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cafeinthemoon · 3 years

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Tobirama, Madara and Izuna with s/o who’s the last of the clan 💔

I was so excited when anon requested this one that I regret taking this long to finally write it! This time, we have Tobirama, Madara and Izuna with a s/o that reveals to be the last of her clan and besides infertile, which means that her lineage would be over with her, as well as their own. Let’s see how they would react!

To give this request a context, let’s imagine that they’re married for just some months and she never revealed this secret because she was afraid that they would leave her after finding out about it. Sm tension! Poor s/o 😭

Oh and Izuna's part ended up longer than I thought to be possible omg

Fandom: Naruto | Tobirama Senju, Madara Uchiha and Izuna Uchiha

Symbols: ◻ | 💜 | 💛 | ▶▶

Warnings: angst, not exactly happy endings, depression, tension, infertility, grief

Tobirama

It’s not like Tobirama didn’t notice something was wrong since you started living together: he did

He trusted you with his life, but he sensed you were keeping something from him, though he had no idea of what it could be

Maybe you did something shameful or something about your past has been haunting you since then, but you didn’t know how to tell him

Whatever the case, he never questioned you or tried to make you talk

He wanted you to take your time and only speak when you felt prepared, the best way for you to show how much you trusted and respected him

But months and months passed and your silence persisted, and it was hard for him to ignore it

One day, the answer to this mystery came in an unexpected way, during a casual conversation at home

Tobirama pointed out your circumstances were favorable: your routine together was settled, your house had enough space and he finally finished to work on some jutsu he has been developing for a while

You agreed and asked why he was talking about this now

It was when he said he believed that you both had proper conditions to have children

When you heard the word children, you couldn’t control your reaction: you started to tremble and covered your face to hide your tears

It took like one hour until you were able to speak again, and when you did, you begged Tobirama to listen to you until the end before thinking of what to do

You revealed that you weren’t lying when you told him you were the last of your clan, but that was not the whole story: you also discovered you were unable to get pregnant, which means your lineage would end with you

And if Tobirama kept married to you, the same would happen to his lineage as well

You explained you were scared to tell him the truth because you didn’t want to disappoint him or to see him leaving you

You also said you were sorry for destroying the trust he had on you and that if he wanted to step away from this marriage that wouldn’t bring him any benefits, you would understand

That was the moment when without a word you were remembered why you loved that man so much: he pulled you to him and involved you in a hug so tight that you thought you were going to suffocate

When he spoke, was to ask how you could think he would give up on you because of a child that you couldn’t bring to the world – a person who didn’t even exist

He married you because he loved you, not your bloodline

But you know, Tobirama is a man of actions and not just words, so once he understood how important this was for you, he started to work

He spent hours, days, weeks in research and tests with your genetic material to find the exact cause of your infertility, because with this information he could develop a cure

He also included the principles of chakra in his studies, which resulted in the cure being a type of healing ninjutsu

Tobirama didn’t like to speak about his techniques before he had proof of their efficacy, so he never talked to you about his discoveries. He was wise in not giving you false expectations

But one day, the jutsu was finally complete

He explained that he tried to improve the chances of success as much as he could, but they didn’t even reach 90% (an acceptable number according to him), so that the chances of failure couldn’t be ignored

You said that if the technique failed, you would learn to live with it and that all the effort he put on it was enough for you, for it was the greatest proof of love you’d expect to receive

Tobirama then explained how it would work and helped you with the preparations

You would take the healing treatment from him during a few sessions; after that, you would try a few times

All the procedure would take months, so you would have to be patient and reshape some of your habits: the healthier you would get, bigger were the chances of success

It’s been some time since you started the experiment, so there’s still hope

But you decided to use your time not just to rely on hope, but also to prepare yourself to whatever the future would bring to you ❤

Madara

Something unexplainable, a kind of sadness, were always present in you, in your voice, your gestures, and specially when you were quiet, distracted with your own thoughts

Since Madara met you, he had this strange sensation about you

Maybe it was a painful memory or something about your clan

You told him you were the last of it, so he was the only family you had now

He could say he understood part of you pain, for he lost his siblings when they were little, as well as his parents: he knew what it was like to be alone

But there was a part of the story you still hadn’t the courage to reveal to him: you were infertile, so you’d never be able to give him children

And you knew he wanted to be a father

Besides he was the clan’s head, so he needed an offspring

He noticed your used to get particularly quiet when children were mentioned

But he never questioned you about it

You, on the other hand, always knew that sooner or later, this would be discussed seriously in your house, yet you pretended it would never happen

But one evening, when you were sitting together, talking about the life you were building there and the future, Madara spoke again about his dream of becoming a father

This time, you couldn’t take it anymore

You said sorry to your husband, but you would not be able to make his dream come true

He didn’t ask how, or why: he just stared at you in silence, wondering what you were talking about

Then you finally confessed everything: you were not just the last of your clan; you were also unable to get pregnant. Having children were always a difficult theme for you, both because it was a dream you’d never reach and because of your lineage

You told him how you discovered your infertility, how your clan reacted to it, how you were rejected because no one would want a wife who wasn’t able to have children, how the world made your life gravitate around this instead of just let you live in peace

When you lost your family, your feelings were mixed: on one hand, you felt free from the burden of being infertile; on the other hand, you never felt so alone

You were determined to live only for yourself until you met Madara, who convinced you to do differently. And now things were about to get ruined because this shadow of your past

Your husband’s first reaction was to ask for a moment all by himself. He wanted to process everything he just heard before taking any measures

You gave him time and spent the rest of the night without seeing him

(You barely closed your eyes on the bed)

The next morning, he came back to talk to you

He said he was going to travel to seek for a solution and that he was not coming back until he found out something good enough for you two

You asked for details but he refused to give them. Sometimes he was so enigmatic that he would scare you

But you had to trust him, so you let him go even not knowing when he would be back

During his travel, Madara met some elder, wise people and asked for a jutsu, a medicine or anything that could help. He would pay any price for it

And they named their price, which wasn’t low. Still he paid

He would never speak about it with you, though

After weeks, he came back home with scrolls and artifacts and finally explained what he had in mind

You’ve never heard about those jutsu and didn’t trust those types of medicine

But you noticed he wasn’t the same man who left the house, so it was understood that he made some sacrifice to obtain those things

So that for your husband, you would try anything

If they would work, you weren’t sure

But you wouldn’t let all his efforts be in vain 😭

Izuna always had this positive, almost euphoric confidence in the future, in your love, in your success together, and didn’t accept anything that could contradict his vision of things

Izuna

The issue in this case started even before you got married

But to be honest, this was what first thing caught your attention when you met him

After living alone for years since you lost your family, he was the first person who convinced you to change your ways

He made you believe everything was possible, and to try and live happy again

Yes, even you, despite everything you’ve been through, felt the flames of hope waking up again inside your heart

Sometimes, you felt like Izuna had enough vital energy for you both

The sensation was such that after every meeting with him you needed some time by yourself to recover: his company was almost suffocating

He was also a man used to make important decisions quickly: he hated wasting time with deliberations, stating that this was a habit of old people

(Wasting time in his words, let’s be clear lol)

The idea of the marriage came from him, as expected

Of course you said yes: you loved him as much as you loved yourself, so the idea of being by his side forever was everything you could expect

And with your positive answer, Izuna has been more intense than ever

He made plans for you: the house you would share, the memories you would create in it, the life you would build there

Everything was fine, even when he forgot to ask your opinion

Until the moment he mentioned the children he expect to bring to the world with you

You knew that once Izuna got attached to an idea, it was impossible to make him change his mind, so things weren’t different with the fatherhood thing

In a short amount of time, this became the central theme of his dreams and his favorite thing to discuss with you

Well, to speak about with you, because you barely said anything during these conversations

Instead, you tried to appear as positive and supportive as you could

But as the days passed and the marriage came closer, it was getting harder for you to hide how much this was making you suffer

Because yes, Izuna knew you had no clan and no family, then being the last representative of your lineage, but you never had the courage to tell him about your infertility

And now that he seemed not to think of anything else than having kids with you, you couldn’t dream of ruining his happiness

(Fortunately Izuna was used to your quietness, so he never questioned your silence when he spoke about this)

You stayed strong until you could during the following weeks, but the day before the marriage had pushed you too far

You couldn’t – you simply could not ruin the life of the man you loved revealing that secret to him

So you decided you had to make a sacrifice, for the both of you

Early that day, before the sun appeared, you packed your things and left

You left no apology letter, no message of goodbye, nothing. You just left before anything could stop you or anyone could see you

You traveled alone during a couple of hours

You had no idea of where you were going, or what you were going to do when you had to stop at somewhere to rest, but you forbade yourself to think of coming back

At some moment, you looked at the sky and noticed the midday was close and felt hungry

You stopped under a tree and was about to unpack the food you brought with you when you saw you had company

You raised your eyes and, when you recognized Izuna standing there, staring at you with a look full of questions, you lost the last drop of balance you had in you

You cried so hard you thought you were going to pass out

He approached you was about to involve you in his arms, but you begged him not to touch you, claiming that you couldn’t marry him and that he must have not followed you

But Izuna was a persistent man, and after an hour trying to calm you down, he managed to make you speak

There was no point in hiding anything from him now, so you just told him everything

You explained that you’d marry him and make him the happiest man alive if it wasn’t for this dream with which you couldn’t help him

And that you couldn’t be so cruel to the point of bound him to you and deny him of this at the same time

When you finished your story, it was Izuna’s time to remain in silence

You could feel the rush of feelings stirring inside him as his eyes would go from one side to another, trying to assimilate all of that

You didn’t know if he was going to leave you there, to kill you or to burst in tears, and that was freaking you out

It was when you begged him to say something, anything, but not stay that quiet

And he spoke. But when he did, there was nothing but a restored passion in his tone

You didn’t understand that until he explained that he thought you were kidnapped or something worse happened, but he was glad that it was nothing like this

Before you could stop him, Izuna caught you in a tight embrace, telling you to never do that again

And that he was sorry for not letting you at will to take off this weight of you chest and that if he knew about this he would have never pushed you this far

You came back with him and the marriage happened as planned the next day

Some time later, you found about about a kid of an Uchiha couple that just lost their parents

You talked to each other and with the kid’s remaining family and came to the conclusion that they would live better with you

The family talked to the kid, and when you had your first meeting, you almost forgot about all the past suffering 🌹

#naruto requests #tobirama #madara #izuna uchiha #tobirama x reader #madara x reader #izuna x reader

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raendown · 4 years

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Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 4042 Chapter: 36/42 Summary: Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. Some are fought at the conference table, with whispers in the shadows, or even in the bedroom.

In a world where the Senju and Uchiha traditional lands were too far apart to have ever made them enemies, Butsuma and Tajima are the ones who come together and sign a treaty of peace. Madara isn’t happy to have his life signed away for him in a political marriage to strengthen the bond between their clans. He is even less happy to have Tobirama make assumptions of him from their very first night together. What follows from there is a journey of healing, of learning, and finding the places to belong in the places least expected.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

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Chapter 36

The high of finally having the physical outlet to express the love he had for his husband lasted several days longer than most probably expected it to, helped along rather nicely by the fact that once he’d had a taste Madara was deliciously eager to repeat the experience. Tobirama had never felt shame for having pride in a job well done before in his life and he was not about to start now. After a week the humdrum routines of paperwork and endless meetings slowly brought him back down to earth where he once again began terrorizing the various staff members who had failed to do the work they were supposed to while he was at the capitol.

As they drew close to the weekend he was almost strangely thankful for the high council meeting, a chance for him to sit down and at least let his legs relax from running back and forth across the village so much over the past few days. Not even the tension between their two founding idiots was enough to completely spoil his mood, the first time he’d been forced to see them both in the same room since his return, though it did dampen his spirits a little. Having Madara in the seat next to him as usual helped with that. A hand to hold under the table and a foot coyly stroking along the top of his own would undoubtedly be enough to salvage anyone’s mood. His husband had grown quite bold in quite a short amount of time now that his inner beast had finally been let out of the cage, allowed to properly explore his sexuality at last.

No matter the distraction, however, listening to each of the clan heads make their long winded speeches with puffed up self-importance was still boring as hell and Tobirama, for once, allowed himself to just tune the lot of them out. Generally he tried to pay attention as much as possible since these windbags did have little nuggets of important information hidden between the useless chaff. And he was usually one of the ones who kept minutes for these meetings. But the woman who had covered him for that job over the last week was still frantically writing notes again today so he felt free to kick back and let his mind wander away from whatever nonsense was shifting the dust in the air around them. Other than the random tidbits of info that was about as much good as their gabbing did. He could have someone catch him up later.

With so much free time for his mind to wander he skipped through several topics, mentally checking off the work he had done today and the things he had left to do, planning up a few rough drafts in his imagination and working through a few problems for solutions to be implemented later. He was just turning his mind to the topic of what to cook for dinner, probably something savory as a treat for his husband, when the Shimura clan head sat down and the Hatake head stood up with a clearing of her throat. As he had with each new speaker Tobirama tuned back in to the room just to see if what the next person had to say would be in any way interesting or important. As soon as the woman began speaking he was glad he’d taken the precaution.

“Another team passing close to the southern borders of Hi no Kuni has come back with reports of disturbing chakra activity,” she said, immediately capturing most of the room’s attention. “This time one of their number had enough sensing ability to tell us that the chakra was thicker and heavier than anything he’s ever felt before. Unfortunately his range is not very wide so he couldn’t say more than that but it’s obvious that our people have twice now encountered something like we’ve never seen before.”

“Did they approach?” Butsuma asked from where he was all but lounging in his chair with disturbingly casual body language.

“No, their mission report states that they did not feel equipped to engage.”

“And did the presence appear to follow them?”

The Hatake clan head let her eyes shift pointedly to the window outside where the weather and all of their people were perfectly calm, if a little cold. “No. I should think it did not.”

“Right then. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about then, do you?” Butsuma shrugged and reached for one of the pages in front of him. Clearly he was ready to dismiss the matter offhand. Tobirama felt his own teeth grind together just as the Hatake woman’s did.

“Father,” he spoke up firmly. “Should we not at least look in to this? Maybe send a team to investigate properly with actual sensors, perhaps some of Izuna’s ANBU? Even if it does turn out to be nothing it would be smart to put our people to rest. That’s two teams now who’ve felt this presence and named it troubling; if they spread the news and word gets out that we haven’t responded in any way there are many ways the public can rally against our council.”

To absolutely no one’s surprise Butsuma sighed and wrinkled his nose, scrunching the entirety of his already scrunched and drooping face. “If you absolutely insist but I’m telling you this is a waste of resources.”

If he weren’t so annoyed at his father for being such an idiot Tobirama might not have turned his face away in time to catch the devious expression on Tajima’s face at the other end of the room just before their second resident idiot opened his mouth to prove he was still a contrary ass.

“Well I happen to think it’s an excellent idea,” he declared. “One can never be too careful.”

“You can be if it wastes everyone’s time for nothing,” Butsuma snapped. He caught himself a moment later and sat straighter in his chair in an effort to reassert authority. A failed effort.

“Feel free to explain that to anyone who comes to our council with questions if this really does turn out to be cause for concern.” As though to deliberately contrast his rival again Tajima sank back in to his own chair until he was sprawled out almost as casually as Butsuma had just been only moments before and Tobirama took a moment to openly roll his eyes since no one was looking at him. He felt a steadying hand squeeze his knee under the table and sighed.

Knowing they would continue to glare at each other for the rest of the meeting if interrupted now, he counted backwards in his head until a full two minutes of silence had gone by before clearing his throat. Both of them jumped but he felt no sympathy, barely felt any surprise that they had been too wrapped up in their own idiocy to remember where they were, only steamrolled on passed them by asking the Hatake clan head if she had anything else to add from the report on their southern border.

Someday it would be Hashirama and Madara sitting up at opposite ends of the table and he honestly could not wait even if that meant trading one pair of disaster idiots for another. Or maybe he could even convince them there wasn’t a need for two people to hold themselves above the rest. By the time their fathers retired or kicked the bucket, whichever came first, maybe he could convince his husband and brother that sitting in amongst the others as they did now, as equals, would help the entire council work as a more cohesive unit. No one liked a self-important blowhard setting themselves above others when they didn’t deserve to.

“We’re in agreement then? A team will be sent out to investigate the southern border to report on the source of this strange chakra and what actions may need to be taken to protect ourselves against it?” As the Hatake clan head sat down and neither of their fathers were talking Tobirama resigned himself to leading the next discussion until one of their so-called leaders woke up and remembered how much they enjoyed vying for control.

“Feels like the smartest course of action to me,” Madara answered him when no one else did.

“Right!” Hashirama piped up at the other end of the table. “Of course it’s smart. Tobi only ever has smart ideas.”

“Not now, Anija,” he scolded absently. He wasn’t the type who needed his ego stroked.

When he asked the room at large what was next on the agenda Butsuma was the first to snap out of his pathetic funk and start the next discussion, harrumphing and shuffling papers like it might distract them from the fact that he had just been pouting. Not a whole lot happened during the rest of the meeting until the very end when Tajima finally managed to wrest attention back to himself long enough to ask loudly, with nose in the air, for Madara to report on how he had progressed in getting an active police force up and running.

Since it hadn’t even been two weeks after their return from the capitol Madara had to admit that they didn’t have a lot ready yet. Land had been found and designs for the building they were to use as headquarters were still in the blueprints phase as they tried to consider every different function they would need that space to serve. What they did have was a lot of volunteers from several different clans, although a good chunk of them were from the Uchiha as they all flocked to support their clan heir’s latest endeavor. Madara was quick to point out that his people did have quite a lot of skills that would lend themselves well to serving on a local police force but since no one seemed upset by the over-representation he relaxed just as quickly.

Tobirama watched his husband speak to the room with pride filling his chest. Everything had been going so well lately. He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop but the longer he waited the more he began to think – with almost Hashirama-like optimism – that maybe there really was no other shoe. For once maybe things could just go well without any sort of disaster falling on all their heads and turning everything upside down. That would be nice. Honestly he’d had his fair share of disasters already and the idea of a few months where things could just run along smoothly at the status quo was absolutely heavenly.

After the council meeting Tobirama very reluctantly bid his husband a short farewell and hurried off back to work. There were several other people he needed to speak with today about various projects and unfortunately none of them could really be foisted off until later when he felt more like working. Lately he never felt like working. All he really wanted to do was curl up at home with his husband, a good book, and a steaming cup of tea.

Let it never be said, however, that he was not dutiful. Though it was the very opposite of what he wanted Tobirama wandered from place to place in the tower and spoke to the people he needed to, made his notes, and completed the work that certainly no one else was going to step up and complete. With several new sheets of notes to sort out across the various projects he had his fingers in Tobirama returned to his office with the intention of doing so only to find that his officemates were miraculously present for once. Seeing either of them actually sitting behind their desks was such a rare occurrence he actually had to stop in the doorway and double check that he’d come to the right office. He couldn’t remember the last time this had happened.

Thankfully he managed to pick his jaw off the floor and hustle inside before either of them could notice his hesitation, slipping in to the seat at his desk and pulling out folders to file away the papers he’d brought back with him, doing everything possible to make his movements natural. Inside he felt anything but natural. After so long having the office all to himself it was incredibly strange to have two other bodies there and even though he knew they weren’t he could swear he felt them both watching his every move. Just having their chakra so close made his skin crawl after only fifteen minutes. He couldn’t work like this. There was still so much he needed to do and he would get none of it done if he stayed here. The two men who shared his office were perfectly pleasant people but he was used to them not being around during work hours and having what he had come to view as his own space invaded like this was simply too distracting to function as a productive environment.

He needed somewhere else to work.

Gathering all the things he thought he would need for the rest of the day, Tobirama neatly sealed the lot of it in to one of the storage scrolls he kept in the bottom drawer and stuffed that in his pocket. Again he tried not to make eye contact and keep his body language as casual as he could while escaping the room so neither of his officemates would know they had chased him away without doing anything more than sitting there.

The first place he headed for was a floor above, two more brilliant chakra signatures which drew him in like a warm embrace rather than chasing him away with discomfort. With the door standing open he didn’t even need to knock, although he probably would have heard the two of them carrying on even with it closed. Only partway down the hall he was already smothering a grin, warmth in his chest, hiding away his laughter as he listened to Madara chastise his best friend for – as far as he could make out – eating so loudly the entire building could apparently hear him. The first thing Tobirama saw when he peeked around the corner was Hashirama with a bento box between his hands and tears streaming down his cheeks. Long years of brotherhood steered him more towards fanning the flames than anything resembling sympathy.

“What is all the ruckus?” he asked, catching both of their attention. “It sounds like boulders crashing together, the whole building is shaking.”

Hashirama burst in to fresh wails denouncing them both as meanie-heads while Madara stuffed a fist in his mouth to muffle what would doubtless have been a very loud bark of laughter. After he’d gotten himself a little more under control he lowered his hand and offered a grin. “’Lo.”

“Mn, hello anata.” Tobirama kept his expression mild as he stepped inside, using Hashirama's distraction as an opportunity to drop a kiss on his husband’s cheek. “Having a good afternoon?”

“I was until Champ Chomp over there got in to the snack his wife brought him.”

“Ah. Yes he can get a little too enthusiastic with chewing.” With a pause to glare at his brother, now paying the two of them rapt attention, he was glad he’d gotten in his affections when they were still unobserved. Hashirama had a habit of making a big deal out of every small gesture.

Just like he was clearly waiting to do now. “Aw, come on, no sweet kiss for your hubby?”

“Please do not ever use that word again,” Madara growled.

“Seconded.”

“Let’s pretend he’s not here. Did you need something?” His husband looked up at him with the practiced ease of someone who was all too used to ignoring the pathetic sounds of Hashirama whining at them for being mean to him again.

“I only came to tell you not to wait for me at the end of the day, you can walk home with Izuna if you like. My space has been invaded here so I’m heading out to use the office at the house. Was there anything specific you felt like for dinner? If you have a guess for when you’ll be home I could get things started.”

Madara considered it then shook his head. “Don’t start anything. I’ll pick something up from the market on my way home and we can cook together.”

“I’d like that.” Tobirama granted him half a smile then waited for Hashirama to sniffle and rub his eyes before darting in for another lightning fast kiss. “That’s all I wanted. Have a good day for what’s left of it, I will see you at home. Anija, do try to let him get at least some work done, yes?”

He didn’t bother to wave to either of them but nor did he bother to turn and exit back through the door. Leaving by window was much more efficient and came with the added benefit of bypassing anyone in the tower who might catch him and drop more work in his lap. Then too there was the fact that he could feel his father’s chakra loitering near the front entrance to the building that he would have otherwise needed to go through and after such an idiotic meeting earlier he had no desire to speak with the man. Since the window he’d leapt out of was several stories up Tobirama chose the easy route of landing in a nearby tree and swinging down in to a little-used courtyard where it was unlikely anyone had witnessed his quick escape. When he slipped out on to the streets he had already pulled his clothing back in to order, not a single hint left behind that he’d been swinging around through the buildings like a monkey.

For the most part his plan to spend the rest of the work day at home had been to avoid his coworkers so it should go without saying that Tobirama was not the most social of creatures. There were very few people in the village whose company he would cheerfully accept and even fewer he would happily seek out. His husband, bless the man’s heart, functioned much the same. It was therefore almost a surprise to come home and find the wards already disarmed to denote a guest familiar enough to have dismantled them.

Surprise only lasted as long as it took him to walk in to the kitchen and discover Susumu up on a stool trying to fit what looked like a large tin inside the cupboard over the fridge. At the sound of him entering she froze for a few moments, the two of them standing perfectly still, staring each other down. Finally she grunted.

“Well are you going to help me or not?”

“I find myself unwilling to ask why but yes, of course.”

Allowing himself a bemused smile, Tobirama stepped close enough to take the tin from her and place it neatly in to one of the cupboards Madara also could not reach. Considering her choice of where to put it he figured he could guess what was inside even without asking. She might be soft enough to leave her precious students sweets every so often but she certainly wasn’t nice enough to make them easy for him to find.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” she asked after hopping back down from the chair she’d been using as a perch.

“I came home to work here. My office got invaded.” His brow wrinkled to see her leave the chair where it was without pushing it back in, frowning until she rolled her eyes and put it away properly.

“Well you came home just in time, I guess. I was gonna set up a bunch of pranks around here but it’s not as much fun if you’re expecting them. Another day, maybe.”

Tobirama eyed her for a moment but let that go without questions too. Until now the few times she had broken in to their home to leave sweets he wasn’t aware of any pranks left behind. Of course, that could have been because Madara was too embarrassed to tell him about them later or perhaps it had only happened in the months when they weren’t getting along. He wasn’t sure how he felt about whatever madness she might leave behind in their safe space but if it got him a laugh at his husband’s expense…

Looking around to make sure all evidence of her visit had been erased, Susumu waved cheerfully and announced her intentions to leave, pausing after only two steps when Tobirama held up one hand.

“May I ask your advice on something?” he asked. She raised her eyebrows curiously.

“You’ve got my attention, sweetcakes.”

“I’m assuming after spending so many years teaching Madara you would have gotten to know Izuna quite well too. If you were planning to give him a gift that you weren’t sure he wanted to accept, how might you go about presenting it to him?”

“Oh?” Her brows lifted even higher. “Is someone trying to buy off his brother-in-law’s affection?”

Tobirama huffed. “Not exactly.”

“Hmm. The most important thing to consider is that he’s a prideful little shit and if you try to give something that suggests he needs something from you he won’t take it well. Do you want a little help brainstorming some good ideas?”

“Not necessary, I already know what I wish to gift him. I simply don’t know how to give it without turning his nose up.”

Susumu laughed. “Yeah, he does get a little prissy. Okay a lot prissy. The kids a walking bitch face but I love him to pieces, I’m glad to see you’re trying to get along with him too. Even if he doesn’t really deserve it. Alright, well, if you’re sure the gift is a good one then I’d say the best thing to do would be to ambush him in public with someone he respects nearby to discourage him from making a spectacle of himself.” One finger tapped at her chin as her eyes rolled towards the ceiling in thought. “This is probably going to make no sense but it would also help if you could make it all about him without making a big spectacle of him.”

“Focus my own attention only on him without drawing the attention of others?” Tobirama surmised. He knew he’d guessed right when she landed an approval punch on one of his arms.

“Exactly, you get it. Make sure Madara's there too. It might hurt your pride but if you’re looking to make Izuna happy then there’s nothing he’ll like more than seeing you humble yourself in front of your husband.”

“Much as I hate to admit it, you’re probably right about that. Thank you, Susumu, your advice has been invaluable. I appreciate it.” He really hoped she knew that his appreciation covered the last time she gave him advice as well because he still hadn’t figured out how to say ‘thanks for the sex talk’ and he wasn’t sure he ever would.

Whether she knew or not she did look nod graciously in response to his words.

“Need anything else, sugar?”

“I should get to work, actually. Should I tell Madara about the cookies or are you hoping he only finds them after they’ve gone stale?”

She laughed. “Ehhh wait a day or two and then tell him I left ‘something somewhere’. It’ll drive him nuts. You’re a good kid, Tobirama. A damn good kid. Keep it up, yeah?”

After laying another friendly hit on his arm that would probably bruise heavily she left, blatantly ignoring his grumbles that he had technically been a legal adult for several years now, he was not a ‘kid’. Tobirama eyed the cupboard above their fridge for a few long moments as he considered her suggestions before setting that issue aside to be dealt with when he had more free time to let his thoughts wander.

He did slip the tin back out to snag a cookie for himself before retreating to the office, though. If Madara wasn’t going to enjoy these fresh then someone should, at least.

#rae writes #madatobi #tobirama #madara #butsuma #tajima #hashirama #susumu #fanfiction

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mrs-hatake · 6 years

Text

Stubborn

@truerubberacorn said: Could I request something for Madara Uchiha? :)

Perhaps a gradual fall for Izuna's female best friend? Madara himself never got along with her because of her personality. Stubborn, outgoing, and goofy. They'd butt heads over their shared stubbornness, he finds her obnoxious and immature. The relationship was only there because they both cared for Izuna.

And then came the day that she saved his life from what would've been Tobirama's fatal strike.

Madara finds himself experiencing different kinds of emotions..?

I was thinking fluffy/Angsty/steamy, but whatever you got out of the description works for me!! <3

Requests: OPEN

A/N: hiii!! First of all, thank you so much for requesting! Second, I’m so sorry this took so along. I was busy traveling back home now that I’m done with college and it took me awhile to get over jet lag. Lastly, I’m sorry for the typos or wrong info. It’s been 3 weeks since I’ve finished naruto so my mind’s a bit hazy. Hope you enjoy tho!!

Y/L/N = Your Last Name

Y/F/N = your first name

—————————————————————

“I wouldn’t go if I were you.”

Madara was walking towards the exit road of their small village when he heard that all knowing voice. Looking up, he spotted a smirking girl sitting on a tree bench.

“Y/L/N Y/F/N.” He said your name, “And why shouldn’t I go?” He crossed his arms while looking at You challengingly.

You jumped down and landed gracefully on your feet, “because we’re not meant to interact with the outsiders. We don’t know who they could be.”

The long black haired teen tsked at you. Annoyed that you were right but there’s no way he’s going to let you know that.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He said in faux innocence.

“Well, if you don’t mind, I want to join you.”

“I do mind, actually.”

But his words seemed to fall on deaf ears as you began to march towards the dirt road that led to Madara’s not-so-secret secret hideout. The river.

