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Chapter Text

Tobirama saw it happening before it did, saw that Hashirama was distracted, focused on their clan and his recent troubles making the Uzumaki marriage work and to used to his fights with Madara not going full out; more like spars than battles to the death, though no one but Tobirama would be able to see that he was sure – well, maybe Izuna if he looked, he certainly looked pissed enough when he glanced over normally. But today, today Madara was out for blood, Tobirama could feel it in his lovely minkfurclovevolcanovent chakra where it was rough and snapping with anger and distraction and had been for a while now (clearly something had gone wrong with the clan, there was no other reason a meeting of Uchiha should so agitate Madara). Tobirama saw Madara strike out for Hashirama, saw Touka distract Izuna, saw that though it wouldn’t kill Hashirama, but it would hurt him so much and Tobirama, Tobirama just couldn’t do that. he couldn’t let that happen; it wasn’t in his makeup, even though Madara was easily stronger than him if Tobirama didn’t have time to prepare and plan. Hashirama would live if he did nothing but Tobirama couldn’t live with his pain, he just couldn’t; so, well, he used every ounce of speed to put himself in the way, flashing between Madara and his brother and trying not to react to the way that even with Tobirama right in front of him Madara wasn’t looking at him. Not really. 

Madara snarled, clearly lost in his frustration and his second strike was even harder and Tobirama – Tobirama felt his sword crack, felt the flaws in the metal give and the hairline faults that had filled the metal at the first overpowered strike (how strong was Madara?) give under the force. The sword shattered. Fine shards tearing into Tobirama’s hands and the larger fragments flying – oh, oh, this, this was going to be bad, Tobirama couldn’t conceal it bad, Hashirama would notice it bad. A long piece was thrown back at him and there was no way for Tobirama to get out of the way as it flew towards his throat, no way to stop the shard from slicing deep into his skin, cutting deep in a gout of bright, bright blood. It was too much, too deep, too – he was choking, drowning as blood filled his airway and Tobirama could barely keep himself between Madara and his brother, one hand clapped over his throat trying to stanch the blood even as he was drowning on it; his suiton kicking in at the last minute and clearing a little of the blood from his airway (it had never let him drown before it wouldn’t start now).

Tobirama struggled to push aside his fear, he wouldn’t let Hashirama get hurt because he was distracted even if he would hardly breathe and his healing chakra wasn't doing as much as he needed it to, but his brother wasn’t reacting and – he couldn’t breathe, all he could taste was the thick, iron taste of the blood, the scent filling his sinuses and his brother – what if Madara – but the Uchiha wasn’t attacking and, distracted and holding onto his calm and life by his fingernails Tobirama didn’t think when he met the bright, burning red of the Sharingan and Madara froze. For a moment Tobirama would swear he could feel something, the faintest tug at his chakra as he looked in those mesmerizing eyes and felt Madara’s chakra actually focus on him for the first time ever; it was…addictive, or it would have been had Tobirama not been distracted with his brother and forcing down the terror of not being able to breathe.

"Oh” the Uchiha breathed, twitching as his eyes spun and – was there something strange about his eyes? Had he hurt them? Was he going to attack Hashirama again? His chakra didn’t feel as angry- Tobirama couldn’t focus enough to say what it felt like, not when he could hardly breathe and it hurt- but, and then Madara’s chakra roared out in a rush and it was too much for Tobirama’s swimming mind (he had lost a lot of blood) to handle, senses swamped with his favorite chakra and bringing him to his knees even as he struggled – Hashi, Hashirama, his brother-!

But Hashirama felt the flare of chakra and he had turned to Madara, bright chakra not even noticing Tobirama (of course not) until he realized that Madara was staring at – and then Hashirama was crying his name, collapsing at Tobirama’s side and making the albino twitch away in confusion- how long had it been since Hashi had healed him?- struggling to stem the tide of blood without flash-healing but – they were on the battlefield right? Izuna was getting closer and he always wanted Tobirama dead, Hashirama never healed Tobirama and something was wrong with Madara; in what was honestly a terrible decision Tobirama dumped chakra into his throat, losing all attempts at finesse and just trying to get the bleeding to stop. He had to fight, he had to help his brother, had to fight Izuna, had to – “No! Tobi, oh no, no, no,” Hashirama, Hashirama shoving his hands away from his throat, Hashirama trying to take over the healing and do a better job of it even as Tobirama fought his hands in confusion and his chakra lashed around him. “Not like that Tobi, no, not like that!” Hashirama was upset, what had Tobirama done? He needed to fix this and he could breath again but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. (Oh, now he really was silenced wasn’t he.)

Madara was going for Hashirama, distracted by recent clan problems and intensely frustrated, planning to blow off some steam with the one person that could take it. He realized too late that Hashirama wasn’t paying enough attention and Madara’s blow was going to land – it wouldn’t kill Hashirama, but it would be painful and devastating and Madara hadn’t intended – suddenly a flash of blue and movement and Tobirama was between them, taking the blow on his sword and falling back a bit with it (the force of that first blow caused fine cracks through the metal, Madara didn’t even noticed). Madara snarled, even more frustrated to see the white bastard that was always trying to kill his brother in front of him; his second strike was even harder – just wanting to get the annoyance out of the way, he didn’t particularly care when the albino’s blade shattered and sent razor sharp shards flying and he might have kept on not caring had one of the shards- larger than the others- not flown through the air back at the albino asshole’s neck and – a great gout of blood and a white hand covered in flickering green chakra snapped up to cover the gaping wound Madara had put in his throat and for the first time Madara met those red eyes out of sheer surprise and –

Oh.

Oh kami.

Please. (no)

The world slipped sideways, just a little, just enough, just enough that as Madara’s Sharingan met those suddenly unguarded red eyes he saw and everything changed. The world slowed, the scents of fire and blood and churned mud suddenly strong in Madara’s nose as he looked and his chakra reached and everything shifted; the white-Tobirama was pale and angular and his face was shaped by worry and concentration as he held his ground before his brother and Madara – Madara had never. Never. Never imagined it would be like this, like the whole world realigning around the singularly entrancing devotion and will and strength he saw in that moment. The exhausted but unwavering resolve, the enduring, aching heart of Tobirama’s chakra that refused to flinch even in the face of Madara (he wasn’t afraid of Madara), the strength of heart and chakra and mind that was suddenly the Center of Madara’s world; even as blood poured out of the cut on his throat that Madara was responsible for.

The horror of it hit him like one of Hashirama’s mokuton walls to the face and he choked out a shocked little “oh”, the hyper attention of a newly Centered Sharingan that was now safely stabilized by it (by finding the grounding obsession of his world, the fabled Centers that all Uchiha coveted and feared, now he knew why) all too aware of the pain and forced down panic on his Center’s face as blood poured through his fingers and still he didn’t waver between Madara and his brother. (What would it be like to have that devotion, that fierce defense at his back? Willing to stand between him and anything that wanted to hurt him? Would that be what safety felt like? What would it be like to no longer he alone against the world if he had Tobirama on his side? What-) But Madara had just nearly killed his Center, and Tobirama was still bleeding out; his eyes getting foggy and confused and seemingly unaware that Madara’s weapons and defenses had lowered (he couldn’t hurt his Center, he couldn’t, not again) and Hashirama was doing nothing.

Madara’s chakra seared out of him, uncontrolled for the first time in a long time, and Tobirama finally wavered; eyes going foggy as he collapsed to his knees, drenched in hot scarlet blood (Madara did that, Madara did that). Hashirama finally turned, looking at Madara before he even noticed his brother and only then because Madara couldn’t look away, and then dropped to kneel next to his brother with a strangled cry even as Tobirama twitched and tried to bring his defenses up (oh, Izuna was approaching) and twitch away from his brother like Hashirama healing him was a surprise. Hashirama raised green glowing hands but Tobirama seemed confused and disoriented and the color of the chakra he was holding to his own throat changed, swelling and steaming as Hashirama cried “No! Tobi, oh no, no, no,” trying to pull Tobirama’s hands away even as the confused albino’s cool, dark chakra lashed around him. “Not like that Tobi, no, not like that!” Hashirama yelled even as the chakra at Tobirama’s throat burned and Madara – lashed out, blocking his brother’s blow at the two kneeling Senju brothers without a thought, trying to force down the spike of betrayal that Izuna would try to kill his Center (did his brother love him so little?).

Hashirama shoved Tobirama’s hands away and covered his brother’s neck with his hands, pouring chakra into the wound though the blood seemed to have slowed even as Izuna gave a frustrated cry next to him. “Madara! I could kill the white-“ and that threat was enough to pull Madara’s eyes away from his Center, looking at his brother with an expression of open betrayal he was sure. Izuna froze, words dyeing in his mouth as he looked at Madara and Madara wondered if it had happened so fast and so completely that his Sharingan had already Center-shifted rather than the slower change that normally happened (normally an Uchiha hadn’t just almost killed their Center though); he couldn’t think what else would make his brother look quite like that.

“Madara” Izuna whispered but the older Uchiha had nothing for him, already looking back at where Hashirama was crouched over his brother, Tobirama mercifully alive but clearly hanging by a thread and – “Fall back!” Izuna shouted behind him “Withdraw!” the Uchiha nin doing as they were commanded though Madara hardly noticed, mind stuck on how much red was painting his Center’s pale skin (he wanted nothing more than to win that devoted heart, to dart forward and touch his Center, make sure Tobirama would live, to be sure- but it was Madara’s hand that had nearly killed him, had hurt him so grievously; he had no right to even speak to his Center after that, no wish to upset the man with his presence after everything). “Madara, Madara come on, come on we have to go back to the compound, we have to-“ Izuna’s hand was on his shoulder and all Madara would think was that as long as he was still around Tobirama wouldn’t be safe, wouldn’t feel safe, wouldn’t – jerkily he nodded, trying to reel in his chakra and forcing himself to let Izuna lead him away even as every cell of him screamed to check on Tobirama, make sure his Center was alright (he had no right, not when it was him that hurt him). (He didn’t see Tobirama twitch after him, didn’t hear the soundless whine as his chakra receded, didn’t know red eyes dimmed at a broad back turned to him and walking away – as always.)

Chapter Text

Tobirama hardly registered anything after the comforting sensation of Madara’s chakra left, head swimming with blood loss and the pain of flash-healing his throat even as he brother tried his best to shift Tobirama’s rather brutal healing into something less…heavy-handed and ease the leftover damage and scaring. At some point Touka joined them, face grim and angry as she took in Tobirama and the amount of blood covering his breastplate as well as the dazed look on his face and the concern on Hashirama’s. “What happened?”  she snapped, harsh with worry but Hashirama just shrugged, looking confused as he told her, “I don’t know, I was distracted and Madara – I don’t know, I just turned around and Tobirama was bleeding and –“ but Touka wasn’t listening, her face already paling with rage as she looked at her clan head, unwilling to acknowledge reality even with it right in front of him. “You fucking bastard” she hissed lowly “I know- we all know- that you and your ‘friend’” oh, goodness that was a lot of mocking on that word “don’t fight to kill each other, but you seem to have forgotten that the rest of us do! Izuna would kill Tobi in a second if he could! Madara it seems would kill anyone but you and – kami Hashirama I don’t even blame him, we are at war! Your techniques aren’t working! And your refusal to take it seriously has now gotten Tobirama seriously hurt because you weren’t willing to act like this is life or death!”

Oh. that. that was harsh, fair maybe and maybe something Tobirama had long wanted to tell Hashirama but, still, harsh. To his credit Hashirama’s hands and chakra didn’t falter on Tobirama’s neck as he tried to heal it better and he didn’t argue with Touka, just ducking his head and focusing on Tobirama with a tight look on his face, but Tobirama could do nothing to comfort him, not when his whole word was swimming and tilting (ah, blood loss, lovely) and it hurt even if he could breathe now (breath, yes, breath but….). Carefully Tobirama sucked in a gasp of air, shuddering at the ache as the pain and blood loss – it was too much and reality wavered, his consciousness slipping even as he his brother started yelling but Tobirama, for once, couldn’t so this, not even for Hashirama and he slid under into the dark like dipping below still water.

Madara was in a daze. Everything seemed to be happening far away and he was having trouble keeping up with it, mind stuck on the image of his Center covered in blood and gasping at his feet in the mud. It was tearing him apart to know that he was the one that had done that to his Center, what he had seen in those red eyes was so – he felt no hatred for his Center, it wasn’t twisted into a dark-Center in him and given that it hadn’t the idea that he had hurt Tobirama was shredding his mind (it was all but impossible to not love your Center, but when you were an Uchiha the line between love and hate was so thin for some, still, even Uchiha that hated their Center as much as they loved them and were willing to hurt them would never let another lay a hand on them, not when having a Center played into the Uchiha obsession and possessiveness – and even then the death of the Center nearly always killed the Uchiha, one way or another). His very chakra waring with itself as he was tormented by the thought of the blood coating Tobirama’s hand, drippling through his fingers down his chest; the sight of the deep cut in his throat before he had covered it with his hand. His Sharingan wouldn’t let him forget, wouldn’t let him stop seeing the second that he inflicted pain on the Center of his world, the first thing to calm the whirlwind of emotion that was his Sharingan (that was part of what a Center did, unless it went dark they gave an Uchiha peace by superseding all other memories in the Sharingan and easing the pain that came from never being able to forget – at least unless you caused them pain and could never forget that).

“Mada, Madara, come on, can you hear me? Focus on me, brother please, don’t do this don’t-“ Izuna’s voice was pleading and Madara could almost push away the image of Tobirama covered in blood but it wasn’t quite enough and – another voice, Kikiyo? When had his cousin? “Izuna! What happened, wh-“ she moved through his field of vision and the words choked off as she stared at him. “Oh. Oh no,” she was kneeling in front of him (when did he sit?) “Madara, Madara-sama what happened? Where is your Center?” oh, that, automatically Madara responded to the question “Don’t know. Center hurt, fight and – he stepped in to defend his brother” his lips felt numb “the sword – I didn’t notice that – the sword, it, it broke, shattered. A shard – “ but he couldn’t continue, couldn’t force the words out, couldn’t make himself explain that he had nearly killed his Center. Distantly he heard Izuna suck in a sharp breath and turn to Kikiyo, “Tobirama Senju was wounded, defending his brother I guess, he had a cut on his throat. Madara stopped me from – well, and then I saw the eyes so….”

Kikiyo cursed sharply under her breath, uncharacteristically vulgar, “Kami, this, this is bad. Madara, Madara-sama listen to me, it was an accident, you couldn’t have known – I, I won’t say its not your fault but, you didn’t know and we have been at war, you didn’t try to hurt him; you have to focus, you have to try and focus on the present; unless you don’t want to do anything to make this right?” and it was that that jarred Madara out of his haze, eyes focusing on Kikiyo, her sleek dark hair gleaming in the late afternoon light and her darkly lined eyes intent on his. “You accidentally hurt your Center,” (it was like a knife in the chest) “now you have to figure out how to make that better, how to do better and help him and make sure he’s ok. Unless you want to abandon him?”

Madara flinched, no, no of course not, of course he wanted to make sure Tobirama was ok, of course he needed to do what he could for his Center even if he was never allowed to be near the other man the way he so craved. “Right” he croaked, raising a shaking hand to rub at his face, feeling his chakra still twisting inside of him “right, I – I need, I need to, to figure out what I can do for him, how I can help.” Kikiyo nodded, reaching out to brush his fringe behind his ear, fingers lingering on his cheek under his eyes, “There are streaks of violet already, like your grandfather but less lightning and more shooting stars through the Sharingan. I didn’t know loss sped up the transition, maybe it’s like the Mangekyō” wait, no, it couldn’t be – “No” Madara croaked in a voice he didn’t recognize “no, he was alive, he was alive when I left! He was ALIVE!” (when did he stand?) Tobirama was alive and Hashirama was working on him and – (nononononononononononono) without a thought Madara threw his chakra outward, rushing through the compound in a searing wave.

He wasn’t strong enough to reach the Senju compound, normally. But now – now with his Mangekyō powered with the most intense emotion and Center-shaded, now he was strong enough to reach it, though it made his coils ache and burn with the force of reaching out. But it mattered not, what mattered was that under Hashirama’s brilliant, blinding chakra Madara could feel the cool, deep rush of Tobirama’s smaller reserves; weak and fluctuating in a way Madara disliked but alive. It was instinct to reach and try to wrap his chakra around his Center and sooth Tobirama, warm his thin reserves and revive him a bit; it was only after Madara had already done it that he realized that his chakra (so often overwhelming and painful for others around him, even now Izuna and Kikiyo where gasping on the floor as it poured out of him) might not help and went to pull away only to feel – Tobirama’s chakra was clinging to his, pulling back like a whimpering animal as Madara withdrew and rushing back to press closer when the Uchiha hesitantly let his chakra surge back around his Center, bewildered but glad that it seemed to help.

Even so Madara couldn’t hold the stretch that long (he would have to work on his sensing more, if his chakra helped at all Madara had to get better at giving it) and his chakra rushed back to him like a receding tide, filling his coils again and carrying the faintest taste of the cool, refreshing sensation of his Center. “He’s alive” Madara breathed, sinking to sit again as his coils ached, feeling faintly bad for the way Izuna and Kikiyo were picking themselves up of the floor and were too pale from the force of chakra Madara had put out. “He’s alive, weak but alive” Kikiyo sighed, scrubbing her face with a shaking hand, “Kami be good for that then” she breathed, exchanging a look with Izuna (a Center-broke Madara didn’t bear thinking about, the damage he could do if he was lost like that…it didn’t bear thinking about). “I am going to go calm the compound, Izuna, make sure he eats and – give him something to make him sleep. Tomorrow you can start thinking of ways to help your Center Madara, ok? For now you need to rest and let the chakra settle, it’s the only way to ease this that I know of.” Dazedly Madara nodded, drifting through dinner and eating what ever his brother handed him without thought until he was sitting on his bed in a sleep yukata holding a cup of doctored tea, for once he didn’t argue, well aware that he could never sleep as it was when all he could see was (silver shards of sword cutting through pale skin- his hands, Madara hadn’t even realized- a rush of red in the air, meeting those lovely slanted eyes and – silver shards of a sword cutting through pale skin, a rush of red in the air, coating his hand and neck and blue breastplate, meeting those amazing red-on-red eyes and – silver shards of a sword cutting though) and then the tea caught him and it all slipped away.

Tobirama drifted, wavering in and out of concentration (Hashirama was still working on his throat), stirring in his bed in the compound (where was Hashi? Had he given up?), fingers flexing as his neck throbbed (where was his brother, Tobirama wanted-), the pain was overwhelming (now he wished he had done less to install chakra blocks against substances, now the pain killers did nothing just as much as poison), and Tobirama whimpered without a thought – or tried to (there was no - no sound), it sent shards of agony slamming through him and his back arched, stressing his neck further (brother!) and it hurt so much, how was he supposed to – chakra rolled over him, thick and velvet, star fire and cloves and so much warmth. Tobirama felt his lips part around a breathy gasp as the pain was shoved away under the suffocating warmth (like slipping into a hot spring on a cold day), every muscle relaxing (kami that felt good) until – the chakra pulled back and for a moment Tobirama clung to it, desperate not to go back to the pain and silence and cold (where was his brother? But, wait, Hashi was never at his bedside anymore, hadn’t been for years, how had he forgotten that?). And then he remembered, he knew this chakra, knew that it was Madara’s though he hadn’t known the man could reach out of Uchiha territory; he knew this chakra (how often had he curled in trees near the border after bad missions/days/years just to curl a little closer?) and he knew that Madara wouldn’t want –

Only the chakra came back, curled around Tobirama almost like it was intentional, like Madara had been looking for him and trying to touch him (the first was possible, he might want to know if the White Demon was dead, but the second? Never) and Tobirama didn’t even care why, not when it was so warm and comforting and pushed the pain away under its weight. He drifted in the wonderful chakra for a long time and might have fallen asleep had the pain not returned the second the chakra finally receded, wave of agony dulled a little- enough to bear- by the last lingering warmth of Madara’s soul where it seemed almost to cling to him.

Chapter Text

Tobirama didn’t know when he passed out again but he was awoken by the pain soon enough that he felt like it had been no time at all and though he tried to grit his teeth through the pain it wasn’t long before it overwhelmed him again. His back arched and the pain clawed through him, worsening as he tried to scream and it put stress on his throat (he had dealt with pain before, kami he had been tortured before, but some how this was harder to deal with – if only he could get a moment of peace to activate some of his pain blocking seals that were tied to the crimson Gate markings on his skin), he lost time, the passage of minutes and hours smearing around him as he was lost in the circular agony. (He didn’t hear the door open, didn’t hear Hashirama’s shocked exclamation of his name or Touka’s horrified cry, didn’t feel the hands on him trying to hold him down to keep from stressing his throat, didn’t see Hashirama going ashy gray, didn’t see Touka finally knocking him out with Genjutsu just to make him still or Hashirama blocking his ability to wake again until his throat was better healed. The flash-healing had healed it, but not well and would have left problems afterwards so Hashirama had tired to undo it and straighten it out a little to make his brother’s life easier later, he hadn’t counted on this level of pain in the meantime and there had been nothing he could do about the snarl of scarring that marred Tobirama’s throat – or the fact that though Tobirama had been screaming it hadn’t made a sound - for who knew how long.)

Consciousness came slowly and Tobirama felt thick and dulled (how long had he been out?) but the worst of the pain was gone, replaced by a dull throbbing ache that luckily didn’t affect his breathing as that came clean and uninhibited. Blurrily the albino blinked up at the ceiling of his room, moving slowly to run his fingers glowing with green chakra over his throat; ah, the scarring was, substantial, and his vocal cords were a lost cause but Hashirama had corrected things well enough Tobirama could breath and move his head as he wished, as well as the blood moving fine through veins that had been cut. He would live and be fine, useful as he had always been if – silent (but, well, would anyone even care? In recent years it hardly felt like his words made a difference anyway – and Hashirama had long since stopped reading his Words, the journal going untouched in its drawer for years now).

Slowly Tobirama shifted, flickering chakra through his muscles and coils to make sure he was good to move before pushing himself up to sit, relived to see a glass of water at his bedside. Swallowing seemed fine, if a little painful, which was a relief and for a long moment Tobirama just sat there, hands curled around the lukewarm glass and mind oddly blank of thoughts; now what? He was still a shinobi and it wasn’t like he had run honeypots in years so this wouldn’t affect how he did his job – most of his communication with his brother was paperwork or mission reports and those could be done with mission signs, but Touka would actually want to know things like how he was feeling and what he had been doing and – there wasn’t – mission sign didn’t cover things like that, only mission related things so…he could try and find a fan? The Senju fan language covered more than the hand signs, but, well, the only fan he had was one he had picked up on a whim from the street on a mission; back before he realized that neither Father nor Hashirama had any intention of giving him a fan (and in doing so had all but forbidden his getting married and not recognized him as deserving of such, it had worsened things for Tobirama in the Senju for a while before he proved his worth other ways).

After, when it had become clear that neither of the people in his family that could give him a fan would (after he did it for Touka when her father died), he had given up on that but he had never stopped practicing the language with the tattered old fan he had found on that mission and now – now it might be the only way he had to communicate anything personal which…burned. A lot. Fans were the secret communication of the Senju, the way of announcing you were courting and part of the courting process, wedding fans with their many rigged slats instead of fabric webbing were a sign of your spouses regard, fans were the expression of the pride you had in your family members when they were granted to each as they came of age and apparently Father- and later Hashirama- had never felt that Tobirama had earned one. There was shame in using a fan that wasn’t given by the head of your family (he got away with giving Touka hers because he was still a son of main line and heir after Hashirama so he out ranked her) but Tobirama didn’t see what other option he had at this point, he would just have to try and keep from using it around as many people as he could and especially Hashirama; just Touka and the children maybe.

Feeling like his limbs weighed a ton Tobirama shifted to throw his legs over the edge of the bed, flickering his awareness out to find – Madara was in the Uchiha compound and there was something….wrong with his chakra, something twisted and hateful, feeling almost like it was attacking itself but that, that made no sense. Tobirama needed more information but all he could tell with his chakra sense was that all the Uchiha were on edge, Izuna and the Red Crane especially stressed where they lingered near Madara. What could have caused this? How long had Tobirama been out? Had something happened in that time? Most of the Uchiha were there, Tobirama could feel no injury or illness to any of them that was new and Izuna and the Red Crane- his first guess as he was closest to them and his other cousin Hikaku, who was on a mission,- both felt hale and hearty for all their worry. Tobirama would have to look into this, whatever was tormenting Madara like this couldn’t stand; Tobirama had to fix it one way or another an- wait, was – could, this couldn’t be because he had failed to kill Tobirama could it? Could it?

But that was the only thing that had changed, right? No, no Madara had never cared that much about him, never even seemed to know his name wasn’t ‘demon’, surely he wouldn’t care that much about whether Tobirama was alive or not?....Right?

Madara struggled to keep his focus on anything as time slipped past, his chakra coils a constant ache as he kept reaching out to find Tobirama even if he couldn’t hold it for more than a few seconds. It was hard for him to tell but from the banked feel of the albino’s chakra he thought the younger man had been unconscious for nearly a week now and it worried him; why was Hashirama keeping Tobirama so out of it? Why wasn’t he healing his brother better? Couldn’t he heal almost anything? Madara had certainly seen him do miracles in the past so what in the world could need Tobirama unconscious for so long? The worry tormented him and every time he closed his eyes all he could see was (silver shards of a sword cutting through pale skin, a rush of red in the air, a gapping red wound with glimpses of lighters colored tissue, blood coating a pale hand and neck and the blue breastplate) the moment he hurt his Center and the grim determination in his eyes as he still held the line between Madara and his brother. It made it nearly impossible to focus on the clan but Madara was slowly learning how to split his attention and work around the pain and torment; he could do nothing for Tobirama at the moment no matter how much he disliked it, all he could do was tend his clan and hope that Hashirama gave him a workable way to make peace work – he couldn’t imagine fighting on the same field as his Center again and running the risk of hurting him again.

Izuna disliked it but he couldn’t exactly argue, all to aware of the violet in Madara’s Sharingan from the abrupt Center-shading and the knife edge that Madara was balanced on; only a few steps away from going Center-broke if something should happen to the white bas-…to Tobirama. Hell they were lucky Madara hadn’t gone Center-feral already considering his Center was hurt and separated from him but the Uchiha head seemed to be holding on, even if he was distracted and his temper was running high; he was burning through the calming plant the Nara had given him to smoke at a rate Izuna greatly disliked (at least it didn’t smell as bad as the first one he had tried, that had smelled like wet skunk and Izuna had hated it) and his distraction was worrying, both for the clan and for Izuna for his brother. But what could he do? It had shocked him when his brother Centered on the Whi-Tobirama; if Madara was going to be overly invested in any of the Senju he would have expected it to be the older brother who was admittedly the more handsome of the two and the one that, you know, had a heart!

Izuna winced and glanced back at his brother’s office as another suffocating wave of chakra rolled out, he probably shouldn’t think things like that; who knew what Madara would do if he found out in his condition. When Madara had stopped him from striking at the Senju brothers and Izuna saw his eyes (kami his eyes!) he had thought, had hoped that it was the older brother (that hadn’t made sense but, it would have been so much better and Izuna hadn’t wanted-) and it was only later when Madara was telling Kikiyo what happened that his worst fears were answered; it was the W-Tobirama- he had to think of him as Tobirama- that Madara had Centered on, it was him that had been wounded by Madara’s action – even if not his intention (that wouldn’t matter, not to a Centered Uchiha) and it was him that Izuna had to figure out a way to make like his brother or Madara would never come back to himself completely.

This couldn’t stand. Izuna, Izuna couldn’t leave his brother suffering like this, he had to do something and it seemed to him the first thing he needed was more information about the – about Tobirama. Already he had put out feelers in the clan for anyone that knew anything about Tobirama and both he and Madara had heard Kenshin’s story about Tobirama saving him which – well, they had heard it when it happened but….Izuna was trying to be better about listening right now (he needed Tobirama to have good qualities, for his brother’s sake) and what he heard told him he needed more information, the only question was how to get it. It was unlikely that Tobirama would be leaving the Senju compound for a while with a wound like that so how did Izuna get into the compound?

Hmm, maybe he should go through the Uchiha treasures? And ask his summons? He didn’t call on the weasels often but maybe they would help him with this? Better than Hikaku’s crows at least (and way better than Madara’s asshole Komodo dragons, Izuna shuddered, those things were creepy). Oh! Maybe he could find a way to shift into one of his summons! Or piggyback his conscious in? Drat, this was going to take time and Izuna – Izuna wasn’t sure he had time, not with Madara being the way he was.

In his office Madara pressed his face into his hands, gloved fingers tangling painfully in his thick, wavy hair as he felt Tobirama’s chakra again; now awake (maybe? it was a bit brighter so it seemed like it should be) but weak and low, dim with something Madara didn’t understand and didn’t know how to help no matter how much he wanted too. His hands were tied and it was no ones fault but his own.

Chapter Text

A shower made Tobirama feel much better- how long had he been out?- but looking in the mirror did…not. It looked like he would be wearing higher necklines and he was glad he normally wore his fur anyway, as the thick white line was still red with newness and stood out clearly on his pale skin, distorting the lines of his red markings on that side. Ah, well, he had never been attractive before, exotic was the best he got especially as he was so often compared to his handsome brother; it was no great loss now (it wasn’t like Madara was every going to look at him and he knew that, he did. ((if there was a small dark part of his heart that was glad Hashirama was arranged to be married to the Uzumaki-hime and couldn’t ever – with Madara, well, it was a small part and one he refused to acknowledge))). Dragging a hand through his heavy white hair and smoothing it back from his face with water to make the wild white strands behave since he didn’t know where his happuri was Tobirama sighed soundlessly, pulling on a black turtleneck and shinobi pants, wrapping them at the calf before adding his fur ruff to hide his neck further.

It was then that the door was thrown open and Hashirama slammed into the room, Tobirama’s blinking slowly at him like a cat; a little surprised, he had felt his brother moving around but hadn’t realized that Hashirama’s agitation was about him. “Tobi!” Hashirama yelp “You’re up! And showered! Are you in pain? Did you dink any water? Can you swallow ok? can-“ “Hashirama shut up!” a voice behind the big Senju snarled and Hashirama shifted a little as Touka elbowed her way in, eyeing Tobirama with clear worry, “How you feeling?” she asked more slowly, waiting as Tobirama tried to figure out how to communicate, finally raising his hands and flicking through mission signs ‘functional-good to move-stable’. Touka’s jaw tightened at the signs but she just nodded, “That’s good, how the pain? Hashirama had to put you under when you weren’t reacting to the pain killers, it’s been six days by the way.”

Tobirama licked his lips and swallowed, shoving down the ache, ‘pain functional-wouldn’t work-chakra poison filters’ “Chakra poison filters, what-?” Touka’s brow furrowed but something more complicated flickered over Hashirama’s face. “You have chakra filters against poison, and they block pain killers too? What about medicine?” Tobirama shrugged, smirking a touch as something occurred to his big brother and Hashirama squawked “That’s why you never get drunk! You little rat I thought it was a suiton thing!” he spluttered, arms flailing wildly as Touka scrambled out of the way.

It took a little for the fuss to die down and Tobirama took the time to dig out another notebook (the irony of using a notebook now after the one his brother had given him when he was a child was not lost on him. Hopefully this time Hashirama would actually read what he wrote but Tobirama wasn’t holding his breath) and tuck it into a seal carved on one of the wooden beads Hashirama had made for him when they were children (a keepsake that he only wore in the compound for fear of losing it even if he had long since carved seals on every bead), he would find the fan later and do the same. ‘Done?’ Tobirama signed after he had given Hashirama enough time to get the worst of it out, folding his arms over his chest as Hashirama wilted, “Can I look you over again please?” he asked in a small voice, moving closer as Tobirama nodded and tilted his head back, shoving the ache to the back of his mind as he was so used to.

“Well, you’re looking a lot better but you really should take some time to-“ Tobirama sent his brother a confused look as he signed, ‘ready to fight-normal-functional’ and something in Hashirama’s face just, dimmed. Confused Tobirama straightened his clothes and gathered the weapons he carried even in the compound, getting ready to resume his duties even as Hashirama watched him with oddly helpless eyes, “You – you should rest. Tobi-!”. Tobirama flicked his fingers after signing ‘normal’ again, and ‘usual function’ already wondering how much paperwork was waiting for him after being out for almost a week. “Tobi…” Hashirama whispered, looking helpless, but Tobirama had no idea what that was about, so he ignored that signing ‘status?’ at them and tapping his foot until Touka reluctantly started giving him the rundown, Hashirama finally chiming in and tell him that there had been no movement with the Uchiha, like the other clan was trying to stay out of conflict with them (why? Good, but why?); which if it could be sustained for a month and Tobirama could convince his brother to listen-well. Pay attention, he might be able to send a proper ceasefire to the Uchiha like he had had ready for just about forever even if it shifted and was refined over time.

‘Affirmative’ Tobirama signed, wondering if there was a sign for paperwork and determining that he was going to have to come up with one, ‘join soon-rations’ and though they were clearly reluctant both his relatives did leave; allowing him to gather his last few things for the day. Inducing the old fan he dug out from under the bed, a tattered old thing with faded and ripped red fabric and old wooden slats that had once been lacquered black but where now worn down to the cheep wood (he was going to get splinters from this, ah well); it was pathetic, but it was what he had and Tobirama was good at ignoring things he didn’t like or hurt him and it wasn’t like he planed to use it often.

Outside his door Kasogi was waiting at his door, the child bouncing on his heels as he waited for Tobirama to emerge, “Tobirama-sama! Hashirama-sama said that I was supposed to wait for you and make sure you got to the dinning hall alright and I wanted to check and see if you were ok! Things were so messy without you but everyone says you got really hurt and are you feeling ok?! Are you-“ smiling faintly Tobirama set a hand on the chattering boy’s head to still the flow of chatter before slowly signing ‘am well’, hoping that Kasogi had already covered that with his teachers (signs tended to be one of the last things taught to Senju children, something Tobirama now regretted) and relived when the child frowned as he was clearly trying to translate before his face cleared in understanding. (Oh, oh, Tobirama wasn’t going to be able to teach again would he? Not like this. That…that was a knife in the ribs that he hadn’t anticipated.)

“I’m so glad your ok!” Kasogi cheered brightly, bouncing on his toes again like he was trying to stop himself from hugging Tobirama who stopped and opened his arms so the child could wrap him up in the tightest hug he could manage. It felt…good, it was nice and Tobirama was glad to know that the boy was willing to touch him, wanted to hug him, that, that felt good. Still it couldn’t last forever and eventually they had to continue down the hall to the dinning room, ignoring the watching eyes of the Senju, undoubtedly waiting to see if the Senju they trusted as the blade at their enemies’ necks could still be trusted. Carefully Tobirama tilted his chin up and let a flicker of cold chakra seep out of his control, meeting the eyes of anyone that dared to look at him and sparing a smile for the children alone as he took his seat next to Hashirama, Touka sitting on the other side of the clan head.

Hashirama sent him a worried look but to Tobirama’s relief it was toned down enough to go under the radar of those in the clan that would be looking for weakness in Tobirama. “How does swallowing feel?” Hashirama asked in a low voice after Tobirama had eaten a few bites and the albino shrugged, not sure how to tell his brother it ached but not so much as to be unbearable. Sighing Hashirama raised a green coated hand and touched his throat, waiting until Tobirama took another bite and feeling the way the muscles moved, looking relived after a moment “Well, I am guessing it hurts a bit but that should pass, and everything seems alright, you tell me if anything changes ok?” dutifully Tobirama nodded, glad when an Elder caught Hashirama’s attention again by making a loud comment about taking the chance to attack the Uchiha as they had backed off. Rolling his eyes Tobirama took another measured bite of rice (he was sticking to easy soft food for a few days to be sure) wondering when the Elders would stop trying to pull this shit and whether he would have to intervene again – after all it had been several years since he had last done so, remind them that the main line held the power and they existed at their leisure the way Hashirama seemed unwilling too (though maybe he would this time for the Uchiha even if he hadn’t been before).

Izuna looked at his summons, feeling a little flabbergasted as he looked at Iwoa in his winter white coat (it looked like that wh-TOBIRAMA’s hair). The weasel twitched his whiskers at the Uchiha (the house smelled wrong, it smelled of pain and trauma and power like the scent of smoke and it was making Iwoa’s fur itch where it emanated out of Elder-brother’s rooms) and sat back on his hind paws as he looked over the jutsu that his summoner had found in the archives; it was an old bastardization of a Yamanaka technique and it certainly looked like it would work so, well, Iwoa was down for it! None of the other summons had been interested (no senses of adventure!) but Iwoa thought it was a grand idea and going to be quite to romp to have his summoner’s mind ridding along with him as he infiltrated the Senju compound! It was going to be quite the mission and Iwoa thought he was the perfect person to undertake a mission of such delicacy and subtlety! It would take the utmost stealth, the greatest care, the cleverest paws, the – oh, Izuna’s eyes were red now and he was doing the thing! It was a good thing Iwoa was already groomed and ready and – oh, lord of long creatures that was a weird feeling, he could feel his eyes going red and funny and he could feel Izuna in his head and, wow, this was a trip!

Izuna. Izuna was wondering if maybe he should have found a more serious summons, maybe a stout or mongoose or something, Iwoa’s mind was about as focused as a goose on a caffeine (don’t ask how he know that) and it took everything he had to remined himself of why this was needed, though the thick scent of pain and power spilling out of his brother’s rooms was enough incentive to be going on with. He needed more information on Tobirama so he was going to get it, even if it was difficult and dizzying to share mind space with Iwoa. Lets go he told  his summons, ridding out the way the weasel reverse summoned himself closer to the Senju compound and slipped over the tall wooden walls (not fire worked but that wasn’t surprising), forcing himself not to think about all the info he could gather like this and focus on the target. To the main house, Tobirama will be here, Iwoa wiggled and weaseled through back ways and over roofs and drainpipes until they came to the large house at the center of the compound; it was more traditional than the Uchiha house and, harder, furnishings had hard edges and were sparse and it was cold. Cold enough Izuna was glad of Iwoa’s thick winter coat.

So distracted was Izuna that he didn’t notice the way that Iwoa had traipsed into the middle of the room and was sitting back on his hindquarters looking around, he didn’t notice until a big tan hand almost closed around them. Instantly Iwoa and Izuna both leapt high into the air, fur standing on end and his limbs went in every direction, the weasel looking at the smiling visage of the God of Shinobi in sheer terror. The man (kami Izuna had thought he was big before, now he was huge!) grabbed for them again and Iwoa scrambled out of the way, tearing down a hallway at top speed to get away from the clumsy giant of a man chasing them (was he crying?), oh kami this wasn’t going at all the way Izuna had had in mind and –

Snatch

Fast as lightning a hand plucked them up off the floor of the hall and tucked them in the warm crook of an arm, a firm hand pressed warmly to their heavying back as they tried to think past the rush of instinctive fear. There was a loud whine above them and warily they peered over the back that surrounded them at where Hashirama Senju was slumped pouting against the wall, having turned huge sad eyes on – wait, slowly Izuna and Iwoa turned to look up at the white fur above them and above that – Tobirama Senju! narrowed eyed at his brother over his high necked black shirt. “But Tobi!” the head of the Senju clan whined sadly, drooping pathetically as the red eyes narrowed further; the arms holding them shifted and the albino raised one hand to sign at his brother, Izuna only able to pick up a few of the signs that were similar to Uchiha ones. ‘no-jjfhksfhb-gentle-hafhb-hgkh-animal’ which, what?

“I was going to be nice!” Hashirama wailed, looking at the weasel with huge wet eyes “I just wanted to pet it, it looks so soft” he whimpered and Tobirama soundlessly sighed and – there was something, strange about all of this. Not just that his arch nemesis was being nice to him and petting him and had saved him from his brother, and said brother was – uh, not what Izuna had expected. Not just that but – “Please brother?!?” the strongest Senju whined, lip wobbling but Tobirama just started to shake his head only to stop sharply with a full body flinch as he moved his head, one hand flying to his throat (oh). In a rush all silliness vanished from Hashirama and he raced to his brother’s side with a glowing green hand, “What happened? Did that hurt? Was it the movement? The pull? Tobi-“ but gently Tobirama batted his brother’s hand away doing something to pull out a leather notebook he pressed to the wall and sloppily wrote in one handed.

Wrote in. Wrote in.

No, that, it couldn’t – it couldn’t be permanent, but if he was still – with Hashirama being such a good healer – could – no (Madara was never going to get over this, lords of fire this would destroy Madara - he couldn't tell him, not yet, not until he had a way to fix this and deal with a feral Madara).

Chapter Text

Tobirama stroked a hand down the back of the white weasel in his arms, glad Hashirama seemed distracted by his throat and had stopped begging to pet it; “I –“ Hashirama swallowed hard “I tried to fix it, I promise I did but your vocal cords were just – the damage….I tried the entire time you were out but I couldn’t do anything. The cut and the forced healing you did – not! not that its your fault! Even if you hadn’t-“ Tobirama waved a hand in front of his brother’s face, moving to write on the notebook again even if his handwriting was sloppy from the angle, ‘I knew’ he wrote, underlining it before adding, ‘what I was doing’ which…was an exaggeration a bit really, he had been more acting on instinct to make sure he could still function and do his job and protect his brother and clan than anything else. Somehow that seemed to just make Hashirama feel worse, his brother’s face tightening and falling, “That – Tobi” he sounded helpless and it occurred to Tobirama suddenly that he was his brother’s first failure of healing in years and Hashirama probably felt like he wasn’t doing well enough – or, kami, he probably pitied Tobirama for the loss of his voice and though he might not say it he probably pitied the fact that Tobirama was so bad at healing that he had messed it all up.

Shit, Tobirama didn’t know how to fix this; instinctively his hold on the weasel tightened a bit and he forced it to loosen when the animal squeaked in protest. He just, he knew he had upset his brother and didn’t know how to help, didn’t know how fix this didn’t –

Hashirama watched the panic mount in his brother’s eyes and realized with a sinking feeling that he had no idea why or what to do about it (how long had it been since he had helped his brother through panic?). He didn’t know his brother any longer, didn’t know his triggers and didn’t know what could sooth him; didn’t know what his facial expressions meant or how to read them, how to communicate with his brother without his words – kami he didn’t know how to communicate with him with words! It had been so long since Hashirama had truly looked at his brother instead of the image their father had built in his head that when he had realized that he brother was bleeding on the ground and seen the wild fear (a weapon didn’t fear, a demon didn’t fear) in his red eyes it had shocked him to the bone. And then – and then Tobirama had pushed his hands away rather than leaning into them as he had as a child (a small boy with a puff of white hair like a dandelion in too big clothes leaning into Hashirama as he healed the sunburns on his skin; one of the first things Hashirama had ever learned to heal) he had slapped Hashirama’s hands away, had acted like he expected pain rather than healing and like his horrible method of brutal healing (healing Hashirama knew he used on no one else, so why did he know it? How often had he used it and why?) was better, safer than Hashirama’s touch (and he said he knew what he was doing? oh kami).

It was then that he had known beyond a doubt that he had broken something, it was the way his brother had flinched from his hands in favor of known pain and Touka had ripped away his rosy view that Hashirama was forced to face what he had made in his desperation not to see anything he didn’t want to. It had just been so painful after Ita died and with only father and his strange distant- different- brother who was their father’s favorite weapon and Hashirama just – it was better to not be there, to not have to see it, to not have to try and take the blows, to not have to try and find a way to talk to Tobi when Tobi couldn’t find words (oh kami, his Words!). and then there was Madara; Madara who he felt drawn too, Madara who came ready-made as a brother, Madara who felt like having an older brother even though they had never known one another, Madara who Hashirama felt connected to in a way he didn’t understand and couldn’t do anything about. Madara who was so bright and compelling that Hashirama forgot everything else, even his quiet, moon-shadow brother.

In retrospect- and kami there had been so much retrospect recently- Hashirama could see that Butsuma had set them against each other, telling Hashirama things that must have been lies (right? Tobirama would never – how Hashirama could have ever believed that his brother had betrayed him! He knew Tobi’s sensing range and he should have known that Tobi would have known. Known and only reported when Izuna followed Madara. But no Hashirama had believed his father over his brother even after the fucker died), not wanting his increasingly strong sons to unite against him – for what good it did the fucker. The week of Tobirama’s being unconscious had given Hashirama a lot of time to think, a lot of time to go over every moment and wonder and think as he sat at his silent brother's side and – it was hard, he didn’t want to face it, didn’t want to think about the way Butsuma had treated him, the way he had been his father’s favorite right up until he didn’t do well enough and the anger started. He didn’t want to think about Butsuma, about growing up, about what else he might not have known about and what missions his brother might have run that Butsuma told him were something else (what had shaped his brother to think that functional was good enough?).

And now – now all he had was the ruins of his past and a brother that looked at him like a commander more than a brother no matter what Hashirama wanted or tried. A brother who seemed to find his presence more stressful than soothing and – Hashirama just, should he leave? He was making Tobi tense, he could see that, but, he, just….how could he even talk to his brother now when Tobirama watched his every move with wary eyes?

In his arms the weasel squeaked sharply and nipped at Tobirama’s hand, jolting the albino out of his thoughts and panic-spiral, Hashirama sagged a little with relief, struggling to find something safe to talk to his brother about. “I – you have been saying for years that rather than going straight for full peace we should just try a ceasefire?” he offered, pleased when Tobirama calmed and nodded, looking intent “You, you think a ceasefire is a better way to make sure things start off on a good grounding? I mean, I still think that we can just go to peace and all get along and-“ Tobirama sent him a sharp look and Hashirama wilted “-and right, that hasn’t worked so far, so, ceasefire. I’ll, I’ll send one, its worth a try even if it’s slow” all he wanted was to do something for his brother and if that meant doing things Tobi’s way Hashirama could do that.

Tobirama held up a hand and darted into his room, shuffling through papers in his desk and returning with a sheaf of papers for Hashirama; a ceasefire. Several ceasefires, of different tact’s and tones and with different outlines for follow ups and – Tobirama tapped the top paper meaningfully (this one was the one he thought they should use?) and Hashirama fought not to gape, “When – when did you do this? When did you do all this?” Tobirama sent him an unimpressed look, signing ‘your-‘ he paused, clearly at a loss and finally went for the notebook again ‘Your dream, always working on it’ and that, that might be the most heartbreaking thing Hashirama had ever read.

Izuna didn’t know what was going on but he didn’t like it. He didn’t like a damned bit of it. Tobirama was fucking mute and he couldn’t tell Madara or he would go feral and Izuna didn’t know what to do about that, as a weasel he couldn’t see what was written in the notebook and as an Uchiha he didn’t know all the signs Tobirama used but even so he could see there was too few (wait, there was a Nara that had been mute wasn’t there? They had a whole language of signs not just mission ones Izuna was nearly sure, hmmm, he would have to looking that), and add to that but even he could see that there was something wrong with the Senju brother’s relationship. Add to that the fact that it was Tobirama that had plans for an Uchiha ceasefire- several iterations by the size of the stack- drawn up and waiting for Hashirama to see reason; which rather punctured Izuna’s belief that the – that Tobirama didn’t want peace and also hated the Uchiha.

Especially because Tobirama had picked up Izuna-Iwoa after his brother left and looked for long moment at their red eyes (were they Sharingan eyes?!? Izuna should have checked!) before tucking the animal back into his arms and returning to his room like it was nothing. Not at all the reaction Izuna expected! Tobirama wasn’t what he expected! The way he knelt to listen to a child talk to him and accepted a gentle hug wasn’t what Izuna expected, the ratty red fan wasn’t what Izuna expected (though it seemed to communicate with the kid? Somehow?), he was main line! He should have nicer possessions! The way that Tobirama worked on papers that seemed to have to do with plumbing?!?! And let Izuna read them! The way that once in a while Izuna could feel flickers of Madara’s chakra (impressive considering he was no sensor, then again his brother was always prone to overkill) brush over Tobirama and the albino always seemed to relax into it (promising for Madara!), the way that when the sun went down and Izuna had to get back Tobirama picked him up and put him on the open windowsill without a word, turning his back and slipping out of the room without trying to stop Izuna from leaving (he had to know that there was something going on here and it was Uchiha related, right? the little uchiwa drawn on the side of the paperwork was an unsubtle sign after all).

Reluctantly they slipped out over the windowsill and lingered on it for a long moment, what now? Back in the Uchiha compound his body would still be meditating as his mind rode with Iwoa and eventually Madara was going to notice that something was odd about the prolonged meditation even in his altered mental state, so Izuna couldn’t linger too much longer but…there was so much information to be found here! Not even about the Senju clan, just the two bizarre brothers that would soon be his in laws if he had any say in it! they were just so weird and it bugged Izuna not to know what was going on. On the other hand, his brother didn’t need more stress so…

Fuck, he had to go back to the Uchiha, hopefully Iwoa would be willing to do this again so Izuna could get more info before too long but in the meantime Izuna could go to see the Nara and ask about their sign language as well as what they might know about Hashirama and Tobirama Senju – and possibly their parents as well. After all Izuna would need to know as much as he could about th-Tobirama if he was going to help his brother woo him, shoot! Izuna didn’t have anyway of figuring out if Tobirama would be open to that at all! Not more than the fact that Tobirama didn’t seem to mind his brother’s overwhelming chakra and that at least was a good sign. Hopefully. Maybe.

Reluctantly Izuna directed Iwoa back to the Uchiha compound, hopping out of the weasel’s mind before they even left the Senju compound and just in time as his brother knocked on his door, calling out “Izu?” in a tired voice Izuna hated to hear. Madara looked, worn, the lines on his face deeper and the shadows darker where his hair hung over his face, lit only by the erratic flickers of red and violet that darted through his eyes (oh, Madara…). “Heey, Mada” Izuna cooed, stumbling only a little as he got to his numb feet (oof, too long meditating) and going to his brother, pulling Madara in for an uncharacteristic hug that it took the older Uchiha a little too long to return. Still, slowly his brother’s arms closed around Izuna and he sagged onto him, dropping his head onto the slimmer Uchiha’s shoulder nearly shaking with the mess that was his chakra and fatigue (Izuna knew he couldn’t sleep without seeing the moment he nearly killed his Center). It was taking so much from Madara to keep from going feral and Izuna was terrified about what was going to happen to his brother if he couldn’t change things and fast.

Chapter Text

All in all Tobirama was pleased with his day, it had been a productive one (Hashirama finally agreed to a ceasefire as a start! Though he was behaving oddly, Tobirama would have to keep an eye on that) and it had been nice to carry around the white weasel all day, both because Tobirama did like to torment Izuna (did the Uchiha really think Tobirama wouldn’t notice his chakra riding the summons? Not to mention winter white weasels didn’t have red eyes) and also because he was soft and warm and didn’t seem to mind being totted around. It was slightly galling to think about Izuna watching him with the children and about his duties, but it had been nothing that would harm the Senju if it got out and – well, if it changed Izuna (Madara-)’s opinion of him even a little it was worth it; being the White Demon only had so much use when it came down to it. His reputation would still be fine in the other clans and a shield for his clan but – if they were working toward peace then it would be good to dent it right?

The invasion of his privacy and, kami, the shame that came with pulling out that fan (what is Izuna recognized it?) stung a little but it would be worth it and – it helped to imagine the horror on Izuna’s face at being carried around like a tame cat by Tobirama. Smirking a little Tobirama glanced over his papers again after diner- unsurprised to see that Izuna was gone- only to feel his face fall at the sight of the uchiwa that he had thoughtlessly doodled on one, he; kami he hadn’t meant to do that. It must have been when Madara’s chakra was brushing over him and it was all Tobirama could do to not just melt into it in front of Izuna’s summons, otherwise he never would have been so thoughtless. Hopefully the weasel hadn’t noticed (ha, now he could call the brat that fairly!), having Izuna find out about how Tobirama felt about Madara would be a shame he couldn’t take on top of everything else.

Thoughtlessly Tobirama’s fingers raised to trace over the scaring on his throat, swallowing as he thought of how hard it was to talk to the children now and how Touka- though she was trying, bless her- really didn’t have patience for Tobirama writing everything down (though it didn’t help that he kept getting distracted when he was writing). He hadn’t had a single conversation- but the stumbling thing with the children- about anything that wasn’t work since he had woken mute and – it wasn’t like he had all that many before, but now it was just, harder to miss when he couldn’t just talk to himself (there was little that terrified Tobirama more than feeling like no one was listening to him, like he was silenced and unwanted and – and truly nothing more than the blade his Father wanted).

No. He – he shouldn’t think about this; a ceasefire had been sent out and the Uchiha had been avoiding battle and Izuna would without a doubt be back, all of this was good. Tobirama was even going back active tomorrow and he would be able to get closer to the Uchiha lines and try to feel what was wrong with Madara better. All he had to do was work on the Uzumaki alliance and try to untangle that from the latest bumble; his brother meant well but he didn’t quite have his feet on the ground and he wanted it to be more about romance than it was. Ah, and the Elders, Tobirama might have to visit the Elders again now to make sure they understood where their place in the clan was and encourage any that didn’t agree to step down; times were changing and people had to keep up, one way or another.

Madara sagged harder into his brother, feeling exhausted but a little better after eating and a little more awake – at least enough to ask his wily brother what he had been doing all day. “Izu” he asked, a little slow and slurred “what were you doing meditating after summoning one of your weasels all day?” Izuna stiffened where they sat side-by-side on the engawa, clearly debating what to say before he sagged a little as Madara’s chakra escaped his hold and thrashed with the need to go to his Center. “I – I found a jutsu that lets my consciousness ride-along with my summons and I – I went to check on Tobirama for you” the name was like electricity down Madara’s back and he jolted where he was leaning on his brother, head snapping around and eyes wide and shot through with violet “What?” he breathed. Izuna swallowed hard and patted Madara’s hand, “I wanted to check on him for you Mada, and, well, make sure that he was good enough for you. I am trying to see him differently you know, given that he’s you – you know.”

“How is he?” Madara asked, heart in his throat, he knew his Center was alive but that wasn’t much and – “He – he’s still recovering and, um, adjusting, I guess but. Kami Madara that family is weird, like, the W-Tobirama was working on plumbing plans! And like, not for the Senju, they were big enough for a whole village and that was after he gave Hashirama an entire stack of ceasefire options; turns out he has been trying to get Hashirama to send one for years but Hashirama wanted total peace not incremental and Tobirama’s been trying to have something slower. And then, and then, he’s like, great with kids and has this shitty fucking fan and I think he knew what I was but let me go anyway and – eternal flame, things are just really messed up in that place Madara.” There was a ringing in Madara’s ears (a ceasefire? Many? Plans for a village?) and he was having a hard time thinking around the overwhelming thought that this, amazing man was his Center, this amazing, wonderful person existed and Madara had nearly killed him.

“But, Mada, Madara focus, listen to me, he liked you chakra” Izuna’s hands were on his face and it took everything Madara had to think past (silver shards of a sword cutting through pale skin, a rush of red in the air, a gapping red wound with glimpses of lighter-tissue, blood coating a pale hand and neck and blue breastplate) “Madara, Iwoa could feel your chakra when you were feeling for him in the Senju compound and every time you did he relaxed, he liked your chakra” he, his Center, Tobirama, liked Madara’s chakra? Madara’s chakra? No one liked Madara’s chakra, it was too much, too strong, too – too everything and – it really made Tobirama relax? That – that made all the coil strain from reaching out worth it. “Oh” Madara breathed “that, you’re sure?” maybe, maybe Madara wasn’t cursed, (maybe his love wasn’t ashes and pain and betrayal) wasn’t a curse, even if it – if Madara couldn’t imagine imposing on Tobirama just knowing that this much contact was allowed and ok, wasn’t hurting Tobirama just because Madara wanted the peace of feeling him alive. This much was ok, this much didn’t hurt Tobirama.

It was that thought that allowed Madara to linger longer when the next day he felt Tobirama’s chakra near the border, close enough it didn’t hurt to hold his own stretched out and wrapped around Tobirama for nearly half an hour and Madara could actually feel a little of the variation in the deep, cool of it. There was something….turbulent? Troubled maybe. Madara wasn’t sure, he had never been a good enough sensor to recognize emotions but he had never focused on a signature as much as he focused on Tobirama. Whatever it was he wished that he could reach out and smooth it out, warm it from cold to cool, sooth whatever was strained; and to his great joy the longer that Madara focused on him Tobirama’s chakra did slowly settle and ease and when at last the strain was too painful and his coils couldn’t take it any longer reluctantly he let his chakra flow back into him, sagging over his desk, aching all over and feeling better than he had in days (especially since he would swear he could feel the slightest touch of cool-deep-chakra).

To make the day even better, there was indeed a ceasefire on Madara’s desk and one so well made and worded that Madara could just sign it without even speaking to the Elders (though really, all he had to do was flash his eyes and they would insist on peace with the Senju, Madara was too strong to be allowed to go Center-broke), something he had already done and sent back with a note about his hopes for a better peace treaty to be negotiated soon. Time was it would have taken months to get even this much through but, well, Madara’s Centering had changed a lot for the clan and Madara felt oddly bad that he would be making a mess of Tobirama’s plans; after all this time Hashirama’s method of complete peace instantly would work, but only because Madara was too unstable for anything else. Hells, even Izuna had looked worried when he left that morning to go see the Nara for better info on the Senju – especially the brothers.

