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raendown · 4 years

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Happy Christmas everyone! To celebrate: the first chapter of a commission for the ever excellent @writhingbeneathyou!

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 5957 Chapter: 1/5 Rated: T+ Summary: They wake in a forest far from home. Bodies lay dead and broken across the clearing. All they can remember is their names.(Madara falls in love with a single look.)

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Chapter 1

The first bit of reality to intrude itself upon him was the headache. A pounding on the inside of his skull unlike anything he would think the human body was capable of. Either his head was about to spontaneously implode or a herd of elephants had been busy stampeding over his temples while he slept.

Speaking of which, he couldn’t remember falling asleep. Or where he was. Or much of anything, really. Madara kept his eyes closed and extended his senses to the world around him, a natural action that he gave no thought to until he’d already done it and realized he couldn’t remember how he knew to do that. Something, he concluded, was very wrong. Panic threatened to rise up and overwhelm him but it was kept at bay as his senses spread and he encountered what could only be described as a center of calm.

Eyes cracking open, Madara groggily blinked at what appeared to be an open forest canopy above him, sunlight filtering through deep green leaves. When he rolled his head to the side he was met with the sight of a bemused looking man with no pigment in either his skin or his hair. The only colors on him were the red streaks painted on his face and the blue lacquer of his heavy armor. But the feeling of him. Underneath the confusion Madara could somehow feel his presence and the sensations playing against him brought to mind words like ‘ocean’ and ‘still water’ and, most oddly of all, ‘calm home’. Having the other man there calmed the anxiety and the terror of realizing he couldn’t remember a single thing except his own name and by Madara's logic that could only mean one thing.

Clearly they must know each other. Trust each other. Obviously this man was important to him somehow.

Knowing the unstable emotions he himself was experiencing, he decided it would probably be best to wait and see if his companion was going through something similar. If they were both panicking then making sudden movements wouldn’t help anything. He rather hoped the other did know what going on, though. It would be nice to find out what they were doing that led them here and where they were supposed to go now. Where was home?

Waiting turned out to be a good choice. As was the decision to remain prone on the ground as he had been when he awoke. If he’d been standing then he wasn’t sure his knees would not have buckled out from underneath him when the man at his side turned and hit him with a doe eyed look, red irises sparkling in the dappled sunlight. Heart thundering in his chest, Madara blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“I think I love you.”

“Ah?”

“Shit, I mean, hi? Do you know where we are? Do you know who we are?”

The man blinked slowly and tilted his head to one side like a confused animal. “No. To both questions. We appear to be in a forest and I feel no hostility at your presence so my first guess would be that we know each other but that’s as much information as I have.” His head lifted to tilt in the other direction. “Do you feel romantically towards me? Perhaps there’s a reason we’re here together.”

He didn’t seem to be panicking the way Madara was. Lucky.

“I feel…attraction. And distress. Not knowing where or who I am isn’t really ideal but I feel like I’m safer with you here. Is that weird?”

“Not if I feel the same, I suppose. Explaining why would be difficult but there is a certain reassurance in your presence. Your…hm. I can’t seem to recall the word for it. The feel of you even though we’re not physically touching.” His companion twisted pale lips from side to side in thought and Madara had to force himself to look away from the movement.

“You feel like cool waters,” he offered, puffing his chest out slightly to receive a pleased look for his efforts.

“Then you understand what I’m talking about, yes. I would describe your presence as smoke and heat with an undercurrent of something sharp. Like the tang of copper on my tongue but more pleasant. Words really do not do it justice.”

Madara hummed with amusement. “How poetic.” Then he grinned when the other man scowled a little.

“Oh shut up.”

Such a transaction between them felt completely natural. Maybe that was how they flirted with each other? It certainly felt like flirting, what with the way the other had turned his head away only to peek back with the echoes of a smile forming at the edge of his lips. His mouth was almost as pretty as his eyes. Madara allowed his gaze to linger there for a few moments, happy that his original assumption of some relationship between them seemed more and more to be true, but eventually he dragged his attention away to focus on other things.

A quick scan told him that the clearing they had woken in was not quite the pristine, undisturbed utopia that he’d gotten a first impression of from staring up at the canopy. The ground close by had been torn up by what could only be human intervention and several of the nearby trees were marked with missing chunks of bark or suspicious stains. Most telling, however, were the bodies. Or rather he should say his reaction to the bodies was the most telling. Several men and women scattered the far side of the clearing in various states of maiming, a few of them charred to a crisp and others removed from certain body parts. Yet here he sat surveying the damage with no bile in his throat, no distaste for the macabre tableau before him, only a very enveloping sort of calm and a vague hope that he had been the cause of so much damage. Whoever did all this must have had fun.

“Do you think there’s any clues to be found here about who we are?” he asked.

“If it helps, I believe my name is Tobi. No…Tobirama.”

“Tobirama.” Madara rolled the name around a few times. “I like the sound of that; you do look like a Tobirama. Mine is Madara, I think.”

A quick once over of his own body revealed very little in the way of identification, though it did reveal that he was wearing a headband with the same symbol etched in to it as the happuri Tobirama was wearing. Yet another sign that they were connected in some way or at least part of a group together. It was nice to know he belonged somewhere.

Having traded names and found no other identification on themselves the two set about exploring the carnage around them. Bodies were turned over, dismembered heads were rolled closer to the epicenter, and pockets were rifled through. They found a lot of interesting tidbits yet at the end of it all Madara couldn’t say he knew any more about what happened than he had when he sat up and looked at the scene for the first time. Or maybe the second time. Clearly if he’d woken up here then he must have passed out here at some point so he probably saw this all happen even if he didn’t remember it right now. Hopefully he would soon.