“I said I do mind!!” He shouted as he ran after you.

“Y/N!” He grabbed onto your shoulder as he turned you around to face him.

“What?” Your eyes widened in mock surprise, “if you’re not meeting anyone, then there’s no reason for me not to join you?”

Madara groaned at you. Not in the mood to start arguing with you. Because once one of you start, you’ll never finish. The both of you were extremely hot headed and once you started arguing, you never stopped. One time, you argued about the animal tracks that were spotted near the woods of the village. He claimed that it was a bear while you claimed it was a wolf. The argument had lasted for three days before both your father’s yelled at you to stop.

“Gosh! You’re so stubborn!!!” Madara grumbled as he watched you grin then turn around and walk along the road that lead to the river.

When you both arrived, the area was vacant save for some birds and bees. The sound of the river flowing was like music to your ears and you walked to the edge with a soft smile playing on your lips.

You didn’t notice Madara’s eyes carefully scanning the area for someone.

“Come, join me. The water is nice.” You called out to the older boy as you removed your sandals and dipped your feet into the clear and slightly cold water, “Ahhh.”

Madara sighed in relief once he noticed that his new friend wasn’t there before he joined you.

Neither of you said anything for quiet a while. The atmosphere was calm, an atmosphere you rarely had the privilege to experience.

“Madara,” you called out softly to the teen.

“Hmmm?” His eyes were focusing on the small koi fish that were swimming around his feet, not noticing the smile that formed on his lips.

“Why do we always fight?”

That question made him bring his head up and look at you.

“What do you mean?”

You shrugged while looking up to the sky, eyes blinded by the bright sun.

“I don’t know. We never got along.”

It was Madara’s turn to shrug before saying, “That’s because you’re not my friend. You’re Izuna’s friend.”

“Then, shouldn’t we get along for Izuna’s sake?”

Madara opened his mouth to retort but closed it because he didn’t know what to say. It’s true. You were Izuna’s childhood best friend. Madara, being his older brother, didn’t spend much time with you. And every time one of you tried to get along, you always clashed and ended up arguing.

Madara supposes that it was because the both of you were passionate yet stubborn who wouldn’t give up because of their pride. Despite not meeting eye to eye, Madara had to admit that the both of you were very similar. Especially with how the both of you cared for Izuna deeply and would die for the boy.

“Yeah, I suppose we should.”

Years later, during the battle between the Uchihas and Senjus, you suddenly heard a chocked cry and when you turned after fatally stabbing a Senju soldier, you were horrified to see Izuna falling down to his knees.

You wanted to rush over to him but couldn’t because you were suddenly surrounded by the other clan members of Senju. Cursing, you took on your enemies with blood streaked cheeks.

In the distance, you could hear Madara screaming his brother’s name.

“Izuna!!!”

You couldn’t see clearly due to the large number of Shinobis that you were fighting, but you could tell that Madara began a fight with Tobirama.

You don’t know how, but, throughout the years. Throughout the many wars and battles, you and Madara had gotten closer. You still argued, but it was mostly out of good fun.

The both of you frequented the river a lot and you were so happy when you’ve met Hashirama. The three of you built a beautiful friendship. But it made you feel guilty lying to Izuna and had to come clean to him after months of lying. The boy had forgiven you but he had also led his father and his men to the river. You were angry at first but were thankful later when you learned that Hashirama was a Senju, the clan who killed your older brother.

You didn’t feel sad when you found about Hashirama’s true identity. But you felt sympathetic towards Madara for he had finally found a true friend of his own.

Madara’s screams of pain brought you back to reality. Stealing a quick glance at the falling man, you quickly finished off the remaining men. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Tobirama walking slowly towards the long haired man.

Your body, without the command of your mind, moved forward. Slow at first before picking up speed until you were running. You closed your eyes as you tried to make it to the two men.

“Y/N!” You heard Madara’s fearful voice.

Opening your eyes, you were standing face to face with Tobirama and inches away from his blade. It was a frightening sight but you held your ground.

“Move.” The white haired man boomed.

“No.” You said firmly.

“Y/N! Go! Save yourself!” Madara said through clenched teeth as the stab wound increased the pain.

“Madara, no!” You turned your head sideways, “I’m not letting this monster kill you!”

“If you won’t move, then I’ll have to kill you both!”

“Y/N, no!”

Madara screamed as he watched Tobirama bring his arm up, ready to strike when a commanding voice halted his movements.

“Enough!!” Everyone turned to face Hashirama, “there shall be no more killing!!”

“Oi, Hashirama!” Tobirama cursed at his older brother.

But the man didn’t care as he made his way towards you.

“Y/N,” he called out to you, eyes gentle and soft, “I’m sorry.” He held out his hand.

You didn’t take it, but your muscles slightly relaxed.

Smiling in understanding, he lowered his hand and turned to face his brother.

“That’s enough, Tobirama.”

“Hashirama! Did you forget who they are?”

Hashirama didn’t, but he was done fighting.

Not being able to win against his brother, the white haired man lowered his blade.

Seeing this, you slowly lowered down and helped Madara up.

Satisfied with the situation, Hashirama faced both clans, “Today is the new day,” he said loudly, “today was the last day of our battles from now on, we unite!”

There were small murmurs of agreements before one by one, everyone lowered down their weapons.

Madara hissed in pain as you dropped your weapon.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” You asked in concern.

Madara shook his head weakly, “No. You saved me.”

You smiled at him brightly once you saw his lips turning upwards.

And just as Hashirama had announced, today was a new day. A day of unity between two clans. And a unity between friends. Madara was confident that he wanted to marry the stubborn childhood friend that saved his life.

#madara imagine #uchiha madara imagine #uchiha madara x reader #madara uchiha imagine #madara uchiha x reader

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ombreecha · 7 years

Text

The Uchiha’s Wife

FF.NET Fandom: Naruto Pairing: SasuSaku Rated: M Summary: She was an otherworldly being of healing. An absolute nymph of spring. He was an otherworldly being of destruction. An absolute god of war. In a world where war makes him death, and chaos she will be the life, and love his people will talk of for years to come. AU x Warring States Period.

C1-C2-C3

Chapter 2 The Uchiha

The air is chilled in the early morning as it has been in the last weeks since their joining and yet nothing is questioned. His clan has welcomed her easily enough and only minor gossip seems to follow her trail after his public performance.

Madara had made it clear not to bed her. Madara seeks for him to have pure children. At first he doesn't not question it. His thoughts are among the same as his leader, but it's within that same notion that he then questions why he had made him wed the creature of spring at all. Why have him take her hand when he would be expected to provide heirs?

He quickly learns from his fellow higher ups days before the upcoming meeting that a Senju had held his eyes on her before she had taken his name.

His marriage was simply another round of politics.

It left a bitter distaste in his mouth, but his village, and his men meant more to him than some freedom of a spring nymph.

There is a stiffness in the air as they are welcomed into a home so far from their own. She trails behind him and he can feel the nervousness that seemingly pours from her being. He know she is not used to attending meetings such as these. There is no doubt though she will continue to adjust and get used to them within time. These would be something she attended alongside him as long as the war continued on.

Her timid fingers brush against his and it's in that brief touch that he shifts his gaze to her as they follow Madara and the maids that welcome them deeper into the house. Those that trail behind her are already accustomed to these meetings, and hold none of her nervousness. Her rose-colored locks are pinned upon her head, and the cheongsam is of a white fading to rich teal with large floral patterns blossoming upon it. The nymph looks elegant in her ways and traditions, but it only furthers to make her stand out among those present.

As they fill the room he cannot help but let his ebony fall upon the boy that stands to protect their host. They are of distant relation—the Hyuuga—and yet he feels no true family bond with this clan. The bond they share is that of allies, nonetheless. The pale of his eyes showcase his linage that could not be disputed. They had fought beside each other enough times that there is recognition within the shared gaze. Neji Hyuuga was strong—there was no disputing it. He was a prodigy in his own rights. The times in which they had, had missions together had always been fruitful, and without much mistake.

Taking his seat his otherworldly wife follows. He notes her eyes looking upon the Hyuuga members that sit at the table, but there is no surprise decorating her features. He notes a whisper from Neji to their host, Hiashi Hyuuga. Moments later the Hyuuga boy has made his way beside his wife. There is a series of hushed whispers between them easily caught by his ears. The interaction is one that gives way to momentary interest.

"It's been long Sakura-san." there was a fondness to his voice that Sasuke had not expected.

"It has Neji-san. I hope you've been in good health." he doesn't need to look at her to know there is a smile—genuine to the core—upon her face as she speaks this.

"I had heard of Sasuke-sama's marriage but did not expect it to be with you."

"Ah, it was a surprise for many, I promise." she speaks with a hint of humor.

The interaction is called to a halt at Hiashi's voice. He calls forth their attention to start their meeting now that all that attend have taken their designated spot at the table. Madara sits at one end, and Hiashi, and his wife at the other. The high ranking members of the Uchiha—Izuna, Obito, Kagami, and himself—sit along one side, whilst the high ranking of the Hyuuga—Ko, Tokuma, Iroha, and Neji—sit along the other. The spouses of the wed are seated properly beside their husbands, but will hold no part in the meeting.

The discussions are intense as they deliberate over possible peace talks with the Senju, and Uzumaki. Hiashi opens the floor to those of high rank to say their thoughts. Hyuuga, and Uchiha alike raise their concerns of what peace could occur with the losses sustained on both sides. There is surprise that the Hyuuga seem to be considering it far more than that of his clansmen, but Madara's word is all it will take to make them agree.

"The possibility of this putting you, and Madara-sama in danger is high." Obito's voice is tight upon the room making them all gaze upon him, "The Senju, and Uzumaki have taken many from our families over their proclaimed ideals of love. Who is to say this talk of peace is not to take you from us as well?"

Sasuke cannot fault his bitterness as he too is among those Obito speaks of. He finds no reason for peace talks. Where were the peace talks as he grew up in this war? Where were the peace talks before his mother and father were slaughtered? The Senju deserved what came their way with their weak sense of ideals, and the robbing of his brother loyalty. The animosity he felt could not be extinguished with such talks.

"We seek to lose even more as it progresses if there isn't an attempt at peace talks." Iroha responds in solemnity.

This only provokes more arguments among those present. Fists are slamming upon the table and voices are raising. He feels his wife startle at the heated debate throughout the table. There is a feeling of certainty that those viridian are shifting to each person's voice as their volumes increases. There is the certainty that if he gazed upon her, her lips would be parted just slightly.

"Sasuke-san, I have yet to hear your feelings." Madara's voice carries the interest it seems the others did not know they possessed and it's in this moment when all of those present quiet to look upon him he takes in a deep breath.

He cannot ignore the call of his leader, and it's here that he takes a fleeting moment to look upon the rose-colored nymph. He questions if she has stopped breathing in her stillness awaiting his answer.

"I leave those decisions to you." his voice is rougher than he intends, but it matters not.

No one but his spring wife is shocked by his response. The sharp inhale she makes is one only he hears. There is tension radiating from her being as if she is sickened by his response.

He cares not.

Arguments erupt through the room once more until Hiashi silences it with the raising of his hand. Madara finally speaks his piece in the matter, "We all will consider the peace talk. I can rest at ease that you will send word to Hashirama-san for further details? Until then nothing has changed. Agreed, Hiashi-san?"

"I will send word out." the leading Hyuuga is content with the agreement reached.

The meeting is dismissed only moments later allowing the intensity of the room to washed away at its dismissal. Madara has taken to conversing with Hiashi into another room. He is sure they are ironing out the details of the agreement made. The maids of the Hyuuga home are quick to serve them food. The hospitality that comes from their ally is expected, and one he is accustom too.

Civil discussion, and war stories are shared throughout the meal. It's quaint and it's peaceful. Sasuke notes the quiet that comes from his wife, but he is sure she is listening intently and digesting the conquests discussed.

It's not until later within the night when he is unable to sleep, and his wife is nestled within the guest room they've been allotted that he is brought company by the Hyuuga boy. They fall as easily into place off the battlefield as they do on it. The conversation is not one he minds, and they share hints of humor.

"I have not run across Naruto-san in a while. It makes me wonder where he has gone into hiding if he is not on the frontline."

There is a grunt that escaped his lips, "He barely escaped our last encounter."

His response only makes the Hyuuga's mouth tilt to a smirk, "It was an encounter with him that made me meet your wife shortly after."

Ebony doesn't bother to shift to the boy as he brings her into the conversation, "Ah."

"She's an excellent healer—kind to a fault. I was surprised to see her present next to your side." He does not bother with a reply as the Hyuuga continues forward, "She healed all regardless of affiliation. It was because of that Toka Senju's son had taken interest in her."

This is nothing he hadn't heard already. He cared little to gain specifics of the Senju all seemed to buzz about when his wife was brought forth. There is the smallest of questions of what transpired between them, and then just as the wind blows softly upon them it is gone from his mind. Trivial matters were of no interest to him.

The conversation has disappeared from them leaving only their footsteps to bring noise to their otherwise quiet walk. It's not long till they find themselves back among the main branches home and those that sleep protectively within it's walls.

Sasuke hopes to find the solace sleep very rarely provides for him. He finds himself taking in the sound of his still sleeping wife as a lull that makes his already heavy lids begin their fall. The breathing is soothing, and only continues to provide an odd sense of comfort that he finds he still needs to adjust to. How long that adjustment will be he doesn't know, but he doesn't question it either.

There is a certain level of distance between them. The distance is small but seemingly far. Then there is this odd sense of closeness that he feels she brings with her presence. It's as though she knows no boundary, and knows of no personal space. Their marriage has only occurred in such a short amount of time, but these moments where they lay beside each other have yet to become something he associates as familiar.

These are the moments when he feels her wrapping herself around him with those pale rose-colored strands. The world contains comfort he has no use for, and no desire to participate in, and yet when those pale strands seemly wrap around his being he finds no will to cut them down. The desire comes quickly though as the world loses it's otherwise bright scenery of spring, and those once soft and coaxing strands now constrict him, and strangle his throat in dark hues of deep rich reds. The dark was not something he feared. The terror of those he had seen come and go in his life are what haunt him. The movement of the enemy upon him as he is forced to allow them to tower over his being without any way to protect himself brings forth an earth shattering anguish is another fear that hides within his dreams.

Glowing viridian is all he can see as his eyelids force themselves open, and his heart quakes in his chest. At what point had they found themselves in this position, and at what point had she deemed it acceptable to wake and tower over him? A moment of silence stills between them. He is desperate to find something—anything—within those ocular glowing orbs of hers to establish if there was an attempt to harm him. Traces of disdain are there, but it's missed some of the luster it had held as they ate, and this only serves to make him uncomfortable. It's with a swallow, and finally a moment that wash away the shell shocked look that had decorated his features. He shifts away from her unable to bare the closeness she consistently seems to bring with her.

"What are you doing?" he spats with no remorse.

Ebony eyes follow the flex that comes to her mouth and her throat as she swallows. There is no fear in her, and she seems to have taken a page from his own book when she refuses to answer something she felt was not important.

Kind to a fault.

He is on his feet in only seconds. He makes no attempt at laying his eyes upon her form as he switches between clothes for rest, and clothes for the day. There is venom resting at the base of his throat that seeks to find its way to her. There is a sluggishness to his movements as he makes to exit the room. Exhausted doesn't begin to explain the feeling that weighs upon him as he seeks to distance himself from her. In passing those from his clan, and out the door he is graced with the brightness of the sun and the gentle warmth it gives to his scalp.

Fingers found themselves upon the spines of books that covered the shelves before her. There is this interest eroding her being to understand and learn more of this unusually cold and ruthless man. It begs to question though if what is hidden among this library is one she is willing to take upon with an open heart. The battle of myth versus reality is constant within her mind over her husband—a man haunted nightmares, and yet a nightmare to others.

Sakura can only take in a breath as she lets her fingers slide off the spine to find it's way back to her side. The briefest shakes of her head follow suit as if to banish the thoughts that plague her. Her steps maintain their solid foundation as she walks from the room, and out into the hallway.

Sasuke—she is sure—is gazing upon his garden, and just as she has thought he is there. The look decorating her is one that digests him, and sizes him as though he is the only one who can rid her of the questions of myth versus reality. This man would rather leave her in a constant state of obscurity. He would not remove these questions that plagued her. The bitterness that had found its way into her everyday life since her marriage sits upon her chest once more.

He knows she is there. He knows she is gazing upon him. He knows she has questions.

Yet, this man would never answer a single one of them. He would keep her questioning, keep her guessing, and keep her forever pondering. His eyes would never gaze upon her she is sure—and the frustration that this union would never give her anything is what she assumes birthed this bitterness.

In this realization she can only let out the deep breath that sat within her lungs through her nose as if it will release the bitterness building in her. Throughout these moments she felt the tug-o-war taking place. Making the best out of this union would be ideal. They did not have to love, and they did not have to care for one another—the days in which she daydreamed of marriage and love coexisting had long since been destroyed the minute she had sat before him.

At no point would she ever consider affection from him a possibility—her mind flashes through memories of the discipline he had released upon the man in the market.

Fingers curled upon the wall—she would not romanticize his display in the market as affection. As much as there had been pride at him defending her there was certainty that he did it simply to quiet any negativity that was produced from their union.

She wanted them to be able to cohabit peacefully.

There is the briefest of noises behind her, and it's here she realizes she is blocking the maid from giving him the tea he must have asked for. Dismissing her is easily done, and since her marriage there is less and less hesitation. The tray is set beside him, and yet even still he does not glance her way.

Taking a place beside him she wonders if this will help her to understand him, and who he is.

This man was no ordinary man. He seemed to play outside of her god's rules. He was beyond that of any man she had ever met. He held no care of who's world he shattered—he had made that clear at the meeting.

If she had not seen him bleed or injured she would have questioned if he was man at all—that is what makes her let out the smallest of noises. The flicker of his eyes to her are brief and it is missed with her longing gaze upon the sky before her not painted in the flames or chaos that others surely see.

There is a moment of solace held in their walk along the village's main path. She had fallen in line with him as she made her way back from outside the village to retrieve a restock of herbs. He had a sheen of sweat across his face as he looked back at her. She can only assume that training has gone well for him.

The walk holds no conversation, and the noise of the village is loud, but pleasant. It floods her with memories from back home in her small quaint village of no importance. The smile that decorates her is genuine, and brings with it a swelling of warmth in her chest.

The momentary swelling is halted when the tiniest of hands have found their way to her husband's obsidian hakama with a pull to garner his attention. The confusion and fear is decorating her at this child's actions, and yet no one pays mind to it not even him. Sasuke has halted his own steps to look upon the child—it's possible curiosity and nothing more she's sure when it seems there will be no punishment. This is where the tales and unanswered questions have led her. It's hard to picture this man giving even the smallest of affections to anyone let alone a child.

The small Uchiha child has finally landed their ebony onto her giving forth a giggle before gazing back up as if completely taken with her husband. Wrapping their tiniest of arms around his leg he nuzzles into Sasuke and it's a sight that catches her off guard, and unprepared.

Warmth swells into her chest as she watches him lift a hand to the child's head and give it an indescribably tender pat. No one around them seems phased by this as if it is common, and yet she feels as if this was the most otherworldly thing her ocular windows had ever taken in since her arrival.

The words of her handmaid are what fill her with this experience. These people looked upon this man with such pride, and such love for all that he seemingly gives while he takes from others in the pursuit of final victory.

Delicate fingers press upon her lips as her other hand grasps the basket tighter in the thought that maybe he is once again not the myth or the tale that weaved itself into her upbringing. Judgment was something she continued to press upon him—had she ever really given this man a chance?

Her throats tightens even more—she continued to put these unspoken expectations forth. He had never had a chance to begin with. She is once again the cruel one, and she is once again reevaluating the disdain the stories of him had created and placing it upon herself—his eyes are on her and she's only now realizing it.

Ebony and viridian hold each other, and it's in the smallest of seconds she wishes to rip her gaze away from him. She is left feeling such disgust for herself for being so closed minded, and so unforgiving for things he has not even done to her.

There is the smallest upraise of his brow and she realizes he is trying to understand what it is that decorates her face, and what has caused it—she can only mentally beg her gods to forgive her inability to be better and asks them for strength to do better.

That lackadaisical attempt that was so utterly him comes in the blink of an eye. There is realization that someone else has captured his attention—Hikaku was his name right?

The child is Hikaku's and with his appearance he brings forth news of departure. This is but a reminder of the war that sits just beyond these walls, and outside these homes. Viridian can only look upon the dirt path they walk on.

That's right. This man was not an ordinary man. He held no care of who's world he shattered—his had already been shattered when his mother and father had left the world of the living.

He had made that so undeniably clear when he had voiced his indifference at the meeting she had sat upon in the argument of peace, and even in this surprising moment of tenderness to a child that was something she needed to remember first and foremost.

Bitterness—it's what she feels when that reminder did not shift the disdain back to him but instead settles upon herself even more.

His next mission is given, and it is only hours later that he leaves her.

This time the disdain is only subtle as she nods her farewells along with her handmaid.

There is the hint of fear laced in her subtle disdain for him within the viridian windows of her being. While he did not know what made her fear him he found no qualms with its presence. Fear would keep their lines from crossing and the distance between them sound. It provided him with relief at seeing her hold such feelings towards him. There had been the briefest of confusion she had given him within the village. It had made him intrigued by her outward display. He could not understand what had decorated her features though. Something had made her displeased within the village. There was what he could only gauge as hatred, but it had not been towards him—he would not dwell on it now and he wouldn't dwell on it later.

His men are amused and chatting behind him as they make their way to the next battle. They are there to provide relief for others, and give them time to regroup before taking another village from the Senju. He has longed for battle since his last mission. Battle spoke to him in wonderful whispers. Battles gave him the ability to bring honor to his fallen mother and father.

Honor was the bare minimum he would bring them in their deaths.

They had deserved so much better, and so much more. They were not bad people. They were not cruel people. His mother was the ever constant warmth of his world. His father was stern and strict but held all the loyalty one could ever ask for.

The Senju deserved it when he slaughtered their men, and warrior children. They deserved it when he slammed his blade into their gut and ripped it out without remorse. They deserved the fire he brought with the inhale of air that filled his lungs. They deserved the brutality of his fingers laced with lightning piercing their armor and dragging their hearts from the cage that protected them.

The one he thought would surely come to the fight still had not, and it only meant that they never had stood a chance against the power that was the Uchiha clan. The Hyuuga was right in what he had said—Naruto was missing and it only meant that this battle would come with ease after a few rounds, and a few pushes.

Relief is what they provide to those who have fought hard and given all they can to their cause. They will give them time to breath, and time to take in healing from the medics that put their lives on the line. The men who had been sent out before him, and the warrior children of both sides litter the ground, and yet this is nothing new for him. He had been a child of war himself. Age meant nothing in this almost decade long fight.

There's an art through the air, and with it a reaction from himself. The current of electricity is loud and chirps with delight along his fingers before finding itself inside that of the enemy. His men are rushing forward to produce their own arts, and the air is filled with the stench of blood and death.

Retreat from the opposing side is all that keeps them from pushing forward hours in. The battle will resume shortly he is sure, and in that time they only need to regroup and stand firm with their newly acquired hold upon this village.

The battle to come though had not been what he had expected. Little had prepared him for the terrible victory that he would grasp in this battle. Little had he realized he would come face to face with the very one who had sought to obtain her.

Toka Senju's son was recognizable in moments. There was no way to dispute who stood before him. There was the glare cast upon him, and the sneer solely for him placed upon the Senju's lips. There was a clash and the attempt to render this man under his genjutsu. This man fought with all the rage that he worked to maintain and keep from exploding. This man fought as though he had been robbed of something with unbelievable value. There was understanding in that. He too had been robbed of something with unbelievable value.

There is a moment in which he misjudges an attack, and he feels his arm snap, there is a moment where he has gritted his teeth in keeping the pain from eating him alive, and then there is his blade piercing the Senju's shoulder.

Blood is splattered, and howls of hysteria are what echo through the days that transpire. He questions the sanity of the man who comes for him at every opportunity. The Senju does not allow his men to aid him in trying to end his life. The Senju is an absolute fool—a child throwing a tantrum.

He seeks nothing more than to ram his blade into the beating heart of the one who continues to come for him in personal hatred. He would teach this man—no this child—what happened when you brought personal feelings into the land of chaos and war.

He was a god of war. An otherworldly being of destruction.

He, Sasuke Uchiha, was truly cruel.

Hurt, battered, and slightly broken he does not allow them to take him to the clinic. He demands his bed, and his comrades equally bloody, and battered comply with his selfish desires. She is there in the doorway. Her face decorated in wide doe-eyes and glowing viridian shock as she takes in the sight of her husband. The swallow that follows is pained. She is upon them immediately shouting orders, and demanding her handmaid gather more servants to assist in retrieving supplies.

She takes care of him first, mending his flesh, cleaning out the dirt, and grime that has settled into his wounds. Hisses falls from her lips as she forces out the growing infection, and sticks her fingers into his worse wounds in an attempt to get inside of him deeper. Endless ebony falter back and forth to the deep rich red of his sharingan has he watches her work on him between moments of blurred vision. He has bit into his tongue at the sharp pain of her mending and healing.

He questions if she is killing him, and he questions why he is allowing her to do so.

His vision settles into a seemingly permanent blurred state and begins to descend into black as he is sure she has just broken his arm unsatisfied with her original adjustment all within the aim of aligning it correctly. The pain to much to bare. He mentally begs for it all to end, and continues to curse her for killing him.

This woman. This nymph of spring would be his end.

He was sure of this.

It's almost as if only moments have passed since he has faded from the world of the living and yet he awakes with confusion decorating his features sluggishly. He finds the familiar ceiling above his head and groggily turns to find his comrades beside him in similar states of recovery.

The birds outside his garden just beyond his bedroom door are loud and are singing forth what he can only assume is a new day. He feels a hand lay upon his shoulder. Izuna's features flood his no longer blurred vision. He sees the words forming on his mouth. He knows there is sound coming forth and yet the birds are so loud he cannot hear them.

It digests that the Uchiha has requested he not move in his state, and then he feels the steps taken shortly after on the vibrate upon tatami below him. Time seems to stand still only for his vision to become obscured by rose-colored strands as her face comes into view. He takes note of her exhaustion, of the specks of blood he questions if she does not know paint her milky complexion, her rose-colored strands bare the same only in larger doses in their shattered state around her, and then there are her hands coming to lay upon him. Her nails hold dry blood under them as her hands glows and the warmth that he has come to recognize as completely her envelopes him to ease the throbbing pain he had yet to notice until this moment.

He feels himself slip within the warmth as if being submerged into an endless river. It's cool, and satisfying, and likely to drown him. It has dulled the harsh throbbing pain he had only come to notice before her fingers flowed upon him.

It's not until he awakens again that he starts to question the span of time. His the throbbing pain is still there as a mocking reminder of how far he has gone in his battle against the Senju, but it has eased considerably. He wonders if it was her who had caused this ease.

She is there as he struggles to sit up, and urgency to clear his lungs. He stops himself from doing so bringing fingers to not wrapped and bound to his chest. This woman is pressed against the door that leads to the garden he took joy in. The soft sounds of her deep within sleep flow from her chest filling the air as he watches it rise and fall. Her kimono is torn, and caked in blood. The article of clothing is in complete ruin, and it appears she has not attended to herself. He assumes he hasn't been out for long.

He would find out later he was so very wrong. He would find out later she hadn't slept days into his return. He would find out later that he would grow irritated with these actions.

He would find out later that this woman who felt so much disdain for him would go to great lengths keeping him alive.

Even for someone she surely felt should die.

The man who had come to visit her before her much celebrated marriage had entered her home in hearing of her husband and comrade's fatal status. The sight of Sasuke bleeding out, and possibly damaged beyond repair haunted her when she closed her eyes.

The fear she had held at seeing him like that had shaken her foundation of him once again. This terrible beyond words, and cruel man was just that a man. It had taken him in such a half dead state to remind her of this, and the regret she held for never realizing it shifted more disdain onto herself. Disdain would be her downfall. Sorrow would fill her heart in knowing that he had never been the cruel one between them. It had all been her. All of that cruelty was hers to bare.

The blood that had long since dried days ago under her fingernails brings back the vivid memory of how far she had gone to make sure he did not leave the world of the living.

Izuna had been there to help command the maids, and bring forth more medics to assist in the treatment of her husband and his team. The gratitude she expresses is overflowing as she gets on her hands and knees uttering it over and over again after the worst of it all has past.

The sight of her is pathetic, and pitiful but she cannot—will not—back down from expressing such deep heavyhearted gratitude.

He waves her off in that strangely formal way of his. Stoic in nature and yet she feels unbelievable warmth when he tells her to now take care of herself. Viridian finally remove themselves from the tatami mats beneath her and find their way to his. The tears that had been threatening to spill finally make their way down her face.

Had he known her true feelings toward her husband she is sure he would not be so kind, and yet she feels completely bare to him when their eyes connect. It pushes her to want to feel more towards her husband, and not be the shameful excuse of a wife she knows she is at the heart of this marriage.

It is in this moment that she becomes determined to give more to her husband. This moment here is where she makes a promise to be a proper wife to him. She would support him properly. She would care for him properly. The complex feelings she holds towards her husband will be rebuilt. The difference in ideals now felt so very petty and insignificant. The difference in their hearts would no longer stand between them. This perception of him would be shattered glued back together with an open mind and open heart.

