fanfiction.lol^{fun, silly, low-stakes fandom}

Chapter Text

“And this marks the day of my greatest failure,” Hiro declared. “Haunt me no longer, my love! I shall rejoin you in death!” And with that, he turned the sword inwards, plunging it into his breast and falling dramatically onto the wooden ground below.

There was a long silence, then darkness. Then the lights came back on, the cast returning to the stage to take their bows.

“Wooo!” Sakura cheered, leaping to her feet. “Bravo! Bravo! Bravissimo!” Naruto clapped loudly alongside her, tears in his eyes.

Sasuke folded his arms. “…That was terrible.”

He hadn’t been able to make out more than half the words, the singing had been horribly off-tune, and everything had seemed over-acted and unnaturally expressive. Why the other two were applauding as if it was the best thing they had ever seen was beyond him.

“It was sad!” Naruto wailed. “She loved him and he betrayed her! You don’t do that to someone who loves you, believe it!”

Sasuke believed it. He just hadn’t needed some stupid, ancient romantic tragedy to tell him that.

“The acting was bad,” he huffed.

Sakura was still clapping. She looked over her shoulder at him. “They’re only a small company,” she defended. “And it’s good to support our local theatres! They’ll still be good enough for our purposes anyway.”

Sasuke glanced around pointedly. Towards the back, a small handful of people were already making their way out the door. Apart from another two couples and a family of three, they were the only ones left in the theatre.

Even the word theatre was stretching it. Sasuke would have described it as a dark basement, a wooden platform, and some folding chairs. And that was putting it generously.

“Thank you so much for coming!” Hiro’s actor called, stepping back up onto the stage. “We greatly appreciate all your support, and look forward to putting on more shows for you! We’re a small company and there are a lot of fees associated with these productions, so if anyone would like to make a donation, all of our cast members have baskets here for anything you’d be willing to give. Thanks again, and we really appreciate all of your support and donations.”

Some of the audience members started moving a bit faster. Sasuke remained in his seat.

“So they’re poor,” he said flatly.

“Which is a good thing for us!” Sakura reminded him. She clapped her hands together. “Alright, let’s go hire a cast!” Turning away, she started towards the stage, humming cheerily under her breath. “Man, I love having rich friends.”

Sasuke hesitated, but then exhaled sharply and hurried after her. Sakura had already approached the lead actor with quick, confident steps.

“Hello! You said you were looking for donations?”

The actor's expression shifted, robes rustling as he bent down slightly towards them. “Oh, hello! You three are adorable! Did you enjoy the play?”

Sasuke frowned. He didn’t want to talk about the play. He cut straight to the point. “We want to hire you.”

“…H-hire us?”

“That’s right,” Sakura enthused. “We have a new script for an extremely pressing play. One that must be produced! For the good of humanity, really. And of course, we’re more than willing to compensate you.”

The actor’s smile twitched, a mixture of bafflement and dismissal. “How old are you three? Are your parents around here somewhere?”

“Sasuke, show him the cash,” Sakura ordered.

Blank-faced, Sasuke slid open his robe the slightest bit, just enough to flash one of his stacks of cash before closing it again.

“See, see!” Naruto jeered. “You haf’ta listen to us now!”

The man’s eyes were nearly as wide as the evil, alien moon. “W-what’s the play?” He stammered.

“Hashirama the Musical,” Sakura declared.

“Hashirama the Musical?” The actor exclaimed, which was about the same reaction Sasuke had heard upon first hearing this plan.

“Uh huh.” Sakura grinned with all her teeth, and all of a sudden Sasuke was struck with the sudden insight that he had made an excellent decision in aligning himself with her side rather than against it.

“Don’t worry! Soon enough, the whole world’s gonna know our name.”

—

“I don’t get it,” Naruto whined from their lazy sprawls back in the open sunlight. “Why’d you say it had to end like that? I don’t get how it’s gonna help make people like Sasuke’s family more.”

“It’s because of yaoi,” Sakura said. Her eyes were wise and knowing.

“What’s yaoi?”

Sakura waved a hand. “It’s… how do I put this? Basically, it’s boys' love. Things about boys loving boys.”

“Oh.” Naruto scrunched his nose, before suddenly sitting bolt upright. “Wait a second! Hashirama the Musical’s about Hashirama and Madara being in love?”

Sasuke jerked his head towards Sakura as well, staring at her with wide, horrified eyes.

Sakura shook her head. “You don’t know it yet, but you’ll see,” she intoned. “The force of yaoi is great and powerful. The power of ship wars and sexy man kinning can shape entire nations.”

