A bit dark, just thoughts on what the Yondaime felt when he was sacrificing himself for his village. It couldn't have all been glorious right?
I dunno, I've thought on this idea for a while, and no matter how hard I try and write this, it still doesn't seem right.
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

He could feel it. That pressure in the air, slowing him down, weighing him down with tiny hands – don't don't don't- but he carries on, because he knows that if he can't, no one will. And it all seems like a sick joke, as he stares at the baby cradled in his arms, looking at him so trustingly, he, the one who will betray him the most, and he feels that lump in his throat of a heart torn asunder as he leaves the hospital room, turning his back on the shell of a woman who he had loved.

He walks blindly, feet guiding him to the place where his heart longs to be away from –don't don't don't- because he has to do it, because it's his duty. He walks along this path, this path that will lead to his death and- He feels numb, terrifyingly so and he takes a sudden intake of breath –is this it is this how I'm going to die I don't want to I don't want to- before steadying himself. He feels the weight of the knowledge on his mind, complex symbols written into his mind with burning hot emotions and hand seals, countless and countless hand seals that he has trained his suddenly stiff and numb fingers to learn, over and over until he feels sick and has to stop because it all becomes too much and he knows oh he knows that he is going to…

They look at him as he passes, eyes shining with hope for this figure who was always their shining leader and he feels a bitter stab of resentment that burns in his eyes –it's all your fault all your fault I don't want to I don't want to- before the overwhelming love crashes upon his aching soul (I love you I love you I love you all) and breaks it apart, flushing the pieces out into the sky and he smiles at them, hating every moment that his heart loves them. His cloak billows as he leaves them behind, words distorted ("Yondaime"…"Hokage"… "Saviour" "Saviour!") but all the words seem to sound like death to him as he wades through the terror and fear that grip his village (his his all his).

Hands flash and a massive toad appears, a ragged cheer arising from the crowd behind him (cheering for his death his death, God his death) and he jumps on, fleeting eye contact with the toad expressing more than can ever be expressed with simple words and gratification (oh the endless gratification and memories of sake ceremonies and glorious battles) and then the terrifying rush of resentment (why are you carrying me to my death why why why). They ride off to the battlegrounds, the sky dyed red from the overwhelming fear that appears from the beast that is suddenly in front of him and he can feel it feel it! Washing over him in tidal waves of absolute monstrosity and there is a rushing in his ears as he gazes down at his people (so small, so tiny, so insignificant) who wave their arms in ecstasy that he, he has come to save them!

He tastes the need for kill in the air, swallows lungfuls of rage as he boils in the air awash with fire. His basic instincts are telling him to run run run, anywhere that is away from this monster! To safety safety SAFETY! But he pushes it down, screaming at himself that he loves this village LOVES this village LOVES THIS VILLAGE! Something is slipping down his cheek and the beast is suddenly blurring in front of him as the voice of instinct finally dies out, stabbed by the vicious weapons of love and self sacrifice.

He stares eye to eye with the monster who has wrecked everything (for him for his love for his son God his son but he will live at least whilst he dies dies DIES), whose slitted pupil splits his mind in two as he shrieks out his terror to free himself from that unfreeable gaze that will surely destroy him and the shrieks turn to anger filled silent screams as he throws away his mind his soul his heart his body and leaves only the knowledge of those complex symbols written into his mind with burning hot emotions and hand seals, countless and countless hand seals that he has trained his suddenly stiff and numb fingers to learn, over and over until he feels sick and has to stop because it all becomes too much, but this time he cannot stop, cannot step away from that sickening feeling as he holds his son stiffly in the crook of his elbows so that he can make those damn blasted stupid hand seals who will so beautifully graciously save his village (and then it will all be worth it).