With no idea where they had come from the next thing to do was decide where to go, made harder by the fact that they had no idea either where they were or what direction they might find some sort of town in. After a quick debate Tobirama mentioned that he was pretty sure he could feel a large collection of other presences off to the east so, without any better options, they headed that way. It took a couple hours but eventually Madara too was able to feel the massive collection of other ‘people sensations’ as he had dubbed them in his head. Even if no one there knew them maybe someone could explain how the hell he was feeling where people were without being able to see them.

The town, when they finally arrived, was of no help in any of the regards he was hoping for. By the way many of the people were looking at them he had assumed someone would be able to provide an identity of some sort but their questions were all met with evasive answers and vague words about shinobi. His guess was that ‘shinobi’ meant some kind of warrior but obviously they had figured as much for themselves. The armor and the battlefield were enough hints for that.

All hope was not lost, however, as one person did manage to give them a bit of information by accident, cursing them as the ‘beasts of Konoha’ which Madara had to admit was a pretty cool moniker. He really hoped that was actually their name and not just a superstitious insult of some kind. Konoha at least gave them a point of inquiry to keep asking around and despite the many strange looks they continued to get eventually someone helpfully sketched out a map on a teahouse napkin to show them where the village was located. Tobirama held the little napkin in a firm yet careful grip as they thanked the man, both of them happy to have a name for a place that might be home.

Unfortunately the journey there was supposed to be ‘three days by their speeds’, whatever that was supposed to mean, so there was still quite a bit of time left before they found more answers. Travelling wasn’t so bad with such a captivating companion at his side but Madara did wish he could get rid of the nagging feeling at the back of his mind telling him that he was forgetting something. He was more than aware that he’d forgotten something.

He’d forgotten everything.

Still, things weren’t terrible with Tobirama there. They made easy conversation as they wandered their way through what they eventually learned was called Fire Country in direct opposition of the rains threatening them over the course of their entire journey. Thankfully the deluge managed to hold itself in check until they found an inn on the second day, at which point it came pouring down from the sky as though the gods were angry and this their chosen vengeance. Scowling out through the window, hoping this stupid weather was over by the time they set out tomorrow, Madara thought to himself that it was a fairly effective vengeance. Water could be dangerous. Obviously he couldn’t think of any specific reason for him to think that but it was a knowledge he felt deep in his bones.

“Oh.” A soft exclamation from behind drew his attention probably faster than a loud shout would have. Madara spun to find Tobirama with his eyes wide and his hands out in front of him bearing a small mountain of scrolls that he could swear had not been in the room before.

“Where did you get those?” he asked.

“From my arm.”

Madara blinked. “What?”

“This tattoo here on my wrist.” Tobirama nodded vaguely in the direction of his left hand. “It doesn’t match the rest of the markings on my body so I was tracing it and it felt like there was some energy coming from it. What else was I supposed to do? I tried to imitate the energy. Then suddenly I’m holding an armful of scrolls that- I swear they just popped in to existence!”

“I believe you. I just…can’t believe you.” He shrugged when Tobirama gave him an exasperated look, unsure how else to phrase it.

So far Tobirama hadn’t shown himself to be the lying sort but there was an undeniably fantastical element to the idea that scrolls – or anything really – could just poof themselves in to existence. To make up for his lack of faith he moved over to help set all the scrolls down so they could sort through the mess and figure out what extra madness they had just materialized. From thin air. As one does.

Madara couldn’t say whether it was normal or not so he elected not to get all worked up about it.

For the most part each of the scrolls were fairly identical with only minor differences. A few of them had actual writing covering the parchment but the rest all depicted the same large sprawling pattern of concentric circles and kanji that didn’t seem connected to each other in any significant way. What differentiated them was the small list in the bottom left corner of each scroll. One list contained toiletry items, another listed all the necessities for camping out in the woods, and yet another contained a list of foods that Madara's empty stomach would have appreciated very much just then. Without any money they’d been filling their bellies with whatever edible flora they happened across on their journey. Ironically money was listed on one of the scrolls as well.

“Wish we could make this shit poof in to existence as well,” he grumbled to himself, rereading the food list and listening to his stomach growl. Tobirama lifted the scroll in his own hands and squinted at the design.

“This looks remarkably similar to the design on my wrist. I wonder…”

He spread a random scroll out across the single bed they had paid for by working in the kitchen for a few hours each. Before Madara could ask him to finish his train of thought he was spreading his hand out on the design and pushing against the parchment, reaching for it in a way Madara couldn’t describe even as he felt it happening. A moment later they both cried out in surprise as an open bag of toiletries appeared in a puff of smoke, falling over to spill its contents on to the threadbare covers.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” Tobirama admitted. “Although in retrospect I realize that I should have been.”

“TOOTHPASTE!” Awe and mystery dissipated like smoke in favor of snatching up the small white tube of heaven and darting in to the bathroom. There was no telling which of those toothbrushes had been his own but Madara didn’t care. He had ten perfectly healthy fingers to rub the paste across his teeth, cleaning his mouth out with more than river water for the first time in days. When he came back out Tobirama was visibly trying to contain his laughter.

“Always nice to see one’s efforts appreciated,” he said.

Madara flushed. “Yeah. Thanks. That’s…a really neat trick you’ve figured out.”

“Indeed. Now that I know how to remove items from these scrolls I believe we should have access to whatever is listed in the corner of each. The only problem is that I’m not sure how to get the items back in to whatever pocket dimension they’re stored in.”

“Pocket dimension?”

His companion shrugged. “An assumption. I can’t imagine how else things could appear out of nowhere like that if they’re not stored somewhere.”

“Well maybe they exist somewhere else and that funky design just…moves them. From there to here. Like an instant transport through that pocket dimension instead of being stored inside it. Would that make sense?” Madara fought down the urge to squirm as Tobirama’s head swung around to pin him in place.