“None of that made any sense,” Sasuke complained.

“Hm.” Sakura tapped her fingers together. “Okay. How about this? To put it simply, right now, the Uchiha clan has a negative reputation. People think of them as arrogant, untrustworthy, and rude. They’re known for their deadliness and for only caring about themselves.”

Sasuke scowled. “It’s not fair,” he said sullenly.

“It’s not! Which is why we’re basically giving them a brand makeover! When we’re done, everyone will associate you with good things, things that they like! And then boom!” She snapped her fingers. “Problems solved! Well, one problem solved, at least.”

“But how does yaoi make people like them?” Naruto demanded again. “Huh? Huh?”

“Just trust me, okay?” Sakura said. She said that a lot. It wasn’t always particularly convincing. “It’s one of those things that’s just weird but true. In order to get people to care, we have to get them emotionally invested. And whether we like it or not, nothing gets people more emotionally invested than hot, complicated men with tragic backstories.”

Sasuke squinted at her. He wasn’t sure if he liked this plan, but he couldn’t deny the power of fangirls.

“So we’re putting it on during the festival.”

“That’s right!” Sakura exclaimed. “We’re celebrating Konoha’s founding, so that way we can say we’re being all patriotic. It is Hashirama the Musical, after all. And we won’t even make too much of it up! It’ll just be… artistic liberties.”

“Making it yaoi is making stuff up,” Sasuke grumbled.

“I’ll just imply it,” Sakura assured them. “Emphasize the tragedy, make it more star-crossed friends from warring families… Then if we add in the emotional constipation and tsundere-ness, the audience will do the rest.”

“Hn.”

“It’s all good, I’ve got the script mostly written already! The hard part is adapting all the songs… ugh. But it’s fine. Our job is mostly to handle the advertising.”

“Advertising? What do we gotta do?” Naruto inquired, squirming up from the grass.

“Well, first we have to get permission to put it on somewhere where it will attract more viewers. Naruto, I was kinda hoping you could talk to the Hokage about this one…?” Sakura smiled hopefully in his direction.

“You need me to ask Jiji?” Naruto scratched his head, before giving a big thumbs up. “I can do that, believe it! You can count on me!”

Sakura grabbed his hands excitedly. “Great, that's perfect! Okay, now we just need to make sure people come. Have you guys ever made posters before?”

—

Itachi was just returning home for a brief break before his next mission when he spotted the large paper pinned to the side of the compound wall. It was black and gold, with the image of a large tree in the background, and what looked to be the figure of the Shodaime dramatically posed at the front.

…That hadn’t been there the other day.

He scanned over the large text printed at the bottom. Hashirama: A Konohan Musical, it said. And then, watch at the Festival of Konoha’s Founding.

This was new. Itachi had never seen something like this before. That being said, he had never been overly invested in these sorts of things. He idly wondered who had bothered to come put it up on the Uchiha compound walls, then put it out of his mind as he continued walking home.

From down the street came a familiar head of fluffy hair, and Itachi felt that sudden rush of guilt that always hit him whenever his little brother came into sight.

Itachi slowed, trying for an apologetic smile. “Hello, otouto. I’m sorry, I know I promised to train with you, but—”

Sasuke brushed past him, with a rushed, “sorry, nii-san! Next time!” He hurried out of the gates, papers fluttering in his wake.

“…it’ll have to be next time…”

Itachi's eyes continued to follow Sasuke as his little brother ran off without a single glance back. This too was a new development. And although Itachi wasn’t always home, he couldn’t help but get the feeling that Sasuke had been acting a lot… odder recently.

…Had that been a stack of black and gold papers tucked beneath his arm?

—

“Longer eye contact!” Sakura demanded. “More passion! More tension!”

The Izuna actor dropped his prop sword. The Tobirama actor ran a hand through his white wig wearily.

“Kid, aren’t you like, seven?”

—

Hashirama lay on his bed, hand stretched out towards the sky. “And through the bloodshed, we still are brothers,” he sang. “For the peace that I seek lies with you…”

“Angle,” the director barked. “Prop yourself up more. The audience needs to see your face. Let’s run that through one more time!”

—

“More blood,” Sasuke suggested, eyes narrowed as he examined Izuna’s position being run through with Tobirama’s sword. “Gut wounds bleed more than that.”

“Adjust the lighting!” Sakura called. “Make it as dramatic as possible!”

“Add more sounds,” Naruto chimed in. “Like woosh! Slash! Swchp! ‘Cause it’s supposed to be a cool sword fight!”