The demon rages as it realises what he is doing, but cannot move as he stares it down, vicious glee in his mind as those hand seals blur faster and faster till they are flashing through them like lightning lashing through a butterfly's last flight. And he chances a glance at his son whose blond hair is so like his own and whose blue eyes are so like his own and it suddenly reaches his distant mind that he will never see his first smile first step first anything EVERYTHING but he cannot stop his hands that are still blurring faster and faster until his hands ache and the tears are streaming down his face and then they rest still, as the world seems to stop, his mouth opening and closing in a silent shout of words that he can no longer understand, because-

He feels it. It is terrifyingly raw, a seeping coldness that covers him in its needled blanket, and the world seems darker, greyer, colder. But he will save them, he will he will! Because who is he but the valiant fighter trying to protect his village? (a grieving lover perhaps or a terrible father or an idiot who doesn't know what he's doing but he knows he knows!) The chill on his back seeps further, into him, taking over the warmth that still lingers upon his face as a last kiss of goodbye- and he sees it, a hand, a hand bursting from his gut, cold as ice and insubstantial as time but it's there it's there! And he feels blood welling from corrupted organs as he hacks up foam that bubbles from his lungs, stained with his blood.

He watches it reach for the Kyuubi's soul with immeasurable joy and fear fear fear and he sees their souls meld, forever stuck together in a dreadful embrace, boiling bubbling red singing his cool blue as it hisses and attacks, rearing as it sinks claws into it's insubstantial body, it doesn't want to go! NO! He screams, he rages, he pours every single ounce of will that can be left over in his dratted stupid body that he can! He wrings himself out like a sponge, twists himself to squeeze out that last ounce of stupid stupid DETERMINATION! And he laughs to himself how brilliant it would be if his son could develop his determination to survive and cling on with shredded nails (because he knew oh how terribly he knew what he was wrecking upon his son) to life!

And before he knows it the red is in front of him, forced bubbling into the seal (complex symbols written into his mind with burning hot emotions and- and-) on his son's stomach as he screams in pain, skin raw from the devil's essence and soul being pushed upon his frail body and mind. He watches with growing sickness as he watches the black whisker marks meld themselves into the young flesh, dragging like claws, drawing blood and howls from the young one (and vaguely he ponders that really, he's watching his son get his first battle scars here) as the boiling red enters his son.

He watches the end of the trailing red move closer with sickly satisfaction, watches the mighty body of the Kyuubi (he had beaten it he had beaten it!) crumble into dust that falls onto the ground, smooth as silk as it flows into uneven piles. And then it hits him, as the trailing ends of boiling red move closer, that once the sealing is finished, he will die. He will die. He will die. No, not die, something far worse than death, eternal sleep in the Shinigami's stomach and he can feel the wretched smile on the death god's face as his soul leaves him and he desperately tries to cling on. No NO! He can't deserve this he just saved the village (by sacrificing himself) and, and he has so much to live for! He has a son, his darling son (who he betrayed so badly so badly it hurt) and a village who he had to look after, a village which he loved, a village which he loved so much so HARD that he was sacrificing himself and his boy to a life of torture. And fear wells up in him as he struggles weakly, pleading cries spilling from his lips in an endless torrent of pain and tears as he feels his soul leaving his body, can see for a moment his own body, still warm, eyelids slipping shut to forever close off blue eyes that were not meant to see such battles rage and that damnable damnable DAMNABLE smile that was fixed on his face so peacefully because he had saved his village…

But he didn't want to die! Surely he deserved something else? And sheer love for his village and strength of his soul battled with the instincts of life (to preserve your own life to live to live to live…) and he was getting weaker, so much weaker, and his eyelids were shutting of his own accord… Darkness… NO! He opened them, and saw his old mentor cradling his broken body on the ground, bitter tears splashing the ground, worming themselves deep deep deep into the ground where good men do not venture but he couldn't match any sounds to the man's open wailing mouth and the fear was still there as he gazed at his song being taken away…

I don't want to go.

But darkness surrounds him and he relaxes as his hopes burst and crash upon the shore of never ending sleep which has swallowed him swallowed him swallowed him…