"You need rest, Sakura-san."

The warmth still exists in his voice as if he has heard her silent promise to give more, and be more. It is here though that she shakes her head not caring how much farther it will lower her in his gaze. Her husband's team still needed her now. Her husband still needed her in these moments. She would stay by his side regardless of the strain it would put on her body and mind.

"I will stay by his side."

It is no longer that a simple moment of time between them before he gives a nod and finds his way out from their home. Sakura sees him out giving one more heavyhearted thank you. He has not tried to stop her from pushing herself beyond her limits, and she finds it makes her heart swell that he has allowed her this privilege to not follow his intended orders.

Whispers filled his home of tales of his wife's healing abilities showing their true power when needed most. It's not until weeks later after they had died down that as he sits with Izuna, and Hikaku over discussions concerning the war, and what he has missed while in recovery that he finally can hear those long dead whispers in a clear voice.

"Your wife could not bare to leave your side as you recovered. She did not sleep or leave your side in days." Izuna's warm voice comes to his ears.

He takes the time to gaze upon the fellow Uchiha with such an uncharacteristic warmth coating his statement. He does not follow through with a comment as Izuna continues forward, "She had forgotten herself completely in your state."

It's here that Hikaku speaks, "I would like to properly thank your wife for my recovery, Sasuke-sama".

Ebony met upon ebony at such a request, and a simple nod was all he could give. It made no difference to him if his comrade thanked his wife for her medical treatment. She was no concern of his.

Agitation is all he could feel in hearing Izuna's claims. Why this woman had fought so hard to keep him alive is beyond him.

That thought would not change even as as he caught her that evening watching the end of day sun grace his home with it's painted hues as it brought with it the peace that came with night. She was seated so calmly as she looked out upon his, no their, garden.

"Sakura."

He questioned if this was the first time he had said her name. He did not find the taste of her name familiar to his tongue. It was so very foreign, and so very light.

Endless ebony met those trademark viridian. He found his steps strong as he came to her side. He did not sit with her choosing to stand beside her. Running his free unbound hand through his long ebony locks he takes in the sight that her eyes adore before her.

"Your. . .friend?" she seemed unsure if she had established who she was referring to correctly, "Thanked me earlier for treating him."

He did not look to her, "Ah."

"Are you in any pain?"

He refused to answer such a thing. She was far beyond what Madara had said. She had transcended what he had assumed of her skill. She was far more than he had realized.

He would be out of his sling soon because of this.

"Did you kill him?" her fingers found their way into her hair fluffing it as if she was discussing the weather.

"No." the answer sent resentment through him.

Sasuke had failed to deliver the final blow to the Senju that had taken fancy to her. When they had met on the battlefield it had been nothing personal. There was recognition and disdain on the Senju's part, but he, he had not made this personal. She did not influence his battles—no she influenced Toka's son's battles.

"I see." she murmured softly as her fingers found the cloth of his pants around his ankle, "Please. . ." her voice was too soft, and too low. He was sure he would have missed it if he had not looked down to her when she had grabbed him, "Be more careful."

"You're annoying."

To understand her husband had filled her with renewed purpose, and it is in those moments when he leaves her to her own devices that she longs for tales of her new family, and of her husband through the hearts and eyes of those closest to him. She seeks to stare upon her husband as that child in the market had.

Taking every chance, and every opportunity she could to learn all that there was to be known about Sasuke Uchiha filled her life with pride. There was a longing to know and understand him better than anyone, and she knew in having that she would also become the proper wife this man needed.

The handmaid has tales of his youth. The child like innocence her husband once held makes her heart want to burst. There was a Sasuke Uchiha she would never meet, and yet just hearing of him in such a time makes her heart swell. These stories carry words of a sibling that she has never heard of before and unspoken questions formulate within her. There is desire to ask of where this sibling is. She doesn't though when she notes the almost pained smile upon the maids lips.

Izuna's visit to see her husband allows her the opportunity to learn of the Sasuke Uchiha on the battlefield. The tales of his raw power and his effortless control of fire, and lightning make her eyes light up with curiosity and make her want to witness such things in person. It makes her long to see what they have seen.

The archives she tracks down in the library give her the chance to read during meetings that do not call for her. It gives her a much better understand of who his people—no, no they are her people as well—are and what it is they fight for. The ideology clash she finds is complex and she realizes that while she disagrees with their ways and thoughts she will protect their hopes beside him.

Knowledge of him, and their clan is not all that she throws herself into.

Sakura Uchiha will do more.

The maids at first are unsure of how to handle her in the kitchen, and her constant requests to teach her their dishes. His absences help her to better herself so that she can serve him food that will make him seek to return home.

Sakura finds herself lessening her disdain for herself as she pushes herself. If her husband can bring protection then she can provide a home for him to return to with love, and warmth. He brings their people victory and success with the cruelest of methods and she will provide them with gentle affection and recovery when they return.

In a world where war makes him death, and chaos she will be the life, and love his people will talk of for years to come.

The wives of his closest of comrades, and those high ranking under him come with even more opportunity to learn she finds. They first find her amusing with expectations that she is halfhearted, and it is only after constant attempts from the spring wife that they learn her determination is not fleeting. The respect she gains from them brings her respect among others in their village. Gratitude is expressed from them after every check up she provides on their husbands. They have grown to trust her in a way she did not think she would be able to obtain when this marriage of hers had started.

Hikaku's wife has become the one she bonds with the most. This woman is what she can only hope to become. The love in her voice, and the unbelievable rawness that flows from her as she speaks of her husband is one Sakura longs to possess when speaking of Sasuke.

The spring wife finds herself unable to stop what comes from her mouth as they sip tea in Hikaku's home, "I find myself envious of your strength and devotion to your husband."

The soft features that paint over the ebony haired woman makes Sakura's heart flutter as she tells of something she had not expected.

"The Uchiha love far deeper than anyone else."

#ssfanfiction #sasusaku fanfiction #sasusaku fanfic #ssfanfic #sasusaku #ombree:fics #ombree:theuchihaswife

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raendown · 4 years

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Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 4026 Chapter: 32/42 Summary: Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. Some are fought at the conference table, with whispers in the shadows, or even in the bedroom.

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Chapter 32

Getting their things together for a trip that would take them out of the village for more than a week mostly consisted of Tobirama running here and there to find people who were willing and able to cover his work. If he were to leave for any sort of emergency they would have had to cover him anyway but it was always best for good relations to give people a little forewarning. Madara noticed that his husband hadn’t seemed to take any time for packing but when he questioned it he nodded approvingly to know that Tobirama still had an away bag ready to go in the back of their closet. He himself had fallen out of the habit, what with him not being sent out of the village very often.

None of the most high profile from either clan were sent out often, he had realized. It wasn’t something he’d taken much notice of before now but once the idea was there it was hard to shake. Butsuma and Tajima spent so much time accusing each other of giving preferential treatment to their respective clans they probably didn’t realize they were doing the same. Or perhaps it was on purpose. Whatever the reason, Madara wondered if he should try to subtly find his way out on more missions from here on. It wouldn’t do for the lower ranks to see them cowering behind walls and sending others to do their dirty work for them.

By the time they actually left home a few days later Madara didn’t feel much calmer about the entire ordeal of his demotion. He did feel slightly vindicated though. Once Tajima caught wind of the situation their row had been utterly spectacular, clearly heard from three streets away where Madara and Tobirama sat ensconced in a quaint little teashop hiding their smiles behind soothing chamomile. In the end it was decided that he was not to be given his previous work back since to overturn Butsuma’s decision was deemed too great an insult by the council at large. He was, however, given an entirely new project to head that had been in the works since the village was formed.

A police force. The very idea felt strange in his mouth but it was a good idea. Once he figured out where the original concept had come from he had congratulated his husband, ignoring a new flash of guilt that he was apparently being given yet another pet project that Tobirama had come up with only to have taken away.

Even getting started with plans for this new police force would have to wait, however, as Madara sent one last look over his shoulder at the village he now called home. He was scowling dismissively when he turned to face forward again.

“You’re looking cheerful this morning,” Tobirama told him sarcastically.

“This is still complete bullshit. Although I guess it’s nice to know we won’t have anyone else’s drama to deal with for at least a week.”

“Ah. That is true.”

Madara's scowl lessened slightly as the path curved around a copse of trees, knowing that Konoha would be officially out of sight behind them, though a little distance was hardly enough to take the sting out of the insults he would have to bear for the next several days. If being compared to Izuna wasn’t bad enough – if being found wanting wasn’t bad enough – he would now have to sit in the capital on his best behavior and accept accolades that were not his own. Not even having Tobirama with him was likely to help keep him from feeling like he was covered in a layer of grime.

Just like not even Tobirama’s company was enough to keep his mood from spiraling back down more and more with every step towards what would already have been a boring week even if it had been to celebrate his own efforts. Obviously he was thrilled he would get to spend some time with his husband uninterrupted by their families or nosey teachers or work duties. It really was in some ways going to be like the honeymoon they’d had neither the chance nor inclination to go on when they first tied the knot. But from the limited number of times Madara had met the Daimyo before he’d gotten the impression that anything happening in the upscale fairyland world all nobles lived in would be long and drawn out. He strongly suspected they were facing hours upon hours of boring speeches and demonstrations of unimpressive skills that all shinobi could outstrip at a young age, expected to applaud and compliment each performance even though none of it was in Madara's honor.

Try as he would, none of Tobirama’s attempts to start a conversation worked to distract Madara from his worsening mood. Izuna would have told him he was on the verge of another temper tantrum and although Madara could feel it happening he could do nothing to stop the cascade of his own emotions. He was almost grateful to be interrupted two hours in to their journey. Between one step and the next he was halted by a hand on his arm, both of them tensing immediately.

“Several unknown signatures to the east, high level except for one underdeveloped.”

“Jōnin level?” Madara asked, cheered ever so slightly by the grateful surprise in Tobirama’s eyes.

“Well at least someone has been learning the new ranking system. Yes, all but one appear to be jōnin. The last I would guess to be a child. Killing intent present.”

Madara concentrated and reached out with his own senses. “Do you know that it’s sort of annoying how you can sense these things without trying? It’s still within my range but I have to actually be looking to see something that far away.”

“Yes I’ve been told on many occasions how annoying I am,” Tobirama answered cheekily. “Shall we investigate? You look like you could use an excuse to let off some steam.”

No further convincing was needed. With his teeth bared in a feral grin he turned and led the way himself, both of them dampening their chakra as they went so as not to attract attention. If it turned out their intervention wasn’t necessary there was no point in terrifying some poor convoy from a friendly nation delivering messages or goods. Should they happen upon a patrol fighting off bandits and see they were needed then they would simply go on their way without interfering.

Luckily for Madara's temper, that was not what they found. The scene they came upon was the exact sort of thing that he’d thought died out with the generation before his father. Child hunting squads had fallen out of favor in recent generations as each clan finally came to realize that what goes around comes around and they were only losing their only children to the same dirty practice. Now it looked like someone had taken up old habits. The girl could not have been more than three or four years old, dressed well enough to mark her as the child of a very prominent family, and the only reason her screams were not filling the woods for a five mile radius was the strip of black cloth tied over her mouth. Her eyes were wide and terrified as she watched the last of her retainers get cut down by a man in shoddy armor of no particular denomination.

“I’ve got this,” Madara grunted.

The fact that Tobirama actually respected that and stayed behind barely registered as Madara threw himself forward, wishing it would have been appropriate to bring his gunbai on a diplomatic envoy. All he had on him was a few kunai but that was more than enough. In fact that gave him better opportunity to get in close and engage each of these child-napping bastards personally while Tobirama flashed in to spirit the child away.

From the first punch he landed in some bitch’s throat Madara felt a welcome cathartic release he’d only ever found in battle. Was it mentally sound that he found taking lives to be relaxing? Probably not. Did he care? Very much not. That mattered so much less than the satisfaction of driving his blade in to a man’s eye socket and spinning to kick another in the chest, stopping himself from being impaled on a naginata even longer than the one Touka favored. It had been too long since he’d been able to enjoy the thrill of a proper battle rather than the carefully tempered blows of a spar or katas practiced alone. Watching another body drop was like falling back in to old patterns on sheer muscle memory alone, entirely undeterred by the fact that his blows didn’t have quite the impact they might have if he had the chance to come out and hone his skills a little more often. They were still deadly at least and that was all the counted. He really would need to see about getting back in to mission rotation. This was fun.

Ducking underneath another swing of the same naginata, Madara twisted and threw one of his kunai in the same movement to catch another of his opponents in the chest, his lips twisting when he saw her dodge just enough that the injury was not a fatal one. She staggered and came towards him again but Madara flowed with the dance of battle to catch her attack on those of the naginata. He very nearly laughed out loud when both of them growled in frustration. That was good. Frustrated opponents were always the sloppiest.

Except for desperate ones. But desperate people were also usually the most dangerous as well.

One hand steadying the blade lodged in the front of her shoulder, sadly not stupid enough to just pull it out, the woman very carefully stepped back to regroup and used her injured arm to make a hand sign. Madara disengaged from his current fight to kick her hands apart but not before the earth itself began reaching out to trip him up with a dozen hands all pulling at his ankles and his clothing. None of them were particularly hard to shatter, all it took was a single kick or a swipe of his hand, but it was enough of a nuisance that he decided against drawing this out.

Ending the battle was as easy as drawing the woman close enough to rip the kunai out of her flesh himself and drive it right back in where he’d meant to strike her heart in the first place then disarming his final opponent and beheading the man with his own naginata. A quick ending for a quick battle.

In the aftermath Madara gave a moment’s thought to keeping the blade but ultimately dropped it carelessly on the fallen bodies at his feet as he surveyed the damage he had wrought. Satisfaction rolled through him to see the spattered blood and occasional bit of innards around the clearing, much calmer now that he’d had a chance to vent himself violently without fearing of hurting those who were dear to him. With absolutely no tension left in his body he turned back to his husband – and cringed to see the single survivor with her tiny head pressed in to Tobirama’s chest to block her view of what he was doing.

“Ah, is she, uh, alright?” Hopefully he hadn’t scarred her any deeper than watching her retainers be slaughtered before her eyes had already done. Thankfully Tobirama didn’t look too upset. Actually he looked a little star struck if Madara were to pick a word for the look in those pretty red eyes.

“She didn’t see anything, I made sure of that, and you were…most efficient.” Even his husband’s voice sounded admiring, encouraging Madara to puff his chest out a little to soak up the praise.

“Let’s get her away from here.”

Tobirama nodded, still watching his every move with a thrilling sort of hunger in his eyes, and secured the child a little more tightly in his arms so he could turn and dash far enough away that the sight and smell of so much blood was out of range for even their own senses. When he set her down she sobbed wildly and reached for him again in the way of a frightened young one clinging to the only bastion of safety they can see. His entire face softened as he patted her back soothingly, rubbing small circles and speaking nonsense assurance for the ten or so minutes it took for the worst of her storm to pass.

By no means was she calm when they were finally able to get her to talk. She’d just witnessed death; even the young from their own clans were never calm after their first battlefield experience. She wasn’t screaming anymore though and she was verbal enough to speak through her wracking sobs to help them understand what had happened.

“I want my mommy!” were her first words and Madara chewed on the inside of his cheek awkwardly.

“Where is your mother?” Tobirama asked her gently, not even wincing when she wailed again.

“I want my mommy! I want to go home!”

“Do you know where you live? Is it far from here?”

“Home!”

Getting answers from the tiny thing was about as hard as getting answers from any frightened toddler. It took asking every question several times in several different ways to get any information but Tobirama remained patient through it all and Madara was still riding the wave of catharsis from venting his frustration on a bunch of child-napping meat bags so they were both able to stay calm for her. Eventually they managed to get the story out in pieces until they understood that she had been stolen from her home in the capitol and the ‘bad men’ kept telling her that she was better alive, a clear case of snatch and ransom if Madara had ever seen one.

When they finally let her stop talking she had cried so much she all but fainted in Tobirama’s arms after agreeing to take a sip from his canteen. He had barely settled her head in a more comfortable position before he looked up with a look that took very little to decipher.

“You want to take her with us,” Madara deduced.

“We’re already travelling that way. She’s a civilian child, it’s not like she can make it there on her own.”

“She wouldn’t make it anywhere really.” Rolling his eyes as though agreeing only with great reluctance, Madara threw up his hands. “Alright, fine, let’s bring her along. I wouldn’t want you staying up at night because we left her alone in the woods or something.”

He was tearing off a clump of moss from a nearby tree to wipe his hands on and clean off his blades when he heard Tobirama muttering, “Yes because I’m the only one who would be kept up at night.” He chose to ignore it. If he had a soft spot for children that was clearly his own business.

The whole detour hadn’t exactly taken a large chunk out of their expected travel for the day, more time spent on getting answers from a sobbing child than erasing the idiots who had kidnapped her. It didn’t take long to get back on track and she wasn’t much extra weight to two shinobi with chakra enhancing their every movement. Even after she woke up and had a small meltdown all it took was calming her down enough to explain that they were taking her home and she was able to stay tightly wound about Tobirama’s neck while he traveled, still sniffing and wildly traumatized by the violence she’d seen but docile compared to the panic most people in her circumstances would exhibit.

After such an eventful start the rest of the day’s travel went smoothly according to plan. Their little addition didn’t attract much extra attention; many of the small groups they passed on their way had children with them as well and since Madara had taken the time to clean himself of blood they didn’t look like anything but fellow travelers. For lunch they stopped and ate on the side of the road with an older gentleman who didn’t say much. When evening came around they had originally intended to get a room in one of the tiny villages they passed through but with precious cargo riding with them now they decided it was safer to make camp in a cave where the security would be easier to control.

What they found had obviously been a den at some point. It was the perfect size for three bodies to sleep out of the weather and still have enough room to build a fire near the front so the smoke wouldn’t suffocate them. Dinner was a hot pot of whatever vegetation they were able to gather while looking for a safe place to bed down for the night. It turned out that Tobirama was clever enough to carry a scroll with all sorts of extras in case of emergencies, one of which was a bowl for the little girl to eat from now that she had finally stop crying.

“You look slightly more cheerful than before,” Tobirama mentioned once they were all seated together with a bowl of stew. “And I actually mean that this time.”

“I choose not to find that offensive,” Madara grumbled. He even found it in himself to enjoy it when the other laughed.

“Very big of you.”

Sticking his nose in the air got him nothing more than a bit of quiet laughter and a curious glance from the little girl between them. Madara hurried to distract. “I can’t help but be in a decent mood after doing such a good deed. Admittedly I’m a bit surprised that you didn’t try to jump in and help no matter what I said.”

“You had things well handled from what I could tell and one of us needed to watch out for this little one.” As he spoke Tobirama looked down at their guest, who shrank away for a moment before perking up.

Now that she was calm she was a cheerful thing. The elasticity of children and her very young age meant that she was able to bounce back from her trauma – or perhaps that she hadn’t actually understood the true gravity of what happened before. Neither of them wanted to delve too deep in to her psyche as temporary guardians, that sort of thing was better left for when they were able to send her on back to whichever noble family she had been taken from. They would be able to provide much better care for her.

With a very tiny smile she lifted her spoon to show Tobirama a bit of her soup and then swooped it in to her mouth with an exaggerated yummy noise like one would use to convince a fussy child to try a bite of something. She waited for him to nod in approval and clap his hands very gently to smile wider, immediately digging for more soup. It was an adorable little exchange that Madara was loathe to interrupt. He ended up waiting until they had all eaten their dinner to pick up any further conversation. The girl was allowed to roam curiously about their little campsite, picking up rocks and playing with twigs, and both of them kept one eye on her as they settled together against the back wall.

“Not how I thought our so-called honeymoon would go. Kids do come after marriage but I don’t remember adopting any.” Madara shoved Tobirama’s knee with his own to make it clear he was jesting and received a light shove in turn.

“We could release her in to the wild if you think your conscience could handle it,” Tobirama offered with one eyebrow lifted knowingly. It was worryingly reminiscent of Susumu-sensei.

“I will have you know that I am a hardened warrior without a heart and could not care less. Oi! Careful over there, you almost hit your head!”

“You were saying something about…not caring?”

Madara looked away from where the girl was now inspecting the rock overhang she had almost crashed in to, crossing his arms. “Just because I didn’t let her hurt herself does not mean I care. About her. I care about other things.”

“Oh? Anything Interesting?” The jerk twitched his lips up in a way Madara recognized as a smirk. Very unappreciated.

“Look, I don’t need all this attitude. I let you take her with us didn’t I? So I let you do what you wanted; maybe you should let me do what I want now. And since there’s no one else around you have no excuse to stop me from doing this either.” He lunged one hand over to weave their fingers together, taking a firm grip in case Tobirama tried to pull away on reflex. Except he did nothing of the sort. With a smile his husband leaned over just close enough to grace his cheek with a soft kiss – after making sure the little girl was not watching them of course.

“What possible reason could I have to not want this?” he asked and Madara had to fight back a blush. That was not the expected reaction.

“I don’t know,” Madara floundered. “Inherent dickheadedness? Shut up! Go play with your new kid!”

Even as he said it he held tighter to the fingers in his grasp, grateful when all Tobirama did was laugh and settle a bit closer against his side. Which was nice. Of course, it didn’t last for long since the little girl came squealing over a few moments later because she had pricked her finger, blindly trusting in Tobirama to deal with the splinter now lodged under her skin. As softly as he might handle his own precious Kagami, perhaps even softer, Tobirama gathered the mite in to his arms and settled her across his lap where he could inspect her finger and gently explain how he would get it out. She hung on to his every word with tearful eyes so empty of duplicity it ached.

Watching the two of them was bittersweet in a gentle way, like a window in to a possible future if he and Tobirama ever decided they did want to adopt children of their own. For all the fearsome reputation his husband had and the expressionless face he showed to the rest of the world he certainly looked like nothing more than a doting father as he soothed the tiny wound with a spark of chakra and slid the splinter out with ease.

Something warm and pleasant spread out through Madara's chest as he gave that little tangent a little more thought. Him and Tobirama sitting together on the engawa behind their home while little feet scampered around the backyard. Growing old together as they watched their children grow and surpass them. Building the village more and more with every year until they passed it on to the next generation, still holding hands under the table when they met with Hashirama and his wife for afternoon tea.

His little daydream was punctured when the girl squealed with laughter; Tobirama had apparently taken his distraction as a chance to engage in tickle games, of all things. Madara stared at the two of them with wonder in his eyes and thought to himself that he couldn’t believe he was so lucky to have this is his life.

And then his heart shuddered to a stop in his chest. It was such an ordinary moment, nothing he would have ever thought to cast in his memory for the rest of his life, and yet that was the moment when Madara looked at his husband and felt as though he were truly seeing what he had before him. He looked at Tobirama playing with a little child they picked up on the side of the road, smiling without a care in the world, and he thought…

Oh. I’m in love.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #fanfiction

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raendown · 4 years

Link

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 4121 Chapter: 21/? Summary: Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. Some are fought at the conference table, with whispers in the shadows, or even in the bedroom.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Chapter 21

It would be an understatement to say that Tobirama was in a bad mood after he left home that evening. One moment it felt as though his entire life was finally falling in to place and the next there was Izuna with his stupid face and his stupid attitude getting in the stupid way. He was already steaming when he made it to Hashirama's house. Seeing his brother with both lips wrapped around the top of a bottle of nihinshu, pouring it straight back down his throat like an animal with not a single dish in sight, did nothing to improve that.

“Are you kidding me right now?” Tobirama demanded. “Where is your wife?”

“She’s gone over to enjoy some lady time with Touka.” Hashirama grinned sheepishly and hurried to put the bottle down, probably hoping he wouldn’t get yelled at for having such poor manners.

Tobirama considered it. On a normal day he would have immediately started in on a lecture about how to properly enjoy one’s nihinshu, possibly started another lecture on why they both knew Hashirama should not having been guzzling away at that bottle so quickly. This was not a normal day, however, and he was not in a very normal kind of mood.

“Pour me a glass.”

Hashirama paused to study his face. Then he was leaping off the couch and hustling through the kitchen to fetch a pair of dishes.

Very quickly they were both flopped on opposite ends of the same spacious couch they had grown up on with glasses of alcohol in their hands and two bottles balanced on a small tray between them. One might think that Hashirama's bouncy personality would make this a terrible idea but alcohol actually had quite a mellowing effect on him. It was the easiest way to tell he was backsliding in to the bottles again.

Really Tobirama shouldn’t be encouraging him by partaking in such a bad habit but with Mito around he trusted that his brother had few enough opportunities to indulge that it wasn’t likely to become a habit again in the way it once had. One evening of letting them both have a bit of leeway wouldn’t kill anyone. And if it came with the added benefit of getting his mind off things and helping him calm down enough that he no longer felt like marching back home to strangle Izuna with his own bare hands, well, that was exactly what he needed.

“I thought you seemed like you were having a really good day earlier,” Hashirama noted hesitantly after they were both a few cups in.

“Yes, I was. And then my brother-in-law happened.”

“Ah. Yeah. Both of Mito’s sisters make me feel the same way.” He nodded and raised a glass in solidarity and then tossed the whole thing back in one go.

Draining his own and immediately reaching for a refill, Tobirama grunted. “Well at least you don’t live in the same city as your extended family. I live down the street from Izuna. And for that matter close to Tajima as well. Do you know how glad I am that neither of them are more interested in coming over for family dinners?”

He was almost glad to see his brother shiver in solidarity.

What he was not glad to see was the bottom of his bottle only a half hour later. Tingles had already taken over most of his body but that wasn’t nearly as drunk as he would have preferred to be at the moment and the more he drank the more he found he wanted. For the first time in his life he was glad of Hashirama's habit for excess.

“I know!” his brother announced without moving from the corner he’d wedged himself in to. “We could go downtown! Mito always says it’s not a good idea for me to go look at any of the bars that have opened in the marketplace but it’s fine with you there, right? It’s fine!”

“Of course. Yeah. I’ll keep you in line.” Tobirama nodded very seriously to himself, ignoring the little voice in the back of his head that noted he himself probably couldn’t walk a straight line at the moment.

“Fun! Let’s go!”

“You haven’t moved, Anija.”

“Oh I’m sure I’ll get there eventually.”

He had to pull Hashirama of the couch and find both of their shoes but eventually they did make it out the front door. Neither of them had ever visited any of the drinking establishments Konoha had to offer so it was a bit of a struggle trying to find them once they finally made it in to the market district but the first one they spotted had bright lights to draw them in and a pretty young girl at the counter to draw Hashirama's attention while Tobirama ordered a round of drinks.

Which was, of course, a challenge all on its own. His vision had never been the absolute best and so much alcohol had made it even fuzzier so he wasn’t entirely sure he was reading the prices right on the sign behind the bartender. A quick glance around the establishment showed most people drinking from what seemed to be beer bottles but he himself had only ever partaken in rice or plum wines.

In the end he just asked for whatever the person next to him was having and handed over enough coins to leave a tip as well.

“Should we try to find a table?” he murmured but Hashirama shook his head.

“Here is fine!” With that his sibling plonked down on one of the stools right up against the bar itself.

Tobirama supposed that did make it more efficient for when they needed a refill so he balanced himself on the next stool and took a tentative sip of whatever drink he’d been handed. It wasn’t as bad as he’d always imagined; still nowhere near as good as the nihinshu they’d drained before, though.

While the night hour deepened outside their establishment the two brothers made a point of testing different drinks with every new round they bought and Tobirama was introduced to the more social aspects of drinking in public places. After the few couple of rounds Hashirama looked like he was melting over the bar top but Tobirama found himself engaged in deep conversation with people he’d never met before in his life.

One in particular it turned out he did know, though it took a while to remember. He hadn’t seen his cousin in so long he’d almost forgotten her face but after she pointed out the connection he allowed one hug for the sake of reunited family. Her name brought up memories of braided hair and freckles disappearing for undercover work and he supposed that was probably why he hadn’t seen her for so long. Indeed, when he asked she told him she had been quite surprised to head for home after so many years only to find her home completely empty. Up until then she hadn’t given any credence to the rumors of a new village built between the Senju and the Uchiha. After all, the clans lived too far apart for any sort of bad blood to exist between them and she hadn’t thought Butsuma smart enough to see the advantage in securing such a powerful ally so far away.

The two of them were well and truly distracted by their catching up, Hashirama pitching in when he could be bothered to lift his head up from the bar, so wrapped up in their own little world that Tobirama paid little attention to the rest of the room when normally he would be keeping track of every chakra signature present. Which is how he missed Izuna until the slam of a glass bottle against wood rang out just loudly enough to pull his attention and he looked over to find the one he least wanted to see pushing himself up from an otherwise empty booth and storming away with tense body language.

Or at least Tobirama thought he looked tense. It was possible he could be seeing things. Even Izuna himself might have been a hallucination brought on by drink or it could just be a random Uchiha that his muddled brain had decided to project upon. Tobirama squinted at the man’s back as it disappeared out the door and told himself it was fine. No need to worry. It would have to be quite a coincidence for Izuna to crop up so many times in one day, especially after he’d said he would go away only to turn up in their home barely more than an hour later.

He turned back to the cousin he hadn’t seen in years and offered her a sloppy smile.

“I got married!” he said.

“So I hear.” She leaned forward with a smile of her own. “Tell me everything about him.”

Nothing could have made him happier. With alcohol loosening his tongue Tobirama opened his mouth and let the praises flow like a river, happy as a pig in mud to do nothing but wax poetic on his husband. Madara had a lot of good qualities that he knew most people never took the time to see. What sort of partner would he be if he missed such a golden opportunity to spread the good word?