Madara traced the slanted hand that had formed the ceasefire – so different from Hashirama’s flourishing signature, his Center had written this, had written this thing that could be the first step in peace for them and done so with enough care and work that the Uchiha were treated completely fairly. His (silver shards of a sword cutting through pale skin, a rush of red in the air, a gapping red wound with glimpses of lighter-tissue, blood coating a pale hand and neck and blue breastplate, blood everywhere and red, red eyes) Center, that he had nearly killed, that he had nearly erased from the world, his touch was poison and he – (silver shards – Madara hadn’t noticed the blade fracturing, Madara hadn’t noticed Tobirama at all) – he would destroy Tobirama, ruin all his (silver shards of a sword cutting through pale skin, a rush of red in the air, a gapping red wound with glimpses of lighter-tissue, blood coating a pale hand and neck and blue breastplate, red-red eyes staring at him, desperate) Center (silver shards of a sword cutting through pale skin, a rush of red in the air, a gapping red wound with glimpses of lighter-tissue, blood coating a pale hand and neck and blue breastplate, seeing the strength and resilience and devotion and-) Tobirama, and he – he. (silver shards of a sword cutting through pale skin, a rush of red in the air, a gapping red wound with glimpses of lighter-tissue, blood coating a pale hand and neck and blue breastplate, deep-cool-chakra curling around him).

Madara blinked dazedly down at his desk hardly seeing the blood that was smeared over his documents (good thing he sent the response already), the blood dripping of his cheeks and erasing the neat writing of the ceasefire. Erasing his Center under blood. (Was that all he could do?)

“Madara!” Kikiyo. His cousin. Madara blinked up at the Red Crane through a red film, wondering what his eyes looked like right now Mangekyō and violet and terrible.  “Oh Amaterasu-ōkami, what in the world – no don’t answer that, don’t” her voice was coming from very far away and all he could think about was the deep-cool-chakra curling around him like a nervous animal; nosing at his hands and eyes and soothing the ache. “Madara! Focus on me!” oh, right, Kikiyo, Madara struggled to focus on his cousin, noting that Hikaku was behind her in the door way looking worried as well – when had he come back? “Madara what are you seeing?” right, Kikiyo. “Blood.” Madara croaked “Silver shards, the cut, so much blood, his ey-es” Madara’s voice broke on the last word and it was only the cool eddies of chakra around his legs kept him from slipping under again, “its all I can see.”

Kikiyo cursed and turned to murmur something to Hikaku behind her that made his other cousin pale and turn to leave at high speeds, “Have you been straining your chakra?” the Red Crane asked softly, inching closer and examining his eyes as Madara nodded. “I have to” he forced out “if I can’t feel him alive-“ the words choked in his throat and he couldn’t continue but Kikiyo didn’t seem to be all that surprised, just nodded and tried to talk to him until – Kenshin darted into the room, panting and exhausted and then pale as a sheet at the sight of his clan head looking more terrifying than he had ever seen “Its true then, he’s really-“. “Kenshin” Kikiyo said sharply “tell him about the time Tobirama rescued you, every detail you can think of; everything” and with a jerky nod the teen did as he was told, his earlobe long hair and wavy bangs bobbing in its tiny ponytail, as he started going over the story again, lingering on every detail of Tobirama-sama he could think of (even the more…flowery descriptions he would never have said allowed except it seemed to be helping). The story settling Madara as he soaked up every detail about his Center until Hikaku returned with a cup of tea and a small vial of something dark green.

“Here” Hikaku said, handing Madara the tea first (calming herbs from the smell) and then the vial “it inhibits chakra, I’m sorry but-“ Madara shook his head and with one last lingering reach for Tobirama’s chakra he tossed it back, listening to Kenshin go on as the herbs shut off his sharingan and chakra points one by one.

Chapter Text

Tobirama was sleeping; he knew that, he knew he was older now and not on a mission as a child, just after the mess on the Naka river (why would Hashi not talk to him anymore?) it was a dangerous one; mostly because there were supposed to be Uchiha in the same village that Tobirama’s assassination was in though they- luckily- weren’t on protection detail. Tobirama didn’t know what they were here for but he was just enjoying the fact that he was so close to his favorite chakra, drifting through the crowds of the summer festival with his snow leopard mask tied tightly over his face; his white hair long and tied up in a maiko’s updo over his pale blue kimono. Ahead of him the Uchiha brothers laughed as they enjoyed the festival, both looking rather nice in their traditional yukata (Izuna) and hakama (Madara) and matching Tengu masks; Madara’s chakra was a velvety with happiness and sparking with laughter and it drew Tobirama like iron filling to a magnet.

Madara’s head tipped back, with laughter and the cheep red and black fan he had bought from a festival vendor fanned him and blew his fringe back out of his face; it was a cheep thing with black ribs and flimsy red fabric and was already looking worn given how often Madara had used it to rap Izuna over the head and Tobirama was entranced (imagine just buying your own fan!?). This was one of the nicest evenings he had ever had, certainly since Ita and Kawa died and Tobirama wanted it to last, he didn’t want to think about the old man that was dead back in that dirty inn with his pants around his ankles; he wanted to bask in this chakra and – a rush of noise and Tobirama ducked back behind a vendor as ahead of him nin leapt out of the shadows at the two Uchiha brothers, who went into the fight with clear preparation, Madara catching weapons on his new fan with dismissive ease. It was lovely, Tobirama wanted to watching Madara fight forever- it was like watching a dance!- but there was more coming up from behind and – well, oops. Tobirama totally hadn’t intended to knock over those barrels in their way. How careless of him.

When it was all over and the Uchiha were gone Tobirama slunk out to the churned up dusty ground of the battle, picking up a worn and dinged red and black fan from the ground, carefully brushing the dirt off of it and tucking it away in his sleeve before he could second guess it. He shouldn’t but…he wanted-

Tobirama jerked awake and lurched to sit upright, hand at his throat; it was a better dream than many he had but…he shivered, reaching out for Madara’s chakra for comfort and biting his lips harshly when he could feel only the faintest whisper of minkfurclovmagma rather than the brilliant star that Madara normally was. What had happened? This afternoon had had felt strong, strong enough to reach out to Tobirama on the border (the way his chakra had curled around the albino still made Tobirama shudder and flush even though the chakra had been twisted and corrosive – kami it had felt so good and, and almost like Madara had intended to touch Tobirama - at least until it recoiled and started to panic) and though Tobirama hadn’t been able to figure out what was wrong with him it had been…nice to feel it. Just. Nice. But now, now it was all but gone, just as it had been since around late afternoon when it seized and thrashed and though Tobirama thought his chakra had helped he must have been misreading it; and it terrified Tobirama to not know what was wrong with Madara. Was he sick? Unconscious? What had happened to him this afternoon? What was happening to him? How did Tobirama fix it!? Why did this banked, smothered chakra feel safer than it had before? It was only the calm in the rest of the Uchiha that kept Tobirama from going straight there to check, surely Madara's cousins would be panicking more if he was in serious trouble?

He needed information, needed to know if Madara was ok and, well, Izuna had started it hadn’t he? If he sent Aki she should be able to find out some of what was going on, she was the smallest of his summons as an Arabian leopard that was only twenty pounds and one of his best at stealth. Not one of his leap that he summoned the most as she wasn’t the fastest or best in battle but here she would do nicely and (Tobirama had to do something) could almost be taken as one of the Uchiha ninneko in the shadows. Chewing at his lip and doing his best to push down the panic at the banked feel of Madara’s chakra (was he hurt? of course he as hurt, how bad was it? What did Tobirama have to do to make sure it stopped?), it had taken a sleeping pill to get him to sleep to begin with tonight after he convinced himself not to go straight to the Uchiha and check on Madara himself (he might make it worse, Madara hated him after all and was constantly checking on him, maybe it had to do with Tobirama being close? Maybe that had made him angry? But – he didn’t feel angry, just – kami, Tobirama even thought his chakra might have helped a bit at one point so….but that must have been a delusion, Madara must have been angry that Tobirama was so near the border and he would have to stay away no matter how much he wanted to be closer).

Mind made up Tobirama bit his thumb and slammed his hand to the floor, calling Aki specifically to him and smiling down at the small leopard as she twined around his arm, “Why have you called me summoner?” she purred, head butting his chest until he pet her head. Tobirama hesitated and then went for the notebook in his beads, pulling it out and wetting the brush he also pulled out to write even as Aki cocked her head at him, “Why do you not speak summoner?” well, awkward. Uncomfortably Tobirama pulled down the neck of his shirt to expose the scar, unsurprised when Aki pushed up to look at it more closely, sitting back with a worried look on her feline face, “You can’t talk at all? And you can’t heal it?” Tobirama shook his head twice and she looked down, grooming her face to hide her emotions before she looked at what he had written. I have a task for you if you don’t mind doing it, I there is a man I am…fond of- “Oh” Aki chirped, her tail curled into a question mark “the Uchiha-volcano-man you are so smitten with?” Tobirama flushed but nodded anyway before tapping the notebook again. There is something wrong with his chakra, it has been strange recently and then today it all but vanished, I am worried about him and would like you to go and see if you can check on him to see if he is ok and what is wrong with him.

Aki licked at her paw for a moment and then sighed deeply, nodding “I’ll go check on your man for you” Tobirama flushed harder “and see what can be done for him, we won’t see you lose him Tobirama.” And the albino relaxed, he trusted his summons and if Aki said she would find out what was going on she would find it out, “Just, summoner, don’t do anything drastic in the meantime ok? No jumping to conclusions about anything and putting yourself at risk, got it?” she glared sharply at him and Tobirama bit his lip, writing I will try my best and hoping that was enough for his summons. Aki looked at him for a long moment and then sighed again, deep and long, she was one of his older summons like Akira- his chief summons- and had known him since he was a child, she knew him and his faults well by now. “Alright, good enough, stay safe cub and I will come back with information as soon as I can” she darted forward to lick his cheek before vanishing out the window into the pre-dawn light.

Izuna stared at his cousins in shock, putting out a hand to stabilize himself against the wall in his shock, “I – give me a minute to take my shoes off and – and get some tea and then tell me this again” he grated out, carefully kicking off his sandals and mechanically going to make tea as Hikaku and Kikiyo followed him around. His cousins looked strained and worried, Hikaku's short high-tail coming undone around the soft-featured face that made him and his other cousin Kenshin look so alike and Kikiyo’s normally impeccable makeup was lightly creased and worn down along with a few wisps of hair falling out of the geisha style updo – though her crane patterned kimono was as tidy as always. “Ok” Izuna said finally, sitting with his too hot tea “now tell me that again” the two cousins exchanged looks, they may have been Izuna’s cousins on opposite sides (Kikiyo through Tajima’s first wife and Hikaku through Tajima himself) but in this they looked like nothing short of siblings.

Kikiyo pursed her lips slightly and took a deep breath as he turned to look at Izuna, “Your brother is declining towards ferality fast and over-using his chakra to check on his Center is worsening it. I know he can’t stop himself from checking but it – I found him at his desk today with it and his face covered in blood from his eyes and they – kami Izuna I have no way to describe what they looked like, like the Mangekyō but all the red was violet and I don’t – I don’t know what that means but he was lost in the flashbacks to what happened and we…” she trailed off and Hikaku took over “We got Kenshin to come talk about Tobirama-sama again to calm him and gave him the same calming tea as the other night but-“ a deep breath “-we had to give him a blocker, it was the only way to get his Mangekyō to deactivate and give his coils a break.”

Izuna stared at them and then tossed back his tea like it was something stronger, ignoring the heat as he stood and went to pull out the sake and three cups, dropping them on the table and flopping to sit again, “How it he now?” he asked roughly. Kikiyo tossed back her sake and poured another cup without a blink, “Asleep, the tea put him out when the blocker took hold. Izuna, I know we have a ceasefire and a treaty planed but we need a way to bridge the gap or we will lose him.” Izuna swallowed hard, rubbing at his brow and trying to think around the fear in his chest “I’ll go back to the Senju compound tomorrow – well today” he added with a glance out the window “I need to know more about Tobirama and if he could ever be open to Madara. The Nara…they didn’t have much, but-“ fuck, he had to tell them this “I wasn’t just there for information about the Senju, I – hells, the cut, it – Tobirama’s mute now.” both cousins sucked in shocked breathes and Hikaku’s hand was shaking as he reached for his cup and drank it in a fast gulp. “As far as I can tell its complete and unhealable, permanent. The Nara have a sign language and I spent most of the day learning it with the Sharingan for later, that they I was gone so long. We need more people to learn it and we need, we need enough people to know it that th-Tobirama can pick it up, I’ll ask the Nara to send someone to teach us- discretely, Madara can’t know- and – I’ll stay long enough to pass on what info there was about Tobirama when Madara wakes up before I leave.”

“You’ll sleep until he wakes” it wasn’t a question but Izuna nodded at Hikaku anyway, “He’ll have to stay on the blockers on an off” Kikiyo murmured into her re-filled cup “otherwise he’ll keep getting worse, he can check on his Center in between doses but I don’t see anything else we can do.” Hikaku hissed sharply, “That blocker – its not safe for long term, its only supposed to block ferality for a short time until a Center can be brought to the Uchiha!” “I know!” Kikiyo snapped harshly “What else am I supposed to do? Let him lose himself in it? I don’t see a better way until we know if his Center will come to him or not! You know Madara will never approach his Center himself after everything, he will be too afraid of hurting him to do it, the Center has to be willing to do it and this is the White Demon! We don’-“

“Do not call him that” Izuna snapped, his voice cutting through the row like a kunai through leaves “do not. I know what he is, but if I can make the effort to think about him as Tobirama then everyone else can to; we – it was war. He has a name. Use it.” Kikiyo flushed under her powder and looked down and Izuna knew that it was old fear and exhaustion and worry for Madara that had led to her calling him that, but he wouldn’t have it. Kikiyo was better than that and he knew it- she knew it- and if Izuna could change it she could too, for Madara’s sake (and maybe a little for the man that smiled at children and made plumbing plans). “Go to bed cousin” Izuna said tiredly “if Madara agrees we’ll keep him on the blocker for now. A treaty meeting would let him at least see Tobirama and that will help and, shit I can steal a shirt or something; that’s a bit creepy but whatever, if it helps. We’ll – we’ll figure it out one way or another and Madara will be ok, we all will. Just get some sleep for now, ok?”

Shakily Kikiyo nodded, bowing slightly at him in silent apology before she stood and vanished up the stairs. “She’s been taking on too much and – kami it was terrifying Izuna, we can’t – we can’t let Madara go feral and she –“ he met Izuna’s eyes and an understanding passed between them. Should Madara go feral it would be Kikiyo that had the best chance to put him down, with her skills, poisons, and – well, Izuna could never do it so…it would have to be her. And she knew it.

Chapter Text

Tobirama surveyed the white weasel tangled in a nin-wire trap making an odd chirping sound like it was singing and realized that he very much wanted to met the summons Izuna was piggybacking on; they seemed like a character. Feeling a bit smug he folded his arms and leaned against the wall as he heard his brother’s loud footsteps coming down the hall, ignoring the way the chirping stopped and wide pleading red eyes turned on him when the weasel’s struggling spun it around enough to look at him. Amused Tobirama raised a brow at the summons as Hashirama’s bright squeal filled the sunlit clan head’s study (did Izuna think there wouldn’t be traps here?) “Oh it came back!! It must want all the cuddles and pets and look how fluffy it is Tobi, just look!” Hashirama trilled brightly, carefully untangling the wire around the long body and cuddling the weasel a little too tightly.

Tobirama smirked at Izuna and pushed off the wall, not quite hiding the flinch as the fabric pulled over his skin (the scar especially was still tender) fast enough with his brother for once looking right at him. Hashirama froze, his hold on the weasel loosening as his eyes narrowed slightly (why had Hashirama been looking at him? Did – did Hashirama not trust him?) and he darted to Tobirama before the albino could move away, peeling back the neck of his shirt and- of gods Izuna was seeing this- showing both the nasty scar and the red rash that discolored his skin. “Tobi…” Hashirama said softly, letting Tobirama snatch Izuna from him (this way at least he could cover the brat’s eyes) and petting the soft fur a little franticly though the weasel didn’t protest the slightly rough treatment. ‘Nothing-functional-aged’ Tobirama signed at his brother dismissively, pushing past him to the desk and its waiting paperwork where a note form the Uchiha waited to be unsealed (also the reason that Tobirama was here, he wanted to know what Madara said - and see if his handwriting was ok).

“Tobirama!” Hashirama snapped behind him and the albino full body flinched, his brother sounding all too much like their Father in that moment; something Hashirama must have seen as his voice when he spoke again was much, much softer “Tobi, please, what is that? If there is something wrong-“ Tobirama couldn’t help the way his spine went tight with frustration, had his brother really forgotten? No, wait, that was foolish, of course he had, it was Hashirama and his promise of new clothing in deference to Tobirama’s sensitive skin had been a throw away for him, not the promise of relief that it had been to Tobirama. More angry than he should have been Tobirama snatched a brush and dipped it in ink to write on a torn off scrap of paper, albino! He scribbled, underlining it twice before shoving it in his brother’s face. Not bothering to wait for comprehension and pissed enough at this point to open the scroll from Madara himself he grabbed it and broke the seal, unrolling it and taking a moment just to admire Madara’s graceful- and blessedly even- handwriting before reading it as Hashirama stared at Tobirama’s note.

Hashirama, this ceasefire is too well written to be you, pass on my gratitude and thanks to the writer for coming up with something so balanced and cleverly done that I can even sign it without asking the Elders. You have your ceasefire – in fact had you sent it sooner we might have ended all of this much sooner if such a well done document was an option. Next time listen to the writer, idiot.

In truth my clan is ready for peace, would you be amenable to meeting for talks of a longer treaty at the next full moon? The Nara might be asked to host us, or I suppose we could meet at the Naka, it would have a certain symmetry. I await your bird,

Madara Uchiha.

This….oh kami, Tobirama was blushing wasn’t he. He could feel the heat in his cheeks and – but – Madara said it was well written! Said Hashirama should listen to him! Said – said to pass on his thanks! Though, his joy was punctured a little at the thought that Madara wouldn’t have said that if he knew it was Tobirama, he would have to figure out how to make sure the Uchiha never found out or he might doubt everything Tobirama had written. Could Izuna recognize it? He must have missed that yesterday somehow because otherwise Madara would already know and would never have said those nice things (though how he missed it Tobirama had no idea).

“Tobi-“ Hashirama started in a subdued voice and Tobirama grabbed the scroll, spinning to hold it out to him, watching as the strange expression on Hashirama’s face fade into joy as he read it. “He said you-“ oh shit, hurriedly Tobirama tossed Izuna at his brother (well…not his best distraction but it seemed to work) and left the room to go grab his treaty prototypes, the moon was only a few days away and they needed to be ready!

In the study Hashirama juggled the noodle-cat and the scroll for a moment before getting them both and tucking Tobirama’s note away in his pocket (he was going to collect every damned word his brother wrote him this time, if it killed him!). “Madara said Tobi did a good job!” Hashirama told the soft weasel in his hands, trying to keep his hold gentle “Madara is a better judge of character than I am, maybe he will have some advice on how to fix things with Tobi? I need to make things better, how could I forget he’s albino and his skin-!” the faintest sound on his brother’s footsteps silenced Hashirama and he quickly turned to cooing at the animal Tobirama seemed to have taken on. Clearly this was something Tobirama didn’t want to talk about and Hashirama didn’t want to push too hard; he didn’t have that right or trust anymore and he – he had to do better, he would look up ways to help Tobi’s skin, maybe it could be the clothing? Should it be softer? Wait – wait – wait

Oh

Oh brightstars

Oh kami

Hashirama – he had, he had promised hadn’t he, he had – and then he had – he had said as soon as father was gone he would get softer – and then – he forgot. He just forgot over the years as it never came up again. He just – Butsuma had told Tobi it would toughen him up hadn’t he? that – and – oh. oh Tobi.

The noodle-cat nipped at his fingers and Hashirama shoved a sunny smile on his face for his brother as Tobirama reentered the room with a huge stack of papers he dumped on the Senju head’s desk and tapped with one long finger. Swallowing Hashirama reluctantly handed over the calming animal and started digging through the papers, somehow unsurprised to see that it was iterations on iterations of treaties with the Uchiha; of course Tobirama had these ready too, of course he did.

Tobirama watched his brother with some nerves, worried that his brother wouldn’t like the work he had done and absentmindedly stroking weasel-Izuna- it was oddly calming, too bad his summons were too big to carry like this-. Madara’s hand was steady and his words clear and in character and Izuna was here so either Madara wasn’t as bad off as Tobirama feared or – oh, or they thought he was the cause of it. Did – if they thought that why would they be interested in peace? Was it a trap? But….Madara wasn’t like that, if he wanted to kill Tobirama he could just do it on the battlefield, or have Izuna as a weasel slip something in his tea so that, that didn’t fit either. What in the world was going on?

“What’s up?” he started slightly out of his thoughts and turned to look at Touka as she strode up behind him, biting his lip and then shifting to pull out his fan and hide it from his brother with his body (he really didn’t want Hashirama to know he had a fan) (treaty/Uchiha/peace/meeting/fullmoon) something bloody flashed over Touka’s face at the sight of the fan but she didn’t comment on it, knowing better than to bring it up – or at least here. “Peace with the Uchiha huh? About bloody time, but just so you know I really want to deck that asshole for what he did to you” she growled and Tobirama flicked the fan, ignoring the prickling pain of the splinters it was giving him (war/anythinggoes/brokensword/myfault). At that her face darkened further and she snarled “You sword breaking was not your fault! And the only reasons I only want to deck him is because it was war, I-“ (eyeforaneye/world/is/dead) Tobirama signed quickly before tucking the fan away as Hashirama came closer.

“Fine.” Touka grumbled, folding her arms over her chest – for once not bound too tightly (the Senju woman always did have endowment there, much to their frustration) “War is war and I wont hit him.” “Oh good!” Hashirama cheered “that would make the treaty meeting awkward, Tobi I sent the third copy, it looked best for where we are- you said last month the Uchiha might be having supply-line problems right?- so we are down to meet in a few days!” and Hashirama was all but glowing with joy about that, and he had listened to Tobirama about the Uchiha; now if only Madara was better Tobirama would have everything he had ever fought for.

Madara struggled to focus, he was coming closer to the end of the blocker dose as it got later in the afternoon and soon he would be able to check on his Center and it was only what Izuna had passed on this morning from the Nara that was keeping him focused and from slipping back into the flashbacks (silver sh-). Izuna had said that the Nara didn’t have much on Tobirama Senju other than his mission stats but with prodding other things had been revealed; Tobirama had snow leopard summons, Tobirama loved children and would drop everything to help one or teach one something, Tobirama was brilliant and most of the Senju wealth came from his inventions, Tobirama was well known to ignore other clans on missions unless they were opposed or the other person made it a thing, Tobirama was a true albino, Tobirama saved children when he could and could beat Nara at shogi! Tobirama was perfect. (Silv-) The blocker eased and Madara's chakra rushed out looking for his Center.  

In the eves over the window to the clan head’s office Aki settled her head on her paws thoughtfully; everything the Uchiha-kitten had told Uchiha-mate was true and it seemed to make Uchiha-mate happy to hear and he smelled less of feral power when he was listening to stories about Tobirama. Honestly to Aki it sounded like Tobirama and Uchiha-mate where a good match and they should just mate officially and get it over with; from the sounds of it that would help with Uchiha-mate’s madness – not that Tobirama would believe it, his self-worth was too battered for that, so, what else could be done? Aki didn’t fully understand what this whole ‘Center’ thing that had been discussed early this morning was but it was clearly complicated and making the madness in Uchiha-mate stronger. Hmmmm, what was she going to do about this? What – what!?

Aki leapt to her feet with a swallowed yowl, all her fur standing on end as a burning wave of searing chakra washed over her, racing in the direction of her summoner and – Tobirama reached back- of course he did- and Uchiha-mate’s chakra (and great lion that was a lot of power, kami bless) smoothed and eased somewhat. Ok, that she could tell Tobirama for sure, that his chakra helped. Otherwise being here was getting her nothing so with a sniff Aki summoned herself back to the Senju just in time to catch a white weasel hanging out Tobirama’s window from one of her summoner’s shirts in its mouth. For a moment the summons (though the weasel was something extra for sure) looked at each other and, Aki could smell the Uchiha on the summons and it was stealing one of Tobirama’s shirts and – well, given what she had heard today….with a sigh Aki leapt up and unhooked the shirt enough both it and the weasel fell out the window. She snorted in amusement and kicked the window closed, going to look for her summoner – ah, poor man was clearly recovering from Uchiha-mate’s chakra wave as he still looked a bit puddle like, no wonder the not-weasel took the chance to get out.

“Summoner” Aki meowed “pay attention” dazed red eyes flicked to her “I need more time to know what it wrong with your man, but your chakra helps him when he can feel it. He seems to have a chakra illness of those silly eyes and is taking something to keep it under control but there doesn't seem to be any problem with you, Uchiha-kitten even calls you by name and told his cousin off for not doing it.” Tobirama’s brow furrowed and he was clearly thinking about it and Aki cursed the fact that her summoner could no longer speak to himself and tell her what he was thinking, it made it much harder to tell what was going on in his head (she also didn't know how to feel about the fact that the muteness was being kept from Uchiha-mate but was delaying judgment - especially since they were going to get the Nara to teach them a language just for her summoner). Still he looked pleased that his chakra wasn’t making him worse so Aki was counting it as a good thing for now. (Tobirama was now wondering if the chakra he had thought was feeling for him even was, what if it was just uncontrolled waves and he was simply the only sensor to notice? That meant that Madara might still think of him as – as nothing- nothing, just like a cheep fan to be discarded and forgotten- but surely that was better than hating him? Right? Especially if Tobirama’s chakra helped right? That would be worth it. ((Now he just had to figure out how to make sure heal whatever was wrong with Madara, he needed to look at his info on Uchiha eyes again...)))

Chapter Text

The next day Aki slipped away again to spy on the Uchiha but in her place Akira and Akane both showed up, being the two snow leopards of his leap that he was closest too (after all it was Akane’s erythrism that had first introduced Tobirama to the idea that being an albino or having other coloring differences were normal and Akira had all but been his mother after his mom died). Tobirama couldn’t deny that he was glad to see them even if he spent most of the morning trying to find his softest shirt only to find it missing to his disappointment; ah well, he would deal just as he had every other time his skin was particularly sensitive. “What are you looking for Tobi-cub?” Akira asked and Tobirama sighed soundlessly, trying to figure out the best way to talk to his summons before giving up and pulling out the fan, flickering (shirt/softest/gone) at her and ignoring her curled lips and flashed fangs at the sight of the ratty old fan (she knew all too well what it meant if not where exactly he got it – after all it was her fur that soaked up his tears when the time came and passed with no fan from his Father or brother).

“I’m sure it will come back, even though you should ask for more shirts now if you insist on wearing things that will cover the scaring – maybe something soft enough it doesn’t hurt you this time?” Akane prompted pointedly and Tobirama sighed again. Refusing to acknowledge her words, (meetingwith/Uchiha/fullmoon/Naka) he told them instead; ignoring the exasperated look the two snow leopards exchanged and huffing soundlessly as Akira flopped over him, her warmth comforting even though there was a lot that Tobirama should be getting done (he wasn’t sleeping well at the moment, not with his worry about Madara and how hard it was to feel the Uchiha’s chakra). Akane leapt on the bed with them and curled around his naked back, their soft fur feeling gentle on his sensitive skin and their deep purring soothing, “Well” Akira rumbled “if you already have a meeting and treaties ready then you have time to take a nap, I can tell you need more sleep Tobi-cub; you’re still not fully recovered, rest for a little while cub, just for a bit” Tobirama wanted to grumbled but it did very little when he couldn’t make a sound and –

It hit him then, that he couldn’t talk to his summons, that when they met for the treaty even if Madara didn’t hate him there was no way for Tobirama to make a mark on his opinion; not when Tobirama couldn’t communicate a single word to him. Not without his voice, not when the mission signs were a Senju thing and so was the fan – not that Tobirama would ever have shown Madara the ratty discarded thing. It was a bit like being socked in the stomach and suddenly it all hit him, that Izuna was visiting, that he knew all this stuff about Tobirama he might use against him, that Hashirama didn’t seem to trust him anymore with the way he was being watched, that he couldn’t fucking talk. And all at once it was too much. Too much to keep bearing and the tears hit, soaking into Akira’s fur as they had since he was a child until his exhaustion go the better of him and dragged him under.

Izuna elled his way over the windowsill and froze when the heads of two snow leopards on Tobirama’s bed came up and he was pinned under their feline stare. Uh-oh Iwoa thought at Izuna, and for once the Uchiha really did have to agree, he had thought the little leopard that let him out last night was bad enough but these two were much bigger and much less permissive looking. It took him several minuets to realize that the two snow leopards were curled around Tobirama himself, the albino (and kami, the look on Madara’s face when Izuna dutifully reported everything he had heard all day with the Senju, including that he was a true albino with skin so sensitive that his clothing actively hurt him. Madara had been stuck between entranced at the idea of Tobirama in general, fear about his being in pain, and anger at Hashirama for not treating his brother better ((he should have better clothes! He shouldn’t need Madara’s help to be a good brother!)), it would have been funny in another situation) curled between his summons bare-chested with his face buried in the fur of the bigger leopard.

Awkwardly Iwoa shifted on his little feet, all too aware they could get to him before he could get away but though he was increasingly sure Tobirama wouldn’t mind Madara he had yet to have any proof that Tobirama would be open to it or have any preference for – “Hey” Iwoa chirped and Izuna wished he had a body to face-palm “do you think your summoner would be interested in mating Madara-pack-leader?” there was a long silence and the redish leopard raised her head to look them over, asking “Why?” in a suspicious voice. Iwoa shuffled and sat back on his hind paws to look them over as Izuna wanted to scream “Madara-pack-leader is mated to your summoner, I’m here to make sure your summoner would be ok with that” the weasel said proudly, all puffed up at the importance of his job. The red leopard chuffed and eased away from Tobirama, prowling closer to Iwoa and Izuna and sniffing at them with intelligent eyes. “You swear that the Uchiha wants our Tobirama?” she asked roughly and Iwoa bobbed his head up and down vigorously “He’s going crazy over it” Iwoa confided in a loud whisper and the leopard snorted, sitting back and licking at one of her paws thoughtfully.

“Yes, I dare say our Tobirama would like little more than to have your Uchiha for a mate; but he is not…” she glanced over her shoulder at the sleeping Tobirama- who was far too thin in Izuna’s opinion, he could see all his bones!- “not healthy, it will take a great deal of work to convince him he is wanted, no word of ours or yours will convince him.” that……that had implications and Izuna…. on the bed the other leopard chuffed, raising her head and pinning them with sharp eyes. “You have seen the fan?” she asked softly, Iwoa slithering down to come close enough to hear without waking Tobirama and nodding, Izuna’s interest very much peaked; he had seen the ratty old fan (such odd colors for the Senju) and knew that it was part of a communication method somehow though it wasn’t clear at all to Izuna how it worked (it had allowed him to tell Madara that Tobirama didn’t blame him for the wound, which had been good! Less good had been admitting that Tobirama blamed himself instead, Madara hadn’t liked that at all).

“Well, the fans are a Senju thing, communication yes but also – hmm, the condition of the fan indicates the worth of the carrier, think about what that means for Tobi-cub and make dammed sure that your Uchiha is willing to fight for his mate.” The lead leopard all but hissed the last but Izuna was too distracted thinking through – there was no way, that fan was – but Tobirama had always been so unwavering and confident! There – but, the way he interacted with his brother, the skin and the – all the little things and – Iwoa reared back, all his fur standing on end with the sheer force of Izuna’s rage at the idea that Tobirama thought he was only worth that ragged, old, splintering fan!

A cold nose was shoved into Iwoa’s fur and the leopard was glaring when Izuna refocused, “Is He?!” she snarled and Iwoa nodded franticly, “He is! Madara-pack-leader is scared of hurting him again so it could be slow but once he knows, he just – just” the weasel summons was struggling to articulate how attached Madara was and gently Izuna pushed forward, unrealizing the tomoe had appeared in Iwoa’s eyes “Tobirama is Madara’s Center, it has to do with our Sharingan, there is nothing more important to him than Tobirama; he has his own fear to get over, but we won’t let it break them. As soon as he knows Tobirama needs him he'll be there forever.” The Uchiha promised and the leopard nodded, settling back around Tobirama, “We will try to tell him, but I doubt he will hear it from anyone but your Uchiha and if we push too hard it could make it worse.” She warned, yawning and licking her nose “now go and find the tree and see what you can learn from him about Tobi-cub while he sleeps” and Iwoa was no fool, doing exactly as he was told even as Izuna despaired of being trapped with the big Senju and nuzzled and cooed at. Oh well, at least the man didn’t watch his tongue around Izuna the way Tobirama did.

Madara was pacing, his mind buzzing with everything Izuna had told him (Hashirama wanted help to be better brother!? For one if his clothing hurts him get him something new!) and (Silver shards of-) desperately he grabbed the black shirt off his chair and clutched at it. He hated that it took a stolen shirt to calm him but the soft scent of it (not strong, he had no Inuzuka or Hatake nose, but still there was a little he could smell in the fabric; weapons oil, ink, at the cuffs, jasmine tea, and something woody like rosehip oil especially at the collar) and the knowledge that it was his Center’s helped overwrite the screaming memory of – of that time, even if it also made him feel like a bit of a creep (and a little indigent, why didn't his Center have the softest and richest of clothing!?).

Everything he had heard so far about Tobirama made him only more entranced by his Center and though hearing more about Tobirama was helping him stay focused and not think about (silver-) it also made him think about it more; about how much he had to lose in all this about how much he could have destroyed- there was a loud yowl outside his window and before Madara could do much more than twitch his arms were full of a small leopard, a long tail curling around his arm as the cat fixed him with a deeply unimpressed look and feline look. Almost automatically Madara shifted his hold and sat to start stroking down the sleek, spotted back, a little surprised at how much better he felt with the warm grounding weight in his arms and the small leopard purring up a storm. This, this felt a lot better actually, he felt a lot better and it took him a bit to jar into enough awareness that he realized the leopard had to be a summons (could – Tobirama had the snow leopard summons, could this be one of his?) and think to speak to it.

“Um” Madara said, somewhat dimly “who are you then?” the leopard chuffed at him, amused as her tail flicked, “I am Aki, and you will stop with the lashing about with your chakra; it damages you and that distresses my summoner with I won’t have, so get your shit together.” There was nothing but static in Madara’s head as he blurted out “And who is your summoner?” and the cat gave him a withering look “Who do you think? Tobirama was wrong, you’re not very smart at all” and, look, in other circumstances Madara would have been deeply offended but honestly he was just stuck on the idea that Tobirama was worried enough about him from his chakra to send a summons to check on him. Surely that meant that Tobirama didn’t hate him? Unless – there were other reasons he could want Madara to be healthy that had nothing to do with caring about Madara and everything to do with his brother, the Uchiha as a whole, or some other thing, after all Madara had (silver shards of a sword cutting through pale skin, a rush of red in the air-) sharp claws sliced through his gloves and Madara twitched but it had been a while since had last had the blocker and he could feel the Mangekyō breaking through, the increasingly ingrained self-hatred cycle falling into place as his eyes bled to purple-red (-a gapping red wound with glimpses of lighter-tissue, blood coating a pale hand and neck and blue breastplate, the strange hissing sound that always came with trying to breathe with a throat wound) and taking with it all the new hope that Aki’s words had started in him (silver shards of a sword cutting through pale skin, slicing elegant pale hands to ribbons, a rush of red in the air, a gapping red wound with glimpses of lighter-tissue, blood coating a pale, slashed hand and neck and blue breastplate, thin bubbles of blood at the corners of thin pale lips as blood flooded his airway).

Madara was drowning, he could taste blood on his tongue the flavor of iron mimicking the way it must have tasted to his Center as (blood coating a pale, slashed hand and neck and blue breastplate, thin bubbles of blood at the corners of thin pale lips as blood flooded his airway, drowning him) the Center he had nearly killed, the Center he couldn’t feel if was still alive (was – there was a reason he couldn't feel Tobirama right? right?). What if (the world was washed in red and Madara cared not about the body in front of him, expendable, until, silver shards of a sword cutting through pale skin, slicing elegant pale hands to ribbons, a rush of red in the air, a gapping red wound with glimpses of lighter-tissue, blood coating a pale, slashed hand and neck and blue breastplate, thin bubbles of blood at the corners of thin pale lips as blood flooded his airway) what if he was dead and Madara was deluding himself? He could smell the blood now, hear something that might have been screaming, taste smoke and ash on his tongue. If his – if the Center of his world was gone, was hurt, then what did it matter anymore if Madara didn’t watch his charka? Why not let it pour out until the whole world was as bloody as he was, until all that lived could taste iron and despair on their tongue and bleed as he bled, for what world was there without his Center to hold him down (the world was washed in red and Madara cared not about the body in front of him, another expendable shinobi until, silver shards of a sword cutting through pale skin, slicing elegant pale hands to ribbons, a rush of red in the air, a gapping red wound with glimpses of lighter-tissue, blood coating a pale, slashed hand and neck and blue breastplate, thin bubbles of blood at the corners of thin pale lips as blood flooded his airway, red, slanted eyes met his and Madara’s world shifted.)

There was screaming from the direction of the main house and as Hikaku raced in that direction he could see his clansmen, crumbled on the ground, clawing at the dirt with the raw agony that was pouring out of the house, the weight of the chakra like a comet come to earth. Madara fully unhinged and the shell of something that looked almost like Susanoo if Susanoo was made of broken chakra and flames, a many armed creature that looked more like a twisted dragon than the Tengu the Uchiha main line tended too. They were loosing him, this was it, the moment they lost him as the ancient main house groaned under the weight of the chakra seeping out of it, the illusionary blood pouring over the doorways out to cover the dusty streets and making the air stink of blood and loss.

Hikaku froze well back from the door, he could go no further, not with that chakra so thick it was forcing him to his knees. There was no way to get the blocker to Madara and stop this not now, not – out of the house a blur exploded, heading straight for him and skidding to a stop (a small leopard, what?) “Give it to me, I can get it to him, its your only chance” Hikaku stared at the cat as it yowled “Now!” and dumbly he handed over the vail with the blocker, watching the cat take it in its jaws and race back into the house even as Madara’s chakra sunk heavier and heavier in him and he collapsed all the way, vision swimming as he wondered if he would be waking from this.

Chapter Text

Aki raced through the illusionary blood and smoke and searing chakra, leaning harder into the chakra of her summoner that she carried with her when she was here instead of on their plane; the chakra that was the only thing letting her move around through Madara’s suffocating chakra. Slumped near the door the woman in the white kimono that had told Aki about the blocker had passed out, sagging messily still reaching for the door with a poisoned kanzashi in the other hand as Aki leapt over her and bounded up the desk, calling on her bond to her summoner to flood the room with his silversoundsilence chakra so thickly that those strange eyes focused on her as she dropped the vail in front of the Uchiha. “Drink” she ordered, amping up the call on Tobirama’s chakra and pleased to see it calming him, like the eye of a tornado “drink it or you will hurt him” and that it seemed was the key as Madara’s hand snapped out and snatched the vail, tipping it back in a fast gulp.

For a moment nothing changed and then all the chakra was sucked back in so violently it made Aki’s fur ruffle in an invisible wind as Madara collapsed over his bloody desk, slumped and unconscious. Ok, ok, this, this was a mess; at least the meeting and the full moon was only day after tomorrow, all they had to do was get through to that. Until then Aki would be staying right here, since her connection to her summoner’s chakra seemed so needed; she would find a way to pass a message to Tobirama some other way, she didn’t trust that she could leave without everything going wrong.

Tobirama felt the pull on his chakra through Aki at almost the same moment as he felt Madara’s chakra erupt; he had been working over the paperwork for the treaty with his brother and weasel-Izuna (still left with Hashirama just because Tobirama was feeling petty) and pouting over his mission shirt when it hit and he was just, gone. It took everything he had not to immediately run- stagger- for Madara and when he felt Aki pull his chakra he willingly gave as much over as the bond could take (his chakra helped Aki said right?) completely terrified even as he grew weaker; not because of what he could feel but because of what it might mean. Even like this Tobirama liked Madara’s chakra more than he disliked it, though it was overwhelming and for a long moment Tobirama was lost, eyes glazed over and far away until Madara’s chakra pulled back suddenly and banked into almost nothing (that must be the thing he was taking to help with his eyes, Tobirama hated it) and the albino lunged to his feet, reaching over to grab Izuna from his brother and turning for his room.

Izuna had to go home and now that much was clear, and in his room Tobirama threw open the window, placing Izuna on it with a meaningful look and then turning to deal with his bothersome brother who had- of course- followed him. “Tobi?” Hashirama asked, confusedly “what’s going on? What did you sense? Is everything ok?” Tobirama bit his lip, honestly not sure what or how to say what had happened. ‘chakra-conflagration-Uchiha’ he signed, and Hashirama’s face clouded with worry, “Something’s happening at the Uchiha compound? Tobi –“ he paused “Tobi is the noodle-cat stealing your shirt?” and sure enough when Tobirama whipped around Izuna was at the window with his mouth full of another of Tobirama’s shirts. There was a long baffled moment where they all just stared at each other and then Tobirama just rolled his eyes and went to hurriedly toss the sleeves over and out so Izuna could leave easier with it. He had no idea what the weirdo wanted with his shirts but, whatever, he needed to get home and it was probably some sort of prank anyway.

‘Affirmative’ Tobirama signed to his brother, snapping his fingers in Hashirama’s face when he kept staring after Izuna and sniggering silently when the bigger Senju jumped. “Tobi” Hashirama said slowly, face grave “I don’t think that’s a normal weasel” and Tobirama just, couldn’t (he knew his brother was smarter than this! He wouldn’t be alive if he wasn’t), snapping his fingers again he signed sharply ‘UCHIHA-trouble-patrol check!’ and Hashirama visibly snapped to attention, nodding sharply and spinning to race for the front doors with his haori billowing behind him (Hashirama did sometimes know how to look the part at least).

With his brother and Izuna both gone Tobirama bit his lip and reached out for the Uchiha again, feeling Madara smothered and banked and still tormented though Aki was with him which was somewhat comforting.  The rest of the Uchiha though….they felt, hmm, sluggish? Wary and concerned and afraid and grieved all at once. What was wrong with Madara? What would it have been like to be near that chakra blast (for others, Tobirama had bets about how he would react.)? Were they ok? Did they still trust their clan head? What could Tobirama do about it all? Kami be thanked he would at least see the man day- evening- after tomorrow even if he would go unnoticed and unheard, he could at least get close enough to try and check closer and maybe if he got lucky even help.

There was the sound of running feet and a teenager raced into his room, Naoki panting and out of breath as his long hair fell out of it’s normal tight knot, “Tobirama-sama! The Elders! Hashirama-sama left and they are meeting, only they didn’t call Emi-sama and I think Daiki-sama might be leading it!” Tobirama’s stomach dropped, of course, this was the prefect time wasn’t it? With Hashirama gone to check on the Uchiha borders (on the clan really and Hashirama might have let that slip) and peace so close this was the perfect time for the dissident Elders to make their move! He nodded sharply to Naoki and turned, fastening on armor and fur with practiced speed; if Daiki was leading it this would go badly, he was the leader of the dissident faction that wanted the old days and all their blood back (he was also personal, he had never gotten over Tobirama refusing his son when Roko….tried to seduce Tobirama years ago, something he might have gotten had Tobirama not heard him laughing about finally getting the frigid freak in bed and cut him off hard. Roko had lost his bet about bedding Tobirama and definitely had a grudge about it so by extension so did his father, ass).

The Elders council was only twelve people and a few of those were flat out on Hashirama’s side- like their Aunt Emi, she may have been their aunt by marriage but she didn’t care and stood with them even when she would rather have not- and Massaaki though quiet was with them Tobirama thought as was Ichika who despised disloyalty. But those few were over ruled by the combination of the fence sitters and the Elders that flat out worked against Hashirama and clearly it was past time Tobirama did something about this; after all, this wasn’t a democracy and it was time to remined a few people of that.

The Elder’s hut was dim, lit only by the fire in the center and the braziers set around the edges of the circular building and only ten of the twelve seats for elders were filled, the large seat of the clan head noticeably empty as Daiki paced around the fire talking to the other Elders, his voice raising and falling in impassioned speech about how much better things were back in Butsuma’s day, when Katashi led the child killing squads through the forest (back before Hashirama took over and outlawed that, back before Hashirama let Tobirama hunt Katashi down in the woods like an animal to execute him the same way he killed all those children – terrified and alone), back when the Uchiha were dwindling not the Senju and they had revenge for their lost loved ones! In her seat Naki Senju smiled toothily at the mention of her dead husband by her brother, and Hashirou made an agreeing noise where he sat but Masaaki was sitting back, face in shadow and carefully blank.

Around the room the few fence sitters looked thoughtful- Tetsu looked far to convinced for Tobirama’s liking- and the faces of the greatest dissenters were rabid with fervor- Aunt Shoto was no surprise though he hated to think he would have to be a kin killer, she hated his brother’s lack of hierarchy in the clan, wanted to go back to ordering people around- and Tobirama took on more deep breath before he entered, locking down all emotion and feeling to do what he must. He was his brother’s right hand, the blade held to the neck of the world and he had killed Senju before for Hashirama; he could and would do it again.

High above it started to rain and as Tobirama stepped out of it into the hut he knew lightning flashed behind him, illuminating his bared blade (a new one, fresh from the forge and his sealing though long in the making; it was inauspicious to quench it first in the blood of his own clan, but he would do what he must; as he always had) and throwing him into shadow as his killing intent rolled off him through the room, guttering the flames. For a long moment there was silence as shinobi pulled away from him and his menace and Daiki quavered slightly before standing straighter and facing Tobirama across the fire. “What are you doing here dog, you are no longer a voice for your brother here” he smiled maliciously “or any voice at all it seems”, Tobirama let no expression cross his face as he tilted his sword and sent lighting crackling down its edge, his meaning clear; he needed no voice to say what needed to be said. ‘You-turn against-clan’ he signed, making sure the movements were clear and visible even in the dim light and in response Masaaki stood, shaking his head, “I will have no part of this madness, Hashirama-sama is our clan head and I follow him, where ever that leads us.”

With that he nodded to Tobirama and slipped past him out of the hut, Hana Senju following him a moment after with a slight bow to Tobirama, ‘And the rest’ Tobirama signed, waiting. “They aren’t cowards like you” Naki spat rising to stand with her brother “they know the best days were the old days when we weren’t led by a bumbling buffoon!” and at that Tobirama’s hand twitched, two signs and a senbon of water pierced her throat all the way through, leaving a bloody hole as she slowly crumbled to the floor in a pile of expensive silks she could never have bought in Butsuma’s day. ‘Traitor’ Tobirama signed cold as ice, looking around at the rest of them as Daiki stared at on of his last relatives, now very dead. ‘You serve-if not-traitor’ he singed, looking around at all of them; Hiro lurched to his feet and a few of the other gathered Senju inched toward the door were Tobirama stood and after a long cold stare he let Hiro and Tadashi out, the two elder scurrying away in clear terror; they would have to be watched but already Tobirama was going to be killing half his brother’s Elders, it didn’t need to be more.

Eyes cold as frozen blood Tobirama turned to the rest of the Elders, frozen with shock that Tobirama would simply kill one of them (they had forgotten what he did for his brother back when Hashirama took over then – though, back then it had been maiming only, not deaths, but what could they have expected?) and he turned his blade in his hand, breathing in once and then moving.

The rain was the only noise in the hut, all the fires out now but the one in then center and even that guttering with blood spilled over it. Dispassionately Tobirama looked at his blade, displeased to see the cracks in the metal already; he would have to think of a different way to make the Raijin no Ken work then, maybe take out metal altogether? Then it could never fail him. Thoughtlessly his fingers rose to the scar on his throat, before dropping them and looking around the blood soaked room; this would take some serious cleaning before it could be used again. It had been easy, they had been strong once but once was not now and he was very strong, they had fallen to him as wheat does to the reaper and though he stood over his aunt’s body- this aunt by blood, his last- he felt…nothing. Nothing but exhaustion, he was tired, but the bodies would have to be given a traitors burial and –

“Tobirama!” his brother’s voice calling for him from outside the hut was the last thing Tobirama wanted to hear and his back stiffened as Hashirama threw open the door and stumbled in out of the rain, the scent of blood and charring meat thick in the air. There was a long silence and Tobirama kept his back to his brother, he didn’t want to see the expression that would be on Hashirama’s face over this; didn’t want to see the disgust and the rejection and lack of understanding (he hadn’t understood the first time and Tobirama hadn’t killed anyone then). His brother’s footsteps approached and light as a feather Hashirama touched his shoulder, easing closer when Tobirama didn’t move from where he stood over Aunt Shoto; Hashirama gripped his shoulders tight but rather than spinning Tobirama to face his anger Hashirama inched closer, pressing his face to Tobirama’s hair.

His brother’s hands were shaking Tobirama realized abruptly and the exhale Tobirama could feel on the back of his neck was shaking and broken, “Thank you” Hashirama rasped “thank you Tobirama, thank you for being what I couldn’t – what I’m not brave enough to be. And I – I am so sorry, brother I’m so sorry you have to.”

Madara woke slowly, clawing his was to consciousness with his face pressed into something that smelled divine and he some how knew wasn’t soft enough. “-so the fan’s are a language?” a voice above him, “Well I mean we already knew that really, but there’s more too it, the Summons didn’t tell me everything but the fan reflects worth somehow and Tobirama’s” Madara perked up a bit at the name “it’s a disaster, like, such a mess, its old and cheep and the lacquer is peeling and it must be giving him splinters and it – the fabric is torn and at least one rib is broken and, its just…bad Kikiyo, really bad.” A sigh above him and someone straightening his blankets “So we have a near feral Madara who is terrified of hurting his Center with a Center that has no self-worth and not only blames himself for his injury but wouldn’t believe his own summons if they told him Madara was interested?” a groan “At least Tobirama does want Madara back?” someone offered but Madara was a bit stuck, mind replaying two different things like a broken record, Tobirama has no self-worth, and Tobirama wanted him. “Well, for better or worse they meet up tomorrow, we just have to be ready for the worst just incase.”

Madara wasn’t listening, Madara was still stuck on Tobirama, amazing, wonderful, brilliant, Tobirama thought he was only worth a broken, tattered fan; and also Tobirama wanted him back! There was a chance that was – (the world was washed in red and Madara cared not about the body in front of him, another expendable shinobi until, silver shards of a sword cutting through pale skin, slicing elegant pale hands to ribbons) wait, what if Madara hurt him again? What right did he have to go anywhere near Tobirama at all after what he did? He should really stay away from Tobirama for his own good but – Tobirama had no self-worth and some one had to tell him how wonderful he was and no one else seemed to want to do that so, if Madara didn’t would anyone? But what if he hurt him? What if – (the world was washed in red and Madara cared not about the body in front of him, another expendable shinobi until, silver shards of a sword cutting through pale skin, slicing elegant pale hands to ribbons, a rush of red in the air, a gapping red wound with glimpses of lighter-tissue, blood coating-) “He’s waking up, put him under again, just for today. Trust me Tobirama won’t try to do wrong by the Uchiha and you can’t control him right now.” that wasn’t a human voice, but there wasn’t time to wonder before the black rushed up again and swallowed him whole.

Chapter Text

Hashirama stared down at the black shirt in his hands, a match for the new mission blacks Hashirama had left outside his brother’s door this morning, brand new and made out of the softest fabric that could be found in the Senju compound – and given they were weavers and silk dyers that was quite soft, Hashirama just didn’t know if it was soft enough to not hurt his baby brother. His baby brother, his fucking baby brother who had been forced to kill six of the Senju Elders because Hashirama didn’t have his shit together. That night had been a nightmare and even a day full of clean up and getting the clan in order later Hashirama still hadn’t reconciled it. 

He had arrived back at the Senju compound after coming to the conclusion that whatever had happened to the Uchiha it hadn’t been something he could help and was over now only to be met by a nervous Naoki bouncing on his toes and a stern looking Elder Masaaki. The Elder had waved Naoki away and pulled Hashirama to the side, grimly telling him that the most dissident of the Elders had heard that not only was Hashirama after peace with the Uchiha he was also checking up on them and were using it to overthrow Hashirama’s hold on the clan (something that could have worked with enough of the Elders given that the clan hardly felt like Hashirama listened to them instead of assuming they wanted what he wanted, they trusted Hashirama's power but it was the Elders that they took complaints to) – or he would be, had Tobirama not gotten involved- for the second time- and taken care of the matter. In another world, one where Hashirama hadn’t been beaten over the head with how little he knew and understood his brother, he might have been angry about the violence but here; with Masaaki- who was normally so quiet- making it very clear how big the threat was and how much it would cost Tobirama to deal with it, with his own new remembrance of the brother that couldn’t understand why adults couldn’t keep the peace (with the image of his brother flinching at his voice and clutching a soft noodle-cat for comfort, of his brother recoiling from his touch and writing Your dream, always working on it’).

Now all Hashirama could think of when he burst into that blood soaked hut and saw his brother standing over their dead Aunt (the aunt that had always hated Tobirama and thought him lesser) was what it would have cost his brother to do this, to be the demon again. To be the blade their father had hammered him into again when Hashirama was beginning to see how badly Tobirama didn’t want to do that, didn’t want to be a threat held against the world; all he wanted was to cuddle his summons and make plans for treaties and plumbing for a village that didn’t even exist (yes, he had seen that on his brother’s desk). The last thing that Hashirama had wanted was to have to force his brother into doing something like this and bearing the fear from everyone when word inevitably got out; he had never wanted his brother to be the Demon if he didn’t want to, even if he had forgotten that somewhere along the way.

Now he was finally making good on an old promise (and no, he didn’t quite understand why Tobirama hadn’t just got his own- oh. Father would never have – had father ever let Tobi get anything for himself? Anything but mission basics and weapons or things he made himself, Hashirama had never seen him do that but – wouldn’t it fit the pattern? Why had that never occurred to him before? Tobirama wasn’t him, he didn’t have Hashirama’s strength and status and – Tobirama wasn’t him, he wasn’t just another tree in the forest; people weren’t like trees), finally he was making good on a promise he wished he had never forgotten and all he could do was replace Tobirama’s basic blacks (it was too bad he didn’t have time to get a new kimono for the treaty!) because it was all he could do without making his brother worry. He guessed he had the noodle-cat to thank for that, for making it easier; maybe it would steal all Tobi’s clothes and Hashirama could replace all of them! That would be nice.

A sharp rap on the door pulled his attention and he looked up to see his brother, dressed in the formal kimono and hakama he had had for years and rarely wore; the hakama were black to Hashirama’s white and the kimono a color near silver that made his brother look even paler and more ghostly, he had wrapped black shinobi wraps around his throat to hide the scar and his heavy haori with the Senju vajra on the back was in a stark white to the cream the rest of the Senju wore and once again Hashirama was remined that his father had been a bastard of the highest caliber to make Tobirama stand out like that when he knew how much Tobirama hated it. And worst of all the fabric of it all was all course and heavy Hashirama knew, he could only cringe now to think what shape Tobi’s skin must be under all that. ‘ready’ Tobirama signed at him and Hashirama turned, slight of handing the shirt back on his desk and making sure he had all his papers, this was important and he wanted to get it right!

At the door Tobirama sighed soundlessly and fought the impulse to tap his fingers, he wanted to get to the Naka and see that Madara was aright already! All of yesterday the Uchiha had spent in banked state that indicated not only blockers but also at least a little sedation and though today he was awake and focused it seemed there had also been a steady pull on Tobirama’s chakra from Aki that had led him to stashing chakra pills on his person in case it was needed later which seemed all too likely. Add his worry for Madara to the discomfort of the kimono (not just the cloth but the way it had been made to make him stand out from his clan and look paler and more unnatural), the need to not think about the way his clan was now watching him again, wondering if he was in a strange genjutsu with the way Hashirama was acting (no amount of dispelling had broken anything yet though, even when Tobirama nearly ran his chakra dry trying) and Tobirama was more than ready to head off already!

Finally Hashirama seemed to be done with whatever it was that was distracting him and his brother sent him a big smile as he trotted to the door where Tobirama waited for him, montsuki haori flapping around him, Touka and the rest of the small envoy party waiting at the gates, notably with only three elders and Hashirama’s patrol captain Ryoma in addition to the blood of the main family. A deference to the fact that Hashirama had the power to protect all of them and if he didn’t well, they were already screwed, and it was just easier in the end to only have those they trusted in the group. “Ready!” Hashirama chirped, catching Tobirama’s sleeve and toeing him after the older Senju to the gates and through them with barely a nod to Aunt Emi, and Elders Ichika and Masaaki who fell in behind the main family, Hashirama in the center with Tobirama on his right and Touka on his left; Ryoma bringing up the rear, his face inscrutable under his close cropped beard but his eyes fixed on Tobirama’s back.