The director sighed, long and loud. “Yes, thank you for the suggestions from our patrons.”

—

“My brother gone,” Madara rumbled. “Something has changed within me. His final words, and with them he decreed… that we must not trust those who’ve ripped us apart. Yet if I had only from the start, I could have saved my family.”

He whipped around, glorious mane flying out behind him. “I take no joy, though I shed no tears. I’ll see this through, allay my fears. We’ll be at peace, no more needless loss. But my soul has cracked from this terrible cost.”

It still didn’t get any less weird to see Madara singing. Sasuke followed along with the lyrics and tried his best to pretend not to hear Naruto sniffling again.

—

Sakura shook the script pages aggressively. “He’s been driven out of his mind by the loss of his brother. He’s mad with grief! He loves his friend, and he once dreamed of Konoha’s founding, but Izuna’s death cost him so much. He lies awake at night plagued with guilt at making peace with his killer. That’s what spurs the final battle on!”

“Okay, okay.” Madara’s actor adjusted his costume uncomfortably, armour plates rattling. “I got it.”

“The battle is a last ditch attempt at dealing with the conflict inside of him,” Sakura emphasized. “He’s not expecting to win it. He just wants to make sense of the world, and to make Hashirama understand.”

“Thank you, Sakura-chan,” the director said again. His tone indicated that he was now far too used to receiving this sort of advice. “Let’s try the next song now.”

—

“I see it now,” Madara rasped. “That dream we once shared… I can finally see it again.”

“My friend,” Hashirama said, voice thick. “Save your breath.”

“When we were just boys… by the river, our dream took shape. We called it… Konohagakure.”

“And we made it real. Konohagakure stands today. Because of us. Because of you.”

“… I tried to destroy it.”

“But you didn’t. Shush— it’s not too late! Let me heal you!”

“No. My people and yours— they stand together, hand in hand. As one. As Konoha. Please, if I can ask for anything… do not let my mistakes destroy that.”

“Never. This is what I fought for. This is what Konoha was founded on. Peace for our families. Peace for our children. We will stand united forevermore.”

“…Good.”

“My friend?”

“…”

“…Madara?”

“H-Hashirama…”

Madara’s head fell back, and for just a moment, all went silent. Then the shakuhachi flute began to play its mournful solo.

—

The morning of Konohagakure’s Founding Day, Kakashi was just getting home from a week-long mission. He was in his usual state: chakra-depleted, sleep-deprived, and feeling like death. Which was why the sudden shock of a hundred cheering civilians hitting his sensitive ears was particularly unpleasant.

…Unfortunately, if he wanted to escape and go crash in his apartment, he needed to go through the square.

The cheers were dying down, but the noise only got louder the closer he approached. There was music playing, and the stomping of a dozen feet impacting in coordination against a wood floor.

“Senju Hashira-a-ma!” A chorus sang out. “Konoha sings for you!”

Rounding the corner, Kakashi was greeted by the sight of a gathered crowd of civilians and shinobi alike, avidly watching what could only be someone’s best interpretation of the Shodaime and Uchiha Madara dramatically posed in combat.

The word slipped out from his lips without conscious thought.

“…Why.”

“The songs are surprisingly catchy,” a voice called out. Genma was sprawled out on the rooftop above, alongside Raidou, who gave him a lazy wave. “Hey Hatake, you should stay and check it out! We’ve still got act two to go.”

Kakashi eyed the scene. The Madara figure made some sort of child’s attempt at a handsign. Red lights flashed across the backdrop behind him.

“I think I’m good, thanks,” he said flatly.

Genma shrugged. “Suit yourself. It’s been pretty entertaining though.”

Kakashi cast one last glance around. From the curtains behind the stage, he caught a glimpse of too-gleeful eyes and an unpleasantly familiar head of pink hair.

Could it be…?

If there was one group of people he didn’t want to run into, it was the Uchiha Clan Head’s son, the encapsulation of all his mistakes, and the head menace herself. He had successfully avoided thinking about them for the past several days. He had no intention of breaking his streak now.

He had tried retrieving his book, but it had quickly become clear that they were stashed somewhere inside the Uchiha Compound itself. And while Kakashi was all kinds of audacious, he had enough history with the Uchiha Clan already. Even he wasn’t going to try pulling off a heist.

So he’d get back at them. Eventually.

Just not quite yet.

On stage, Tobirama and Madara had started insulting each other during a council meeting in song form.

And… yep. That was his cue to call it a day.