Apparently Hashirama approved of him playing the good husband as well because it only took one more round of drinks for him to start sobbing over how happy he was for both of them and how good they were for each other. It was easy to ignore. Tobirama had grown up being attacked with random bursts of crying so he didn’t think much of the boorish display but he did notice several long glances from the bartender, reluctance clear on his face when he was asked to bring them another round. Clearly their fun had come to an end.

Tobirama’s coin purse was worryingly lighter when he paid up the last of their tab for the night but he was honestly more worried about how he was going to get Hashirama back home while he could barely keep himself upright. He was more grateful than he currently had the capacity to express when their cousin stepped in and volunteered to guide the drunken fool, laughing easily at her surprise that he intended to walk in the opposite direction. Apparently she assumed that even marriage would not separate him from his brother’s side. Little that she knew.

Cool night air and very few people on the streets to witness his drunken stumble helped keep up the good mood that had finally repaired itself as Tobirama made his way home alone. When he reached the top of their street he could feel Madara's chakra boiling away inside their home but in such a muddled state it didn’t occur to him as a bad thing. He was happy to feel Madara close and that was about as far ahead as he was thinking at the moment. There was even a dopey sort of smile on his face as he fumbled to open the door and spilled in to the front hallway, barely remembering to peel off his sandals before continuing in to the living room where he found his husband.

It looked like Madara had been pacing circles for quite some time when Tobirama came in to the room but he stopped as soon as he heard the door snap shut, whipping his head around to narrow both eyes while Tobirama waved at him inanely.

“And just where have you been?” he asked. It felt like a trick question somehow.

“With Hashirama.” Tobirama cocked his head to one side. “Like I said I’d be.”

“You said you would be spending the evening with him, yes. There was no mention of going out trolling for company in seedy bars!”

Madara huffed and stomped another circle but stopped when his path brought him right up in front of Tobirama, who stood blinking in confusion. He couldn’t remember sending word ahead when their plans had changed but perhaps it had slipped his mind somewhere between the drinks. It must have if Madara already knew about their adventures.

“I like your company,” he announced, proud of himself for stating how he felt so clearly and then sad to see the other man frown in response.

“Really, now? From what I hear you enjoy the company of strange women!”

“I – what?”

“He saw you! Izuna saw you in that bar! Flirting with random women with Hashirama right there at your side doing nothing to stop it!”

Tobirama squinted as he tried to determine how he felt. Apparently he had not been hallucinating Izuna’s presence and apparently the idiot had run straight home to carry tales of what he thought he’d seen. Even well past his own tolerance limits it wasn’t hard for Tobirama to figure out where the miscommunication had happened and why Izuna had come tattling stories of a wrong he hadn’t committed. What made him decide that he was angry was how easily Madara seemed to have believed such things.

And here he thought they had gotten to the point where they could trust each other, where they knew each other a little better than for Madara to believe him capable of that.

“I’m going to sleep,” he murmured, not wanting to deal with this.

“No, you’re going to stay here and explain what the hell you were thinking!”

“What I was thinking was that I hadn’t seen my cousin in nearly a decade and it was a pleasant surprise to see her again! I was thinking it was nice to come home to a husband who might have started believing I wasn’t a monster!” Tobirama scowled deeply to hide the hurt. “Evidently I was wrong about that last one. I really don’t know what I have to do to convince you I have no ill intentions.”

Madara blinked at him with wide eyes. “Your…cousin?”

“Yes. My cousin. For whom I could not possibly hold any attraction, what with my preference for men.” He tried to raise both eyebrows pointedly but couldn’t tell if the expression actually formed since his face had gone numb, an interesting effect he’d never experienced before.

“Well how was I supposed to know that?” Madara blustered.

“Call me crazy but you could try getting both sides of the story first before flying off the handle.”

“Hey! I didn’t believe him when he said he saw you flirting with a woman! But then he said you were hugging her – you never hug anyone! And certainly not in public!” Crossing his arms, he huffed and nodded once to make his point.

Which was a good point, Tobirama could admit that. It was slightly mollifying that Madara had arrived at his conclusion using at least some kind of logic. But it was still the wrong conclusion.

“You still should have waited to hear my side first! He saw me in a bar. Obviously we were drinking. So it follows that my behavior will be slightly off!” The first clue for which should have been his unsteady gait and this new habit of emphasizing so many words in his speech.

“Fine!” Madara shouted. “Next time I’ll ask!” He somehow managed to sound both angry and glad to make his concession.

“Good then. Do that. I don’t see why you’re still angry.” Tobirama sniffed. He was the one who had been insulted here. What right did Madara have to keep huffing and puffing?

Squirming in place, his husband looked away for a moment. When he looked back he jerked his chin up in to the air with a familiar stubborn jut. “Well excuse me for feeling a little betrayed when I thought the man I married was cheating on me. Maybe I should have waited like you said but we both know I have a temper! Izuna told me what he saw and I reacted!”

Tobirama snorted but said nothing because there was nothing to say. He did know that Madara had a temper, they both did in their own ways, and once it was pointed out like that he could understand why he had found the man in such a state. And he supposed he could appreciate the fact that Madara hadn’t immediately stormed out of the house to come confront him. Neither of them would have come away from that encounter unscathed and only kami knew what sort of complication a drunken Hashirama could have added in to the mix.

“I guess I’ll just take the couch for tonight then,” Tobirama murmured, taking his turn to look away. If they laid down in the same bed he was certain Madara would tense up in the same way he used to and just imagining the sight of it was heartbreaking. Better to spend the night apart and let the man cool off.

“You don’t have to,” Madara grunted.

“It’s fine. Maybe it’s best.”

“Says who?”

Tobirama closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Stop being difficult and just – it’s late. Go to bed.”

“No. It’s your bed too, no one said you had to start sleeping on the couch again!”

“And no one said it was permanent either!” Bringing their gazes back together, Tobirama noted that they were mirroring each other’s stubborn expressions perfectly. “I’m trying to be respectful! Something you could learn from!”

That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say. Madara puffed up so large his hair seemed to physically bristle with offense.

“I can be respectful!”

“Sure. Of course. You never just think about what you want!”

“Oh you want me to just take what I want? Well fine!”

When Madara came towards him suddenly Tobirama had but a split second to note that alcohol really does impair one’s reaction time, stopping him from raising any sort of defense against the blow he thought was surely coming for his face.

Instead he found fingers in the collar of his shirt and lips pressed insistently against his own, messy and off-center. He registered the fact that they were kissing at around the same time he registered that Madara had probably never kissed anyone before in his life – barring the day they were married, of course. If he had he would have done something other than stand perfectly still with his lips pursed and his heart beating so heavily Tobirama could feel the pulse of it thundering when he wrapped a hand around one of the man’s wrists.

He could have pulled away and gotten angry for having his person assaulted like this right in the middle of an argument, something he knew he would have done if he were sober and clinging stubbornly to his own temper, but the drink in his veins did a perfect job of smoothing the transition between anger and a pleasant sort of triumph. This was exactly what he had been so upset about being denied earlier. Why shouldn’t he enjoy it?

The shift of Madara's stance away from him made him realize that he had been standing there for too long not reacting in any way other than to take hold of one wrist in what could be considered a forbidding grip, definitely not the impression he wanted to give. Before his partner could pull away entirely Tobirama took a step forward himself, taking control of Madara's lips and tilted his own head to show the man what a proper kiss should be like. His eyes rolled behind closed lids when he heard a helpless moan that had probably escaped by accident.

Loosening the fingers he’d brought up in defensive instinct, he reached down instead with both hands to frame Madara's hips, bringing their bodies together at the same time as he took another step forward to drive the man back in to whatever surface happened to be there. Probably a wall, possibly a bookcase. Whatever it was mattered little compared to the way his husband melted against him with another delicious sound and tightened the grip on his collar in what he could guess was approval.

When they separated several minutes later they were both flushed and short of breath, staring at each other with open wonder and neither making any move to pull away farther than the space needed for their gazes to meet. Tobirama licked his lips, tasting something new that he thought he might be instantly addicted to, and wondered what to say. He was grateful when Madara broke the silence first.

“You taste like beer. Wouldn’t have taken you for a beer drinker.”

“Will you do that again when I’m sober?�� Tobirama blurted. His partner blinked at him and he shuffled his weight anxiously. “I am not convinced this isn’t some kind of alcohol-driven hallucination.”

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, we can do this again when you’re sober. I would hope we do this, er, many times. In the future. Going forward?” Madara scrunched his face up in the way that said he was irritated with the choppy sentences coming out of his mouth and if Tobirama had an ounce less self-control he would have kissed the man again just for that.

“Good, good. I think I should sleep now.”

Madara helped him up the stairs, both hands hovering near his person to push him back upright whenever he overbalanced in a random direction. He managed to change and brush his teeth by himself but the moment he spread himself out across the bed to wait for Madara to do those same tasks it was like all the alcohol he’d consumed pounced on him all at once. When his husband came back in to the room he was spread out on his back with both hands clutched in the sheets, glaring at the ceiling as best he could with drooping eyelids.

“Doing okay?”

“The room is spinning,” Tobirama informed him matter-of-factly. “I don’t like it.”

“Drinking does that to you.” Madara nodded sagely and Tobirama concluded that he must have experienced this a time or two before. How anyone could enjoy this sensation was beyond him. He felt as though he might fly off the edge of the earth any moment and all he wanted was for something to help him stay in place.

Which, he realized through the fog, he could have. Madara blinked when he unclenched one hand to reach out across the bed.

“Come here. Please. If you don’t hold me down I’m going to float away or something.”

“Of course you will.” Madara was laughing at him but Tobirama let it go just this once since he was getting what he wanted anyway and that was clearly more important at the moment.

Slipping under the covers, Madara scooted across the mattress until he was flush up against Tobirama the way they had come to enjoy sleeping back to front, only this time he paused for a brief second to consider the change in position before laying his head down on the chest before him and curling in to Tobirama with his entire body. One hand he curled between them and the other he gently rested on the ribs just below his head. For a few moments his body retained a great deal of tension as he supposedly debated with himself whether or not he liked this new arrangement but then he relaxed all at once, daring even to shift one leg forward to hook his ankle over the one closest to him.

“There,” he murmured. “Is that good?”

“Yeah. That’s good.” Tobirama curled the arm Madara had crawled in to and brought his other around so he could hold his husband close, forcing himself to close his eyes by pressing his face in to the thick mass of hair spilling across his shoulder. “You smell good.”

“Do I?”

Tobirama hummed pleasantly and took another deep breath.

“S’nice. I like this.”

“Me too,” Madara admitted, his voice almost quiet enough to go unheard.

“Sleep now?”

“Wow, you are fading fast. Go to sleep. You’re going to hate your brother in the morning for feeding you so much alcohol and I do not promise not to laugh.”

Tobirama smiled and mindlessly nuzzled the pleasant smelling mass of softness in front of him, already forgetting what it was or where he had ended up but not caring one whit. He knew that Madara was there with him and that both of them were happy and that was all he needed. Whatever hiccups had interrupted them near the end, overall the day had been a good one and with Madara in his arms it was certainly ending on a high note as well.

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

15 notes · View notes

raendown · 4 years

Link

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 4024 Chapter: 20/? Summary: Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. Some are fought at the conference table, with whispers in the shadows, or even in the bedroom.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Chapter 20

After all the worry that none of them could predict what Tajima’s next move would be there was a hilarious sort of irony in the way Madara exposed his first little plot entirely by accident – and without even picking up on the severity of what he’d uncovered. It didn’t seemed to have occurred to Tajima that his sons might be anything less than completely loyal to him in every way. The concept that Madara would pass on information to his husband should have been his first thought and it wasn’t clear if he was just that confident in his own authority or it this was nothing more than a fatal oversight.

Either way it played to the benefit of the village as a whole so none of them saw fit to complain when they eventually realized what happened. Well, none but Tajima but he was the grumpy sort of man who seemed to look for things to complain about no matter the situation.

Spending their lunch hour together by taking a walk through one of the newly built districts, still empty and awaiting new residents, Madara didn’t think much about bringing up the meeting he’d had with his father the day before. Two weeks had passed since Tobirama and Izuna returned from their mission and the initial panic of waiting for some big show down between their two founders had faded a little. He didn’t see anything very out of the ordinary in Tajima’s new squad of elite soldiers when it came up during one of his daily reports. Tobirama, on the other hand, seemed quite interested in them.

“What about their training is special?” was his first question. A little distracted with the way their arms were wound around each other, Madara answered in a distracted sort of voice.

“They’ve all been personally handpicked from our most elite fighters and I believe he’s working with them to further train their stealth capabilities. From what I understand the idea is to have a small squad of soldiers who are able to disappear in any environment, more so than a regular shinobi is expected to be capable of.” At the moment he cared more about the way his companion had to carefully measure each step to make his strides just a little shorter, ensuring they stayed together.

“I see.” Tobirama hummed thoughtfully. “That’s actually an excellent idea. Imagine all the missions that could be completed more easily with such a highly trained squad of specialists. And there are only Uchiha in that group right now?”

“Yeah, just a handful of distant cousins.”

“What if we added a few Yamanaka and Inuzuka? Some Hyuga as well, definitely a good sprinkling of Nara, even some of the Aburame would be great additions. Instead of a small squad we could have a whole division, give them special training in different areas and have them guard the village’s most important figures when they’re not out on assignments. Yes, I like this idea.” Tobirama grinned in a vicious sort of way. “We could do a lot of building on this idea.”

Madara forced himself to look away from that enticing expression. “Feel free to run with it. I’m not sure what his end goal was for this little group but I’m sure it’s in good hands with you. He’s proud but he’d never turned away an idea that would benefit him, although he usually finds a way to say the idea was his in the first place.”

“Very interesting indeed. I’ll bring this up during the next high council meeting and we can all discuss how many should be taken from each of the clans. They’ll all want to be represented of course.” Tobirama’s gaze was starting to take on a faraway quality that said he was rapidly getting lost inside his own head and Madara responded to that distraction almost without thought, bringing attention back to himself like a needy child.

“There’s still half an hour left of our lunch, should we head back towards the market and grab something sweet?”

“What would poor Susumu say if she knew you were cheating on her with another bakery?” Tobirama’s lips quirked up and Madara had to remind himself to breathe properly. He was married to a public menace.

Puffing himself up, he waved the idea aside. “What sensei doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Now let’s go find something with blueberries so we can both enjoy it.”

Tobirama looked delighted that Madara had remembered his favorite fruit, mentioned in passing in a random conversation over dinner some time back, and that was all the encouragement he needed to insist on following through with the idea. Giving a gentle tug on their entwined limbs, he steered them back the way they had come and followed his nose to the first street vendor with something blueberry on prominent display. They had to separate so they could both use their hands for eating and Madara desperately hoped it did not show on his face how pleased he was when Tobirama was the one to entwine them again after they had both wiped off their sticky fingers.

Returning to work after such a delightful time together was boring but it had to be done. Madara walked his partner to the office he technically shared with other people, though he could still usually be found alone, then stumped back to his own office where he found Hashirama snacking on cookies.

“Who baked these ones? I think I would have noticed Tobirama baking at home.” He sniffed at the tin and immediately turned up his nose. Lemon and ginger.

“Mito made them for me. Want one?” Hashirama pushed them closer to the edge of his desk but Madara shook his head as he began to root through the pile of scrolls in his inbox without even sitting down.

“I’m full already. And I don’t want anything your wife made. Somehow she would know which cookie I’m going to take and poison just that one.”

Hashirama made offended noises that Madara easily ignored. It was no secret that his best friend’s wife had never taken much of a shine to him. It didn’t matter if he showed up for dinner with good or poor manners, she would still go through the entire evening with her gaze sharp and her commentary even sharper.

For the most part the second half of their day was quiet. Which was to say that Hashirama managed to interrupt his train of thought only every twenty minutes or so, allowing Madara to get an impressive amount of paperwork done before he felt two distinct chakra signatures making their way towards him from opposite directions. Both of them were very familiar and more than welcome though he hoped they weren’t both hoping to walk him home.

The first to arrive was Tobirama, face held in a neutral expression that did not manage to hide the warmth in his eyes when he was greeted with a smile from both his brother and his husband. Only a few seconds after him Izuna stepped in to the room and his face pulled down in to a look of mild disgust upon being faced with his self-proclaimed nemesis.

“Well. There goes my plans.” He nodded to the other two and turned on his heel to leave. Madara had only just opened his mouth to call something that probably would have come out with an attitude when Tobirama beat him to it.

“Yes and we’re all simply devastated to be excluded from them,” he murmured. Izuna spun back around to glare.

“As if I would ever invite you anywhere!”

“Were you or were you not about to invite yourself in to the home I also happen to live in?” Tobirama lifted one shapely brow and smirked when Izuna had no rebuttal for that. He did always enjoy being right. And Madara was of the opinion that he was both unbearable and unbearably attractive in his smug celebration every time.

Movement from Hashirama's desk distracted him for a few seconds as the man half stood from his seat and then abruptly sat back down, clearly making a conscious decision not to intervene, and when Madara looked back at the two in the doorway both of them were visibly making an effort to contain themselves with sidelong glances in his direction. As sad as it was that they didn’t get along it was nice to see them both keeping to their agreement not to make things more difficult than they needed to be.

To his surprise, it was Tobirama who demurred with both hands raised in mock surrender.

“I had the pleasure of his company for our entire lunch hour and I will see him again at home. Releasing him in to your questionable care for part of the evening won’t kill me.” Looking over his shoulder to where Hashirama was doing his best to pretend he wasn’t eavesdropping, Tobirama gave an exaggerated sigh. “I suppose spending time with my own brother wouldn’t kill me either.”

“Aw, Tobi, that’s so sweet,” Hashirama drawled with a surprising amount of dry sarcasm.

“Yes, I thought so.”

“Don’t do me any favors,” Izuna snarled. “I don’t need handouts from you.” Over on his side of the room Madara very seriously contemplated smacking himself in the forehead with exasperation.

Luckily Tobirama seemed determined to walk away as the bigger man, refusing to rise to the bait. With a low nod as though deferring to Izuna’s decision he simply turned his head to look away and pretend his brother-in-law wasn’t there. Of course, Izuna had always been the type of person who almost went looking for things to be offended by so when he left he did so with narrowed eyes and vengeance waiting in the corners of his pursed lips. Hashirama looked wilted as he wandered after the younger man with no one to walk him home. They both knew he would cheer up the moment he saw his wife and remembered she was always there to walk with him.

Madara rubbed at the bridge of his nose. The fact that his precious people weren’t actively yelling at each other or hissing pointed insults like moody children was a great improvement and he was very satisfied with that. He really was. But that didn’t mean he had no room in him to wish that both of them could work a little harder to improve faster.

Still, having the chance to walk home at Tobirama’s side was an opportunity he would always be happy to snatch up when it was on offer. The more time they spent together the more he was coming to very much enjoy the odd sensation of butterflies in his stomach whenever he had the pleasure to be the focus of Tobirama’s attention. When he was younger he could remember the horrifically embarrassing talks Susumu-sensei had with him about the birds and the bees, what it would feel like when he wanted those things. But more importantly he could remember the rare softness in her tone when she spoke of what it would feel like to want nothing more than to hold someone’s hands and have them close.

Walking at Tobirama’s side as they made their way out of the office and down through the tower, he realized that was exactly what he felt like. He wanted to know what it was like to hold Tobirama’s hand, to be close to him and stay close to him without feeling self-conscious or worrying about whether he should hold himself back, push forward, whatever flavor of anxiety happened to hit him at any given time.

They were halfway home when he decided that if Tobirama could be bold enough to admit in front of other people that his company was a pleasure then he could be bold too.

Slipping his fingers in between Tobirama’s without making a big deal of it was an act of extreme precision and also one of the scariest things he had ever done – including the time he had accidentally consumed psychedelic fruit and thought the entire room was trying to eat him somehow. He waited until his husband was in the middle of a sentence and his eyes got caught on something in the opposite direction before making a move, reaching between them and weaving their hands together, telling himself firmly that it wasn’t that big of a deal. They had only just been walking around these streets with their arms entwined earlier; fingers shouldn’t have been any different.

His cheeks burned when Tobirama’s sentence faltered and he worried the tips of his ears might start smoking from the sheer heat coming off of them but then Tobirama picked up the thread where he had allowed his words to fall apart and it was all so natural suddenly. So very normal. Of course they should hold hands as they walked home. They were married and married couples held hands sometimes, even if he was only just now remembering Tobirama’s preference to keep public displays like this to a tasteful minimum. That meant he only blushed all the more to not be pushed away.

When they got home they did have to let go of each other so they could set down the things they had brought home from the office and putter around the kitchen to decide what they should have for dinner but the atmosphere in their home felt just a little bit different from how it normally was. The mood between them felt more intimate somehow and he had the distinct impression that if he asked for a hug as he’d been dying to do since the night Tobirama returned from his mission that he would receive one without question. With a smile even. There was an odd sort of power in knowing that such intimacies might be available to him simply by requesting them.

Dinner was filled with good-natured bickering that kept them in high spirits, both with one hand on the table through the meal though neither of them moved to hold the other again. By the time he rose to bring his dishes to the sink Madara was feeling almost jittery. He’d never felt like this around anyone else so he wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to do with all these bubbles inside him but since he had decided not to be a coward about things he figured it was best to just go with the flow and do what felt natural.

So of course that was when he turned around and found Tobirama only a few inches away with plate in hand, obviously come to clean up his own mess. Both of them froze to find their faces so close. Madara noted absently that having to tilt his chin up to meet Tobirama’s eyes wasn’t nearly as aggravating as he’d been expecting. Instead of thinking about how much shorter he was he found his mind focusing on how much taller Tobirama was and it was an oddly comforting difference.

“Apologies,” his husband murmured. “I didn’t mean to invade your space.” Despite his words he made no move to step back, eyes darting around Madara's face as though searching for something.

“No, you’re fine. This is…fine.” Madara cleared his throat but refused to look away.

Carefully leaning to the left, Tobirama set his dishes down on the counter and then let his arms hang down at both sides without stepping away. The space between them was thick with a loaded silence and unspoken words as both of them stared at each other and slowly inched forwards.

While he had no idea what his face might be doing, Madara's inner thoughts were screaming nonsensical noises and mixed half sentences, most of which would probably have better suited a preteen with their first crush because he couldn’t help telling himself that this was it. This was the moment. Tobirama’s face was so close to his own and getting closer; they were going to kiss. For a moment he panicked because he had no idea how kissing worked beyond smashing two faces together.

And then panic didn’t matter as they both startled apart by a disgusted scoff from the doorway. When they both whipped around to look they found Izuna standing there with his arms crossed and his entire face pinched.

“I know I said I would spend time with my brother on my own terms but you don’t need to put on such a gross display just because I decided to come over. You won’t chase me off twice in one day so don’t bother trying.” He huffed and let his weight drop down on to one hip for an extra pop of attitude.

“We didn’t know you were coming!” Madara protested, already mourning the loss as Tobirama stepped away.

“Bull, you’re both sensors. Highly skilled ones, at that.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t get distracted!”

He only realized his mistake when Izuna started pretending to gag and Tobirama turned away to clear his throat uncomfortably. Before their guest could recover Tobirama started for the doorway and pushed past him. “I suppose I’ll be spending some time with my own brother after all then.”

Without waiting for a response he was gone and Madara was left to glare at his sibling irritably. In return he got an equally bitchy look which honestly should not have surprised him but the idiot had always known how to press his buttons a little too well. Aiming one last scoff after Tobirama’s retreating form, Izuna invited himself in to the room and slumped down in the closest chair.

“Aren’t you happy to see me Aniki?” he taunted.

“You couldn’t have knocked on the front door like a normal person?” Stealing a glance of his own towards the door, Madara sighed. “Or maybe just waited five more minutes?” He looked back when Izuna scoffed.

“Look, I’m not even sorry I interrupted. What? Don’t look at me like that either. Just because I said I would try not to fight with him as much doesn’t mean I’m magically okay with this. I still hate him. He’s still not good enough for you.” He shrugged, entirely unconcerned with how his words might be taken.

Madara tried to hold it in but it didn’t last long. “It’s not your business to be okay with it! This is my marriage, not yours, so get your nose out of it!”

“I’m just looking out for you!” Izuna tilted his chair back on to two legs with a pitying look. “We both know how this is going to end so if it’s not going to work out anyway then why bother–”

“Well maybe I want it to work out!”

The sound of Izuna’s chair slamming back down on to four legs echoed loudly in the otherwise silent kitchen but Madara refused to flinch. He raised his chin instead, all but daring the other to say something, to refute him in some way. Growing up together had taught him that Izuna always had something to say but for the same reasons the idiot should know that Madara was not the sort to be swayed by uninvited temper tantrums.

He could definitely see one brewing though as his brother struggled to comprehend the idea that he might not still be looking forward to the day five years had passed and he became eligible by Senju traditions to seek a divorce. The very idea that he might decide to stay married did not appear to compute.

“Are you insane?” Izuna demanded.

“No! It’s my choice! Forgive me if I don’t think about your preferences when I consider what’s best for my own future!”

“This isn’t best! He’s a cold-hearted monster who only married you because his daddy said so! He doesn’t care about you, Aniki!”

Madara gripped the back of the chair in front of him until his knuckles turned white. “You don’t know anything about him. The Senju clan don’t like to show their emotions in front of people they don’t trust but that doesn’t mean they don’t have any! I think he does care about me!”

“He doesn’t love you, that’s for sure.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Neither do you!”

“Fuck you, Izuna!” In a fit of anger Madara threw the chair in his grip, sending it crashing in to the counter and splintering one of the legs off, but he had eyes only for the fool in front of him. “Get out of my house. Get out of my sight before one of us says something we’re going to regret – and believe me you will regret saying anything else you have hidden in that nasty little brain of yours. What I do with my time and who I spend it with is none of your concern and I am utterly sick of hearing you say the same things over and over again. I am sick of being angry at you for this. Just go.”

A second chair was almost broken when Izuna stood up and kicked it away from himself. “If I remember correctly you didn’t want this marriage from the start. Now he’s brainwashing you like a good little daddy’s boy – and worse than that, he’s turning you against me!”

“You’re doing that yourself,” Madara spat. “Are you so determined to get your way that you can’t let me be happy?”

Facing each other across the table as they were gave him a perfect view of the way Izuna’s expression shuttered and his anger faltered, stunned in to silence by his brother’s words. It took a few moments for Madara to see through his anger and understand what could have hit the other so hard. He knew his brother as well as Izuna knew him in turn just as he’d been thinking earlier. They both knew exactly what points to pressure and all the weakest spots to strike. Izuna might be a selfish brat when it came to the rest of the world but he worshipped his older brother and underneath the snarky attitude he wanted nothing more than for Madara to be happy.

And Madara was sure that in the back of his mind he had worked it out somehow to assure himself he was only doing what he needed to for Madara to be happy in the end, that the ends would justify the means when all was said and done. Up until now he almost certainly saw himself as the only one really looking out for who he saw as the victim in this situation. Being told now that he was actually a source of hurt instead of help would be difficult for a mind like his to comprehend.

“Well I was only trying to–”

“I really don’t care what you were trying to do,” Madara interrupted him again. “Maybe I would care about your intentions if you had listened to me when I told you my feelings on the matter had changed but you didn’t. You never want to listen. So just…go.”

To his surprise Izuna did leave. What did not surprise him was the dark anger that clouded the younger man’s face as he stomped back out of the house. This was clearly not the end of the conversation nor the last time they would talk about this. With the slamming of a door Madara found himself alone in a messy kitchen, his mood ruined after enjoying such a pleasant day. It would have been nice to spend time with his brother if only Izuna hadn’t been so determined in his belligerent attitude today. Now he had the rest of his night to spend alone without anyone to keep him company or help him get back to the contentment he had very much been enjoying right up until a hurricane arrived to rain on his parade.

Looking around at the mess they had made, he sighed. At least he had something to do to fill his time for the next couple of hours; kami only knew when Tobirama would come home so he might as well get started.

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

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raendown · 4 years

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Shout-out to you-know-who-you-are for reminding me to post this because I honestly didn’t even realize it was Sunday. Whoops!

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 4088 Chapter: 14/? Summary: Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. Some are fought at the conference table, with whispers in the shadows, or even in the bedroom.

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Chapter 14

“I’m not sure why you’re so worried about solving the problem right this second.” Touka examined her fried squid with a little too much interest to be genuine before delicately catching a piece between her teeth and nibbling it away from the stick. Her apparent disinvestment in their conversation did not fool him for a moment.

“They’re brothers, closer maybe than Hashirama and I.”

“Doesn’t take much,” Touka interrupted with a scoff, her words muffle around the mouthful of squid.

Tobirama ignored her. “Izuna means a lot to Madara and having a wedge like this between the brother he loves and the husband he’s contractually stuck with, it’s got him in knots. He’s moping. But you didn’t hear me say that because every time I use the word moping he gets prissy and starts yelling about the difference between moping and thoughtful silences.”

Pausing to let an older couple pass in front of them in the busy marketplace, he shared a secret look with his favorite cousin.

“Does he get that squinty look? The really hot one where he starts puffing his chest out?”

“Every time,” Tobirama answered.

Touka laughed as she pulled the last of her squid off its stick, popping the morsel in her mouth and tossing the stick in a public trash bin when they passed one. “Shame he’s so mouthy, really. You got lucky in the looks department but he’s too loud for my tastes.”