They reached the river first as they had planned and with a few hand signs Hashirama built a wide bridge over the river, one wide enough to host a covered pavilion for all of them at the center so they could meet on neutral ground. Tobirama rolled his eyes at Touka at the fancy curlicues and flourishes that covered the construct, it was very Hashirama; but whatever, it looked good for an important moment and the Uchiha were bringing the tea so hopefully there would be no argument about Hashirama making it. Without a word Ryoma climbed up to hang the Senju banner on their side of the pavilion where the main family would sit at the table with the Elders behind them and Ryoma standing behind them, the only one visibly armed; with any luck it would all be enough.

Madara was hanging on by a thread, a thread of Tobirama’s chakra that was coming through Aki sitting on his shoulder, her fur getting all over his mantle and indigo montsuki haori draped over his shoulders; still better than his going crazy again though, a little hair was fine. The other thing that was keeping him holding on was the fact that he was going to see Tobirama soon, going to see that his Center was ok with his own two eyes and that mattered more than anything. The river came into view and Madara felt his entire body vibrating with excitement, keeping his eyes black only with sheer force of will, and Aki’s purring in his ear. On the bridge-pavilion Madara noted the details with a fraction of his attention, eyes fixed on his Center next to Hashirama, all but glowing and looking like the most perfect thing Madara had ever seen and completely ignoring Izuna suddenly whispering to Kikiyo and Hikaku in a hushed but urgent voice “-if he finds out now-! Here-!”  whatever, none of that mattered, Madara could see Tobirama standing next to his brother, tall and perfect and gorgeous but for the black wraps around his throat. For once his Sharingan wasn’t bothering him, he was to transfixed at the way Tobirama’s chakra washed out and curled around him in a soothing wave, so much more potent than it had been from Aki. He felt sane and steady for the first time since the battlefield and when Hashirama addressed him Madara could even rip his eyes away from his Center to look at his counterpart; little though he wanted too.

“Madara!” the big Senju cheered, looking like he would have liked to jump and engulf Madara in a hug but a hand on his arms from both sides subdued him to just bouncing in place as the Uchiha raised an unimpressed brow, glad he had brought the montsuki haori over his Uchiha mantle and done if hair up in gold kanzashi given that the Senju were all in kimono, though that might be what they wore around home when they weren’t in armor? They did make them after all. “Hashirama” Madara greeted, ignoring the slightly too rough sound of his own voice and glad he had kept his group small as well, only his brother, cousins and a few Elders that couldn’t be ignored. On either side of him Izuna and Kikiyo were greeting their counterparts as Hikaku hung the Uchiha banner on their side of the pavilion, and then it was time for Madara to greet Tobirama, turning his eyes on the pale figure next to Hashirama (odd colors for his clothing given the rest of the clan) and unable to keep his voice from deepening and softening as he addressed his Center for the first time.

“Senju,” he started and then, because he couldn’t help himself added “Tobirama” not quite about to keep his tongue from curling around the word like it was rare and relished, something that must have been noted a bit as those lovely, slanted eyes widened slightly as Tobirama bowed to him politely but chose not to say anything. Had Madara made him uncomfortable? No, almost certainly not with the way the cool star-sea chakra swirled up and around him in a strange and shiver inducing welcome. Perhaps he was simply a man of few words then, at the least Madara could and would enjoy his chakra and the nuanced communication that came through it; far more than Madara would have guessed chakra could be used for, he would have to work on it in return.

It was only with great difficultly that Madara pulled his attention from Tobirama to greet the other of Hashirama’s relatives and be introduced to the Elders behind them, Kikiyo doing the same on his other side with their own Elders – who were mostly blank faced and Kikiyo had chosen while Madara was out of it under the blockers and sedatives. “So,” Hashirama cheered as they settled to sit, introductions finally over as Kikiyo made tea and Izuna and Tobirama produced documents “peace finally”. Madara jerked his eyes away from Tobirama to look at the older Senju again, keeping his face clear through long practice; had something happened? Hashirama looked…older, worn and a little broken in a way that grounded him as Madara had never seen before (and was honestly a little relived to see), Touka he didn’t know so maybe she always looked so grim and the Elders were looking stern but there was something about – ah, that was it, there was too much distance between them and Tobirama, like they were avoiding the younger Senju brother and the Senju Guard was watching Tobirama not the Uchiha. What in the world-?

“It would have come sooner had you sent me something so well written before” Madara probed, wanting to see if Hashirama would tell him Tobirama wrote the documents (after all the Uchiha Elders and the clan pride would never have allowed them to reach out first to a clan of lower technical status as the Senju weren’t actually tithe paying nobility for all their wealth and power). Hashirama squirmed in his seat like a disciplined child, looking regretful, “In hindsight I can say that was a mistake, I should have listened to my brother sooner but I thought – well, never mind what I thought, I was wrong and I am just grateful that my br-“ there was a sharp tug on Hashirama’s sleeve and he cut himself off before continuing “things were already so well prepared.” Tobirama was stopping his brother from telling them he was the one to write the documents Madara realized with a jolt, Tobirama was stopping it and Hashirama was letting him though he didn’t look happy about it.

Why would Tobirama not want-? Wait, hadn’t Madara heard a conversation about something like this yesterday? That Tobirama had terrible self-worth (Madara was watching for that damned fan)? Could he be stopping his brother because of that? Well, that wouldn’t do at all now would it, Madara wasn’t going to have it and if he could get it acknowledged he would have a reason to talk more to Tobirama than to Hashirama as the actual architect of this. “Yes, you are very lucky to be blessed with a brother so gifted in so many things and skilled enough to write ceasefires and peace treaties. I think I can say we are all grateful to Tobirama for his foresight and fairhandedness” Madara said evenly, holding Tobirama’s eyes as they widened in shock and that lovely thin mouth (-thin bubbles of blood at the corners of thin pale lips-) softened in surprise so deep it looked more like shock, but to Madara’s joy he didn’t argue the use of his name, just licked his lips and glanced at his brother before nodding unsurely at Madara, a very faint flush of pink over his cheekbones and ears as the Uchiha curled chakra around the albino in reassurance of his honesty.

Hashirama flat out breamed, apparently thrilled to not be having to hide that and have his brother praised (good, that soothed one fear Madara had had), “You don’t even know the half of it!” he chirped “Tobira is so good at so many things and-oof“ a sharp elbow in his side cut off Hashirama’s words as Tobirama looked away, looking deeply discomfited as he withdrew his elbow from his sibling's side and slid the documents further over the table meaningfully (that was…odd, it was strange he hadn’t said anything yet, wasn’t it?). Izuna cleared his throat and snatched up the papers, swapping them with his and splaying them in front of Madara who had yet to look away from his Center (Silver-) who was refusing to look at anyone at the table. Tentatively Madara curled his chakra around the albino again, loose but palpable and the red eyes snapped up to him, guarded but gorgeous and softening a bit at the feel of the chakra (Izuna was right! Tobirama did like his chakra!) (he shouldn’t, what if Madara hurt him? what if Madara’s chakra hurt him? the way it had the Uchiha in the compound? Oh everyone had recovered but he had given three Elders heart attacks and awakened two Sharingan-)

“Here” Madara blinked out of his thoughts down at the document Izuna shoved in front of him, tapping a passage about the trade routes and who would be allowed through, right, they were here for a reason, not just for Madara to stare at his Center. “This section here, it could use some clarity” Madara said, talking straight to Tobirama “does this mean that the trade caravans are to be allowed to pass through both clan’s lands or that they are to be accompanied by Senju and Uchiha wears?” the later would take more trust but had real advantages as it all allowed them to have access to the food production the Senju vassal clans did and he was guessing the Senju could use better metalwork from what they had scrounged on the battlefield but he wasn’t sure they were ready for that yet trust wise.

There was a pause, next to Madara Izuna shifted awkwardly and Tobirama’s red eyes went wide with what was clearly shock, staring at Madara. Next to him Hashirama had gone rigid with tension, and it was his voice that broke the silence in which Kikiyo seemed to be holding her breath, “I – I don’t –“ he paused, glanced at his silent brother (wait), looked at Madara “which ever you prefer?” there was no certainty to it and Tobirama was still silent even as his brows pulled in disagreement. “Which ever we prefer?” Madara asked slowly, looking between the two Senju brothers and very aware of the tension in his own kin around him, “What was the intention when the document was written?” he pressed, feeling cold and chakra building around his eyes even as he strained to hold them steady.

Silence.

Hashirama glanced helplessly at his brother and Tobirama’s lips pursed before he raised his hands and shaped out what looked to be mission signs, ones Madara could only half understand. ‘Intended-jhgbslfhj-srgng-trust signifier-ally-dfsbfsfhjbgs-sjhgjghsgk’ but whatever Hashirama was translating that as Madara wasn’t listening he was thinking about (“so the fan’s are a language?”) about (-a gapping red wound with glimpses of lighter-tissue,-) about depth and healing and –

No.

No, it couldn’t – his eyes lingered on the black wraps around Tobirama’s throat – if he had – if he had permanently – but had he really thought there wouldn’t be side effects? (Why hadn't Hashirama healed it? Why when he could heal almost anything?) When after all (the world was washed in red and Madara cared not about the body in front of him, another expendable shinobi until, silver shards of a sword cutting through pale skin, slicing elegant pale hands to ribbons, a rush of red in the air, a gapping red wound with glimpses of lighter-tissue, blood coating a pale, slashed hand and neck and blue breastplate, thin bubbles of blood at the corners of thin pale lips as blood flooded his airway, red, slanted eyes met his), his vision was starting to bleed red-violet and Madara didn’t even notice as he breathed through numb lips, “You can’t speak can you.”

The words hung in the air for a long moment, (the world was washed in red and Madara cared not about the body in front of him, another expendable shinobi until, silver shards of a sword cutting through pale skin, slicing elegant pale hands to ribbons, a rush of red in the air, a gapping red wound with glimpses of lighter-tissue, blood coating a pale-) a pale hand lifting to a long throat (was he bleeding? He wasn’t this time right? was he?) and then a slow shake of a white head and Madara’s world broke

Chapter Text

Tobirama was in shock. Madara knew his name, Madara was calling him by his name, Madara knew he had written the documents and was complimenting them, and him on them, Madara knew who he was! How – how was Tobirama supposed to deal with this? This clear lack of aggression towards Tobirama (he – he might, maybe, maybe, have…it felt crazy to even think it but, favored Tobirama?) and attention the Uchiha was paying him combined with the way he responded to Tobirama’s chakra with an attentiveness and responsiveness Tobirama had never even dared dream of (and he looked so stunning with his hair pulled back like that on top of it all). It had him so off balance that it actually took Tobirama a bit to realize that Madara had no idea about his muteness; Izuna and the Red Crane both seemed to though their stress and clear worry about something had Tobirama on edge, as did Aki’s presence on Madara’s shoulder and constant calming purring, so much so that it wasn’t until Tobirama realized that Madara was determined to talk to him and not Hashirama- Tobirama had never dreamed that Madara would so much as glance at him, much less talk to him over Hashirama- and kept asking direct questions that Tobirama realized he had no way to respond (oh, oh that…hurt) and on top of that there was something odd happening to Madara’s chakra, though his face was impassive and inscrutable.

Confused and increasingly worried about the tension in Izuna and the other Uchiha, as well as flustered from the attention he craved so badly, Tobirama pursed his lips and raised his hands to sign to Hashirama what the section had meant, hardly paying attention to what he was saying as he watched Madara’s eyes (were they…slightly violet?) fasten on his hands. Those magnetic eyes dropped to Tobirama’s throat and Tobirama could almost feel it like a phantom touch on his skin and Madara’s eyes were definitely not black anymore, though it wasn’t like the Sharingan that Tobirama had seen before.  “You can’t speak, can you.” Madara breathed, sounding…odd, and the other Uchiha had gone white as sheets, their normally creamy skin more Tobirama’s color than their own warmer tone.

Unconsciously Tobirama raised a hand to touch his throat and the wraps, transfixed with the way Madara’s chakra was winding tighter and tighter; the already dense chakra growing thicker and heavier, a nearly physical weight that was hitting everyone but Tobirama who relished the weight even as he disliked the increasing caustic feeling to it. A little dazed at the feeling Tobirama slowly shook his head, eyes locked on Madara as something in his face shattered. His chakra pulsed and writhed, dark eyes spinning red and then into something that looked like the Mangekyō- only too jagged- on a nearly completely violet background shot through with bloody red, his chakra lashed and Aki yowled, dragging on Tobirama’s chakra as she tried to wrap it around Madara and it seemed to calm the man slightly even as blood started dripping down his face and Tobirama –

Vaguely Tobirama knew everyone but him and Hashirama were nearly prostrate on the ground with the force of Madara’s chakra- even Hashirama bowing a bit under the force- Tobirama knew that but he didn’t care, he didn’t think, seeing blood drip out of those eyes he didn’t think. In an instant he lunched himself over the table, sending the tea flying as he all but landed in the Uchiha head’s lap and pressed green glowing fingers to Madara’s temples right at the corners of his eyes, pausing only long enough to pop a chakra pill and then sending his chakra racing through Madara’s coils, trying to diagnose the problem so he could soothe it without thinking how it might be received (Aki used his chakra to calm Madara, surely it would be ok? It must be the opposing nature of it that helped).

Unthinkingly he shifted a bit on the older man’s lap- forcefully ignoring the delicious stretch of his legs over Madara’s strong, thick thighs, now was so not the time for that- using as much chakra as he could and still have fine control to thread through Madara’s and sooth the jagged cracks he could feel in the older man’s coils. Closing his eyes to focus better Tobirama bowed his head slightly closer to the Uchiha, shutting out everything in the world but the straining pull of Madara’s chakra as it tried to rip itself apart. Threading his chakra through Madara’s eyes- and kami he must be out of it to let Tobirama do that- seemed to help, washing away the corrosion and cushioning the burning power like the dark of night cradles the stars in the ferment (distantly he felt hands land on his thighs, dragging up to cup his hips but not trying to move him – which was very good considering how much chakra Tobirama had threaded through Madara at the moment).

The rest, kami Madara’s coils were a burning mess, whatever was wrong with him it was leaving great tears in his chakra coils and it took everything Tobirama had to weave membranes of glittering darkness from his own chakra over those holes; hoping it would hold until Madara could start to heal on his own. If he couldn’t heal Madara was going to go up in flame and burn the whole world down around him (if he did would the odd jaggedness of his Mangekyō actually crack and break like his chakra was doing? The Sharingan was clearly far more than Tobirama had realized), but Tobirama wouldn’t let it; oh sure the Uchiha would probably be unhappy with him for all the liberties he was taking with their clan head (kami bless he was sitting in Madara’s lap, that would piss them off for sure and he was fairly sure his own clothing was showing rather more skin than it should as well from his scramble over the table just to make it worse) but Tobirama was not letting Madara implode and take Fire with him, not when the albino refused to have to go without that wonderful chakra for the rest of his life.

From very far away as Tobirama wove Madara’s chakra coils back together with his own chakra the albino was aware that the others were recovering from their reactions to Madara’s chakra but when someone reached for him both Izuna and the Red Crane stopped them which was a blessing Tobirama wasn’t going to question as he needed all his chakra and attention on smoothing the edges where they were blade sharp, and cleansing both the internal corrosion and an odd….tar like substance that had no place in the Uchiha’s coils and was rather concerning. So he ignored it as Izuna batted Hashirama’s hands away, yelping “NO! Don’t, let Tobirama do what he has to do!”

Izuna had known it would be bad when his brother figured out about Tobirama’s voice but he hadn’t – well he hadn’t thought it through, hadn’t realized the line between Center-feral and Center-broke as so thin until he could see his brother shattering and couldn’t even move with the weight of Madara’s chakra pressing down on him. It said a lot about the power of Hashirama Senju that he had only slumped and slowed at the weight, but it said things Izuna didn’t understand that it didn’t seem to bother Tobirama at all given the speed with which the albino had reacted and thrown himself at Madara. Izuna had been worried for a moment until he saw the green at Tobirama’s fingers (and remembered what the summons had said, then he felt a bit chagrined) and the way that the albino landed in his brother’s lap with his fingers already at Madara’s eyes, intent on healing when the rest of them couldn’t even move.

And it worked, the caustic feeling like acid mist on the skin eased and Madara’s hands landed on Tobirama’s thighs where they were splayed over him before dragging up in what could only be a caress to curl around slender hips, burning holes in the silver-white kimono but somehow not hurting the pale skin under it (distantly Izuna marked the redness of the skin under that cloth with a frown, clearly the Uchiha needed to take over dressing Tobirama; this was not ok!). Tobirama closed his eyes, brows furrowed in concentration as his chakra wreathed Madara, deep and dark and cool even to Izuna who was no sensor at all (that…Tobirama was burning through a lot of chakra, that wasn’t great was it) and as he did Madara’s chakra melded with it like stars studding the sky on a moon-less night (kami, it was…beautiful, Izuna had never thought it would be that) and the feral feel eased as did the near brokenness to Izuna’s deep relief (he wasn’t going to lose his brother to this!).

But then Hashirama reached for his brother, looking worried and Izuna had no idea what the older Senju was going to do but he knew that if they interrupted this now they would lose Madara (and probably Tobirama if Izuna was reading this right) and Izuna batted Hashirama’s hands away, yelping “NO! Don’t, let Tobirama do what he has to do!” even as Kikiyo shifted to place herself at Tobirama’s venerable back (good, she, like him, had seen the way the Senju guard was looking at Tobirama, a little too assessing for comfort). No Uchiha in their right mind would try and separate Madara from his Center and- Izuna glanced at his brother who was staring to Tobirama with a rapturous expression, Mangekyō smooth again though he thought the pattern had changed a little (was – was that the Eternal? No, right? No way….right?) and it seemed equal parts red and violet now- so there was little worry there, but the Senju had no idea what was going on and they might.

“You can’t separate them, Tobirama is the only thing keeping Madara from blowing us all sky high” he paused, not sure how to make clear how big the threat was “did you know about the incident at the Uchiha compound day before yesterday?” Hashirama’s eyes narrowed and he was still very focused on his brother but he nodded. “Tobi felt it and sent us to check on it. His summons was pulling his chakra to help I am guessing?” (oh, ok, Izuna hadn’t expected Hashirama to make that jump but he had seen Aki sitting on Madara and he must have noticed his brother being chakra drained for no reason so, made sense he guessed) Izuna nodded, “Tobirama calms him, the way nothing else does; I – I would explain it to you but honestly Tobirama deserves to hear it first. Just know that your brother is keeping mine sane and – interrupting this would be….bad.”

Madara was entranced, he could feel his Center in his lap, the warm weight soothing and, enflaming, both at once; the feel of those strong, lean thighs and the slender hips under his hands (hmm, he could feel skin, he wished he knew healing jutsu for that irritation, was it the fabric? Madara didn’t like that) holding all of his attention that wasn’t lost in admiring the vulpine face so close he could feel the sot puff of Tobirama’s breath on his skin. He had never been this close before and he was taking the time to memorize the number of white lashes under the thin lining of kohl; tracing the red lines in his skin and the chapped thin lips that were slightly parted with breaths, the thin line between white brows as cool, deep, star-sea chakra wound through him, easing the burning until Madara felt nearly dazed with it.

This was his Center, his Center who was sitting on him, who when Madara was on the edge of losing himself had leapt to help him and ease his pain rather than being cowed by his chakra. His Center who was putting back together the holes in Madara’s chakra that had been torn by (Silv-star-sea, deep, cool, calm), his Center, Tobirama who had lunged over the table to help him instead of seeing him as a threat even after Madara had hurt him so badly (had taken away his very voice). Tobirama who Madara didn’t even begin to deserve but wanted, wanted so much it was an almost physical pain in his gut and if this was the only time he was going to have with his center he was going to relished every second of it, memorize every single iota of it for later when he was alone and felt like he was going to burn everything no matter what he did. Then he would come back to this moment and count white eyelashes and breaths on his skin and dream of the way it felt to have Tobirama in his lap.

Chapter Text

Tobirama lost track of all time as he worked, focused entirely on soothing Madara’s chakra into a smooth flow again, coaxing the star back to burning from the supernova it wanted to go; but eventually there was nothing more to be done and his chakra was exhausted even with the help of the pill and though he would need to check that his work was holding it was easy enough to cut his forefinger on his Hatake sharp eyetooth and draw a small seal on Madara’s chest, though he had to shift the wide collar of the Uchiha’s mantle to do it and forced himself to ignore the creamy, warm skin under his finger; focusing on being glad no one was stopping him. Madara would need a small stream of his chakra to hold things together until he healed on his own and unlike stiches the chakra Tobirama used could be worn out and would need replenishing which Tobirama couldn’t do from a distance – unless he had a seal, hence using one as he was fairly sure Madara wouldn’t let Tobirama follow him home!

Exhausted and dizzy from chakra exhaustion Tobirama swayed a little and felt Madara’s broad, gloved hands tighten on his hips to hold him upright (ohhh, kami that felt nice, Madara had nice hands, very nice) and he dazedly let his hand slide down Madara’s chest (ooooohhhh, that, that was a nice chest, so firm and-) to hang limply in his lap (he, he should get out of the Uchiha’s lap shouldn’t he). There were voices around him and Madara’s chest rumbled with speech as he responded to his brother and Tobirama swayed again, pawing at his pouch for another chakra pill, that should at least let him get off of poor Madara who must be well and truly sick of him at this point. “Tobirama, Tobirama, are you ok?” that was Touka, he should respond to Touka, how could he respond to Touka? Touka, Touka was fan safe and if he shifted right Hashirama still wouldn’t see it even if Madara would and that sent Tobirama’s heart plummeting. But, at least he wouldn’t know what it meant right? And Izuna had already seen it so…(after all Madara had known about Tobirama doing the documents so Izuna must be reporting everything, right?)

Exhausted Tobirama unsealed his fan and shifted so Touka could see his hands, but his brother and the other Senju couldn’t (though it was possible Aunt Emi could, he was too tired to tell), flicking it through (fine/tired/chakra exhaustion/healing/used a lot to stabilize/feels good) (oops, he hadn’t intended to add that last bit) with clumsy, numb fingers. Touka’s eyes narrowed and Hashirama made some sort of noise Tobirama couldn’t categorize (but he was sure his brother couldn’t see, sure) but she just nodded short and sharp even as Madara’s hands tightened firmly on his hips (which, felt lovely, but, was he trying to get rid of Tobirama?) (Oh! Was he going to leave bruises?!!) and clumsily Tobirama shifted to get off before Madara tossed him off. The Uchiha’s hands tightened further, shifting to hold at his waist and refusing to let Tobirama move. Well, ok, Tobirama wasn’t complaining about staying put, he just didn’t know why Madara – oh! Wait, he would want Tobirama to stay incase his chakra started ripping again- what had started that anyway?- that would sort of make sense, more than anything else at least. The problem was that Tobirama was exhausted and it was clouding his head, leaving him sagging into Madara in a bit of a daze (not helped by the fact that Madara’s clean chakra was curling around him and brushing questioningly up against his senses and leaving him shivery with warmth).

Hashirama’s jaw tightened as his little brother sagged into Madara, the Uchiha’s big hands spanning a worrying large amount of Tobirama’s narrow waist even as Touka said, “He’s fine, it’s just chakra exhaustion from stabilizing Uchiha-sama” (which – how did she know that detail? Mission signs didn’t show that much did they?). Madara himself looked, frankly, a lot better; his Mangekyō was still spinning and in a new pattern on a purple background shot through with red but the tense lines of his face had relaxed and the bleeding had stopped to Hashirama’s relief. Much less reliving was the way he was fixated on the clearly exhausted Tobirama (of course Tobi was tired! He had been riding the line of too little chakra for several days now – and now that Hashirama saw Aki he could guess why) and the way he was holding the albino – though….kami even Hashirama could see the way that Madara was holding Tobirama in his lap like he was the most precocious thing on the planet which, when combined with the way Madara had spoken to Tobi before, Hashirama had no idea what was going on and he had no idea how to feel about it (this was his baby brother! But on the other hand, Madara clearly needed to be kept stable- that chakra wasn’t something even Hashirama would want to have to go up against- and clearly was…fond of Tobi somehow, which Hashirama was a big fan of people appreciating Tobi, he just didn’t-)-

In Madara’s lap Tobirama sagged further, white head dropping to sit on the Uchiha’s shoulder as Touka sat up a little straighter, “Look in his hip pouch, knowing Tobi he will have chakra pills there and that should help him revive for a bit; it won’t last forever but you’ll be able to explain what the fuck is going on at least.” Madara twitched sharply and his spinning eyes snapped to her like it was taking him a second to follow her instructions as his arm slid around Tobi’s waist to stabilize him even as he shifted to open the pouch with the other hand (kami Tobi looked slender against the broader Uchiha, Hashirama had never seen his brother so relaxed and calm unless he was fully unconscious and it was a little distracting). Madara retrieved a pill and tightened the arm around Tobirama’s waist, nudging the white head with his cheek, “Hey” he rumbled, voice shockingly intimate “com’on, you should take this Tobirama, you’ll want to know what’s going on.”

Tobirama whined soundlessly, lips moving against the neck his face was tucked in, he was comfortable and warm and he didn’t want to move or wake up and start thinking about – “I know” the broad chest under him vibrated “but it’ll matter to you later, truly” more than the words it was the nudging chakra curling around him that convinced Tobirama to turn his head and let gloved fingers slip the bitter pill past his lips, face screwing up in disgust at the taste. Distantly he heard Izuna whispering in Madara’s ear, something about “-she said that he does want you, but he will never – so you have to fight for him, do you want to leave him with the Senju? You saw the fan! You see the way the guard is looking at him! I know you’re-“ but anything else was lost in the sudden sickening rush of the chakra pill kicking in and jolting his exhausted coils painfully as energy rushed back and with it awareness of his actions.

In a flash Tobirama tried to launch himself out of Madara’s lap, face flushing with shame as he realized he had all but been cuddling the poor man, who never asked for that even if he did know who Tobirama was. The Uchiha’s arms shifted like he was trying to do something (push him off? pull him closer?) but Tobirama had always been fast and slippery, and he slid back and around the end of the table before contact could be made (kami, how could he have just lunged at the Uchiha head like that! He was lucky he hadn’t been killed by the rest of the clan) and immediately bowed to the gathered Uchiha in apology, flickering his chakra apologetically at Madara since he seemed sensitive to it and there was no other way he could think of to express his burning shame over his actions (he had been acting like a fucking cat in heat! Poor Madara must have been so disgusted, he was kind to have been so gentle with Tobirama even if Tobirama was using his chakra to hold the Uchiha’s coils together from ripping).

“I think” said Aunt Emi sharply “that we should adjourn for today and reconvene in a few days after everyone has had a chance to recover and Uchiha-sama has had a chance to stabilize his health. At that point an explanation would be most appreciated but for now I think it would be better to take some time to gather ourselves.” Tobirama flicked a grateful glance at his aunt and a pleading one at his brother, he didn’t want to stay any longer with the chakra pill burning through him and making it hard to focus and his own shame for his actions after he had healed Madara (he didn’t regret healing Madara, that he couldn’t regret). Hashirama hesitated but nodded a moment later, he might not be feeling the aftereffects of Madara’s chakra the way the Elders seemed to be but he could understand that they were and he had to indulge them; he had too few not to at this point so as much as he would like the promised explanation maybe waiting was the way to go.

“Wait!” Touka snapped “I want an explanation and-“ Tobirama shot her a desperate  look, he just wanted to go home before he keeled over and fainted and he couldn’t do that if they stayed, surely it could wait a few days? Please, Tobirama just wasn’t ready to face this yet, he wasn’t. Touka’s jaw jumped but she stopped talking and folded her arms, looking away as Hashirama started making hurried goodbyes to the Uchiha party. “Please, Tobirama” at Madara’s voice the albino chanced a glance through his lashes at the Uchiha head “don’t – you don’t need to apologize to me,” those lovely big hands reached out and lifted him to sit upright again, “you don’t need to bow to me, not – not ever, if anything it is I who should to you for” his eyes- once again black- dropped to Tobirama’s neck and the albino waved his hand, flickering his chakra reassuringly; after all it had been his sword that broke. “Well, I don’t agree with that, it was in no way your fault, you were protecting your clan head and brother” Madara said, a frown pulling at his surprisingly fine features and Tobirama started, it was like he was responding to what the Senju had thought! “and still, I owe you more than you can know for what I have taken from you and your family.” Which, didn’t make sense, did it?

But Tobirama was given no time to question as his vision was starting to blur with come down from the pill and Touka was all but hauling him to his feet, Aunt Emi falling in on his other side as Hashirama lingered a little at their backs and the rest leading the way back to the compound. They only made it past the tree line when Tobirama’s chakra failed and the black swallowed him up again, Touka’s yelp following him down.

Madara could feel his Center’s chakra humming around him, curling through his coils and soothing pain Madara had grown used too after so long and at the center the small, simple seal that his Center had drawn on Madara’s chest just under the notch of his collar bones. Kami but he could still feel the trace of that cool finger on his bare skin and it was enthralling, (he wanted to feel that soft touch everywhere, tracing his muscles and-) he blessed every second that his Sharingan had recorded of Tobirama so close; of the brush of that thick white hair brushing his neck and cheek and the cool metal of the happuri. The feel of those thin lips on his gloved fingers when he gave him that pill and the way he leaned against Madara so yieldingly and pliantly; so trustingly even after everything that Madara had done and taken from him (maybe, maybe Izuna was right, maybe Tobirama did want him, Madara just wasn’t sure he was good enough for Tobirama). It was burned into his memory how it felt to wrap his arm around that narrow waist and cradle him close as their chakra’s wound together in the most intimate embrace he could imagine.

“-Madara, Madara! You’re going to just let them leave! That’s your Center and-“ sharply Madara held up a hand to cut his brother’s sharp voice off, already planning (Tobirama would need a new kimono for the new meeting, since Madara had burned this one, that meant he could send him something nice!) and thinking about their next meeting. “Enough Izuna, Tobirama wanted to leave; he was all but desperate to go, I wasn’t going to force him to stay if he felt the need to leave that badly.” Madara said, aware his voice sounded weary beyond belief “we will talk at the next meeting, I think he has me stabilized for now and it should hold until then” after all he had new memories to push back against the first memory of his Center and even if they would never be as strong as that first one it was still something and still strong with the feeling of their chakra winding together.

“Come, let us return to the compound, I have a new kimono to find and a clan to reassure.” There was minimal grumbling from the Elders to Madara’s relief as he was turning something else over in his mind; he had seen that fan that Izuna had told him so much about and it was every bit as sad and tattered as his brother had warned him (kami but Madara hated what that meant about his Center’s self-worth) but there was something else about the cheep thing that was bothering Madara. He would swear that he had seen that fan before, that he had done something with it; it was ringing a bell in the back of his head that he couldn’t quite shut off. But where would he have seen a fan like that much less touched it? There had been marks on a few of the ribs that made it look like it had been used defensively against blades some time ago and it looked most like a cheap festival fan but where would Madara have – wait, there had been a mission, years ago now where he and Izuna were at a festival to draw out some bloodline thieves.

It had been a good memory and as Madara reached into his Sharingan and triggered it he was more and more sure that it was the same fan. But, how? And why would Tobirama – wait, the memory progressed and – those barrels, them falling had been a bit strange but they had taken their luck without question at the time. But…he dug deeper into the memory, and there, a flash of white; a young maiko with powder white hair that Madara had only the slightest glance at through the crowd but – with everything else….Tobirama had been there, and, given another flicker of white at the stand where the barrels were, it seemed like the albino had both helped him and then later come out and picked up the festival fan that Madara had dropped. Which….why?

Why would Tobirama- who must have been so young, he was Izuna’s age right?- have been there at the same time, seen them and done nothing, and then helped them, and then after they left come out and not only picked up the fan but kept it. Why? Why do any of it and why keep it and why – why use it now? Madara needed more information about what fans meant to the Senju and how they were used (who gave the fans? Did Senju pick them for themselves? How did the language work? Could Madara speak it? Could Madara give Tobirama a new fan? One that wasn’t quite so…painful?) and luckily he had the perfect source ridding on his shoulder, if Aki was willing to tell him and he thought she just might.

Aki eyed the fluffy Uchiha with some suspicion, she- mostly- trusted him after seeing him interact with her summoner but, still, divulging so many of the secrets of the Senju…but, on the other hand, if she had her way Tobirama would be mated to the Uchiha, so, he would know one way or another and maybe it was fine to tell him. The leopard sighed deeply and tucked her feet under her body, “I will tell you about the Senju fan customs” she decided, “sit and listen carefully.” Madara immediately perked up, picking up a brushed and listening with clear interest as she explained that the fans came from either the head of the household or the head of the clan as a coming of age, that the fan reflected the worth of the receiver and that no Senju could begin a courtship without a fan so not having one was as good as being told you went good enough to have a relationship. That picking up your own fan the way that Tobirama had was as good as spitting on the clan and considered deeply shameful, like claiming that you knew better than the rest of your clan. That Tobirama was regarded as either frigid for not using the fan to talk to his clanmates- by those who didn’t know he had none- or that there was something wrong with him- by those that did know that both father and brother had never given him one, proclaiming him as unworthy of having one or a relationship both-. 

As she spoke Madara’s face darkened and grew angrier and after a moment he threw down his brush and tangled his hand in his wild hair “So I can’t give him a fan to replace the one he has without shaming him” the Uchiha ground out and Aki ducked her head to lick a paw to hide her smugness. “No, you can’t give him one, but you are a shinobi aren’t you? You can do slight of hand? Just, replace it, and then” she eyed him until he looked back at her “when a Senju weds they are given a new fan, one made of slats rather than ribs and fabric, if you wed him you could more than give him one of those” Madara perked up at that and Aki knew from the way he was rubbing his fingers and the small burn scars under those gloves that he was thinking of his love of glass blowing and what he could make for Tobirama. Then his handsome face fell somewhat, “I – I don’t know that I should – Tobirama deserves better than someone that nearly killed him and took away his voice. He deserves better than-“ Aki snorted sharply, leaping to her feet and pacing forward to shove a paw on the seal she could feel on his skin to keep him from falling back into a flashback again.

“Whatever he deserves I will tell you that you are what he wants, or did you think it was an accident that he picked up an old fan of yours and kept it all these years? Did you miss the way his pupils dilated when he touched you?” and man, seeing that when her summoner’s hands trailed down the Uchiha’s chest was not something Aki had needed. “the way he relaxed against you? Do you think he does that often even at his most exhausted? I have never seen my summoner so trusting and I tell you now, as your brother told you, that if you just fight for him he is yours and if you do not fight for him I do not think anyone will and I tell you now that if you think the fan he has now is bad it can get so much worse.” Madara was staring at her, pale face and looking drawn though his eyes had glazed a bit at the memory of those pale hands down his chest, “I don’t deserve him” he whispered, chakra flickering before Tobirama’s lingering power smoothed it and Aki snarled a little, creeping closer in threat as she hissed. “I don’t care, he wants you- he needs you- so you better figure your shit out and take care of him!”

Chapter Text

Tobirama dreamt; a strange mishmash of the stretch of his legs over those muscle-thick thighs and a strong arm- kami everything about Madara was thick with muscle from swinging that ridiculous war fan- wrapped around his waist hauling him in closer as his hands pressed to the firm, broad chest; heat sending shudders down his back and pooling in his gut and blood dripping through his fingers, spilling in bright waves over his hands as he struggled to fix the dark eyes he so adored, each touch of his chakra ripping the bright orbs open and spilling gore over his hand and down his arms as Tobirama sobbed breathlessly. The dreams tangling together and a broad gloved hand spanned the small of his back, gloved fingers pressing at his lips that Tobirama sucked into his mouth without a thought, soft leather wetting on his tongue as a deep groan rumbled in Madara’s broad chest mixed with a pained noise slipping through surprisingly full lips as Tobirama sobbed apologies, franticly struggling to fix what he was ruining even as his touch made it worse with every attempt.

A sharp sting of pain yanked Tobirama awake, confused and sobbing dryly as he struggled to shake off the vestiges of the dream Madara hitched him in closer, hand curling around the side of Tobirama’s jaw, wet leather making the albino shivering as a that sharp nose traced the line of his neck and – and the heat it generated. Curling over his knees and shaking, hands tangled in his hair, he wasn’t – he wasn’t allowed to want Madara like that; he didn’t have a real fan, he was – he wasn’t something that Madara would ever want even if he was kinder than Tobirama had ever anticipated and – another sharp sting yanked him out of his head as Akira hissed at him. “Whatever you’re thinking stop” the snow leopard snarled, nosing at his hand “it will do you no good, and if you are thinking badly about yourself again stop that too; from what Touka-cousin told me your mate was quite happy to have you close to him” Tobirama shivered, he wanted to believe her but at the same time he just – he couldn’t – it made so little sense how kind Madara was being to him and now he was dreaming –

Feeling choked and strangled Tobirama launched himself at his summons, wrapping his arms around her neck and hiding his wet face in her soft fur as Akira started to purr; “I didn’t tell, there wasn’t time with the cursed Elders in the middle of it, but I spoke to the weasel summons and he said that Madara-mate is already mated to you, they were coming to try and figure out if you would be open to a relationship with him. Apparently he is going crazy over it, something to do with their Sharingan- called a Center? not sure what that means- Izuna-kitten said that you were the most important thing to his brother and though his brother was wrestling with some of his own fear he promised that as soon as he knew you needed him he would never leave you.” Tobirama froze, face still hidden in her fur as he tried to reconcile that with – but, Madara had been so kind to him and the way he had touched Tobirama, it hadn’t – hadn’t felt….kami it felt crazy to even think it, but it hadn’t felt like he was trying to get Tobirama off him, more like he was trying to keep him in place. He certainly didn’t have to hold Tobirama so gently (though to Tobirama’s muted and shameful joy he did have bruises at his hips) or treat him so softly or speak to him so caringly, especially at the end when he told Tobirama not to bow to him.

But, still, it was Tobirama, why would Madara ever be interested in Tobirama and what did it have to do with his Sharingan? (Tobirama hadn’t forgotten the mess that was the Uchiha’s eyes, was that Tobirama’s fault?) This, this didn’t make sense to him and he couldn’t follow – “Here” Akira’s voice was muffled as she shoved a fabric wrapped package into his hands “this came for you while you were recovering, its been a day already by the way, from the Uchiha.” Hands shaking and confused Tobirama unfolded the blue fabric and sucked in a shocked gasp at the spill of cobalt blue fabric that unfolded over his hands, soft as cool creek water and embroidered with silver dragons. “Hmm” Akira rumbled, nosing at the fabric “a replacement for the one he burned then, and very good fabric, this one won’t hurt you finally” (though Akira hadn’t missed that the tree brother was trying to replace Tobirama’s blacks with softer things, it was about damned time, now Tobi-cub just needed to find them) but this…this was stunning and possibly the most expensive thing Tobirama had ever owned (also one of the most personal, it actually was something he wanted to use!).

Mesmerized he stroked the fine fabric, shivering at the softness over his skin and the fine embroidery; he wasn’t worth this! Even if Madara had burned the one before Tobirama, had hated it and the feeling of Madara’s gloved hands on his hips was something he guiltily relished (they were so big and warm and – no, bad Tobi, focus); he hadn’t needed to replace it. Tobirama shot a helpless look at his summons, fingers curling in the soft fabric and pulling it closer as his lower lip wobbled a bit; he didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to believe, didn’t know how to react to this and – Akira’s rough tongue rasped over his cheek as tears slipped free. “Don’t fight it cub, let your mate give you nice things and care abut you, try not to fight him on this; at least until you get a better understanding of what is going on, alright?” slowly Tobirama nodded, already worn out again as Akira examined his face and then nodded to herself. “Alright, I am going to go tell your brother you’re awake, try to fall asleep while I do it so you don’t have to deal with his flailing” Tobirama laughed silently at his summons grumbling as she slipped out the door, always bitter about interacting with Hashirama.

True to his summons words Tobirama slipped under and into sleep again before his brother returned, the thundering of Hashirama’s approaching footsteps blending into his dreams as he dropped further under; his chakra slow to recover with some of it still leaching off to the seal on Madara.

Madara stroked a finger down the fan he was planning to switch for Tobirama’s current fan; it was the best he could get on short order, ribs made of ebony and black mother of pearl and the fine red silk embroidered with hydrangea in matte red thread. Something that would look much like the one Tobirama had chosen for himself but was much nicer and more reflective of his worth – though not at nice as the wedding fan Madara was planning out in his head, turning to those plans and the new memory of his Center when the flashbacks (Silver-) tried to start to keep himself stable, he wasn’t willing to undo all of Tobirama’s hard work to heal his coils and pull on his Center’s chakra that way since he could still feel the chakra trickling in through the seal in the last two days since the disastrous first meeting (it was going to take a lot for Madara not to wreck this next one too, he was working on his rage at Hashirama who could have given Tobirama a proper fan and hadn't!).

The next meeting was set for three days from now as the last note said that Tobirama was finally awake; Madara was trying not to feel too bad about draining Tobirama so badly but with the word that had reached the Uchiha in the meantime he knew it wasn’t just him, dealing with half of the clan’s Elders would have been draining on its own. It was news that was splitting the Uchiha but Izuna and Kikiyo banding together to reinforce the narrative that is was admirable what Tobirama would do for his clan and to punish traitors the clan feeling was swaying in that direction mostly (though not amongst the Elders of the Uchiha). It was a difficult needle to threat to allow the reputation of the White Demon to continue and be seen as an asset while at the same time not allowing people like Yashiro and his lackeys to use his willingness to kill his own clan against him to sow distrust. A few pointed words from Madara about his Center being strong enough to withstand him was not surprising, and that it was only right that the one to make the judgment should carry out the sentence; that there was honor in that, had helped seemed to remind the clan that Tobirama was more than just a shinobi that would be wedding in (though he would be that too if Madara had his way), he was also Madara’s Center and without him the time when he lost control and nearly destroyed the compound would happen again.

All in all it was a bit of a mess but Madara was hoping to make a place that his Center could be happy to come to if he was willing to come with Madara (it still felt sacrilegious to think that after what he had done but Aki was right he had no right to chose who Tobirama cared about and call it anything like affection so if she was right and Tobirama wanted Madara, Madara he would get!) and part of that was making sure that his family was alright with it which led to – right on time Izuna knocked on the door and slipped his head in, smiling awkwardly at his older brother when he saw Madara and saying nothing about the fan the older Uchiha tucked into his sleeve. “What can I do for you Mada?” Izuna asked awkwardly, Madara sighed and waved his brother in and to sit across from him, “I know you have been sneaking out to the Senju compound- though don’t think I didn’t notice that you spend a lot of that time with Hashirama, I see you little brother- and I wanted to talk to you about it, do you think Tobirama would be willing to come here? Willing to leave his clan and come here? And would the clan be comfortable with that?”

Izuna shifted awkwardly at the pointing out of the time he spent with Hashirama, hiding his face in his mantle and muttering about being chased down and grabbed no matter what he wanted until Madara cleared his throat, then sighed and took a moment to think about it. “Tobirama, I don’t know, I think so but – he is very committed to helping his clan and brother and teaching his students, it would be hard. But then again he is very committed to you from what I have heard, so, I have no idea Madara. As for our clan….I think they would welcome your Center no matter who it is,” he licked his lips “honestly Mada, you really, really scared them the other day and they would do a lot to prevent that happening again. If you go Center-broke or feral….it won’t matter, nothing will.” Madara folded his hands in front of his face to hide his wince (he had known it was bad when he nearly lost it but – he hadn’t realized it had effected the clan so badly, he needed to work harder not to fall back into the flashbacks and ((Silver sh-no-star-sea-Green glowing hands landed on his face at the same time as Tobirama’s weight landed in his lap, warm and firm and calming as cool chakra poured through his veins and soft breath puff against his lips, counting the white lashes under kohl lines and feeling the flex of muscled thighs under his hand before he slid them up to grip the sharp hips)) yes, like that, try to think of the new memory when the first tried to capture him – he would never not regret that the first memory in his Sharingan would be one of blood and pain).

With an act of sheer will Madara forced himself to focus on the now and his brother again, turning something over in his head for a long moment, “And what do you think that the clan would think of a combined village?” he asked evenly. Izuna twitched, eyes widening “You still – I thought you just still wanted peace, I didn’t know you still dreamed of that.” he breathed, Madara shrugged a little dropping his hands and wishing for his pipe “Its clear to me that Hashirama and Tobirama never gave up on that idea, you’re the one that told me Tobirama still works on the plumbing plans. And I will admit that I never gave up completely on the idea, not when it would make our positions so much safer and stabilize things with the Daimyo; there is very good political reasons to do it and” he paused and smiled a little wryly, “it would be a way for my Center to have everything, of course I want that.”

Izuna grimaced, looking down at his hands and fiddling with his fingers for a long moment before puffing out a long slow breath, “It could be made to happen” he reluctantly agreed finally “for you Center and for the economic benefits if they were pushed.” He snorted a dry laugh “After all the Elders wouldn’t disagree with you with Tobirama in the family, that would be an advantage for sure” Madara could see the humor but couldn’t find any in it, not guessing how this had affected the way that Tobirama was seen by his clan and putting it together with the way none of them but his blood had seemed to want to come near him at the meeting. “So yes, the village could be made to happen, if that is what we are working towards, it will just be easier if we take it slower” Izuna said, already sounding tired.

Madara reached out and covered his little brother’s hand with his own, “Thank you Izu” he murmured, rolling his eyes when Izuna squeezed his hand once before immediately over reacting and yelping about Madara showing affection like it was some great shock. Clearly it had been too long since Izuna had taken a dip in the koi pond….

Chapter Text

Tobirama was getting ready to sleep, again, as he had been a lot since he had drawn the seal on Madara (he was going to see Madara again in two days in an entirely new kimono that was so soft!), the constant draw of chakra wearing at him; mostly because of the distance between them honestly, if he could get closer it would be easier but – through the link the seal created and his senses Tobirama felt a horrible spike in Madara’s chakra as his chakra churned and tried to fall back into the old pattern of pain. Gasping Tobirama shoved stabilizing chakra down the link, trying to keep him steady as Madara’s chakra wavered and fluctuated; hells, he wasn’t sure he could stabilize the Uchiha from here, he needed to be closer or to have Madara closer or – fuck, this was ridiculous and Tobirama was going to regret this but, Madara’s chakra spiked again and that was enough.

Scrambling Tobirama dug in his desk for a sleeping pill and tossed it back dry, immediately lying down and starting a jutsu he only half knew; the Kato Spirit Transformation Technique was something that Tobirama had seen performed by the small clan on the border with Lightning and though one of them had taught him some of it he had never finished learning it before his mission was over. Now he was leaning on it and his chakra that was linked with Madara’s to bring him closer and – it was a bit like a dream and Tobirama curled his astral body around Madara’s back, covering those bleeding eyes with his hands and pouring chakra into the older man. “Breathe Madara” he murmured into the Uchiha’s ear, lips brushing against the pale shell of his ear through his feathery hair “just breath, let me help you, I can take care of this, just breath.” Madara sucked in a deep shaking breath, whispering “Tobirama? You – how?” and the albino hummed, tweaking the flow of his chakra and washing away the renewed traces of thick tar on his coils. “A jutsu a learned from the Kato clan, bastardized I am afraid, and not one I can hold up for too long- it is….difficult- but enough to stabilize you. Madara what is the tar on your chakra? Have you been ingesting anything you don’t trust?”

“I – no, no the person who makes my food makes food for all the main clan and I trust her, I have for most of my life. What do you mean tar?” Tobirama shifted, leaning more of his weight into the Uchiha as he focused on the chakra flows under his hands, “Strange, I wonder if it is affecting Izuna as well, I will have to check. I don’t understand what it is or how it is getting in you but it is destabilizing your chakra coils, especially your eyes-“ “Tobirama” Madara breathed, freezing under Tobirama’s body “your voice” there was a long pause and then Tobirama laughed breathily, “Well, this is an astral projection, not my real body, I suppose it makes sense it wouldn’t transfer over; it’s a pity the jutsu is so hard for me to do” and he was already starting to feel the strain, his chakra shaking with the effort of holding the jutsu but Madara seemed stabilized and that was the most important thing. “I can’t hold it for much longer” he breathed, dropping his head to rest on Madara’s and letting the broad back take his weight and making a decision, “hold on for a little longer ok, just a little longer Madara” and the jutsu broke. Exhausted Tobirama immediately fell asleep, unaware of Madara clutching at the space his projection had filled with a whine and eyes filled with clear tears that slid down the Uchiha’s cheeks and dripped off his sharp jaw.

Tobirama woke late and still dizzy the next day to his cousin leaning over his bed, a worried pinch between her brows and her face tight with distress; still she helped him sit up and lean against his pillows before asking him any questions. “What happened? Did the Uchiha get worse? You slept most of the day away and now we’re wondering if we should put the meeting off a bit longer.” Tobirama licked his lips and considered it and then sighed and pulled out his fan from his sealed bracelet, focusing on his cousin to keep his still aching chakra from getting overwhelmed, (yes/unstable/needs more/meeting is a/go) he hesitated and then went on (will go with/Uchiha). “What!?” Touka yelped “no you are not! Tobi-“ Tobirama slashed the air with his fan (necessary/stabilize) he licked his lips (want to) he added shyly, anxiously flicking the old fan open and shut and ignoring the way it no longer shut correctly; so focused on Touka he shut out the rest of the signatures in the house (please cousin/you know/how he/feels/to me) and so he saw the moment that Touka thought about the time she had found Tobirama chakra drunk on Madara’s chakra in the garden and got the whole worry story about how he felt about Madara. But he missed the figure standing just beside his door, back flattened to the wall as Hashirama stared blankly at the floor, unable to forget the sight of the fan in his brother’s hand.

Hashirama stumbled back to his room, digging through a chest that he hadn’t touched since their father died and unearthing – it was a Tessen with silver metal ribs and gray fabric dyed with orang lilies (for vengeance) and without a thought Hashirama thumbed the hidden catch on the outer rib and the hidden blades snapped out with a nearly silent swish, tipping each rib with a curved, serrated blade and turning the thing into just about the last fan Hashirama would ever want (“Quenched in Uchiha blood son, literally! It should serve the clan well; like you will”). He had always – always thought that father just gave Tobirama a fan he hated like he had given Hashirama and Tobirama never carried it for that, or that his brother didn’t want to be in a relationship and was signifying that, but – father would never have given that fan to a son of his, he had too much pride. So how-? Why hadn’t it occurred to Hashirama before that the fan language would be a better way for his brother to speak than mission signs? Just because Hashirama didn’t use it – just because he had always known he couldn’t use a fan in wooing his spouse as he would marry out clan (even before he had been given something he hated he had known that) didn’t mean – but Hashirama had been so angry about all of this that he had just shoved it in the box with the rest of the things that father did to them that he couldn’t change and just promised himself that fans didn’t matter that much after all.

But. Tobi had seemed to have an easier time communicating with Touka since the beginning and Hashirama – it had never occurred to him that it was fans! Or that Tobi’s would be so…sad. Was that – was that really all Tobirama thought he was worth? If he had gotten his own fan why not get something nice?! Right. Like Tobi ever got himself anything nice. Literally the nicest thing he had that Hashirama knew about was the kimono Madara had sent him! Who else had seen it? How hard had Tobi been working to hide it from Hashirama? And Touka – who had given her, her fan? Her father had been dead by then right? So – kami, “How much you want to bet that Tobi gave Touka her fan too?” Hashirama asked the noddle-cat that was trying to slip in his window, watching the creature (summons almost certainly) freeze at the sight of the brutal fan spread over Hashirama’s lap, each rib with blade extended nearly as long as his arm.

“Kami how much of the clan feeling like they can’t talk to me has to do with me not paying attention to fans? I – I refuse to carry this one though, this abomination, I just-“ his voice cut off in a strangled choke and he buried his face in his hands. Trying to close the mental box where all of Butsuma’s things were. Soft fur brushing against his skin pulled him out of his thoughts to look at the white noddle-cat, sniffing and swallowing hard as he stroked the warm animal; “I never meant to fail him” Hashirama confided (and kami, this was not the person to confide in but who else did he have?) “I just…” he glanced at the fan in his lap and felt nausea rise. “I just couldn’t think about it, I couldn’t – what was I supposed to do? If I get angry….” He trailed off again and he shuddered, remembering one of the few times he was truly angry as a child. “If I get angry things get bad, and there was never anyone to talk to – I couldn't, I was the oldest, I couldn’t make things harder for Tobi, he already was doing so much with our brothers and our father’s expectations” he spat the last word and the noddle-cat chittered at him, sounding gentle.

“It was easier just to put things in boxes and not think about it, that just seemed best. Like a tree, just grow around it since I couldn’t – couldn’t make it better and I didn’t know what to do; I didn’t know I was only going to make it worse, I swear I didn’t know, I swear I didn’t know” and he was crying, great, agonizing sobs as he curled around the quiet noddle-cat; feeling like the sounds were clawing their way out of him and leaving him shredded in their wake.

It was a long time before the storm eased and every trap in his office could have triggered and he wouldn’t have noticed, and all the while the noddle-cat just sat and let him cry into its soft fur until the storm had passed and though he felt ripped open and broken he also felt…cleaner, like he could think about and maybe, maybe start to make this better. Maybe get a fan for himself for his clan’s sake and find the finest he could find for his little brother so he would never have to think he was only worth a broken bit of trash; he was already working on Tobirama’s clothes (all mission blacks, but that was all he wore!) and, and maybe it was time he ask his brother if he could see his Words again, after they came back from the meeting, maybe they could do that – at least then he would know what else he had done wrong.

Madara was waiting at the pavilion with the Uchiha well before the Senju arrived, preoccupied enough with his Center’s voice and the hoped for sight of him in the kimono Madara had sent that he wasn’t marking his brother’s unusual silence as much as he maybe should; only shooting Izuna a few confused glances at his lack of bitching. And then, the Senju arrived, Hashirama in the front with his customary smile and beside him, dressing in the same black hakama as before but this time paired with the gifted kimono and his fur ruff he looked like a kami come to earth to the smitten Madara. “Hashirama” he greeted, barely sparing his old friend a look and handshake before he was reaching for Tobirama’s hand, glad it was the same hand that had the sealed bracelet of wooden beads that Madara had seen him pull the fan from last time. It was no small trick to slip the new fan in the seal- especial with the almost shy look he was getting through frosty lashes distracting him- but Madara flared his chakra in greeting at the same time to hide the small flicker of chakra as he slipped the new fan in (not taking the old one as much as he would like to, it wasn’t his to take and Tobirama had risked enough in taking it, he wouldn’t spit on that), pleased when though a flicker of confusion passed over Tobirama’s face he didn’t seem to notice what was happening as Madara’s hands lingered long past politeness.

Finally the clearing of Touka Senju’s throat forced Madara to let go of his Center’s hand and take his seat on the other side of the table, watching as once again papers were pulled out and spread over the table. “Shall we discuss the treaty before we get to the explanations?” Hashirama asked, shooting a worried look at Madara but being more professional than he had last time to Madara’s relief. Silently the Uchiha clan head nodded, trying not to grit his teeth as every time a clarifying question went to Tobirama and he used mission signs Madara didn’t that had to be translated; luckily it was normally accompanied by a flicker in the albino’s chakra that Madara could more or less track which helped him not feel quite so cut off, but it still stung to have one of his worst fears (to be ignored, to be so disregarded that he was never answered) play out like this. He needed to figure out a way to understand his Center and fast or this was going to eat him alive.

Other than that it was going surprisingly smoothly until they got to the final page and Izuna froze after he flipped to it, staring for a long moment and then looking up slowly at Tobirama with shock written over his face. “Tobirama” he breathed and Madara slipped the paper out from under his hands to look at it and – there in slightly newer ink than the rest, ink so new it looked like it had smudged when the scroll was furled, was article 16, Tobirama Senju will accompany the Uchiha back to their compound in a gesture of good faith to insure the health and stability of the clan head. Though he is to be allowed to leave at any point should his clan have need of him. “What-?” Madara breathed, looking up at Tobirama and not fighting as Hashirama grabbed the paper out from under his fingers; Tobirama’s chakra flickered out, reassurance and determination in it as that red gaze dropped to the seal on Madara’s chest.

“Brother?” Hashirama whispered, turning eyes that could only be called wounded on his brother and Tobirama lifted his hands, clearly trying to explain something to Hashirama and failing until – Madara could almost see him give up and activate the seal on his wrist drawing out his fan and – and then freezing as he registered the change, the soft ebony and cool mother of pearl and crisp red silk. For a long moment he stared at it and then his eyes narrowed, that amazing mind going over everything that had happened and – landing on Madara who couldn’t have stopped his pleased smirk for all the wealth in the world; a smirk that turned to a fond smile when those slanted red eyes widened in surprise and something vulnerable and soft filled them for a long moment. (Neither of them bothered to notice Hashirama seeing the new fan and his confusion or the dawning understanding- that had been a long handshake- in his eyes, a mix of relief for his brother and bitter sorrow that this was no longer his to help with, something he could no longer mend.)

With a crisp snap the fan snapped open and flicked through a pattern of motions Madara didn’t know- but planned to learn- that seemed to make sense to the Senju, Touka translating with “He says that the chakra and seal he is using to keep you stable is hard to do over a distance and as we cannot ask Madara-sama to leave his clan it makes more sense for him to go with you and sustain the work that way until it can be healed fully.” Which made sense really and was also more than Madara had ever dreamed of, that his Center would come to him without Madara asking, even if he wished it was for better reasons.