“I have never found you more attractive.”

“Uh?”

“Sorry. I don’t know where that came from. Okay I lied, I’m not sorry, you being smart is incredibly attractive and I suddenly have very little interest in experimenting with these scrolls anymore. Do you want to make out instead?”

None of the words trying to come out of his mouth seemed to be working properly so Madara settled for nodding frantically and throwing himself across the bed. It probably wasn’t his most graceful move ever but as far as his memory went this was his first kiss and Tobirama didn’t seem to mind his bumbling too much so he chose not to focus on anything other than the feeling of pale lips under his own and the sound of toiletries scattering as they were pushed off the bed. A little enthusiasm never hurt anyone.

As they had for the last couple of nights the two of them shared blankets when they went to sleep, though their rather enthusiastic kisses did not lead to anything more intimate. Madara tried not to ask himself whether they might have if they had any oil or other lubricants. That was one ‘what if’ he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to. Waking up in the morning was a slow lazy process with dark hair wrapped around their limbs and another round of slow kisses to drag them both out of dreamland and be ready for the day ahead. The more time they spent together the more it became obvious that their first instincts were right. Surely they must have been in a relationship for quite some time before whatever incident took their memories. They fit too well together for anything else to be true.

Madara wanted to preen every time he thought about it. Clearly Tobirama was a great catch and he was the one who caught the man. He wished he knew whose face to rub that in.

The stranger who sent them towards Konoha had told them it would only be a three day journey but they must have somehow been travelling much too slow since it actually ended up taking them double that to find themselves on the edge of quite an impressive looking village surrounded by thick walls and nearly overwhelming on both of their senses. The only way in without jumping those walls seemed to be through a set of massively tall gates where two soldier types were standing guard, bodies languid but their eyes alert for anything.

“You think we’re allowed in?” Madara asked from one corner of his mouth.

“Supposedly we live here,” Tobirama pointed out. “We can only be right or wrong and we won’t know which until we attempt to gain entry.”

“Right. Here goes nothing.”

Wrapping himself in as much confidence as he could muster Madara stepped out from the cover of the forest and headed straight for that much too tall gate, keeping his eyes straight ahead in an attempt to give the impression that he knew he belonged here. Tobirama’s presence just a step behind did wonders to keep him calm as they approached the guards but to his amazement none of his worrying had been necessary. One of the women nodded to him while the other lifted a hand in silent greeting. Neither of them made a move to deny entrance or even really seemed to give them a second glance. Madara felt rather like a secret infiltrator as they continued on to streets positively teeming with people from all walks of life, civilians rubbing elbows with shinobi, craftsmen sharing space with the village elite. Not one of them suspected the two pretenders who had just walked in amongst their numbers.

It took a bit of dodging to get back out of the crowds but Tobirama managed to find an opening to pull him down an alleyway so they could talk about what their next move should be. If they had been using their brains they would have discussed this beforehand but both of them had been just a little too excited to finally find a place they might call home, to find answers to the growing list of questions they had about themselves. After a long discussions laying out all the possible paths for them to take they decided together that it would probably be best for them to seek out whoever was in charge of this place. The man they spoke to in that first town had referred to them as the beasts of Konoha, which implied a certain notoriety, and that in turn meant rank. Following that logic, if they were highly ranked in this place then they should be recognizable to the ones in charge.

As it turned out, they were right. Much more right than they could have imagined.

“Tobi! Mads! Thank the ancestors!” Watching the man behind the desk stand up from his seat was like watching a tree sprout in fast motion; it was almost a surprise that he didn’t hit the ceiling when he leapt over the massive desk to hurl himself across the room in their direction. Heading for the center of the town had been a good idea. “You guys were due back a full week ago, I was so worried that something had happened!”

“Funny you should say that,” Tobirama murmured, his eyes skittering to the side to meet with Madara's. When they looked back the tree of a man in front of them was clasping both hands around thick chunks of his long brown hair.

“Oh no! What happened? Is everything okay? You both look okay! But then if you’re not injured what took so long for you to get back? Please say neither of you is hiding any injuries again because I swear I will cry on you for at least an hour!” The serious tone of voice made it clear he was not telling a joke but Madara still squinted at him to make sure he was serious. What a ridiculous threat. Yet judging by the wetness already gathering in the man’s eyes he could guess that it was a threat he was indeed prepared to follow through on.

Resisting the urge to take a step away from the oddball before them, Madara cleared his throat to take attention away from his partner, sacrificing himself instead. “No physical injuries, just a bit of, ah, mental complications.”

“I’m afraid to ask what that means…you guys weren’t fighting again were you?”

“Nothing of the sort,” Tobirama assured the man. “We’re as happy as ever.”

For whatever reason that seemed to bring him up short. A look of suspicion narrowed his wide brown eyes, darting back and forth between them, until eventually Madara couldn’t take it anymore. Something about that face demanded honesty. There was a sort of naivety there one might expect on a child and it was only compounded by the way he was still clasping both hands under his chin.

“We sort of lost our memories. Both of us. Can’t remember shit. Well, we remembered our names and we know we’re dating but that’s about it. Someone had to point us back here; couldn’t even remember where we came from.”

Considering the shocking nature of his news he could totally understand the choked spluttering, though he rather wished the man would be a little less dramatic about it. A bit of surprise was fine – hell, a lot of surprise was fine – but he would have preferred not to have the man’s spittle rain over their faces as he tried to find the words to react to their situation. Madara was rather proud of himself for keeping his temper in check until finally the choking ended.

“Yes! Dating! And names! Very good, very – ah – we should get you both to a healer!” His eyes almost seemed ready to fall out of his head as he took them both by the arm and stepped towards the door only to stop dead. “Wait, I’m a healer. Let’s sit you both down!”

