Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of the characters.

Something I thought of after cleaning my room, weird right?

Told in a more story format if anything else.

Madara's POV

I always figured that my father never really loved my mother. Many times I had seen him leave and come back days later smelling of someone else. A different woman who smelt of kindness and lilac.

This had been going on ever since I was born.

I would watch as my mother seethed in silence from hate and jealousy and eventually take her anger out on the help and the maids. Father had told me one day that he had once cared for my mother, but the woman never would accept any less from him and forced him into marriage. Mother never paid much attention to me, though I was really the reason my father stayed with her. What had meant to be a quick fling had turned into a pregnancy for my mother. She had fallen hard and threatened to abort me if he did not marry and support her. She had been too absorbed at keeping my father to really care or love me like a mother should. Not that I cared, she was so bitter and hateful and even I began to encourage my father to leave and meet with this mystery woman whom he truly treasured. I never asked of his business or who she was, only if he loved her enough to make my mother hate her so much. It was one day that I saw my father with a deep frown and sad eyes that I asked him what was wrong. He had told me that his love had died, a sickness. I understood now why he had begun to stay away longer and longer, to comfort her as she left this world. My mother of course was overjoyed. She had her husband back from this nameless woman. She was not overjoyed though when my father . . . Brought home the evidence of this sixteen-year affair.

A son.

And my new little brother . . .

Izuna Uchiha.

I was surprised at how much we truly looked alike despite us being created in two different wombs. Father had brought him home and told everyone in the compound that he would be living here from now on. My mother was enraged, not wanting to keep the evidence of my father's shame around. People would talk, whisper and insult and my mother treasured her position as head wife all too much. I watched as Izuna hid behind my father as he yelled at her and threatened to divorce her should she ever speak out again. My mother reluctantly obeyed before running from the room in a fit of shame filled tears.

I didn't feel sorry for her.

My eyes were all for Izuna as he looked my way. His hair was smooth and framed his oval face perfectly. He was slender like a girl but that only made me more curious of him. Did he resemble this woman my father loved so much? Was he the form of the woman of my father's dreams and many passion filled nights? He looked at me in fear as if I would explode like his new stepmother. Instead I smiled as father pushed the boy toward me, giving words of encouragement to him. I held out my hand and introduced myself.

Madara Uchiha.

He smiled shyly at me and I knew . . . I knew . . .

That I had fallen deeply in love.

I was three years older than him. I had rough shaggy hair that framed my inherited hard face. I stood at least a foot taller with broad shoulders and intimidating eyes. I smiled at him and he in turn blushed, a beautiful color of pink that I had ever seen coat a human face. He took my hand and it took all my self control not to pull him into my arms and kiss away all his fears.

That would come later.

The tension was thick in the household. Maids whispered behind our backs, calling us shameful and disgusting. They called my father a pervert and my mother a shameful witch for letting another woman's son enter the house hold. I ignored them and kept my new brother away from such chatter. When my father heard of any rumors, he would quickly punish any and all who dared speak against the Uchiha.

I never let Izuna come near my mother, I knew she would hurt him should I let them be alone. Father was also wary of her, locking her in her room when her fits became unbearable to hear. Izuna would get scared and run to me when she screamed at him, calling him a home wrecker and a disease.

Calling him an abomination and how much she wished his mother had died sooner!

I loved Izuna, and I didn't care he was the cause of my mother's misery. We spent almost every day together, talking, reading, taking walks to the river and throwing stones. He told me stories of him growing up, how happy his mother was when my father came back to her. I would smile when he seemed afraid to talk of the affair. I was just happy to have a brother, someone to talk to and spend time with. I fell harder for him at the way he would look at me, talk to me and treat me as an equal. I adored the way he laughed and smiled as he walked together back to the house.

Days went by as Izuna grew more comfortable with me and even sought out my presence. Father was overjoyed at how both his children got along and encouraged us more and more to be together as brothers. Izuna began to act coy around me at time. Our hands would occasionally or accidently brush together at meals, causing him and I to blush. I would catch him staring at me when he thought I wasn't looking and quickly look away. Deep in my heart I hoped Izuna had discovered my love for him and would return it.