“I kind of like him the way he is.” Sensing her eyes drilling in to the side of his head, Tobirama huffed. “Yes, I know. Don’t bother saying it. This is supposed to happen in a marriage but – and I never thought I would have to say this about myself – getting attached like this probably isn’t really the best idea.” Knuckles brushing against his own was Touka’s way of expressing sympathy out here where so many strangers could see them.

“Be careful,” was all she said, simple words that carried a depth of meaning very few would be able to discern.

“No promises,” Tobirama shot back. She rolled her eyes at him but let the subject drop.

When they turned the next corner they were treated to the sight of the afternoon sunlight laying a golden crown around the tower that made the center of their village. After getting caught up in a meeting with the Sanitation Committee about why burying their garbage right next to a residential area wasn’t a great solution such a vision was more than welcome, reminding him of the few reasons he did think this village was a good idea. He had missed his usual lunch hour before of the meeting and so ended up taking a late break with Touka as she came off patrol. Now that they were done eating he would have to go back to the drone of paperwork.

Sometimes he really missed risking his life on missions. At least it was never boring.

He had planned to part ways with Touka after she saw him back to his office but they never made it that far, stopped in the hallway by a large crowd of people and immediately drawn by the same curiosity as everyone else had been: raised voices. Both of the shouting voices were unfortunately quite familiar. It wasn’t the first time that Tajima and Butsuma had argued in public, something that had been growing more and more common since the first time after Tajima caught Butsuma yelling at one of his sons, and the only reason Tobirama hadn’t made any attempts to rein his father in was the fact that it didn’t seem to be affecting how well the rest of their clans worked together.

From what he could understand of their yelling it didn’t appear that Tajima had gotten the message on that. It seemed like the longer they worked together and the more people joined this venture they had pioneered the more paranoid he grew about everything that went on around him. Tobirama wished he could say that Butsuma balanced him out with level-headed responses but unfortunately much the opposite was true.

“He is my son, not your own! It should not be for you to say where he goes and when!” Tajima’s voice sounded livid and his face, when they finally fought their way through the crowd, was red with anger. Not an unfamiliar sight.

“This mission requires a certain skill set and Izuna matches that perfectly. Should I pretend the entirety of the Uchiha clan does not exist when assigning teams for each mission?” Butsuma’s face was hardly faring any better and his body language was just as aggressive, much to Tobirama’s tired irritation.

“You do as much whenever it pleases you from what I can tell!”

“I beg your pardon?” Butsuma’s eyes narrowed. Tajima did not take the warning.

Stepping forward almost threateningly, he made wide gestures to match his accusations. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how often my clan members get sent away and pushed to the side while you keep your own children close and pair them with the Hyuga.”

“Are you trying to say something about my administrative choices?”

“I think you understand what I’m trying to say,” Tajima snarled. “You and the head of the Hyuga clan have been getting a little too close for me to ignore it any longer.”

“There is nothing for you to ignore. It isn’t my fault if you choose to jump at shadows and secret plots that don’t exist. I stand by my decision. Your son Izuna was chosen for this mission because he is well equipped for it and Tobirama has been assigned to the land expansion project for the same reasons. That this project happens to work closely with the Hyuga has nothing to do with you!” Unlike his counterpart, Butsuma did not bull his way forward but rather settled his legs in to a firmer stance and stubbornly crossed his arms.

Across the room Tobirama lifted his eyebrows. This was the first he had heard of being assigned to any new projects. Sure he was good with numbers and had a knack for thinking of things in long term views, something that coming up with budgets for future expansions would need, but he was hardly the only person with a head for arithmetic in the whole village. Plenty of other people could take his place crunching these particular numbers.

Clearly Tajima seemed to think so as well, although his issue didn’t seem to be with Tobirama’s placement but more with the other people working on the expansion plans. The red covering his face deepened another shade as he clenched his fists with rage.

“Lies! Do not lie to me! You have the nerve to send my son away on a mission to risk his life while keeping your own safe at home and oh! What a coincidence! Working closely with the Hyuga!”

“What exactly do you imagine is happening that has not already been covered in our very public meetings?” Butsuma demanded, clearly tiring of this argument.

“You are undermining me and my clan! Have you forgotten that this village was only made possible by my clan’s equal contribution? You did not build this empire alone and it is not for you to rule by yourself! I refuse to sit idly by while you replace us with an inferior clan just because you think you can control them better!”

“Be careful what you say to me, Uchiha.” Drawing himself up a little taller, Butsuma at least made a good impression of a man insulted.

Tobirama was contemplating the pros and cons of hiding under a rock for the rest of his life when he heard Touka sigh to his left. When he looked over her face was drawn in to an expression that practically dripped with exasperation, body language screaming her desire to call both of the men before them six kinds of idiots. Pretty much her usual reaction to any sort of interaction with either of their two founders.

“Do you think they know how stupid they look?” she murmured under her breath.

“Hmph.” Tobirama leaned closer to murmur back. “Do you think they realize what a poor image they make of themselves every time they do this in public? What a terrible example to follow.” To make such fools of themselves or to insult another prominent clan so brazenly, he wasn’t sure which was stupider but he did know the answer to his own question. Neither man probably realized how badly the people in the room were judging them.

“So? Do something about it then.”

“What, and solve all their problems for them? They’re going to have to grow up some time.” Tobirama sniffed haughtily like he had no idea what she was talking about and Touka snickered. She tried to swat his arm for being cheeky but he dodged easily, moving as little as possible as in an effort not to draw his father’s eye yet.

There was no escaping her pointed look however.

“Fine, alright. I’m leaving my administrative duties to you, I hope you know. Enjoy covering my paperwork.” She groaned but, amazingly, didn’t fight him on it.

Saying he would do it and actually forcing himself to step forward to interrupt the stupid measuring contest going on between the pair in front of him were two different matters, though. It was hard to find a place to insert himself without screaming over top of them to get their attention, something he was quite sure would only get him in more trouble than it would solve. His opportunity came in the form of another dig from Tajima.

“How are the people meant to trust the man who leads them if that man will send their children away to die while his own sit safe at home?”

“It is the nature of shinobi to die,” Butsuma retorted in a cold voice. The blankness of his voice, a brief reappearance of the typical Senju control over their emotions, was enough to shock Tajima in to silence and give Tobirama a moment to make himself heard.

“Rather than make a spectacle of ourselves,” he stepped in with a mildly reprimanding tone, “I have a solution if you would both hear it. There are several of the Nara I can list off the top of my head who would be more than capable of taking my place on the land expansion project if I accompany Izuna on his mission. Father, I agree with you that Izuna’s skill set is particularly well suited for this task but Tajima-sama does also have a point. He should have back up. Allow me to go with him; it will make a good show of unity.”

Both of them stared at him with matching expressions of shock. Now a step behind him, Touka turned aside to hide her amusement. It took effort to hide his own exasperation at two grown adults who couldn’t make themselves behave like civilized humans until they were handed a perfectly obvious solution by someone more than twenty years their junior.

“That would be acceptable,” Tajima admitted gruffly, the first to shake himself out of his stupor. Not to be outdone, Butsuma cleared his throat and nodded, visibly ashamed of allowing himself to get dragged in to such a public display.

“Agreed,” was all he said but to anyone who knew him well there were entire layers of embarrassment and resentment buried in that one word.

Nodding back to them, Tobirama very carefully did not sigh. “Excellent. I will find Izuna and have him relay the details of the mission to me. Might I recommend Nara Shikou as my replacement? He displays excellent attention to detail each time I have worked with him.”

Without waiting for an answer Tobirama dismissed himself by turning on his heel and striding forward as though entirely unaware of the large crowd that had gathered to watch the altercation play out. People scrambled to dodge out of his path but he kept his eyes forward, continuing down the hall until he was alone with only Touka’s chakra trailing along at his heels like a small cloud of contained laughter. She followed him until he was just around the corner from Izuna’s office and then stopped him before he could go on.

“Good luck cousin,” she said. “Try not to let him smother you in your sleep.”

“Thanks,” he told her dryly.

She left with a wave and Tobirama took a deep breath before approaching Izuna’s door and waiting until his knock was answered with a curt “Enter.” He wasn’t surprised to be met with a glare or to discover that he had interrupted some sort of meeting, probably instructions for filling in while he was gone. The two women Izuna was speaking to took one look between them and bolted without waiting for permission to leave.

“What do you want?” he demanded.

“I’ve been consigned to accompany you when you leave for the capitol so I’ll need you to catch me up on the details of the assignment.” To his absolute lack of surprise, the irritation of Izuna’s face slipped down in to outright distaste.

“Are you serious? For fuck’s sake. I don’t need a babysitter – and I don’t need help! Especially not from you!” His entire face pinched in a sour look.

Tobirama watched the other man throw up his hands and mutter darkly to himself, questioning for a moment why he had bothered to do this. A brief but well-timed flare of chakra from the floor above them was all it took to reminded him of why. Madara, whatever he was doing, was apparently having a bad day. Hopefully the news that his husband and his brother would be spending some ‘quality time’ together might help improve his mood and clear the dark little cloud that had been hanging over his head lately.

Drawing the length of his ponytail forward over his shoulder and tugging fitfully at the end, Izuna gave vent to a deep sigh of defeat. “I can’t get out of this?”

“Both of our fathers agreed on it.” And he would not be the one to mention that it had been his own idea.

“Ugh. I seriously do not need your help! I can do this on my own!”

“I am sure you are more than capable. For the purposes of this mission you may consider me an emergency exit strategy and an extra pair of eyes.”

“Hmph.” Izuna glared at him. “That’s about all you’re good for, I’ll bet.”

Really it wasn’t worth letting him start a fight over something so petty. Tobirama refused to rise to the bait. Instead he sidestepped the insult and tried to steer the conversation back to business.

“Do tell me if I’ve missed any details but as it stands what I know of the mission is that we are going to the capital to escort the Daimyo’s niece as she travels in secret. To be honest I didn’t look too hard at that request since I didn’t think I was being assigned to it.” He shrugged, pleased to see even Izuna couldn’t find anything wrong with that. At least he wasn’t sticking his nose in everyone else’s business.

“That’s close but not really it. Apparently the Daimyo’s niece has been travelling to a secret location several times a week and won’t speak about where she’s going. He wants us to tail her and stay completely out of sight. If she’s in trouble he wants us to take out whoever might be hurting her. If she’s colluding with his enemies he wants us to gather as much information as possible and bring him evidence of her crimes.” For a moment he looked up to the ceiling as though running through his memories to check if he missed anything. “Anyway, we’re supposed to keep a low profile on our way to the capital and meet with his representative in the market district, at the Red Dog Tavern. They’ll tell us where she leaves town and when to wait for her. We can’t be seen.”

“Nothing too complicated,” Tobirama murmured. Stealth missions weren’t his favorite, he usually found them quite boring even if he did have the patience of a rock when it was necessary to get that all important paycheck.

Izuna leaned towards the window to check the position of the sun. “I was just giving my assistants a few last minute instructions and then I meant to head out. Don’t suppose you’re all ready to go?”

“Give me half an hour.”

“Fine. Meet at the north gate in thirty minutes. If you’re not there – well, you’re a sensor aren’t you? I’m sure you can find me and catch up.”

Tobirama held his tongue and turned for the door. Thirty minutes was more than enough time for him to make it home and grab the mission pack he still kept ready at all times even though he hadn’t found much time for anything other than paperwork since moving here. But there was something else he needed to do before leaving.

Out in the hallway people appeared to be returning to work and a quick scan for their chakra signatures showed that Butsuma and Tajima had ended their fight in one manner or another, now heading in opposite directions. He could only assume to cool off after embarrassing themselves so thoroughly. With so many people in his way it took a minute or two longer than expected for Tobirama to make it up to the next floor and poke his head in to an office he hadn’t actually spent much time in, both despite and because of who was inside.

Hashirama looked up with a big smile when he entered and Tobirama nodded in return, flicking his eyes over in Madara's direction.

“Could you give us a few minutes?” he asked. His brother stared.

“Like, alone?”

“Yes, you idiot, I would like a few minutes alone with my husband if that isn’t too much trouble.”

“So cute!” Hashirama was up out of his chair in a flash and shoving his way out the door. “Maybe I’ll nip down and visit Mito! Oh this is fun!”

He was gone almost before he was finished speaking and Tobirama was shaking his head as he stepped inside and closed the door behind himself. Madara watched him curiously with a hint of trepidation that he entirely understood. ‘We need to talk’ wasn’t usually the sort of conversation opener that implied anything positive was about to come.

“It’s not anything bad,” he hurried to say when it looked like Madara was starting to brace himself. “I just didn’t want to leave without saying anything to you.”

“Leave?”

“After this conversation, yes. I’m being sent along with Izuna on his mission.”

Madara rocked back in his seat, eyes wide with surprise. “Kami save us all.” His response startled Tobirama in to a wide eyed expression of his own.

“I…thought that would please you.”

“Sending you both off alone and unsupervised? If neither one of you kills the other I will be greatly surprised.” With a low groan he ran a hand through his hair. “You two don’t exactly have a great track record for getting along so far.”

Tobirama scrunched his nose. He deserved that. “Regardless, we’ll need to make at least some sort of effort. I’m not certain how long this should take, hopefully no more than a week all told even with complications, but I wanted to let you know where I was going before I disappeared without warning.”

“I appreciate that,” Madara told him quietly.

“Right.” His message delivered, Tobirama wasn’t really sure what else to say. Yet strangely he wasn’t sure he wanted to leave yet either. He did ask for a half hour and if he wanted to waste chakra on a body flicker it would take less than a minute to flash home, retrieve his kit, and reappear at the meeting point.

“You’ll be careful?”

“I- yes?” The question threw him a little. He couldn’t remember the last time someone asked him to be careful on a mission. Usually it was just implied.

“Good.” Madara cleared his throat and valiantly strove to maintain eye contact. “I’m too young to be a widower so neither one of you are allowed to actually die, understood? A little maiming at most if you absolutely can’t control yourselves.”

Not bothering to fight the sudden smile, Tobirama nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

He hovered for a few another minutes, unsure of what to say and almost hoping Madara would ask him something else, but the moment was made awkward by neither of them quite knowing how to handle it. This was the first time since they were bonded that they would be separated for longer than a day or two and of course it came now that neither of them laid awake at night wishing for a way to escape from the other.

Eventually Tobirama decided that there was little point in standing around staring at each other and he murmured his goodbyes. Madara's gaze burned hot on his back as he let himself out of the room. Their conversation hadn’t lasted very long so he still had quite a bit of time; he used it to walk home at a leisurely pace and take in the sights of the village for no other reason than it pleased him to do so. It truly was amazing what all these clans had accomplished together, the peace that they had built and maintained after so many years of warring senselessly against each other.

Once he had his things he set off again for the north gate at the same easy speed. He could have used his time to say goodbye to Hashirama but surely Madara would mention where he had gone and it likely would have taken longer than the thirty minute time frame to remove himself from his brother’s clutches. Hashirama’s goodbyes had never been quick.

When he arrived at the gates he still had several minutes to spare but he found Izuna already waiting with impatience stamped across his face. He took one look at Tobirama, huffed, and turned away to set off down the path without so much as a word of greeting. It didn’t surprise him, really. That was probably the sort of behavior he had to look forward to for most of their journey – but he had chosen this for himself so he could hardly complain. If not a chance to make friends or make peace this could at least be a chance to come to some sort of agreement. Even if that agreement was simply not to argue too much in front of Madara.

They both cared for the same man and wanted him to be happy and so they would both need a plan to work towards that goal. If Tobirama could find nothing in Izuna not to hate then he would do his best to find something tolerable in the man and focus his attention on those qualities. Or maybe he would just drag them out to the sparring fields so they could beat on each other without fear of worrying anyone else or causing undue offense.

Actually that was a decent idea. He would need to keep that option in mind should this venture prove a complete failure.

Several long steps brought him up to walk at Izuna’s side where his brother-in-law gave him an evil look most people would save for a particularly disgusting piece of garbage or an enemy that had haunted them for years gone by.

“Just don’t get in my way, Senju,” he growled.

“Let’s talk exit strategies,” Tobirama deflected. Talking about the mission was probably a lot safer than giving voice to any of the several responses that leapt to mind.

Thankfully Izuna allowed the change in subject, though he contributed only begrudgingly and continued to make himself as difficult to work with as possible. It took everything Tobirama had not to snap at him before they had traded a dozen sentences back and forth but he held on to his temper with a white knuckle grip and told himself that if he could just make it through this one mission, if he could just prove to Izuna that they could live with each other in some way, the rest of his life would be a lot more peaceful.

And Madara would be a lot more happy.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #touka #izuna #butsuma #tajima #fanfiction

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raendown · 5 years

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Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 4753 Chapter: 9/? Summary: Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. Some are fought at the conference table, with whispers in the shadows, or even in the bedroom.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Chapter 9

The effects of sleeping so little almost every single day must have been getting to him even more than Tobirama realized if he wasn’t able to sense one little child approaching him on a nearly empty avenue. Actually, after looking down a second time Tobirama stopped walking as he realized that this was not a child who had appeared as if from thin air but a grown woman whose body had apparently decided to stop growing just after reaching three feet tall. Her limbs were all too short, legs bowed as if she had spent her formative years on horseback, and her head was just a little too big for her body. Despite that she walked with the ease and confidence of a well-trained shinobi and her chakra, now that he was paying attention, felt sharp and ready. This was not a woman to underestimate.

“Can I help you?” he asked. Blunt questions were always best, in his opinion. No point in standing on ceremony when it was clear the other person had come armed with a specific agenda.

“You could help yourself,” the woman grumbled and Tobirama nodded with some exasperation.

“A friend of Madara's, I take it?”

She didn’t bother to answer but her lack of denial was enough for him. “I wanted to come meet you for myself and I must say, the rumors are all true. You certainly are a tasty young thing, aren’t you?”

Tobirama nearly choked on his own tongue while spluttering.

“I can’t even be half your age!” he managed to get out in a strangled voice.

“Pah! You might be only half baked but I’m still allowed to use my eyes!”

“What exactly do you mean by rumors? What rumors?” Tobirama looked around at the empty street, almost worried there might be others watching them, though he couldn’t say why he found that idea so worrisome. It would hardly have been be the first time his movements had been monitored.

“Surely you’ve heard them?” the woman at his feet declared. “Every woman with working eyeballs in this clan has been whispering about how good looking you are since the day of the wedding – and not a few of the men as well. I mean, sure, looks aren’t everything. But they certainly don’t hurt either, if you know what I mean!”

Rubbing at the bridge of his nose, Tobirama mumbled under his breath, “I have trouble believing that.”

“Then you should get yourself in front of a mirror. I hear my dear old Madara has a rather nice one over the vanity in his bedroom, perhaps that one?”

He let his hand fall to give the woman a reproving look. For a shinobi with chakra as refined as hers that had been the exact opposite of subtle. She didn’t even have the decency to look sorry for her suggestion either, giving Tobirama the impression that he probably didn’t want to ask exactly what she had meant to imply by it. He let the subject fall to one side as they turned down a shady avenue and gave his attention to the small group of children passing them by with raucous laughter.

“I’ve known the lad since he was about their size, raised him more than his own father did.” Tobirama looked over to the woman now trundling along by his side and paused when he saw the reserved expression on her face. “He’s a blustering fool but there’s a heart of gold underneath all that hair and if I thought you were hurting him deliberately I would have already fed you your own spine. But you’re not. You’re both caught up in a situation you don’t like and neither one of you knows how to get the other one settled down but if at least one of you would just send up a white flag – something small! – you’d both have a much easier time of it, you know?”

“Yes, I do know.”

“So get to waving, then, you soggy muffin! What in hell’s name are you waiting for?”

Tobirama huffed. “You’ve got a lot of nerve for a woman who hasn’t even bothered to introduce herself to me yet. For all I know you could be an escaped mental patient berating the first idiot stupid enough to let her approach them. Although I suppose that doesn’t say much flattering about me either.” He wasn’t sure if he felt insulted or a little triumphant when she tilted her head back to roar with laughter.

“My name is Susumu and oddly enough I think I like you, young’n. I hope I’ve never killed anyone who meant something to you.”

“Ah. I hope the same.”

“Not likely. I’m a grumpy old crust and I’ve never liked many people.” Her words put a reluctant smile on Tobirama’s face and he settled on feeling proud.

“Then I shall take your approval as a compliment,” he told her. She nodded magnanimously in approval.

At the end of the avenue they turned another corner and Tobirama opened his mouth to bid this Susumu a good day since this was where he was supposed to meet Kagami for their first official day of training. He was stopped by the sight of Madara with a hand on one hip and the other waggling a stern finger, face pulled down in to a disappointed expression that had poor Kagami toeing the ground with shame. Tobirama’s first instinct was a wave of protective anger.

He was grateful, later, that he followed his secondary instincts instead and paused to listen before jumping in to the situation.

“It was just a stupid prank,” Kagami muttered in the direction of his shuffling feet. Madara snorted over him.

“Perhaps you meant it that way but what you did cost that woman a lot of money in wares. She’s a civilian, she relies only on the wares she sells for income and you’ve just taken that away from her. Can a civilian simply pick up an extra mission to make up for a loss in pay?”

“No, Madara-sama.”

“So what do you suppose she should do now?”

Kagami sniffled and looked away, properly shamed. “I-I don’t know.”

“If you were an active shinobi I would ask you to pay for those wares but you don’t make any of your own money yet. Should I ask your mother to pay on your behalf?” Madara lifted one eyebrow at the boy’s panicked expression. “No, I didn’t think you would like that either. Which means I’ll have to pay for them myself. So now you’ve caused trouble for two different people.”

“Well I…I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry, Madara-sama!”

His expression softening, Madara knelt down to Kagami’s level. “Intentions are all well and good but actions have consequences. I know you only meant to set off that flash powder as a prank but next time I want you to think about how your action will affect others.”

“Okay.” Kagami clasped his hands together and leveled his clan head will the single most potent set of puppy eyes that Tobirama had ever seen. “I am really sorry.”

“Don’t look at me like that, brat, I practically raised Izuna. You think a good puppy face will crack me?” Almost as if to contradict himself Madara pushed himself back to his feet and ruffled the boy’s hair.

“He’s a good egg,” Susumu murmured from the corner of her mouth.

Tobirama wasn’t sure if she meant the boy or the man but either way, in that moment, he had to agree. When they came upon the scene to find an angry Madara he had expected the sort of explosive temper that anyone working around the administration tower got to witness all too often. He was pleasantly surprised to discover Madara did understand tact and that he was surprisingly good at speaking in a way Kagami’s young mind could understand. Not many people with a temper that quick would stop and take the time to explain why the actions had been wrong.

Whatever reply he might have made was set aside when Madara spotted the two of them there and lost all color in his face. Something about seeing Susumu and Tobirama standing next to each other appeared to horrify him. That was definitely something that deserved a little exploration.

“Sensei,” Madara called with a cautious tone. “What terrible things are you up to today?”

“Just the usual. Poisoning my cupcakes, subverting government officials, and having a lovely chat with your young husband here.” Her smile was benign but the mischief in her eyes was all too easy to read when she looked up at the man beside her.

“If I get accused of treason,” Tobirama informed her in a flat tone, “I’m bringing you down with me.”

“Oh I do like you.”

He warily looked away and found Madara watching their exchange thoughtfully. It was hard to tell whether he was more worried or pleased by the idea of them getting along and he never bothered to say anything to make it clear, shaking his head as he delivering one last absent swat up the side of Kagami’s head.

“Came to take the brat for training?” he asked instead. Tobirama nodded. “He came up with a few interesting ways to keep himself entertained until you got here.”

“So I overheard. We’ll have a talk about that.”

Kagami drooped. “Aw man, but I already got in trouble!”

“I never said I was getting you in trouble, Kagami, but we will definitely still be talking about this. Even if it’s just tips on how not to get caught next time.” Contrary to what some might think, he did understand how an expression as blank as his delivering such words might be startling. Nothing about him really screamed ‘I have a sense of humor’. He understood perfectly well why Kagami gaped in surprise before laughing outright and jumping over to hug him around the waist.

The look of utter shock on Madara's face was still extra satisfying, though. Tobirama tried not to appear too smug as he very carefully did not meet his husband’s eyes. Maybe that would show the other man he wasn’t quite the stodgy, formal block of ice that apparently most Uchiha thought him to be. With a soft pat to his new student’s head Tobirama gently pushed him away and murmured that they should head over to the training field so they didn’t waste too much of the time slot he had it booked for.

He only made it three steps away, however, before Susumu caught up to him dragging a frantic looking Madara by the wrist.

“Mind if we tag along?” she asked.

“Do you need a refresher course in the basics?” Tobirama shot back. “This is our first time officially training so I hadn’t planned much more than running him through the basic forms to see where his strengths and weaknesses are. We won’t be doing any actual learning until later.”

“You’re interesting and you don’t strike me as the sort to take shit from anyone. I think it would do both of us a world of good to see you in action.” Susumu tugged on Madara's wrist once before letting go.

Rubbing at his abused limb, Madara glared down at her. “I’d like to say for myself what’s good for me,” he grumbled.

The rest of them ignored him and Tobirama pretended not to see the pout that followed. If ever he had wondered how this man became such good friends with his brother it was obvious now.

While having two spectators hadn’t exactly been part of his agenda it also wasn’t anything he hadn’t had to deal with before. It took a bit to convince Kagami that showing off for their audience would only result in having to run the same drills over and over when the distraction caused him to mess up but after a while Tobirama managed to put anything outside the two of them away from his mind to concentrate on the task at hand.

His analysis was much as he’d expected in some areas and quite the opposite in others. Kagami was physically quite fit and ready to be molded in to a good little soldier but he lacked the discipline usually found in the children of front line warriors. His chakra reserves weren’t very large yet, unsurprising considering his age, but while he didn’t know very many jutsu yet he did show a natural aptitude for molding his natural gifts when Tobirama took him through beginner drills like holding a leaf on his forehead with only chakra while performing physical tasks. All in all the boy had the makings of a skilled shinobi, all he lacked was a deeper knowledge and further training.

Focused as he was, Tobirama very nearly managed to forget about the two watching from afar. Almost. With just a small bit of his chakra infused to focus on his pupil it was hard to entirely ignore two such bright signatures so close to his own. Still, he relegated their presence to the back of his mind until he was finished going over with Kagami the first few weaknesses they would address in their training, ending with a tiny smile as reward for the boy’s patience and good behavior.

Considering their interactions so far it was no surprise that Susumu once again spoke up first when Tobirama approached them.

“Not bad, sugar, not bad at all. I’m curious to see what you’re like in a real fight, though.” She grinned at him but before he could reply Madara groaned beside her and threw a punch that she easily dodged.

“Please no,” he begged. “Please do not embarrass me. I do that just fine on my own, you always say so.”

“Aw, come on little one! You can’t tell me you’re not just a little bit curious!”

Tobirama canted his head to one side, curious. “Is this your way of challenging me to a spar?” he asked. Susumu propped her hands on both hips, striking a pose that would have been much more impressive if she were at least taller than young Kagami. What did give her an imposing edge was the light in her eyes and the warning crackle in her chakra.

“Scared?” she taunted.

“Of you? I don’t have enough data to be frightened. By the look on Madara's face I believe I should be wary but there’s really only one way to tell, isn’t there?” Her energy was surprisingly infectious; Tobirama found himself lifting one eyebrow in a challenge on his own.

He wasn’t very sure what to make of the worried look on Madara's face, uncertain if it was worry for him or for his teacher or even for his own sanity, so he looked away and smiled when Susumu clapped her hands together with childlike glee. She beckoned Kagami over and told him to stay off the field then came forward to offer Tobirama a hand. When he shook it she winked up at him and squeezed his fingers tight enough that his bones creaked in warning.

“You should have said you were scared,” she warning him. “I might have gone easy.”

“And where would the fun be in that?”

“Oh ho ho, feisty.” Her chakra was practically bursting at the seams, running through her veins like wildfire in such a way that Tobirama found himself grinning in return.

Kagami immediately began to chatter in his clan heir’s ear while the two combatants set the parameters of their spar. Then Tobirama tuned the rest of the world out with an easy efficiency that he hadn’t been able to achieve before without something like this to focus on. Susumu would be a formidable opponent, he could already tell that before either of them had made the first move. He was probably not going to win this spar. But that wouldn’t stop him from giving his all; it had been much too long since he had a proper sparring partner whose patterns he did not already know by heart. The summer season was fading in to autumn yet the air around them was still warm enough to excuse the slight hint of an excited flush on his cheeks that would have belied how much he was suddenly looking forward to this.

With a mocking bow that only bent his spine a single inch he gestured for Susumu to come at him. She did so with teeth bared and fists raised. As they danced around each other his mind automatically began to catalogue advantages and disadvantages, predictions that formed and fell away as he analyzed her movements. What advantage he gained from his height and easy access to her head she made up for in her own easy access to his knees and the ability to get up inside his guard for easier blows against his trunk. Any awkwardness born through her condition was made up for with heavy training and an impressive knowledge of how to use her own body. Not a single step was wasted, every movement deliberate.

And the kicks. Her kicks were absolutely deadly. For a tiny woman she packed quite a lot of power behind her feet each time she launched herself in the air, fending off his blows with both hands as she spun like a top to deliver devastating attacks that came close to breaking straight through his guard several times.

