Hashirama's words fell on deaf ears, for both of them. Izuna thought it was a sweet sentiment, a sentiment his younger brother -- Izuna's own lover -- would never share. There was no room for the Uchiha in that life, no space carved out in Tobirama's life; he ranked low on the list of priorities.
I will go out proud. I will not shame my clan, and I will not shame Madara. I am a strong Uchiha warrior. I will not show them how much this hurts.
"I don't forgive you," he whispered, knowing those words would wreckdestroymaim. Absolution was something he wasn't granting him, and the twisted part of him realized that Tobirama would live with those words forever, haunting him. He would die knowing that he killed Izuna not once but twice, and his lover didn't forgive him. He would come to the Pure Lands knowing that Izuna was there, nursing wounds that were old but never fading.
The word, kai, hung in the air, and he could feel it, feel the light inside of him, could finally feel that papery skin starting to flake away. He looked down at his hands, staring at the halo of luminance, feeling his grip with the world, with this dead body he puppeted becoming thin, loose. His strength was fading fast; he didn't have long.
Maybe it was crueler that he did have time than if he didn't.
He looked to Hashirama, face grim. "My brother is a good man," he whispered. "I don't think you can kill him, but if you have the chance, I ask that you don't. Spare him. He...deserves peace. He deserves happiness. And don't tell him I was here. It...would pain him to know that he couldn't see me himself."
Slowly, he turned back to Tobirama, and he hated it, hated looking at him, hated the way his own eyes were watering, the tears that started to slip down his flaking cheeks. Betrayal burned as much the second time as it did the first, that searing in his chest, the kind that beat against his ribs, that clutched his guts. Lips parted, closed, and parted again.
"You spoke of my curse, Tobirama," he whispered, "but you have it as much as I do. Look what you have done for what you think is love: murder, lies, breaking the laws of nature. Look at how you killed what you used to hold at night. It will never leave you; this will follow you no matter who you touch after me. It will follow you to the Pure Lands."
Those pale, glowing fists shook at his sides as he raised his tear-stricken face. "Your curse was far worse than mine could ever be, Tobirama. Especially because this is simply who you are at your corrupted core."
I want you to know that I almost started crying writing this...
Hashirama's words fell on deaf ears, for both of them. Izuna thought it was a sweet sentiment, a sentiment his younger brother -- Izuna's own lover -- would never share. There was no room for the Uchiha in that life, no space carved out in Tobirama's life; he ranked low on the list of priorities.
I will go out proud. I will not shame my clan, and I will not shame Madara. I am a strong Uchiha warrior. I will not show them how much this hurts.
"I don't forgive you," he whispered, knowing those words would wreckdestroymaim. Absolution was something he wasn't granting him, and the twisted part of him realized that Tobirama would live with those words forever, haunting him. He would die knowing that he killed Izuna not once but twice, and his lover didn't forgive him. He would come to the Pure Lands knowing that Izuna was there, nursing wounds that were old but never fading.
The word, kai, hung in the air, and he could feel it, feel the light inside of him, could finally feel that papery skin starting to flake away. He looked down at his hands, staring at the halo of luminance, feeling his grip with the world, with this dead body he puppeted becoming thin, loose. His strength was fading fast; he didn't have long.
Maybe it was crueler that he did have time than if he didn't.
He looked to Hashirama, face grim. "My brother is a good man," he whispered. "I don't think you can kill him, but if you have the chance, I ask that you don't. Spare him. He...deserves peace. He deserves happiness. And don't tell him I was here. It...would pain him to know that he couldn't see me himself."
Slowly, he turned back to Tobirama, and he hated it, hated looking at him, hated the way his own eyes were watering, the tears that started to slip down his flaking cheeks. Betrayal burned as much the second time as it did the first, that searing in his chest, the kind that beat against his ribs, that clutched his guts. Lips parted, closed, and parted again.
"You spoke of my curse, Tobirama," he whispered, "but you have it as much as I do. Look what you have done for what you think is love: murder, lies, breaking the laws of nature. Look at how you killed what you used to hold at night. It will never leave you; this will follow you no matter who you touch after me. It will follow you to the Pure Lands."
Those pale, glowing fists shook at his sides as he raised his tear-stricken face. "Your curse was far worse than mine could ever be, Tobirama. Especially because this is simply who you are at your corrupted core."