Saviour

5.

I stayed at a Izuna's grave until sunset, taking in everything that had happened. I had kissed him... I had kissed Madara.

Hashirama's words came to mind.

"It will take a special person. It will take a special person to open your heart. They must be smart to catch your interest, then so special that they will have etched themselves into your heart without you noticing, and once they've done so, you will have no choice but to accept your feelings for them."

I sighed, then stood up to leave.

I went through the dark wooden front door of the home I shared with my brother. It smelled delicious; of fish and rice and soy sauce. Hashirama stuck his head out of the kitchen door when he heard me in the hallway.

"He left, didn't he?" he asked.

I didn't look up.

"I went to the Nakano and caught some fish. I wanted to make your favourite dinner."

My heart hurt. He really was kind. Maybe, I was too harsh to him sometimes.

I went and stood in front of him, head still hanging. I could see he wore that ridiculous apron of his. He opened his arms. I went into his embrace, placed my forehead on his shoulder and wept.

A meeting was held the day after with Hashirama, me, and three other highly regarded shinobi in Konoha. A plan was formed to find Madara. We would send a couple of teams that were none-elite to try to trace him, and also contact other great villages to make sure they kept their eyes open.

"You know it's useless?" I mumbled out of the corner of my mouth during a break in the meetings so that nobody else could hear.

"I know it's useless", Hashirama answered in an equally low voice.

When the day was over and everyone but me and my brother had left, I sat down heavily and put my elbows in my knees, my head in my hands, pulling at my hair. I felt Hashirama's heavy hand on my broad shoulder.

"He will come back", he said. "He will come back, or we will find him."

Six years passed, making me thirty and Hashirama thirty-three. And Madara...

"Do you sense him?" Hashirama asked from time to time, so much hope in his voice it was almost cute.

"No. And if I do I'll tell you." This was my standard answer. I was the best sensory ninja in the world, yet I couldn't sense him. Not even once.

I sighed, pulling off my armour, putting it on the dark floorboards of my home. I lived alone now, Hashirama living with his wife Mito. I enjoyed living on my own. I really was a lone-wolf, preferring my own company to others. But I still couldn't help but think...

I don't think I would have minded HIM living here...

I shook my head, preventing the train of thoughts that always followed of me wondering what had happened if I had asked him to stay. Do I regret my decision? I always reached the conclusion that I didn't. I was completely comfortable with what I had told Madara; that he was an adult capable of reaching his own decisions.

And he decided to leave me...

I had been frightened Hashirama would start nagging me about finding someone like he had found Mito, but he never did. He never brought the topic up. When I asked him about it, he looked at me as if I were dumb. "I told you it takes a special person to etch themselves into your heart. And that person was Madara. You didn't even notice it; it must have happened for years for you to react so strongly to his despair at Izuna's death. And now his name is carved into your heart, it's him or no-one, because that's the type of man you are. Why would I bother you about it?"

I had stared at him, mouth agape, and realised he was right. It was Madara. Had always been.

Would always be.

I sunk down to my knees, panting. Sweat dripped down my forehead, landed on the sand of the Nakano river bank. Perfect, I thought. It's perfect.

In front of me, three fish lay. Up until one minute ago, they'd been dead. But now they were splattering on the ground, gasping for water. I picked them up and tossed them into the river, where they swam away.

I had done it. I had perfected my gift to Madara.

I had perfected my reanimation jutsu.

I would offer it to him so he could undo what I'd done to Izuna.

I spent several hours a day on missions and doing administrative work for Hashirama. And the hours I had before I went to bed to catch my nightly five hours of sleep, I spent at the Nakano river bank, training, creating jutsu.

"You're formidable", Hashirama said. "You've created more jutsu than any shinobi already, and you're only thirty."

I gave him a lopsided smile. "Thirty is an old age for a shinobi. Most have already died in war by our age."

But I kept working, creating jutsu after jutsu, and they were all advanced, complicated, powerful. I was once more on my knees, clad in only trousers, my bare chest full of rashes and dirt and sand. My hair hung in greasy strands over my forehead, the red stains on my cheeks were smudged out I saw as I mirrored myself in the river, splashing water on my face. Madara... everything I did was for Madara. The jutsu I created was so I could stand against him in a fight and bring him home. The training I did was so that he would appreciate my calibre. And my appearance. I had gained so much muscle weight these past six years, I was afraid Madara wouldn't recognise me when I saw him again.

If I saw him again...

There had been no trace of him. None at all. Other nations had formed, and their leaders kept their eyes open as well. I missed him. I missed him so much. So I drowned myself in work and training to keep my mind off it, but also because it kept the dream of seeing him again boiling in my mind. The dream of seeing him again felt more real if I trained for him, worked for him, became a better man for him... I wanted him to be impressed by me, to see me as an equal, to feel safe with me, to walk into my embrace and stay...

Hashirama looked at me for a long time.

"What have you been doing?"

I looked at my bruised arms, my rash-covered torso. I was still bare-chested from training. "Jutsu."

"I've seen corpses that are better off than you."

"Hehh..." I smirked.

Hashirama suddenly got a serious expression on his face where he sat in his hokage's chair. "Madara has been sighted."

My jaw dropped.

I felt all blood leave my face.

I dropped to my knees.

My mind went blank.

And my heart opened, swallowed me up.

Swallowed me whole.