Chapter Text
Arc I: The Origin:
Prologue: The blood-soaked flower
— ₪ NTUC ₪ —
Why was the weather so nice?
The harsh sun glared overhead in a desolate blue sky. Azure patches peaked between the strangling tangle of branches from the trees. It’s heat spread across his neck, not quite burning, but it reminded him of its presence. Around him birds chirped, and crickets sang. Even the temperature was pleasant. Not cold, but not warm enough to be uncomfortable. A perfect day. Why though. It didn’t feel right for it to be such a nice day. Not when his heart was breaking in two. Not when he felt like grief would swallow him up.
He gazed upon her face. It was pale. Sweat glazed her brow, and normally brilliant blue eyes were dull and sluggish. Her short sunny blonde hair fell around her head like a halo. She struggled to breath. He could see her chest labor to keep the effort going. It was hard to ignore the splotch of crimson at her stomach. It was already darkened and cracking. A black kunai blade lay beside her, right next to a katana stabbed into the ground. It was beautiful, with a lavender hilt wrapping and white grip. The sunlight bounced off its gleaming silver blade and sent shafts of reflected white light to dart around the forest.
‘Dammit, why didn’t the Rinne Rebirth work? It’s supposed to totally rejuvenate her!’ He thought furiously. Tears poured from his black eyes. It was rare for him to show such emotion, but it was more than warranted. Her lips started moving as she struggled to speak.
“Ma-Mad … ara,”
“I’m here Kazehana. Don’t speak honey, save your strength.” He choaked out. It was hard to speak. A lump had formed in his throat, harder than he’d ever felt. “I tried to revive you but for some reason it’s not working! Hold on, I’ll try again.” Madara was about to try and perform the jutsu again. His irises pulsed. Concentric metallic purple circles rippled across the entirety of his eyes. Before he could finish, he felt her hand brush his softly. The slightly cold feeling of it filled him with fear.
“D-don’t.” She said. Her voice was barely a whisper. The words hit him with the weight of a hammer. His eyes returned to normal in his shock.
“What do you mean don’t?” He asked. Didn’t she know she’d die if he didn’t? She shook her head resolutely. There was a trace of strength in her gaze.
“D-don’t wa-waste that jutsu on m-me. If you do you’ll di-die.” She said.
“I know that. But I can’t stand for you to die. I’d rather die than know I couldn’t save you.” He insisted.
Before he’d known her his life was empty. Filled with nothing but hate and bitterness. She changed that. Changed him. It was Kazehana who taught him the importance of family again. She’d been his entire world for so long it was impossible to think of not having her there. How could he live in a world with out her to give him hope?
She shook her head again. “You c-can’t. What about Minato? He needs you more than me.”
That stopped him cold. Minato. His son. He’d been so caught up in seeing his wife dead that he’d forgotten that she’d taken Minato to a festival. His eyes searched across the road furiously. Compared to the beautiful scenery above it was a gruesome view. The bodies of numerous rough-looking men littered the path. They were cut to ribbons. All manner of weapons were scattered about. He couldn’t see any sign of his son.
“Where is he? What happened?” He asked urgently.
“I don’t know.” She said. “I managed to kill all those bandits. But after I died … my memory is hazy. A-all I remember is three ninja taking him away.” Her grip suddenly tightened on his hand. He was shocked she had the strength. It was obvious she was dying again. Her face was paler, and her touch was losing its warmth. “Please, you have to find him. No matter what!”
“I will.” He whispered. His voice was choked. There was a tightness in his chest. “Please, is there anything I can do?” He begged. Selfishly, he hoped she’d change her mind. Let him do the jutsu and save her. But he knew she wouldn’t
She smiled. “Two things. First, hand me my sword.”
The sword? What could she want with that? Nevertheless, he reached over and pulled it from the earth. It made a soft scraping sound as it was pulled out. He placed it gently in her other hand and helped her grip it.
“Thank you.” She said. To his surprise, he felt her chakra start to pour into the katana.
“What are you doing!” He gasped in shock. That would just make her die faster!
Kazehana let out a weak laugh. “I’m going to pour the last of my chakra and will into this sword. That way I can help Minato even if I’m not around. Part of me will live on in this sword.” She explained.
Madara nodded. His eyes stung with his tears. “And the other thing?” He asked gently. She looked at him. The way only she could. Her eyes were filled with love.
“Pl-lease, hold me while I go. I wa-want my last moments to be in the arms of the m-man I love.” She requested. He couldn’t speak. All he could do was pick her up with shaky hands. He clutched her tightly to his chest. In that moment he lost his nerve. His chest heaved with sobs.
“Let me save you. Please! I just don’t think I can go on in a world without you in it. I don’t want to be the man I was before we met.” He begged.
She shook her head against his chest. “No. Y-you need to have more f-faith in yourself. I do.”
His sobs doubled in strength. In that moment everything else seemed irrelevant. It was like all the other sounds faded away. Every other thing besides her was a blur. All he could hear was her breath. He could only feel her pressed against him. He could even detect the faint scent of her lavender shampoo. He took it all in greedily. Tried to burn it into his mind. He never wanted to forget a single thing about this amazing woman.
It was hard to tell how long they were there. The world seemed to be frozen, yet, moving infinitely fast all at the same time. Finally, he heard a whisper pass her lips.
“… I’ll be waiting for you, no matter how long it takes. My love.”
And that was it. Her breathing stopped. She went limp. The love of his life was dead. His long black and grey hair fell like a curtain as he wept. How could he possibly go on?
— ₪ NTUC ₪ —