“Perhaps you could start with introducing yourself?” Tobirama suggested.

“Brother! I’m your- my name is Hashirama. You’re my little brother. And Madara is my best friend!”

“All in the family then, I suppose.”

For whatever reason Tobirama’s words set off another round of spluttering but at least this time there was no spray of saliva. “Oh. Ha ha. You could say that! Hey, until we get you both a little more caught up on whatever you’ve forgotten maybe you shouldn’t talk to anyone else? You never know, erm, what you might accidentally give away to the wrong person. Since you’re both so high profile and all.”

“What could we possibly give away when we can’t remember anything?” Madara scoffed but stopped when Tobirama laid a hand on his wrist.

“No, he’s got a point. There may be information we don’t even realize we remember and a breach of security like that could be detrimental. I say we humor him.” All it took was lifting one eyebrow and he had Madara wrapped around his finger yet again, trading smiles like it was their first date.

When they looked back at Hashirama to agree with his idea he was staring at them bug-eyed.

“Right. Glad that’s…cleared up. Sit down, please, sit down. I’ll look you both over as much as I can and you can ask your questions. We might have to get a Yamanaka in here to look deeper but maybe I can help on my own.” His ushering took on a little more of a frantic feeling. Maybe he didn’t like their PDA, which Madara supposed he could understand if Tobirama really was his brother. If he had siblings he probably wouldn’t want to watch them getting fresh with someone else right there in front of him.

“Some answers would be appreciated,” he admitted as he and Tobirama sank down on to a rather squashy yellow couch. “Right now all we know is our names and yours. Catch us up a little more, the most important things we should know, that sort of thing.”

“Oh there’s lots of things you should know…”

Indeed there was. Evidently Madara really did have a brother, the last surviving of four. The village of Konoha was only three years old and he had helped build it after Hashirama and he conceived of the idea as children. Children! From warring clans! Theirs must be a particularly strong friendship to survive so many years and the enmity of their people. He was grinning smugly as the man continued filling them in on any other pertinent information such as their living situation – apparently he and Tobirama were not living together yet, an actual travesty – and their actual positions within the governing body. After covering their family situations and the fact that both of them were also technically heads of their clans Hashirama sat back with a baffled expression on his face.

Madara decided he did not like that expression. The green glow of chakra – now that Hashirama had jogged his memory on what chakra was called – faded from his hands as they dropped to fiddle with each other restlessly in his lap.

“I don’t know what to say,” he admitted. “We might have to get a Yamanaka to check you guys out after all because I just can’t find anything wrong. None of your neural pathways are misfiring, there’s no injury in the area, so as far as I can see there’s no reason for either of you to have lost your memories.”

“How comforting,” Tobirama murmured.

“Yeah, just what I need. Another stranger poking around in my head.” Madara instantly felt a flash of guilt when Hashirama crumpled, though he refused to let it show on his face.

“But I’m not a stranger, not to either of you!”

Leaning a little closer to his partner, Madara grunted. “Best friends, yes, I heard you. I just don’t remember right now and it’s a really freaky experience. Imagine not even knowing you had siblings? Or that three of them were already in the ground? I’m sure that devastated me when it happened but right now? It means nothing to me. And it feels weird that it means nothing to me!”

Tobirama patted his knee consolingly and that helped a little. Apparently they both had brothers to mourn yet all Madara could think about was how odd it was for two families to have so many children yet not a daughter in sight. That probably wasn’t the part he was meant to focus on. Either his guilt must have shown on his face or Hashirama could sense that something had made him uncomfortable because the man was up in the next moment and gently encouraging them to stay here in this office while he sent for someone who would apparently be able to help them figure out what had happened to their memories. Madara couldn’t say he regretted seeing the man go but neither was he particularly relieved. Knowing intellectually that they were best friends did little to automatically recreate the bond he was sure they had forged over the years.

Simply put, Hashirama meant no more or less to him than any other average person off the street.

As soon as they were alone he turned to his partner and pulled Tobirama in for a slow kiss, drinking in the pleased hum that rumbled up in response. When they parted Tobirama rested their foreheads together with an adorably dopey look in his eyes.

“What was that for?”

“Needed to feel something a little more familiar,” Madara grunted, a little embarrassed.

“Happy to provide that any time you need it.” His partner leered and Madara shoved him lightly, though he did nothing to hide the smile parting his lips.

Since there wasn’t much else to keep them occupied while they waited for Hashirama to return Madara decided there was really no harm in getting a few more kisses to pass the time. It was an effective distraction, enough so that neither of them were the least bit bored and even managed to forget their surroundings for Hashirama's return to startle them. The feeling of his presence felt a lot like empty woods somehow so maybe it wasn’t that odd for neither of them to feel his approach but the woman he had brought with him had a very sharp sensation like needles waiting for the order to pierce.

“Very interesting,” was all she had to say. Instead of greeting either of them she moved to stand over the couch with both hands on her hips and a narrow-eyed look on her face which screamed ‘scientific observations’. Tobirama didn’t seem very put off by it but Madara couldn’t say he cared for being watched like that.

“Did we know you?” he asked, his tone as blunt as her gaze.

“Very well. We scream at each other in council meetings all the time. You hate my guts, Uchiha-san, but perhaps when you regain your memories this will stand as proof that I am not the heartless harpy you seem to think I am.”

“I think the words he usually uses are ‘heartless robot’,” Hashirama chipped in helpfully. Then he melted back with a sheepish expression as all three of them turned to raise an eyebrow in almost perfect sync. Nervous, apologetic, he waved them back to their conversation and indicated that he would be out of the way somewhere over by his desk.

