. He'd had to tell Madara of his sword, but he hadn't told the man the whole truth. Yes, the sword trapped the user in a blissful genjutsu for all eternity, but that was not all it did. The sword was not material and therefore, could be used in tangent with Susanoo.

It was risky to use and more than likely death inducing, but Itachi had nothing left to gain. Madara had everything to lose. Both knew the other had to die.

The footsteps stopped simultaneously and the two sprang for one another. A clang rang throughout the room, revealing both had drawn swords. Itachi threw his cloak off to the side, revealing the Uchiha fan on the back of his shirt, ripped in half by his own hand. It was a declaration to Madara that blood would not save him. The elder Uchiha sighed as he unsnapped his own cloak and let it drop to the floor, staring all the while at Itachi's back.

"So, you would even forsake your name? I'm disappointed in you, Itachi. I thought your goal was to reestablish the Uchiha name as an honorable one."

Itachi slowly turned so he could see the orange mask of Madara with one eye, the Sharingan within it slowly turning.

"That dream died along with my brother. My dreams rested on his shoulders and he simply could not take the responsibility. I'm glad that Uzumaki Naruto killed him before he could shame our family even more."

The younger man's eyes narrowed as Madara reached up to his mask and pushed it upward, revealing more and more of his face as he went. With one final shove, the elastic band holding it to his head slipped off and the porcelain cover clattered to the floor.

"I guess I won't be needing that anymore. I can see that I'll need both eyes to deal with you, child. No one else in our clan has ever come close to surpassing me. Yes, I'll have to deal with you accordingly."

The sharp sound of porcelain breaking rebounded off the walls as Madara crushed the mask underfoot, his carefully measured steps taking him closer to Itachi. The younger man sighed unhappily and tightened his grip on his sword as his Sharingan began to spin faster.

"That was always your problem, Madara. You always saw the clan. You always saw them as an ambition for yourself. A stepping stone. That's why the clan had to die. They saw themselves as you had. They couldn't see my way of looking at the people within the clan."

Madara cocked his head to the side, intrigued.

"And how did you see them?"

Itachi's mouth grew tighter and his muscles tensed.

"They were my family. That's why it hurt so much to kill them...and why you'll never know the pain I experienced when I did it. A clan is just a gathering of like-minded individuals. A family is made up of those who love one another."

Madara received no warning before Itachi rushed forward. Talking was done. This was the same as when he'd fought Hashirama...a clash of ideals.

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