“I feel like this is the part where we explain what has been going on” Izuna put in, Madara taking over, “But you will have to forgive me if I do not wish for everything to become public knowledge so, for the Elders of your clan; it is a phenome of the Sharingan that can lead to some instability but we know how to stabilize it and believe that Tobirama is more than capable of if he wishes. It is not permanent and not a threat – unless you try to keep Tobirama from doing what he wishes.” And yes that sounded like a bit of a threat, but Madara couldn’t help himself, not after what he had heard Tobirama had had to do in the clan. There was a pause and then Hashirama sent the Elders back to the compound with the guard, turning to Madara with a grave face, “Alright, now explain, what is going on?”

Chapter Text

Tobirama licked his lips, it felt like he was on the cusp of something that was going to change everything as Madara looked straight at him, “It’s a bit complicated I admit, but, for Uchiha with our Sharingan there is something called a Center; centering happens when an Uchiha meets the eyes of another person and they look back with their guard down – you know how they say the eyes are the window to the soul? There is truth in that because of the Tenketsu points behind the eyes, which in Uchiha are enlarged and, well, different, but there is a reason the Yamanaka jutsu use these Tenketsu points as well; the chakra and therefor the soul can be seen through the eyes in a unguarded gaze. This is what happens when an Uchiha Centers, it is when we look into the unguarded eyes and our chakra reaches out at the same time as the other reaches back – or is receptive at least, when this happens something in our Sharingan fundamentally changes.” “Hence the purple” Izuna interjected, watching them closely.

Madara nodded and went on, “When we call it Centering we mean that literally, in that moment the other person becomes the very real Center of our universe, the first memory that we recall, the one we dream of before all others, the memory that powers our Sharingan and the soul that most entrances us. Centered Uchiha are the most stable and safest of our clan and the least likely to fall to the power of the Sharingan and its call to revenge, but they are also the strongest and most dangerous of us as well, for if an Uchiha’s Center dies they can and will fall into madness, always. If the Center is even hurt it can trigger what we call being Center-feral and in those cases the Uchiha will do anything to destroy what hurt their Center and protect them.” Hashirama’s eyes widened and flicked from Madara to his brother “Being an Uchiha’s Center doesn’t mean anything other then, well, its best to avoid getting hurt; but it doesn’t happen if there’s not an openness there for the chakra to reach back to the Sharingan. Think of it as the Sharingan records everything we see as if it happened minutes ago, but sometimes the Sharingan looks into a pair of eyes and sees the most beautiful thing it can ever see and that becomes their Center, that one beautiful soul is the thing burned the deepest into our eyes for the rest of our lives no matter what else we see.”

Tobirama could only stare in confusion, very aware of the soft cloth against his skin and the fan in his hand and the attention Madara had paid him and – it all lead up to one thing; but surely – surely it couldn’t be Tobirama? Surely it would be someone better? Surely – “Tobirama,” Madara said, leaning forward and across his brother slightly to get closer “my eyes are proof, its you, look at the way they have changed; that was only after I looked you in the eyes on the battlefield.” His chakra twisted and his eyes spun into the Sharingan, the red and purple bright and definitive “the instability in my chakra is because I hurt you, my first memory of you is having hurt you and it – its driving me feral except there’s no one to hurt but myself and it…” “His chakra is trying to break” Izuna said, voice low and serious “we’re not asking you to do anything but you have the right to know what you are to Madara and to the clan and that if something happens to you it – what happened the other day at the compound will be child’s play.”

Tobirama couldn’t look away from Madara’s bright eyes, licking his and opening his mouth to speak before remembering – and watching Madara’s chakra twist, Mangekyō spinning as his chakra twisted and – hurriedly Tobirama stood and shot a look at to Izuna who scooted around the table to sit at the end as Tobirama sat next to Madara and laid a hand on his arm. Taking a deep breath Tobirama channeled his chakra to his eyes and cupped Madara’s face in his hands, turning the Uchiha to meet his gaze; and this time he could feel the Sharingan catching on the chakra in his gaze (oh, oh it was so like how Tobirama could feel a person’s soul through their chakra, in the right circumstance the Sharingan could see the shape of the soul in the pattern of chakra). “Oh” Madara breathed, staring at Tobirama, chakra reaching back for Tobirama and wrapping around him tightly enough the albino shivered with it; kami but he adored Madara’s chakra.

Izuna watched closely as Tobirama did – whatever he was doing to calm Madara and make Madara look like he was seeing the sunset for the first time, or breathing clean air after a life in smoke or – yeah, it was a hell of an expression. A nudge at his hip had Izuna glance down and he grinned, ducking his head to hide the expression in his collar as Iwoa scrambled around to Hashirama’s side and started pawing at the Senju head as he watched his brother with a mixed expression (it must hurt, all of this must hurt and seeing Madara give Tobirama a fan before Hashirama could make it right must hurt, Izuna had never expected to feel his heart ache for Hashirama fucking Senju but here he was). Out of the side of his vision Izuna watched Hashirama look down at Iwoa and brighten at the sight of the weasel, frowning as he saw what Iwoa was carrying. The fan wasn’t the nicest- Izuna hadn’t had time for that- but it was a hell of a lot better than that thing Izuna had seen on Hashirama’s lap; it was made with carved sandalwood ribs and the sage green silk was embroidered with a maple tree, it was a bit small for a man of Hashirama’s size but again – better than that atrocity of a tessen.

Hashirama’s jaw dropped and he stared at Iwoa for a moment at the weasel wiggled and then slowly reached down to pick up the fan (oops, Iwoa’s teeth had left scratches, oh well), staring at it like it was the most precious thing he had ever seen. A glance showed that Madara and Tobirama were still staring at each other, chakra flickering around them and Kikiyo and Touka were talking quietly- discussing the terms of Tobirama coming to the Uchiha clan it sounded like- so Izuna leaned a little closer to Hashirama, not looking at the big man as he muttered. “So what’s with your clan and the fans? Can you only have one or something?” Hashirama’s- who was clutching the fan to his chest and looking teary- jaw dropped but before he could respond whatever chakra-shenanigans their brothers had been doing seemed to be over as Madara reached out and stroked the side of Tobirama’s face with the back of his gloved fingers, “Oh you brilliant thing you, kami bless but you are beyond compare.” Oh lord, Madara was going to be a nightmare now wasn’t he with Tobirama with them, whimpering Izuna dropped his head to smack against the wood of the table. This was going to be insufferable.

Tobirama was flushed he was sure, he could feel the heat in his cheeks but he didn’t know what to do about it, just glad that he had stabilized Madara with less chakra this time – which did make him wonder, the rips in the Uchiha’s chakra coils could be his chakra fighting itself as could the instability but what about the tar? Was that connected to the Centering thing? Tobirama just didn’t see how it could be from the explanation he was given but how to ask?

“So Tobi is going to the Uchiha, fine, but he is coming back to visit us too – Uchiha-sama can come with him if he must, but I refuse to not see him for months, especially since you have no way to talk to him without him writing everything down, got it?” Touka’s voice cut through the quiet around them and Tobirama felt himself flush harder as his eyes snapped away from Madara and to her, but he nodded. Leaning against the corner of the table and closer to Hashirama than Tobirama had expected (well, they had spent a fair amount of time together hadn’t they, if summons time counted) Izuna coughed awkwardly, “Not that I am arguing Tobirama returning to the Senju with Mada sometimes but uh, we do have a way to talk to him.” he shifted awkwardly as they all looked at him and the Red Crane sipped her tea “The, uh, the Nara have a whole sign language; one of the main family was mute so they made one, you know how they are, and I may or may not have convinced a Nara to come teach all the Uchiha how to use it” Tobirama felt his eyes go wide with shock (doing his best to ignore the warmth of Madara now holding on to one of his hands and close enough he could feel the older man’s body heat) and Izuna flushed, hunching in his wide collar “well com’on! It wasn’t like he wasn’t going to come with us if Madara had his way and he has to talk to people! Besides, we all have the Sharingan, it’s not hard to learn something like that.”

Tobirama was…touched, he had never imagined that Izuna would do something like this for him, that anyone would do this but Izuna of all of them! He had been ready to go to a clan he couldn’t talk to, he had been ready to be isolated and alone and – but instead all he had to do was learn this Nara thing and he could talk to anyone!

“I’d like to learn that Senju fan langue of yours if you don’t mind sharing it” Madara offered, finally pulling his eyes away from his lovely- brilliant- Center to look at Hashirama, his conflicted feelings about the older Senju no doubt clear on his face but held back by the clear pain on Hashirama’s face and the way the man looked like he was doing his best not to cry – actually cry, not his usual dramatic blubbering. Trying to put a good face on something much darker and more painful and while Izuna hadn’t told him everything he heard when he went out with Iwoa Madara had heard enough to know that Hashirama hadn’t intended to deprive his brother and was not taking the revelations about the fact that he had done so through unintended neglect well. According to Izuna Butsuma had not left either of his children untouched and it had cooled a little of Madara’s rage at his old friend – not that he had much of a leg to stand on and he knew it, after all he was the reason Tobirama was mute.

“We – you can learn” Hashirama said softly, “I’d rather you kept it in the family but of course you can learn it to talk to Tobirama, I would never try to keep him from talking intentionally.” his eyes flicked to Tobirama on the last and Madara saw those lovely red eyes widen, a soundless puff of air slipping through thin lips as Tobirama slowly nodded, white brows pulling together as his brother smiled a watery smile. They would have to visit the Senju soon, they would have to stay with the Uchiha long enough to develop some faith in peace and Tobirama (and Madara’s stability with him) but then they would come back to the Senju and Madara would find a way to make the brothers have a long overdue conversation; one they clearly needed to have sooner rather than later. (And until then, Madara was fairly sure that Izuna would be keeping an eye on Hashirama through his summons.)

“So you still want to come back to the Uchiha?” Madara double checked with Tobirama, gently squeezing the hand in his hold to pull Tobirama’s attention back to him; the albino nodded firmly, eyes determined as he flicked his fan and Touka translated, “Sap- no, uh, paste? Pitch?” “Oh!” Madara breathed “tar, you mean the tar in my coils, I’d forgotten about that completely.” “What tar?” Izuna and Hashirama asked in concert and Tobirama sighed as he tapped Madara with his fan, chakra flickering as he asked the older man to explain, “Tobirama managed that Kato astral projection jutsu, I guess it would be night before yesterday, that time when I –“ “When you nearly lost it?” Izuna frowned “-yeah, that, he stabilized me with it and when he astral projects he can still talk, and he explained that there is something he called ‘tar’ in my coils. He asked if I had eaten anything I didn’t trust so I am guessing the tar was there when he first – stabilized me and that he cleared it out and it came back. So we have to look into that because that’s not related to the Centering as far as I know.” (Touka’s face darkened and she stared hard at her cousin as he avoided her gaze.)

Izuna frowned and exchanged a worried look with Kikiyo, “Yeah that is not good at all, do you want to check me?” he held out his hand to Tobirama and Madara couldn’t help the rush of pride in his brother who had grown so much to offer his hand to Tobirama. Reluctantly Madara let go of Tobirama’s hand so the albino could reach out and take Izuna’s hand, touching the Tenketsu points at his wrist and frowning; an expression that quickly got darker the longer the chakra exchange went on. Finally Tobirama’s drew back and Madara lunged forward and braced the slimmer man with his shoulder as Tobirama sagged, pale and drawn, “Tobirama, Tobirama” Madara breathed, trying to figure out if he was allowed to touch Tobirama more and then giving up and take one long hand again to channel chakra into him. Clearly exhausted Tobirama flickered his fan and once again Touka translated “He says he’s ok, just tired, he’ll have to clear Izuna’s coils later when he has more chakra.”  “It’s fine” Madara soothed, smoothing his other hand down Tobirama’s arm “if it hasn’t killed us yet it wont now, it can wait, you need to gather your strength; you’ve had to much chakra drain recently and you need to rest.”

Tobirama flushed and ducked his head slightly, his hand tightening around Madara’s where the older man was channeling chakra into him. He swayed slightly and leaned harder into Madara and Touka snorted, folding her arms over her chest, “Yeah, chakra drain from helping you through his summons and then dealing with the Elders and then stabilizing you and keeping you that way from a distance and I know that jutsu; its exhausting and draining, your going to take a while to bounce back from this one baby cousin” she snarled, Tobirama just smiled sleepily at her and some of her anger evaporated “and now you’re going to be chakra drunk on his chakra again.” She looked at Madara “He might get a bit cuddly with you, Tobi’s always had a thing for your chakra so he could get rather sleepy and high if you keep dumping it into him, not telling you to stop just fair warning before he’s wrapped around you.” Madara sent her an incredulous look “Do I look like I would mind that?” he asked, mostly distracted at the way Tobirama was cuddling closer, snuggling into Madara like one of his summons.

“I should take him back to the clan compound sooner rather than later, Hashirama will you send his things?” Madara asked, unceremoniously signing the peace treaty as he held Tobirama to his side with his other arm. Hashirama nodded, signing as well on the Uchiha copy, “Take good care of him, ok? Promise?” Madara met Hashirama’s eyes seriously and nodded, “Better than he has ever known” he promised, not regretting the wince that got even though Izuna shot him a sharp look for it. Hashirama bit his lip sharply but nodded, catching Tobirama's gaze and lifting the fan he had pulled out of nowhere (hadn't Izuna said - wait - Madara narrowed his eyes at his baby brother and Izuna stared firmly up at the roof of the pavilion), flickering it through a few motions that had Tobirama softening and smiling fondly at his brother as he repeated what must be a good-bye back at Hashirama with his own new fan, black and red bright against his pale skin.

Chapter Text

Tobirama was floating on a cushion of warmth like he had never felt before, Madara’s hot and dense chakra running through him leaving him feeling drunk and sleepy in a way he had never felt before. It was enough to have him leaning sleepily on the Uchiha the entire way back to the Uchiha compound, subconsciously trying to curl closer and nuzzling at that cloud of thick, feathery hair he so adored and letting his feet keep up from sheer practice and long years of running exhausted and at the end of his rope. The thick arm around his waist tightened and Madara’s chest rumbled with something he was saying to someone else that Tobirama didn’t bother to track, not when he could knot his fingers in the fabric of the Uchiha’s mantel under his montsuki haori and feel the shift of muscle as Madara ran under his fingers instead and bask in the warmth of the chakra running through him and the kindness of his brother pulling out a fan (surely not the one father had given him? Father didn’t do humble and it was too small too so where-?) just to say goodbye to Tobirama when he had never used the fans before (and why – why was that? it might not just be aversion to formality or a way to annoy father like he thought if the fan – ugh, too complicated to think about right now).

“Tobirama, Tobirama” the deep voice calling his name coaxed sleepy attention out of the albino though he refused to stop cuddling the strong-warm-fluffy and he nudged back with his chakra in response. “Tobirama we’re about to be in sight range of the compound and – you might not care right now but I am pretty sure you will care later that you look a little more, ah, attentive” that…that sound like no fun at all and Tobirama didn’t want to – and “-at least straighten up” Tobirama had no idea who had said it but he didn’t think it was strong-warm-fluffy which was good (he wanted them to be safe and those words weren’t safe) but the words worked like a switch; long ingrained training from Father snapping Tobirama to full inscrutable attention, not touching anyone or anything and face as cold as ice as he stared into the middle distance (hissed words when he was too tired from training to see straight “Straighten up Tobirama, don’t shame the clan”, snarled reprimands when his head was screaming from sensor overload or he was recovering from an injury or – always “Straighten up” in that cold voice and the hot-cold lick of pain if he wasn’t fast enough).

There was a long pause and Tobirama made sure to stand completely straight, folded arms hiding the shaking of his hands (why….why was he so tired again?) and people were talking around him but no one was talking to him (they never did, why talk to a blade, why converse with an attack dog?) so he did nothing but stand and wait to be told where to go, the world around him a blur. A hand landed on his lower back and Tobirama kept his muscles rigid to keep from flinching – except…this hand was different, broad and long fingered with bony knuckles and warm, so warm the heat traveled through Tobirama’s clothing as he was guided forward by the hand (firm and steady, but not…not perfunctory or impersonal). Automatically letting the world around him dissolve into a smear of color and sound, leaning on scent and his chakra sense to tell him more about the world and letting the hand do the leading while he kept his steps even and his face that perfect mix of remote but not arrogant that Father wanted around allies.

The scent of fire treated wood covered in pitch and an increase in sound, a deeper rumble next to him that he instinctively cocked his head at to try and hear better but still couldn’t pick out. The smell of dirt and smoke and people closing in around him and the warm person next to him shifting closer; hand sliding from his back around to almost his hip and he, he…liked? That? Food smells stronger and forge scent and hot glass and so much noise and then the ground was wood and he was being led through a door, automatically toeing off his sandals as he stepped into the entrance way and relaxing a bit as the sound-scent reduced with a door closing, there was only two people in the room with him now, and neither was speaking (and Tobirama couldn’t, couldn’t let go until he heard the right word, until-). Then they were speaking, tones worried even if the words still escaped him until “-its not like he needs to be dismissed” and Tobirama collapsed (Father’s curled lip, Father turning away, “Dismissed Tobirama”).

Only he didn’t hit the floor, someone caught him, a thick arm wrapping around his waist as his weight was shifted and lifted in someone’s arms and now that he wasn’t trying to hold it all together Tobirama could feel that lovely minkfurclovmagma chakra again and struggled to curl closer even as the chakra exhaustion made him ache. The chest holding his was vibrating with speech Tobirama had no chance of tracking and he pushed his chakra weakly against Madara’s to try and answer somehow. After a moment there was a shift and they were sitting on something and a little of Madara’s minkfurclovmagma chakra tricked into him again and Tobirama gasped, instantly twining closer to try and get more of that lovely warmth. Kami but it felt so good and he just wanted to wrap himself around Madara so tightly that warmth never left him and the big hands stroking his back and knee were only making the feeling stronger; it felt so good Tobirama knew if he still could he would have been purring (he missed that, in a different way from speech) and instead all the could do was cuddle closer and tangle his hands in that lovely, lovely hair, wanting closer even as exhaustion pulled at him ever more thickly (surely he was safe here? It was so warm).

Madara was fucking terrified. It was getting better now that Tobirama was back to being cuddly and chakra drunk- which, led to its own problems, Tobirama was a beautiful man on his lap pulling at his hair, some things were just going to happen- and clearly whatever had happened was over but that didn’t stop Madara from being very freaked out about whatever that was. Madara had been trying to help Tobirama disengage from him (he didn’t care but Tobirama might and that was more important) and at least walk through the compound on his own two legs and nothing had seemed to be getting through and Madara was getting ready to just carry him when Izuna said “Mada, he should at least straighten up, even if you are-“ but he had never finished the sentence because the second he said those words Tobirama had – what did you even call it? It was like a switch flipped and he had suddenly gone from chakra exhausted and cuddly to cold, aloof and strong enough looking Madara would have thought him fresh had he not known differently; and worst of all he had been completely disassociated, not responding to anything around him and even touch only made him stand straighter.

None of the Uchiha had known what to do with suddenly having a cool, aloof, unresponsive Tobirama on their hands and had landed on just taking him home and trying to fix it somewhere safe and it just – sure Tobirama had walked through the Uchiha with his dignity, looking in fact like a spirit walking through their compound untouched by anything around him, but he had also been shaking with fatigue only minutes ago and Madara didn’t understand what was happening or how to stop it and get him to relax. Even in the house with just Madara and Izuna- and Touka had said he liked Madara’s chakra right? (eternal flame Madara hoped so) so he should feel safe? Maybe?- still he had stood there like a soldier waiting for a dressing down not an exhausted person; at least until Izuna had stumbled on the right word (and, kami bless but that was some strong conditioning) and Tobirama went down like all his strings were cut. It was only Madara’s attentiveness that had allowed him to catch his Center before he hit the ground and pick him up and even Izuna had looked spooked at that point, retreating to make tea while Madara took Tobirama to a guest room and sat on one of the beds with him, trying suffusing him with chakra again to see if he could get the relaxation back.

It had worked but Tobirama was still unresponsive to speech, only the weak touch of his chakra telling Madara he was at all aware as he curled close as he could get to Madara; which was….wonderful and Madara wanted to just enjoy it, but it was so hard to stop thinking about the way his Center just, shut off. The disassociation and cold control scared Madara to the bone and he was deeply worried about what that was; was it conditioning? Brainwashing? Subliminal programing? Was it always happening or had Tobirama been weak to it because of his exhaustion? How did Madara fix this? They were no Yamanaka to untangle the mind and – “I can hear you thinking from here” Madara looked up at his brother standing in the door with a tea tray and a strange expression on his face – something between being awkward and admiring, like the little brother ‘ew’ at seeing him being affectionate with someone was crossed with something else Madara couldn’t pinpoint.

Izuna sighed deeply and brought the tray in, sitting on the end of the bed and setting it between then but making no noise about Madara moving Tobirama off him even though the Senju had passed out (though with the way his hands were tangled in Madara’s hair he wasn’t sure he could move, even it he wanted to – which he didn’t). “Drink” the younger Uchiha said pouring “and stop freaking out, I think –“ he poked at his tea and sighed “-I don’t think it’s anything as bad as you’re thinking – at least not the way you’re thinking. I’ve fought Tobirama for years and if there was any of that I would have noticed, what I have noticed; both in fighting him and in listening to talk in the Senju compound, is that Butsuma was a special kind of horrible. I think it was a conditioned response he was weak to out of exhaustion, something his asshole father would have demanded a lot no matter his condition and he just-“ “Just got used to responding to it” Madara finished, clutching his Center a little tighter “so when he was so tired he fell back on old patterns.”

Izuna nodded, “That’s my guess at least, Madara, those Senju are just….so screwed up. Hashirama is a mess, like a disaster, it’s a miracle he hasn’t imploded really or gone a lot worse and Tobirama…” he trailed off and waved a hand at the albino on Madara’s lap, looking sympathetic when Madara clutched him a little closer. “With their up bringing we are fucking lucky we didn’t get another Butsuma” Madara murmured, resting his chin on the white head ad Izuna snorted, sound a bit bitter “No instead we just have two very powerful and intelligent shinobi that are also abused, neglected, and traumatized with no support but summons – which by the way, Hashirama doesn’t have. I mean, dad wasn’t perfect and there’s certainly things about the way we were raised I would change if I could, but…for war time and compared to Butsuma….” “He looks pretty good?” Madara offer dryly, shaking his head as much as he could “how about we do better than both of them if there are ever kids, yeah?”

Izuna snorted, tossing back the last of his tea and nodding, “Deal, now I am going to go face the clan and you are going to take a nap with your Center; don’t argue, it doesn’t look like you have any way out of that hold anyway.” At that Madara had to laugh slightly, wiggling into a more comfortable position with Tobirama tucked up close to him and honestly feeling better than he had in a long time; finally feeling the good parts or having Centered now that his Center was with him and had almost managed to overwrite the traumatizing first memory as the deepest by his trick at the river. Only a genius like Tobirama would hear Centering explained and realize that pulling chakra to his own eyes and then meeting Madara’s might reestablish the connection so strongly that it nearly overwrote the first memory. Not that that memory was gone, but his chakra was no longer trying to rip itself apart and he wasn’t having flashbacks so for now it was working even if they had to redo it sometimes to keep the secondary memory on top Madara was just looking forward to sleeping without dreaming of cutting his Center’s throat (and glad to be able to think of it without sending himself into a flashback).

Chapter Text

Tobirama woke slowly and recently, swimming up out of a dream - Madara’s hand on his lower back as Tobirama sat on his lap, hands tangled in that luscious hair and head tipped back as the Uchiha’s full mouth brushed feather light down the line of his throat, hot breath puffing against his collar bone as the muscled chest under Tobirama’s hands flexed and – to the feel of deep warmth curled tightly around him; it made him feel lazy and slow, like a contented cat and Tobirama flexed his hands where they were tangled in the Uchiha’s dark hair, stretching like his summons and feeling Madara’s chakra rise as the older man woke next to him (under him?). This was quite possibly the best way Tobirama had ever woken and he – wait, kami his brain was moving slow today, to feel Madara’s chakra this much he must be – a firm hand skated down his back and Madara grumbled sleepily into Tobirama’s ear where the albino was sprawled out over him and instantly Tobirama felt his cheeks flush. How long had he been sleeping like this and – oh blessed stars with the way he had been holding Madara’s hair the older man probably couldn’t get free at all and even if Tobirama was his Center that didn’t mean Madara wanted to spend who knows how long with Tobirama curled into him like a cat on catnip!

“I can feel you starting to over think To’ra” Madara rumbled underneath him, voice deepened deliciously with sleep “don’t worry about it, we both needed the sleep and I sleep better with you here; I really don’t know how to make it clear to you that you are welcome anywhere with me. As far as I am concerned there isn’t boundaries, certainly not physical ones, not between us; you are my Center, my everything. You get to choose what you want this to be” the Uchiha promised, hand stroking feather light down Tobirama’s back and firming when the albino forced himself to let the touch feel good, to accept the comfort and pleasure of that broad warm hand. Forced himself the way he had forced himself to accept the kimono and take on faith that Centering worked the way they said even when his old habits screamed that it couldn’t be true; that things never went this well for him without a cost and he was never put first – except that was exactly what Madara promised, and Tobirama had agreed with Akira to let him so he had to try.

Slowly, inch by inch, Tobirama relaxed further into the comfort of Madara and his warm chakra, the scent of fragrant smoke and some oil he must use in his hair (labdanum maybe?), the comforting confident way he touched Tobirama like it was safe to do so (even Hashirama often touched like he was worried he would cut his hands on Tobirama and it hurt). “There we go” Madara purred “that’s better To’ra, no need to stress here.” Trying to trust it Tobirama curled a touch closer, turning over the odd name for a moment before giving up and tapping his fingers to Madara’s chest to tap out his question in Morse code how.long.?. Madara hummed and shifted, looking around apparently as Tobirama slowly felt out his coils and sensory range. “At least twelve hours, maybe closer to fifteen given the sealing scroll on the table must be from Hashirama. I don’t know abut you but I could use a wash, you ready to get up or need more sleep?” Tobirama thought about it but, ugh, he did want to wash now that he was aware how long it had been, so he tapped out clean.now.eat.rest.later. on the firm muscle, doing everything he could to ignore the feeling as any reaction would be very obvious at this point given how they were pressed together.

Madara groaned but agreed, stabilizing Tobirama and helping the albino off him and to sitting up on his bed, his hands lingering a little more than they needed to Tobirama thought (hoped). “Com’on, bathroom is this way” still tried but no longer dead on his feet Tobirama grabbed the sealing scroll and followed Madara, more than pleased to see that the Uchiha did have running water and personal showers though unlike the Senju they still had a communal bath for soaking. It was with reluctance that Tobirama saw the man out and peeled himself out of his clothes, washing quickly with the bath things his brother had sent as they were easier on his skin before slathering himslef in his sun oil and pulling out a set of blacks to wear, glad to go back to the turtleneck rather than the nin-wraps around his throat which rubbed somewhat. It was only after he had put them on and was strapping down the pants at his shins that Tobirama noticed, these weren’t his clothes; oh they were made to his size and style and preference but the fabric was finer than anything he had worn but the kimono Madara had given him.

Shocked Tobirama retreated to the room he had slept in and pulled out all the clothes his brother had sent, all blacks like he always wore and all brand new out of the finest softest fabric he had touched other than the kimono. Fabric that wouldn’t hurt his skin, his brother finally making good on the promise of their childhood to save him from the pain his condition left him in; even this little bit of it.

“Tobirama are you ready we should – To’ra! What’s wrong?” Madara’s voice jolted Tobirama out of his thoughts and he realized with some shame that his eyes must be shinning with unshed tears (Hashirama had finally remembered, cared). Wordlessly he held up the shirt and Madara frowned at it touching it and the frowning more until Tobirama took his hand and slowly tapped out new.soft. and his face gentled, deep set eyes warming as he looked at Tobirama, “Well its about time, I’m glad Hashirama is remembering what it means to be a big brother” he said, making Tobirama tsk at him with his tongue pleased at the surprised expression. He still had a few sounds he could make, he just didn’t normally bother with anyone but his students; Madara laughed, holding out a hand to help Tobirama up and continuing to hold his hand long after he could have let go.

Madara was in heaven, his Center was here and accepting Madara’s touch and presence around him with far more grace and comfort than he had anticipated (Touka hadn’t been lying when she said he liked Madara’s chakra then, that was just…no one liked Madara’s chakra, it was too much, too hot and too dense and too consuming; no one but Tobirama who seemed to actually bask in it and Madara just – couldn’t handle how that made him feel), Tobirama was here with him and Madara couldn’t be happier even if Tobirama was still badly in need of some care and attention, the Uchiha could do that, Madara could do that. It was part of why at breakfast he gently pushed a little more food at his Center than the man was taking on his own, pleased when though Tobirama looked confused he didn’t fight Madara on it (was he – was he going to let Madara take care of him? The one thing that Madara wanted to do more than anything else and that his loved ones so often fought him on because they were grown shinobi? And Tobirama was just…letting him?!) and tried to eat more until he looked slightly ill at the idea of more food and Madara backed off instantly, pleased at the grateful brush of chakra curling around his calves like cool surf.

“So” Izuna stared, pushing his plate away and looking at Tobirama- they had already introduced the Senju to the retired kunoichi that helped look after the house, Mayumi eyeing him up but only bowing in the end so she must not hate him- “I know this is awkward but I really don’t think we can put it off, yesterday when we were coming back something happened and-“ Tobirama stiffened, his chakra curling around him like a waiting snake and he held up a hand to stop Izuna, clearly thinking something through before he pulled out a notebook from the wooden beads he wore and started writing in it, doing so for a few minutes before pushing it where they could see it. Conditioning, not anything subliminal, Father was….demanding. It only works now if I am already very tired and there are only two triggers, one of which you just managed to stumble on; it was a way to give Father what he wanted no matter my condition. Though I don’t think it was intentional on his part – at least at first.

Deep in Madara something relaxed even as his chakra churned at the idea of anyone hurting his Center enough to create that conditioning. Izuna nodded and leaned back, tearing out the paper and setting it on fire with a quick katon- that was information that didn’t need to get out- as Madara turned back to Tobirama and offered to spend the morning meeting the Nara that was teaching the sign language and starting on that before he had to meet the Elders after dinner. The idea of new knowledge brightened Tobirama and he nodded eagerly, Madara happily following his Center out after pulling his brother into a tight side hug and kissing the top of his head in an unusually demonstrative motion, muttering “You did good little brother” into Izuna’s ear before following his center out.

Izuna watched his brother and Tobirama leave with mixed feelings, glad that they were so happy and falling into orbit around each other so easily but….the conditioning still worried him and he knew he wasn’t the only one. At the Shrine to Amaterasu, Kikiyo was waiting for him, the nin-miko not around at this time of day so they had the place to themselves; this one most sacred place Izuna would trust even over the clan head’s house to be safe. The wind made the bells chime softly and the wafting, prickling scent of the white incense that always burned at the alter- that he and Madara relit at the end of every week- lent the place an air of timelessness that calmed Izuna somewhat. If he was safe anywhere he was safe here in his kami’s embrace. The ritual of paying his obeisance to Amaterasu was further centering and Izuna sent up a prayer that seeing Tobirama today interacting with Madara in a clearly affectionate way would counter act those that had taken Tobirama’s apparent aloofness against him when he first arrived; many would take it as dignity and respect it but there would be those that wouldn’t take it well that Madara’s Center hadn’t seemed affectionate, hopefully seeing them today would help as they learned from Sho Nara with the gaggle of children that were working with the Nara (and yes, the addition of the children was planned, Izuna had tracked how good Tobirama was with kids and was definitely going to use it).

“Cousin” Izuna sat up on his heels as Kikiyo sat next to him, tucking her kimono neatly around her as she too bowed to the statue of the kami, incense billowing with the movement. “Kikiyo, what is the word in the clan?” Izuna asked quietly the Red Crane sighed slowly, blowing out a breath; “Some are not impressed with him looking so cold but it is split, most are waiting to come to their own conclusions after they see him more – the usual factions are kicking up a fuss and trying to spin this but its not too bad yet. Of the Elders that were with us Kasai would never speak of something like that, it goes against his honor, and Tonica is speaking well of Tobirama’s affection for Madara, Aunt Chiaki….I can’t tell, she could go either way and we will have to hope Yashiro doesn’t win her over.” Izuna winced at that, that, that would be bad. They might not often acknowledge their shared blood with Elder Yashiro publicly but it was there and the man had too much power for a former child hunter and someone who would take the clan if he could.

“Izuna, is it likely to happen again?” Kikiyo asked lowly, her eyes worried as she met his gaze and he sighed slowly, glancing reflexively at the deep shadows at the back of the shrine before he answered “I don’t know, it’s conditioning from his father and he says there is only two triggers and even those only work in special circumstances. So, no, I don’t think so and even if it does I don’t think it could be weaponized except to make him look bad.” Kikiyo sat back slightly, looking relived, “Could be worse then, at least he and Madara-sama look far to sweet together, that will help more than anything; seeing Madara-sama looking well and stable will do more than anything else could to firm his position here.” Izuna hummed in agreement, bowing to the kami again and standing to go find (spy on) his brother and letting Kikiyo speak to the kami alone. As she bowed, brow pressed to the stone for a long moment, the shadows uncurled and two eyes like blank coins winked in the dark for a moment before vanishing.

Chapter Text

Tobirama was as happy as he could remember being, he was learning something new, Madara was plastered to his side and there were a gaggle of children gathered around him and Sho Nara learning. It was literally the best day he had ever had and Madara didn’t even have to be here! His Sharingan having already recorded all of the signs he only needed to work on the signs and even those were easy with the hand signs shinobi used on a regular basis; the only real reason he could have to stay and stay pressed so close was to be around Tobirama which was….kind of blowing his mind really. One of the children pulled at his sleeve and Tobirama turned to look at Kagami, the small Uchiha staring at him with wide dark eyes as is small fingers clumsily shaped signs, sounding them out as he did them “Tora-sensei” because the sign they used for Tobirama was a mix of the sign for tiger and the sign for white after Sho heard Madara call Tobirama To’ra. “can…I….see….water?” Kagami finished and Tobirama laughed silently, ruffling the curly hair and forming chakra to make sleek little tigers and birds out of water to fly around the children’s heads.

That rather thoroughly disrupted the lesson and Sho sigh, watching the glittering animals and smoothing a hand over his own jaw length spiky hair, his dark eyes and small goatee making him look rather typical for his clan even if he seemed to have more energy than the usual Nara given how long he had been teaching them for. “Guess we can take a break” he muttered “troublesome…” he slanted a look at Madara “at least you Uchiha are good students and you are living up to your reputation Tobirama-sama – even if some of your old mission signs are making this interesting.” And yeah, interesting was one way of putting it, some of the Senju mission signs had meaning that directly conflicted with the Nara signs and though Tobirama’s memory was near photographic it wasn’t quite and he had slipped a few times, signing things that made the poor Nara splutter (entertaining for a Nara) with miscommunications.

Next to Tobirama Madara snorted, his arm behind the albino’s waist moving an inch closer to just wrapping around it as he eyed the Nara, “Interesting can be a good thing” the Uchiha purred “and we’ll get there, it will just take some time, already Tobirama can track most of it and sign the basics and I think that’s damned impressive.” Tobirama ducked his head, inching closer to Madara, not quite sure what to make of the defense even if it wasn’t needed – kami if this was what being an Uchiha Center was then Tobirama was shocked it wasn’t something everyone wanted. “Tora-sensei!” a loud yell proceeded Kagami throwing himself into Tobirama’s lap, a water dragon curled around his arm “look! Look! I caught it!” Tobirama smiled slightly at the child, aware his eyes must be very fond to the passing Uchiha (of which there was more than was needed, clearly the clan was still feeling him out) as he reached out and touched the dragon, turning the dragon into ice curled around the child’s arm. Kagami gasped, jaw dropping as he stared at the shining ice creature and in his ear Madara inhaled sharply, his eyes bright and impressed when Tobirama glanced at him.

“To’ra…” the Uchiha breathed, giving up and wrapping his arm around Tobirama’s waist to the albino’s pleasure; Tobirama curled a little closer to Madara, running his fingers through Kagami’s hair and pressing into the Uchiha. But his little moment of peace was broken when a loud voice called out “Madara” pause “-sama” and Tobirama’s stomach dropped at the sight of the man; he knew this man, he knew Yashiro Uchiha all too well (knew what his chakra felt like as he hunted and killed Itama, knew that rottingwood-chokingsmoke-stalenutmeg and hated it, had hated it since Yashiro was the only person of that child killing squad that escaped Tobirama that day and the first to call him Demon – it was only his love of Madara that stayed his hand from killing the man in that moment, tired or not). “It is…good to see you in such good spirits after so long in seclusion” the words were slimy and Madara stiffened against Tobirama, his dark eyes sparking as Yashiro’s eyes flicked over Tobirama with visible disgust, his sumo style hair fluttering a little in the wind.

Behind him two young men stood, one with longer, jaw length hair in a lighter color than the usual Uchiha black and the other with short spiky cut hair and rounder eyes than Madara’s lovely almond. “Yire, the younger one with longer hair and Hiderou is the other one, two of Elder Yashiro’s favorite flunkies.” Madara murmured into Tobirama’s ear, sensing where he was looking before he turned to face his kin, “Elder Yashiro, how unusual to see you outside of your home or the Elders meeting hall” Madara snarked back “I have been blessed to have my Center agree to join me here and show the faith the Senju are placing in the signed peace treaty.” Yashiro flushed unpleasantly at the faint emphasis and his angry eyes flicked back to Tobirama, “Yes” he snarled “your Center” it was all but spat “the Senju Demon that has killed how many of our kin?”

Tobirama noticed with unease that they had gathered a crowed and he gently pushed Kagami to Sho, letting the Nara melt back into the crowd with the child as the Senju slowly stood with Madara, watching as the Uchiha’s eyes spun into the Sharingan, still backed with electric violet and now with the addition of thin red rings instead of black (was it a good thing that the amount of red and violet kept changing?). “What did you just say?” Madara hissed, clearly enraged as he stepped forward and – Tobirama reached out and set a hand on Madara’s arm, stopping him as the albino fixed the Elder with an evaluating stare. “To’ra” Madara murmured, shifting to see him as Tobirama curled his chakra around him and focused intently; doing this was difficult and slow and normally a waste of energy and focus but sometimes a point needed to be made.

Slowly water coalesced around Tobirama, freezing over in a few places as it formed careful shapes in front of him, words hanging in the air and making the Elder pale at the show of power, And how many of my kin have you killed Elder, or do you think I no longer remember what squad you were on? Then Tobirama waved a hand, rearranging the water But these are peace times and I am here with Madara, my loadstone, to see him well and the peace strong. Surely that is something all can work towards. The words hung for another moment and then disintegrated into mist, Tobirama leaning pointedly into Madara and the arm that the Uchiha wrapped around his waist, making it look like he was making a point and not like he needed the support for a moment as he refocused. Yashiro had flushed a blotchy unpleasant color and behind him Hiderou looked discomfited even as Yire went red with anger and murmurs passed through the gathered Uchiha.

Madara smirked and his eyes flashed for a moment before he let them fade to black again, his point about his center shaded eyes made and the threat handled, “If there is nothing else you wished to speak about Elder I think it is time I made sure my Center eats, I have to take care of him after all, like any good Uchiha would with a Center.” if Madara’s voice was smug and pleased Tobirama wasn’t going to remark on it, after all it was time to eat and he had no interest in being around this man longer than he had too. Yashiro shook his head and stormed off with clear anger and Madara tugged Tobirama closer, tucking his face into the albino’s neck for a moment as his chakra bubbled with amusement and pride. “Come on, lets eat and you can show me some of that fan language” Madara prompted and Tobirama nodded, not moving away as they walked back to the house; the sooner Madara had a way to understand him the sooner Tobirama could start looking into the tar in his and Izuna’s coils, especially since Tobirama had checked and all of the children had the same contamination if in much smaller amounts.

Madara watched Tobirama flick his fan precisely and write down the meaning, he had been signing meanings when he could but that wouldn’t always work as he didn’t know all the Nara signs yet but Madara didn’t care. Carefully he opened his own fan, a plainer thing of ebony and cobalt blue silk that Madara had purchased when he realized it was a language. It wasn’t nearly as nice as the wedding fan that Madara was making Tobirama but in order to work on that he would have to leave Tobirama and that was not at the top of Madara’s list even if he could see that Tobirama really needed a nap (and Madara, Madara needed to look into Tobirama’s words to Yashiro, he didn’t – he didn’t want confirmation of what he thought was going on because if it was true and he couldn’t let Tobirama just kill the fucker Madara was going to feel awful honestly).

A lick of chakra flicked out and curled around Madara, pulling his attention to something that Tobirama had written down, Madara, the tar, it is in the children as well as Izuna. In much smaller quantities yes but it is still there and its not good; it destabilizes your chakra and makes you susceptible to certain things. I want to cleanse the clan even if I can’t find the source, doing so would be very tiering but worth it for the clan. Madara’s stomach dropped, kami he had nearly forgotten about that; but it was in the whole clan? Hells, that… “Let me look into it a little first, I want to look into what could be causing it, I’d rather keep you from spending so much energy only to have to do it again. I – will you take a nap this afternoon? I can tell you’re very tired and I can look into this while you sleep. Please?” Tobirama hesitated and Madara reached out with his chakra, trying to share his pleading feelings and relived when the touch was enough and Tobirama’s spine relaxed a bit as he nodded, fan flicking (I will/sleep/you-) and then he hesitated and Madara cocked his head before Tobirama huffed a sharp breath and stood to round the table, kneeling next to Madara facing him and hesitantly cupping his face.

Madara shivered at the touch of the cool hands on his skin and leaned into the touch, eyes half closing and relishing the contact and the look of the warm red eyes. Green glowing fingers passed under his eyes and the soft tingle of healing chakra curled through him and Madara hummed pleasantly, breath hitching when Tobirama brushed away his fringe and leaned forward to press a feather light kiss to Madara’s brow; pulling back with lingering touch and standing to vanish upstairs as Madara sat there, overflowing with joy at the unsolicited affection from his Center, from Tobirama.

Madara sat for a long time just enjoying it before he stood and went to find his cousin, Hikaku was in the healing hall talking with the head healer and after a moment he waved his cousin to join him as he walked to the glass-blowers. “Yashiro” Madara said and Hikaku grimaced, “Yeah, he was on the child killing squads. He…Madara he used to brag that he killed one of Butsuma’s sons and from a little poking he returned alone from his mission and was the first one to call Tobirama-sama ‘Demon’ so. There’s that.” fuck, that was exactly what Madara had feared except worse (had Tobirama seen it? He had clearly killed the squad – which, how old would he have been? Kami, that…) and there wasn’t any way that Madara could make this better for Tobirama as much as he wanted to offer him his head on a platter. “Alright, if you can make it known to the clan…” Hikaku nodded, silently “also, something is contaminating the clan chakra, I need to see the full records of all the foodstuff and where is comes from and send someone you trust to check the water sources, maybe with one of the nin-miko from the shrine. I have to think about what else the entire clan is exposed to that could be contaminating us while I work.”

Hikaku nodded and slipped away as Madara stepped into the glass studio, greeting the craftsmen and going to the area that was set aside for him; stripping off his shirt and mantle and tying on a heavy leather apron and heavier longer gloves after tying back his hair loosely, as he did whenever he worked with glass. A blast of katon lit the fires and Madara picked up the first two ribs he had finished, which were thin as senbon and shaped out of chakra-conductive glass with a dragon formed out of flacked gold in the glass of both ribs together with a glinting chips of ruby for eyes, the third and fourth ribs were a swirling phoenix out of white gold and also with ruby eyes, today he was going to make a tiger out of silver with stripes of glinting powdered obsidian and ruby eyes (they would all have ruby eyes, just like Tobirama) – it seemed fitting after the name the children had given his Center today.

Setting out to organize his materials Madara considered the question of the contaminant, what could be so ubiquitous that the entire clan would be exposed to it? Even the food didn’t make sense unless it was the rice because what else would every household interact with? Rice, water (but there were several sources of water for the clan), something in the soaps the washers used? Most of the clan got soap from the same seller but – hells, not Kagami’s mother, he had sensitive skin (hmm, he would have to check and make sure that their soap wouldn’t hurt Tobirama) and Tobirama had said all the children had it. What else did they all interact with every day? The scent of heating glass soothed the agitation growing in Madara’s chest at the thought that something was infiltrating his clan like this and he would never have known were it not for Tobirama.

His Center truly was a miracle, Madara thought admiringly as he spun out glass, sweat slipping down his spine; miraculous and beautiful and – Madara was not expecting or needing anything physical out of his relationship with Tobirama. He delighted in the touch his Center was willing to give him, the cuddling and affection feeding an empty hole Madara hadn’t even been aware of; but he couldn’t pretend that he wouldn’t like to have something more with the stunning albino, to have the blood heating dreams that he kept having (last night’s had been wonderful, Madara’s hand on Tobirama’s lower back as he sat on Madara’s lap, those lovely hands tangled in his hair pulling deliciously, Tobirama’s head tipped back as the Uchiha’s mouth brushed feather light down the line of his throat, hot breath puffing against the sharp collar bone as Madara’s muscles contracted under the hands that dropped to his chest. Tobirama shuddered as Madara smoothed his hands lower and set his mouth to that long elegant throat and waking had been a disappointment). He didn’t need sex, he could make do with his own hand and be perfectly happy but, Tobirama cuddled close to him and Madara had seen those unique red irises blow sometimes when Madara’s voice dropped particularly low or Madara demonstrated his strength (maybe he needed to find a way to get Tobirama to come by the glass studio?) and it was making him think that maybe….

But thinking about that wasn’t helping him make any progress on the problem with the clan and Madara should focus on that as that was what Tobirama would be worried about for a while for sure. The Uchiha sighed a bit and let his mind fall into the soft focus that worked best when he was working with glass (he was going to do Kirin after a tiger he thought), turning thoughts and questions over in his head as he worked and not noticing the time slipping by as he finished ribs and moved on to the next ones until a soft knock on the support beam pulled his attention; Madara finishing his task and then glancing over at his brother waiting for him smirking. “Sometime I am going to send Tobirama to come get you while you are working brother, just to see him gape” Izuna said with a naughty smirk, Madara rolling his eyes as he picked up and towel and wiped at the sweat on his brow and bared skin twisting his hair up into a messy knot and stabbing some glass rods through it. “You’d be doing me a favor if you did” Madara snarked back “just remember that you live in the same house we do.” and the music of Izuna’s groans filled the air as Madara stripped the apron off and put his shirt back on though he left his mantle off. Hopefully Tobirama would like the change in look.

Chapter Text

Tobirama liked the change in look, he had been told when he woke that Madara was at the glass studio and been given his own study to work out of, but he hadn’t considered how that would change what Madara looked like and now…. the shirt clung to the muscles of Madara’s chest and the wide v-neck showed off a tempting slice of creamy skin as much as the strong neck was exposed by his messily tied up hair held up with twisted rods of deep blue and gold glass. The look was….damn, Tobirama was not strong enough for this, not when he could see the edges of Madara’s defined pecs and – no, bad Tobirama, focus on what was in front of you! With difficulty he forced himself to think about the revised Uzumaki treaty he had sent to his brother before dinner, hopefully this one would – oh no, Madara was coming closer and Tobirama could smell hot glass and smoke on him and he wanted to lick him, if only Madara also wanted….even the kiss on his brow Tobirama had given hime earlier had taken all his courage to hope Madara would like it (luckily if his chakra was anything to go by he had so that way ok).

“Did you sleep well To’ra?” Madara rumbled, one gloved hand curling around Tobirama’s hip like he wasn’t quite aware of doing it (but kami Tobirama was aware of it), a little dazed Tobirama nodded, forcing his eyes away from the slice of exposed skin. “Good, its always better to face the Elders with energy rather than tired, let me go clean up and we can eat quickly before we have to deal with them” Madara told him, shifting closer and smoothing his hand up Tobirama’s side before he pulled away and wandered up the stairs, the albino immediately distracted at the thought of the meeting with the Elders (Ysahiro…), the consideration enough to distract him all through a fast dinner (Madara once again back in his normal clothing, pity for the visual but better for Tobirama’s focus). The three that had come to the treaty signing had seemed nice enough but Tobirama wasn’t willing to trust a first impression like that without further information; this meeting would be a good time for him to get a feel for what the council was like, he just wished he had something a little more formal to wear to it to firm up his position – “Here” warmth settled over his shoulders and Tobirama glanced at Madara as the Uchiha drew back, his indigo montsuki haori draped over Tobirama’s shoulders in a very clear claim.

It was strange having the Uchiha uchiwa between his shoulders but Tobirama just flickered his chakra in thanks, he felt better with proof of his place in the clan and something a little more formal than just his blacks. “Come on, the Elders don’t like to be kept waiting.” Madara set a hand at Tobirama’s lower back (a favorite place it seemed) and led the way out to a circular hut close to the shrine to Amaterasu (a hut with an uncanny resemblance to the Senju’s building with the same purpose, how strange that they should be so similar; maybe there was more to they myth of the two clans coming from the same progenitor – though that was supposed to be the mythical Sage of Six Paths so who knew). “There are ten Elders, three of which I would trust to back me no matter what, one of which is a true neutral and the others…well, you know Yashiro already and he has a few toadies on the council that don’t like how I run things. I will be very interested to hear your views on them after the meeting” Madara told him, low voiced as they approached the hut and strowed in without knocking, Madara immediately taking the slightly raised seat across from the door for the clan head, his mouth pinching a bit at the sight of no seat for Tobirama who ignored it and settled himslef on the arm of Madara’s seat, gaze hooded over the gathered Elders (at least they were all here on time).

Closest to the door would be the most junior of the Elders and closest to Madara would be the ones with the most power so it was no surprise that Yashiro- who was old and of the main family blood if only barely- sat on Madara’s immediate left, it was the woman that sat on his right and closer to Tobirama that had his attention. She was old but of an indeterminate age, with a powerful chakra that had the specific spin that Tobirama associated with Mangekyō and made her the oldest user of the evolved Sharingan that the albino had seen; she had fine white hair swept into a high tail and a close fitting kunoichi’s yukata with an intricate obi that was the only alleviation of the stark black and white she wore, on her face was an expression of true neutrality like she felt above everything that happened here and she was, Tobirama was sure, a powerful figure in the clan. Next to him Madara curled his arm around Tobirama’s waist and breathed “Yamatohime” so lowly no one but Tobirama could have heard it and he covered the Uchiha’s gloved hand with his, flicking his chakra in thanks.

Next to her sat an Elder with neatly tied bandaged over his eyes indicating blindness who’s chakra reached out toward the world like seeking fingers, trying to fill in for his missing sense even though Tobirama doubted he was a sensor. Next to the blind Elder sat one of the ones that had come to the treaty meetings (Kasai maybe?) who nodded formally at Tobirama, looking approving of his place at Madara’s side, his hair slicked back from his face. Next to him was a woman with unusually short hair that was cropped tight in the back but longer in the front, lovely skin and a thoughtful look. Closest to the door on the right was another male Elder with an indecisive face and chakra, Tobirama was willing to bet he bent with the wind of power and wasn’t a fan of Tobirama but liked that it made Madara stronger.

The left side was more interesting, starting with Yashiro who had the expression of a man smelling a days old corpse when he looked at Tobirama and was leaning close to the man sitting next to him with a bad close-cropped haircut and a similar disgusted expression. However next to them was another of the elders that had come to the treaty meeting (Tonica, she had been very quiet but watchful, her long unbound hair hiding her face often) and she smiled a touch at how Madara and he were sitting. One her other side was the third Elder that had come to the meeting, (Chiaki, related to Madara somehow Tobirama thought) her hair in a set of braided loops and her face inscrutable but she looked less than thrilled with how Tobirama had chosen to sit (the lack of formality maybe?). The last Elder and the one closest to the door on the left was a beautiful woman with mid-length hair half pinned up and an ugly expression on her face; she was no fan of them Tobirama was more than willing to bet and the anger in her chakra was backed with avarice of the kind that had she been younger he would have thought she wanted Madara for herself.

Over all a very interesting grouping and one Tobirama was already evaluating (he had cleansed a clan once, he could do it again if they threatened Madara and forced him, he wondered if they were thinking about that), glad that he was here to watch Madara’s back with this group. Madara’s hand on his hip squeezed gently but he took another moment to let the silence stretch painfully before speaking, “Thank you for gathering honorable Elders” a nod to Yamatohime made it clear who he meant with that, and Tonica smirked a bit at that though she hid the expression in her hair. “It is my great honor and joy to present to you my Center, Tobirama Senju who-“ “Yes, yes” Tobirama’s eyebrows flew up as Madara was interrupted by the Elder sitting next to Yashiro, he of the bad haircut,  “we all know the White Demon, I think we are all more interested in knowing exactly how you intend to control him here in the compound to keep the clan safe!”

For a moment after the man spoke there was a heavy silence and many unimpressed eyes turned to the Elder as Madara’s chakra rose slowly through the room like low lying smoke and his eyes spun almost lazily straight to the Mangekyō. “Did you just ask me how I intend to control my Center Elder Masaru?” Madara purred, his hand tight on Tobirama’s hip as the albino watched it all with a cool, aloof look, trying not to show how lovely he found Madara’s chakra even when it was dense with near killing intent (luckily he had lots of practice from Father with not showing things). “I-“ the Elder stumbled, pale with the rising chakra and the malevolent glow of Madara’s eyes lighting the room and Tobirama looked away from the confrontation (Madara could eat that man in his sleep) more interested in the reactions of the others. Most were pale with the heavy, searing chakra and Kasai looked approving (Tobirama liked him already) where as the one next to the door on the right looked terrified (not great) but most interestingly Yamatohime was staring at Madara’s eyes with slightly widened eyes, her mouth just a touch open and her cold remoteness broken by the sight of them.

Tobirama shifted and caught her eye, making sure she could feel the curl of his chilly chakra around her, just in case her interest in his eyes was worrying, a little surprised when she looked as interested in him as in Madara and it was her voice that broke the stand off. “Centering successfully and stably is no small thing, it is something to be revered in the clan and treated with all due respect.” The woman said in a cool, whispery voice that still managed to fill the entire hut and cut through the tension, apparently appeasing Madara as he controlled his chakra again, though he didn’t turn off his Sharingan and the glow it cast over his face made him appear eldritch and strange and powerful (Tobirama wondered if he kissed those eyelids would he taste the power of those shinning eyes?) (Tobirama needed to focus). “Elder Yamatohime is correct, I have been given the blessed gift of a Center who accepts me and stands beside me, any who think to spit of that or him spit on Amaterasu herself and all that she has gifted our clan. This is the first sign of a new age Elders and I will not fail to head Amaterasu’s signs simply because it has never been done before. The clan has been gracious and welcoming to my Center, which is something I expect to see continue” his chakra rose suddenly out of nowhere in a suffocating wave and the threat was clear as all the Elders but Yamatohime doubled over, treat Tobirama well or face a Center-feral Madara out for your blood.

“Is there anything else?” Madara asked coolly, looking around at the Elders, poor Takao was all but fainting next to the door on the right and next to him Shigeko was wide eyed and pale, her asymmetrical hair a little ruffled. Kasai looked pale but approving (it would suit his honor to have Madara defend his Center) and under the blindfold Kuragari looked a touch smug (unsurprising he had weathered Madara’s chakra better than most). Yamatohime looked considering but considering that he was used to her looking a bit disapproving of Madara ever since she was teaching him and Izuna the legends of the clan he was calling that improvement. Yashiro looked angry and next to him Masaru looked both afraid and livid (not a great combination), but Tonica looked pleased if pale. Chiaki…very pale and a bit scared, not good. And Yumi by the door looked as unpleasant as always. A mixed bag to be sure but considering Masaru’s comment that was the best that could be hoped for at this point.

In response to his question Tonica brought up a few questions about trade with the Senju and how soon it would start but it was clear that their hearts weren’t in it and that they really just either wanted to flee or to go away and gossip about him and Tobirama and Madara didn’t bother to try and hold their attention long, dismissing the meeting early and making a note to make sure there was a seat for Tobirama next to him next time; not that he expected his Center to attend every meeting but he should have a place should he want one damnit! As the Elders trickled out Madara took note of who bowed shallowly to Tobirama as well as Madara, a little surprised to see Yamatohime had lingered in front of them, staring at Madara’s eyes for a long moment before she bowed to both of them, more deeply than she had ever given him before as clan head and then swept out.

There was a pause and then Tobirama pulled out his fan flicking (why/do I feel/she knows/something/we don’t), it took Madara a second to translate it but with context cues and what he had memorized he could put it together and huffed a laugh, tightening his arm around Tobirama’s wait and a little surprised but delighted when the albino slipped straight into his lap. “She probably does, Yamatohime is the oldest person in our clan to have the Mangekyō and not have gone blind from it, she knows its secrets better than anyone; if anyone would know something about Center-shaded eyes the rest of us don’t it would be her.” Madara muttered, honestly paying more attention to the warm weight in his lap and the way Tobirama warily curled into him like a big cat approaching a new bed, snuggling close when Madara only wrapped his arms around the lithe form. (Tell me/Elders/skfskff) Madara missed the last word but he could guess, “Tell you who they are?” a nod and Madara put his mouth right next to pale ear so they wouldn’t be over heard “Well starting from the right there was Takao by the door, he is fear driven for sure, next to him with the odd haircut was Shigeko, she keeps her own council but can be very traditional about politics so its hard to say with her. Kasai is very attached to honor and he is firmly behind me, Kuragari- the blind one- was one of my teachers as a child before the Sharingan blinded him. Yamatohime is…complicated. Yashiro is an asshole. Masaru next to him follows his every whim, Tonica is a good sport and has stood with me since I took the headship, Chiaki…hard to say, I would like her to stand with me but she is swayable if scared or, well, she’s a bit gullible. Yumi is crazy” Tobirama shook with silent laughter at that and to Madara’s joy clicked his tongue at the Uchiha in reproval.

