I dunno what's with me these days. Writing xovers drabbles after drabbles. ~_____~ Anyway, I hope u enjoy this one. Pls tell me ur opinions & ideas b'coz i sincerely dunno where this is going. But I just wanted to share this little plotbunny. I'm open to any suggestions. Sankyuu.

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Nyada. Nyada. Nyada. Happy?

Pairings: Harry/Tobirama?, Harry/Madara?, Harry/ (Does anyone know what is Madara's brother's name?)

Background: Harry won the last battle with Voldie, but with a heavy price. All friends & family dead, he went to meet Voldie for the last time only to be caught in a magical backlash that sent him into a world entirely different from his own. Or is it?

Meeting

Harry trudged through the mud, ignoring the raindrops that kept dripping into his eyes. They clung to his long lashes persistently before succumbing to the pull of gravity, trickling down his cheeks before falling onto the ground like his own tears.

Tears, that he could no longer shed.

/Get back! Look out, Harry!/

No. Please not them.

/Stay alive/

NO. NO.

/Live/

I don't want to.

/For all those who have sacrificed themselves/

Please don't...

/For all those who love you/

Don't ask this of me...

/For all of us.../

No, don't die. Don't leave me...

/Please live./

...Don't leave me alone.

Not again.

-------------------

He didn't know where he was. How he got here. Why he was here. He didn't know and he didn't care.

All he knew was that this was not home.

Home... did not exist anymore.

Miles and miles, all that existed were trees. Green trees, thriving and lush, covered everything he saw.

Such a difference from the place that was once the wizarding world.

For all that was left after the war was carnage, burnt homes, ruins and what was left of his friends and family.

Dead.

All dead.

"Halt! Who's there?"

Harry was jolted from his overpowering thoughts. He looked up to stare at the figure perched upon a branch on the tall tree before him. This was the first time in days that he've met another human being since he woke up alone in the middle of nowhere.

Senju Tobirama felt his breath hitched as bright emerald eyes captured his.

When he left Konohagakure to patrol over the western areas of the newly-formed village, he had not expected to find this forlorn figure wandering aimlessly in the forest. A small being that can only be described as petite, the boy (for he looked no more than 16) had unruly hair the colour of the night sky. He looked as if he hadn't eaten for days. He also had the appearance of a victim of war. There was no mistaking the haunted look on his face.

But the moment the 'boy' lifted his head at the shinobi's question, Tobirama knew that he was wrong. This was no mere boy. His eyes, for one thing, looked far too old for a teenager. But then again, war makes one grow faster. For a brief moment, Tobirama wondered if the dark-haired young man was a shinobi. Judging from the way he just stood there without falling into a stance, there was a possibility that he wasn't one.

He waited for an answer but when none came, he frowned. He opened his mouth to demand a name when the boy spoke. Tobirama blinked unsure if he had heard wrongly.

"What?"

"I don't know," the boy said again, clearly this time though still soft.

"I don't know who I am anymore."

Tsudzuku-------------------

Should I continue this? If I should, give me some oil to get this baby going! ^___^