After watching to make sure that he did intend to stay out of her way the woman turned back to them and introduced herself as the matriarch of the Yamanaka clan. She gave no name so Madara supposed she must expect a certain formality between them, which was fine. He didn’t need her to be super cuddly with him. All she needed to do was tell him what happened to his memories. To do that she had to get right up in his personal space, however, and while he didn’t appreciate that he did his best to stay still like she asked while two clammy hands took hold of his head and foreign chakra seeped in to his mind.

Whatever she got up to in there was not a pleasant experience for him. Nothing really solid came to him but a few disjointed images flashed behind his eyes and several rounds of colorful light before finally the presence in his head receded and he realized he had a death grip on Tobirama’s hand to keep him steady. He shook himself to clear away the sensation of having someone else inside a part of him that should always remain solitary, looking back to his partner to find a grimly resigned expression looking back. No words were needed for Tobirama to understand that his turn would not be fun but neither did they need to speak for Madara to nod that he would be here as Tobirama had been for him. They were a team.

From the tight grip that took his hand he gathered that his guesses were right and the experience of whatever this woman was doing was no more pleasant for Tobirama than it had been for him. His only comfort was that she didn’t look particularly worried or upset when she finally pulled away and his partner was free to shake himself clear of her the same way he had, the same vague irritation furrowing between those pale white brows.

“I have good news and medium news.”

“Oh thank goodness, I was hoping there would be no bad news.” Hashirama wiped his brow as if he had actually been sweating with stress, oblivious to the judgmental eye of the Yamanaka woman.

“Yes, most people hope for that,” she said. “The good news is that this state is not permanent and I was able to find the cause.”

Tobirama sat forward intently. “But not remove it?”

“No and that would be the medium news. There is a fine net of chakra layered over the same portion of both your brains and its purpose seems to be inhibiting long term recall. Removing it would be a delicate process and we would run the risk of damaging the area. However, given enough time the chakra should deteriorate and be dissolved by your own so it’s simply a matter of waiting and your memories will be returned to you. Days or weeks or even months, I cannot say.”

“I think I am on Hashirama's side in this,” Tobirama mused. “At least none of that was truly bad news.”

“Wow.” Hashirama let out a low whistle.

“What?”

“You’re never on my side!”

Madara burst out laughing. Suddenly it felt a lot more natural to see the two of them as brothers. That certainly sounded like something an older brother would say. He hoped he had the same kind of relationship with his own insofar unknown sibling.

The two of them began to bicker and Madara settled himself against the back of the couch to listen with a smile hovering around the edges of his lips. He may not have known to come here until the way was pointed out for him but he was glad that he had made it; this place felt like home. It was hard to put his finger on why but he wasn’t all that concerned with questioning his own feelings or looking at them too deeply. Just having the emotions was enough, they didn’t need explanations.

Knowing that his memories would eventually come back on their own was enough too, surprisingly. As long as he had Tobirama with him they could ride this wave together until they reached the shore and all was well again. Obviously one of them would be staying at the others house until they could remember whose they actually spent more time at, Madara wasn’t really picky where since neither house held any particular meaning for him at the moment, but if he had his way Tobirama would spend as little time out of his sight as possible for the next while. That Yamanaka woman hadn’t been very specific on how long this unsettling emptiness in his mind would last.

But, he reminded himself with calming certainty, this too would end. As all things must.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #hashirama #fanfiction

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ournewoverlords · 5 years

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Booksmart slaps. It’s just a huge amount of fun to watch - the key word here for me is “good-natured”. This is a good-natured movie that teases and pokes fun at a lot of people - a lot of *kinds* of people, from the queer drama kids to the dopey jocks to the Gen Z overachieving feminist types who have pictures of Michelle Obama on their wall and can quote Susan B Anthony from memory - without ever making fun of anyone in a mean-spirited way, and highlighting that no one is ever “just” their tribe. The ending ties the story up neatly with a feel-good bow about how no one is really what they seem on the surface, especially not in high school, when everyone’s trying so hard to be invulnerable… which also means they can’t be *seen*. There’s a lot of great character work here that I think could’ve been fleshed out even more (the 1 hour 45 min runtime feels shockingly short in the day and age of Endgame) but still feels natural and sincere, and the huge array of secondary characters - real characters, not just insert-famous-cameos - gives this movie not just humor but so much life and buoyancy.

(Warning: light spoilers beneath cut)

What keeps it from reaching the top tier for me, though, is that it somehow still feels like something I’ve seen before, even though the window dressing is so different. It’s definitely rare to see female best-friendship displayed so frankly, genuinely, and *hilariously* on the big screen, and I can’t remember another movie where the nerdy valedictorian is a boss and knows it, not to mention one where one of them is a lesbian (my young baby lesbian Amy!! protect that cinnamon roll), but the story of two blood-sworn, childhood-, everything-friends reaching the last chapter of their adolescence together in fun and games and boozy celebration, all while the fear of how they’ll face the great unknown without the other is this silent undercurrent churning beneath… that feels familiar to me? That doesn’t keep me from loving this particular theme, because it IS a great one, I just mean it’s not as original as Ladybird, so it lends itself to comparison more easily.

Superbad, for instance. I actually kinda hate how every review (including the one linked here, which is totally in line with my sentiments) keeps calling this “the female Superbad”. Yes, it’s a coming-of-age comedy about two friends at the end of the senior year trying to go out with a bang together, and yes, it’s a little raunchy, and yes, it really is all about the friendship between the two main characters at its core… but the whole texture, color, and point of Booksmart are completely different.