“What! She is!” Madara muttered, hiding his smile in the wild white hair; he loved that Tobirama was starting to make more noises, something the Uchiha was guessing he didn’t do unless he was feeling safe and comfortable. “I am serious, she tried to seduce me and showed up naked in my bed when I was sixteen and never got over me kicking her out instead of sleeping with her” he said, laughter in his voice until Tobirama stiffened, his chakra snapping out in anger as he whipped around to look at Madara, eyes wide and livid. “To’ra, it wasn’t-“ but he couldn’t finish because Tobirama hissed at him, flat out hissed like an angry cat, his chakra snarling around him with rage as he pressed one finger to Madara’s mouth, the Uchiha dutifully going silent as Tobirama pulled out his notebook and wrote for a moment, holding up And if that had happened to Izuna? Instantly rage flickered through Madara at the thought of a more powerful woman trying to force his brother into sex and he felt himself pale. “Oh.” he breath, feeling a little ill.

“I-“ cool hands brushed over his face, stroking back his fringe and petting his face, gentle and soothing as Madara’s perspective suddenly shifted “I guess I never though of it like that.” he muttered, leaning heavily into his Center for comfort and trying to wrap his head around it and the way that Tobirama’s churning chakra was telling him Yumi was going to be in for a world of hurt one way or another. Softly Tobirama chirred at him with his tongue and Madara dragged him closer, pushing the past away to bask in this moment in the quiet hut as outside the rain started, skies opening and weeping in the dark of the night.

Chapter Text

Tobirama was working at his desk while Madara was the glass studio when he felt it, the presence of new chakra signatures racing through Fire from the coast, what-? Those felt like Uzumaki signatures but what where they doing in Fire and headed for the Senju? Had the new documents that Tobirama sent Hashirama finally broken the deadlock the Senju and the Uzumaki had fallen into or had they heard about the new peace with the Uchiha which should have made the Senju even more valuable than they had been before. They had fallen into the deadlock in part because the Senju clan was diminishing and growing smaller even as it grew more wealthy and though they were sister clans the Senju had been losing the power that the Uzumaki so needed in mainland allies to keep the other clans off their back, especially the ever hungry clans of Water; all of this not helped by the fact that Butsuma as a man and his policies had never sat well with the leader of Uzushio Enkai Uzumaki, the Red Typhoon.

Things had been strained when Butsuma died under….unclear circumstances and Enkai had taken the opportunity to call off the marriage alliance with the Uzumaki at the time though he hadn’t completely shut down diplomatic ties. At the time Hashirama had been thrilled, romantic that he was at heart, but in the end it hadn’t taken long for the Elders to point out that the Uzumaki still needed mainland ties and if it wasn’t the Senju who could it be? Not to mention the loss of the trade routs and goods at that point when the clan had been so weak from Butsuma’s single-minded pursuit of war with the Uchiha. In the end Hashirama had been working to convince Enkai of their trustworthiness and power since their Father’s death and the man had hardly budged, his only concession being not going after other allies in an overt manner; so for them to be moving now and so strongly as to be sending someone from the main Uzumaki line to see Hashirama themselves, that was worrying indeed and not something Tobirama was sure he could allow his brother to face on his own. He might have to ask Madara if they could go back to the Senju sooner than he had hoped; after all it had only been a week and a half that they had been here but – Hashirama needed him.

Biting his lip sharply Tobirama stood and left his study, treatise on Uchiha ration open on the desk behind him, and went to find his – find Madara (Madara wasn’t his, as enticing as it was to think he might be after all the touching and closeness that the Uchiha granted Tobirama). In tearoom Izuna was sitting reading through something with a dark frown on his face when Tobirama clicked his tongue to get the other man’s attention, signing Star-burning? to Izuna, the sign that had been given to Madara he was told as much as he was tiger-white. Izuna blinked at him for a moment and then opened his mouth and then shut it with a snap, “At the glass blowers, I’ll go get him, I need to talk to someone there anyway” he answered “what’s up?” Tobirama pulled a bit of a face and signed Tree-clan needs me, hmm, what to call the Uzumaki whirl-red approaching the compound, Izuna tsked grimacing. “Crap, things were just starting to get stable here too” he must have seen Tobirama’s expression as he waved a hand  “no, no, it’s fine, you can go help your brother for a week and nothing should fall apart here I just would have liked a little more time to get the clan more used to having you around but there’s nothing to be done. We’ll be fine, go help Hashirama just come back as soon as you can safely please.”

Tobirama nodded, relived that it wouldn’t be too much of a problem, and headed up stairs to pack for a week, including a few of the haori and one of the two yukata that Madara kept slipping him, especially the ones with fur collars and mantles that were is favorites (and all of them in soft fabrics and rich colors that Tobirama loved, as much as he loved the small uchiwa that were embroidered in discreet places on the fabric). It would be good to see Hashirama, Tobirama had been missing his brother since he left even if he had been enjoying his time with the Uchiha; especially since Hashirama had given him new clothing and giving Tobirama hope they might be able to repair the distance in their relationship. It was….hard, things had gotten so confused between him and his brother and the trust between them was so fractured and strained that at this point Tobirama just felt like he didn’t even – frustrated Tobirama dropped to sit on the bed and buried his face in his hands. How did they even fix everything after all this time? When Hashirama had just rejected him and stopped reading his Words and stopped seeing him.

A warm hand landed on the back of Tobirama’s neck and squeezed gently and almost automatically Tobirama tipped to the side and leaned against Madara as the older man sat next to him, sagging into the Uchiha’s strength. “Hey” Madara murmured, cupping the back of his neck and leaning his face into Tobirama’s hair “its going to be ok, I’ll help. I won’t let things get bad” Tobirama huffed a silent, damp laugh, trust Madara to know what was bothering him at least in the big picture just from the feel of his chakra; it was honestly a bit uncanny and Tobirama adored it, he felt so heard even when he could no longer speak. Tobirama dropped a hand to Madara’s knee, tapping out thank.you. in morse code and pressing closer for a long moment, basking in the warm presence of this man he so adored.

“You ready to go?” Madara asked eventually, hand tightening at Tobirama’s nape (kami, he really liked that) before releasing and letting go entirely as Tobirama nodded and reluctantly sat up straight again, “ok, I’ll go grab some things, do I need diplomatic clothing?” Tobirama nodded and dug out a sealing scroll for Madara, who sighed but nodded “alright, I’ll meet you downstairs To’ra, do you want to send a summons to warn Hashirama?” Tobirama nodded again and gathered his things, heading down stairs and sending one of his leopards out to warn Hashirama they were on their way and why. Izuna stood near the door, leaning his shoulder on the doorway and watching Tobirama, “I’ll ask my summons to spread out through the compound and see if I can find anything about the tar and how it is contaminating us, they are small enough to not be noticed” coming down the stairs in full armor Madara nodded “Izuna-“ the younger Uchiha held up a hand “I can do the changing of the incense alone Madara, the clan will live with it and Amaterasu would understand” he promised and Tobirama felt a lurch of guilt at taking Madara with him again but said nothing as dark eyes landed on him (Madara was getting far too good at feeling his chakra).

“Tobirama…you know it is more for my sake to go with you, not pandering to you – but even if it were it would still be worth it” Madara said lowly and Tobirama puffed a sigh, taking the hand that was held out to him and standing. Izuna shook his head with a wry smile, “Yeah, I am not dealing with my brother without you Tobirama” he snarked gently “you have to take him ‘cuse I’m not keeping him” and at that Tobirama’s expression did lighten as Madara grumbled about throwing him in the koi pond- a ritual Tobirama had seen more than once by now-. “Com’on lets get out of here before he says something I really do have to throw him in the pond for” Madara grumbled, hand on Tobirama’s back as they left though he paused to exchange a long look with the younger Uchiha before they set out, running out into the last of the afternoon light.

Madara was very glad that Tobirama had sent a summons ahead by the time they hit the Senju gates given that it was only a few hours off of midnight by the time they made it. At the Gate the guards looked unnerved but did nothing to stop Tobirama and Madara’s entrance or keep them from heading in the direction of the main house; what Madara didn’t like very much was the way that the Senju looked at Tobirama, the way they bowed and showed all due deference but also stepped back and out of his way, parting in front of him like water to suiton. “To’ra” Madara murmured, feeling the deep stillness of his Center’s chakra and Tobirama shot him a look, his cold eyes warming as he looked at Madara and signed It’s fine, after everything I expect it. The children are different. which, well, was something at least even if Madara would much rather Tobirama not be so isolated in his own clan.

Then Touka stepped out of the shadows, looking shocked to see Tobirama but delighted as she grabbed him into a tight hug, “Welcome back little cousin, but” she pulled back, holding his shoulders and scanning him and then Madara “why are you here?” It was Madara who answered, waving to her to walk with them to the main house as he spoke, “To’ra felt Uzumaki approaching fast, they should be here tomorrow, and didn’t want to leave Hashirama on his own to handle them since we don’t know what they want.” Touka sent Tobirama a look at the shortening of his name but said nothing about it when he just met her gaze evenly and shifted a bit closer to Madara to his pleasure. Further conversation was interrupted as they had reached the main house and Hashirama darted out to grab his brother in a tight embrace; Madara felt his Center’s chakra flinch and curled his own around Tobirama in a soothing brush, trying to gentle his beloved and ease the touch before Hashirama took the flinch the wrong way. “Gentle” Madara snarked at his old friend “I just found him don’t break him on me” Hashirama looked at him over his brother’s shoulder and must have seen the seriousness in Madara’s eyes as his hold visibly gentled and Tobirama clearly relaxed when it did, leaning into his brother more.

“Inside you great oaf” Touka grumbled, pushing at her cousins and leading the way into the surprisingly traditional and sparse house (had they not redecorated after Butsuma’s death?) and to the tea room where half-drunk cold tea gave away what Hashirama had been doing since he got word. Touka sighed and rolled her eyes, grabbing the tea pot and vanishing further in the house as Madara unstrapped his armor and piled it in a corner, “Not that I’m not thrilled to see you- because I am- but your summons was very spars on information on why you’re back so soon, are you ok? Are the Uchiha treating you right? Are-“ at the overflow of questions Tobirama tsked sharply, only to freeze as he realized what he had done and stiffened, looking away from his brother like he was expecting to be chastised; something that seemed to break Hashirama’s heart if the look on his face was anything to go by. Madara sighed and sat next to his Center, stroking down Tobirama’s back and curling his chakra around the albino as Hashirama visibly gathered himself and grabbed a silk wrapped bundle that was next to his teacup.

“I was going to wait to do this – but, well,” he held it out to Tobirama who frowned and took it with the careful hands of someone that had rarely gotten gifts, unwrapping the pale blue silk and sucking in a shocked breath when the contents were revealed. It was a fan, made of finely twisting blackwood that had almost certainly been grown by Hashirama looking at the grain, and pale silver silk dyed with a pattern of swirling waves in a dozen shades of blues and greens. “I know – I know I’m a bit late, I didn’t mean to be, its just that the one father gave me was so horrible that I thought you just didn’t want to use yours like me; not that you didn’t have one, I swear if I had known – but Izuna pointed out that there’s nothing that says that we can only have one fan and if anyone should have several wonderful ones to choose from it’s you.” Hashirama spat it all out in a rush like he was afraid his brother would throw the fan back in his face and Madara inched closer to his Center to support him as Tobirama stared at the fan, seeming struck dumb.

“Now is not the time” Madara said to fill the silence “but later we are going to talk about that fan your father gave you and clear the air about this Hashirama, but for now…” he trailed off and looked at Tobirama who let out a shuddering breath and flicked the fan open, signaling (thank you/big brother) with over bright eyes that had Hashirama perking right up especially when the albino plucked at his shirt and flicked the fan through thanks again. Further discussion of it was stopped by Touka’s return with fresh tea and she shot the fan an approving look as she sat, “So Uzumaki on their way?” the Senju kunoichi prompted and Tobirama nodded, eyes drying as he flicked his fan (at least one of the main blood/how did/treaty go?) and Hashirama sucked in a surprised breath.

“Uzumaki coming here? There was no warning of that in our last correspondence – though it has been going much better with your revisions Tobirama them sending a party is just strange, especially if one of them is Enkai’s blood. Kami, I’m glad you’re here, thank you for coming brother, I know it can’t have been the easiest thing to leave the Uchiha just as you were settling in.” Hashirama looked stressed at the idea of the Uzumaki making an unannounced visit and Madara was very glad they had made the run to get here in time. “Blast” Touka muttered, tossing back her tea “I wanted to grill you about how it is going with the Uchiha and that you are being treated right but if the Uzumaki are getting here tomorrow we need all the rest we can get” she pointed sharply at them, from one to another “you are not off the hook though, this is your only warning. Now go to bed and try to get some sleep before our visitors show up” and that was something that none of them could argue with given how late it already was and Madara reluctantly let his Center vanish into his old room, trying not to be too upset his own guest room was so far away, it was just luck that allowed him to be so close to Tobirama’s room in the Uchiha house.

Sighing Madara turned to follow Hashirama back to the guest room, stopping the slightly taller man before he could retreat and holding his gaze seriously “I meant what I said earlier Hashirama, we will be talking about your father and what he did to the two of you; it’s the only way to clear the air and fix your relationship and I told Tobirama I would help with that so I blood well will.” Hashirama swallowed and quailed a little, shrinking in on himself but nodding and not fighting before he turned away to retreat to his room; which was unsatisfying but, well, Madara could choose his battles and he knew this one wasn’t the place- or time- to fight.

Chapter Text

Tobirama woke early and dressed well but not like he was expecting visitors in his blacks and one of the haori that Madara had had made for him out of Uchiha scarlet patterned with waves, eating breakfast distracted as he tracked the Uzumaki but relived to see Madara again and instinctively leaning into the older man without really thinking about what it would look like to his brother who was watching with sharp eyes. (At the gate) Tobirama announced with his new fan (kami he had a new fan, one from his brother and clan head that he could officially use to court! Tobirama had never thought to have that), letting himslef sag petulantly into Madara for a moment before standing as a runner raced in the direction of the house and starting the tea that they would need as Hashirama left, glad his brother had aired the receiving room earlier that morning. Madara’s arm snaked around his waist for a moment and squeezed firmly as he came up behind the albino, the Uchiha pressing his lips to Tobirama’s hair “It’ll be fine, we have the upper hand with them showing up out of the blue like this; your brother will do fine.” Tobirama nodded and loaded up at tea tray, feeling Hashirama’s stress from the front of the house as he met the Uzumaki there and led the way to the tearoom.

Sighing Tobirama turned, gathering his courage to brush his mouth over Madara’s jaw in thanks as he picked up the tray and started in the direction of the tearoom, Madara a few stuttering steps behind him. At the door stood a short Uzumaki with short red-hair, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared across at Ryoma guarding the other side of the door; the Senju guard straightened and bowed shallowly to Tobirama and more deeply to Madara to Tobirama’s pleasure, the Uzumaki notably didn’t do more than nod to them and in flash of temper that Tobirama had long thought he had mastered Tobirama flicked his chakra out and curled it around the man’s blood, just enough for him to feel it and blow his eyes wide. Then a hand landed on his lower back and Madara moved up behind him, murmuring, “That’s enough To’ra, let him go, he’s not worth it.” and reluctantly Tobirama let go of his hold on the man’s blood and let his lip curl, his sharp Hatake teeth flashing as Ryoma opened the door for them and let them into the tearoom.

In the room Mito fucking Uzumaki was sitting across from Hashirama, flanked on wither side by another of her clan and one of the Kōraru clan- obvious by the long blue-green hair and rich dark skin- with a fifth member of their group leaning against the wall behind her, one of the Kintsugi clan if the tawny hair, skin, and eyes were anything to go by (that clan did make Tobirama watchful, their skill with Jujutsu was always worrying). Across from them there was Hashirama, Touka leaning against the wall behind him with hard eyes but otherwise brother was alone except for the sprays of sakura that was blooming out of season in the vases in the corners or the room, a threat the Uzumaki didn’t know Hashirama well enough to spot at the moment. It made Tobirama’s simmering anger burn higher and though when he had met Mito Uzumaki in the past he had liked her this made it very hard to keep doing that.

Behind him Madara hummed a low, rumbling note that resonated louder than is should and sauntered further into the room, Tobirama sweeping in at his side as the Uzushio party snapped around to look at them and all but Mito paled a few shades, no doubt at the sight of Tobirama and the Uchiha clan head (the corners of Mito’s lips curled up slightly and she ducked her head hide behind a folding fan, hiding the expression). “Hashirama” Madara greeted deeply “sorry to keep you waiting, the tea wasn’t ready since the guests were so unexpected” the jab landed if the way the Uzumaki next to Mito flushed was anything to go by and Madara sat neatly Tobirama tucked between the two strongest nin in the five countries as they stared over the table to the Uzushio contingent, numbers even now but power heavily unbalanced, Madara and Hashirama working together could wipe the floor with them even with Mito’s undoubtable skill.

“Perhaps introductions are in order” Madara continued, covering Tobirama’s hand where it landed on his knee under the table and rubbing the back with a gloved thumb, the Uchiha sprawled out rather then bothering to sit more properly; the lack of respect clear and pointed. “Since the Uchiha have never had much to do with Uzushio after all.” There was a pause and Mito smiled demurely at them, looking pleased and gesturing gracefully at the Uzumaki next to her, her long red hair in a rope braid “My cousin Yuina Uzumaki, on my other side is Kazuhiko Kōraru, behind us is Sara Kintsugi and my kinsmen at the door is Oshan Uzumaki. I am Mito Uzumaki, daughter of Uzushio” i.e. daughter of Enkai Uzumaki, who was Uzushio.

Madara smiled diplomatically at her, knives hidden in his expression, “I am Madara Uchiha, you know Hashirama of course, and this is Tobirama Senju, heir to the Senju and my Center. Behind us is Touka Senju, cousin to the main line” Madara rumbled, Mito blinked catlike at him as Hashirama watched them interact with wide eyes, “How convenient that you were here when we arrived given the new alliance between the Senju and the Uchiha” Madara smirked back at her but then her eyes flicked to Tobirama and the albino felt his Uchiha tense slightly “something that Tobirama has something to do with I assume given his place and title?” there was something about the curl of her smile that made Tobirama stiffen and beside him Madara bristled, the Uchiha’s lips pulling back and his eyes flicking to purple-red in an instant, menace pouring off him and making the Uzu nin pale and twitch for weapons.

On Tobirama’s other side Hashirama had stiffened and the sakura branches rustled as his mokuton rose, his killing intent curling under Madara’s like roots creeping under smoke; “What exactly are you implying Uzumaki-hime?” Hashirama asked grimly, face uncompromising. Mito’s eyes widened and she raised her hands, looking alarmed “I – nothing Senju-sama, I assure you. We meant no offence to Tobirama, I swear,” she grimaced slightly, looking contrite “its just that we don’t understand the title that Uchiha-sama gave to him and what it means, that is all. And – you must admit it is odd to have him placed between you, I was merely fishing for information, I give you my word.” And she truly looked contrite about it, eyes flicking to Madara and the branches warily; it was enough that given he had met her before Tobirama was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt and he reached out to touch his brother’s arm, flickering his chakra around Madara and turning the hand on his knee to hold the Uchiha’s hand.

Hashirama met his gaze and sighed but his chakra subsided and a moment later Madara’s Sharingan flicked off, the Uchiha snorting and relaxing as he turned his attention Tobirama, “To be an Uchiha’s Center is exactly what it sounds like Uzumaki-hime” Madara said, talking more to Tobirama than to Mito “I am lucky enough to have a shinobi like Tobirama as mine, of course he would be placed in a place of importance – besides, Hashirama and I would only fight over who gets to sit next to him or look more important, this is easier.” Hashirama laughed boisterously, leaning into his brother and breaking the tension with the ease Tobirama had always envied; “That is true! We would fight over my cute brother for certain!” Hashirama laughed, cooing over Tobirama as the albino rolled his eyes until the Uzushio nin relaxed and their hands slipped away from their weapons.

Madara smirked as he watched Tobirama bear his brother’s cooing and fussing with much eye rolling but not fighting it otherwise, admittedly impressed with Hashirama’s skill at defusing the tension in a room as the brother’s went through a clearly well-known routine. “I do have to ask Uzumaki-hime, why have you showed up unannounced and unexpected?” Madara asked after the tension was defused and the Kōraru stopped looking like he was about to attack something, smiling as Tobirama served tea with chakra with nothing more than twitches of his fingers, his control making the Uzu nin tense again. Mito smiled at them again, small but clearly relived as she picked up her tea, “I was sent by my father to negotiate further after the last treaty revisions were sent and new of the peace with Uchiha reached Uzushio. We miss the days of our closer relationship with the Senju and hope to work to returning to it.” in other words, Madara thought from what Tobirama had passed on, the Uzu nin had been sent in to surprise test the Senju and see if they were strong enough to be allies for the Uzumaki again.

The whole situation was a mess that Madara was thoroughly unimpressed with, had it been him he would have been hard pressed to even want to keep such fair weather friends; and maybe that wasn’t fair to Uzu and them having to do what was needed to protect their clan and wanting to get away from Butsuma’s policies, but still. Madara had never been a forgiving man and this was not the time that would change, especially since they were so refusing to treat the Senju like equals by showing up without notice. Hashirama seemed to be taking much less offence than Madara or even Tobirama and he and Mito were working their way through the pleasantries and around to what Mito actually wanted which seemed to be to stay in the Senju compound and negotiate for the Uzumaki and – “-if things come around the correct way perhaps we will come back to the original terms of the Senju-Uzumaki alliance.” Mito said diplomatically and something complicated flashed over Hashirama’s face before it settled into lines that seemed almost resigned if well-hidden as he responded, “You know of course that should that be the treaty we settle on the Senju clan would welcome you into the clan Uzumaki-hime.”

Wait. What? Madara’s eyes snapped to Tobirama and the look on his eyes was tired, but he tapped old.treaty.marriage.arranged. on Madara’s hand and the Uchiha’s heart dropped (Izuna…), oh Hashirama that was….why had he even agreed to that? Hashirama was a romantic in every sense of the word, why would he-? later. Tobirama tapped and Madara sighed silently, squeezing his Center’s hand, and feeling slightly sick as the negotiations continued. Tobirama twitching once in a while with the need to say something but holding his peace; probably tucking them away in his head to tell Hashirama about later knowing him. Still Madara said nothing and sipped his tea as they talked, unsurprised when it was agreed that the Uzu nin would be staying in the guest house in the gardens of the main house as it was rather smaller than the Uchiha house and only had two guest rooms and it wouldn’t be appropriate for Mito to stay too close to him anyway given – everything.

Still it was a relief when it broke up and Touka led the Uzu nin out of the room, Hashirama sagging over the table as soon as the door was shut, “How badly did I screw it up?” he muttered into the table. Tobirama blinked, a faint frown pulling at his brow as he looked at his brother; he glanced at Madara and the Uchiha leaned forward, pressing his lips to Tobirama’s ear and breathing “He doesn’t want to fail you, its ok to comfort him.” the albino bit his lip and then reached out, laying a hand on Hashirama’s arm and shifting closer awkwardly as he pulled out his fan, tapping it to the table to get Hashirama’s attention. The older Senju twisted his head enough to see his brother’s fan language as Tobirama signed (Mistake?/didn’t make/mistake/why think?), Hashirama blinked looking more than a little surprised. “You don’t have notes for me?” he asked, sounding floored and Tobirama frowned, leaning into the supporting hand Madara had placed low on his back (I do/why does that/mean/you made mistake?) he flickered and Hashirama frowned, looking confused. “You only ever have notes for me when I fuck up” he muttered, sounding a little resentful.

Tobirama’s frown deepened and his hand twitched like he was about to say something with the fan before he got a frustrated look on his face and turned to Madara, signing in Nara Sign Language ‘I am not my Father!’ Which, ah. yes. Madara looked at Hashirama and sighed, he had promised that he would help hadn’t he? “Hashirama, he’s not your father, he wouldn’t be giving you notes just to punish you with them. He gives you notes because he sees something that you don’t” he glanced at Tobirama, ‘He’s good at things I am not, I try to help with what I can because I am not good at people and he has to make up for that. I only want to support him’ “Hashirama, you have a gift for people that he doesn’t and he knows that, he says he tries to help with what he can help with- well he says 'make up for' but that’s bullshit- to support you, not to undermine you.”

Hashirama was gapping, looking nothing short of floored as he glanced between them, “He- I-“ he paused for a long time “I didn’t mean to compare you to father” he said, sounding contrite, “I can – I was, but, not intentionally I swear I just –“ he stuttered to stop and scrubbed at his face “kami he really fucked us up didn’t he?” he whispered finally, just loud enough to be heard. Tobirama’s face fell and he inched closer, looking like he wanted to touch Hashirama but wasn’t sure he should until Madara curled his chakra around him and with a deep breath he leaned into Hashirama in something that was almost a hug if he had used his arms, clicking his tongue slightly and brushing a hand down Hashirama’s long hair as the older Senju made a choked sound, curling in closer to his little brother like he was collapsing in on himself.

Chapter Text

Tobirama curled over his brother, stroking Hashirama’s long silky hair as his own chakra flailed back for Madara’s reassuring presence, pressing back into the Uchiha when Madara was immediately there, pressed close to his back, making a calming rumble deep in his chest as Hashirama shook. Protectively Tobirama curled over his brother, a little distracted by the closeness (of a kind that they hadn’t had since they were very small), but trying to focus on Hashirama until the shaking eased and Hashirama slowly sat up, swiping at his face with his sleeve and sniffling “It just makes me so angry sometimes, to think of how bad he fucked us up, kami the fan he gave me was a tessen that was literally forged with Uchiha blood and he didn’t even give you one!” (he- what-? Oh blessed stars, no wonder Hashirama had never wanted to touch something like that) “and I know I can’t get angry because things get bad but-“ and that, no, just not, Tobirama reached out to cover Hashirama’s mouth, trying to figure out how to talk to his brother and then just giving up and using NSL, trusting that Madara would translate ‘You are allowed to be angry, its healthy to be angry brother; yes as a child it was dangerous but you didn’t kill panda-brother-‘ “Panda-brother?” Madara stopped his translation and Hashirama’s whole face softened as he breathed, “Itama” and Tobirama went on ‘and you never did it again, you have more control now, now you wouldn’t make the same mistake. You were a child! Its safer now’.

Hashirama chewed sharply on his lip, looking uncertain even when Tobirama fixed him with a sharp look and added ‘And it doesn’t make you father either’  which made Hashirama duck his head as Madara repeated his words with a muttered “Got to learn this Nara thing”. After a long moments he looked up, smiling weakly, “I – Mito…”  he trailed off and Tobirama winced, stoking his brother’s hair back from his face, “I will do what I have to for the clan, and I think Mito and I could be close enough I just wish…” behind Tobirama Madara grumbled, voice displeased when he said, “Wish it wasn’t contrived like this and starting off with them trying to get the upper hand? Not a promising start.” gently Tobirama elbowed his Uchiha and tsked sharply at him even as Hashirama laughed wetly, snorting unattractively as he snarked back “Well maybe I just wanted an Uchiha of my own!” which made Madara twitch and grumble wordlessly.

“It’ll be fine however it turns out and if we are lucky we’ll have that village and we’ll all be together anyway!” Hashirama was clearly trying to be positive about it and Tobirama didn’t call his brother on it, luckily neither did Madara as Hashirama smiled at them forcefully. After a moment the cheer faded though and Madara said, very quietly, “Hashirama, did you – To’ra said there was, uh, conditioning and I just wondered if you-?” Hashirama frowned and Tobirama quailed back into his warm Uchiha, looking away awkwardly. “No I – what condi- oh, when you go away?” Hashirama’s voice was slow and worried and Tobirama twitched in a nod flicking the fan (When Father wanted/to look/good/for clan) he hesitated but he could see the gears moving behind Hashirama’s eyes, “When you were tired or hurt right? But not just when he wanted you to look untouchable, it was after missions too wasn’t it? I walked in on you reporting to father more than once, Tobi” Tobirama twitched “I remember what it looked like. I just didn’t realize – conditioning? Like with key words and everything?” behind Tobirama Madara nodded as the albino was refusing to look at his brother while this was talked about.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Hashirama breathed and Tobirama hesitated, not sure if he should mention – but, Madara said that he would keep it good, right? After a moment he fan flickered, (I did) breathe, (you just/didn’t see) and Hashirama inhaled a sharp breath, sounding as though he had been gutted. “Your Words” he breathed “I – I stopped looking, I thought you stopped-“ but Tobirama just shook his head, not looking at his brother and pressing harder back into his wall of warm Uchiha. Madara’s arm slipped around his waist and tightened soothingly “Can I -? Do you still have it?” Tobirama nodded, unwilling to look at this brother “Can I look at it? I know it’s been a long time and that I am very late, maybe too late, but I would like to know what you had to say even if its long past time.”

Hashirama was nearly crawling out of his skin with nerves as he asked about this, well aware that he couldn’t fix the broken promise from so long ago but – he wanted to honor the words that his brother had wanted to say to him; his brother deserved to have his words witnessed even if the time when they could have changed anything as long past. There was a long pause and it was Madara’s calm dark gaze over Tobirama’s should- and kami wasn’t it strange to see his brother being so tactile with someone, good but strange- that made Hashirama wait silently, even if his hands were fidgeting franticly with his hems. Finally Tobirama sighed out a deep breath and seemed to press back into Madara before he shifted to stand, the Uchiha letting him go in perfect sync and following him up to press another hand to the albino’s lower back. Awkwardly Hashirama scrambled up to his feet, brushing down his clothing and grabbing the tea tray, feeling like he ought to give his brother a minute with Madara even though he didn’t know how he felt about the closeness between the two men.

It was strange to see his remote brother curling close like his summons and Hashirama didn’t know how to feel about the warm obsession he saw in Madara’s eyes but given the Uchiha Thing that was going on maybe that was normal? He would have to find a time to make sure that Madara wasn’t leading his brother along, even unintentionally; because Hashirama knew his brother and he knew that Tobirama wanted Madara, he had no idea when that had happened but he knew it was true and Touka had told him about Tobirama’s fondness for Madara’s chakra, but he knew that it would break Tobi’s heart if there were limits he ran into without warning and he needed to make sure that they were communicating clearly with each other – well, after he fixed his own communication with his brother. Hashirama set the tea tray on the kitchen counter, breathing through the stress and trying to focus and ground himself, this wasn’t going to be easy; in fact he expected this to hurt a lot but it as needed and Tobirama deserved it so Hashirama would do it (even if the timing was less than perfect).

Back at Tobirama’s old room with the little wooden decorations on the door frame that Hashirama used to add (here was a small camellia on the bottom left corner ((Tobirama had been tired that day, he always was, but when Hashirama had come to him he had followed his big brother and healed the wounded fox cub anyway, teaching Hashirama as he did so)) and some stocks curling over the frame) and Madara was leaning a hip against the desk as Tobirama emptied one drawer. The sketches of Itama and Kawarama pinned above the desk catching the light as it slanted through the window that also poured over a little wooden wolf with a spiky mane on top of the desk (had Tobirama taken the other wolf Hashirama had made? The little Hashi wolf?) and there was a soft clunk as Tobirama opened the false bottom Hashirama had helped him put in in the middle drawer and slowly pulled out and old, worn looking leather journal (Tobirama’s Words, Hashirama recognized it from when he gave it to his brother so long ago). Clearly well used it was stuffed with loose papers shoved between pages inside the worn binding (Hashirama had had no idea Tobi would ever be ok with something so messy, but then again he put up with Hashirama so,) and the tie holding it closed was worn and looked ready to fall apart at a touch.

“To’ra?” Madara asked in a low voice, one hand curling over the back of Tobirama’s neck in a possessive way, Tobi licked his lips and his fingers flickered through what must have been the Nara Sing Language (it must be, there as no reason for Tobirama to be talking about dancing noodles which is what the Senju Mission signs looked like) (Hashirama needed to learn it), explaining something to Madara who glanced at Hashirama with a sharp judgmental look. “He said that because words can be hard for him even before-“ a hesitation and Tobirama turned to press his cheek into Madara’s wrist “-before, you got him this journal when he was a child and told him ‘I know it’s hard for you to talk sometimes Tobi, so this is for you’ and told him that if ever he couldn’t speak for some reason he could just write out what he wanted to say and you would read it and that you were loud enough to make when he wanted said heard. That you would be his voice and would always read his words so he wrote down the things he couldn’t say, all the things no one wanted to hear” Tobirama’s hands flickered and Madara’s face pinched “that no one wanted to listen if he wasn’t talking about war, so he put everything else here – even after no one was looking.”

Hashirama swallowed hard, his heart lurching and dropping as he looked at how much paper had been stuffed in the journal, far more than it had even been intended to hold; far more than Hashirama had ever intended to miss. Madara’s dark eyes were a little condemning and Hashirama didn’t know what to say; he had stopped looking for Tobirama’s Words after the falling out after the river confrontation (and kami wasn’t that stupid in retrospect, given Tobirama’s range he must have known about the meetings; he must have known that Izuna had followed them and known the only way to save Hashirama was to get father. But no, Hashirama was an idiot and he hadn’t thought of that for far longer than he wanted to admit). “Can I?” Hashirama whispered, stepping in closer and reaching slightly for the overstuffed journal, unsurprised when it took a long moment for Tobirama to hold it out and when the tie snapped as it was passed into his hands, spilling papers all over the desk and floor.

Madara tightened his hold on his Center, feeling unnervingly like he was the only thing holding Tobirama together as the albino twitched and flinched back from the spill of old papers. One of them slid to a stop in front of him and Madara glanced down at it, reading:  I felt the most amazing thing today! Well, person, I felt a person today, I mean – I feel lots of people, but today I felt the most amazing person! They’re Uchiha I think (I…hope not) but it’s amazing, like, the warmest thing ever. Hashirama was making my head hurt – he gets so loud with his chakra and forgets it hurt and I don’t want to tell him cuse it makes him sad – and so I reached out to see if I could find something to get my attention off and there was this amazing person, like, like, a Loadstar and everything and–  Madara realized with a jolt that this was about him, Tobirama was writing about him and his meetings with Hashirama and – he had liked Madara’s chakra that much even back then?

-Hashirama thinks that I don’t know who he’s meeting with. I don’t get it, he knows how far I can sense, he must know that I can feel him meet with the Uchiha, right? he must know. He does. And that’s why he’s not telling me, it’s not that he doesn’t trust me he just knows he doesn’t have to tell me so he’s not wasting breath (….right?)

Father is unhappy again, I don’t know how long the explanation about mediating to get closer to the natural energies will work and – I wish they would change meeting places and times sometimes, I should tell Hashi – I – no, he’ll tell me when he’s ready. he will

The paper under his fingers was brittle with split blisters and dirty fingers and it was – had – Tobirama had written out an entire schedule plan that would have let him meet with Hashirama at different times and places and included Uchiha patrol rotations in it as well (he could feel the patrols? Kami bless), all that it waited for was Hashirama to say something and he – he hadn’t from the look of these papers. The Uchiha’s jaw tightened harshly as he picked up a different paper i  ….Hashi gave me – Hashi told me, he said. Said      I even if I couldn’t find the words to say he said he would, would listen however I wanted to – but I. i wanted to tell him I tried but he. and Madara. Hashi wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t even look at the words and I. is there something wrong with me? How did I – he said he would if I tried he would I tried and he. i didn’t want him to die ad Izuna was going for their father and i i must have done something wrong again. (Madara is never going to be my friend is he? I just wanted to know if…if his chakra was as nice- and- stupid) and kami this was just…brutal. Madara wasn’t sure he was strong enough to read this without losing it or punching Hashirama’s face in – though given the look on the Senju’s face he looked like he might prefer to be hit in the face over read what was in his hands.

A paper tilted and Madara glimpsed I can still feel – their hands and I – I and another Can’t get clean can’t get clean can’t get clean can’t get clean and the implications of that – his eyes landed on I worked on the plumbing planning today- I found the print from lighting in the trash, I don’t know why Father though it wasn’t useful- and it’s much better now! Not like this first one, Akira says that one would have flooded in months and it was too close to the electrical grid anyway (we're going to have electricity if I have anything to say about it! Hashi wants to change the future then we should really change it and then maybe I can be near Madara sometimes, not be friends, I know I’m….he wouldn’t want to be friends, but it would just be nice to be near his chakra sometimes and Madara just –

But that was when Hashirama straightened to his full height, eyes blowing wide as he stared down at a paper in his hands, face ashen. “Tobi…” he breathed looking sick “Tobi tell me you didn’t – tell me you didn’t – didn’t –“ apparently out of words as he held up a blood spotted paper. It turns out that when you cut down to the femur  and try to heal     the scratches on the bone first it’s not a good choice. T h is is going to be   a problem in training tomorrow, I will   have to plan jut s u development timing   differently and the implications of that….under Madara’s hand Tobirama winced and flinched into the desk, pushing at the paper with his fingers, finally flickering (how else/was I supposed to/tests were needed) with the fan Madara had given him as Hashirama made a broken noise and sank to his knees.

Slightly frantic Madara hauled his Center to his feet and scanned him for lingering wounds even though it was much too late to do anything about (he had been testing healing jutsu on himslef!?), reaching out to smack Hashirama and snarl, “Don’t just sit there, check him over! You’re the healer here!” and that seemed to get through Hashirama’s thick head as he leapt to his feet, hands glowing green as he scanned his brother from head to toe; Tobirama just sighing and letting his brother do as he would, leaning into Madara to brace when he got bored. Madara distracted by the increasingly grim look on Hashirama’s face. “Tobi” he choked out “you – you must be in pain all the time, how-?” but Tobirama just shrugged, signing Seals and chakra circulation and practice in NSL and curling closer to Madara, starting to look very overwhelmed.

“Can you fix it?” Madara asked aggressively and Hashirama hesitated, biting his lip “I don’t know, I’m going to try but...its a lot of damage, I’ll have to research some things and – and then it could take a long time.” Well, that was better than no even if it wasn’t perfect. Madara shifted closer to his Center as he felt Tobirama’s chakra tug needily at his own and – yeah, this was enough for today, they all needed sometime and space after all of this. “Alright, alright, Tobirama is maxed out and we have to do lunch with the Uzumaki so I am going to sit with Tobirama and rest for a bit, you go do the same, gather yourself Hashirama, we can take time working through all of this ok?” and anyway Madara had a suspicion that a certain weasel would be waiting for Hashirama in his room “we need a break. Alright?” Hands shaking Hashirama nodded, looking desperately like he needed a hug and carefully Madara set Tobirama on his bed before going and hauling Hashirama into a firm hug, muttering “We cans till fix this, just, just do better yeah? We’ll help, I promise.” Hashirama nodded into his shoulder, sniffling and pulling back to push Madara at his brother before slipping away, the journal and all its papers tucked in his big hands.

“Ok?” Madara asked, sitting on the bed next to Tobirama and curling an arm around him unsurprised when the was the slightest press pushing him to lay back with Tobirama curled on top of him, “alight, this is fine, this is good, I like this” Madara murmured, all too aware of I know I’m….he wouldn’t want to be friends, but it would just be nice to be near his chakra sometimes as he curled closer to his Center, trying to make him believe that those old words weren’t true with nothing but his presence and chakra.

Chapter Text

Tobirama was exhausted and he just wanted to skip lunch, especially since he couldn’t hide his muteness forever and would need to interact more as Hashirama would be distracted with their conversation and the Words so Tobirama would have to communicate and deal with the questions and keeping Madara stable through them (he could feel the man’s chakra trying to fluctuate where they were curled together). It would be interesting already to prove to the Uzumaki that the Senju had enough military might to be their allies- wealthy they may be, but the Uzumaki were already wealthy, they needed manpower not money in a main land ally- but there was no arguing that the combined might of the Senju and larger Uchiha clan was more than enough, so he had feeling it would work as long as the Senju-Uchiha alliance looked strong. It was just inconvenient that this all had to be happening at the same time as they were digging into the mess of his past with his brother even if – well, Tobirama already felt better really, a little lighter for telling the truths that he had held so close for so long; even if he regretted burdening his brother like that. They – they needed to talk about Hashirama too at some point, clearly Father had fucked him up as much as he had Tobirama and the albino didn’t want to let his brother forget that he was a victim in this too.

None of which would be possible without Madara (and the summons Tobirama could feel in Hashirama’s rooms), Madara who was guiding them through this mess with shocking grace and for whom Tobirama couldn’t be more grateful; especially seeing some of his depressed childhood writings about how he thought Madara would never want to be his friend. And now look at it! Here he was curled up with Madara on his childhood bed, swamped in the chakra he loved best and feeling miraculously ok after an emotional conversation; it – it helped so much to know that whatever he signed Madara would say it loud enough it couldn’t be ignored, no matter what (Madara was good at loud). “We need to go join your brother for lunch” Madara murmured, hand stroking down Tobirama’s back and the Senju curled in closer with a petulant hiss, “To’ra…why did the Uzumaki make such an aggressive move anyway? Is their situation really so strained? I didn’t think Water posed such an imminent threat but to do this…” Tobirama though it over for a moment, considering it and then tapping out water.is.threat.disrespects.brother.door.gaurd.more., because he remembered Oshan Uzumaki’s name, he remembered that Oshan was the son of an Uzumaki Elder and though Uzushio wasn’t influenced by Elders as much as the clans of the five countries tended to be- much more of a flat out monarchy- they still had pull, so what in the world was one of their sons doing as a door guard?

There was some internal politics here and though Tobirama had no doubt that part of it was Enkai’s lack of respect with Butsuma coming through for the son he had never met but, still. Whatever was happening was clearly complicated, but it seemed as though Mito didn’t approve of it and wanted things with the Senju to work, as did the Kōraru if he was reading he chakra right – at the very least the man seemed to have a healthy respect for Madara and Hashirama and that was far better than Oshan at least. Maybe it would be best to see if Madara and Hashirama wanted to have a spar after lunch, they way they could burn off some energy and the Uzushio could get a taste of why they should fear Hashirama; something they apparently badly needed.

With sigh Tobirama pulled himself upright and scrubbed at his face, combing back his hair with his fingers and then turning to fix Madara’s wild mess while he was at it; luxuriating in the feel of the soft strands between his fingers (he had always dreamed of getting his fingers in Madara’s hair and now he regularly did). The Uchiha hummed and leaned into Tobirama’s hands, his own curling around Tobirama’s hips to steady him on the bed, “You’re ok?” he asked lowly, faint furrow between his brows and Tobirama just knew he was thinking about the snippet of writing that he had read (it wasn’t that Tobirama was trying to keep anything secret but…he had been more than a little pathetic at times as a child before he learned to hide his heart). Tobirama sighed and sat back, playing with the ends of Madara’s hair and twisting small braids into the strands as he thought; he felt…he felt lighter, better with his brother finally reading his Words but at the same time his heart ached for his brother and the pain this would cause him. The way that Hashirama would take on more guilt for this than he could carry and – Tobirama might feel a bit better but he feared that it would be enough to break his brother (it was the only reason he wasn’t saying anything about the fact that Izuna- who had come to check on them as promised- had gone in through Hashirama’s room and gotten stuck there with his brother, if Izuna as a summons was helping Hashirama Tobirama would keep his peace for now).

Finally he sat back observing his Uchiha and then standing to go to a small chest and pull out a few glittering gems designed to be added to braids that had been his mother’s, returning to Madara he sat again and started winding glittering gems into the small braids decorating the heavy fall of his inky hair. Madara pulled one braid forward to look at it with a smile, looking more than a little pleased before he dropped it and fixed Tobirama with a sharp look, making the Senju sigh again, signing in NSL ‘I am alright, I feel…lighter. I am just worried about brother, would you spar with him after lunch? It would distract him and show the red-whirl the power they are playing with.’ Madara’s fine dark brow flicked up and he smiled slow and rich, “You want me to spar with you brother and show off our power to the Uzumaki to stop this BS?” he summed up, looking gleeful when Tobirama nodded. “For you, anything” he promised, leaning close and pressing their brows together for a breath until they had to get up, Tobirama once again brushing his mouth along the edge of Madara’s jaw in an almost-kiss that whispered of submission, affection, and trust.

Madara was torn, he was still trying to tamp down his reaction to what he had seen- an insight into Tobirama’s childhood firsthand and it made Madara rage- though it helped that Tobirama himslef looked better off for sharing and in fact seemed the calmest of the three of them. It was an imperfect place to be going into a diplomatic lunch from, but there was nothing to be done without being rude and evening the field which they didn’t want, not when they had the Uzumaki in the wrong at the moment and wanted to keep them there to have more leverage in the negations. Luckily Tobirama’s suggestion of sparing was exactly what Madara needed to sort out his mood, a chance to beat Hashirama’s face in a little without it feeling personal and burn off some of the chakra that was swirling inside of him – plus he was always down to show off for his Center.

It was enough to keep him in a neutral mood when he joined the Uzu nin in the dinning room for lunch, Hashirama with a white weasel on his shoulder that Madara rolled his eyes at; he knew Izuna had been planning to show up and check on them and signal that the incense lighting had gone well but still, he – oh, wait, what if the marriage came up over lunch? Shit. Hopefully it wouldn’t, Madara wanted to tell his brother about that in person in case he was reading Izuna correctly (he didn’t think Izuna loved Hashirama, not yet, but…it wasn’t far off he didn’t think and he was worried for his brother). The weasel sneezed cutely and Hashirama cooed at it with a great deal of affection as they took their seats again, no one bothering to explain the weasel to the Uzu nin as they sat and Touka started serving food as the current female and lowest rank member of the house. This time however Madara was paying more attention to the door guard nin after Tobirama mentioning him, his short red-hair and stocky frame not giving away immediately that something was off but as Madara looked closer he could see that the man was chafing at being ignored and his clothing was finely made in a way that didn’t quite fit a guard, even for the wealthy clan.

“I wanted to apologize” Mito said, looking genuinely apologetic “for coming so unannounced, it was-“ behind her the ‘guard’ twitched and her mouth tightened with distaste “-it was not intended to cause any offence.” She finished, probably not what she had intended to say but the best she could do. Hashirama opened his mouth, probably to express forgiveness and that was when Tobirama acted, laying a hand on his brother’s arm and pulling out his Senju fan to flicker through some signs much to the confusion of the Uzu nin (Uzushio has ever been/ally/ we trust/that will not change) Hashirama’s mouth tightened but he dutifully changed what he was going to say and repeated his brother’s words instead, his dark eyes watchful on the other Uzumaki. Mito’s brow was furrowed and Madara could almost see her putting things together when she finally gasped “You – you could speak last I saw you Tobirama!” looking truly caught off guard.

Tobirama pursed his lips slightly and pulled down the neck of his turtleneck to show the nasty scar on his throat and it was everything that Madara could do to not look away, his chakra lurching painfully at this sight even as Tobirama’s hand caught his under the table. Mito paled and swallowed hard, the nins around her shifting uncomfortably as Tobirama signed to Madara Suggest the spar, it will break the tension. The Uchiha nodded and looked at Mito, “I hope you will forgive us, but Hashirama and I had planned to spar this afternoon as we didn’t expect guests, perhaps you should like to observe? To see another clan’s techniques?” Tobirama’s chakra flickered with amusement as Madara once again drew attention to their lack of manners and Madara’s lips pulled in a tiny smirk as he squeezed his Center’s hand, finally giving up and pulling it up from under the table and kissing the back of it, eyes hot on Tobirama’s face; kami he did love this man.

“Of – of course” Mito stuttered out, looking thrown and relived? at the clear affection. What had she thought was happening here? Oh well, as long as she said nothing to Tobirama or about him Madara wasn’t sure he cared. “It should be a good show” Touka interjected with a smirk “though we should go out of the compound, I rather like it as it is and not leveled to the ground because one of you got overenthusiastic.” At that it seemed the ‘guard’ (Oshan?) seemed to be able to hold it no longer and snorted, rolling his eyes with a sneer and next to Madara Tobirama’s chakra froze, going still and cold in the same way that it had when he grabbed the man’s blood earlier. Moments later water coalesced out of the air into a set of words, ice creeping over them as they hung in the air Do you have something to say Uzumaki? And everyone in the room froze.

“Tobi” Hashirama murmured, not quite warning, not quite impressed, and Madara fed his Center a little chakra through their clasped hands to offset the work this technique took Tobirama. Oshan paled and seemed to be remembering that this was a nin strong enough with suiton to hold his blood but still he didn’t back down, sneer faltering and then returning as he tried to hide his fear (spoiled, Madara thought, spoiled and entitled, whoever he was he was the child of someone important; Madara would bet the koi pond on it). “The Senju made it sound like a simple spar could level this compound and you don’t even use Fūinjutsu.” Oshan prodded, full of false bravado that withered as Madara burst into laughter, Hashirama following after him with a more sedate chuckle. Even Tobirama was smirking and rolling his eyes, waving a negligent hand at the water words to disburse them as Touka guffawed, sniggering out “You don’t get out much do you Uzumaki?” that had Oshan flushing an ugly red “come and see what the God of Shinobi and the Calamity can do, if you dare.” (the poor Kōraru looked deeply ashamed and had just given up and hidden his dark face in his hands and long hair as the Senju cousin laughed, missing Touka’s interested glance at the quiet man entirely.)

Chapter Text

Tobirama stood in a bare patch of ground near the Naka as Madara and Hashirama faced off against each other, Izuna’s weasel on his shoulder and both men laughed with each other comfortably and did nothing to change their clothing or hair to the Uzu nin’s apparent confusion. Amused Tobirama exchanged a look with Touka, pleased to see her fanning herself with a new fan (not the old one Tobirama had given her out of bear bones and stolen silk, no this was sandalwood and purple silk dyed with golden bamboo, Hashirama was taking it seriously then – maybe….maybe Tobirama could get him a new fan?) and slightly interested to see that the Kōraru nin had maneuvered closer to her while Mito stood next to Tobirama, Yuina on the hime’s other side as the Kintsugi woman stood behind them and Oshan stood a little apart (clearly everyone but him was part of Mito’s chosen party and he was not enjoying odd man out status – though the Kintsugi seemed to be withholding judgment).

“How much do you think they will destroy this area?” Touka asked him and he sent her a dry look, Touka laughing loudly again “True, at least we have you here to keep them from diverting the river!”  Tobirama snorted noiselessly and flicked his chakra out strong enough for both Madara and the duller-sensed Hashirama to feel, smirking when both took it as a signal to start and a huge thorny bramble exploded out of the ground under Madara, consuming all the space but the circle Tobirama had delineated for the watchers as trees reached out to get in on the fray. Next to Tobirama Mito sucked in sharp breath in surprise as Madara leapt straight up with a laugh and blew a torrent of scarlet flame down over the plant growth, reducing anything not purely mokuton to ash in seconds and even the mokuton to charred coal that was easily batted away with his gunbai (the Kōraru nin whimpered a bit as they were surrounded on all sides by a sea of scarlet flame, Tobirama smirked). But Hashirama wasn’t a master at his craft for nothing and as soon as Madara was breathing fire he was building a new construct of plant matter to send roaring after Madara; this too was slashed in half (kami but Tobirama loved Madara’s strength with that war fan) and the Uchiha got in close enough that he could punch Hashirama square in the face, hard enough to throw the Senju back into the trees- which caught him- and audibly break his jaw.

“Tobirama” Mito breathed, looking like he was about to ask him to call a halt after such an injury and then her words stuttered out as Hashirama was let down by the trees, flexing his already healing jaw with a wry look as he muttered – only slightly slurred, “I sssupossse I desserved that”. Madara nodded, some of his tension already easing now he had hit Hashirama head on and launched himself at the Senju in a gout of flame that splashed against a wall of wood Hashirama threw up to cover the last few seconds of his healing before he dove forward as well. (Yes hime?) Tobirama fan flickered, Touka translating with a smirk as they both looked at the pale woman and her companions, all of whom were watching with unfeigned horror as Madara and Hashirama rewrote the topography of this section of Fire.

“I…oh. And this is a spar?” Mito asked quietly, her eyes flicking between the two men but lingering on Hashirama (which, promising all things considered). “Oh yes” Touka purred “this is them holding back, they could probably cut a valley with their fighting if they were actually trying to kill each other. And just think of the range, Hashirama’s mokuton can reach pretty much anywhere in Fire and effect almost any living plant- I wonder if it works on coral? I know it works on kelp- and even without it he is still one of the best Shinobi in existence.” Next to her the Kōraru nin breathed “They could level Uzushio in a day”, his dark skin showed fear less clearly but his eyes were wide and he was clinging to his heat-wind tossed colorful hair with both hands “we knew they were reputed to be powerful but it is one thing to know it and another to see it.” Mito nodded her agreement as a great spire of wood exploded out of the ground rising higher and higher and higher, far above the tree tops as Hashirama prepared one of his larger range jutsu and together Tobirama and Touka formed the seals needed to filter the air in their little seal bubble.

Around them a profusion of flowers burst into existence, pollen filling the air like fog even as Madara leapt back, searing an open space around himslef as he gathered a great upwelling of chakra to himslef, eyes glowing powerfully and spinning to Mangekyō before suddenly there was a glowing ribcage forming around him and Tobirama sucked n a shocked breath. He had only seen this once before when Izuna used it against him and even then it hadn’t been completed, a skeleton alone which the construct forming around Madara was certainly more than; a full and shinning Susanoo that took on of its great swords to the tower and simply chopped it down, like a hot knife through butter. Slicing through the tower as it fell so it would do less damage when it hit the ground and so tall that at least some of the other clans must be able to see it looming over the trees.

Around him the Uzu nin made sick noises and Mito corrected the Kōraru, muttering “Less than a day” in a breathless voice as Hashirama laughed as he fell easily caught by a succession of trees that were then cut through by Madara’s Susanoo. The Wooden dragon had more success but it was clear that unless Hashirama wanted to really go all out and wipe this area off the map the spar was over which was just as well, both had gotten a few good hits on the other- Madara more on Hashirama than the other way but Tobirama thought his brother might have still been off balance from earlier- and their point had been made; risking pissing Hashirama and by extension Madara off had been a titanically bad move on the Uzumaki’s part. As the Susanoo was dismissed Tobirama broke their seal circle and checked his brother quickly before tugging gently on a lock of hair with a fond look as the weasel jumped to Hashirama's shoulder with a nuzzle before darting away into the forest, and then going to Madara, hands glowing green as he healed his Uchiha’s few bruises since he didn’t have healing powers like Hashirama.

“I’ve never been able to make a full Susanoo so easily” Madara murmured to him, one gloved hand cupping Tobirama’s cheek “my eyes aren’t even bleeding, I guess the stories that Center-shaded eyes are more stable was correct in this at least.” Tobirama smiled and turned into the hand on his cheek, nuzzling into it as his hands rested on that firm chest before pulling back to sign in NSL ‘We should speak to Elder-shrine-cat about it, she is the expert in your clan you said’ Madara nodded thoughtfully, inching closer and curling around Tobirama even though they were of a height (if anything Tobirama had an inch on the Uchiha). “So did we make our point?” he asked lowly, hand stoking down Tobirama’s back as the Senju shook slightly with silent laughter and nodded into his neck; fully on board for this slow motion hug that Madara had going on. “Good” Madara rumbled, voice full of masculine self-satisfaction that only made Tobirama laugh harder, breathing in the scent of smoke and sweat and labdanum oil and wishing he could just spend the rest of the day here, curled close to his warm Uchiha. But he had to go check on his brother and help with the Uzu nin – Touka was good but she wasn’t as good as he was; not really if nothing else she didn’t have the history of knowing what the backgrounds of the nin were.

With a sigh Tobirama pulled back, stroking Madara’s jaw once and then turning back to the other nin just in time to see several of the Uzu nin look away awkwardly. Hashirama was beaming again, looking only slightly forced as he talked to Mito- who looked notably smug-, Oshan looking like he way trying to fade into the background and be forgotten (smart). (Well done brother) Tobirama flickered to his brother, amused when Hashirama brightened at the signs and smoothed his sleek hair back with one hand, not noticing Mito’s interested gaze (well, if this was going to be a thing Tobirama would have to work on it, try and make sure that it was as romantic as it could be for his brother’s sake and have a talk with Mito abut treating him right). Next to him Madara’s chakra flickered oddly and Tobirama sent an inquisitive look at his Uchiha, worried at the sad look on Madara’s face and the way the dark haired man just shook his head slightly; fine, a conversation for another time then but Tobirama wasn’t going to forget this. Now, how could he communicate with Mito?