It was one night on Izuna's birthday that I took him to the riverbank. The moon was full and my heart was aching to tell him how I felt. He seemed happy as I walked beside him, humming softly and smiling at me as our eyes met. I could take no more as I grabbed his arm and spun him around. He seemed surprised but willing as I stepped up to him and embraced him.

I kissed him.

It was the most amazing sensation I had ever felt. Liquid fire coated my veins as I held him. I held his shaking frame as he kissed me and let our passion seep into our breaths. He moaned, a sound so gorgeous it captivated me and lit a blaze deep inside of me. I wasted not a second as I pulled him back to the house, into my room, shutting and locking the door behind us. I was bigger than him and I buried both our bodies into my bed sheets. I shed his clothing and his shyness and I spread his legs, intent on making him never want to leave our bed. I moved swiftly but firm as our bodies collided, his soft and mine hard. He looked at me with this desperation that called out to me. I kissed him as my hands roamed his frame, tracing skin and muscle as he cried out and begged.

I wanted him so much.

And I did have him . . . Over and over again that night.

We were both virgins. We didn't care. We gave into desire and each other as I slid inside and rocked into swiftly. He pleaded to the ceiling as I moved inside him, holding him down and making his hips quiver in ecstasy. His legs spread wider, I grew harder at the sight of pure bliss in his eyes. He called to me, burying his fingers in my hair. We both came quickly, to inexperience in the art of pleasure and sex. I laid there, still inside him as I whispered the words I had been dying to tell him since I laid eyes on him.

I told him that I loved him.

We would spend years doing this ritual over and over. Ten summers had passed and my love for Izuna grew and grew. It was almost every night I snuck to his bed and ravished him. I made him cry out to the heavens over and over until both of us passed out from bliss. We were always with each other, never going any more than mere hours before we needed to be reunited.

My mother's hate had never subsided. Father amazingly never took another mistress. I figured Izuna's mother must have truly been his love for him to never seek another woman. My mother had gone almost senile. She talked to herself and even started hitting some of the maids in her anger. I would often come between her and Izuna if she ever looked at him wrong or dared make a move toward him. Father had plans for divorce soon after, not being able to take my mother's fits anymore. Divorce for a noble was hard, one needed a good reason in order for the wife's family to take back the given bride. My father declared her insane and immediately made plans to remove her.

She exploded.

I had to run a quick errand for father one day when my mother decided to pay Izuna a visit in his room. I heard the screams of my beloved as I ran to his room. My mother stood crazed above him, her eyes nearly popping from her skull. Izuna lay on the floor, clutching a bleeding wound on his stomach. My heart jolted at the blood and the look of horror and pain on his face. All I could see was Izuna, his suffering and how much I hated my mother. The woman turned toward me and wielding a knife she pointed it at me. She ranted and raved about being shamed but I ignored her.

Just the thought of losing Izuna made me want to die.

Without thinking I ran at her. She seemed surprised that I would turn against her. I wrestled the knife away with some cuts to my face and arms. Izuna called my name as I pushed my mother to the floor and put the knife straight into her heart.

I killed her.

Her dying breaths were laboring as I coated Izuna's floor in her blood. She looked at me with so much hate that I only decided to glare back at the woman who only bore, but never loved me like a true mother would. She lay dead as I hurried to Izuna and took him to a doctor. Father returned to a silent home and a dead wife. I explained everything to him, not leaving out a detail. Izuna lay resting in my room, I was prepared to pay the price should one come.

I received none.

Father was saddened of course but he mostly blamed himself. He had tried to love my mother, but forced love was heavy to bear. He told me to go to my room and look after Izuna as he talked with the authorities. Izuna was so pale as I held his hand. He would survive, I would make sure. He looked at me with sadness, an emotion that did not deter my love for him. He asked me if I hated him for making me stab my mother. I shook my head and told him that I didn't care.

Izuna was my love, a love made just for me.