It rapidly became clear that, although Tobirama was holding his own for now in taijutsu, this was not an area that would grant him an easy win. There was always the chance that his high stamina might outlast hers but that wasn’t something he wanted to rely on without knowing her limits better. The next time Susumu came spinning towards his head he used the rebound of their clash to launch himself backward, taking advantage of those few precious seconds of separation to run through a quick set of hand seals.

Susumu did manage to dodge his water bullets, which wasn’t a surprise, but that wasn’t his main attack anyway. A smirk flitted across Tobirama’s face at hearing the crack of her head against the earth wall he threw up in the path of her dodge. Even if all she did was laugh and throw a massive stream of fire in his direction it was still more than worth it. Tobirama covered his escape with the only thing he could, a spinning wall of air that served no offensive purpose but had saved his life more times than he could count. His preference for water jutsu didn’t do him any good when there wasn’t enough water at hand quick enough and he’d already thrown most of the nearby pond at his opponent with the water bullets; poor foresight on his part, a mistake to throw himself in to the fight with such enthusiasm without planning ahead. He was allowed to get excited as much as the next person.

“Three different elements!” Susumu’s voice called over the scattering of fireballs she was using to keep him distracted, unable to retaliate while he was busy dodging. “I have to admit, I’m impressed!”

“I’m flattered you consider only half of my arsenal impressive,” Tobirama called back with a hint of smugness.

As he’d thought they would, his words gave her just enough pause that he was able to body flicker away. She spotted him when he appeared on the other side of the field but wasn’t able to react fast enough to stop him from pulling at the bandages he habitually wore around his wrists to expose a seal. It was only a simple storage seal, nothing like the still unfinished hiraishin he’d been working on, but what made it truly impressive were the changes he and Mito had spent hours poring over until they were able to seal physical objects in to human skin rather than paper.

The sword he pulled out of what must have looked like thin air was something he knew the Uchiha had been salivating over from afar for generations, a blade very few Senju had ever had the affinity to wield properly, and Tobirama found just a little smear of pride in the way Susumu’s gaze followed the weapon as he spun it in one hand.

“Now it’s a party,” she cackled. Tobirama rolled his eyes. “The Raijin no Ken, I was unaware it had a new bearer.”

“I’m just full of surprises,” he called back dryly.

“Let’s see how many more you’ve got up your sleeve!”

For all that the sword was rumored to make its bearer invincible, however, it soon became clear that Susumu needed no such gimmicks to augment her own power. With nothing more than the standard kunai in her holster she was able to meet and parry every attack her threw at her, dodging strikes of lightning with the ease of a young maiden following the steps of a barn dance. It was twice as frustrating when Tobirama realized she was only playing with him. No matter how hard he tried or what trick he pulled Susumu met every move without even having the decency to look harried by his efforts.

Finally there came a moment when something shifted between them and Tobirama wasn’t sure how he knew but the way his opponent fought had changed and something about that told him the end was coming, she had gotten tired of playing. Their spar was about to end. As a last ditch effort he brought his fingers together in a rapid set of seals and brought one hand to his mouth.

Susumu knocked his hands apart with one foot, the momentum of her kick carrying her body around for the other foot to crack against the side of his head and send him careening sideways. The world flew by in melded colors, both ears ringing from the blow, and by the time Tobirama was able to right himself he found Susumu standing over him with a feral grin and a blade to his throat. He blinked once and fell still as soon as he felt cold steel against the tenuous skin over his thundering pulse.

“Gotcha,” Susumu cackled. A triumphant laugh bubbled up between her lips only to fade away when she saw the mischievous sparkle in his eye. Tobirama winked and then opened his mouth to release the fire jutsu she thought she had interrupted, a short puff of flame that hit her square in the face.

It did little more than singe her eyebrows, of course, he wasn’t stupid enough to fry the face off such a powerful ally, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that he could have fried her face off if this were a real battle and from the mixture of delight and consternation in her expression it was obvious that his opponent understood that. Susumu jerked upright with her free hand already patting around her face to assess the damage. Upon finding only a few hair follicles missing she tossed her head back and laughed so hard Tobirama worried she might drop her kunai in his leg.

“Brilliant!” she crowed. “Who won the fight? Who knows! Both! Nobody! You cheeky little slice of cheese!”

“If I might get up now?” Tobirama murmured, trying to keep his satisfaction in check. He accepted the hand that was offered to him and Susumu stepped away from where she had been standing over his legs to make room for him to right himself again.

Then he almost went tumbling back to the ground as Susumu caught him in the hip with a ‘friendly’ punch that was perhaps a little too enthusiastic.

“Knew you’d do good but damn that was a neat little trick at the end. You, you’re a good egg too, aren’t you? Five elemental releases! I haven’t seen that outside of our clan in quite some time!”

“Nonsense, the Nara have at least two who’ve mastered all the elements.” His protests had less to do with modesty and more to do with his obsessive habit of keeping all shared information correct. The Nara did in fact have two women who were capable of doing as he did, although both of them were well older and had taken longer to master the abilities. Tobirama mostly attributed that to their habitual laziness more than anything else.

“Still impressive,” Susumu allowed and he nodded in acceptance.

Before he could say anything else Kagami came stumbling across the field with Madara trailing behind at a much more sedate pace, both of them wearing differing degrees of awe on their faces. “Sensei! Sensei that was amazing! You’re so cool! Will you teach me how to do that? I want to spit fire in baachan’s face too!”

“Who are you calling baachan!?”

“You’re old!”

With an offended shriek Susumu turned to chase Kagami, who sprinted away across the field in terror. Obviously she could have caught him in less than a few seconds but, probably just to entertain herself, she chose not to augment her speed and instead pattered after him around the torn up training grounds, leaving Madara and Tobirama standing awkwardly together. Which, Tobirama realized after taking another peek at Madara's face, might actually have been the entire reason she chose to play chase with a child.

His husband was looking at him with the closest thing he had seen to actual hesitation on the man’s face in all the time they had known each other. While they might not have any history of getting along Madara did have at least a couple qualities that Tobirama was able to begrudgingly admire, one of which was the confidence he exuded in his every move, the way he chose a path and walked it without allowing doubts to slow him down. It wasn’t clear what he was doubting at the moment, his own misinterpretations or one of the rumors Tobirama usually pretended not to know about, but really all that mattered was the lack of hostility in the way he shuffled just a little closer.

“You really can use all five releases,” he murmured. “You mentioned it in passing and I meant to ask but then you sort of steamrolled over me with some other stuff that…well I got distracted. I can only react to so many things at once.”

Tobirama wanted to say that if he’d known Madara found that interesting he would have brought it up before. Except he knew it wasn’t true. If he’d known anything that Madara found interesting he would have spent the last couple of months burying whatever that thing was under as much dirt and rubble as he could find and maybe asking Hashirama to grow a tree over the grave. Only their recent interactions could be seen in any sort of positive light and even then he would call most of their exchanges cautionary at best.

He wasn’t sure what made him say it. Maybe the childish need to stick his proverbial tongue out at the man for treating him so poorly when he didn’t think he’d deserved it.

“I’ll let you know if I think of anything else about me that you might find impressive.” As soon as the word were out Tobirama wanted to cringe and take them back. For all the bad blood between them Madara had been oddly less than confrontational lately and the last thing he wanted to do was ramp up the antagonism between them again. He was relieved when Madara let out a single bark of laughter.

“Do that. Whatever other surprises you’ve gotten hidden up your sleeves they have to be more interesting than listening to Hashirama babble on about his stupid plants.”

Tobirama quirked up one side of his mouth in a smile that he hoped revealed nothing of what he was actually thinking about. It had been a long time since he met someone who preferred him over Hashirama in any sort of way, his brother being much warmer and easier to befriend. Even without his other triumphs that single innocuous sentence was enough to make this a good day in his books. It was always nice to be appreciated.

With his first session training Kagami going off without a hitch and the pride of having impressed Susumu, clearly an influential part of Madara's life and a strong member of the Uchiha clan, impressing his husband and making him laugh was unexpected icing on the cake of an already good day.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #kagami #susumu #fanfiction

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raendown · 5 years

Link

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 4308 Chapter: 11/? Summary: Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. Some are fought at the conference table, with whispers in the shadows, or even in the bedroom.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Chapter 11

Madara was more than used to waking up to find himself alone in bed. It was sort of a habit at this point to roll on to his back and sprawl out in the open spaces that he knew would have been long vacated. He was startled this morning to finish his morning ritual with a jaw-cracking yawn and a stretch of his body and senses only to find a familiar chakra signature burning mutely in the kitchen a floor below. It was so strange to lie in bed and feel the calm cool feeling of Tobirama completely at ease in their kitchen, stationary even this long past sunrise, that Madara very nearly found himself lulled back asleep before he realized the unique opportunity presented to him.

It had been months since he’d eaten breakfast anything but alone but it looked like that might finally change if he could hurry his ass out of bed.

Never in his life had Madara rolled out of the blankets and thrown on his clothing so quickly, including the time their compound had been raided when he was fifteen years old. Although to be fair he’d been battling his first hangover at the time and for several minutes had confused the clangor of the alarm bells with the pounding in his head. Still, he was mildly impressed with his own speed as he managed to clothe his body in record time and all but fly down the staircase where he forced himself to assume a more orderly pace. There was no need for Tobirama to see him acting like such a fool just so the two of them could at least make friends.

A curious face awaited him when he stepped in to the kitchen and Madara did his best to keep his greeting casual, projecting an aura of seeing nothing out of the ordinary. They both knew how strange it was for them to go about the beginning of their days at the same time when Tobirama usually would have been long gone before Madara left the bed but there was little point in making a big deal out of anything.

“Have you eaten?” Madara asked, reaching for the coffee pot and almost startled to find the liquid inside still warm. It was a blessing to pour himself a cup without going through the effort of brewing it first.

“No.” Tobirama shifted with a faintly guilty expression. “I don’t usually eat much in the mornings so I’m fine, no need to worry.”

“Because you…don’t have time?” His guess hit the mark perhaps a bit too well judging by Tobirama’s wince but Madara forged ahead with one hand already reaching for a pan. “Right, well, looks like there’s plenty of time today. Would you like some eggs?”

“Yes. Please.”

At least he wasn’t the only one who suffered from not being quite sure how to act around his husband yet. It was a large relief every time he noticed Tobirama floundering a little while they both tried to figure out where things stood between them now that they weren’t determined to never look each other in the eye and how to improve their shaky relations without any more accidental insults.

Eggs were a quick and easy meal so it wasn’t long before the two of them were seated across from each other just as they had been the night before during dinner. Tobirama mumbled compliments under his breath and Madara soaked them up without bothering to look for ulterior motives. After a couple of minor false starts he was even able to get a conversation going about the plans being drawn up for providing electricity to more of the residential areas. During the initial build Tobirama hadn’t been able to convince enough people that it should be installed in all buildings rather than just businesses and governing facilities, although he had accidentally inspired them to install power in the homes of all head families as a way of appeasing each clan for the compromises they made when signing their name on the treaty.

They were nearly done their meal when Madara looked out the window and sighed. It was such a nice day, much too nice to spend so many hours in a stuffy office as he would soon have to.

“What are your plans for the day?” he asked, wistful for anything that wasn’t the paperwork waiting on his desk.

“I usually spend some time in the mornings working in my lab,” Tobirama said. “Since I, ah, didn’t make it there today I might do so after work. Very likely I’ll need that time to myself. Most of my day has been scheduled for meetings in all different corners of the village and none of them promise to be easy on my patience.”

Madara snickered in to the bottom of his coffee mug. “Is that you who has to meet with the Labor Relations Board? Only a few months in and they’re already getting complaints, I can’t believe it.”

“The people need to know we care about them.” Despite his words Tobirama already looked annoyed just thinking about the stupidity he would have to sit through later. Madara did not envy him that duty. He’d never been very good at representing the little person without someone there, usually Hikaku, to provide him with a little perspective. Right now he needed to seek a little perspective of his own.

“Well if you’re not in too terrible of a mood after all that I wouldn’t mind seeing what this lab of yours is like. I have to admit, I’m very curious.”

“Really?” He knew he’d said the right thing immediately when Tobirama’s eyes lit up with the same ecstatic brilliance as they had the last time he accidentally went off on a tangent involving his studies. “You’d really like to see my work?”

Madara nodded decisively. “I can’t promise to understand any of it but from what Hashirama tells me it all sounds very interesting. And useful; he told me about a few of your inventions. Until he said something about it I never really thought about who invented any of the jutsu we use. I’ve always just taken it for granted that we learn them from other people and never gave any thought to where they originated.”

“It’s a complicated process,” Tobirama murmured. He did look pleased that someone seemed interested in what Hashirama had called his greatest passion. The small taste of what that passion looked like had left Madara eager to see more, to see that brilliant smile again.

“Would you be open to showing me some of that process?” he asked.

“Yes, if you’re sure you won’t be bored.”

Madara had the phrase ‘not with you explaining things’ on the tip of his tongue and only just barely managed to bite down on it to keep the words behind his teeth. He had absolutely no idea where that came from. Flirting wasn’t exactly something that came naturally to him but even if it were he and Tobirama didn’t have that sort of relationship. Sure they were married and yes the man was more than a sight for sore eyes no matter how ragged and tired he always looked but Madara wasn’t sure what had gotten in to him that he had almost started flirting before they even really settled in to getting along properly.

He went for shaking his head instead and shoving the last bite of eggs in his mouth. Like a mirror of yesterday they walked to work side by side after breakfast was done but unlike yesterday the conversation was much easier to maintain with the awkwardness of first attempts already under their belts. When they separated Madara felt buoyed by the light of hope. Susumu-sensei had indeed had a good point when she told him that it would be better to at least get along than to spend the rest of their lives hating the sight of each other. It hurt that he would never have the chance to fall in love, sure, but that didn’t mean he had to be completely miserable. If nothing else he had the chance to build a strong friendship with Tobirama, who he had to admit was pretty interesting now that they were making friendly overtures.

The first half of the day went by fairly quickly with his good mood uninterrupted. With Hashirama out of the office conducting building inspections he had the office all to himself and took full advantage of that to race through nearly twice as much paperwork as he normally would have gotten done in that time. After enjoying a pleasant lunch with Izuna and Hikaku in the office they both shared with a young woman from the Hatake clan he headed back to work only to discover that all the things he’d gotten done had been replaced with just as much work. His mood was dampened a little further when Hashirama returned in a sour funk of his own; apparently some of the buildings he’d raised with his Mokuton had since be torn apart for the new residents to make expansions or renovations and the very idea that his hastily made cookie cutter homes weren’t ideal for every single person in the village didn’t appear to sit very well. Madara did not appreciate having to placate the big baby on top of his added workload.

It was a relief to step out of the office at the end of the day and know that the next was his day off. His first stop was Tobirama’s office, knocking politely on the frame and hiding a smile of amusement when Tobirama jerked so hard he tossed his pencil across the desk, just barely managing to snatch it before it rolled off on to the floor.

“Ah. Is it…what time is it?” Tobirama glanced at the shadows on the wall with some surprise.

“Hmph. I wish my work was interesting enough to get that involved in it,” Madara grumbled. When he stepped forward to see what Tobirama was doing he raised both eyebrows to see not any of the forms they were all used to drowning themselves in for hours at a time but several pages of unintelligible diagrams.

“No these aren’t- I should have been working. But then it crossed my mind that I really shouldn’t be working on any of my more dangerous experiments with you there so I was trying to decide which of them was safe enough and then I had an idea that I knew I would forget if I didn’t write it down. I…tend to lose myself in these things quite easily.” With a faintly embarrassed twist of his mouth he added, “Hashirama likes to harp on me for it.”

Madara watched him scramble to clean up his things. “What, he doesn’t like seeing you enjoy yourself?”

“Um, it’s not that. I think it’s more my habit of forgetting to eat or sleep for twenty to thirty hours at a time that he objects to. I never mean to!” He added at the shocked look he was suddenly getting.

“You–!? Wow. Okay, so, if I haven’t seen you in a full day then check the lab. Got it.” Madara shook his head, in doing so almost missed the startled look Tobirama gave him. He pretended not to see it anyway. Did the man expect him not to care at all?

Okay it would be fair if that was his expectation but still.

As he packed up and they made their way out of the building Tobirama recounted a tale of the time Hashirama had to break down the door of his lab and restrain him with reinforced chains of mokuton in order to drag him away from a project that consumed him so badly he had already passed out twice yet refused to stop. Madara was duly horrified.

The journey to Tobirama’s lab wasn’t anywhere near as long as Madara thought it would be. When they turned in to the Senju district he thought perhaps they would pass through and leap the outer wall of the village to some secret grove or a hidden location. Then they turned down a familiar street he had walked before and he questioned if his husband had forgotten where they were supposed to be going. At the last minute, however, they turned aside and instead of entering Hashirama’s home they stepped in to the backyard of the house just next door where Tobirama unsealed the entrance to a basement cellar.

“Whose house are we breaking in to?” he asked as he was led down the surprisingly clean stairs.

“It’s not breaking in if the basement was specifically given to me. I have permission to come and go as I please, don’t worry.”

“That did not answer my question.”

“If you must know this is Touka’s house. My cousin?”

Madara paused to cringe. “The scary one who always looks like she wants to eat my head? The one who somehow managed to congratulate me on becoming Head of Security while also implying she would feed my intestines to a rabid wolf if I displeased her at the same time?”

“She does have a way with words, doesn’t she?” Tobirama was laughing at him, the likeable bastard.

Then they stepped through another door at the bottom of the stairs and all thoughts were pushed away from Madara's head as he took in the weird wonders of the first laboratory he’d ever seen. All the little bottles and chemicals he’d been picturing were there, neatly tucked away on their shelves with labels in tidy handwriting, but that was only one section of the massive room. The far wall was entirely covered with diagrams and notes all tacked up in nonsensical patterns he couldn’t hope to unravel. The counter that ran all the way around the circumference of the room was busy just below that display with stacks of note books and papers that Madara couldn’t see from where he was. Another portion of the counter was riddled with burns scars and the wall itself above that area was covered in hand written calculations.

When he finally managed to pull his eyes away from the madness he found Tobirama with both hands on his hips as he gazed around the room as well with a look of pride in his eyes.

“You made all this mess in just a few months?” Madara demanded.

“Hey now, this isn’t mess! It’s – okay, yes, it’s messy but this is science! These are breakthroughs! Just think of all the answers I can find in this one room, all the problems I can solve!”

“From what I hear you make more problems than you solve.” Madara smirked when Tobirama spun around to glare at him. “It sounds fun.”

A beat passed and then Tobirama returned his smile. Clearly the man was excited to show him around so Madara allowed himself to be led from station to station. Half of the scientific mumbo jumbo flew straight over his head but the bits that did stick in his brain sounded only logical and the base purpose for some of the projects did indeed seem very interesting to him.

One of the seals Tobirama was working on was an improvement on the storage seal that he hoped would be able to seal living beings inside for easy and rapid transport or unexpected assassinations. Being able to mail yourself to a target and then bursting out of the paper to end their life without a fight? Madara could definitely see the uses in that. And the potential for hilarity.

Throughout the little tour Madara noticed probably a solid half of the papers littered about all ended with thick question marks and when he questioned it Tobirama rubbed at his eyes with a tired expression.

“I can only get so far with my own mind,” he murmured. “There are so many areas of study I simply don’t have access to so I run in to dead ends with…alarming frequency. It’s very frustrating. There’s so many things that I know I’m close to having the answer for but I don’t have any sort of reference to tell me whether I’m on the right track or where to look next and it all falls to the wayside.”

“So you, what, need more books?” Madara guessed.

With a snort Tobirama nodded. “Yes, I need more books. People always underestimate books!”

“Huh. Well, why don’t you go check out the library then?”

“I have. I’ve scoured the library from one end to the other and read almost every tome we have available to the public.”

“That’s – wow. A lot of reading. But that isn’t what I meant.” Jerking a thumb over one shoulder back towards home, Madara asked, “Why don’t you look through the clan library? There’s a lot of stuff in there that we weren’t willing to allow the public access to.”

Tobirama knew that, of course. He had to since he was the one who had originally suggested it as part of the treaty between them, the sharing of knowledge, but it had been discarded as a major concession during the negotiations. Madara wondered what could make someone as clearly genius as his husband forget about something like that – then Tobirama opened his mouth and Madara realized that it wasn’t a matter of forgetting after all. Just another bad communication.

“You would let me in to the Uchiha Clan’s private library?” he asked, seemingly dumbfounded. Madara blinked at him.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because I…” Tobirama frowned and looked away and Madara realized easily what he’d been about to say.

“The library,” he said firmly, “is freely open to all Uchiha. When you married me you took my name. You are part of the clan now so there’s really no reason you should be denied access to our knowledge unless you plan to use it for purposes detrimental to the those around you.”

His cheeks pinking a little with shame, Tobirama nodded. Then he brightened and Madara was treated to the sight of sheer awe dawning over his expression as it hit home that there was an entire building full of knowledge just waiting for him to explore. “I suddenly have very important plans for tomorrow,” he whispered under his breath.

Madara snorted.

“Why do I get the impression that I’m going to be dragging you out of books to make you sleep instead of this lab?” He did his best to infuse his voice with as much exasperation as he could but the truth was that it didn’t actually sound all that bad to him. Tracking Tobirama down and dragging him away from his research just to eat a proper meal or make sure he slept for at least a few hours, that sounded almost domestic and the very thought of it was oddly peaceful. “Now come on, you promised me cool science things. Do some science!”

“Look, you don’t just ‘do some science’ in a lab. My studies are all very intricate and require hours of research and theoretical work and even setting up the safety precautions can be difficult!”

“So are you going to set something on fire for me or not?”

Visibly trying not to smile, Tobirama replied, “Yes, I can set something on fire for you.”

It was surprisingly difficult for Madara to resist clapping his hands like a child when Tobirama showed him the trick of adding just the right amount of two chemicals together to create a small contained flame. He was just as excited to learn how flash powder worked as he had been the first time he saw it in the field and the raw delight on Tobirama’s face when his demonstrations received such a positive reaction was extraordinary to behold.

When his husband pulled down a scroll from one of the top shelves Madara's imagination ran wild considering all the possibilities that could lay inside, knowing that anything he could think up was probably only half as incredible as the reality. Clearly he was not the one with the bigger imagination between the two of them.

“This is something of a prototype,” Tobirama told him. “It’s something I tinker with every once in a while to clear my head when I hit a brick wall in one of my other projects and it’s something that- well I didn’t exactly have you in mind when I first conceived of it but I can certainly picture you wielding this on the battlefield.” His eyes took on a slightly manic glint as he spoke and Madara had to admit he really liked that look.

“What’s it do?”

Setting it down, Tobirama turned the scroll so they could both see the kanji for flames painted on to the end.

“My original plan was to harness kinetic energy to mix with the elements so that if someone ever found themselves with low chakra they could use this without the need for any big flashy jutsu. The only element I can’t seem to get it to work for is fire but when I do, well, just imagine the destruction you could cause. Fire that can be thrown a great distance with next to no effort!”

“Please show me,” Madara breathed, causing Tobirama to laugh a little.

“I said I couldn’t get it to work, remember? I can show you the seal though. Mostly all I’ve been able to do is get it to explode.”

As Tobirama uncapped the scroll to open it up as promised Madara gaped at him stupidly. “You made it explode? With you standing next to it!? I thought Hashirama’s horror stories had to be exaggerated!”

“No, actually he prefers not to think about the worst messes he’s pulled me out of. There was that time with – ah, it’s not that important. We got the leg reattached anyway and I walk fine. I don’t know why he still whimpers whenever I bring it up.” He was rolling his eyes, of all things, while he weighted down the ends of the scroll to help it lay flat on the table.

Madara did what he could to keep his spluttering at a minimum but whimpering or no whimpering that was a story he definitely had to force out of Hashirama later. For now he kept his eyes on the apparently explosive yet otherwise innocuous seal laid out before them. It looked, in a word, complicated. Seals had never been an area he’d given a lot of thought to studying so much of the fūinjutsu arts were lost on him but even he could tell that the one before him was a masterpiece in the making. Most of the ones mass produced for every shinobi to carry, paper bombs and the like, were usually simple looking arrays with a minimalist look to their designs.

This scroll here looked like an intricate art project by a master with particularly steady hands. Writing so small he could barely read it had been carefully inked all the way around the double circle and the inside was a riot of symbols, lines, and nonsense that Madara suddenly wished he understood the purpose of.

“So, first question, what exactly is kinetic energy? Kin means family. Is it like some sort of spiritual connection between your chakra and the chakra of other people you’re related to?” He was sort of proud of himself for his smart idea until he looked up to find Tobirama blinking at him with a completely broadsided expression. Obviously that was not the correct answer.

“While I admire your attempt, no. That’s nowhere close. Here, let me grab a piece of paper so I can draw a diagram for you. People always understand me better with diagrams.”

His husband turned to rummage through the endless notebooks littering his countertop, presumably to find one with room left for more writing. Instead of letting himself get bored waiting Madara bent down to get a closer look at the seal. Even if he didn’t understand a lick of what he was looking at it was still fascinating and strangely beautiful. He could certainly see why someone might choose to study fūinjutsu once they had seen a properly complicated one like this.

If only he had the time to take up such studies.

Curious, eager to impress the man he had come here to be impressed by, Madara lifted one hand to trace the letters around the edges of the parchment. If he could decipher some of them and maybe determine their purpose without being told then maybe he could do a little showing off of his own. Just because he wasn’t trained at this didn’t mean he had no brains between his ears.

“Alright,” Tobirama said as he spun around, notebook in hand. “Now, make sure you don’t touch it because this seal is built to be extremely sensitive so it can be used without actively infusing your cha- MADARA, NO!”

“Shit, I didn’t know!”

“Get back!”

Before he could do more than take in the fact that the seal had begun to smoke under his fingertips Madara found himself thrown backwards and down, his body rolling until he slammed against the door they had come in through. He managed to right himself in time to see Tobirama’s hands slam together, chakra rippling through the air as a barrier flew up between them, and then the lab exploded.

Madara's last glimpse of Tobirama was of his pale face wide-eyed and frantic, his hair turned golden as it was framed with the light of the seal exploding, and in the moments before the concussive blast ripped through the shield protecting him Madara could only think that it was just his luck to screw things up when they had just started going so well.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #fanfiction

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raendown · 5 years

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Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 4254 Chapter: 6/? Summary: Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. Some are fought at the conference table, with whispers in the shadows, or even in the bedroom.

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Chapter 6

Some mornings Madara wondered why he even bothered getting out of bed, days when every little thing seemed to go wrong for him no matter what he tried to do until eventually he began to wonder if maybe some god had taken a disliking to him and decided this was to be his fate, eternal frustration over things that made him feel ridiculous for getting frustrated about it. Catching his foot in the blanket on his way out of bed wouldn’t have been anywhere near as big a deal if he hadn’t also tripped and cracked his nose on the bedroom floor. Dropping a bit of eggshell in to his omelet was already awful but of course he also had to knock over the salt shaker and spill half the contents over his would-be breakfast. Missing a throw to the waste bin wasn’t always terrible; it was when he was trying to toss out rotten food gone moldy.

Things continued like that all the way out of the house and across town to the administration tower, bad luck following him right in to the office he shared with Hashirama. Publicly the reason they shared an office was to show that even unmarried people between the two clans could get along and work together but privately they both knew it was because the building could only be so big before it got ridiculous and so many different bodies needed to work inside each day that it simply wasn’t practical to give every single person their own four walls.

Within five minutes of sitting down at his desk Madara had already knocked over his pencil cup, signed his name on the wrong paper without reading it, and dropped two different folders on the floor that scattered their contents absolutely everywhere. At that point it was only Hashirama’s presence that kept him from immolating the entire room.

“Rough start to the day?” his friend asked him. Madara snorted.

“A rough start to the day would mean I accidentally slept in or maybe burned the eggs a little. This was an absolute shit start to a day that promises to only get shittier.”

Kicking out halfheartedly at one leg of his desk, Madara was honestly and truly surprised it didn’t snap under the blow and send all of his possessions cascading sideways. With the way his morning had gone so far that sort of thing would just fit right in. He grumpily began to pick everything up and sort the mess of papers back in to the right folders until Hashirama came around to his side of the room with a small box held out between both hands.

“Would a cookie make you feel better?” he asked, giving Madara pause as he peered curiously in to the small tin like he’d been handed a ray of hope.

“If you ever offer me a cookie and I say no then take my temperature because I’m probably sick.” They looked like gingerbread, one of his absolute favorite cookies, so he made sure to select the biggest one he could see. The moment he bit in to it his eyes fluttered closed. “Oh sweet gods above us. When you get home tell Mito I will give her whatever she wants if she’ll make me a batch of these for my own.”

“Oh Mito didn’t make them. Tobi did!” Hashirama beamed and picked out another cookie, leaving it on the corner of the desk before trotting back to his own.

Madara stopped chewing to look at the snack between his fingers with light disgust. “Ah. I didn’t realize these were forged in the fires of hell. And since when does he bake? I’ve never even seen him cook so much as miso soup.”

“You’ll never see him do anything if the two of you don’t ever spend any time together,” Hashirama said. His eyebrows were in a judgmental expression that Madara really should have expected.

“Drop it,” he growled.