By texture, I mean that even as the two girls are the “heroes” of this quest, it’s still interested in the characters outside them, such that you really get the sense that they are their own people, with their own lives and inner life. In the briefest of screentimes you grasp instantly why someone like Molly would be attracted to easygoing jock Nick (but then connects to the hopelessly-messy-but-sweet Jared), and why Amy likes the skatergirl with the big toothy grin. The other kids and love interests aren’t just vessels for Molly and Amy’s own awakenings. In fact, some of them have their own troubles, and they’re all really pretty good kids.

It’s interested in the way that the two mains are, in their own way, not the most perfect people. How the world’s really not out to get them; in fact, they’re the ones who have to learn to fit into it. I talk more about this below, but this was the part I liked the most, because it feels particularly true to life in a way that I don’t think I’ve seen in many other coming-of-age narratives, much less light-hearted comedies.

Speaking of light-hearted, the whole tone of the humor is waay different from Superbad’s too. It’s funny as hell, which is probably the most important thing at the end of the day — there were a few scenes that had me and my entire theater howling — but amazingly for a coming-of-age comedy, I remember very few of the jokes being gross-out or sexual, or even all that cringe. Booksmart mines a lot of physical humor just in their sheer facial expressions (if a picture is a thousand words, Beanie Feldstein’s face does the work of a thousand punchlines), but it’s mostly the little throw-away lines and hilarious sketches (the attempted robbery in the car! Amy’s overly-well-meaning parents! everything GiGi and Jared do) that string everything together and carry the day. That’s not to say that there aren’t serious moments that are given due weight too — Amy under the water, submerged in that song is just an absolutely beautiful shot.

It reminds me a little of Bo Burnham’s Eighth Grade, which I think is a more interesting comparison than Superbad here. Booksmart tries to capture some of that raw realness that Eighth Grade had, underneath all the silliness and humor; it is, in many ways, about how hard it is to be vulnerable to someone else, even (especially) the people you love. It pulls at a lot of strands and among them are the idea that this is what high school is really like, that to be honest all these boys (and girls!) who hold your heart in their clumsy, sweaty fingers will be like leaves in the wind years from now, that standing on the entrance to adulthood isn’t a physical change, it’s not about booze, or losing your virginity, or getting accepted by your peers. Becoming an adult is inner work, alright, but it’s also not work you can do on your own. Because it’s about how you treat yourself, but it’s about how you treat other people too.

But I think where Eighth Grade really succeeds is this it has this kind of specificity to it — it really, really is about this awkward girl, and her lonely existence, and about being a girl who is becoming a woman in a certain context. And that specificity gives it a kind of honesty that rings painfully true to me. Booksmart — probably because it is trying to avoid stereotypes and do something entirely new here, which is totally commendable — almost feels a little too universal. It feels like you could replace Molly and Amy here with dudes, and it wouldn’t be a huge change in dynamics outside the pussy hats and Malalia worship, because these two are defined more by their identities as “overachieving party-pooping best-friend NERDS” than by being girls per se. These are two whipsmart dorks who are best friends, and happen to be female, rather than a portrayal of female best friendship per se. And the other kids treat them that way too: no one gives a shit Molly’s chubby or Amy’s a lesbian, they give a shit that they’re exasperating know-it-alls.

Which is REALLY refreshing. I’m being unfair here — it’s *because* it’s so rare to see female friendships or just girls in general depicted this way on screen that I think it doesn’t quite “fit” my own intuitions about real life. But I’m a weird case of someone who really struggled in high school, and definitely didn’t have friends much less deep ones like theirs, and I bet other women would recognize themselves in these two and their relationship much more. The frank vagina talk and the fact that Molly and Amy are actually really self-assured and even pretty damn well-liked are just super freakin’ cool anyways. In particular I LOVE the way they’re still dorky, in a way I so rarely see female characters allowed to be because female characters written by dudes tend to be so poised and “above” the main male protagonist (probably because the screenwriters are thinking back to their own high-school crushes, who must’ve seemed so mature and unattainable to a nerdy teenage boy).

It goes back to what I said about this being an affectionate, feel-good movie where everyone turns out to be pretty decent in the end. It doesn’t set out to be much more than that, and I’m not sure if I wanted it to be, but I think it’s that fact they didn’t go all out that keeps it from being a 10/10 for me. It’s just very sweet and knowing and funny and always making sure to laugh with these oddball kids, but that same gentleness keeps it from being something great; it’s like you need some claws to expose something “real”.

It’s a little strange to me, for example, that the movie dishes out a lot of high-school tropes — all the kids are playful representatives of some stereotype — but doesn’t seem to have any real bullies, and happily accepts the two not-very-outcasted outcasts at the party with open arms. And the girls each get their heart crushed, but only for like five minutes before they (tbqh) each get an upgrade. Every Gen Z tribe gets represented — from the failing stoner who actually has an offer from Google to the misunderstood school slut to poor Jared, my sweet beautiful mess of an unloved richboy — in this kind of Glee grab-bag kinda way, but without Glee’s sense that what ties us all together is this fucking shared suffering called high school; Booksmart’s high school is more like a utopia where everyone wears what they want and gets to be quirky and different and much cooler than you think in their own individualistic way. (They even have Jessica Williams as a teacher! UGH, so jelly.)

There’s something that’s actually really subversive about this, because 1) no one’s a villain and 2) to the extent that Molly and Amy are unpopular, it’s kinda brought on by themselves. *They* were the ones who chose never to hang out with the other kids, because studying was more important. *They* are the ones who have to learn something. Molly was the one who judged everyone by the school they got into, even as the others never gave a shit about it. Amy came out two years ago, but the reason she’s never had a kiss isn’t so much because she’s a lesbian, but because she’s too timid and unassertive as a person. Molly’s character arc is discovering that she’s too freaking judgey and she needs to stop assuming she knows everything from the cover, Amy’s is to realize herself as her own person outside of the (admittedly powerful) centrifugal force of her best friend.