Madara was….glad, for Hashirama that the Uzumaki-hime seemed actually interested in him if they were going to be forced into a marriage (and honestly, even if Mito wasn’t in the picture would Izuna be an option? Hashirama had to have an heir of his blood and body with his bloodline and Izuna couldn’t do that. It was better for Madara who had strong cousins and a clan that prized love over anything but even so if he ever convinced Tobirama to marry him they would have to talk surrogates). He was glad that Mito seemed like a strong woman and one that would suit Hashirama well and cover the absence of Tobirama; he just wished…..Tobirama sent him another worried look and Madara shook his head, slipping his arm around the albino’s waist to pull him closer and under the blanket of his chakra; delighted when his Center melted into him.

Ahead of them Touka was doing her best to act as lady of the clan, talking with the Kōraru next to her, his bright hair fluttering in the wind as they talked pole-arms from the sounds of it. Oshan the troublesome was trailing behind them and the two other remember of their party walked between Hashirama with Mito and Madara and Tobirama themselves; once back at the compound the asshole retreated to the guest house and Mito asked Hashirama to show her the gardens (Madara was glad that Izuna’s summons had left after the spar) with the Kintsugi woman trailing them as  guard. It left the Kōraru to go look at the armory with Touka and the third Uzumaki bowed out to go to the guest house with her kinsmen; all of which allowed Madara and Tobirama to retire privately to the albino’s room to Madara’s relief.

Sprawling on the bed with Tobirama curled between him and the wall against his hip playing more with his hair Madara was as happy as he could get, drawing patterns on Tobirama’s thigh absently as he turned over everything in his head. “So you think that the Uzumaki came the way they did because they underestimated Hashirama and it was a power play pushed by their Elders- I am guessing Oshan is the child of an Elder-“ Tobirama nodded “that Enkai didn’t shut down the way he should have because he was thinking of Butsuma?” Tobirama nodded again, signing ‘That about sums up my understanding of it, it seems Elders are a problem no matter where you are.’ There was a wry twist to his lips and Madara grimaced at the thought of his own Elders – though it was tempered by amusement, since the first meeting with the Elders Yumi had run into a series of unfortunate accidents that had made her life rather more humiliating.

“Hopefully Yashiro won’t have spread his bile any since we were gone and Izuna’s summons will have gathered something, maybe at the lighting of the incense they will have noticed something since that is the only time the entire clan is gathered together at once unless I have a major announcement.” Pressed against Madara Tobirama stiffened, eyes widening as his brilliant mind worked- kami Madara loved to watch him think like this- blowing out a shocked breath, ‘The entire clan?’  he pressed, chakra urgent as Madara frowned and propped himself up and his elbows. “Yes, the entire clan gathers once a week to pay our obeisance to our kami when we light the new incense as part of the ceremony that Izu and I lead.” He agreed and Tobirama bit his lip sharply, signing ‘Is there any way that something could be distributed through the clan at the ceremony that could carry the tar? A ceremonial sake or something? Because Star-burning, if that is the one thing everyone has in common…’ Madara sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, mind racing, that…..they had always trusted that anything to do with their kami was safe, that she watched over them when they paid her the right obeisance and that had shrine was the safest place in the compound and if that had been polluted –

“There’s nothing we share, nothing –“ his mind worked over the ceremony, trying to figure out what they were all exposed to other than just being in the same place; there was nothing that – in his mind’s eye he could see the ceremony with the shrine and the bells and the incense billowing and –

Oh

“The incense” Madara whispered “I don’t even know where it comes from, just that the nin-miko give it to us to light and Izuna and I are closest; the children are the furthest at the back of the crowd. It – it has to be the incense.” Tobirama’s lovely eyes widened and then narrowed, mind working as he nodded slowly, chakra flickering with agreement. ‘I’ll check it when we get back, if it is that we can stop burning it- I’ll bring something new from the Senju to burn- and I can cleanse the clan right away; I hate leaving it like this with the clan unstable.’ Madara nodded, gut twisting at the thought of how exhausting it would be for Tobirama to cleanse the entire clan but grateful more than anything that his Center was so willing to do so much for them.

At dinner that night it was announced that the two Uzumaki would be returning with the newly signed treaty after they signed it the next day, the Kōraru and the Kintsugi staying as Mito’s household at least until the wedding and Madara’s heart dropped even though Hashirama looked happy enough all things considered. Well, at least that meant Tobirama and he could return to the Uchiha day after tomorrow, and Madara could break the new to his brother; hopefully before Izuna was too committed but Madara wasn’t holding his breath.

Chapter Text

Tobirama was grateful to be back at the Uchiha compound though it had hurt to leave his brother and he had had to be forceful about making his brother listen when he told him that they weren’t done talking about Father and what his actions meant for Hashirama. The older Senju had tried to duck away but with Madara holding him still Tobirama had gotten his message across and reluctantly left after the two Uzumaki had; exchanging a warning look with Mito before he left and hoping that Touka would be enough to help Hashirama keep things together (running a clan was never a task to take on on your own). Still, he felt oddly more relaxed in the Uchiha compound where he could talk more easily (sure, his Senju students had come up with a childish sign language out of a mix of mission signs and bastardized fan signs plus stuff they made up and it touched Tobirama in a way he had never imagined but it was still awkward and difficult to get complicated concepts across) and where he was greeted with warmth as the stabilizing influence on Madara rather than Butsuma’s blade and the man that killed half the Elders in one go for his brother.

But now he was back in his study in the Uchiha house leaning over the incense taken from the shrine with a mask over his nose- replaced with the most expensive stuff Tobirama could get from the Senju and discreetly swapped by Izuna- trying to figure out what the hell it was and where it came from and why it had such a bad effect on Uchiha chakra. So far there was very little that he could tell about it except that it was made of a mix of agarwood and something powdery and white that Tobirama couldn’t identify even with all his skill with poisons and time examining plant with his brother; kami he couldn’t even tell what family it was from! It was driving Tobirama nuts and though they had confiscated all of the incense and replaced it as well as giving Izuna new stuff in case it was switched again- which would at least tell them who was doing it- it irritated him that he couldn’t figure out how it functioned. Not that that would stop Tobirama cleansing the clan starting tomorrow  (it would probably take a few days to finish at least) and having changed the incense would tell them if it was that since Tobirama was unwilling to experiment with cleansing Madara and then burning it near him, the damage was just not needed and Tobirama wouldn’t do it to his Uchiha; especially since it might not look like it but Madara was still unstable. If only he could figure out –

Frustrated Tobirama yanked off the magnifying goggles he was wearing and slammed them to the desk, sweeping the incense into a sealed drawer, peeling off his mask and looking longingly at the book on Uchiha ration that he had been using recently for his projects. No, what he needed was Madara right now, he needed, his Uchiha and his warm chakra and strong fingers rubbing Tobirama’s temples; he always thought best when with Madara. So, Madara, go find Madara, he would be in the glass studio at the moment and Tobirama had always wanted to see where Madara worked so maybe he would go bug him there? Madara would be happy to see him right? Biting his lip Tobirama descended the stairs and wrapped his knuckles against the door frame of the sitting room where Izuna was sprawled over the couch. “’sup?” the younger Uchiha muttered, dragging his eyes out of his scroll to see Tobirama sign, ‘Is Star-burning at the glass studio?’ Izuna cocked an eyebrow, a slow smirk unfurling over his face “You looking for him then?” he asked, smirk spreading when Tobirama nodded “Then yup, he’s there, I’ll send a summons ahead to warn him – best not to surprise him, safety and all that” Izuna called one of his weasels and muttered to it, sending it skittering away as Tobirama blinked in surprise. He…guessed that made sense, after all there was a lot of hot things in the studio presumably but – whatever, Tobirama just wanted his Uchiha right now.

Briskly the albino nodded to his little brother (didn’t matter what the ages were, Izuna was his little brother now) and headed for the door, slipping into his sandals and a haori. The walk to the studio was slowed by various Uchiha wanting to say hello but Tobirama arrived at the studio before too long and the Uchiha craftsman pointed him through to the section that was Madara’s and Tobirama ducked through the low room into the brightly lit, searingly hot space and –

Guh

Oh sweet kami.

Tobirama was not strong enough for this.

Not strong enough for Madara with his hair in a low tail, gems Tobirama had braided in winking in the light as the sweat-sheened muscles of his back gleamed in the light under the ties of the leather apron he was wearing – the only thing he was wearing other than low shinobi pants and – just – Tobirama had been trying so hard to be good. Tobirama had been restraining himslef around Madara every time he touched those amazing muscles, every time he had another one of those dreams, every time Madara’s eyes dropped to his lips and Tobirama thought that maybe? Maybe it was possible that Madara might, maybe, maybe, want him back the same way Tobirama wanted the Uchiha.

Madara must have sensed his presence as he looked up and turned to look at Tobirama, wiping his hands and face with a towel and smiling as he glowed in the firelight and –

Tobirama only had so much will power.

Brain empty he could only stare as Madara came closer, starting to look worried right up until he came in range and Tobirama’s hand snapped up fast as only he was, fastening around the leather straps and hauling the Uchiha in close and just fucking kissing him. It wasn’t planned- in fact if he had thought about it he never would have done it- but Madara just looked so – so – ugh, Tobirama couldn’t handle it and the only thing to do was just kiss the man, one hand tangled in that lovely hair and one still wrapped around the strap of his apron, the feel of hot skin against the backs of his fingers making him feel shaky and stupid. For a second Madara didn’t respond, just long enough for Tobirama to start to panic and pull away and then those big hands were closing around his hips as the Uchiha dragged him back, pressing them together head to toe and tilting his head for a better angle as he surged into the kiss, putting Tobirama on the back foot with a helpless little inhale.

Madara was confused but it was a distant feeling, one he hardly paid any attention too, far more interested in the feel of his Center’s chapped lips under his and the supple bend of his back under Madara’s hand as he kissed the albino fiercely enough that it bent Tobirama slightly back over his hand. Kami this was….kissing Tobirama was like nothing Madara had ever experienced, the albino seem artless with his enthusiasm (Madara knew- though he tried not to think about it- that Tobirama had done honeypot missions but none of that showed in their embrace and it thrilled Madara to have this honest hunger from the man he so adored) and his lovely hands held on to Madara like he was afraid the Uchiha was going to try and leave when all Madara wanted was to press closer and consume him. He nipped sharply at the thin lip and Tobirama gasped into his mouth, wriggling closer as Madara licked soothingly at the nipped lip, thrilled when the mouth under his opened as Tobirama clumsily kissed him back, tentatively licking into Madara’s mouth as the Uchiha shuddered and groaned deep and rough; surging forward to press Tobirama’s back to the support beam in the studio and hitching him closer, one long leg curling up around Madara’s hip and bring them closer.

He – oh fuck – he should slow this down and figure out what was – ooohh, kami – what was going on. Shit, Tobirama shifted the angle a bit further and Madara’s brain melted out of his ears as the albino sucked at his tongue; fuck figuring anything out, he was just going to enjoy what was happening. Moaning in a way he would probably feel over aware of later Madara smoothed his hand down the thigh that was curled over his hip, shuddering at the feel of those tight muscles under his hand as his other hand pressed tight between Tobirama’s shoulders and molded them further together.

A loud crash sounded from one of the other studios and Madara jolted, forcing himself to pull back far enough their mouths separated, though he left their brows pressed together, breathing each other in. “What in the world did I do to deserve that?” Madara asked, voice low and rough with arousal even though some amusement peeked through, reluctantly letting down Tobirama’s leg as the albino blinked at him with a slightly glazed look though it was quickly sharpening; looking a bit sheepish with pink on the tops of his high cheekbones, Tobirama untangled his hands from Madara’s hair as he clicked his tongue at the Uchiha and signed ‘Izuna planed this didn’t he?’  Madara raised an eyebrow and Tobirama frowned, though it was softened by his red, spit-slick lips, ‘He knew I would take one look at you like this and lose it didn’t he?’ Madara laughed throatily, “I doubt he thought you would react quite like this but, yes, he probably though to get a reaction out of you. Personally if I had known that you would react like this I would have asked you to come visit me the first day you were here” Tobirama blushed harder at the tease and glared at Madara, pushing petulantly at his chest in what Madara was willing to bet was just an excuse to feel him up as it wasn’t strong enough to move him even an inch.

Madara softened, shifting a hand to brush a strand of white hair out of lovely red eyes, time to take the leap and trust, “Truly though, I – I want this with you To’ra, if this is something you want too. I want everything with you” the way his voice cracked on the words showed more vulnerability than Madara showed anyone, than he had trusted anyone in a very long time and some of Tobirama’s embarrassment faded in the face of that, one long hand coming up and stroking the side of Madara’s face before he eased forward to brush a chaste kiss over Madara’s mouth. ‘I want this with you, you are my everything Star-burning, my loadstar, all want is a place next to you and with you.’ he signed and Madara’s heart soared, a stupid smiled spreading over his face as he wrapped both arms tightly around the albino’s slim waist and spun them, too happy to contain it (and very glad he was nearly done with his fan, only two more ribs to do with a Shīsā since he had just finished Yatagarasu).

Tobirama was shaking with silently laughter even as he- very gently- cuffed Madara over the head, cupping the Uchiha's face when the spinning stopped and kissing him again, slow and lingering and hungry until Madara was panting and stupid, away his face must look rathe idiotic right now as another crash came out of the other studio. Tobirama drew back with a petulant huff and turned to stick his tongue out in the direction of the crashes as he leaned back into Madara’s hold enough to sign (the trust of letting Madara hold him up made the Uchiha’s heart sing) ‘I think someone wants us to go home’ and Madara had to laugh, snickering even as he reluctantly pulled back from his albino, stroking over his ribs before he pulled his hands away and set abut taking off his gloves and apron a choking noise snapping his attention to Tobirama only to see those lovely red eyes fixed on his chest with dilated pupils. And, look, it would have taken a much stronger man than Madara not to preen at that hot, hungry gaze fixed on his chest as he wiped the worst of the sweat away and pulled on a shirt – perhaps belting it a bit more loosely than normally at the sight of how much Tobirama like the way he looked.

“Dinner?” Madara said, offering his arm to his Center and thrilled at the way that Tobirama all but plastered himself to Madara; hopefully this meant that in a few days when the fan was done and the clan was cleansed Tobirama would accept the marriage fan – his brother would be so relived; at least until he realized now he was going to run into them kissing all over the place if Madara was allowed….

Chapter Text

Poor Izuna spent all of dinner looked at them through squinty eyes, clearly trying to figure something out to Tobirama’s amusement (though how the Uchiha couldn’t see that Tobirama was floating on cloud nine the albino didn’t know given that Tobirama was fairly sure he had never experienced this many endorphins all at once) but it wasn’t until after dinner was over and Madara trailed his fingers over the back of Tobirama’s neck as he picked up dishes and Izuna shot up right, holding out one hand and pointing at them with a loud “Ah-ha! You-! You totally – you” he paused and something very strange happened to his face, twisting in on itself as his arm drooped “you – oh kami you like, kissed or something didn’t you. Tobirama saw you in the glass studio and jumped you didn’t he. Oh gods why did I have to know that, I don’t want to know that….ugh, like your PDA was fine because your cakra is so pretty together but I don’t know if it makes up for this mental image.”

Tobirama was laughing so hard he couldn’t breath and Madara’s guffaws echoed out of the kitchen as Izuna’s face screwed up in disgust, Madara remerged wiping his hands and went straight to Tobirama, bending down and planting a kiss on Tobirama’s lips that quickly got hot and opened mouthed as they forgot their audience – at least until Izuna squawking got loud enough it was hard to ignore; though Tobirama was willing to try and do it anyway until Madara pulled back regretfully, stroking the side of his face. “I need to have a talk with my brother in the gardens, you good?” he asked low voiced to Izuna’s whimpers and Tobirama smirked, signing ‘Don’t throw him in the pond love’ and blinking in surprise when Madara flushed hard and grinned like an idiot. Kissing him one more time and then dragging his brother away as Tobirama stood and headed to his study, ready to look at it again before he started the cleansing tomorrow as Madara had agreed on.

What he needed to figure out was where the incense was coming from he decided after a bit (and he needed to get away from the temptation to test it on himslef - he really was working on his impulse control), standing to go find Madara and Izuna and ask them to look into it or if they knew, but as he approached the engawa he could see them sitting on it, Madara smoking his pipe with Izuna leaning against his shoulder quietly, the younger Uchiha’s sharpsoral-lightningsparks chakra oddly damped down. Frowning slightly Tobirama slipped out and sat on the other side of Izuna, glancing at Madara over the younger Uchiha’s head and flicking his chakra questioningly. Madara grimaced slight and eased his brother closer, murmuring something to the younger and then looking up at Tobirama when he got some kind of inaudible conformation. “Izuna…He got to know Hashirama rather well and he didn’t know about Mito” Madara said softly, squeezing his brother’s shoulder; it took a minute for the dots to connect but when they did Tobirama sucked in a sharp breath, he hadn’t had any idea that – but then again neither did Hashirama probably. Fuck, poor Izuna, there was basically no way to get around the marriage but Tobirama had never wanted his little brother hurt (and yes, Tobirama was a few months younger than Izuna, didn’t matter, Izuna was the younger brother).

Slowly, somewhat uncertainly Tobirama shifted closer until their sides were pressed together warmly, and Izuna was sagging into him, finally signing after a long time, ‘If it matters I think you would be good for him’ unsure if this was the right thing to say or should be said at all. Luckily Izuna laughed wetly, swatting weakly at Tobirama’s hands, “You’re terrible at this, just give me a hug and shut up ok?” ruthfully Tobirama did as he was told and wrapped his arm around the Uchiha. Settling in to sit quietly for a few hours in the cool evening air as Madara smoked his sweet smelling herbs.

Eventually Izuna sniffled sharply and swiped at his face, scrubbing it with his hands and turning to look at Tobirama, “So what did you come looking for anyway?” he asked Tobirama, clearly not wanting to talk about it which Tobirama could respect. ‘I need to know where the nin-miko get the incense’ he signed, watching the brother’s exchanged troubled looks, “The – the Elders I think, traditionally they provide for the shrine” Izuna answered slowly, “why?” Tobirama clicked his tongue worriedly. ‘There is agarwood in it- as there should be- but there is a high component of a plant matter I don’t recognize – and I have never run into a plant I couldn’t identify before. I’d like to send a sample with a summons to Growing-tree and see if he can identify it, but it would also help to trace it to the origin.’ “So you are fairly sure that is where the tar is coming from?” Madara asked, looking grim as Tobirama nodded and he swore under his breath, blowing out a plume of smoke through his teeth like a dragon. “Hells, one of us will ask in the morning and find out for you” he promised, putting out his pipe with a soft hiss “com’on little brother, lets get you to bed and all tucked up, if you’re good I’ll even read you a story, maybe the story of Matatabi eats mushroom, I know you used to love that one.”

Izuna whined, high pitched and sullen but went with his brother and the spark of interest at the idea of story was undeniable. Madara paused to give Tobirama a chaste kiss before taking his brother upstairs to tuck into bed; kami, what a mess, Tobirama needed to have a conversation with Mito as soon as possible. With a deep sigh he dragged himslef up right, heading up stairs and pausing near Izuna door to hear Madara’s dep voice reading in the sing-song cadence of a childs book; “but Matatabi had walked into Zetsu’s part of the forest which was dark and thick and full of unspeakable goo and would make her paws all sticky and gross too! She had been told not to go so far and to never go near Zetsu’s lair no matter the mushrooms and how yummy they seemed or how brightly they gleamed, for Zetsu was old and Zetsu was mean and Zetsu wanted and wanted anything to make real it’s dream” well, this was a creepy book “’Zetsu it’s said was born when the moon was placed in the sky, a little shadow left behind to cry and to cry. But don’t feel too bad for Zetsu I say! For Zetsu was crying as mockingbirds cry and wanted only to pull the moon back out of the sky. So Zetsu it searched and Zetsu it looked for the strongest of powers left on this earth and found the first Uchiha at the moment of their birth! Uchiha were great and Uchiha were strong’” at that Tobirama bit his lip sharply to hold back his laughter, such a typically Uchiha sentiment!

Rolling his eyes and thoroughly amused Tobirama continued on to his room and bed, hoping he dreamed of Madara in the glass studio and not the creepy children’s book.

Madara smoothed his hand over Izuna’s hair, closing the old story book- practically an heirloom, lore said it was even Indra Uchiha that wrote it- they had had as children before Kou had died and Madara had become heir but not without taking one last look at the illustration of a little rolly-polly bijuu Matatabi about to take a big bite out of a nice looking mushroom as a grinning back shape leaned out around another tree and watched with reflective white eyes. Kami it had been a long time since he had looked at this book, it was creepier than he remembered but it seemed to make his brother happier and that was all Madara cared about right now, given that he had made Izuna cry for the first time in years tonight (Madara had hoped to catch the affection before it hit this point but – kami unless Izuna and Mito took a liking to each other as well there was no way out of it), he thought that it was still early enough that Izuna would recover but it still – it still hurt to do that to the brother he adored.

At Tobirama’s door he hesitated for a moment, wanting to go to his Center and get a hug but knowing that Tobirama needed all the rest he could get to start cleansing the clan tomorrow and Madara would see him soon enough; after all if everything went right Madara could have the fan finished tomorrow or the day after and then give it to Tobirama as soon as he recovered and then Madara might even get a big Uchiha wedding and Tobirama in his bed with him every night! That would be wonderful, the one night they spent together when Tobirama first arrived had been the best sleep Madara had gotten in years and he craved having that back. Soon, soon and kami being kind – and Tobirama willing (Madara thought that wanting was maybe something he could be confident in).

That night his dreams were a strange mix of the shadowy illustrations from the story book and the feel of Tobirama in his arms with the smell of hot glass filling his nose almost hiding the softer scent of weapons oil and ink and jasmine tea and the rosehip sun oil Tobirama used. It was a slightly disturbing mix that left Madara craving his Center’s presence and calming touch and it wasn’t a surprise when before breakfast as they waited for Izuna Tobirama cupped his face and turned Madara to look him in chakra filled eyes; eyes through which Madara could see the complicated matrix of Tobirama’s chakra spelling out the poetry of his soul. Pomes Madara wanted to whisper into dark nights like honey dripping from his lips, the curling scent of night jasmine and the steady beat drums under calling woodwinds, the loyalty of an unbending soul and the ever fast rush of Tobirama’s thoughts, swarming around Madara’s more collected, one-track mind like a school of lighting-bright fishes and all of it calling him back; Centering him in who and where he was until Madara felt better in his skin than he could remember since the last time they did this.

“Oh, come on!” Izuna’s loud whine pulled them out of their fixed gaze even though Madara knew he had been there for a bit now and has been giving them time to finish. Madara rolled his eyes and leaned in for a chaste kiss, pulling back and waving his brother to sit with them, “Oh hush you, where have you been this early in the morning?” Madara asked snarkily, pouring his brother tea. At that Izuna’s amusement evaporated and he flopped to sit down at the table, tapping his fingers and chewing at his lip, “It – I asked the nin-miko about where the incense comes from and it – Mada it’s provided by Yamatohime, she leaves it at the shrine every day before the ceremony, she has for years.” And just like that Madara’s heart dropped, he had at least trusted that Yamatohime would be neutral in her dealing with him and Tobirama and had thought that seeing Madara with Center-shaded eyes had changed how she saw him for the better and now this?

A light tap on his arm pulled Madara out of his spiral to look at his Center as Tobirama signed, ‘Try to wait to come to conclusions, her chakra didn’t feel like the that sort of person; wait until the clan is clean and then confront the Elders about it, they don’t know we know anything right now and as long as they don’t and just think this is a routine health check want to perform for Hagoromo poisons we can still catch them once the clan is safe.’ Madara pursed his lips unhappily but nodded, Tobirama wasn’t wrong after all and they had enough to do today without fixating on that. “Alright, food and then Izuna can start bring groups for you to work on, starting with the children” Madara said finally, picking up his chop sticks as his brother squawked “Why me?!” and Madara smirked at him, finishing his rice before he responded. “Well if you want to stay her and watch me kiss my Center for a bit of time before we have to go to work now that I can you are more than welcome too.”

Immediately Izuna’s face twisted in disgust and he started shoveling down his food at a blinding rate, enough so Tobirama looked concerned that he was going to choke and Madara hid his snickering in his breakfast; all was right with his world - or as right as it could be with Izuna hurting and his clan still recovering.

Chapter Text

Tobirama currently was pressed up against the wall with Madara’s tongue in his mouth kissing like they were running out of time, not like they had all the time in the world. Once again one of Tobirama’s legs had hitched up around Madara’s waist without his thinking, quickly joined by the other which got him a lovely groan and shudder as Tobirama kneaded his hands in that lovely long hair. (What did he need to do to marry this man? Did they have to do the full Senju thing? Tobirama would rather skip that if he could, maybe the Uchiha way was simpler? Or better yet maybe Centering had skipped them past some steps and – oh, oh kami, that thing with Madara’s tongue -) Madara’s hands curled around Tobirama’s rear and he gasped, head snapping back has he struggled to get enough air in around the sensation, that, that felt, oooohhhh, kami bless. If he could he would be whimpering and as it was he was making tiny hissing-high pitched, breathy noise he hadn’t known he could make but that seemed to make Madara loose it a little with the way he was sucking on Tobirama’s neck under his ear above his shirt was anything to go by (that was going to mark, Tobirama loved it).

Madara hitched him higher, grinding their hips together and – from outside there was a loud booming knock, and Madara swore bitterly into Tobirama’s throat as his brother’s voice echoed through the house. “Ok big brother! Time to come out and treat the children! They are waiting for you in the hot sun and only an asshole would keep them waiting” a pause “and Kagami is asking about Tobirama” and that. Fuck. Tobirama didn’t want to let his Uchiha go but reluctantly he did so, untangling his fingers as Madara muttered into the albino’s throat and held him tightly for a second before letting him down slowly, leaning his brow on the wall behind Tobirama and clearly trying to catch his breath and cool his blood so his mantle fell correctly. Not that Tobirama wasn’t doing the same thing, working hard to settle the arousal he felt and calm down enough to see children even though he could feel bruises blooming on the fair skin of his throat (he wanted to press them). Soothingly Tobirama rubbed his hands up and down Madara’s arms and finger combed his hair into something less wild, fingers catching on the braids he had added that Madara had asked him to do again.

Finally Madara heaved a great sigh and pulled back, shuddering when Tobirama took the opportunity to brush his mouth over the edge of Madara’s jaw, “Not helping celestial” Madara muttered straightening Tobirama’s haori and setting a hand on his lower back as they started for the front door and the waiting clan.

As promised the children were waiting outside and Tobirama settled on the engawa, waving forward one at a time to clean out their coils which took blessedly little time as they had little enough contamination. As he worked he lost track of time and everything but Madara’s coming and going and when the children were finished he waved Izuna himslef over rather than starting on the next group, Izuna blinked in surprise but didn’t argue; letting Tobirama cleanse him sharply even though he was starting to feel winded and cleaning all of it out of Izuna was exhausting, he was so contaminated. “Oh” Izuna breathed when Tobirama was finished “I feel…I hadn’t even realized how off I felt, dirty and off balance and foggy and now its just – gone” and with that the last lingering reluctance of the clan vanished and every one of the teens came to Tobirama without argument.

At some point Madara sat behind him and poured chakra into him, just enough that it was invigorating without making him melt like a cat in sunlight, before murmuring “I’m going to go finish my project in the studio, Izuna will stay with you is that ok? We’ll do the Elders and whatever adults you don’t get to today tomorrow so don’t burn yourself out ok?” Tobirama nodded absently, tipping his head back for a chaste kiss and then losing himslef in the rhythm of cleaning coils of tar and adjusting them back toward stability. As long as new interference wasn’t introduced the coils should heal and finish the cleansing on their own as long as Tobirama cleared the metaphorical clog and showed them where the infection was.

Madara watched his Center work for a long moment, drinking in the sight of his albino working to save his clan, and scanning his gathered kin for any dissenters even though Izuna was leaning near Tobirama and Kikiyo was watching from nearby. It didn’t look like anyone was planning to pull anything and the clan as a whole was getting more and more convinced as each was cleaned and commented on how much better they felt; it was good enough that he felt he could slip away to finish the last two ribs of Tobirama’s fan and then tomorrow he could put it all together. Feeling a bit better Madara slipped away and focused on finishing the last two ribs and setting them to cool before he went to find his Center, mouth pressing into a thin line as he saw how late it had gotten and that Tobirama as still working through the last few adults of a group. Behind him Izuna’s mouth was set in an unhappy line and Madara sent his brother a sharp look as he noticed the sheen of sweat on Tobirama’s brow and clear exhaustion painting lines on his face, “Izuna…” his brother shook his head sharply, “He said he wanted to finish this group” his brother told him low voiced “it didn’t help that Hiderou mouthed off when he was getting fixed up. Asshole.” Madara felt his temper flare and took a deep breath to calm it, “What did he say?” Madara snapped, waiting as Tobirama finished working on Chura.

Izuna’s lip curled and his anger was clear to see “Nothing I could get him for, not really, just sideways comments about the White Demon and his use to the clan. Implications, Tobirama seemed to ignore them but he has refused to stop since.” Madara nodded sharply, already planning on what he was going to do to Hiderou to make the man hurt as he stepped forward and waved the last few worried looking Uchiha away with a promise of “Tomorrow”. They bowed to both of them and slipped away as Tobirama swayed, a frown pulling at his brow until he saw Madara and it turned into a stupidly happy smile that melted Madara’s ire like snow in front of a katon. Long hands flew up and made grabby hands at the Uchiha and Madara couldn’t- didn’t want to- resist, bending down to lift his Center and cuddle his exhausted albino into his chest, thrilled at the little tongue chirr that Tobirama made as he cuddled close.

“Com’on” Madara crooned “lets get you fed and to bed celestial, you’ve had a long day” Tobirama nodded into his shoulder – or well, that could have just been a nuzzle but Madara was taking it as agreement. “How much of the clan did he get through?” Madara asked his brother, Izuna looking relived now that Madara was there, “Over half, about two thirds? All the ones with lighter contamination, he got very fast at it after awhile when the contamination isn’t thick. Enough he can finish it all tomorrow though we might want the Elders to wait until day after to give him more time to recover, they should be almost as bad as you and I.” Madara nodded, coaxing his Center into the house and to the dinner table, giving up and settling Tobirama in his lap rather than expecting him to stay up right on his own in his state of exhaustion.

Dinner was quiet and fast as Madara hand fed Tobirama as the albino dozed against him and as soon as he had eaten enough to satisfy Madara he stood, picking up his slender Center and promising to come find his brother when Tobirama was in bed. It was a little harder to get Tobirama settled than Madara had anticipated, given that Tobirama didn’t want to let him go and pouted every time Madara pulled away until he finally promised to come back and sleep with him after he said good night to his brother and sealed it with a kiss. That made Tobirama subside, still looking a little wide-eyed and sad but not clinging to the ends of Madara’s hair as the Uchiha slipped out to say good night to Izuna.

“Finally get free?” Izuna asked as he sipped tea on the engawa out back and Madara searched his brother for the pain he knew Izuna was hiding about Hashirama but the sharp look that the younger Uchiha gave him told him clearly he didn’t want to talk about it. Madara sighed silently and nodded, letting it go as his brother wanted, “I’ll be in his room tonight if you need me” he admitted and Izuna smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at Madara who rolled his eyes and swatted gently at his brother. “Not like that you little creatin, he’s exhausted, my chakra just makes him feel better and he needs the best rest he can get before tomorrow.” Izuna sobered and looked down at his tea as Madara continued more seriously “Did you see anything? Your summons? How are the Elders reacting? It felt like they all stayed away but Kasai and Tonica who came to watch for a bit when I checked with my sensing.” Izuna shook his head, “The Elders did nothing, the only problem was Hiderou and he was just insulting, my summons haven’t reported back yet but I just…..” he trailed off, “ever feel like there’s something in the shadows? Something watching you? Like being in the shrine and I always thought it was Amaterasu-okami keeping watch over us but….now I wonder, I wonder what is in those shadows now after all of this and how this all happened to the clan.”

Madara winced, a chill slithering down his spine at his brother’s words, the way the touched on things that Madara had always ignored until-, “Its harder to ignore when your coils are clean isn’t it.” The older Uchiha murmured and Izuna winced, shifting where he sat with a muttered “yeah” then he pulled in a deep breath and tossed back the last of his tea “Go cuddle your albino brother, there’s plenty to do tomorrow without borrowing problems.” Madara laughed softly and stood, resting a hand on Izuna’s shoulder and squeezing gently before releasing his brother and going upstairs to his sleeping Center.

In his room Tobirama was only dozing and his eyes slit open the second Madara opened the door, hand slipping out from under the blanket and lip poking out as Madara laughed and shed everything but his pants, tying his hair back a little to keep it out of Tobirama’s face as they slept before sliding into bed with the albino. Within seconds Tobirama was twined around him like a creeper vine, nuzzling into Madara’s throat and hair and sighing as his whole body relaxed into Madara and the passive chakra Madara had relaxed his hold on since Tobirama liked him so much. Smoothing a hand down Tobirama’s back Madara smiled stupidly up at the dark celling, relishing the closeness and comfort. Thrilled that Tobirama trusted him and loved him (Tobirama had called him ‘love’!), the answer to the hole in Madara’s heart that had existed for longer than Madara could remember; calming the raging fire of his soul and giving objective to the passion that had tormented Madara his whole life. With Tobirama he was given a place and a purpose and a center in his Center; feeling like he was feeling peace for the first time in what felt like lifetimes.

Chapter Text

Morning came too early, but is also came with Madara kisses so Tobirama wasn’t as grumpy about it as he could have been – especially since Madara wasn’t wearing a shirt and Tobirama had no one telling him he couldn’t skate his hands over all those lovely muscles, feeling them flex under his hands as the broader Uchiha covered him, leaning on his arms as they kissed and Tobirama traced the lines of his fluttering abdominals . Madara ripped his mouth away with a moan, gasping out “Ah – not, fuck, fair, celestial – oh kami that feels –“ delighted Tobirama latched his teeth on the straining tendon in Madara’s neck, biting a mark there to match his under his ear with his over-sharp teeth, the Uchiha shuddered and collapsed into Tobirama with a deep moan, the weight of him momentarily derailing Tobirama’s thoughts with the sheer delight of the feeling (that, oh kami he was so strong, Tobirama wanted to follow the lines of those muscles with his tongue).

And then there was a pounding on their door and Izuna yelling loudly, Kikiyo laughing in the background, “TIME TO GET UP LOVEBIRDS. WE HAVE WORK TO DO TODAY” there was a pause and then Madara muttered, “What did he do, put wax in his ears?” making Tobirama laugh breathily as Madara reluctantly pulled himself up and away with a few more lingering kisses “either way the sooner we get this done the sooner it is behind us.”  Tobirama wrinkled his nose, he was still exhausted after yesterday and all he wanted was to just spend the day in bed with Madara but it wouldn’t do to leave the clan in a lurch. This needed to be done and Tobirama would do it so he dragged himslef out of his bed and into to the wash room for a quick wash, dressing in his blacks and fur mantle and fitting his happuri to his face as he always did, tucking a few chakra pills in his seal bracelet before going down to breakfast when Izuna eyed him and Madara like he was expecting something and it actually took him a bit to realize he probably thought that Madara and he had had sex (which….Tobirama actually wanted to do, for possibly the first time ever). Arching an eyebrow Tobirama signed ‘Did you actually put wax in your ears Weasel-brother?’ and Izuna flushed awkwardly, hands going instinctively to his ears as Madara snickered.

“I am going to the studio once you’re set up, I can’t wait to show you my project, is that ok? I’d rather be done soon enough that I can come support you at the end.” Madara’s eyes on him were warm and worried and Tobirama couldn’t help smiling at his love as he nodded, getting settled and finishing Kikiyo and Hikaku first and then going to the general population, losing himself in the pattern of the work and only absently tipping his head back for a kiss before Madara slipped away. It was increasingly difficult work the longer the tar had been building in their coils and though Tobirama was more than capable of doing it it was wearing and Tobirama could feel himslef falling into an old mindset from when Father was alive where all discomfort and exhaustion was shoved off to the side to be dealt with later when the job was done. (What was Elder Chiaki doing here? The Elders weren’t going to be done until tomorrow, was she just watching? No she was already leaving and feeling…strange, conflicted and afraid? But Tobirama couldn’t track her when he was focusing on cleansing another Uchiha, he would have to hope Izuna was watching.)

The Uchiha before him bowed and backed away, chakra conflicted with gratitude and anger (Tobirama had killed a relative of his, he recognized the family chakra) and was replaced with another, Tobirama losing himself in the flow of chakra and his own flagging energy. “Hey” Madara’s voice was soft and affectionate as he crouched next to Tobirama “take a break? You’re looking peaky To’ra, just stand up and stretch your legs and eat something?” slowly Tobirama nodded, letting Madara help him to his feet and hand him onigiri as they walked out into the sun in the square, the albino leaning heavily on him and drifting quietly, very much enjoying the bright happy warmth of Madara’s chakra, clearly he was happy about his project being done from the feel of his chakra and Tobirama just wanted to bask in it as he gathered energy.

At least until he felt a much hated chakra behind him and stiffened, about to turn and confront the Elder when he heard (it was a henge, a small voice in the back of his head whispered, just a well done henge, but he was so tired) his Father’s voice behind him, Butsuma snarling “Tobirama, stand up straight” and like a switch his body reacted (…wait, no, this-) “Tobirama, report.” And his mouth was moving without thought (but….how had he known?) and from a long, long ways away Tobirama saw Madara’s eyes fasten on his moving lips and the horrible little croaking noises that were slipping past his lips. Saw those dark eyes turn electric violet and red and the chakra he loved so much twist, trying to rip itself apart at the sight and sound and –

Tobirama’s hand moved on nothing but instinct, kunai blocking the blade that was trying to cut Madara’s throat and leaving him with only a small cut (a match in placement if not depth to Tobirama’s ironically) and he heard Izuna scream just as the tip of a second blade burst through Madara’s chest in an explosion of blood and gore. Yire behind the clan head with a twisted expression on his face as he stabbed Madara in the heart.

Madara - the world was washed in red and Madara cared not about the body in front of him, another expendable shinobi until, silver shards of a sword cutting through pale skin, slicing elegant pale hands to ribbons, a rush of red in the air, a gapping red wound with glimpses of lighter-tissue, blood coating a pale, slashed hand and neck and blue breastplate, thin bubbles of blood at the corners of thin pale lips as blood flooded his airway, red, slanted eyes met his and Madara’s world shifted – there was a blade near his throat and all he could see was blank red eyes and – pain – like a lighting bolt as another blade punched through his chest. Falling, falling into his Center as behind him the someone screamed and his back was soaked in blood, frantic voices as something slipped out of his robes and landed in the dirt, covered in his blood. A loud sound near his head followed by a big cat grabbing him by his mantle as his world fuzzed around the edges, the only thing he could see was eyes the color of blood and cold as a frozen blade as death closed in around him.

Tobirama sent Noriaki away to the Senju compound and his brother, the best healer that Tobirama knew and the only person with even a chance of healing a pierced heart. The large Persian leopard would take Madara to Hashirama and his only chance to live – if he wasn’t already dead when he got there and in the meantime; well Tobirama had cleansed one clan, he could do another.

The ground where Yire had stood was soaked with the blood Tobirama had yanked out of him and without question Tobirama did the same to Hiderou, closing his hand in a fist and ripping the man’s blood out through his pores (this man had tried to kill Madara, tried to slit his throat – Tobirama had no compassion for such a man), light glinting on something that had fallen out of Madara’s robes and – oh – looking up at the rest of the Uchiha around with eyes as wild and cold as any Sharingan burned hot. In seconds the Uchiha vanished from the square and only Izuna and Kikiyo stood between him and what he had to do; “Where is my brother?” Izuna asked, voice broken and confused as Tobirama signed ‘Growing-tree, beast healer in the five countries.’ And Izuna sagged a little in relief, stiffening when Tobirama added ‘They are mine, I have done it once and I will do it again’ placatingly Izuna help up his hands, his shadow long and flickering in the light of the setting sun, “Tobirama, stop, think about this-“ Tobirama snarled, bearing his teeth and hissing at Izuna as his chakra flared and he unsealed his chakra pills, popping two and pulling out his weapon – this was a perfect time to test it, after all there was a certain symmetry to it what with all the Elders gathered in their hut, no doubt for Yashiro to claim the leadership of the clan now that Madara was – might be – no, no. Just no.

Bearing his teeth Tobirama held up the glass construct that had fallen out of Madara’s robes, shining glass and glittering mythological creatures covered in his love’s heartsblood. Izuna’s face turned white as paper and he stumbled back a step, no longer a threat as Tobirama turned to Kikiyo and slammed her with his chakra, dropping her to the ground in a pile of silk and getting her out of the way as he stalked towards the Elders.

The compound was a ghost town and Tobirama spread his chakra out looking for any that felt like dissenters other than his chosen Elders (start with Yashiro and his cronies, then Yamatohime for setting all this up, than anyone else that got in his way). He stalked through the compound, footsteps kicking up dust until he hit the door to the Elder’s hall, two signs and a water dragon sent the door  exploding in, soaking the ground around them as many of the Elders leapt to their feet and Yashiro turned to the door with a sneer, hissing at the gathered Uchiha around the edges to “stop him!” with a flicker of chakra the Raijin no Ken ignited from the hilt down and he bared his teeth again, signing one handed ‘You took him from me, my loadstar, my Uchiha, my everything, you took him and you thought I wouldn’t rain down hell on you?’ on cue the clouds that he had been pulling to them since he popped the chakra pills opened up and a torrential rain slammed down on the hall, so loud it would be hard to hear spoke words.

As a group most of the Uchiha nin drew back, Tobirama didn’t care, the few that were still coming at him died as their blood was ripped out or with Raijin no Ken burning through vital points in their bodies. There wasn’t many of the guards that were willing to face Tobirama and it was easy enough to whirl to the side and shove Raijin no Ken through Yumi’s lungs, ruining them to die slowly for what she had tried to do to Madara once upon a time, wishing for once he could speak so he could tell her why he had made it so painful for her. In a spinning wave of blood tinged water Tobirama spun and wrapped it around Yashiro’s favorite Masaru to drown, facing the leader of the insurrection surrounded by bloody water as more poured in through the broken door.

‘Who else?’ Tobirama a signed, sharp and harsh and almost against his will Yashiro’s eyes flicked to Chiaki (of course, of course he would have needed to know about the conditioning from somewhere and though Chiaki didn’t explain it all- how did he know the second trigger existed? He could see how the man would guess what it was, but how did he know it existed?- it did explain it) and then to Takao who was shrinking into the wall and terrified and then dead as ice senbon speared him through. Cold and bloody Tobirama turned back to Yashiro, glancing at Chiaki and debating what he wanted, she was after all related to Madara but – in the distance Madara’s chakra was draining away and going cold and Tobirama put the Raijin no Ken through her throat without a thought, still facing Yashiro and calling to his blood and squeezing until he could see the raw terror in the old man’s eyes as Tobirama controlled every beat of his heart, stopped the flow of blood to his brain, flicking Raijin no Ken to cut off his legs as the man’s mouth opened and closed, looking fish like as he tried to force words out without blood.

‘You took him from me’  Tobirama signed again ‘if I could I would kill you as slowly and painfully as loosing him will kill me but I can’t, so you get to die like this instead’ it was slow but the hut was dead silent until his body gave out and Tobirama didn’t bring him back at the last moment, turning bloody eyes on Yamatohime who was watching everything with an oddly vindicated look. The Raijin no Ken snapped and hissed with movement and the water starting to drip through the celling, ‘You supplied the incense’ Tobirama’s fingers were starting to hurt and his chakra was aching so he popped another pill, ‘you-‘ “Tobirama!” Izuna’s shout stilled his approach to the Elder and he shifted slightly to see his little brother entering the hall, soaking wet and going pale at the massacre he found before he focused on Tobirama “Tobirama, it wasn’t her, Iwoa said that Yashiro was switching the incense because of a shadow.” On his shoulder the weasel chittered “it wasn’t her, she had nothing to do with it, or with Mad-Madara” bloody eyes swung back to the Elder who smoothed her kimono and stood slowly only to kneel in front of Tobirama’s feet, regal and graceful.

“I swear to you Tobirama-sama, if there was something strange about the incense I didn’t know it. And on the kami above I swear I would never have conspired against my clan head, not the clan head that has Centered, not when his Center has proven themselves so strongly – the Uchiha have long known that a Center-feral Uchiha is to be feared, now we know a Uchiha lost-Center can be just as terrifying. It honors the strength of your bond that you would become so for his sake” Tobirama stared at her for a long moment, aware that her words were for the rest of the Uchiha and saving Tobirama’s place with the clan, turning his rampage into something honored Ma-ma- his –

Raijin no Ken deactivated with a snap and for a long moment Tobirama just stood in the dripping water and blood, letting the storm above shift into something more natural, feeling empty and cold in the absence of a driving purpose. (Had there been others in the clan that needed to be ferreted out? He should probably leave that for Kikiyo as she knew where clan better than he did and he had done enough damage.) Numbly he unsealed the glinting glass that had fallen from Madara’s robes, the mythical creatures glittering behind the scarlet blood smeared over the glass Senju wedding fan.

Chapter Text

Tobirama tucked away the Raijin no Ken, focused on the fan that Madara had made for him (and he had, Tobirama could feel Madara’s chakra lingering in it), his mind oddly blank and silent. “Tobirama” that was Izuna, his little brother, Tobirama had to pay attention to his little brother and slowly he pulled his eyes from the blood stained glass to blink at the Uchiha who inched closer, eyes red and spinning, “can we – Yamatohime and Kikiyo can deal with things here, can we go check on Madara please? Please?” how did Tobirama tell him that Madara’s chakra was going cold and still and he wasn’t sure if it was still there at all or Tobirama was just imagining it? Hallucinations like the ones he used to have of his other little brother’s chakra’s. Silently Tobirama held up a hand, cutting his thumb on his sharp eyeteeth and slamming it down to summon another of his leopards to take them the fastest way (he never asked this of them except in emergencies but his own jutsu to do this wasn’t done).

Akira took one look at him and said nothing, waiting as Tobirama knotted his hand in her ruff and then Izuna scurried to do the same, Iwoa still perched on his shoulder as around them time and space twisted and bent through the reverse summoning. The sound of Akira appearing was louder than normal with both Tobirama and Izuna hanging off her and Tobirama turned in the direction of his brother’s chakra, heading to Hashirama without a second thought or acknowledging Mito where she stood in front of the room that Madara was in except to grab at her blood with his fading chakra and hissing angrily. Mito gasped and stiffened, glancing over at them and her eyes widened further at the sight of them, raising her hands as best she could, “I – I’m not a threat to him! I know my cousin was an idiot but I swear I wouldn’t touch him” she promised and Izuna’s eyes narrowed, “You wouldn’t have a chance” he snapped, turning toward the door and knocking, Tobirama brushing past him and pushing the door open to slip in where Hashirama was bent over Madara.

Madara's upper clothing was cut off him and his neck was already healed to a thin white line but the puncture through his chest….Hashirama covered it with a bandage and glanced at Tobirama, his face pale with fatigue but not the dead white of Madara. “Tobi” he breathed opening his mouth as if to say something when his eyes fell on the wedding fan in Tobirama’s hand, and he paled a shade further “oh” he breathed “oh Tobi. I –“ he visibly collected himslef “he’s….alive-ish, still, for now. I had to do some drastic measures to keep him alive and I don’t know – I don’t know if it will be enough to keep him that way.” it was nothing Tobirama couldn’t have guessed and he still just – feeling numb he drifted forward and sat next to Madara on the bed, smoothing his wild hair and then curling up against him with the bloody fan tucked to the albino’s chest like a promise; brow pressed to Madara’s shoulder before going completely still as the last energy drained out of him and all but the faint flicker of minkfurclovmagma vanished from his perception as he drifted in silence.

Hashirama stared at his brother, Tobirama’s long slim body curled against Madara’s side and utterly still but for the shifting of his ribs. Behind him someone made a choked noise and Hashirama whipped around, mokuton rising within him until he saw Izuna Uchiha; sopping wet and stricken with a familiar white noddle-cat on his shoulder. For a second Hashirama was taken off balance by the sight of his noodle-cat on Izuna’s shoulder and then the pieces fell into place and his heart lurched; it was Izuna who had heard his secrets and kept them, it was Izuna who had known and poked Hashirama to give Tobirama a fan anyway, it was Izuna who had soothed him when Hashirama was overcome and encouraged him and accepted him and – and it was Izuna who’s brother was now lying still and silent on that bed, far, far too near death for anyone’s comfort. “Izuna” Hashirama murmured, inching closer, hand twitching to reach out and finally tentatively setting a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, a little shocked when Izuna turned into him and buried his face in Hashirama’s kimono; shoulders shaking with sobs.

(Behind them Mito’s eyes narrowed and she cocked her head as she looked at the two men, was this-? Hmm, this would bear some more observing but perhaps she should take some time to get to know the younger Uchiha brother if this was the way things were; after all Mito was above all else a practical woman and she could make something like this work. She scanned the two men together and nodded to herself, she could definitely make this work if they could – and she was reading it right.)

Trying to keep in mind Madara’s instructions Hashirama wrapped his arms gently around the sobbing Izuna, rocking them side to side and crooning a little as he tucked the oddly dainty feeling Uchiha closer, “He’ll be ok” Hashirama murmured “he’s very strong and he has you and Tobi to come back to, he’ll make it back we just have to be patent and wait for him.” “And ke-eep Tobi alive, we lose him we lose Mada too” Izuna hiccupped into his shoulder and Hashirama winced, glancing at his brother, “Yeah, that too” Hashirama breathed, stomach twisting painfully “that too.”

Izuna was a little embarrassed at how long it took him to get his shit together and pull away from Hashirama, taking the handkerchief that the Uzumaki-hime held out to him with a kind expression and wiping at his face gratefully as the woman sent him an understanding look (she really was lovely, Izuna could see how she would be good with Hashirama). “You sure he’s stable?” Izuna asked Hashirama, staring at his brother as the big Senju nodded, “As stable as he can get, I even gave him a small dose of my cells to increase the healing on his heart but it was pierced clean through so it will take time and–“  a hesitation “-and I don’t know if the cells will take, and he’ll pull through. I’ve discussed this procedure with Tobi before but I have never done it so – I just don’t know.” Which – was not what Izuna wanted to hear but, fuck, he appreciated the honesty anyway; he just wished Tobirama wasn’t also nearly comatose from chakra exhaustion and emotional turmoil.

“Izuna, I – I hate to ask this of you right now, but what in the hells happened?” Hashirama asked, looking stressed and Izuna felt himslef lock up a bit even as the Uzumaki-hime laid a hand on his arm. “In a minute Hashirama, Izuna, would some tea help first? We can go to the engawa and shut the door and then your brother will be right there and have some tea while you get your breath back and then you can explain if you feel up to it.” she – Izuna really wanted to hate her but kami she was making it hard to do that. Dumbly he nodded and let himslef be led out to the engawa, sat by the heater as Hashirama fussed around him and the Uzumaki-hime returned before long with a teapot that smelled strongly of chamomile and lavender which almost but not quite hid the scent of valerian root; all calming herbs that if Izuna was being honest he could really use.

A cup of tea and the soft chittering of Iwoa in his ear later Izuna was feeling a bit more stable and like he could explain. Softly he set down the tea cup with a faint click, tracing the pattern on the porcelain as he spoke, “For years there has been this one Elder that has tried to undermine Madara and wanted to take over the clan- he was a cousin of our father’s and thought he should have got the headship- but there has never been any opening until Madara Centered on Tobirama and he joined the clan. There are a lot that were glad for Madara – or at least glad he’s not about to go Center-feral and mostly have accepted him, the children certainly have, and Yashiro-“ Hashirama inhaled sharply, fury flickering over his face as the wood under then flexed threateningly (so he knew about his little brother then) but he said nothing and after a moment Izuna continued “-he tried to confront Tobirama and – well that went poorly for him as you can imagine and I think it enraged Yashiro, not to mention the fact the old man was terrified of Tobirama to make it worse and he had a few of the Elder’s on his side. And then – one of the Elders that was at the treaty signing saw Tobirama when we accidentally triggered him and then; well she got frightened by him and his power over Madara and Yashiro got to her and she told him about what she saw.”

Izuna paused to drink more tea and take a deep breath before he went on “Knowing Tobirama’s weakness like that and knowing that if Tobirama was exhausted- like after trying to heal the whole clan from the tar in our coils- he could trigger it and triggering it would incapacitate Madara; he found out there was a second trigger and guessed what it was- probably based on what he would have used, the fucking asshole was a lot like what I know of Butsuma- and that it would be perfect to set Madara’s chakra into turmoil and Center-feral again.” he glanced at Hashirama and could see that the Senju had put the pieces together about the second trigger word and how seeing Tobirama trying and failing to talk would effect Madara. “And then when Madara was vulnerable- literally the only time Yashiro could have ever gotten to Madara’s back since he was like elven- two of his lackies tried to kill him. One tried to cut Madara’s throat and the other – the other put his sword through my brother’s heart.” His voice had gotten mechanical by the end and he gulped and other cup of tea, shivering a little as the Uzumaki-hime rubbed his back.

“Tobirama killed both of those men and then turned to find the Elders that had let it happen and – well, you saw what happened last time he did that.” Izuna finished, curling around his tea as Hashirama’s face tightened and he nodded, “How will the clan have taken it?” he asked and Izuna shrugged listlessly “I don’t know, Yashiro had guards in the Elders hut and almost none of them attacked him even when he killed the Elders, not when they realized he was the equivalent of Center-feral; we had never considered that it would go both ways but the fact that it does will not reflect badly on Tobirama. Our most respected Elder certainly saw it that way, that is was simply what happens when you try to kill part of a Centered-pair so with her on our side and the clan’s gratitude to Tobirama for cleansing the clan I think it will be fine in the end. If they live.”

“How did he find out there was a second trigger?” The Uzumaki-hime’s voice was soft and understanding and Izuna blinked tiredly at her for a second before waving at Iwoa who skittered off his shoulder and sat back on his hind paws to look at the three of them before he spoke. “We have been trying to find who is responsible for the incense-“ “The stuff Tobi sent you” Izuna muttered and Hashirama nodded “-the nin-miko said it was Elder Yamatohime but Doi- another summons that was watching before the ceremony to change it- saw them get switched by Elder Yashiro, she just didn’t know we needed to know right away, freaking martens always-“ “Iwoa!” “-right! She saw that Elder Yashiro was changing the incense, and…..” the white weasel shrunk in on himslef a little, shooting wary looks around “she also said she saw – she saw a shadow creature there in the shrine, listening in the shadows and whispering secrets when Yashiro came to pray.” “Which is how he found out about the second trigger” Izuna breathed, pieces snapping into place “I – the shine of Amaterasu has always been seen as the safest place in the compound and I mentioned that there was a second trigger to my trusted cousin there thinking we were safe – but the shadows – there was always something watching and I just thought it was the kami not…” he trialed off and Hashirama squeezed his shoulder.

“This shadow that was working with Yashiro and living in the shrine, can any of you tell us more about that? Could it have been involved with the incense? Because I looked at that and I tell you now, that was no plant from this earth.” Hashirama asked face dark and worried and Iwoa chittered, skittering over to him and climbing onto his shoulder to curl close to his neck in his dark hair as he responded, “I will ask the clan and the watchers if they have seen anything more and bring Doi back with me tomorrow to talk, ok?” all the humans nodded and the Uzumaki-hime smiled faintly at the weasel, “That sounds good Iwoa, thank you. We should all eat and go to bed soon any way, Izuna a bed will be set up for you in the room next door to your brother, is that alright?” Izuna nodded numbly.

He eat what was placed in front of him, mind stuck on the way the blade looked as it burst through his brother’s chest and though his Sharingan hadn’t been active to see that he would never unsee the way Tobirama had reacted, the way he had killed Yire and Hiderou and how his face had been terrifyingly blank as he picked up that glass fan and sent Madara away to safety. He would never unseen Tobirama calling the storm, the blade of lighting in his hand and soaked with blood so thoroughly that his fur was scarlet with blood, Elders he had known his whole life dead in bloody and painful ways in the face of a fury that burned so cold Izuna thought he was going to freeze over from it (he had never know that the world could end as easily in ice as fire).

Chapter Text

Hashirama couldn’t sleep and when he slipped into Madara’s room to check on the Uchiha he found Izuna there curled over a once again snowy white fur, leaning against the side of the bed and Hashirama bit his lip, picking up a blanket and bringing it in to cover Izuna, resisting from brushing his hair out of his face – that wasn’t his place. A glint on the bed made him pause and Hashirama’s heart lurched again at the sight of the fan and biting his lip he reached out and slipped the fan out of his brother’s grasp, taking it outside and carefully opening it with a muted gasp (he had never seen anything as magnificent as this) before dipping his sleeve in the pitcher of water and carefully setting about cleaning the glass of clotting and dried blood (the formerly white steal-silk that held it together was irreparably dyed red from the blood and it made Hashirama wince but at least it was better now). Once it was clean he took it back and tucked it against his brother’s chest, stroking back Tobirama’s hair and wishing his brother would show some sign of life but not really expecting it.