His friend did as he asked with a heavy sigh and an exaggerated shrug, enough to tell Madara that he might be dropping it for now but in no way was this the end of the conversation. Now scowling deeply at having his tiny ray of hope extinguished by the unnecessary mention of his unwanted husband, Madara scowled as he forced himself to concentrate on his work. The cookie in his hand felt tainted now that he knew where it had come from. He did still eat it though, as well as the other one Hashirama had left for him; they were good cookies and he wasn’t about to let that go to waste just because they were baked by a total jerk.

It did seem a pity though. If this talent for baking had been gifted to someone friendlier then maybe that person would have had more people to share their goodies with than just one brother.

Grumpy about being tricked in to enjoying the devil’s cookies, Madara refused to be the one to start up a conversation for the rest of the morning. Unfortunately this firm stance backfired on him when it became clear that today was one of the rare days Hashirama actually focused on his work instead of looking for any and all distractions to put it off. The two of them spent several hours in silence, papers rustling and drawers rattling as they both worked their way through the never ending piles of useless forms and proposals that no one was ever going to do more than skim through. It wasn’t very exciting but it was worlds above the constant tripping and knocking things over that had plagued his first hour or two.

Just before noon Madara gathered an armload of files and tapped them in to a neat pile as he stood from his chair. Hashirama looked up at him with an understanding expression.

“Daily delivery?” he asked. Madara sighed.

“I’d rather get this part of out the way before lunch; if he’s a dick about things then at least I’ll have time to calm down before I have to get back at this shit.”

Hashirama looked down at his own papers and shrugged. “I find it easier to just wait till the end of the day. Then I have Mito to go home to and she always makes me feel better!”

With a roll of his eyes Madara turned away with answering. If that was another attempt to get him talking about his own failure of a marriage then he was absolutely not biting. He would much rather hurry up to the top floor where his father and Senju Butsuma both had private offices on opposite sides of the main council room. Every day he made the trek up here to pass off the most important reports or whatever projects had been recently finished, usually ending their meeting with a lecture of some sort or a demand that Madara spend more time training for the duties he would someday take over as clan Head. As if he didn’t already drown himself in that stuff to keep busy in an empty home.

Tajima was sitting stiffly upright with his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose when Madara let himself in. Clearly the man was confident that his son was alone since he usually kept the reading glasses well out of sight for fear that someone else might see them and think him weakened in any way. Not many outside of the Uchiha clan were aware of just how badly use of the Sharingan affected them.

His father said nothing at first when he set the armful of parchment and scrolls down in the usual spot, leaving Madara with nothing to do but look around at the sparse décor of the office. One wall displayed only two ceremonial swords crossed and hung right behind the man’s head, probably an intimidation tactic for any visitors, but it was offset by the portrait of Tajima and his family that had been commissioned only a month before his first child fell in battle. Madara had studied the image so many times he could recreate it down to the last detail even without use of the perfect recall his dōjutsu granted him. Today his attention went to the woman holding a week old baby Izuna and standing as proudly as any happy matriarch ever had. It was only after her death that Tajima had begun to close himself off from the sons she left behind, living reminders, his grief a testament to the deep love they had shared.

“Why did you agree to this marriage?” The words slipped out before he even had a chance to consider them and Madara barely held in a cringe when he felt Tajima’s gaze lock on to him. Since the question was already out there he swallowed to give himself a moment before clarifying, “Mine, I mean. I was too angry to ask at the time and then it hardly seemed to matter since we had already signed the treaty but…why? I didn’t love him, father. I didn’t even know him.”

“Is it not obvious?” Tajima judged him with a single eyebrow raised in disappointment but Madara held firm in the face of a look he’d been under more and more over the past decade.

“Not to me. Could we not have found a way to bind the clans together without this farce? I mean – our traditions! You had to know that chaining me to that…him would deny me the chance to ever fall in love or find a person I truly wanted to be with.”

Tajima reached up slowly to pluck the slim frames off his nose without moving his expression. “It was necessary.”

“What? That’s it?” Madara stared at his father with lead heavy in his chest and felt like all the air in the room had been sucked away from him. “It was necessary?”

“Yes. I considered the needs of one less important than the needs of many. We all must make sacrifices in our lives and I made the decision that this one was worth the gain. Our people are safe and happy, our injury rates are at an all-time low, and what have you suffered for that? A husband who is worthy of your station and strength. You may not have chosen him but mark my words boy I expect you to see this through or I will concentrate on an heir with the intelligence to follow my orders properly.”

Never in his life had Madara fully understood the word betrayal until that moment. He had seen people betray their partners, seen comrades betray their friends, soldiers turning their backs on the clan that raised them, but it had never hurt him personally when until now he had never had a reason to feel the sting in his own heart, sharp and swift.

But this was his father. His very flesh and blood who had tossed him aside like so much trash as easily as saying ‘for the greater good’. It didn’t just sting, it burned deep down in a part of himself that he hadn’t even been aware of until it turned to ash inside his chest. Watching the absolute lack of empathy on his father’s face set his stomach to churning and he realized he felt physically ill to the point where he worried he might upset the contents of his meager breakfast all over the floor beneath him. Something hot and dangerous rose up inside of him until he clenched his fists and determinedly told himself that he would not show weakness here in front of a man who had finally proved once and for all he no longer cared about his sons in any way.

“Thank you for answering my question,” he ground out. “If you will excuse me, I have nothing to report that is not already covered in the files.”

No further prompting was needed for Tajima to return all his attention to whatever he’d been working on before being interrupted. Madara watched him for a split second, unsure why he was bothering to imprint that image in the back of his mind except maybe to torture himself just a little more with the reminder that he had lost his father as surely as he had lost his mother. Then he turned on his heel and left the office with as little fanfare as possible.

With this much rage and emotion filling him, more than even a good Uchiha should be expected to handle, Madara was terribly grateful to have his lunchbreak as an excuse to flee the office. There were very few people he knew might be able to withstand the force of his breakdown who he also trusted to help him stand back up again afterwards. Most of those people were right here in this same building he so desperately needed to escape but there was one to whom he knew he could always turn, someone who had been there for him since he was little more than a toddler learning to hold his very first kunai, and it had been much too long since he last visited her anyway.

Avoiding anyone else who looked even a little bit like they wanted him to stop for a moment, he exited the tower only a couple minutes later and set a quick pace for the Uchiha district. The thundering blood in his veins played double time with his steps until he finally gave in to impatience and took to the rooftops like an undignified boor in a hurry. Usually he had better manners than to clog up the pathways most tried to keep open for the security teams to get around quickly.

The small private market place within their clan grounds was quiet at the moment, just before the lunch hour rush hit the streets, and Madara was glad to see absolutely no one in the building when he stormed in to his favorite bakery, flipping the sign behind himself to declare that the shop was closed. From behind the counter there came the sound of a wooden spoon clattering against a pot but Madara only huffed as strongly as he thought wouldn’t make him vomit.

“I am not in the mood for a scolding, sensei.” His footsteps were loud on the creaky wooden floors as he stomped around the counter to confront the tiny old lady behind.

“What’s got crumbs in your butter, little one?”

He continued to scowl and yet with just a single question already the roiling in his stomach was beginning to settle. Not the hot ball of betrayal in his chest, that refused to shift so much as an inch, but at least he wasn’t in danger of contaminating anything in the bakery.

“Why did he stop loving us?” Madara demanded. Lowering her spoon, Susumu-sensei looked back at him with a bitter kind of understanding dawning on her face. “I am his son! His oldest child! Don’t I deserve to be loved just like everyone else? Don’t I deserve to be happy? How can he take that away from me and not care?”

“Ah. This is about–?”

“Of course it’s about my bloody marriage! What else does anyone ever want to talk about lately? Ow! You bitch!” Madara cradled the elbow she had just delivered a sharp crack to with her current weapon of choice.

Shaking it under his nose, Susumu-sensei delivered him a fierce glare. “Don’t you be yelling at me for something that stale piece of mold did to you. I won’t stand for the shit he pulls but you know damn well I won’t stand for any disrespect either!”

“Can I not be upset without getting smacked!?”

“I thought you wanted to be happy?” She raised her eyebrows and Madara paused.

At least she didn’t swat him again for rolling his eyes. “Why did I come here?”

“Because you know that I hate him as much as you used to love him. I always have. He loved your mother, there is no one who will deny that, but he was never as open-minded as he would have his children believe. You aren’t the first one he’s tried to sweep under the rug and forget about.”

Madara nodded, letting his eyes flick down the tiny body before him. He knew his teacher’s story well. She hadn’t hesitated to share it when he first asked, just a young lad but already standing taller than her. Barely more than three feet tall, Susumu was born with a type of dwarfism the medics called Hypochondroplasia. She called it ‘my head’s too big and my arms can’t reach’. One of Tajima’s first decrees when he took his place as clan head had been to try and remove her from the field, citing her need to enhance her movement with chakra just to function like any other shinobi as a fatal weakness. Susumu’s revenge had been to befriend the man’s wife and get herself appointed as sensei for his eldest son, going on to raise the strongest fighter their clan had ever seen.

It was a fairly good revenge, actually. Effective in all the right ways. Madara couldn’t remember when it happened but he knew that his affection for Susumu as a parental figure came long before the death of his own mother and the subsequent distance between himself and his father.

“Your marriage,” she murmured. “I can’t say I know what he was thinking when he made that decision. I agree with you that he should never have taken something so sacred from you but–”

“No, no buts!”

“But that is the way of things now. It isn’t ideal. You will still have to make the best of the things you have.”

“I just want the same chance to be happy that everyone else gets!” Madara looked around his feet for something to kick but everything close to him was breakable or needed to stay clean and he wasn’t looking to get smacked with that damn spoon again.

Susumu gave him a pointed look when he finally met her gaze again and gestured openly to her own body. “Do you think I have the same chance of finding love as everyone else? I’m not saying there aren’t a few open minded people out there I might be compatible with but there certainly aren’t as many as I’d like. We all have our difficulties in life, little one. You do indeed have the same chance as everyone to fall in love still, if you think about it. What sets you apart is that you will then be faced with a choice. Do you break your marriage vows, betray the peace between us and the only clan with the power to harm us? Or do you put your own needs and desires aside because duty is heavy but we have all agreed to carry our share of it.”

“Why is my share so much heavier than other peoples’?” He demanded. “Why is yours? It isn’t fair!”

“Tell me something, what do you know of the Senju clan’s marriage practices?”

Honestly he should have smelled the trap coming a mile away but Madara was upset and indignant and too caught up in himself to notice anything. He sneered as he recalled his conversation with Hashirama a couple of weeks ago. “I know that they expect to have their marriage arranged for them and that they’re allowed to sleep around with whoever they want until then but after they get married they’re expected to remain faithful. As if that erases their indiscretions beforehand!”

“Mm, I see. And tell me something else, what do you know of their divorce rates?”

“Divorce?” Madara stared at his old sensei in bewilderment. “I honestly didn’t know they could get divorced.” He scowled when she shook her head in disappointment.

“Then let me tell you something. When your father agreed to their unholy demands I was angry. Of course I was! My favorite little bumble pie being tossed aside so callously! So I looked in to the Senju and I asked about their traditions. Did you know that they are allowed to seek a divorce after five years if the couple are irreparably unhappy? Even more interesting, did you know that most of them don’t? The divorce rates among the Senju clan are so low I had to ask my source to repeat the number three times.”

Flustered, Madara blurted out, “So what?”

“So! That means that they are happy. Our traditions tell us that happiness is found and then kept. Their traditions tell them that happiness is built and maintained. It’s crazy and it’s different but it works for them. Don’t you think it’s possible that if you gave this a proper try there is even a miniscule chance it might work for you too?”

The hot ball in Madara’s chest expanded and his first primal instinct was to scream in her face that she had betrayed him too. Luckily for his continued survival he chose not to go with his first instinct. Susumu-sensei loved him deeply but she had never hesitated to beat some sense in to him with physical force when she thought it was necessary. So instead he settled for turning away and glaring deeply at the neat little row of tins lined up on top of the counter, samples of her ingredients for customers to check the quality.

Her question was ridiculous, of course. Never in his life had he heard anything as stupid as the idiocy she was spouting. Even worse, she agreed with something Hashirama had said! She made the point even better than him and the Senju were Hashirama’s own clan! Madara glared at a tin marked ‘vanilla bean’ and hated the fact that he could finally see the point both of them had been trying to make.

But his own point still stood too! Madara didn’t see why he had to be the only one putting in a little effort! And he wasn’t about to let anyone else get away with thinking so.

“If the Senju are all about working on their marriage then where the hell is Tobirama? We don’t even speak; it’s like I live alone!” Behind him he could hear Susumu-sensei releasing a light sigh.

“He’s even younger than you are and it seems to me you’ve made your opinions on him quite clear. Have you considered that he doesn’t see the point in trying to convince someone as hard-headed as you to change your mind about something? Perhaps he too is making the best of what he has.” She appeared at his side, patting his elbow in a rare show of gentleness. “I know it will be hard but it looks like you might need to be the one who makes the first move. Whether or not the two of you find love it will make your lives much easier if you at least get along. I don’t enjoy seeing you this miserable, little one.”

“You know, some day you’ll see the irony in calling me that,” Madara deflected rather than answer her. He looked down at her when she snorted brashly.

“Hah! You think I don’t? Boy, there is no better insult than me calling you little!” His sensei cackled and Madara rolled his eyes but one corner of his lips twitched with the first hint of a smile. As much as he despised her advice he was still glad he had chosen to come here. Susumu-sensei had a way of bringing the world in to focus again when he lost himself to emotions and she never failed to make him feel better – even when he didn’t want to feel anything but rage and righteous indignation.

She had certainly given him some things to think about now. Madara wasn’t ready to admit that she might be right and he definitely wasn’t promising he was going to follow her advice but he knew he would at least give proper consideration to what she’d said.

For now, however, he had a limited amount of time left on his lunch break and he wanted to be calm by the time he went back to work.

“What’s the freshest you’ve got today?” he asked, ducking down to look through the glass in the counter at all the cakes and tarts and muffins on display, each more delicious than the last. Susumu-sensei opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted by the ding of an oven in the back.

“Rhubarb pie as of right now,” she announced. “You’ll take the whole thing of course. And you’ll eat it this time! Don’t think I didn’t hear about you giving away those lemon cookies I sent over last month!”

“I don’t even like lemon!”

“Pah, excuses! They’re no more sour than you are!”

Falling in to the pattern of bickering with his old sensei was the easiest thing in the world and just what he needed at the moment. Madara carefully shuffled his problems off to the side where they certainly weren’t going to be forgotten but he could at least function around them until he was ready to sit down and deal with it like a proper adult.

Which was clearly not now. Right now he wanted nothing more than to get lost in the calming ridiculousness Susumu always seemed to wear around her like a mysterious cape – if mysterious capes came smelling like delicious apple pies.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #hashirama #tajima #susumu #oc babies #fanfiction

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raendown · 5 years

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Only one more chapter to go! I can’t believe it’s almost over!

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Chapter: 17/18 Word count: 2718 Summary: When Tobirama is exiled from the Senju clan without warning, without even the chance to plead his case, it feels like his life is over. What does he have to live for now without his older brother to believe in him? Captured by the Uchiha in his moment of weakness, Tobirama slowly learns to live again with the last people on earth he would have ever expected to care for - or to fall in love with.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the blog header!

Chapter 17

Explaining everything he had gone through since leaving the Senju clan took even longer than he’d thought it would. Night fell and the moon had risen high in the inky black sky before they finally covered everything, stopping frequently for all the interruptions he‘d predicted and more besides. Laying it all out at once made him realize just how much his life had changed so rapidly and, although he didn’t say so out loud, Tobirama was sort of proud of himself for how well he had handled it all. Sure he’d had his low points. Who wouldn’t have? But for each stumble he had been able to pick himself back up eventually and that alone helped him keep his head up high.

He was overly aware as well that he owed that strength entirely to the Uchiha brothers. Without them he would have given up and wasted away, either right there on the forest floor where he had fallen or in whatever backwater town he eventually ended up in. Just thinking about the sort of empty shell he could have become made him shudder and turn his mind to other things.

After he was finally finished speaking it was Hashirama’s turn to explain his side of the story. Strangely, it wasn’t nearly as hard to listen to as Tobirama had thought it would be. It had all happened already and everything had turned out alright in the end – so far. More than that, finding out the reason behind all the pain he had suffered, finally accepting that Hashirama hadn’t stopped loving him and that his big brother had not lost faith in him after all, it was a bigger weight off his chest than he had words to describe.

Now he knew the true culprits who deserved his anger, though he was extraordinarily proud of Hashirama for figuring out that he was being manipulated without Tobirama there to pessimistically point it out. Apparently even Mito sat back and allowed her husband to come to that realization on his own. They had all known that their own council of elders was capable of being just as manipulative as their worst enemies but none of them had ever suspected they would attempt something on this scale. Getting rid of Tobirama in an effort to weaken Hashirama might have seemed like a good plan in theory, he just wondered what they planned to do in the inevitable event of Mito and Touka banding together to provide a backbone should their clan head ever completely lose his own. There had never been a chance of the council taking full control of the clan no matter that everyone had always known they’d wanted to, even in his earliest memories. He wondered why they had even bothered to try when the odds of success were so low.

He also wondered how they were enjoying their new total lack of power, removed from their seats on the council of elders and the very positions they had held for so long abolished entirely. From what Hashirama said, many people had enjoyed seeing their faces upon being told that the practice of requiring the elders’ permission for the Clan Head to perform most of his duties was ancient and outdated. Tobirama wished there were a way his brother could share that particular memory.

From the look he could see Madara and Izuna sharing, he gathered that the elders’ punishments had not yet ended. He wasn’t the only one who was glad to have answers, apparently, and it just warmed him straight through to the core seeing the matching looks of evil anticipation on their faces. As clan head Hashirama could only do so much to them without being named cruel by the rest of the Senju. Outsiders, on the other hand, well there were a lot of things that Madara and Izuna could do without being caught or laying a trail of evidence back to the wrong people. He wondered if they would let him help or if they would insist on doing everything in his honor.

When all the words had been said and all the explanations given, after Tobirama had been given a chance to gloat maniacally over Hashirama’s decision to do away with the council of elders entirely, spitting in the face of all their traditions without so much as a hint of regret, it was finally time for Hashirama to go home so all of them could get some sleep for the next day. A village-wide poll was to be conducted tomorrow to choose the very first Hokage who would be tasked to guide and protect Konohagakure – and both prospective leaders were sitting in the same living room trying to hoard attention from the same man.

Clearly reluctant to be parted from the one he’d been searching for, Hashirama asked if Tobirama would please walk him home in a voice that was so soft it bordered on being afraid.

“I’m coming too,” Madara declared brusquely before Tobirama could answer. He’d made no secret of how he felt about Hashirama’s actions and still had little flare ups of protectiveness, though hearing that it had mostly been a case of manipulation had cooled him a great deal. There were countless signs that the two of them would be friends again soon now that all the misconceptions had been cleared away. It would likely take some time for that too but Tobirama had been picking up hints for weeks in the man’s speech and from the way they interacted it was clear they were well on that path already.

While Izuna opted to stay behind the rest of them set out in to the night at an easy stroll. The few Uchiha still out and about at this hour managed to give them a polite berth while at the same time keeping close enough that they could leap to aid if they were needed, all eyes trained on Hashirama mistrustfully with every step he took.

The moment they passed through the front gates of the Uchiha compound and in to the rest of the village Tobirama could immediately feel eyes on himself instead. He did understand; no one but the people he lived with had seen him in more than a year. The few missions he had run didn’t count since the people he encountered then usually ended up dead or caught in a genjutsu from which there was no escape, depending on who accompanied him. Now that he had been discovered by the one person he’d been avoiding the most, however, he refused to keep himself squirreled away. He prowled along unfamiliar streets like he owned them, unafraid of whoever saw him passing by.

Marking his own freedom came to an end when they stopped at the entrance to the Senju compound and he heard a familiar voice screeching his name, rough-sharp-loving signature inbound with enough speed that he would have defended himself from attack if he hadn’t heard the note of desperation in her cry.

Touka impacted him so hard he stumbled backwards under her weight, startling Madara in to a defensive stance of his own before Tobirama waved the man down.

“You’re alive! Shit’s sake, you’re fucking alive!” Her thick arms constricted around him like twin vices but Tobirama didn’t have the heart to ask her to loosen them. It was good to see her again. Of all the people he had missed she’d been one of the ones he yearned for the most, the only person he knew with absolute certainty who would have questioned Hashirama’s decision, at the very least.

“Alive and well,” he reassured her. At the sound of his voice she shivered and held tighter.

“You came home,” she breathed, syllables wavering. She didn’t cry because Senju Touka never cried but he could certainly hear how affected she was by his supposed return. Gently, Tobirama patted her on the back and avoided Hashirama’s gaze over her shoulder.

“I…made a new home for myself.”

Touka pulled away from him, keeping a reassuring grip on his upper arms, and leveled him with a confused frown. “I don’t care about any other place you might have gotten off to, we are your home. We always have been and we always will be.” Her brows furrowed even deeper when Tobirama shifted uncomfortably and narrowed her eyes when Madara stepped closer to place a soothing hand against his lower back.

“Not anymore,” Tobirama murmured softly. From the corner of his eye he could see Hashirama curling in on himself with guilt but he couldn’t bring himself to feel bad for saying it. “I lost everything when I was asked to leave. I don’t think I can ever go back and pretend like nothing’s changed – because a lot of things have changed.”

“Bullshit!”

“I know.” He smiled against his will; it was just such a her reaction.

She protested when he slipped away, leaning back in to Madara’s touch and releasing the tension in his shoulder’s when his partner slipped one arm around them. Incredibly, it was Hashirama that shushed her and pulled her back from ‘rescuing’ Tobirama from the big bad Uchiha.

“I’ll explain everything to her, I’m sure you don’t want to go over it all again so soon.” He smiled that same old open smile. “Thank you for hearing me out. I’m…I’m just really happy you’re okay, Tobi.”

“Whoa, hey, wait a fucking second. It’s been an entire damn year since I’ve seen him; give me more than two seconds before you send him away again you heartless bastard!”

“Enough.”

To Tobirama’s surprise his brother did not flinch from her words, only closed his eyes to take a deep breath. Evidently the man had done some growing up while they had been apart. It should have hurt that he hadn’t been there to see it happen – it should have been irritating that of course Hashirama only grew the hell up once Tobirama was no longer there to mother him – yet instead all he felt was pride. It was good to see the other man standing tall and facing the problems he had created without asking someone else to help him take the fall.

“Don’t you ‘enough’ me like I’m going to listen to you when I finally have my baby cousin back!” Touka jerked her arm out of Hashirama’s grasp. “It’s your fault he was gone!”

“I know. And it is also my fault that he will not be returning. Please, Touka, just let me explain what’s happened–”

“Why should I? I’d rather have him explain it to me! Tobes, you’ve been gone for over a year and you show up getting cozy with an Uchiha!? And I’m supposed to just let you go again? Not a chance!” The way her weight settled in that stubborn stance he knew so well told him that she was digging herself in where very few things could convince her to move.

Lucky for him he knew just the thing that would.

“Touka, do you love me?”

“Sorry, what? The hell kind of question is that?” He smiled, recognizing her way of saying ‘yes’.

“Out of everyone in the Senju clan I knew that I could count on you to believe in me even after I was gone.” His own way of saying it back without embarrassing them both. She still frowned uncomfortably, much to his amusement. “But I no longer consider myself a member of that clan. I was exiled. That Hashirama regrets his decision does not change the fact that it happened. And just because he is willing to welcome me back doesn’t mean I am willing to come back.”

“I don’t understand,” she admitted in a small voice.

Tobirama shook his head. “You will if you listen but…I’m sorry. I’ve missed you every bit as much as you’ve missed me – more, I would say – but I’m done. I’m tired. Hashirama will explain everything to you and I swear that you will see me again. Every day, if you want. If you care for me still then you will let me go for one more night.”

With her bottom lip caught between her teeth to hide the quiver of her own emotions, Touka balled her hands in to fists and shifted her gaze over to Madara.

“If you hurt him I will tear out your throat. Not even the Hyuga will be able to find whatever pieces are left over when I’m through with you.” She narrowed her eyes when Hashirama took hold of her arms again but didn’t bother to fight him this time.

“You know something? I believe that.” Madara didn’t even seem all that offended to be threatened. He looked more glad than anything else that there were still people in the Senju who had never lost faith in Tobirama.

A few moments passed in which no one said anything and Tobirama felt like a wall had dropped between them all with the two Senju on one side while he stood with Madara on the other, two worlds colliding but not yet ready to merge together. It was time to leave.

“Goodnight Hashirama, Touka.” His words quiet and his tone colored with only the barest shades regret, Tobirama didn’t bother to resist when Madara gently steered him away. It certainly wasn’t something he indulged in often but in situations like this it was nice to just let someone else take charge and lead him to where he needed to be. Right now he needed to go home and curl up somewhere he could feel safe after exposing himself to so many raw emotions. Meeting his brother again had been trying enough. Running in to Touka was pleasant in a way but also jarring in how little he expected to be assaulted with even more things to feel.

Behind them he could hear the other two in a heated disagreement and he was glad Hashirama was able to prevent his cousin from following after him. She hadn’t had the same chance to come to terms with seeing him again but he felt empty after so much upset and his brother was right, he simply wasn’t feeling up to going over it all again so soon. He needed time to recharge before he could even think of facing those emotions again.

He was grateful that Madara seemed to understand his need for silence at the moment. Neither of them spoke for the entire walk back and it gave him the time to quietly process everything that had happened, filing it all away in his mind, down below the surface where he could think about it without feeling like he would overwhelm himself again. A shinobi needed to function around their emotions and he had always been a very good shinobi. By the time they arrived home he was feeling much less out of balance, well enough that he could enjoy Izuna fussing over him for a little while before he decided it was time to sleep and dragged Madara off to his room.

There were a lot of things that came to mind when he thought about the concept of home but out of them all this was the one that always came first now, the sensory memory of how it felt to lie on his back with Madara curled up against his side, wild mane braided back so the man could press his face in to Tobirama’s neck as they slept, warm breath on his skin and a steady heart beating against his own. If the two of them kept crawling in to each other’s beds so often they were going to have to just call it eventually and combine their belongings to one room. Tobirama couldn’t say he would be all that upset about it, really. It felt inevitable in the best way possible.

He fell asleep that night feeling lighter than he had in over a year, cut loose from the weights that had been holding him down. The world wasn’t entirely set to rights quite yet but it was on its way there and that was all he could ask for. When his dreams reached out to take hold of him he was smiling in to Madara’s hair, cozy and content, ready for whatever tomorrow had in store.

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

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raendown · 5 years

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Pairing: MadaraTobirama Chapter: 11/18 Word count: 1870 Summary: When Tobirama is exiled from the Senju clan without warning, without even the chance to plead his case, it feels like his life is over. What does he have to live for now without his older brother to believe in him? Captured by the Uchiha in his moment of weakness, Tobirama slowly learns to live again with the last people on earth he would have ever expected to care for - or to fall in love with.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the blog header!

Chapter 11

He was only gone a few hours for the first mission, barely half a day of running and an easy tradeoff of the goods Izuna had brought for the exchange, but it was enough for the wind and the forest to settle in to his blood again and Tobirama knew before he returned home that he would soon be itching to go back out on another mission. It felt incredible to be doing something with himself again, something more than lounging around the compound and moping about things he couldn’t change. But even more so it felt good to be truly useful again. He hadn’t yet worked up the courage to ask for a space where he might set up one or two of his beloved researched experiments but that wouldn’t matter anyway until he could earn a few coins to purchase the equipment for them.

After everything they had already given him there was no way he would ask Madara or Izuna to fund something so frivolous even if the results of his experiments did have a tendency to turn out useless for the masses. The clan treasury was much better spent on food and other necessities. He could find a way to pay for his own hobbies once he started earning his own salary instead of relying on the charity of others.

The second mission he took was only supposed to be a recon excursion around Iwa territory looking for another pair of clan members that disappeared in the same area, a mission he shameless used his own reputation as a sensor to get assigned to, but it turned in to a four day hullabaloo when he discovered the missing Uchiha captured and on the verge of being tortured as revenge for some wrong committed two generations back. Apparently it wasn’t just Fire Country that suffered from the stupidity of a pointless revenge cycle. Things descended in to blood and mayhem in the blink of an eye but it was worth it to know that everyone he had come looking for would make it home safe. No amount of singed clothing or band-aids could be worth more than human lives, after all.

Stumbling back towards the compound almost two full weeks after he had left, Tobirama might have predicted at most a heartfelt ‘thank you’ from the men and women he had liberated, though he honestly expected little more than a brief acknowledgement. He was shocked when one of them approached him in the evening to press their palm against the ink where Madara had drawn their clan symbol on his armor, barely visible after the wear and tear and blood of the mission but clinging to the protection of his fading stasis seal.

“This belongs to you,” she told him in a tired but grateful voice. Tobirama was so stunned he merely stood there like a jackass until the second person draw closer to them with a sheepish expression on his face.

“If I am honest,” the man said, “I thought Madara-sama was crazy when word spread that he had invited you to stay with us. Now I am glad. Tamiko is right, you belong with us now.”

Overwhelmed, Tobirama nodded wordlessly and chewed on the inside of his cheek. He wasn’t sure what to say in the face of such honest gratitude. With their leader as somewhat of a misguided exception, the Uchiha seemed to be much better at expressing themselves than the Senju, a strange turn of events considering which of the two clans was rumored to draw their strength from the power of their love. By the time they set off the next morning Tobirama had been personally thanked by the other two rescues as well and all four of them were speaking to him with the ease of lifelong companions.

