itachi-uchiha-weasel

First Kiss “It’s really disgusting, you know that, right?” Hashirama looked up in surprise to his brother, who was standing above him, with his hands on his hips and a sneer on his face. He couldn’t imagine what did he commit - he was just cleansing and organising his shurikens and kunais. He didn’t see what was so shocking about that. Well, Tobirama seemed to be angry about something constantly these days. He couldn’t resent him for this - they lived through very painful and tough times. It was no surprise that a twelve year old couldn’t take things easily under such conditions, even if he was as f

It was familiar. So familiar, Hashirama couldn't bear to lose that familiar chakra. He was so close, but it was managing to dodge him no matter how fast he went. Almost as though it was toying with him. Despite being a man of patience, he couldn't stand someone intentionally playing around with him for very long.  It grated endlessly on his nerves. Taking in recognizable smell of the waterfall, alarming him of how close he was to the border, he knew there were only two options remaining: allow the enemy to simply escape, or figure out a way to take it down once and for all. Given his current condition -- his body didn't fair well from the b

Darkness. Not something Madara was used to. He preferred light, as would anyone else. Of course, darkness was at times beneficial; stealth, being the most notable. But not this type of darkness. Not the type that gave you no hint or clue for how to escape it. Once you fell, you were lost forever. A labyrinth of shadows and  hatred. Hatred, Madara ponders. Hashirama had wondered where he'd received that word, and why he related it to darkness. Of course, he wouldn't understand. Hashirama was too good. Too full of light to be one with the darkness. However, all light has shadows. That could possibly be why Hashirama would continuously attempt

Madara heaved an aggravated sigh, cursing the man in front of him. It was his father, of course, but that was of little consequence. It only meant he had to keep his mouth shut while he fumed silently about what was being said. But he’d be damned if he wasn’t pissed off at the old man just then. He was tired...so tired. He’d been fighting for at least half a month straight, and all the rest he’d had for that time was a more than derisory two hours a day. It was brutally draining on his body, and every muscle in him demanded sleep, craving of life-giving slumber. He’d collapse where he stood if he wasn’t so dete

Just a Child Itachi Uchiha, age eight, scrambled to his feet as fast as he could just in time for Madara's fist to whizz by his head. Itachi gasped and stumbled back, then blinked, feeling a stinging pain on his cheek. He reached up and touched his cheek to feel a thin hairline of blood. He gulped, then let his Sharingan flash in his eyes and across the training field at his sensei, who was smiling innocently. "Itachi, didn't I tell you to look out for OTHER ways to harm your enemy? Such... A kunai?" He asked, then openedh is fist to reveal a small kunai between his fingers. Itachi pouted. "I wasn't thinking straight." He snapped, sounding