With a sigh Hashirama pulled back and scanned over Madara with healing chakra, pursing his lips in worry at the lack of change. “’shirama?” the Senju looked up, Izuna had woken up, his hair loose and wild around his sleepy face and – ah there went that pang again, “Go back to sleep Izuna, Madara’s the same” oh, wait, actually, if he slept like that he was going to hurt tomorrow - but he was already out and with a sigh Hashirama bent down to pick up Izuna, carefully measuring his breathing as the Uchiha cuddled into him as the Senju carried him back to his bed in the room next door. This was all…such a mess.

Next morning Hashirama checked on Madara and his brother, relived that his brother’s chakra exhaustion was clearing a little, if more slowly than Hashirama would like, and Tobirama hadn’t apparently moved in the night but for the achingly slow movement of his ribs as he breathed – because he was breathing, worriedly Hashirama rested a hand on his bother’s chest just to feel it move. Yes he was still alive (for now, as long as Madara was alive), and Hashirama remembered this; remembered how Tobirama had become all but comatose when their little brothers died until father beat it out of him and he didn’t know how to help, not when he refused to do what his father had done. He had never yet raised a hand to his brother and he never would, not even in jest the way that the Uchiha brothers had the few times Hashirama had seen them together.

“Hashirama” Mito’s soft voice pulled his attention from his brother and he turned to her with an only partiality forced smile; even though they had had a rocky start with her father’s power plays he really did…admire the woman. Even like her maybe, she was clever and dignified and had a subtle sense of humor that Hashirama admired; all things considered she was a fantastic spouse for him and lady for the clan and he should be grateful for getting a spouse who wanted to make it work with him – because Mito did, they had talked about it and she wanted to make it work with him, wanted this to be a good relationship for them and for their eventual children. And he was grateful! He was, he just…(his mind flashed to a sleepy face half covered in silky black hair and forcefully he shoved that from his mind)…he just nothing. Mito was his finance and had asked to learn the fan language so she could talk to Tobirama and she was a good woman, one Hashirama was both lucky and grateful to have.

Mito’s eyes were kind on him as she waited for him at the entrance to the room, “How are they?” she asked softly and Hashirama sighed, washing his hands in the basin on the table again before he joined her to the door. “The same, Tobi’s chakra is recovering slowly and Madara seems to be much the same, I had hoped…” a dainty hand landed on his arm and Mito smiled ever so slightly up at him, gently squeezing, “There’s still time, give them time. From what I have seen they love each other dearly and are very strong, they’ll recover in time, we just have to give it to them and keep them safe until then.” A soft noise down the hall pulled Hashirama’s attention and he blinked a little in surprise at seeing Izuna with an oddly stricken look on his face (what – what was that about?) but Mito just smiled and sailed down to the Uchiha, curling her small hands around Izuna’s and smiling at him (they were almost of a height), “Have faith Izuna, we will get through this – you’re not alone.” The Uchiha visibly swallowed and looked deeply confused but nodded, muttering something about a washroom and slipping away to clean up as Hashirama went to see if he could find anything of Tobirama’s that would fit Izuna – it would all be too tall but that could be fixed and would be better than dirty clothing.

Izuna looked…odd in Tobirama’s blacks even with the cuffs rolled up, his hair unusually loose as it dried and looking very different from Madara’s flyaway mane, seeing where Hashirama was looking Izuna grimaced a little and tossed the inky locks over his shoulder. “I have mother’s hair – though hers was streaked with blond from her Yamanaka mother. No one is sure where Madara got his hair, Amaterasu only knows” the Uchiha muttered and Mito hummed softly, “I think you have lovely hair, you and Hashirama both; between the two of you a girl could get a complex!” she said, hiding a smirk in a paper fan as Izuna blushed hotly, clearly flustered as he tired not to flail and failed, finally burying his face in his hands with a moan as Mito laughed gently and Hashirama battled his own flush. What – what was Mito doing? It was almost like she was…flirting with Izuna in a low key sort of way, much like how she was interacting with Hashirama himslef and the Senju just couldn’t understand what her game was; he wanted to trust that she wouldn’t do anything to hurt the Uchiha brothers but….he didn’t know what she was thinking.

Izuna was feeling flustered and had spent the morning hiding in Madara’s room, trying to not to think about how still both his brothers were, how he might lose both of them at once if Madara couldn’t pull through. But now that both Iwoa and Doi had returned he knew he had to gather himself and go find the Senju and his fiancé (which…ouch, even if Mito was really nice and rather pretty and they made a great couple and-), searching them out in the garden and then slowing hidden behind some bushes when he heard his name “-what you are doing with Izuna, we promised there would be no lies Mito not after how badly we started things.” Hashirama’s voice was serious and intent and Izuna froze, not sure how to react; Mito had been being quite nice to him, but – “Hashirama, I’m not stupid, I can see they way you two look at each other.” Mito said calmly and Hashirama spluttered “Oh hush, I don’t mind, Uzushio isn’t as traditional about things like this, and I know more than one family that had three- or more- parents and Izuna is a darling. Unless you have a problem with the idea just let me do my work and everything will turn out for the best.”

Izuna stood with his jaw dropped and a slow flush creeping up his cheeks; Mito – she – and Hashirama – was looking back? And Mito – oh. Slowly Izuna crept backwards, inching back towards the house with flaming cheeks and a conflicted heart as he scurried back to his brothers, wishing either one was awake to give him advice. “Why are you so uncomfortable Izuna-kit?” Doi asked, slithering down his arm and looking up at him, with a confused cock to her head “You can have both the man you like to mate and the pretty-strong-lady, why is this a bad thing?” Izuna’s mouth moved silently for a few minutes before he sank to sit against his brother’s bed, trying to sort it out in his head. He had only really come to the conclusion that he wanted to try for Hashirama when Madara had told him about Mito and dashed that hope rather thoroughly and now – now his brother was maybe still dying and Tobirama was comatose and the clan was a mess and there was this shadow to deal with and on top of that Mito was going to try and – what, have them be a threesome? How was Izuna supposed to even think through whether he wanted that with everything going on! (Though Hashirama was so handsome and kind and screwed up and Mito was lovely and clever and sly and they were both so -)

It was just too much. He didn’t know how to process all of this right now with his brother lying still as death behind him, “I just” he whispered to his watching summons “its just a lot, right now with Madara and Tobi – I can’t, its just too much right now” he breathed and Iwoa placed his little paws on Izuna’s cheek, licking up the tears that had slipped down his cheek and nuzzling at him. “Then let it wait, if they actually care about you they won’t mind waiting and taking it slow while thing settle down. Just don’t close any doors or run away because you are intimidated yeah?” Izuna sniffed hard and rubbed at his cheek but nodded, sitting on the floor cuddling his summons until Hashirama and Mito came to find him, Mito’s face softening and Hashirama’s crumbling at the sight of Izuna’s red eyes as he darted over and crouched at Izuna’s side. “Heeeyy, they’ll be ok Izu, they’ll be ok and we’ll figure out the shadow and your clan will be fine and it will all be ok. I’m the God of Shinobi right? I’ll make sure its ok, yeah?” Hashirama’s fussing made Izuna choke a wet laugh and share an exasperated look with a gentle looking Mito who produced another handkerchief for him (did she had an entire seal for them?).

“’m ok” Izuna muttered, “we should go talk about this shadow thing” Hashirama gave him a worried look “really, I’m ok, it just got to me and I’m worried about my brothers, but we need to focus on what it was that caused this – other than Yashiro.” Hashirama sighed a little and pushed to his feet and held out a hand to Izuna, his big, calloused hand closing around Izuna’s as he hauled him to his feet, “Ok, if you say so Izuna, we can go to the engawa again so we stay close, yeah?” Izuna nodded, reluctantly letting go of Hashirama’s hand and following them out where more tea and some dango had appeared on the engawa. “Where did your cousin go?” Izuna asked curiously, he had thought the intimidating woman was close enough to Tobirama she would be here. Hashirama’s mouth tightened a little “Touka is away on a mission, she’s going to be pissed when she gets back if Tobi’s not back on his feet by then.” Mito laughed softly, “My escort- Kazuhiko Kōraru-“ she added for Izuna “will be quite glad to see her again, he’s been moping around while she’s been gone” there was a laugh hiding in the corners of her mouth and it broke Hashirama’s dark mood with a bright if stifled laugh.

“Alright, alright, focus, we have a shadow to hunt down” Hashirama said firmly as Iwoa and Doi skittered down onto the table and each took the dango Mito gave them and happily set to munching. “So what do we know, we know there is a shadow living in the Uchiha shrine that has been influencing former Elder Yashiro and helping replace the incense that was causing the destabilizing tar in the Uchiha’s coils. How long do you think the shadow has been there?” Hashirama asked, eyes intent and fully in clan head mode “you said you could feel it watching you?” Izuna tapped his fingers on the table and nodded. “As long as I can remember, I couldn’t tell you when the incense started to get replaced though; I don’t remember a change in anything.” Hashirama nodded thoughtfully, twiddling a dango stick between his fingers as Mito frowned, “Something brave enough to trespass on a holy shrine and do so for that long….its worrying, very worrying.”

Iwoa finished his dango and licked his little paws, sitting back on his haunches to look at the humans, “The shrine hasn’t been sacred ground for a long time” the summons told them firmly “we can feel sacred ground and that’s not it.” Izuna felt like he had been dunked in cold water, the sharp shock of it making him gasp and feel cold to the bone; wasn’t sacred and hadn’t been for a long time? How long? What in the name of the kami was going on? Doi turned in a tight little circle once or twice before settling and looking at the humans, “I saw the shadow move out of the corners in the shrine, it was a strange humanoid thing, a grinning back shape with reflective white eyes and it came out to talk to Yashiro when he visited, otherwise it stayed in the shadows.” “Did you hear anything when it was talking to Yashiro?” Izuna asked, mouth dry as Doi shuffled her paws, “I heard him call it ‘Zetsu’ and talk to it about taking control of the clan, whispering promises and poisoned honey to the yucky-old man; but nothing that was clear about what it wanted or gave anyway anything about itself, it just played into the yucky-old man’s fantasies – I think he may have thought it was something from him or from the kami or something, but its not. As a summons I can tell you that thing was no natural creature of this world, and it was old, old and cold and bitter.”

Izuna was staring at the marten, a chill slithering down his spine, ‘Zetsu’? and that description, that was – Izuna had heard that and recently; where had he heard that? Where had – a sharp wrap of knuckles on the door and all of them spun to were the door to Madara’s room had opened and Tobirama was slumped against the frame, looking a breath away from dead as he signed 'The story book'. “Br-“ Hashirama started but Tobirama wasn’t listening focused on Izuna 'the story book Madara read to you. That name was mentioned there' he signed in NSL and then he turned and vanished back into the room, glass and gold glinting in one hand.

Chapter Text

Tobirama could barely think, he could hear Izuna filling his brother and Mito in about the story book through the thin paper door and he hardly cared, not when Madara was still and silent and his chakra was banked coals and nothing more, only a breath from going out entirely. Mechanically he sank down to sit next to his Uchiha, stoking the long dark hair until he remembered he had a brush in his sealing bracelet, running it through the dark locks until they were smooth and soft as feathers and he could tie them into a many stranded, complicated braid that would keep him from pulling on his hair or it getting messier. Task done he tucked away the brush and his hands fell limp into his lap; he was still exhausted (so much healing on top of popping so many chakra pills? Of course he was) and he resented the fact that that meant he couldn’t even scrape together the chakra to check over his Uchiha.

“Why didn’t you heal him?” Izuna’s question made him twitch even though there was no condemnation in his voice, just curiosity. ‘I didn’t have enough chakra, I used up too much of it and though chakra pills give chakra they are hard on chakra control – like you need to heal. Besides my brother is a better healer of the body and with his mokuton helping him he can do more to regenerate organs if needed, which I thought might be’ Tobirama signed sluggishly fiddling with the cool glass of the fan and finally asking ‘Did he know what this meant? To the Tree-clan I mean.’  Izuna shifted awkwardly and finally curled up on the other side of the bed on the floor, holding his brother’s hand, face hidden as he replied. “Yeah, one of your summons explained all about it to him. Because you’re his Center he could skip the Uchiha courting rituals and he wanted – well I think that fan makes it clear what he wanted.” Izuna mumbled, sounding like he was talking into his arm as Tobirama curled up against Madara’s side, careful not to touch his chest at all; tucking his head into the crook of Madara’s neck, thinking; I would have said yes, I would have said yes Madara even though there was no one there to know what he was trying to say anymore, not without Madara listening.

He wasn’t sure he could do this without Madara; he would if he had to for his brothers and their clans but he was sure that the moment Madara’s chakra stuttered and went out was the moment that Tobirama would die and the blade would be all that was left, sheath gone and reason to turn to the world and love it missing he didn’t think that was something he could come back from; how could he go back to eating earth? Not having tasted starlight and breathed in warmth so deep it made everything soft around the edges Tobirama so often bruised himself on. It felt like his whole life he had spent turning black and blue trying to do the right thing when it was never what he wanted, when what he needed always came last and he was alone wrapping bloody cuts be they from enemies or his own hand just to heal others and be of use; just to be of some use he would have done anything, anything at all. Until Madara looked at him and saw him and said ‘yes’ when he didn’t have to, until Madara pulled him close and warm and soothed the bruises, softened the corners, brightened the world into a place Tobirama wanted to live in (wanting was so different from duty in the end, Tobirama had had no idea). But without Madara….the sun went down and it was a moonless night and Tobirama had picked himself up from the ruins of a shattered heart once, he wasn’t sure he could do it again without losing something essential.

Wake up he mouthed into the bare shoulder wake up Madara, please, I need you to wake up but there was no change; his words meant nothing, silent and pointless in the quiet room as Tobirama drifted way again not the hazy nothing that flattened his world and pain into nothing.

Madara drifted. He was standing on a plane of dark water, illumined by a defuse golden light that seemed to have no specific source but when he looked down he could see a glowing sun burning under the water and when he looked up he could see a shinning crescent moon hanging in the black of the sky. In the distance he had the strange feeling there was someone sitting and waiting but before he could start to make his way to them a voice called out behind him, soft as a whisper of wind through pines or the last words drifting over a dying man’s lips. “Nephew” startled but somehow calm Madara turned to see the Shikigami behind him, his long white hair draping over dark robes and a snarling mask hanging around his neck to show a kind face toped with horns and eyes as pale as any Hyuuga. It was strange but Madara was somehow sure that he – “Uncle” he knew this being “where am I?” the Shikigami shrugged, one shoulder lifting as he looked down at the sun in the water and moon above them (half full now) “You died. And then you didn’t, Asura has grown gifted with healing with this new brother of his showing him the way” a faint smile curled the pale lips “brother never planned on that one, he never expected that a bridge could be found and used – but then again he never saw how badly you needed someone like that either so, even the Sage misses things it seems. We all have our little blindnesses.”

Madara frowned, the words making sense as long as he didn’t think about them too much, “So – why am I still here? Its good to see you Uncle but, I have people waiting for me that I need to go back to.” And something on the Shikigami’s pale face brightened like the full moon rising over mountains-seeming so close you could reach out and touch it, “And that is something you have never said to me before my child, never before have you refused me; always before it was like you were just waiting for me to come for you, weary and ready to go to your rest.” helplessly Madara shrugged, watching white robes move out of the corner of his eyes in the reflection bellow him. “He makes my whole world brighter Uncle, he makes every breath sweeter and makes me see the world in a different way, a better way, he makes me want to try, makes it worth it to have cried if it led me to him in the end. I would never chose another thing over the chance to see his eyes or feel him breathe with me, he redefines life for me and I will never see the world the same having known what it can be when it is shared with him.” Madara found the words fell from his lips with nearly palpable weight, ripples spreading from where he stood and turning the sun into a blazing cold star bellow them as the Shikigami’s smile widened.

“Then back to him you will go, for I would never separate such a song if given an option” his smile turned a little sad and a little strange as he brushed a feather light touch over Madara’s eyelid, “so strange to see eyes that I have never seen before, always having to be an innovator Indra.” “It was good to see you Uncle” Madara said, the Shikigami gone in a breath and with a whispered “follow the path of the moon, she will lead you home just this once” and as the moon above turned in a full disk, round and pearl-bright a long path of silvery stairs appeared through the water and Madara walked down toward the cold-star, his chest starting to ache and his coils to burn with chakra use with each step but he could also feel a mouth on his shoulder and a hand holding his and the chakra of the people he loved the most curled close to him. It was enough to push him faster and faster as the light dimmed and the pain grew greater with every step; but that was fine, that was acceptable, if it meant seeing Izuna giggle or touching Tobirama’s sharp cheek, if it meant throwing his brother in the pond and holding hands with his Center and laughing at Hashirama and caring for the clan he was relearning how to love as well as serve through Tobirama’s eyes.

The pain was blinding and it felt like someone had cracked his chest open and cut out his heart, like his eyes were burning in his head but there were long cool hands framing his face and Madara knew that if he opened his eyes he would see Tobirama’s face and even the pain that was cutting off his breath, was burning out his nerves to numbness was worth it for another sight of those red eyes.

They were bright as stars to Madara’s hyper intense sight and if he had thought he could see his Center’s chakra before when Tobirama called his chakra to his eyes he was a fool; this, this was seeing everything and a day, seeing the span of a soul and a life lived for duty and loyalty warmed on scraps and spare breathes until Madara walked in like the first touch of the sunrise over snow, wiping away the dust and pain to show the crystal that was beneath and revealing it to the light. And the devotion that he was given for that, the absolute commitment of every breath, the adoration of Madara for nothing more than who he was, the unbending love that this wonderful man held for him was so world changing that Madara could swear he could feel even the wheels of fate beginning to shift.

Distantly a voice was yelping abut his eyes and Madara didn’t care as tears dripped crystallin out of red eyes; that fey face painted with pain and he couldn’t even lift his hand to touch Tobirama – but then Tobirama was leaning down and sealing their lips together and the rest of it didn’t matter anymore.

Izuna didn’t know what to feel, on one hand his brother was awake! On the other hand waking up had been proceeded by his eyes glowing under their closed lids as all his chakra activated at once in a terrific surge and now that he was awake his eyes were complete different; fully purple from corner to corner and filled with concentric black circles surrounding a tiny many-pointed star in the center looking far too much like a half remembered myth and Izuna (he would have to send a summons to Yamatohime and have her check the Tablet, surely there was no way that Madara now had a variation on the famed Rinnegan?) - Izuna was overwhelmed and he was aching for the way Tobirama was shaking even as he clung to his brother’s hand as Hashirama barreled into the room, gently shifting his brother further up the bed to look at Madara’s chest as Tobirama curled over Madara’s head, his shoulders shaking painfully.

“Is he-?” Izuna wasn’t even sure what he was trying to ask but Hashirama nodded, wide eyed and thrilled looking, “Burnt through a lot of chakra so now his coils probably hurt and I think he was in a lot of pain but I’ve put a block in for that now. So yes, he’s going to be ok Izuna, he’s going to be ok.” and that, that was all that mattered, especially as his brother’s fingers closed weakly around his and squeezed; finally, inarguably alive and in the most Madara way Izuna could imagine – rising like a star from the horizon to burn even brighter.

Chapter Text

It took a long time for Tobirama’s tears to fade, Madara’s soft wordless crooning soothing something deep inside him that the Uchiha's weak grip couldn’t solve. Hashirama had told Izuna that Madara was weak from the procedure and assimilating the non-native cells and on top of that burning off a large chunk of his chakra fucking with his eyes (Izuna seemed to have some ideas about that so Tobirama didn’t care, they didn’t seem to be hurting anymore and Madara could still see so the rest would wait). “To’ra” Madara rasped finally, one of his hands lifting shaking to clumsily stroke the back of Tobirama’s head, “To’ra, breathe” oh, yeah, that would be good, Tobirama wasn’t really doing that. He sucked in a noisy breath against Madara’s cheek, gasping for air and fluttering frantic fingers over Madara’s pulse on his throat, aching for as much proof of life as he could get, “M’ok Tora” Madara soothed, his voice audibly growing stronger as Hashirama’s pain block worked “really, I’m ok, I’m back, which, why the fuck does my chest hurt so much and what is going on with my eyes?”

Tobirama wanted to giggle a little but he was still aching too much, clinging to Madara as the man’s hand moved to stroking his back and Hashirama explained about the procedure on his chest with Hashirama’s cells. It was only when Izuna finally spoke up that Tobirama started paying attention as the younger Uchiha haltingly explained that it looked like Madara had the Rinnegan – only the center was different (from having a Center?); then he had to explain what the Rinnegan was (another evolution of the Sharingan? How many were there?) to the Senju and that was, a lot. The Rinnegan sounded like a lot and Tobirama would feel a lot better when that letter was sent to Yamatohime - the Elder who smoothed her kimono and stood slowly only to kneel in front of Tobirama’s feet, regal and graceful. – right, hopefully that wouldn’t be an issue. Tobirama should probably feel bad about what he had done but he just – just didn’t. Not in the slightest, they tried to take away his Uchiha, tried to leave him alone in the world and Tobirama could not let that go, he wasn’t built like that; he would never allow anyone to take Madara away from him, not now that Madara was his as much as he was Madara’s (because he had always been Madara’s even before he was the Uchiha’s Center, but now, with the fan- the fan- Madara had chosen to be his too and that, that made Tobirama want to purr).

It took a while for the talking around him to stop and Hashirama and Mito to leave, Izuna reluctantly following them out (hopefully to get his own sleep in the other room – though Tobirama was sure it was only to give them a little time alone that he was leaving at all) and Tobirama was alone with his Madara. “Hey” Madara sounded tired “look at me celestial?” a broad hand stroked his hair “I want to see your pretty face, please?” and reluctantly Tobirama pulled his face out of the crook of Madara’s neck, reluctant to leave the warm safety of his tucked away position. Still, it was worth it for the smile that curled Madara’s full lips as he looked at Tobirama, who felt a flush curling over his cheeks;  “there you are” Madara purred, stroking the line on Tobirama’s cheek. The Uchiha was still pale and drawn looking, but his eyes were lively and bright, and filled with affection as they looked at Tobirama- well, as best as the Senju could tell with the new configuration- and more than anything he was alive.

Licking his lips Tobirama lifted one hand and signed ‘Yes’ to Madara, hesitatingly holding up the fan when the Uchiha just looked confused; letting it open with a soft snap-clink and signing ‘Yes’ again. Madara’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open as he gaped, sucking in a sharp breath and eyes looking wet, “Truly?” he breathed, clutching at Tobirama with ungloved hands, a wide, disbelieving smile pulling at the edges of his mouth as Tobirama nodded, smiling damply back and clutching the fan to his chest. Madara’s eyes caught on the fan and his smile dimmed a bit, “It’s stained” he said, sounding regretful and Tobirama hugged the fan closer shaking his head and trying to figure out how to explain. ‘It’s not, it’s – a promise, your promise to me that you would come back. That you were mine as much as I was yours and that I had the right to seek vengeance for you. It felt like my promise you wouldn’t leave me.’  he signed, chewing on his lip as Madara’s face lightened and the lines of tension eased, “I would always come back to you” he breathed “and you said yes” Tobirama’s smile widened and the tears in his eyes brimmed over, dripping down his cheeks as Madara laughed, cutting off in a pained groan but still smiling widely enough to split his face as he reached up and cupped Tobirama’s face as he pulled the albino down into a kiss. A kiss Tobirama was more than happy to return to his fiancé (his fiancé!) with interest.

Madara was almost glad of the dull ache was radiating out of his chest reassuring him that this was real, otherwise the brimming joy that had filled him with Tobirama’s acceptance might have made him felt like this was nothing more than a daydream for surely he could never be so happy in real life. Still with the Rinnegan spinning in his eyes he knew he would never forget this moment when Tobirama agreed to marry him and smiled so wide he even gained little dimples in his cheeks, now if he could just figure out how to turn the mythical eye of his clan off and if he still had access to the Sharingan and Mangekyō he would feel much better. Seeming to follow his thoughts Tobirama shifted back, tucking his new fan to his chest and signing ‘Can you turn it off?’, Madara shrugged a little, wincing as he chest pulled painfully- Hashirama promised that it would heal soon but in the meantime it ached something fierce- and focusing on it the same way he did when he activated or deactivated the Mangekyō and then frowning. When an Uchiha first activated the Sharingan or Mangekyō they had to learn the pathways of the chakra to learn how to activate and deactivate it; this felt a bit like that, like he needed to just find…the right….path.

There, with a sensation that was a bit like a click and a slowing sensation in his eye Tenketsu and when he blinked his eyes the world was no longer hyper-clear and multi-dimensional; once again dull and slightly blurry- at least in comparison with the Sharingan-, Tobirama’s eyes beautiful red but no longer shinning with the length of his life and strength of his soul. “Hey beautiful” he murmured, reaching up with arms fast gaining strength to stroke his Center’s wild white hair (how long had he been out? Had Tobirama been with him the whole time?), frowning a bit at the flecks of dried blood in his Center’s hair. Tobirama flushing and pushed into his hand like a needy cat, crawling to curl up closer to Madara and clearly exhausted as he pushed in close; clearly seeking as much contact as he could get. Aching a bit for his poor Center Madara curled an arm and as much of himslef as he could around Tobirama without aggravating the incision on his chest (and yes, he was a little creeped out that he had some of Hashirama’s cells in him right now but as long as it didn’t start changing his body or like – adding a face anywhere awkward it was probably fine, right?).

Tobirama had dozed off by the time Izuna slipped back into the room, bearing a tray of food and steaming tea; his steps stuttering tellingly at the door as he saw Madara awake and looking back with Uchiha dark eyes. “You’re still awake” he breathed, soft enough not to wake Tobirama as he approached and set the tray on the ground to help Madara sit up more, Tobirama tucked into his lap, “I was afraid you’d drop off again but Hashirama says you need to eat” and oh, wasn’t that an interesting curl of his voice around Hashirama’s name? Running his fingers through Tobirama’s hair he reached with the other hand for the tea, grimacing a little at the shaking of his fingers. “Hashirama huh?” he teased gently, smirking at Izuna’s blush and muttered “Oh shut up, its complicated. Blame the Uzumaki” and as much as Madara wanted to peruse that and ask more questions it was slightly more important that he understand what was going on right now and why Tobirama still had blood in his hair.

“Izu- and don’t think I am going to forget that- but, what happened? After I was – you know-“ “Stabbed?” Izuna’s voice was harsh and then softened with a look at the sleeping Tobirama that was slightly wary, wary in a way it hadn’t been in a long time. “As a clan we have never really thought about what Center’s do when they lose their Uchiha, we don’t have any records on it and we don’t – I don’t know if you and he are a special case or if there is some element of mutuality that you have that most don’t but – we have a word for it now, for a Center who loses their Uchiha, Yamatohime called it a nova-Center or lost-Center after what happens to binary stars without the gravity of their orbiting stars” he snorted “I think she’s coming up with a whole theory about the two of you from her letter- filling me in about the clan and she said she would look into the tablet about the Rinnegan-, that most Uchiha-Center pairs are an Uchiha orbiting another person but if that orbit becomes mutual like it has with you two it becomes more like a binary-Centering or something, she sort of lost me but I am sure it will be submitted to the clan archives and-“ “Izuna, stop avoiding answering my question, what happened.” Madara interrupted sternly, all too aware of his brother’s stalling tactics, as interesting as it was.

Izuna swallowed and looked down at his hands for a long moment before he whispered “When you – fell, he – the fan fell out of your robes and he just…Yire and Hiderou were dead within seconds- did you know he can control blood?- and he…he was just, gone. His eyes were just dead and colder than anything I have ever seen. He – he called a storm, an actual storm and turned to the Elders hut; I was going to stop him but he had your fan and he, well he smacked Kikiyo with enough KI to knock her to the floor and then he went and – I wasn’t there at the time, only in the aftermath, I was talking to my summons but by the time I entered the room was filled the bloody water rippling around him and – Yashiro is dead, Masaru is dead, Yumi is dead, Takao is dead, Chiaki is dead, a few others that tried to attack him too but I don’t know who yet; probably Yashiro’s loyalists. He was going to kill Yamatohime but she was never involved – Yashiro was switching the incense” (of course he was) “and I stopped him and she -  that was when she made a speech about Centers that lose their Uchiha being as fearsome as the Uchiha that loses their Center.” Izuna shivered, sending a wary glance at Tobirama “What happened was that you fell and Tobirama turned to ice and brother – I always thought that is the world would end it would end in fire, I know too much of passion to have ever thought anything else, but now, now I know that the world could end as easily in ice for the hatred that I saw in him is cold enough to crack bone and break the world, so sharp you almost didn’t feel the cut till the blood froze over. I think if you had died he would have killed everyone in the compound and then himself if he didn’t turn that hate on the world that took you from him so – you have to be careful ok? Not just for me but for all of us, because losing either one of you would ruin the world and I – I rather like living here.”

Madara felt cold, hair raising at the thought of that ice (the cold he knew lived in his Center, the cold he had seen in his chakra, the biting perfect cold that balanced his fire in the way nothing else ever would – in the way Hashirama never could have) turned outward on the world and turning his sweet, lovely Center into this creature that would turn the whole world to ice just because he no longer cared without Madara. It was a sobering thought. Carefully Madara dragged his fingers through Tobirama’s hair, swallowing and meeting his brother’s eyes, “Well then, it’s a good thing we’re both so strong then isn’t it?” he said finally, “I’ll be careful, I won’t let that happen again – to either of you, ok?” Izuna nodded, sniffling and then tipping forward to hide his face in Madara’s robe, shoulders shaking with sobs.

Chapter Text

Tobirama woke in a tangle of Madara and Izuna to his brother slipping in to check on Madara’s incision which was much improved now that he was awake and with the slight changes in his chakra that seemed to have come with either adapting to Hashirama’s cells or the change in his eyes, it was hard to say which (unless they were connected?). But either way he was well enough to shower now with some help and Tobirama was more than willing to do that – not only because he felt gross now that he was paying attention, but also because he was much loath to leave Madara’s side even for a second now that his fiancé (his fiancé!) was awake and aware again and could talk back to him and interact with him. It sucked a bit that the first time Madara was seeing him mostly undressed it was under these circumstances but it seemed that Madara wasn’t thinking about that if the way his eyes flicked hotly over Tobirama’s body was anything to go by, ungloved big hands with their long fingers and prominent knuckles flexing like he was holding back from touching as much as Tobirama was at the sight of Madara’s creamy skin – though the healing stiches on the incision over his chest did dampen his arousal slightly, enough at least to focus on getting Madara’s sitting on a stool in the shower to wash his hair.

Which…was maybe not his greatest idea – or it was, either way it was hard to stay focused when his attention kept getting diverted by the thick strands in his hands and the way Madara moaned when Tobirama pulled just so, or the sight of water sluicing over the heavy musculature that Tobirama so admired (kami, Madara’s thighs were….). It was all very distracting and when that lovely dark hair was tended to Tobirama – couldn’t help himslef, rounding the Uchiha and kneeling between his legs to drag a wet cloth over warm creamy skin, careful around the healing wound and lingering over the scar on Madara’s neck (he was very glad he had remembered to wrap his own throat in nin-wraps before getting undressed, this was not a good time for Madara to have to deal with the scar there) and slowly dragging it lower to the sharp cut of his Apollo’s belt, licking his lips at the sight of Madara’s hard cock heavy between spread thighs.

“To’ra” Madara rasped, hands twitching to reach out where they rested on his thighs, abs tight with tension and arousal (arousal Tobirama inspired in him without any of the tricks or makeup he used to use on missions, just Tobirama as he was) and thoughtlessly Tobirama leaned forward and licked the hard lines of muscle on his stomach, mouthing at the defined lines with hungry abandon as a big hand snapped up to cup the back of his head and neck, possessively holding him close as Tobirama finally got his mouth on that chest – though he did carefully avoid anywhere close to the closing wound. “To’ra! That – ah! – celestial, beautiful that feels-“ methodically Tobirama worked his way down, sucking sharp-toothed bites on the Uchiha’s defined Apollo’s belt and relishing the warm masculine scent of him between his thighs as Madara groaned and let his head fall back into the shower wall.

‘Tell me if anything hurts in your chest’ Tobirama signed, pulling back enough Madara could see his hands before he ducked down and licked a line up that heavy cock, delighting in the way Madara very nearly shouted, head snapping back and his hand clenching in Tobirama’s hair. It was…different, doing this because he wanted to, not because he had too, all his tricks to make this act fast as possible that he has always used on honeypot missions seemed to fall out of his head with the addition of his own arousal; instead all he wanted to do was focus on the taste and weight of Madara’s length in his mouth, the way it felt to curl his mouth around the heat and the slightly bitter taste as Madara leaked into his mouth (kami, it was so different with someone he wanted not someone he was – enduring, if this was what sex was supposed to be he suddenly got the point of it). Madara’s moans were heady as they echoed in his ears, bouncing off the shower walls and making Tobirama even more egger, sloppy with his own arousal as he slipped a hand between his own legs and palmed his own cock, sucking hard as Madara pulled sharply on his hair, gasping out a warning that Tobirama ignored, well aware he could swallow and too invested to mind even if he normally didn’t love it.

Madara’s thighs tightened on either side of him and he peeked in Tobirama’s mouth with another shout, the Senju (for now!) licking a the softening length before reluctantly letting it slip from his lips; preening at the blurred praise dripping from Madara’s lips as his Uchiha coaxed him up and into the older man’s lap. One of those big hands Tobirama loved so much curled around his cock and Tobirama arched, clutching at Madara’s shoulders and making little breath sounds as his fiancé (his fiancé!) stroked him slow and firm, whispered adoration filling the Senju’s ears and a blanket of chakra wrapped around him and driving him straight over the edge (so different when he wanted it).

He drifted down slowly, arms wrapped around Madara’s broad shoulders as he nuzzled at the side of the Uchiha’s face, warm and comfy and happy as he could get. “Feel good To’ra?” Madara rumbled “Because you were wonderful for me, so good for me my sweet celestial, so lovely” Tobirama shivered in pleasure as that lovely chakra curled around him and Madara’s word filled him up, finally melting the cold empty hole in Tobirama’s chest and filling it to brimming. The only thing he regretted was that he couldn’t reciprocate, couldn’t easily tell Madara how good the Uchiha was to him without untangling his hands from the lovely if wet hair; still, regretfully he pulled back a bit to pull up his hands and sign to his fiancé (his fiancé!). ‘You too. I love it with you, I have never – I never knew it could feel like this but you’re so good to me and so stunning, you’re so good, I want everything with you’ something complicated flashed over Madara’s face and then was hidden behind the faint blush on the Uchiha’s cheeks at the praise (oh? So this was a thing for him too then? Perhaps that wasn’t a surprise all things considered).

Madara groaned and ducked his head into the crook of Tobirama’s neck, “You – I just – ugh – we’ll talk about that another time too by the way but for now, wash your hair and then we need to get out before I fall over ok?” Docilly Tobirama nodded, setting about cleaning his hair as Madara washed his body, those big hands lingering over him threatening to stimulate his interest again until Tobirama took over and washed briskly. He got them out of the shower and rubbed on his sun oil as fast as long practice could teach him, trying to ignore the fascinated eyes as Madara watched him since he couldn’t raise his arms high enough to dry his own hair without pain. As soon as he was done and dressed in a loose but warm yukata he turned to brushing, oiling and drying the thick length of Madara’s hair through a mix of toweling and suiton jutsu until the feathery, wavy cloud of fine, inky hair was rich and dry again with a few fine braids worked into the mass decorated with glinting gems.

As he stood Madara took Tobirama into his arms, curling around the albino and just breathing for a moment before he whispered, “I am so glad I came back to you” which – implied that Madara might not have; that it had been in question, that – but, no, don’t think about it, Madara did come back to him, Madara had wanted him enough to come back and keep the promise that was the fan and that was all that mattered. It had to be.

Madara was exhausted, getting frisky in with Tobirama in the shower had been more than worth it but it had maybe not been his greatest idea in terms of his chest not hurting, so it was a relief to get back into bed with the changed sheets, leaning on a pile of pillows with Tobirama tucked him against fussily and his brother curled up at his feet watching them with bright eyes. A soft knock at the door proceeded Hashirama and the Uzumaki-hime with trays of food, they set one down on the low table set next to the bed and the other on the bed for Madara and Tobirama as the Uzumaki coaxed a flushed Izuna off the bed to the table to eat while Madara was filled in on everything they knew about the elders and the clan and the shadow called Zetsu (Madara shivered a little, mind flashing to the image in the story book of the grinning back shape leaned out around another tree and watched with reflective dead white eyes, how could it be that Zetsu? But…how could it not with everything and the incense that wasn’t even from this world). It was a sobering meal that Tobirama nudged him to finish and Madara’s skin was crawling by the time that they were done explaining everything and Izuna had reported what Yamatohime had said about the clan (stable, worried about Madara and wary of Tobirama but the temperature was swaying in his favor, after all how could they blame the albino for being as devoted as an Uchiha would be?).

How long had the shrine not been holy ground? How long had Zetsu been living there and whispering to them that the oldest book the clan had- for that was what the story book was according to the lore- was the only other place he knew of that recorded the name? How old was it? What did it want and why did it want it? What was the point of the incense and how long had it been tainted and destroying their ability to see and think clearly and their stability? What exactly were they dealing with here and how did they kill it? “Izuna, have Kikiyo look into the clan records for anything that might be about this Zetsu-“ “We’ll check ours as well” Hashirama interrupted quietly and Madara nodded. “-and then,” he hesitated, but… “Start getting the clan ready to move, we are moving up the plans for the village as soon as this Zetsu is gone, I don’t – I don’t trust the compound anymore after this all.”

Hashirama’s eyes widen and filled with a mix of excitement and worry and he nodded, “I’ll push for it sooner with the Senju as well, but we have to deal with this Zetsu as soon as we can, we need to stop it from messing with your clan and who knows what else.” Madara nodded, grateful to his old friend as the Uzumaki-hime stacked dishes and gathered them up, wishing them a good night and slipping away, followed before too long by a worried looking Hashirama though Izuna just crawled into the end of the bed and watched Madara and Tobirama with worried enough eyes that Madara couldn’t kick him out and let him curl up under a blanket and fall asleep there. Tobirama fought sleep for as long as he could like he was afraid that sleeping would make Madara vanish, but he couldn’t put it off forever with his lingering chakra exhaustion and before long Madara’s own eyes were getting heavy, surrounded by the people he loved best and even his worries for his clan and about the shadow felt a little distant and far away from this warm little bubble.

(He dreamed of a bright pearl moon above him and a cold star below and a reflection that was/not his face, memory curling around him whispering; for a moment Madara wanted to listen to the whispers and examine the face that was/not his face. But below him the star was bright and the moon was soothing and both were more important to him than whispers that he somehow knew were long past.)

Chapter Text

Tobirama scanned another passage on the old Senju scroll, dragging his fingers through Madara’s hair where the older man slept next to his hip, still recovering from the stabbing and operation. “Brother?” Tobirama looked up at Hashirama hovering in the door, holding up an old scrap of a scroll in one hand and watching Tobirama with worried eyes that had Tobirama softening slightly as he looked at his brother, setting aside his scroll and stroking Madara’s hair and waving the older man in, Hashirama wandered in, looking sheepish and uncertain as he held up his scroll “I think I might have found something” Hashirama whispered, well aware by now that speaking any louder while Madara was sleeping would have Tobirama glaring at him something fierce. Tobirama smiled slightly and held out hand to Hashirama as the big Senju settled on the side of the bed gingerly, “I found it in some old records we have that I’ve never looked at before. You know how the clan holds onto anything written by users of the Mokuton just in case it might be useful even if they aren’t like, important?” Tobirama nodded, gently unrolling the scroll “Well this is from a woman named Tsubaki Senju that was alive several decades ago when the war with the Uchiha as at a lull, she was the daughter of the ambassador to the Daimyo and got to know the daughter of her father’s Uchiha counterpart, a woman named Seiren I think, and had weak Mokuton. Not strong enough to have much interest at the time- she was only a cousin to the main line I guess- but she had it and she knew the Uchiha fairly well from her time at court and she wrote this so…”

Tobirama frowned as he looked down at the words Hashirama indicated written in a swirling, delicate hand: I worry more and more about Seiren, it has been nearly six months since I saw her last and my dear friend seemed distracted and distressed at the time, though I know there is nothing I can do for her as tensions are once again rising between our clans and I fear that hostilities will break out once again in the next generation – it frightens me at the thought of any children I might have should be forced to fight in a pointless war so old the origins of it are long lost. And how strange it is that though we have tried to forge peace never has it held! It makes little sense to me that we should once again be at odds when so recently we were it seemed close to being friends, in fact it reeks of strangeness to me that this pattern should repeat time after time like we are but puppets dancing to another’s tune – why else should our missions so often come into conflict when no other feud with any other clan has lasted so long! After all the Mizuchi were once deepest of foes and now look to us for protection and safety, surely the divide from our ancestors cannot be so impossible to overcome? I do hate the idea that a child of mine may kill a child of Seiren’s – though I do not even know her fate at this moment. Tobirama frowned, shifting the scroll to look at the second section Hashirama had pointed out and turning over the ancient Senju’s words over in his head; she had a good point, how had the feud lasted so long and this pattern of receding hostility and then an upswing…

It is as I thought, I have gone through the records and there is no doubting it, every time the hostilities with the Uchiha start to settle down something happens to flare hostilities up again and I fear that Seiren has been the victim of such a plot this time. Every time there was a peace something happened? Something like the clan head dying in front of a Senju and leaving someone vehemently anti-Senju in power? That….hm. Furthermore as I look into the records more and more do I begin to wonder about some things Seiren had said and I find it…strange that so many Uchiha are so….unstable. Oh I hold no doubt of their worthiness and strength and rather admire their passion and fire, but there is a strain in them that bends too fast to brutality when love as easily will unlock their power and their thirst for vengeance seems strange. And there is something…something in the shadows, a whisper and a malevolence that seems to want to keep that clan balanced on the edge and soaked in blood. I know not what it is or what it wants but I fear its actions and manipulations and what they mean for my clan and peace in Fire. Tobirama frowned darkly down at the old vellum, slowly lowering it and turning over what it said in his head thoughtfully; this was worrying, this was more than worrying.

Softly Tobirama set down the scroll and picked up his glass fan, still petting his fiancé’s hair (his fiancé!) with one hand as he flickered the glinting fan with the other to talk to his brother (he needed his brother to find a Nara to teach him NSL) (concerning/so long/what want with/Uchiha). Hashirama shrugged, looking worried, “I don’t know,” he breathed “I don’t know what they could want but-” he shot a haunted look at the scroll “-reading that was like feeling someone walking over my grave or – déjà vu or something, it made my skin crawl a little. And then I think about the implications, that Zetsu has been manipulating the feud between our clans to keep it going and that is part of why he tried to kill Madara, that he wants the Uchiha unstable and bloodthirsty and in pain and may have since our clans began; kami it terrifies me Tobi, how do we even find out what this thing it?”

“Does it matter?” both of them turned to look at Izuna leaning in the door Mito behind him smirking as Tobirama sent a scorching glare at the younger Uchiha for the loudness of his voice. Izuna held up his hands and slipped into the room, rolling his eyes a bit “He has to wake up and eat Tobira, its lunch time and you might be fine living on ideas and hair pets but the rest of us need food” it was sharper than Izuna had been with him for a while and Tobirama’s red eyes narrowed slightly, sharply analyzing until Izuna was wriggling and shamefaced, muttering an apology. What was going on here? Sure this was a stressful time but what was Izuna so stressed about he was snapping? Reluctantly Tobirama looked up and let up with his sharp gaze, turning his attention to Madara and stroking the lines of his face until those lovely almond eyes opened and blinked warmly up at him. Helplessly Tobirama smiled down at him, folding in half to kiss his fiancé (his fiancé!) lightly before pulling back and helping Madara shift up to lean on a pile of pillows as Mito brought over a tray of food for the two of them. The Uzumaki gently ushering Izuna and Hashirama to sit and eat at the table, Izuna- to Tobirama’s watchful eyes- looking uncomfortable and uncertain with the two others (hmm, interesting, very interesting).

After dinner Tobirama tapped his fan on the bed frame to get attention, signing to Izuna ’What did you mean it doesn’t matter?’ the Uchiha visibly winced and inched over to lean on the bed, hand curling up near his brother’s ankle. “I just meant, does it matter what Zetsu is? Or even what it’s big plan is with making the Uchiha crazy and keeping us fighting? It’s actually a question, do we need to know to stop it? Can we just stop it as it is without struggling to find out more that we might never find?” Izuna’s fingers were picking at the blanket over Madara’s feet and Tobirama cocked his head, considering that thoughtfully. Because….did they? Without knowing what Zetsu was could they kill it? But – was killing it necessary? Preferable certainly but was it more important than stopping it before it did more damage or realized they were on to it and came after them? So, ‘If we seek to stop it rather than killing it because we don’t know how what does that mean?’ Tobirama asked Izuna and Madara, pleased when his fiancé (his fiancé!) automatically translated.

Izuna frowned, looking better now that he was thinking about something and slowly cocking his head to the side, “Well, it’s been being a puppet master right? So it needs something and or isn’t strong enough to attack us head on so, it needs to communicate doesn’t it? To do it’s thing?” and beside Tobirama Madara’s eyes lit up. “Have you ever heard the story of Nakano?” he asked, bright eyed and fucking brilliant, the only question was how did they do it? On the other hand could the Rinnegan make stronger Genjutsu? Oh! and what about – Tobirama spun to look at Mito, flickering his fan in bright flashes (where is/female with you/curse setter?) Hashirama obediently made sure that Mito had caught everything Tobirama said but his face was confused until Mito said, “Ah! Sara – you mean Sara Kintsugi?” and Tobirama nodded “She is still here, do you have need of her?” and a viscous smile curled Tobirama’s lips as he set about explaining the components of his idea to Madara- who was really the best tactician of all of them- so that his fiancé (his fiancé!) could make them into an actual plan.

Madara was in awe of the brilliance of his Center, the idea that  Tobirama had given him and they had spent a good portion of the day beating into something they could use was nothing short of inspired and though he was reluctant to lose his Center tucked into his side as Tobirama had been since he woke the albino was only in the corner of the room with the tawny Sara Kintsugi as the woman taught Tobirama her clan specialty. Oh she had been reluctant at first to reveal Kintsugi clan secrets, but Mito had convinced her somehow and now she seemed impressed enough with the speed that Tobirama was picking up Jujutsu that she was enjoying teaching the albino. (It also meant that Tobirama wasn’t fussing over Madara for a bit and the Uchiha could admit that he was ready for a bit of a break; it was lovely to be doted on and fussed over to an extent but Madara was ready to try and get up and move around a little now and Hashirama said he was ready to move and in fact mostly healed now and that would be easier without Tobirama’s nearly palpable worry making him feel like he should just stay in bed to make his Center happy ((Madara was a weak, weak man)).)

Slowly Madara inched his way to the edge of the bed and stood, stretching carefully around the lingering ache in his chest and blowing out a relived breath with everything seemed fine. Good, fuck Hashirama was a good healer and Madara was a lucky shit. Carefully Madara slipped outside to the engawa where Tobirama would still be able to see him through the open door if he looked up and settled next to his little brother near the low table, eyeing Izuna’s tight expression for a moment as he pulled out his pipe (bless Hikaku for sending it with some clothing) and lit it, sucking a deep breath and then blowing it out through his teeth. “So” Madara started, watching his normally aware brother jump in surprise “what has you so wound up?” Izuna twitched, his whole face contorting as he ducked his head and then crawled around the table to drop his head in Madara’s lap with a tight little noise; oh, oh dear, this was more worrisome than Madara had thought then.

“Izu” be prompted gently, combing his fingers through Izuna’s hair, “It – they – You know how I – about Hashirama” Madara hummed in agreement, “well I thought that, when Mito came into the picture that that was that you know? But then Mito has been so…flirty and nice and - did you know in Uzu they have multi partner relationships? Like more than two partners and stuff” Madara hummed again, not mentioning to Izuna that that wasn’t unheard of in the Uchiha either, not common (too possessive as a rule) but it did happen and no one had a problem with it, that wasn’t important, what was important was that Izuna knew this about Uzu and what that implied that he had heard from Mito. “Did Uzumaki-hime tell you that?” Izuna curled a little closer, “No” he whispered “I overheard her talking to Hashirama about me, Hashirama was worried about what she wanted from me and she told him about Uzu and she – she said she could see they way we were looking at each other and that in Uzu threesomes weren’t a problem and she didn’t have an issue with it and ever since they both have just been so –“ he cut off with a frustrated huff and shoved his face into Madara’s thigh.

Ah. Well, that…that was not what Madara had expected but would be a rather nice solution if “And what do you think? Do you like the hime? Why does this upset you so much?” Izuna groaned deeply, going quiet for a long second. “I…I do like her, she’s sly and regal and impressive, I just….its a lot, I’m not sure I – what if I can’t keep up or they get sick of me or they prefer each other or the clan doesn’t like it or what if-“ “Izuna, Izu, stop, stop thinking about all of this, just – what do you want? Do you want them? Both of them?” Madara voice was gentle but firm and Izuna sagged, the growing tension that had been rising in him easing out “If you want them, or even just want to try then everything else can be worked around. I won’t say that a three-way marriage is the easiest thing in the world but no relationship is, you just have to communicate with each other. So, what do you want?” there was a long pause and Izuna picked at Madara’s pants, “I – I think I want them, they’re both so…I just need them to go slow, and I think – I think I need them to talk to me, this is too much all at once and I don’t know how to keep up or what is expected of me.”

Madara nodded, that made sense, “Do you want me to tell Hashirama he and Mito need to slow down and talk to you about it? I don’t mind bringing it up with him if it feels like too much for you.” Izuna had never done well when he didn’t know what was expected of him and he needed rules, guidelines and certainties to follow that he could lean on; it wasn’t surprising that he was struggling in something he had no rules to fall back on, no black and white to lean on. After a moment Izuna nodded meekly into Madara’s pants, a whispered “Please” making Madara ache a bit for his poor confused brother, “Ok, I’ll take care of that then, now, any word from Yamatohime about the tablet or the Rinnegan?” Izuna relaxed a bit at the change in subject and pushed himslef to sit up, dragging a hand through his hair and undoing his now messy low tail to redo it as he spoke. “Yup, got one earlier today now that’s she’s had a few days to poke at it she – she said that though she can’t read all of it since that needs the Rinnegan, for one, it was written by more than one person at more than one time.” Madara sent Izuna a disbelieving look and he nodded.

“I know it sounds insane after what we were told about it but apparently according to her if you examine the Tablet itself and not just the text it’s not all that well hidden that it was done by two hands, and then later hands even altered sections of the earlier text entirely. In examining the stone she said it is clear that the older writing was done in a shallower hand and had some wear from time to it before the second hand came in and not only added a great deal but carved over the older text with different- deeper- instruments, some of the resulting confusion or jarring switches were then hidden in the way that you had to have two different ways of reading it – if you are changing your eyes you are less likely to notice that the subject had had a jarring changes in between codes; apparently she could show you a dozen different mistakes, inconsistencies, and internal contradictions, and that’s not even mentioning the misspellings.” Madara just stared at his brother, feeling cold to the bone at the idea that the tablet that had long been considered their clan’s most sacred text was filled with lies and manipulations. “Zetsu?” he asked through cold lips and Izuna shrugged but his face clearly said what he thought had happened (already one of their holy places was defiled by this creature, why not this too?).

Then a hand landed on his shoulder and his Center was behind him, wrapping his arms around Madara’s shoulders and nuzzling into his hair, chirring softly and soothingly as he nuzzled the rattled Uchiha. Greatly relieved Madara covered his Center’s hand with his own and leaned back into the albino (how strange to have someone at his back and find it comforting rather than hateful), leaning into his strength and trying to gather himslef, eyes closed as he leaned into the lean strength. “Ask her to make a transcript of the tablet pointing out everything she can and all the alternative translations” Madara croaked “have her seal the transcripts as tightly as she can, I don’t want them getting out. Did she find anything helpful on the use of the Rinnegan?”

Wordlessly Izuna handed over a few pages, less than Madara had hoped for but hopefully enough that he would be able to do what was needed for their plan with that and the instinctive control of his eyes that seemed to come with the Sharingan and all it’s levels. Madara nodded in thanks, leaning back into Tobirama and just resting; kami why did the world have to be so….broken? A soft touch on his neck as his Center kissed the side of his throat made Madara smile a bit; well, not everything was broken, not when Tobirama was beside him, bolstering him and having his back – kami he loved this man.

Chapter Text

Tobirama frowned deeply at his fiancé (his fiancé!) thoroughly unhappy with Madara’s idea and forcing himslef not to sign so fast that Madara couldn’t follow, ‘No! You will not play bait for this horror, you are far too valuable to us all and to me in particular and furthermore did you not see what Elder-shrine-cat said? That the changes on the tablet make it look like this thing wants the Rinnegan which you now have, it is far too much risk and if you won’t not do it for then do it because I am asking it of you. As your future husband I am begging you, don’t do this too me.’ some of his desperation must have shown through because Madara froze, staring at Tobirama with wide eyes and a concerned expression but – he hesitated, he didn’t say yes, he hesitated and Tobirama couldn’t have stopped the stab of betrayal that lanced through him with all the self control in the world even as Izuna spoke up, the only one that knew what they were talking about as Hashirama watched with worried eyes. “He’s right Madara, it doesn’t make sense to use you as bait, not with your new eyes and anyway I have a better idea; I can do it. Yamatohime and Kikiyo have been keeping it quiet how you are in case there was more dissent in the clan they wanted to see it, given that I look like a much more unstable target if I go to the Shrine for solace after my brother’s ‘death’, exactly the sort of target Zetsu likes if we are reading this right – and much less useful and likely to break his normal pattern for.”

Tobirama winced a little at the idea of his little brother playing bait but he could see the sense in it, it would cause Zetsu to act in a much more predictable manner than it might with Madara and therefor he would be in a lot less risk (and he wasn’t Tobirama’s fiancé!). Madara argued but even he could see that Izuna was a better choice and it was half-hearted as he tried to catch Tobirama’s eyes but the albino couldn’t quite look him in the face right now; not knowing that the one thing he had begged Madara for his fiancé had refused him (stupid, stupid to feel so betrayed about this, stupid to think that his asking would be enough to stop Madara from doing what he thought was right, stupid to think he was enough). Finally Madara subsided, grumbling but not fighting Izuna about being bait any longer as they finalized plans; Tobirama saying little as he didn’t want to force Madara to translate for him and fan language wasn’t much good with this sort of highly finicky discussion (funny how he only felt silenced when he didn't have Madara). 

Izuna shot him an understanding look as the discussion wrapped up and they decided they would act the day after tomorrow when Madara would be recovered and Tobirama should have a strong enough understanding of what he needed to do with Jujutsu. Biting his lip Izuna gestured for Tobirama to come with him as he left, following Mito out of the room (the first time Tobirama had left Madara’s sight since the Uchiha had been stabbed, it sent a spear of worry stabbing through him but – better to wait to talk to Madara until he had his stupid emotions under control and Hashirama was still in the room anyway), nodding Tobirama rose and followed his little brother out and into the room Izuna had been using as Hashirama and Madara started talking. In the room Izuna bent down at a small pile of things and dug out a stick of white incense with a quiet “ah-ha!” waving it through the air proudly and then his smile dropped a bit at the look on Tobirama’s face, “He – he won’t deny you, he wouldn’t have I mean, not when you asked like that.” Tobirama shrugged and looked away signing, ‘Did you need anything? I should go work on Jujutsu more if we are acting so soon’ Izuna’s frown deepened and he bit his lip, “Tobira –“ then he sagged a little and shook his head “no, I don’t need anything, you can go work on it, just – he really wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

Tobirama nodded stiffly and slipped out, winding his way through the house to his old lab in the Senju compound, once his one safe retreat when his feelings were hurt; now it just seemed cold and stark, his small pallet in the corner dusty and thin compared to the bed Tobirama slept on in the Uchiha compound. Kami he was being an idiot and even knowing that Madara had wanted a chance to speak to Hashirama privately didn’t help the overwhelming feeling of his own stupidity; Madara must think he was so childish and foolish to think that such an appeal would work! And who was Tobirama to ask such a thing of Madara anyway? What right did he have to tell the Uchiha what to do? Ugh, now he was letting his emotions run away with him when Madara was the one that was recovering, he was being foolish, Father would have kicked his ass for acting like this.

Shaking his head Tobirama turned to the work bench, maybe this was for the best, he needed to do some Jujutsu testing that Madara might not like so much and this way he could do it while Madara was distracted talking to Hashirama and couldn’t be bothered by a little bloodletting and experimentation. Nodding his head Tobirama forced his stupid hurt feelings out of his head and into the tiny box that he normally dumped his hurt in to focus on what he was doing, this Jujutsu would have to be strong, stronger than anything he had ever made before even if it was only to help back up Madara’s genjutsu and act as an anchor if needed – still, if he fucked it up it could have disastrous consequences so Tobirama should get to work on refining this into something he could use as well as a chakra scalpel. The albino flexed his fingers and pulled out some paper to make notes, pulling out a clean kunai and making a neat cut on the back of his forearm and letting the blood drip down and infusing it with chakra as Sara Kintsugi had taught him when using her family techniques, time quickly blurring as his focus narrowed.