Such a visible sign that they trusted him as one of their own left him reeling for most of the journey back home, though they didn’t seem bothered by his lack of conversation. For the most part they seemed to take it in stride and he realized that they had come to know him as a man who chose not to partake in most idle chatter – and they seemed oddly fine with that. Tobirama found himself baffled when each of them began finding excuses to reach out and brush their fingers against him even as they talked amongst themselves, the same way that Madara and Izuna had been doing for months now, accepting him as he preferred to be without trying to force him to socialize in the way they enjoyed for themselves.

He would admit that it was nice – more than nice, an incredible gift actually – but it was still a relief to shut himself away in the privacy of the house that he had come to think of as his own, completely dark this late at night and free of anyone but the two men he felt safest with. Both of his housemates would be well asleep at this hour though so he made sure to keep his footsteps silent when he entered, depositing his armor on one of the stands by the front door. Shadows guided his path as he made his way through the halls and he had already begun tugging at the obi securing his underpadding when he stepped in to the bedroom he’d been given all the way back when he had still been considered a prisoner.

Then he stopped. Stared. Tried to comprehend.

Why was Madara sleeping in his bed?

Actually it was more that the man was sleeping on top of the bed rather than in it, curled up with his head on the pillow and the blankets undisturbed beneath him. His hands were both fisted tightly and his brows pinched together in a worried expression that made Tobirama’s fingers itch to smooth out the wrinkles even as he stood there wondering what to do with this surprise he had found.

Should he wake Madara up? Or should he just go sleep on the couch for a night and ask his questions in the morning? Both options promised to end with an awkward conversation but at least one of them meant that he would get to sleep right away rather than suffer that awkwardness before he was rested enough to deal with it.

The decision was taken out of his hands when the idiot in his bed stirred and gave a sleepy moan, one hand coming up to scratch at his unshaven cheek with a quiet rasp. Then he cracked an eye open and went still upon seeing Tobirama there with him. Quite likely it was his very presence that had woken the man from his dreams, their chakra reacting to each other unconsciously. Considering the fact that he had just been thinking about his own need to rest Tobirama almost felt a little bad for disturbing the man’s sleep. It didn’t look like he’d been getting much since the last time they saw each other.

“You’re home,” came the sleepy murmur of greeting.

“Sorry I’m later than expected. Things got a bit out of control for a while there. Everything’s fine now, though, and everyone made it home alright. I can give you a full report in the morning if you like.”

“C’m’ere.” Madara motioned him closer with a floppy hand waving in his vague direction. Tobirama folded one leg underneath himself to sit down next to the man’s form, curious and confused and startled more than anything by how much the image of Madara in his bed struck a few very significant chords inside him. Something that felt like possessiveness rose up in approval until he almost wanted to puff his chest out with pride. Which was absolutely ridiculous. What, precisely, was he proud of right at this moment? That he owned a bed so comfortable other people wanted to sleep in it too?

Memories of a whispered conversation he was never meant to hear dangled just out of reach where he still had yet to properly deal with them. Tobirama judiciously turned his mind’s eye away from them to concentrate on the sleepy fingers reaching out blindly to feel around for a grip on his dusty sleeve.

Then he was startled more than ever when he was pulled down to rest on the pillow, his body instinctively tensing for a fight until Madara rolled over to sprawl on top of his chest. With all of his senses on high alert for the smallest movement he was only just able to hear the soft inhale of Madara taking in his scent before the man melted over him in an all too familiar way – although this was definitely a less familiar backdrop for their almost ritual habit of cuddling. And he certainly couldn’t remember ever stretching out on their backs together in such a deliberate manner.

“Worried,” came the slurred explanation. “Missed you. Welcome home.” Tobirama set his eyes on the ceiling and told himself to keep it together.

“Do you wait like this in his bed when Izuna goes away too?” He asked. Madara nodded and gave an affirmative hum and he wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or not. “Are you going to fall asleep on me now?”

“Mhm. Keep safe.” By the way his sentences were so broken and each syllable slurred together it was obvious he wasn’t quite fully awake, already slipping back in to unconsciousness even as he spoke. The grip of his fingers was still pretty strong where he had attached himself to Tobirama’s shirt and buried his face against what he apparently deemed to be a pleasant scent. He looked much too adorable to so much as consider disturbing him.

“I’m safe,” Tobirama assured him, capitulating before he could allow himself to consider the implications of allowing this to happen. “Go back to sleep.”

That was all the convincing he needed to do. Madara was out like a light a moment later and Tobirama realized too late they were still on top of the blankets instead of underneath them. It took only a simple kage bunshin to fix that part, sending his copy over to steal an extra blanket from the pile of them kept in the living room, and had the added benefit of testing out a jutsu he still hadn’t worked out all the kinks for. As for the problem of what he would do when Madara woke up again and it really registered that they had spent the night cuddling in his bed, that would have to wait until the next morning. He was far too comfortable himself now to do anything about it.

Ignoring the fact that he hadn’t even had a chance to remove his travel clothes, nor had he had a chance to bathe and probably stunk to the high heavens, Tobirama closed his eyes to shut out the world and settled his arms around Madara’s shoulders. Cuddling in a bed shouldn’t be any different than cuddling on the couch. Just this once Tobirama allowed himself to reach for sleep without overanalyzing the situation, enjoying the way Madara felt against him without guilt and leaving his worries for tomorrow.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #fanfiction

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raendown · 6 years

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Well, they didn’t fight. But I got inspired and finished this in like 2 hours.

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 1997 Summary: Tobirama likes to play with his brother's hair and Madara was never sure why that bothered him until now.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

Heartfelt Hairdos

“You know, if you stop staring, it would probably be less creepy for everyone in the room. Meaning me. I’m really creeped out right now. Please stop staring at my cousins.”

“How about you go fuck yourself?”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t want to watch that but since you suggested it...”

With a noise of disgust Madara turned away from Touka, thereby also turning away from the scene which he had been staring at for the last few minutes. It was a scene he’d been witness to countless times over the past couple of years and he had yet to figure out what it was about it that bothered him so much.

Now chuckling under her breath in that brutish way of hers, Touka picked up her drink and wandered across the room to go speak with Mito. Izuna trailed after her quietly as he had been since his third shot of what Madara was fairly sure was that special brew gifted to them by the Sarutobi clan. He dismissed both of them as soon as they were out of his sight, crossing his arms and pretending to glance over the rest of the guests while he tried to convince himself he didn’t want to take another peek.

He took another peek.

Both of them slightly flushed with alcohol, the two Senju brothers were huddled together in one corner of the room. Tobirama sat on the very edge of his seat while Hashirama had sprawled himself on the floor between his sibling’s knees. As they chatted away, Tobirama’s hands moved in habitual patterns, combing and weaving and pinning Hashirama’s hair in to some new style he appeared to have invented on the spot. It was always a new style, never the same hairdo twice.

Madara wished he could blame this on the alcohol but he’d seen them do this same thing in all sorts of situations. There never seemed to be a particular reason that he could decipher. It seemed as though neither one of them really gave it much thought, simply moving over to where ever the other was and immediately commencing this odd ritual wherein Tobirama would put Hashirama’s hair up somehow and fix it in place with the pins that Hashirama had taken to keeping tucked away in one of his sleeves. Stuck

Was it a general brotherly thing? Madara didn’t think so. He never felt any need to play with Izuna’s hair and the younger man’s ponytail fell down nearly as low as Hashirama’s did so that couldn’t be it.

Perhaps the oddest part was that it only ever happened in a casual setting. For formal events when Hashirama needed to look his best he always sought out Mito, even though her creations never turned out quite the way Tobirama’s did. As far as he could tell they never spoke about it. It just...happened.

And it bothered him, although he couldn’t have said why. It wasn’t his hair; why should he care what they did with it?

Huffing with irritation, Madara stood up and marched in to the kitchen to refill his cup from the punch bowl he’d watched Hashirama fill earlier. With three different juices and two kinds of alcohol it was perfect for helping him deal with the spinning his head was doing by making it spin all the faster. Maybe he could get his head spinning fast enough to toss all of these strange thoughts away. Once his cup was full he skirted the edge of the gathering - noting peripherally that Hashirama’s hair was looking particularly loopy this time around - and headed out the back door.

Stars burned brightly overhead, clearly visible in the cloudless night sky, and Madara set his eyes on them as he plopped himself halfway down the porch steps to breathe deeply of the warm summer air. The weather was absolutely perfect now that they had finally reached the end of the recent heat wave.

It took a little while before someone found him out there. No one wanted to come look at the empty backyard when the party was still going on strong inside home of the Senju main family. Madara, on the other hand, preferred the quiet of his new spot. Quiet was surprisingly hard to come by ever since they’d built the village and he’d never been all that comfortable at parties anyway. He wasn’t exactly a people person the way Hashirama was.

When someone did find him he was only a little startled to see who it was. Tobirama also had a notable preference for calm conversation rather than loud gatherings so when he slipped out the back door and came to sit close to Madara, it was an equal chance whether he came out here looking for the older man or if he simply wanted a place to escape for a while.

“Your brother gets less and less intelligent with every glass of punch he consumes.”

Madara barked out a laugh. “I would be offended on his behalf were that not the truest statement I’ve ever heard. What’s he doing now?”

“He challenged my cousin to an arm wrestle. Touka nearly flipped him off his chair.”

“Likely he was too busy staring at her to give a proper effort.”

“He was. It was embarrassing for everyone watching.”

“Ah well. At least he’s happy. Do you think that cousin of yours will ever actually give him the time of day? Sometimes his mooning can get a little tiresome.”

“Of course.” Tobirama paused to rethink his answer. “Eventually. I think she’s just enjoying being the center of his attention a little too much to give it up so soon. She’s more used to men fearing her than worshiping her and its going to her head a little.”

Shaking his head a little in amusement, Madara tilted his head back up to look at the stars again, picking out all the constellations that he could name. Having learned a long time ago to navigate his way home by the stars no matter where he was, it wasn’t that hard to silently rattle off most of them by rote.

To the side and a little behind him, he could hear Tobirama shuffling around where he had perched himself on the very top step. When the noise moved to just behind himself Madara assumed the other man had had his fill of fresh air and was heading back inside. He was startled enough to jump a little bit when two feet settled themselves on either side of him and a pair of hands were suddenly winding themselves in to his hair.

Before he had time to gather his scattered thought and demand to know what the hell his companion was doing, Tobirama was speaking again.

“I have to admit, though, I’m rather a fan of this stage as well myself. Watching Izuna make a fool of himself will never fail to be the highlight of my day.” Madara blinked in confusion.

“What?” he croaked.

“You know, like that time he found out her favorite flowers were the ones he’s allergic to but he picked her a giant bouquet anyway?” Tobirama’s fingers combed gently through his think tangles, starting at the temples and working their way downwards to tame the wild strands. “Not laughing in his face was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

“Holding back like that doesn’t seem very you,” Madara ventured. A warm chuckled drifted across his ear and he suppressed a shiver at the sound of it.

“Normally I wouldn’t, true. He just looked so pathetic I truly didn’t have the heart to bring him any lower than he already was.”

Madara made a small noise of agreement; he’d been there before. His brother was even better at looking pathetic than Hashirama was, although Hashirama had less and less time for goofy antics as the duties of the Hokage piled up on him.

For a while neither of them said much. Once Tobirama was finished straightening his hair the man began to separate it and tug it in seemingly random patterns. Madara could detect no rhyme or reason to the motions and he could not possibly have guessed what was being done to his head. For all he knew his companions could be weaving him a flower crown and he would never know until it was finished.

Still, he made no move to stop it from happening A mere hour ago he’d been watching this from an outsider’s point of view, wondering why the sight of it bothered him so much, and now he understood. Jealousy, pure and simple. It had bothered him because he’d wished himself in Hashirama’s place.

Having a crush was a pesky thing, especially when one was so skilled at denial that one sometimes forgot about one’s own feelings.

“There we go. All done.”

“Eh?” Madara blinked, not having noticed that Tobirama had finished.

“Looks good on you.”

Reaching up behind his own head, Madara patted around gently so as not to disturb anything, trying to determine by touch alone what sort of creation Tobirama had given him. The longer he probed the deeper his frown became until he swiped his hand carelessly along the top of his head.

“It’s a ponytail. All you did was put it in a ponytail!”

“Well I used as my pins and stuff on Hashirama.”

“So what the hell took you so long then?” he demanded. Madara jumped for the second time when the hands that had been playing with his hair landed on his shoulders and Tobirama curled around his back to whisper in his ear.

“Perhaps I was looking for an excuse to touch you for a while.”

Madara’s jaw dropped, lost for words.

“Thank you for indulging me. If I’ve made you uncomfortable I can leave.”

“No!” Clearing his throat, Madara flushed at his own outburst. “No you’re, er, fine where you are.”

“Am I?”

“Uh, yes?”

The hands on his shoulders slid down to drape loosely around his chest. “I hope you don’t mind but this seems a bit more comfortable.”

“No. I don’t mind.”

With a quiet sound of content Tobirama lowered his head on to Madara’s shoulder, nuzzling close to his neck before falling still. Madara held as still as possible just in case this was a dream; he didn’t want to risk disturbing their position and accidentally waking up to reality again.

As time went on, however, it became clearer and clearer than this was far from a dream. Tobirama’s fingers traced senseless patterns on the front of his shirt, deep voice murmuring the occasional thought in his ear, and slowly a smile grew as he accepted the fact that maybe his feelings weren’t quite as unrequited as he’d always assumed them to be.

“Should we head back inside soon?” Tobirama asked after a while. “Eventually someone will notice that neither of us have been present for a while.”

“They’ll probably assume that we’ve both left,” Madara pointed out. It was well-known that neither of them enjoyed parties very much.

“What then? Stay here?”

“I’m happy where I am.”

Arms tightened around him as Tobirama hummed and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. “As am I.”

No one else ventured in to the backyard for at least another hour but by the time they did so they just missed the two men who had been seated on the porch only a few minutes before, wrapped up together and trading whispered words to see who could make the other blush the deepest.

Hashirama swayed and scratched his well-pinned head, wondering where his brother had gone. Or for that matter where Madara had disappeared to. He could have sworn he’d seen both of them earlier. With a loose shrug he turned to go back inside, unaware of the two figures who had only just left the party to make their way to a more private place to continue their conversation.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #fanfiction #naruto shippuden

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raendown · 6 years

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I don’t even know who to feel more sorry for in this chapter.

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 3317 Story summary: Madara used to be a man feared even by those of his own clan. Life's really changed since the village was built. Among those changes is his relationship with one Senju Tobirama - and apparently everyone else knew about this even before he did.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

“You stop that.”

Although Madara had used his firmest tone, one with which he could control entire battlefields, Kagami did not listen. The infant cradled in his arms continued to fuss and cry as though he hadn’t even spoken. Rather rude, in his opinion.

Kagami’s parents had left two days ago, entrusting him to care for their child while they travelled to the other side of Fire Country to visit some relative or other who…who…alright so Madara hadn’t listened too closely to the reason behind their journey. They’d been gone two days and would be gone for several more and that was all he’d paid attention to. Had he not known that the region they were travelling to was currently too dangerous because of clan infighting he would have tried to convince them to take the baby along for the trip. Unfortunately he’d had a spontaneous rash of goodwill and agreed to watch him while they were gone, something he was currently regretting.

He was starting to suspect that Kagami was more aware than any six month old child had any right to be. If there were someone else around he was as calm as one could ever hope for yet each time Madara was left alone with him he began to cry. Did he already hate his clan Head so much? What had Madara even done to him yet that could warrant such dislike?

More worrisome than a possible distaste for his current caretaker, Kagami’s coloring was what was causing Madara concern today. As a true-blooded Uchiha his skin should have been a lovely light shade of ivory, with that translucent glow which romance novels the world over lauded as “creamy” and “milky” and all other sorts of disturbingly food related adjectives. He had indeed been the correct color when they both woke up that morning. Now, however, he was flushed a light pink across his face and his nose had begun to run. Madara had given some thought to plugging his nostrils with tissue so he wouldn’t have to keep wiping up the disgusting mess but worried that it would stop him from breathing.

“You’re the wrong color,” he informed Kagami, trying to sound at least marginally calmer than he really felt. “I don’t like it.”

There were quite a few things he didn’t like about this and, though he’d been trying to deal with the situation on his own for a few hours now, it felt as though things were quickly spiraling out of his ability to control. The screaming he could deal with. He knew how to fix that now: if all else failed, he could just go find another adult and leave Kagami with them for a bit. That usually seemed to work. It was a conspiracy, he would swear. The runny nose he had reluctantly learned to live with by carrying a pocketful of tissues and cringing with each wipe. The diarrhea and occasional vomiting, on the other hand, he wasn’t sure what to do with.

With great reluctance and a lot of loud complaining, Madara had grown used to changing an infant’s diaper. It was disgusting but he could hardly leave little Kagami to stew in his own excrement. This, though…this was an entirely different level. The frequency! The consistency! The smell! His panic levels only rose when the vomiting began.

It took until three hours past lunch for Madara to give in. He needed help. Izuna was away on a mission and it was becoming clear that whatever was wrong with Kagami – and something obviously was wrong – it was not something he knew how to fix. He’d only waited so long for the fear that he would be told this was all somehow his fault. He very much did not want Kagami’s parents to come home only to find out he had broken their child while they’d been gone.

Could a clan Head be impeached for accidental breakage of a child? He’d have to look that up in the annals.

Since the first step to recovery is admitting you need help, Madara figured he had already given in and he might as well leap with both feet. If he wanted someone to help him then he should go to an expert. He should go to someone with childcare experience whom he could be certain would know what they were doing. He should go to Tobirama.

Kagami did nothing but fuss and dribble out a little more snot when Madara balanced him on his lap and raised both hands, forming a few shorts seals before pressing one down on to the couch cushions next to him. A puff of smoke formed under his fingers and when he lifted his hand it was to see a young cat in the same spot he had just touched. The gray tabby stretched, jaws opening in a wide yawn.

“Mrow! Madara-sama called. What could he want? Mrow!”

“Asami,” he greeted his summon. “I need you to go to Tobirama and tell him I need him. Life or death. Very important.”

“What Madara-sama asks, so shall I do. Mrow!” Being a cat, Asami made sure to casually lick her paw a few times before deigning to rise and doing as she’d said she would. She leapt on to the back of the couch and bounded out the open window, heading off in the direction of the Senju compound.

Alone once more, Madara wriggled his arms underneath Kagami and lifted the boy to his chest, trying to imitate the pleasant tune he’d heard Tobirama singing for Kagami when the two of them had first met. He hadn’t attempted to sing so much as a single note since he was a child trying to calm Izuna with a lullaby. Now as an adult he suddenly understood why his little brother had only cried louder: his voice was the exact opposite of calming. When he tried to hum it sounded more like a weasel gasping out its dying breaths in an accusatory manner. It was little wonder when Kagami began to fuss louder.

He had less than five minutes to wait before his front door was thrown open and a familiar figure burst in, expression tight and weapon at the ready. He looked prepared for war until he spotted the two poor figures in the corner of the room. Madara and Tobirama blinked at each with equal amounts of surprise, Kagami’s wails the only thing filling the silence of the house.

“Uhm…” Madara murmured intelligently. Tobirama glared at him.

“Your summon came to fetch me. Said it was ‘life or death’. I see no death happening here, Uchiha.”

With the rising panic still swirling around in his chest, Madara stood from the couch and lifted the crying child in his arms a little higher. “Not yet!” he wailed. “He could be dying, Senju! What did I do? Why is he red? How do I fix him!?”

“Calm down,” Tobirama told him, automatically slipping in to a soothing tone as he sheathed his kunai. “Go back to the start. What’s wrong?” Madara took a breath, trying to calm himself as ordered. It didn’t work.

“He won’t stop crying again. And he’s all red. And his nose runs and his shit runs and his vomit runs. He’s just…runny! From everywhere! Did I do something wrong?” His eyes widened, composure slipping again. “I can’t kill a baby, Tobirama, especially not an Uchiha baby!”

“Alright, it’s okay. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. Let me see him.”

Tobirama’s hands brushed his own as he took the baby from Madara, who could feel a tiny edge of the desired calm settling down around him at the touch. He watched as the younger man inspected little Kagami, pressing the back of one hand against his forehead and looking just a little too closely at his snot for Madara to be comfortable.

“Do you have a thermometer?” he asked eventually.

“Yes!” Madara leapt up from the couch and dashed down the hallway, glad to be of some use at last. He’d spent half the day feeling utterly useless until now. When he returned and handed the thermometer over Tobirama gave it a quick look before nodding in approval.

“Good. Not a rectal thermometer.”

“You want to put what where?”

“A lot of parents get rectal thermometers for children this young, since they can’t stay still long enough to hold it under their tongue and it’s hard to mess up taking an internal temperature. Personally I’m just as glad to use other methods.”

Madara twisted his mouth to one side. What two consenting adults did in their spare time was one thing – one thing he would admit to having partaken in himself. But sticking something up an infant’s ass before they could even understand what was happening struck him as weird. And gross. And weird. Did people really do that when their poor child was sick and miserable already? As Tobirama had said, he too was glad that there were other methods for that sort of thing.

Curiously, he watched his guest place the thermometer under Kagami’s armpit and gently hold one tiny arm down while he waited for a result. Kagami wailed and squirmed, making snot dribbling down one side of his face, so Madara fished a clean tissue out of his pocket to wipe it away with. He frowned defensively when Tobirama gave him an indecipherable look for doing so.

“What?” he demanded.

“Nothing.” Tobirama shrugged one shoulder innocently before finally checking the thermometer reading. “Hm. It’s a little high but nothing to really panic about yet. You said he’s been experiencing vomiting and diarrhea? From what I can tell, it looks like our little man here has the flu.”

Relief flooded through Madara’s system for a brief moment. “Oh. Just the flu. He’s not dying.” Then it drained away just as quickly when Tobirama made as though to hand the child back to him. “What? No! You have to stay and help me! I don’t know what to do with a kid that has the flu!”

“Just keep him hydrated and cool, let him rest if he wants to.”

“Please?”

Tobirama’s brows drew down, not in a true frown but more of a look of contemplation. Madara made a passing attempt at the pathetic puppy eyes Hashirama always seemed to get his way with. He wasn’t sure if he truly succeeded or if the other man simply decided to take pity on him but in the end it didn’t matter. He nearly fell over with gratitude when Tobirama sighed gently.

“Fine. When was the last time he had a bottle?”

“I think about four hours ago.”

“Let’s try and give him another bottle. It’s important for him to stay hydrated. That’s basic sick care, Madara, the same as you would do for yourself.” The younger man gave him a slightly reproving look as though to ask how he didn’t think of that. Madara coughed and looked away.

“Uh-huh. Same as I would do for myself.”

Of course, there was absolutely no way he would admit that he hadn’t even known that. He didn’t get sick very often and when he did he tended to ignore it and try to push through until his body forced him in to bed rest. Usually Izuna watched on with a shaking head and resigned expression, which Madara had never understood until now. Evidently there were actually methods he could have been using to try and help himself feel better. Interesting.

Kagami took his bottle with an enthusiasm that made Madara feel a little guilty. The poor thing actually took a break from crying to clamp his toothless gums around the nipple and suck it back like he’d been dying of thirst. He’d certainly cried enough tears today to work his way towards dehydration, something Madara also hadn’t thought of.

He worried when Tobirama sat him down on the couch and set the baby in his lap.

“You’re not leaving are you?” he asked. His guest shook his head.

“Don’t panic, I’m just running him a bath. It’ll help him cool down a bit and the water should help soothe him.”

Bath time, though it sounded simple as a concept, was a very small disaster. Before he could even be put in the water Kagami vomited. They cleaned him up and threw his soiled onesie in to the laundry with the others after rinsing it off then headed for the bath again. Then as soon as he was set in the water he peed and Madara had to hold him as Tobirama emptied the sink and filled it again. On a normal day Kagami loved bath time, always cooing and trying to hold the water in his teeny fists. Today he thrashed his arms and splashed both of the men trying to care for him, soaking their fronts. He wasn’t quite screaming as he had been but he still fussed and whined where he would otherwise had smiled, obviously uncomfortable in his own body.

Although Madara usually let him play in the water for a while, to keep him quiet if nothing else, they ended bath time as soon as he was reasonably clean. Tobirama drained the sink and put away everything they had used for the bath while Madara wrapped Kagami up in a fresh diaper. He was just reaching for some clean jammies when Tobirama peeked over his shoulder.

“I know today must have been frustrating for you but you shouldn’t really take it out on the kid, you know?”

“What are you talking about?” Madara scowled at the face hovering over his shoulder. “I didn’t do anything!”

“You’ve swaddled him so tight it’s a miracle he can still move.”

“Well you do it then!”

He stumbled a bit when Tobirama hip-checked him out of the way, grumbling and shuffling closer again so he could watch how the other man did it. There was nothing wrong with how he put on a diaper. Nothing! They were supposed to be tight or else they’d fall off! Even Izuna had agreed with him on that point.

Watching Tobirama was like watching something entirely different. The man’s fingers were quick and deft, flicking through each movement with ease and confidence as though he did this every day. Madara huffed and turned away to go find himself a dry shirt to wear. It wasn’t that impressive. Of course it wasn’t. Why should he care about the way he could tell even just from watching how gentle Tobirama’s touch had been? He shouldn’t. He didn’t.

Annoyed with himself, Madara made sure to offer Tobirama a dry shirt as well by throwing it at his head. Oddly, his attempt at violence didn’t garner more reaction than a poorly hidden smirk and a quiet ‘thank you’. He huffed again and didn’t reply.

Dinner, when the time came, consisted of simple sandwiches that Madara threw together while Tobirama rocked the baby and dealt with another bout of diarrhea. They both ate in the living room, taking turns cooing for little Kagami and trying to distract him even a little bit from the discomfort that his body barely understood how to deal with. While he did stop screaming his head off endlessly, he continued to fuss and squirm and have frequent bouts of piteous wailing.

The rest of the evening passed in a similar way. The two men shared the task of holding Kagami in their arms and doing what they could to soothe him or keep his nose and diaper clean. Each time Tobirama left the room Kagami wailed and Madara despaired that this child would ever accept him as a capable, likable human being.

When Tobirama finally had a moment to change his clothing and don the shirt he had so graciously been given, Madara nearly had a heart attack at the sight of him. He reasoned that it would be a shock to anyone in his position, seeing someone else wear his clothing for the first time. It was just strange, that was all. The weirdly breathless feeling in his chest must mean that he was also coming down with whatever sickness Kagami had picked up. Luckily for him, Tobirama didn’t seem to notice the effect he had on his host. The younger man sat down by his side and took the baby from him without a single word about the strangely rapturous expression on his face. Madara used the silence to take a few deep breaths and try to calm his wildly racing heart.

Night fell quickly but still Kagami was wide awake. His temperature hadn’t fallen, though it also hadn’t risen yet. Madara had changed his shirt again when the little fiend vomited down his front only moments before he’d tried to offer him a bottle. Tobirama had laughed, the traitor.

They took turns staying up over the next few hours. Kagami slept in short bouts, only to wake up crying and thrashing after less than half an hour each time. By the time he finally fell in to a restful sleep and stayed asleep it was five in the morning and both of his caretakers were absolutely exhausted. Madara stood in the doorway and stared at the crib in wonder after forty-five minutes had gone by without the child waking up. He gave some thought to checking for hallucinations but, in his tiredness, decided he didn’t care. If he was hallucinating then he might as well enjoy the quiet and the chance to rest.

After making sure that Kagami was tucked in just the way Tobirama had shown him, Madara shuffled slowly across to his own bedroom. He was at the edge of his bed with one hand reaching out for the covers when he stopped with a frown. Tobirama was spread out across the top of the covers, evidently too tired to even find his way underneath the blanket. He lay face down as if he had collapsed there, head buried in one of the pillows and both arms spread out in either direction.

“Hey,” Madara grumbled tiredly. When he got no response he tried again. “Oi, Senju.”

He poked at the hand closest to him. It twitched and Tobirama groaned but gave no other answer.

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping. Obviously. Hush.”

“You can’t – that’s my bed.” Madara’s petulant frown went unseen as Tobirama couldn’t even be bothered to shrug apologetically.

“Shhh. Sleeping. Tired.”

“Well where am I supposed to sleep?” If he had one ounce less of self-control, Madara would have stamped his foot. “I want to sleep in my bed.”

Tobirama grunted and slowly retracted one arm. At first Madara thought he meant to get up and could hardly believe that it had been so easy. Then he watched with disbelief as the younger man simply tucked his arm under the pillow he was face-down in, snuffling quietly as he resettled himself. When he went still again Madara understood what had been offered.

He was too tired to even process it.

The bedsprings bounced as he flopped down on to the mattress with little grace, curling on to one side. He didn’t have the energy to care whether or not his head was on the pillow or to check that he wasn’t crowding the other man. He didn’t even have the mental faculties to care that there was another man sharing his bed; it barely even registered. All he cared about was the sweet bliss of closing his eyes and allowing himself to drift in to a well-earned slumber.

Dawn crept up on them mere hours later, although no one in the house stirred quite yet. Had there been anyone there to bear witness they would have seen the first light of day passing across matching smiles worn by both Madara and Tobirama as they dreamed sweet dreams that were suspiciously similar.

#the more we get together #rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #kagami #fanfiction #naruto shippuden

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