Those are GREAT ideas for arcs, it’s just that the execution of them didn’t completely land for me — maybe because the jokes were competing so much with the serious bits for screentime, it had to scramble at the end for the moment of character growth. So it didn’t feel fully “earned” to me, even as it worked on the thematic level of truly seeing people when you aren’t blinded by your own assumptions.

Still, it’s a really satisfying movie with a different take on a common trope, and packed with killer lines and secondary characters like Jared that are just so great (he’s one that feels especially on-point to me because I recognize one of my old classmates in him — a great kid, just… swimming through life in a different lane). The cameos by the adult actors — Jessica Williams, Lisa Kudrow, Jason Sudeikis, Will Forte — were predictably fantastic. In fact all the acting and casting was SO GOOD (I found out later that the casting director was the one who did Freaks and Geeks!). I’m impressed by Olivia Wilde in her directorial debut here, it’s clear that she has an ear for comedic beats and some of the shots were wonderful — in a lot of comedies the camera is just kinda static and it’s all talking heads, but here the angles, the POV shots, the longer takes that move in and out of sound add so much dynamism. Excited for what she does next.

#booksmart #booksmart spoiler #booksmart review #olivia wilde

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hanleykayla · 6 years

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September 23, 2018

This week, I found joy and happiness in the simple moments and held onto them - and it felt good. On a night when the power went out, instead of retreating to my room where I could read under a rechargeable lamp with minimal clothes on to escape the darkness and the heat, I asked Oppong if I could help him make dinner. In the complete dark, we threw a flashlight back in forth while he attempted to make toast in a panini-maker and I tried to fry eggs, both ending up burning something. We were unsuccessful - and eventually ate when the lights came on! - but it was fun and better than being alone. I also had the opportunity to celebrate my birthday here. I celebrated it in a fast food restaurant with store bought cake and sparkling grape juice, two Italian men I just met the day before (the new volunteers), and a three-year old boy named Nana who shared his birthdate with me. Oppong stood up in the middle of Pizza Inn and gave a speech about how important Nana and I are, and we concluded the speech Nana and I cutting the cake to serve. Looking at the pictures and videos, it looks more like we were getting married than celebrating our birthdays…

But, to say that it will be a day that I will never forget is an understatement. (Especially because my “host family” took me to an arcade and go-karting afterwards, and I didn’t even know that was a thing here!)

Last week, I talked about how I was feeling somewhat purpose-less in my work. I have been reflecting on this feeling for the past week (and for many weeks before bringing it up) and what I have discovered is that on top of the lack of fulfillment I was receiving with my work, I also feeling a lack of myself. For the past three weeks, ever since I woke up one Sunday morning and just felt “off,” I haven’t felt like myself. I assume the worst in everyone, giving to others has started to feel like a burden, and I am not approaching each day with excitement to experience new things. All of this leads to not seeing myself when I look in the mirror. The last part could be in result of me buying a set of new clothes for this adventure that I would most likely never wear back home, or it could be because I don’t feel as in control nor healthy as I used to, but who knows. I was well aware that I would have to give up some of me - my needs and wants - for my time here (re: the selfless post from July), but I was not anticipating giving up all of me.

And, I truly believe that I could sacrifice all of that if I was finding some fulfillment at work. If I could find joy and purpose in my day to day work, two things that would fill up some sense of self, then the “selfless” lifestyle I have to adapt to here would be worth it; Seeing my self in my work would be compensation or a trade-off for not seeing myself in the mirror for three more months. But, unfortunately, right now, that is just not happening.

I knew I received my confirmation that I was no longer myself when I was with my friend Elizabeth the other day. I haven’t introduced you to Elizabeth yet because she won’t let me take her picture and she does not like attention, but I met her during my first day of work when I walked to Kasoa to find something to eat. I ended up at Elizabeth’s stand looking to buy an ear of corn. Our interaction was limited, a simple “Hi…Hello…How are you” in Twi. However, her corn was a safe food to eat and her kindness was a safe place to be, so I developed a sense of loyalty towards her to be my go-to lunch on the days I was in the office. Over the weeks, Elizabeth started to yell “My friend!” or “My sister!” when I would approach her and our greetings went from smiles to hugs. There were days when Elizabeth, with her (incredibly!) broken English would introduce me to her family members and friends, and there were days when she would tell me she had not eaten over the weekend and I would buy meals for her instead of myself.

Even though our conversations were surface level, with my limited Twi and her limited English, Elizabeth became one of the people I looked forward to seeing most in my days. She treated me like a human, like someone who belonged, and not just a walking resource.

The day I knew something was up with me started with myself walking past Elizabeth’s stand, where her sister was sitting. Upon seeing me, her sister jumped up, started shouting, and tried to get my attention. Now, I have grown pretty accustomed to people yelling and jumping at me, so I did what I have taught myself to do, and I ignored her. This led to the women chasing me down throughout the market of Kasoa until she reached me and could bring me back. [Enter a mental picture of an elderly woman with a large bowl of watermelons on her head, screaming, running after a white girl who is clearly uninterested in anyone around her…probably not the best way I would want to represent myself…]

When we got back to the family stand, Elizabeth was there waiting and was stunned to say the least when she saw her sister and I walking up together. While I don’t know what she said to her sister once we arrived, I am sure it was something along the lines of “Were you guys hanging out together? Why wasn’t I invited?” because of the confused expression and aggressive hand gestures, but also because we really are all the same - a fear of loneliness, the desire to be included, and a sense of jealousy exists in all of us regardless of the continent.