Madara felt like shit. Oh not physically, physically he was feeling a lot better than he had and was improving by the hour and he had even had a conversation with Hashirama about backing off on Izuna and giving him some space as well as having an actual conversation about what he wanted and expected from the younger Uchiha and though Hashirama was much abashed for having distressed Izuna at all which made Madara feel a bit better about his brother’s situation. And he still felt like shit (why had he hesitated? It wasn’t like he wasn’t willing to give his Center anything Tobirama wanted much less anything he begged for) and Tobirama wasn’t coming back, it had been hours now and Tobirama wasn’t coming back and though Izuna had come back in to discuss the Genjutsu that Madara was going to use and said that Tobirama had been going to work on his Jujutsu and Madara – if Tobirama needed space Madara was willing to give it to him- even if it made his skin crawl a bit- but he…didn’t love it right now, not when it was getting closer and closer to bedtime and “Don’t worry about it Madara” Hashirama with a sleeping tonic by the looks of it “Tobi does things like this, he stays out late when he gets caught up in a problem, he’ll come back when he’s ready. This is a good thing! It means he’s feeling safer and less like he has to hover over you” right, Hashirama had no idea what had happened because he wasn’t fluent in NSL. Shit.

The Senju chattered on for a few seconds and then left, Madara staring at the tonic in his hand; maybe this was good, maybe it did mean that Tobirama was feeling safer and not that he was feeling rejected because Madara had hesitated in surprise at his Center begging him for something. For a long moment he stared at the tonic (it wasn’t Madara’s fault but – he hated the thought he had hurt his Center) and then set it down and bent to touch the ground, sending a sharp ping of chakra out and waiting until he felt – ah, there, a web of seals and Tobirama very faint behind it. Straightening with a bit back groan at the ache in his chest Madara set off to find his wayward Center.

Tobirama’s lab was set on the back edge of the main house where it was closer to storehouses than homes and was wrapped in seals so tight it was nearly glowing with them in use and Madara sighed, activating his Sharingan and then, on a whim, the Rinnegan, the power of the powerful evolution of his eyes finding a gap in the seal threads and neatly parting them to slip in through the door. The inside was brightly lit and Madara glanced around at all the paraphernalia of the laboratory, honestly impressed that Tobirama could make full use of everything in this room – at least until his eyes landed on the dusty and thin pallet in the corner (oh, To’ra). Movement pulled his attention from the pallet and to a work bench that was nearly hidden from the line of sight from the door, and Madara’s heart jumped at the sight of his Center, bent over the bench and apparently focused intently on something he was working on. Immediately Madara’s heart settled and he headed over to his Center, back going tight as he smelled the thick scent of blood, old and new – what in the world was Tobirama doing that he would need to be bleeding for?

“To’ra” Madara gasped as he got closer and saw that the entire surface of the bench was covered in bloody symbols. Tobirama jumped and looked up at him, looking bleary and tired in the bright light even as he smiled a sad smile at the sight of Madara. Straightening Tobirama blinked tiredly, hands rising ‘You shouldn’t be out here! You’re supposed to be resting love, especially if we’re going to be dealing with Zetsu so soon and-‘ “To’ra” Madara cut him off gently, stepping close enough to cup his forearms and then jerking back as Tobirama hissed and his fingers brushed over wetness. Immediately Madara grabbed Tobirama’s hand and flipped it over, looking at the neat march of cuts up the back of his forearm and wishing he was a healer of any skill at all as he breathed “Tobirama…” gently Tobirama took back his hands and signed ‘I need blood for the Jujutsu, mine and either yours of Izuna’s think would be best, I had to check it and hone it if I am going to use it well enough to back you up since curse-woman isn’t good enough to make a new Jujutsu this fast’ and only Tobi-fucking-rama would talk about learning the entire field of Jujutsu and then making an entirely new one in less than a week like it was nothing (had he been staying awake after Madara took his sleeping tonic? Why hadn’t Madara considered that?).

“To’ra, you should be healing them between use, and – you need to rest, I know we are running out of time but you need rest too.” Tobirama wavered, bit his lip and healed the cuts to thin lines in a flash of chakra and Madara realized with a sinking feeling that Tobirama wasn’t meeting his eyes. “Tobirama…I didn’t, I wasn’t going to say no to you, not when you asked like that, I was just trying to think though if there was an alternative and – I was just surprised you would ask like that. I wasn’t going to deny you celestial, I swear” Madara murmured, raising a hand to touch Tobirama’s chin though he didn’t push him to look up. Tobirama shivered and leaned into his hand, slowly signing ‘You shouldn’t feel you have to do what I ask of you love, I would never want to force you to go against what you feel is right – I would rather have your back. I don’t know why I reacted the way I did, I just….’ Madara hummed softly, stroking Tobirama’s cheek with his thumb. “I know I don’t have to do what you ask and it – it means a lot to me that you want to have my back rather than stopping me but I still wouldn’t deny you anything you begged of me celestial, you are my Center, my everything. I was just surprised.”

Tobirama leaned into the touch and into him, curling in close and wrapping an arm around Madara’s waist, “Its ok to not know why you reacted the way you did, we can work on it later I promise, I just wanted you to know, ok?” Tobirama nodded tiredly into Madara’s hair resting a hand on the Uchiha’s chest only to immediately recoil when Madara hissed, red eyes wide. ‘Star-burning! Come on, we need to get you to bed!’ instantly he was being hustled to the door and out of the lab, Tobirama drawing a fast seal over his bloody work bench and everything on it went up in blue-white flame. Madara sighed softly, well, at least they were on the same page again but now Tobirama was worried which was the last thing that Madara had wanted. Ah well, he could live with a little more fussing for a little longer.

Chapter Text

The next day passed with them working on perfecting the components of their plan and all huddling up together, enjoying time together before it was time to go to work and the night before Tobirama checked that his vials of blood were ready (Madara's intent eyes following him, clearly the man hadn't forgotten finding Tobirama bloody after leaving him alone for a bit and wasn't going to let it happen again), double checking elements of the plan over and over until Madara drew him to bed, dark eyes flickering over Tobirama's face and arms - lingering on the healed cuts on his forearm though he didn't mention it. Distantly Tobirama could feel Izuna sitting quietly with Mito and Hashirama, all three feeling peaceful and calm with faint flutters of excitement as they spoke but most of his concentration was focused on Madara as the Uchiha dew him into the bed, laying him out and laying over him with a soft smile, his muscular frame blanketing Tobirama’s slimmer one deliciously as his rising chakra rose and washed over the albino in a wave that blanked out everything else. The lovely minkfurclovmagma whiting out the rest of the world as Tobirama melted back into the bed, lips parting on a breath as his eyes went half-lidded; “That feel good to you celestial?” Madara rumbled, deep and hungry as he lowered his mouth to Tobirama’s neck above the nin-wrappings over the scar, brushing light kisses there and then biting sharply and sucking as Tobirama arched at the sensation, oooohhhh, that felt amazing.

Tobirama’s hands scrabbled at Madara’s back, one reaching up and sinking deep in that thick, luscious mass of hair at the root and pulling to feel the bigger man groan into his skin, franticly Tobirama shoved the yukata off of Madara’s shoulders, locking his thighs around Madara’s waist and flipping them. Perched on his fiancé’s (his fiancé!) lap he ground down and shoved the yukata off, biting sharply at Madara’s neck to hold him still as his muscles tensed under the albino. Instantly Madara went lax with a shivering sound and Tobirama licked the bite to sooth it, pleased with his Uchiha’s compliance as he pinned the stronger man down and finished shoving the yukata out of the way, licking his lips as the broad expanse of muscles available to him. In the shower he hadn’t been able to be a through as he wanted and he full intended to be now, setting his mouth on the fresh scar over Madara’s heart; the neat line recipient of light, lingering kisses as Tobirama worshiped the proof that his love was still with him before dropping his mouth to trace the line of strong pecs, biting gently at dark nipples (hmm, not as sensitive on Madara as on him, but the cut of muscles on his ribs was if the sound he made was) and moving lower as he worshiped every inch he could touch (Apollo’s belt was still a great place then) though his lover stopped him before he could get his mouth on Madara’s cock again.

“Not – not like that tonight – oh, To’ra – want – want to see your face celestial, want to see you” he breathed, eyes red as fire and blood and rubies and Tobirama shivered all the way down to his toes as he nodded franticly and let himself be pulled up. Pleased Madara stroked over him with those lovely big hands, thumbing pale pink nipples and making Tobirama arch; laughing Madara set his mouth to replacing his hands and Tobirama clawed at his back, probably pulling up blood as a big hand dropped to wrap around both their lengths, jerking them at a pace Tobirama’s overwhelmed brain couldn’t keep up with. It was dizzying, the feeling of Madara’s mouth and the hand curled around him and the chakra that sank deeper and deeper into him sent Tobirama high and higher until he soared over the edge one hand buried in Madara’s hair the other clawing at his back as the Uchiha followed him over with a long moan.

Panting they collapsed into each other, curling closer as Madara grabbed his cotton yukata to wipe them off and curled tighter around Tobirama who apologetically kissed at the scratches he had left all over Madara’s back at the man twisted to dump the fabric off the bed. Madara laughed, and waved away the green glowing hand that Tobirama raised, “No, I’d rather keep them, I want to feel you tomorrow; I know we are going to be ok and all get through this but – still, I’d rather keep this bit of us.” The Uchiha murmured stroking a hand through thick white hair, “I can’t wait to marry you” he breathed as they relaxed back into bed, “I have always wanted a big Uchiha wedding- we can add any of your traditions you want of course- but never could imaging finding someone to marry, someone that suited me, and then there was you and you – you're perfect celestial. I can’t wait to make it official that I am yours” Tobirama flushed, ducking his head into Madara’s shoulder and hair to hide his blushing face and stupid smile.

There was no good way for him to convey the same message without pulling away- which he was loath to do- but Tobirama rose his chakra and wrapped it around Madara as tightly as he could, trying to fill it up with how much he loved the older man, how much he adored and admired and cared for Madara. “Oh” Madara breathed “oh that….I love you too you know.” He whispered, sounding breathless and shocked as he gathered Tobirama impossibly closer, returning the chakra embrace; the warm minkfurclovmagma coaxing the exhausted Tobirama into a deep sleep.

Madara watched with pinched lips from the shadows his chakra suppressed and hidden as best as he could making it as his brother slipped into the Uchiha shrine, hoping that Zetsu was still there and hadn’t noticed the way the buildings closest to the shrine had been emptied out and the other shinobi that were hidden nearby. It was all going to be fine, Hashirama was right behind Izuna under every seal of hiding and tick Tobirama and Mito could come up with; all Izuna had to do was light the bad incense and pray like Madara was dying, like he was weak and unstable and susceptible to outside influence and coax Zetsu out and then Hashirama would trap it with the Mokuton and Madara and Tobirama would move in, it was a good plan, it was all going to be fine – as long as the Mokuton could hold him.

Izuna found it easier than he really wanted to think about to get into the headspace that he needed, all he had to do was access the Sharingan memory of the way Tobirama had looked as Madara collapsed to the ground with a blade through his chest and the empty hole opened up in his chest again easy as anything. (Madara, falling as light caught on the bloody tip of the blade protruded through his chest over his heart) Izuna fell to his knees with a hard sound and a jar of pain he hardly felt in front of the statue of Amaterasu-okami (Tobirama- his new brother- white and cold, smeared with blood- Madara’s blood- and on his knees as he clutched at Madara) his hands were shaking as he reached out to place the incense (the way Madara’s dark eyes fogged and his hands went limp, eyes latched on Tobirama like he was the only thing in the world as blood dripped over his lips) and light it. He clapped and bent forward, calling on specific part of the memory and every moment he had feared the White Demon, whispering to whoever was listening of his fear for his brother and his anger that his brother was gone, of his resentment of the White Demon, of its like that was their plan all along, like they always planned to take his brother away from him and then take even his body. The Demon had sent off his body without ever asking Izuna or caring what he thought even though it was his brother and what did they want with his body? Did they want it eyes? The Demon was a scientist after all, why wouldn’t he want to know how the Sharingan worked?

Madara would never have been stabbed if it hadn’t been for the Demon would he? could he have found a way to fake a centering? It couldn’t be that hard and if he had it would be so easy to destroy his brother and the entire clan, the Senju would just roll (wait, centering? Not Centering? You – that can’t be faked, that wasn’t how it worked and Izuna knew that) over the Uchiha like a tsunami, they had even strengthen their ties with the Uzumaki, who knew what horrible seals they would make with his brother’s eyes? Izuna should deal with this first (wait-) should make sure this never happened, it was up to him to keep the clan strong and his Will was so st-

CRASH

Izuna was thrown back as the wood of the shrine exploded into branches as the Mokuton burst into action, weaving an implacable net around the shrieking shadow with death white eyes. Hashirama’s eyes fixed on the shadow (oh, right, Zetsu) and his hands forming signs the big Senju knelt next to Izuna and braced Izuna, pulling him close as Madara and Tobirama burst through the ruined walls of the shrine, Madara skidding to a stop in front of Izuna and blocking his sight of the shadow of his – NO, that thing was nothing of his, but kami it was insidious. “You’re ok” Hashirama murmured, his bright strength bolstering Izuna as the Uchiha sagged into him, exhausted and shaken to the core, “you’ll be ok, I’ll make sure you’re ok.”

Madara was furious, raging and burning as his Rinnegan spun and he bared his teeth at Zetsu, which stopped shrieking and struggling at the sight of him, death white eyes wide and too-long mouth open in shock – something Tobirama took advantage of as he flashed forward and shoved both opened vials of blood in that over-wide mouth, lurching back as the thing tried to bite him and swearing as he grabbed at his arm. “To’ra!” Madara cried but Tobirama shook his head and jerked his chin at Zetsu and Madara forced himself to focus back on the shadowy thing, calling up his power in the strongest genjutsu he could use as next to him Tobirama marshaled his chakra, hands forming NSL not chakra signs as he signed out ‘Curse Technique: blood binding, Nakano’s fate’ as he cast the Jujutsu (Jujutsu had always been the technique of cursing others, rarely practiced and often considered kinjutsu it was the specialty of the Kintsugi family and now Tobirama had crafted an entirely new one - quite possibly the most brilliant thing he had ever crafted, Madara was ever in awe of his Center) and the threads of the Rinnegan genjutsu flew out and caught like hooks on fine threads, sinking in deep before Zetsu could so much as scream.

Once upon a time, long ago, after the Ōtsutsuki but long before the five countries as they were now, there lived a woman called Nakano, she was the daughter of a powerful emperor and more beautiful it is said than any but a kami and even them she might have rivaled. She grew up wise and strong with hair like liquid ink of highest quality and pale moon colored eyes, face fair and lovely and wise for all she truly wanted was to help the people she loved in her father’s kingdom and indeed she was in time a listened to advisor to her father and greatly respected, so perhaps it is no surprise that in time word of Nakano made it back to the kami themselves and in time one of them became smitten with her as they watched her practice with her naginata, and seeing that she wished to keep her people safe above all other things this kami sent Amabiko from the sea and Kudan from the mountain to teach her all the secrets of prophecy and weaving the threads of the future. She was an astute student and learned such things with skill that was second to no other mortal that had ever lived and in time she knew more about the ways of the future than any but the kami themselves.

Then did Amaterasu-okami take notice and she was much displeased, for it is not the fate of mortals to know their futures and she turned to the kami that had sent the yokai to train Nakano and told him thus “Bring her back to take a place in the heavens or stop her lips” and so the kami went down. So was the nature of the kami that he expected to be welcomed with open arms and for Nakano to return his amore with interest- for he was, after all, a kami- and take place in the heavens at his side without any argument; but he was much mistaken of her for it was not in Nakano to leave her people or love in that way that the kami wished and she rebuffed him. She was not cruel, but it mattered not, the kami was angered greatly to be rejected after all he had done for her and in his hurt and anger he was truly vengeful beyond call (some say he regretted it later when it was long past time for him to fix it) and executed Amaterasu-okami’s will with viscous cruelty.

For rather than steal her vision he cursed Nakano the most bitter of curses, that she might still know and see the future and indeed know it even better but though she saw the future none would believe a word from her mouth, a word from her hand, and any action she took to see her visions prevented or seen through she would only cause the opposite so that though she would know the future any attempt to act on it would only push the future further in the direction she sought to avoid. It was a bitter curse indeed and before long it brought terrible consequences when a traitorous army came to the gates and Nakano’s advice to not let them in was the exact reason the doors were opened to the traitor lord that cut off her father’s head, and visited every indignity on her. It was then she tired to use her curse to worse the lot of her captors but it was well laid and powerful and only pushed then further into power as it pushed them to do the one thing she wished they wouldn’t.

In the end in agony Nakano threw herself into the sea from the cliffs, laying a dark and terrible curse on the kami that had cursed her for simply refusing him, cursing that kami to never be known and never have what he had wanted from her until her soul was reborn and the wheel of souls changed (and a curse laid with the last breath, with a woman’s blood and anger, that was a curse even a kami should have been warry of).

Chapter Text

The Curse took every scrap of chakra that Tobirama had, even anchored with the blood of both Senju and Uchiha (so the curse would never break as long as either the Senju or the Uchiha blood continued in the world) and with all the brilliance that Tobirama had at his disposal as he switched to on handed chakra hand signs, changing the blood in the shadow into the seal he needed for the Jujutsu. Zetsu was fighting it, but it could not fight both the Curse and the genjutsu that Madara was casting and in trying to fight both equally it was losing to both; cracks forming in its defenses as Madara’s power overwhelmed it and Tobirama’s undercut it and though the fight was bitter and exhausting Tobirama grinned with bloody teeth as the Curse set in, worming its way though the very fabric of Zetsu until it was bound to the Curse that Tobirama had crafted and the blood it had ingested even as Madara’s complex genjutsu curled through Zetsu and trapped it. Locking the creature in a world where every word or action it took would have the opposite effect of what it wanted even as the Curse insured that by word or deed it would never be listened too (how do you defeat a creature older than chakra? How do you end the reign of something that relied on manipulation? Make it so that it can’t, ruin its ability to communicate so that it can never bend another to its will ever again).

Exhausted Tobirama swayed and collapsed against a bit of crumbling wall, clutching at the arm that Zetsu had bit where he had blocked off his Tenketsu so that the black rot he could feel in his coils couldn’t spread, though it did nothing to help the burning pain in his arm and hand. Madara’s eyes were still spinning as he finished the genjutsu and Tobirama took the chance to examine the shadow, it was strange but like this it seemed almost…diminished, reduced somehow as its featureless face looked at Madara and its too-long mouth drooped in a terrible fear and helplessness (this was, it occurred to Tobirama, probably the most cruel thing that they could have done to it, killing it would have been kinder and if they ever figured out how maybe they would; but for now Zetsu was broken and that was all Tobirama cared about at the moment).

Hushed talking pulled Tobirama’s attention to his brother where Hashirama was both keeping Zetsu contained- not that it was fighting anymore- and also trying to help Izuna who looked pale and shaken to the bone, scared and scarred if his expression was anything to go by. What had happened in those few moments that Izuna had been alone with Zetsu? What had this thing said that left the normally confident Uchiha looking like his whole world had been tipped on the side and shaken? Hashirama’s support seemed to be helping and he was all but holding the young Uchiha up at this point and Tobirama was worried if he was honest but there was little he could do while still fighting the rot in his own hand and waiting for Madara to be done.

As if that thought was a cue Madara straightened and Zetsu slumped in his Mokuton prison, the Uchiha’s eyes spinning back to the Mangekyō but staying there as he glanced over their broken enemy and then turned away, eyes immediately going to Tobirama slumped on the floor. “Tobirama!” Madara yelped, racing to his side with one last glance at Zetsu, crouching at his feet and gently tugging until Tobirama showed him his arm, the veins blackened and stark against his skin below the indents of that thing’s teeth and the glowing light of the block Tobirama had used to seal his Tenketsu below the bite. “To’ra” he breathed, looking horrified as he looked at the corrupting influence of the rot and the way it was burning Tobirama’s coils; shakily Tobirama took a deep breath and reached deep in himslef, somewhere he rarely touched as he called up all the Hatake White Chakra he could call (not much, not much at all, but…enough) sending it searing down his arm through the block into his rotting arm and arching with a scream that came out as a breathy noise with a tiny crack through his ruined throat as the White Chakra burned out the rot of Zetsu’s touch.

It was agonizing, worse than flash healing his throat, worse than the time he was staked outside in Wind country, worse than any torture he had experienced, and he could feel the chakra coils in his lower right arm cracking under the strain (thank the kami he could call chakra with one handed seals already). He thrashed with the agony, legs kicking and vision whiting out as Madara called his name, the Uchiha scrambling out of the way and cupping his face as he screamed for what seemed forever, that lovely minkfurclovmagma chakra wrapping around him and dulling the pain as it slowly receded, leaving him panting iron tasting breaths and staring at a hand that was no longer marked with black veins but now looked like it was covered in fine white lace, or frost (or lightning); the scaring from the White Chakra burning out the rot.

“Tobirama!” Madara called sounding desperate and the albino leaned into him with and sigh, nuzzling close as he caught his breath, slowly he raised his hands and signed with aching fingers ‘Chakra rot, had to burn out before it spread, used White Chakra from Wolf-mother,’ he hesitated but Madara deserved to know ‘coils damaged’ and Madara sucked in a worried breath, cupping Tobirama’s scared hand gently and tucking it to his chest with the gentlest of hands. “Ok, as long as you’re out of danger?” Tobirama nodded, exhausted “then we’ll talk about the rest later when a healer has seen to you, ok? Good. Kami you scared me” he took a moment and just kissed Tobirama’s temple, breathing him in before turning slightly to Hashirama “How is Izuna?” he called and Hashirama sent him a helpless look and shrug “Izu, hey, what’s going on?”

Slowly Izuna stirred at his brother’s voice, raising his head and blinking like it was too bright in the room as he licked his lips, “I – nothing, nothing, I’m ok, it was just….a lot better at what it does than I expected; that thing is insidious and clever and –“ he paused, shivering as he yanked his eyes from Madara (or...was it Tobirama?) “I think I should talk to a mind-healer, the things that thing snuck into my head…” he trailed off and shivered again, huddling closer to Hashirama like he was the safest thing in this room and refusing to look at them and Tobirama felt Madara and Hashirama exchange glances over his head, agreeing to watch out for each other’s brothers as Tobirama sagged into Madara, feeling raw and pained.

“It got away” Hashirama observed quietly and Madara grimaced but, well it wasn’t like they had been sure how long the Mokuton would hold it anyway and they had done what they needed to, as long as they had done everything right Zetsu was neutered and no threat anymore. Oh sure they would be writing down everything they could about it and continuing to gather information on the shadow in case it ever came back – in their lives or in their descendant’s; but it should be well and truly cursed now, broken beyond repair when in its mind it was convinced that any attempt to manipulate or even influence the events of the world in anyway would do the opposite of what it wanted, not when Madara’s genjutsu had its mind twisted around so far that it couldn’t even conceive of a world where it had any influence again, where even attempting to attack would only go badly, convinced as it was that any attempt would backfire – and if it tried anyway somehow? Tobirama’s Curse would get it (and if yes, there was an element of mental conditioning in the genjutsu, Madara would never tell Tobirama that unless he was asked. It had been Izuna’s idea in one of the few times they were apart and though it was cruel Madara had never claimed to be fair or kind – not to those that hurt his).

“Alright” Madara said, shoving his hair over his shoulders and scoping his Center up, trying not to look at that frost patterned arm “Come on, to the healing hall, and we need to fill Yamatohime and Kikiyo in on what happened so they can pass it on to the clan before Hashirama goes back to the Senju.” (Madara’s sharp eyes noticed Izuna’s hand spasm on Hashirama’s haori at the mention of the man leaving and the way he couldn’t quite look at Madara and Tobirama and a suspicion started in him) They were welcomed to the healing hall with a flurry of movement and Madara refused to let them take Tobirama, forcing them to work on the albino with Tobirama in his lap as he spoke to his cousin and the Elder, keeping half an eye on Hashirama hovering near Izuna as he was checked over and Chura- the clan mind-healer- was sent for. The next few hours passed in a flurry and Madara was unsurprised when after he and Tobirama had returned to the main house and Hashirama came to him saying that Izuna wanted to go back to the Senju with him and have the mind healer come visit him there; it…ached to let his brother go but Madara hadn’t missed the way Izuna went white when he saw them and he could guess that Zetsu must have said something to him.

“Take care of my brother” Madara warned “remember what we talked about about going slow and making it clear what the expectations are and-“ Hashirama held up a hand “I know my friend, we won’t do anything while he is still recovering anyway and we will talk to him first, I promise. Besides, I expect there will be a wedding to come back for before long and then a village after that, we’ll still be in contact all the time, I promise.” Madara’s lips pinched and he glanced at the sleeping Tobirama in his lap and nodded (why was it their younger brothers that always took the hits?), “Alright, alright, I’ll send a patrol with Chura tomorrow and every other day until she says he is ready for less, just –“ Hashirama nodded solemnly “I’ll take care of him. You take care of mine, ok?” and that, that was something Madara could do.

They shook on it and Izuna left with the big Senju without a goodbye- even a glance, now Madara wished he had done something worse to Zetsu- and Madara lost the rest of his afternoon to sitting in the tearoom with Tobirama sleeping on his lap as he dealt with the aftermath of everything that had happened with the clan in the last – kami was it only a week? By nightfall Kikiyo and Hikaku were sitting quietly with him sipping sake and talking in low voices to keep from waking Tobirama; “So,” Kikiyo started, red lips curled in a slight smile that was only slightly wary when she glanced at Tobirama even after he grounded her with nothing but his killing intent “wedding soon?” and at that Madara couldn’t help but smile, drawing a hand through Tobirama’s snowy hair (Hikaku’s looks were notably more respectful and watchful now but it couldn’t be helped). “Yes, Tobirama said yes, I was thinking of having it be the last celebration in the compound; I know you said the clan is ready to move after everything with Zetsu and if we give it two weeks it should give us time to clear the land for the village.”

Hikaku’s eyebrow snapped up at that, “You want to plan a wedding in two weeks!?” he whisper-yelped and Madara smirked over his cup, “You don’t expect us to wait do you? Us?” at that his cousin’s face twisted like he had eaten something sour even as he subsided with a mutter. Kikiyo however looked considering, “It would be good for the clan, something good to focus on after all of this and to help keep people occupied as we get ready for the move; there are a lot of people here that are frightened of staying now that they could feel Zetsu watching them and even having the thing gone won’t have helped that, focusing on a wedding would keep them positive as we get ready to move. As long as you don’t mind it becoming a clan wide endeavor this could be very smart really.” Madara shrugged laconically, “I always wanted a big Uchiha wedding, this will be bigger than I expected but as long as I am wed to To’ra I don’t really care.”

At that Tobirama stirred under his hand and pushed up to kiss Madara on the jaw, sitting up and awake but clearly still tired as he slumped on the older man, signing ‘I don’t care, as long as Star-burning is mine in the end’ which made Kikiyo smile and when Tobirama shot her an apologetic look that seemed to be enough as she nodded gracefully, tipping her cup to him. “Lets plan a wedding then, tell me about the Senju traditions” Hikaku said firmly, pulling out paper as the last of the way’s light vanished and gentle night truly set in.

Chapter Text

Tobirama flexed his scarred hand, the nearly pretty pattern catching the light strangely as his hand flexed; his range of motion was fine and with a little physical therapy he would have back full function and strength again – what he would never have back was full ability to channel chakra through this hand. Oh he could channel chakra through it to an extent but he had to be careful how much or he would overload his coils in his hand and damage it further, he could still use the Raijin no Ken and seals with it but…well, it was a good thing that he could use most jutsu with one handed signs because he sure couldn’t use his hand for that now, not since the confrontation with Zetsu three days ago; well, at least his energy was finally back, Tobirama was getting sick of exhausted naps in every corner of the house as nice as it was to wake up to Madara stroking his hair. Which, speaking of, Tobirama turned to the door of his study just as it creaked open, Madara slipping in and wandering over to Tobirama’s side, leaning down to press a kiss to the albino’s white head and scanning the desk with dark eyes.

It had been like this ever since Madara had found him in the lab in the Senju compound, Madara wouldn’t leave him alone in his study or a possible testing spot for more than an hour without coming to check on him and make sure Tobirama wasn’t testing things on himslef – no matter how much he himself had to deal with at the moment he would still find time and it was starting to set in to Tobirama exactly how much he had frightened his fiancé (his fiancé!) by being found like that, even if Madara hadn’t shown it much at the time. Smiling up at his love Tobirama curled his chakra welcomingly around his Uchiha, tipping his head back for a proper kiss and curling his hand into the inky fall of Madara’s dark hair as their lips connected. Tobirama lingered, holding his fiancé (his fiancé!) close and kissing soft and languorous until the need for air had him pulling back, leaning into Madara and chirring as those lovely big hands combed through his hair. “How’s the hand celestial?” Madara asked in a low rumble and Tobirama held it up flexing it and stretching it for his Uchiha to see, ‘Much better, I‘ll get back full use of it but for strong jutsu I think’ Tobirama signed heart aching a bit at Madara’s relived sigh as he tipped his head back to look at Madara and the lines on his face ‘How is little brother?’ he asked and Madara’s face crumbled.

Tsking Tobirama rose and bundled his fiancé (his fiancé!) into the window seat, curling into Madara’s lap and combing his fingers through the wild dark hair as he waited, finally Madara said, “Chura says he is recovering, Hashirama and Mito are being good to him and not pressuring him while he recovers but…still no word on whether he will be there for the wedding; Zetsu really got to him and –“ Madara cut himself off and Tobirama signed ‘We can wait on the wedding’ but Madara shook his head “No, the clan needs this and I want – I want to marry you as soon as I can, and who knows how long it will take for Izu to get back to being ready – I wouldn’t want him to feel rushed if he knew we were waiting. We’ll go ahead with it and the move and focus on here and now because – I can’t help Izuna right now, Chura says seeing you and me would make it worse right now so – I just….I wish Zetsu hadn’t taken this from us.” Tobirama curled closer and wrapped his chakra protectively around Madara, heart aching for his Uchiha and his little brother.

‘But he’s making progress?’ Tobirama asked eventually and Madara nodded, “Yeah, Chura says that he is going to get better, its just going to take time; Zetsu and the rest of everything that has been going on – it got to be too much without a Center I guess.” Well, that was something then, at least he was getting better but Tobirama couldn’t help but feel bad for not noticing and doing more for his little brother when he was suffering; how much worse must Madara be feeling? ‘Growing-tree will take care of Weasel-brother and Princess-red will help, he is in good hands and they will take care of him, I can feel him and his chakra is smoothing; slowly but it is’ Tobirama promised and Madara sighed, dropping his head into Tobirama’s chest as Tobirama shook lengthening white hair out of his eyes and stroked his head. “And you?” Madara asked, muffled in Tobirama’s shirt and haori, “Are you ok? Not – not going to hurt yourself again right? You know I – I’m terrified I’ll walk in on you hurting yourself again To’ra, it haunts me. I know I screwed up but, I can’t deal with you bleeding yourself even if it was needed to make the Jujutsu fast enough.”

Oh. Tobirama’s heart sank painfully and he bit his lip sharply, tiling his head down as he waited for Madara to pull back enough Tobirama could respond and thinking – he wanted to promise Madara that he wouldn’t do that again but if it was need – “To’ra” ‘I…I promise that if I come across something that would have self-testing I’ll come talk to you about it first?’ the albino offered when Madara pulled back a bit ‘I – some times I need to do it- like with the Jujutsu- and…I had the urge before and went to find you instead, I can do that, I can promise to check any self-testing with you first? I think that is the best I can do, I don’t know how to see it as a bad thing the way you want me too.’ Madara’s face twisted but he nodded slowly, apparently accepting that as he reached up to push long white strands out of Tobirama’s face. “Why do you feel the urge some times? Is there a trigger I can watch out for?” oh, oh dear Tobirama really wished Madara hadn’t asked about this. This was going to hurt him.

He licked his lips and raised his hands, ignoring the faint ache in his scarred hand ‘I – when I don’t feel – you make me feel like I matter, like I have worth, like I am more than just a blade and – like I am more than my use. When – when I don’t feel like that, when I feel like I am only worth what I can do and kill, then it doesn’t feel like it matters all that much what happens to me or if it hurts….at least if it hurts I know I can feel.’ As he expected Madara’s face crumpled, dark eyes glinting with red and looking wet and worried as he breathed “Oh To’ra….I – I didn’t mean for you to feel-“ but Tobirama laid a finger over Madara’s mouth, shaking his head. ‘You made a mistake, you explained, we’re going to screw up and trigger each other sometimes; you can’t hold onto it forever – for me if nothing else, please.’ Madara’s jaw tightened and the muscles bunched there but his shoulders sagged after a moment before he nodded, “I don’t like it but – for you. Still though, I am sorry, I should have handled that differently – yes I know I was still kind of out of it and everything, but still. I would never have made you think I would have said no to you, you’re my everything Tobirama.” At that Tobirama couldn’t help but smile, ducking his head down and kissing his soon to be husband until Madara’s chakra was warm and velvety again before drawing back, ‘And you’re mine, that’s why I am wedding you after all’ his eyes sparkled ‘how are Growing-tree’s tasks coming by the way?’

Madara groaned deeply, dropping his head back to rest against the windowsill with a dull thud as he thought about Hashirama’s tasks (damned Senju and their wedding traditions! Three tasks to be performed for the family of the one that was wedding out indeed), he was still holding a bit of wariness about Hashirama after the man had told him that Tobirama was fine in his lab – and it might in fact be a good thing! Clearly just realizing he had been messing up and seeing Tobirama’s Words hadn’t been enough to change the habits of a lifetime if Hashirama hadn’t considered – but, well, it wasn’t fair to hold it against the Senju that he had messed up and made a bad assumption about his brother, not when it took time to change the habits and expectations of a lifetime, just like it would take time for him and Tobirama to learn each other all the way. “Ugh, don’t remined me of that log’s ideas of a good task” he grumbled still cranky about the letter lining out what Hashirama wanted he had gotten this morning – one he hadn’t shown Tobirama because he didn’t want to see his Center’s face drop when he realized Hashirama was treating his wedding as a joke.

Madara had sent him back a scathing response and was waiting for a much more well thought out set of tasks that would be worthy of Tobirama; he was sure Hashirama could send one, he had just reacted and probably not thought about what he was doing or how Tobirama would take it if he found out but that still didn’t make it ok to all but mock Madara and Tobirama’s wedding like that. ‘That bad?’ Tobirama signed, a soft smile on his lips as he stroked Madara’s hair, his own increasingly long hair falling into his face again without the happuri to hold it back; Madara sighed and nuzzled into the pale, long hand “Let’s just say I’m waiting for him to send me something a little more reasonable before I do anything” he said lowly, glad that though curiosity glittered in Tobirama’s red eyes he didn’t ask any questions about what Hashirama had said. Speaking of which, a sharp call had Madara turning to the open doors to the engawa where one of his falcons Yū was swooping in, a scroll strapped to her back (finally) and anxiously Madara plucked it from the flacon’s back, letting Tobirama hold her and reward her for her service as Madara shifted until Tobirama couldn’t see the words on the scroll (bless the tradition that the Senju wasn’t to be told what the tasks were).

Madara, you are right. I am ashamed to say it but you are of course right, I should have taken this more seriously and considered further what it actually means and would mean to Tobirama. Forgive me my friend, though I seek to be better than I have before fear there are times when I forget and fall back on old patterns and will probably be more; I hope I may rely on you to always shake me back to sense and remined me of my brother’s glass heart. So, your actual tasks; first, in honor of our mother and Tobi’s love of our Hatake kin you are tasked with making a garment for him, to prove that you can keep him warm and care for him with your own hands. Second, give him proof that you shall never leave him. Third, tell me this: what is the one thing my brother fears the most for himself? Do these things and you shall have the blessing of his kin. There, that was more like it; now Madara just had to think about what he was going to make his Center (something with fur certainly) and how he was going to give him proof that he would never leave (wait, what about that jutsu Tobirama had been working on? The Hiraishin? Was the seal done yet?) and as for the last, the question…what did Tobirama fear for himslef, not for the clan or the ones he loved but for himself? Madara was fairly sure he knew but he would have to think about it to make sure he was certain of his answer.

‘Better?’ Tobirama asked, eyes warm and amused as he shoved his growing hair back out of his face again (Madara had no idea what Tobirama was doing to grow his hair so fast but he was a little jealous, he would have loved it as a teen) and Madara smiled at him, tucking away Hashirama’s letter and stroking Tobirama’s red streaked cheek. “Much better, its good your brother does have a brain when he is forced to” Tobirama laughed at that, the breathy sound warming Madara’s heart “which is good, most of the wedding is arranged – the nin-miko agreed to move the statue of Amatersu-okami into the center square since the shrine is destroyed and Yamatohime agreed do the prayers, Hashirama will come sit as your family and Hikaku will sit for me.” and wasn’t that a knife through the heart, but, sometimes you can’t have everything and having Izuna at his wedding was his for this wedding. “It’s lucky that Senju and Uchiha traditions match up so well, almost like we come from the same origin clan…maybe I will have to take those old stories more seriously.”

Tobirama clicked his tongue and nodded, eyes sad for Madara but not mentioning it to the Uchiha’s relief, long fingers stroking through Madara’s hair and idly weaving braids in patterns Madara didn’t know. It was a good moment and Madara took the time to consider – but he would have to bring it up sometime, better now when it was quiet than when they were more stressed, “To’ra, do – you –“ fuck “you have always hidden your neck, I don’t want you to force you to do something that you don’t want to but – I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide it.” Tobirama paled slightly and his fingers went to his neck, covered in nin-wrappings; even when they had been intimate the wrappings stayed and Madara – worried about it. Tobirama licked his lips and nibbled on them a bit, slowly signing, ‘I – I don’t want to make you worse, I am afraid of hurting you with the sight of the scaring – it isn’t minor, I never wanted it to ruin the mood or – or hurt you’ or destabilize him, something Madara hadn’t worried about since he woke with the Rinnegan and woke up to see Tobirama leaning over him, his whole soul in his eyes.

“I won’t lie and tell you that it won’t hurt me to see it and that I might not have a flashback but – its part of you, I don’t want you to feel you have to hide anything from me celestial.” Madara murmured, tracing the line of the top of the wrappings as Tobirama searched his face for something and slowly his long, elegant hands lifted and started unwinding the nin-wraps. His gut tightened and Madara held wished he had one hand in his as the last loop slipped free, pooling in Tobirama’s lap as Madara grabbed his hand and swallowed hard at the sight of the twisted scar on his Center’s throat, the scar he had given him (the world was washed in red and Madara cared not about the body in front of him, another expendable shinobi until, silver shards of a sword cutting through pale skin, slicing elegant pale hands to ribbons, a rush of red in the air, a gapping red wound with glimpses of lighter-tissue, blood coating a pale, slashed hand and neck and blue breastplate, thin bubbles of blood at the corners of thin pale lips as blood flooded his airway, red, slanted eyes met his and Madara’s world shifted). A hand on his cheek pulled Madara back to the present and he met Tobirama’s worried red eyes, sucking in a deep, shuddering breath; “I – I will never not hate that I gave that to you To’ra, but…I don’t hate it, not when it is part of you. It might take me some time to get used to it but – please, don’t hide it when we're together and alone.” and carefully Madara leaned forward to press a feather light kiss to the tip on the scar, shuddering when Tobirama tipped his head back and gave him more room.

Madara had often kissed this slender, pale neck but the feel of this particular scar under his lips was new and he felt tears brim in his eyes as he brushed worshipful kisses over the skin, wishing he could feel that throat vibrate with words or sounds or anything at all. But no, nothing but silence and scars and – and his Center in his arms, however they got there; Madara would always regret how this had happened but he could never regret having his Center here with him (those lovely red eyes were bright as stars to Madara’s hyper intense sight and if he had thought he could see his Center’s chakra before when Tobirama called his chakra to his eyes he was a fool; this, this was seeing everything and a day, seeing the span of a soul and a life lived for duty and loyalty warmed on scraps and spare breathes until Madara walked in like the first touch of the sunrise over snow, wiping away the dust and pain to show the crystal that was beneath and revealing it to the light. And the devotion that he was given for that, the absolute commitment of every breath, the adoration of Madara for nothing more than who he was, the unbending love that this wonderful man held for him was so world changing that Madara could swear he could feel even the wheels of fate beginning to shift.). Never regret having this skin under his lips to cover in salty kisses, never regret- selfish thought it might be- having Tobirama in his arms and his as much as Madara was Tobirama’s.

Chapter Text

Tobirama fluffed the wild strands of his white hair, finally pleased with the length he had achieved as he wove one under lock into a tight many-stranded braid, cutting it off close to his scalp and clipping a glinting bead set with chips of ruby on the end of the braid as long as his forearm. “Tobi” a female breathed behind him in his room, and he looked up in the mirror to see Touka standing in the door, dressed for the wedding a looking lovely as anything with her hair down “Tobi is that what I think it is?” she asked, wide eyed and hopeful as Tobirama shyly nodded yes. Touka made a bright joyful noise and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around Tobirama’s neck and clinging tightly as he set the Token down on the vanity to be tucked in his sleeve to give to Madara with the wedding fan Tobirama had found for him (thin ivory ribs carved in a scene of a dragon and a phoenix, the ivory from his summons). “Kami, Tobi, you finally grew your hair out again, are you going to do the Hatake braids?” Tobirama nodded again and Touka all but glowed, well aware that Tobirama had kept his hair short ever since Butsuma had told him to keep it that way with the death of his last little brother since a blade had nothing to give a Token too (even Touka and Hashirama had Child-Tokens only from Tobirama) and what it meant for him to grow his hair out and reclaim his right to care and give Tokens and be loved.

(Want me to/do/your hair) Tobirama asked with the first fan Madara had given him (the Uchiha had taken his glass fan to give it back after the wedding as per-tradition, Tobirama had pouted about it a lot) and Touka grinned at him. “I thought I would ask, for old time’s sake since you can’t see your spouse today and he’s going to take longer than you to get prettied up anyway” she offered (especially if Hashirama kept bothering Madara, though the albino did apricate that his brother was giving him time with Touka first) and Tobirama nodded, standing and waving for her to sit in his place as he worked on brushing out her hair and weaving it into a delicate but sturdy updo. “Just like old times huh” Touka murmured as he worked, a reminder of the times Tobirama helped her with her hair before; once one of the only ways he knew how to show affection and dove into headfirst (kami he even bothered Gisha into teaching him how they did their hair!) to show his beloved cousin how much he cared. Tobirama smiled at her in the mirror and Touka’s eyes got a little shinny “You really are happy with him aren’t you, he’s good for you isn’t her?” Tobirama nodded and Touka blew out a slow breath, looking relived to the bone as her shoulders sagged and Tobirama slipped one last pin in.

“Thank the kami for that, this is all I ever wanted for you” she breathed, standing and waving him to sit; though she couldn’t do Hatake braids she leaned on the wall to watch him weave them into his hair, looking more like his mother than he had in a long time. “Here” she held out a long kanzashi shaped like a feather with a razor sharp tip “something barrowed to go with something old.” the old being his mother’s hair beads he was using to hold the braids in place. “Did that fiancé of yours give you something new?” grinning Tobirama touched the sleek white collar trimmed with white fur and with a hanging purple star sapphire around his neck hiding his scar and looking much nicer than nin-wraps. Touka rolled her eyes but nodded anyway, “Hashirama has something true I think, whenever the great oaf gets up here” Tobirama laughed silently, well able to feel Hashirama being chased away from Madara by Hikaku and making his way in their direction – something he was bracing himself for a bit (what would Hashirama think of his hair? He had never said anything about Tobirama keeping it short at Father’s instance and-)

“Tobi!!” Hashirama cheered as he burst into the room, nearly upsetting the kimono rack with the jeweled obi that Madara’s mother had worn on her wedding day and making Tobirama lash out with a lick of icy chakra to stop him. “Oops” the big Senju yelped, inching away from the rack and then looking at Tobirama, whatever he was about to say evaporating on his lips as he took in Tobirama in the white underlayers and with his hair up in the Hatake alpha style. “Oh” he breathed “oh Tobi….you look….you look so much like mother” something complicated was happening on his face before it settled on a mix of nostalgia and pride (Hashirama had never imagined that he brother could look like this, that he could look so happy and content and prized, nothing like a bared blade, though not without danger and so like mother it sort of hurt to look at. And his hair was so long! Hashirama had read enough of Tobirama’s Words to know now why he had kept it short and it warmed his heart to see his brother willing to go against father’s orders like this).

“Here, something true” he held out a kunai, old, freshly sharpened and polished but with a tell tale chip near the handle that clearly revealed it to be the one that Tobirama had given him as a child for his eight birthday, the first blade Tobirama had given his brother “or at least it always has been for me.” and there was more to this than just an old gift Tobirama knew, his breath catching in his chest as his brother gave him back a bared blade, one that he said had always served him well. He met Hashirama’s eyes and saw the sentiment bright in them, the handing over of the duty that Tobirama had always done for the Senju, the blade he had always been in his brother’s hand now given back to do with as he wished. Slowly Tobirama let out a shaking breath, glad he hadn’t done his cosmetics yet as he raised his sleeves to wipe his eyes; “So Madara passed the tasks and got the blessing?” Touka cut in gently, kindly pulling attention away from Tobirama as he composed himslef.

Hashirama laughed, only a little damp, “Oh yes, he got the blessing of kin and blood, you can have his gifts after the ceremony brother” Hashirama boomed, “now they’re already doing his cosmetics so lets get yours done! It wouldn’t do to be late to your own wedding!” Tobirama rolled his eyes but let Touka turn him to paint his face, long winged kohl around his eyes and a dusting of gold over the lids and bright scarlet on his lips connecting to his chin marking before he stood so his family could help him into the white layers of the kimono and the blood colored obi stitched with cranes embellished with diamonds and rubies, and at the back on the left of the obi knot was an embroidered Kyuubi in rubies and topaz, the only pop of color other than his markings.

“Oh” Hashirama breathed again as they carefully arranged the over layer and turned him to look in the mirror “you look wonderful” there were tears brimming in Hashirama’s eyes again, dripping silently down his cheeks as he beamed at Tobirama “I – blessed stars I am so glad to see you looking like this. Madara is going to just keel over when he sees you!” the image made Tobirama smile, cheeks dimpling a little even as he blushed, for once letting himslef revel in the praise and attention; today was a new day and he was starting a new life – one of his own choosing (he brushed a hand over the kunai tucked in his obi and took a deep breath), time to go live it.

Madara was doing his very best not to vibrate where he stood in front of the entire clan in the main square before the moved and slightly chipped statue of Amatersu-okami, Hikaku at his shoulder and Yamatohime waiting in front of the statue, the waiting brazier and plain clay cup laid out and ready as Madara fingered the marriage rope in his sleeve (if only-). He was waiting for Tobirama as some of the clansmen played deep throated drums softly and all he could think was how strange it was; ever since Madara had come back the clan had treated the compound with a mix of nostalgia and horror, like finding your house was infested with spiders there had been a heavy argument to just burn it all down behind them and this, this was the send off, one last celebration in the place that had born them and buried them for generations.

Madara sighed and shifted his feet slightly, pulling his focus back to the present just as a figure in Uchiha red appeared and Madara jerked up straight, shocked to see – Izuna? His brother sent him a fleeting smile but didn’t quite meet his eyes, looking over Madara’s shoulder a bit as he took Hikaku’s place at Madara’s shoulder; their cousin clapping the slender Uchiha’s shoulder as he melted back into the crowd. “What” Izuna muttered “did you really think I would let you get married without me being here?” and if his voice was forced and his smirk strained Madara wasn’t going to bring attention to it, not when his brother was here. “I-“ Madara started and Izuna elbowed him, “Eyes to the front lover boy, you’ll miss it” the younger Uchiha sniped and it was good he did as just as Madara turned back to the front Tobirama appeared at the end of the ails, all in white and followed by his brother behind him beaming. Not that Madara noticed that much, not when Tobirama looked like a kami come to earth, glowing and brilliant and – ugh, just transcendently beautiful, so lovely Madara felt his Sharingan activate without thought, only the desperate need to remember this forever.

Tobirama reached him and smiled, wide and warm as Madara took his hand and bent to brush an egger kiss over the back of his hand as Hashirama moved into position and they turned to Yamatohime and the kami. Together they bowed to the statue and in a twist of combined chakra lit the fire in the brazier in front of the statue, Madara feeling a bit like he was floating as he kept sneaking looks at Tobirama out of the corner of his eyes and thrilled to see Tobirama doing the same as he took in Madara in his white with the red underlayer and his hair pulled up in a waterfall of inky hair with his gold kanzashi and glinting with the tiny braids Tobirama had added here and there – though given the way Tobirama’s eyes were lingering on Madara’s face he might have been more looking at the cosmetics, especially the purple sweeps under his eyes (in deference to his great ancestor) and the dark gold lip paint. Yamatohime’s voice starting the payers jarred Madara out of his staring and he ripped his eyes to the front while the Elder said blessings for good fortune and blessing on their union to the Uchiha’s patron goddess; with the last words of the prayer there was a moment of suspended silence where the smoke rising from the brazier froze in the air and the late afternoon sun slanted though the air turning it bright brilliant white as the empty plain clay cup set before the statue filled with fragrant sake, the mark of the goddesses' blessing on their union.

Smiling brilliantly Madara lifted the cup and handed it to Hashirama who was beaming and crying silently as he sipped and handed it  to his brother who also drank (after all it was a promise not to poison each other when they all drank from the same cup) before handing it to Izuna; worry flickering over the face Madara loved so much as he saw the way Izuna was still not quite looking at them. Still, Izuna drank and handed the cup to his brother with what looked to be a real smile as Madara drank the last of the blessed sake. The Uchiha tradition covered Hashirama pulled out a long decorated kunai and cut his palm shallowly before handing it to Madara to cut himslef as well and taking his hand, blood to blood, saying “And so my blood is your blood, your kin are my kin and all are bound in blood.” A flicker of Hashirama’s chakra and both cuts healed and the kunai was handed to Tobirama who cut himslef and handed it to Izuna so they could repeat the ritual; to Izuna’s credit he did the entire ceremony without flinching but it was clear it cost him and he was relived to let go so that Madara could pull out the marriage rope.

Three braided strands (red for fate, Uchiha indigo for Madara, and a deep red the color of Tobirama’s eyes for him) wound together tight and the twenty five bells (five by five for the five elements) the fine wedding rope was handed over to Izuna as Hashirama folded their hands over each other, Madara’s right over Tobirama’s left and together the new in laws started tying the complicated knots of a wedding as they bound their hands together, infusing each movement with chakra as they did. As the last knot was tied Madara looked at Tobirama and made his oath, “Tobirama, my Center, this is my oath to you; to always be your voice, to ensure that you never languish in silence, to be with you whatever comes – in this life and the next” and that was a promise he could make if he remembered the in-between place correctly. Tobirama blinked wet eyes as smiled tremulously, signing- a little clumsily given it was one handed- to Madara, ‘I will stand at you back, I will walk with your steps, I will wipe your eyes, I will share your joys, for your path is my path no matter where is goes.’ And the Uchiha beamed at his almost-husband as the last knot was tied and the chakra was infused by Tobirama and Madara, tying them together until they entered their house that night where they would hang it on the wall (to take it off earlier was bad luck to the union), where it would hang as a sign of their union and shared devotion (devotion and not love, they could fall out of love and the Rope would not fail; it was only when they no longer cared about the same things and worked for the same purpose, when their devotion to the oaths they made to each other and the gods when the Rope was tied failed so did the Rope).

Beaming they stood together and turned to face the clan, Izuna stepping forward and calling in a strong voice that belayed his shaking hands, “I present to you my brother and his husband, Madara and Tobirama Uchiha!” and the ground shook with the roar of joy that went up from the clan, celebratory katon lighting the sky until it looked like the sky itself was on fire.

“Congratulations!” Hashirama cheered, throwing his arms around both of them and hauling them close in a slightly painful hug as Izuna melted back into the crowd to join Chura with a light touch to Madara’s shoulder and a wan but honest and real smile and a mouthed ‘later’ that Madara held onto as tightly as he could, setting aside his heart ache for his brother to enjoy his wedding. “Thank you brother in-law” Madara wheezed at Hashirama, waiting until Tobirama nailed him with a hit to the kidneys strong enough it forced the big Senju to let them go with a whimper. Tobirama’s lovely red eyes narrowed on his brother and Hashirama sighed but pulled out the glass fan to give back to Tobirama who all but snatched it from his brother’s hand and nearly cuddled it before tucking it in his sleeve as Hashirama smile grew and he pulled out a second thing, the garment Madara had been tasked with making him, a haori in his mother’s Hatake style out of white and black fur with scarlet thread.

Tobirama’s jaw dropped and the stroked the soft fur with wide eyes, looking amazing and entranced as Madara preened, more than pleased with his husband’s (fully his husband now!) reaction. “One more thing” Madara said, turning to face his Center and loosening his kimono to show the new marking painted over his sternum, ‘my space time jutsu seal’ he signed staring at it as Madara nodded, “this is temporary but when it is finished I want you to tattoo it on me, so that you can always fine me.” and that it seemed was the last straw as Tobirama’s eyes brimmed over and Madara immediately hauled his husband in to a tight embrace, rocking them gently and thinking of his third task, to tell Hashirama what Tobirama feared the most for himslef and not his clan. It had been an easy answer in the end; Tobirama feared more than anything to be forgotten and silenced, to be reduced to the blade his father tried to make and left behind for it – hence Madara’s answer to his second task, a way to never lose his new husband no matter where Madara was.

Hashirama- who was good with people when he tried- called attention away from them by calling for music and feasting and fires and throwing himself into the Uchiha’s celebration with a fervor that seemed to throw the Uchiha a little; but- bless his clan- they rolled with it and accepted him into the party. Eventually Tobirama pulled back and dug something out of his sleeve, abashedly handing him a lovely ivory Senju wedding fan and wrapped around it a snowy white braid that Madara stroked with one finger, not quite sure what the meaning behind it was and not wanting to ask Tobirama while he couldn’t use both hands but knowing it was important and treasuring it. Which is why when after they had been ushered to seat and Touka ended up next to him he leaned over and asked her about the braid while Tobirama listened to Kagami chattering in his lap, the Senju woman raised a dark brow and then leaned in close to whisper the truth of Tokens in Madara’s ear and the way that they were  only given to the dearest of loved ones so that no matter where you died or what happened to your body they would lie together in death and Madara’s heart clenched. The Uchiha were careful not to never send their kin on missions where the body was irretrievable- they had to with the Sharingan- but not so with the Senju, losing the body of a loved one was a very real fear.

When Touka elaborated on Tobirama’s specific history with Token’s his hair and his mother Madara looked at the complex braids with new eyes and closed his hand tighter around the white lock, heart seizing (always another heart ache with you my beloved). “Here” Touka offered “I’ll fasten it around your wrist if you like?” Madara nodded jerkily, reassured by the strip of white below his glove and leaning over to kiss his new husband as soon as Touka was done. Tobirama smiled warmly at him when he drew back and Madara spent the rest of the night focused on his Center, letting the celebration of his clan swirl around him in a whirl of noise and joy (and a little bit of sadness, this was a farewell for the clan after all and they all knew it).

It was only when they had escaped to the empty house and untied the marriage rope, draping it over the table as they kissed their way up the stairs and out of their clothing. They spilled into the bed to the sound of the drums still beating Tobirama perched naked on his lap and stunning even with smeared lip paint as he pulled back, hands signing and the frosty scarring catching the light of the one lit lamp, ‘I want you – in me’ and Madara’s hands convulsed on the sheets. They had never done that, Madara didn’t mind but Tobirama hadn’t asked for it and Madara could make some guesses at Tobirama’s sexual history from a few comments and action so he had never expected – “Are you sure? I don’t want you to –“ a long finger was laid over his lips and Tobirama smiled down at him. ‘It’s different with you, you’re mine, my choice, my desire, my husband. I want this with you’ a hesitation ‘and I want you to prepare me – I never, I never let anyone do that and I want you to be the first.’ Which – thoughtlessly Madara flailed and found a nearby kunai (huh, old but newly sharpened, oh well) cutting a thin braid from his hair and holding it out to Tobirama as he croaked “YES”. Tobirama’s eyes went huge and he picked up the braid like it was made of spun glass, staring at it for a long time before lunging to set it on the bedside table and grab the slick Madara kept there as he used his teeth to pull off Madara’s glove.

Mind spinning with desire Madara let Tobirama slick his finger and shift them into position, thumbing the pale pink nipples with his other hand and then shifting to brace Tobirama’s hip as he pressed one finger in and the albino arched with a gasp. It was nearly unbearably intimate to know that he was the first to finger Tobirama like this, the first to touch him like this (and no wonder, he was responsive to it, of course Tobirama would keep this for himself) and Tobirama wanted him too, his husband wanted him too, kami bless. By the time Tobirama was ready he was nearly ridding Madara’s fingers, head thrown back and mouth open in silent pleasure as Madara slipped his fingers free and lined up, pressing in and losing himslef in the clutching touch of his husband, flipping them and surging into the albino as Tobirama clutched at his hair and clawed at his back. Gasping and seizing as Madara drove him over the edge, Sharingan spinning to engrave this moment in his mind as he followed his Center over the edge, covering that pale neck in sleepy kisses – especially the scar he had left there. The scar that was both the worst thing he had ever done and had given him the greatest gift he had ever received.