Once the “My sister!” and the hug concluded, Elizabeth said “Home, home!” and grabbed my hand to lead me back behind the market buildings. To give you a sense of what walking through these communities is like, on the ground, we walk over small streams that flowed between shacks, streams of human sewage, all types of trash, and a mysterious green slime, and at eye-level, I continue to be a walking conversation piece as people yell “Obroni!” and children run up to touch my skin or pull my hair. Elizabeth seemed to pay no mind to the latter and continued to drag me past goats, chickens, and stray dogs (that you all know I desperately want to pet!). When we arrived at our destination, Elizabeth proudly used a broom to sweep loose dirt off of her solid mud entrance way, and opened her arms to say, “My home.” In that moment, I could have felt the immense joy and sense of community that I had been anticipating by coming here, but I have to shamefully admit that in my head, I thought, “Okay, cool, thanks.”

Okay?! Cool?! Thanks?! This woman left her stand during the morning rush, walked her frail body and shoeless feet all the way back to her home, which she then showed incredible respect for, welcomed me in to a very personal space, and I thought, “Okay, cool, thanks.” If you would have told the Kayla who was in tears when she was told that she could not leave for Africa on the day originally planned, the Kayla that was so sure of this journey as being her ~dream come true~, that she was going to form a relationship with a woman and eventually be welcomed in to her home without a sense of embarrassment but with a sense of pride, she would have thought, “Heck yes! Get me on that plane! Let’s do this!” But, present Kayla thought, “Okay, cool, thanks…let me get to the mall where I can sit with my coffee in the air conditioning.” It was not until I left the uncovered mattress Elizabeth uses as a couch and as a bed, and arrived to that air-conditioned utopia, that I realized how much my heart has been broken here; Shame and disappointment washed over me, and in all of my dramatics, I honestly said out loud, “Who are you?”

So, here is the summary: on the surface, this interaction was still a positive one and I put on my best self. While I was thinking, “Okay, cool, thanks,” you better believe that I said “medaase pa [thank you so much], ehh nyamin shra wo [may god bless you]” and gave everyone in the household gracious hugs, whether they called me obroni or pulled my hair or asked me for money/marriage or what. I made sure Elizabeth received the respect and kindness she had given me because I knew how special I had to be her and how blessed I was with the opportunity to be.

However, you guys know what was going on on the inside. And, what I have learned through prayer, conversations, reflection, and honestly some podcasts is that who we are is so much more important than what we do. Motives matter. And, if I stayed here, if I continued to live here for three more months, it would only be for the purpose to say that I did it. I would only stay here to prove to myself that I could live in Africa for six months, and that it could be something to put on the resume. And, here’s the thing - I could! I have adapted to the lifestyle, the heat, the chores, the washing-my-hair-only-once-a-week, so if I really had to, I could stay and accomplish this. But, what I actually be doing anything?

At work, I am seeing a lack of progress or impact as, on top of other things I have mentioned, I spent a full day copying the written records of all CHF’s past volunteers into a spreadsheet to use for sending mass fundraising emails (as instructed!), only to learn that this spreadsheet already exists on one employee’s laptop, he just didn’t mention it to anyone.

While the task will still be completed, it seems as if CHF may have some foundational things to workout themselves when preparing to support and host long-term volunteers. Most volunteers only stay for about 4-6 weeks, and in that time, they are able to accomplish short-term projects and advance CHF’s mission - which is great! But, CHF has only had one other volunteer who stayed for as long as I committed. In the 10 years they have been active, there has only been one! So, I don’t blame them or hold any anger for the lack of fulfillment I have been feeling as I approach my 10th week here. I just wish I knew this information before I committed. My expectations and the reality of what can offered did not line up, and that is okay.

With all of this in mind, my stubborn self was still not ready to quit. I wanted to respect my commitment and test my strength by staying here until December. But… then, I thought of Charlotte, my two year old niece, and what I would say to her if she was in this situation. Would I give her the advice of “Prove to others that you can do this! Think about the resume!,” or would I want to say, “Nothing is worth losing yourself over. You are too important.”? I think if we begin to all talk to ourselves the way we would talk to a child, we would see some real changes.

So, feeling empty in both the personal and professional aspect of my life, I have decided to end my time in Ghana early. I know that I would not produce the best outcomes for myself or for CHF if I stayed here because I lost my internal motivation to give, and it is almost impossible to get to the right place if you have the wrong motives. I will be staying here until the beginning of October so I can represent CHF at a conference this coming weekend and I can provide the proper closure to the projects I have been working on.

Growth is painful. Change is painful. But nothing is as painful as staying stuck somewhere you don’t belong. We all have the right to self-diagnose, “I am handling this wrong,” and I think part of the reason why we don’t take that as direction to move on, and rather hold on to something so tight, is because we fear something so great won’t happen twice. We can’t leave relationships, salaries, or comfort, because what if they never happen again? What if this is the best it is going to get?

By walking away, I am going to refuse to believe that I can only have one dream of mine be accomplished, that coming to Africa - something I have been wanting to do since the second grade - is the prime of my life and now I have to go back home to a mundane lifestyle. As cliche as it is (hence the intentionally-placed-rainbow picture above ☺), when one chapter ends, another begins, and who is to say that it cannot be as great or even greater as the one before? I turned 25 yesterday, and I feel more this age than any other year before. I have a sense of confidence, independence, and self-assurance that I have never had before and I CANNOT WAIT to see where this takes me. 24 was hard(!), but I can’t blame the past for the things that went wrong if I am also not willing to be thankful for the times that went right. I have said it before, and I will say it again: good and bad things happen simultaneously, so while its a disappointment that this journey is ending early, I can’t wait to discover the possibilities I am going to have when I go home.

I will continue to post for two more weeks, and if you read this whole post, please go treat yourself a glass of wine or something that I am so desperately missing on my behalf!!

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