#that's it for this installment of the ATTD series

[raendown]

Pairing: None Word count: 4702 Chapter: 4/4 Rated: T+ Summary: Months after the village is built Izuna is near his breaking point. Peace is nice, don’t get him wrong, but he could do without the pale shadow that follows behind him everywhere he goes. All he wants is to understand. What the hell is Tobirama’s obsession with watching him?

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Chapter 4

Stumping in to his friend’s home the next day, the first thing Madara does is sweep the building with his senses, breathing a sigh of relief to find no other signatures smoldering away in some hidden corner. Hashirama has already promised that both Mito and Tobirama will be busy with other engagements tonight but Madara knows as much as the next person how quickly plans can change.

Following the voice that calls to him from down the hall brings him in to the kitchen where he finds Hashirama with his hair pulled back and a frilly green apron tied around his front. It’s an incredibly domestic sight that drives an unexpected sliver through Madara heart. Not that he yearns for this man in any way; he won’t deny that Hashirama is attractive, any blind idiot can see that, but the giant stump is his best friend and Madara has never desired anything more from him. Rather the pang in his heart is a quiet wanting for something like this of his own. Now that he’s achieved the peace he always dreamed of he realizes more and more with every passing day that there still remains one glaring emptiness in his life. He’s lonely.

That’s not what he’s come here for, though. Nor are the questions in his mind the entire reason he’s come either but they are the foremost issue pressing at him and much more important than his desire to find a life partner.

“Just in time!” Hashirama chirps. “Could you set the table please? I forgot to before I started cooking and I don’t want the sauce to burn if I step away from it.”

“Hmph. What a great host, making me work for my dinner.” Even as he grumbles Madara moves to pull bowls and cups out of the cupboard. His eyes fall on the kettle steaming away and he quickly swaps the juice cups for teacups. Green tea with dinner sounds amazing after working himself in to several headaches with paperwork all afternoon, trying to coordinate several different projects while people swan in and out of his office indiscriminately.

“I’m just a little turned around tonight. When Mito told me that she was going to dinner with her friend in the Akimichi clan I thought ‘that’s alright, I’ll have dinner with Tobi’. But then Tobi said he was doing some sort of inspection? I think? He’s staying late at the office anyway and I didn’t want to be lonely so I thought this would be the perfect time to have a nice dinner with you!” As he chatters away he continues chopping vegetables and stirring in his pan, barely even seeming to draw breath. “Then this morning Mito said that her dinner was cancelled since her friend I think picked up a cold or something and that made me worry; you and her don’t really get along that well. So here I am trying to run around and figure out something else to cook that would be fast so we could all eat then you and I could go off on our own somewhere but then she got called over to have dinner with a different friend and I’m just–”

Madara cuts him off before the flood of words can drown them both. “Flustered, yeah, I can see that.” His companion sends him a painfully grateful look.

“You’re always so understanding, my friend.”

“Ugh.”

Doing his best to ignore the fond smile the other man directs at him, Madara sets the dishes out and retrieves the kettle only moments after it boils, transferring the water in to a teapot to properly brew them a batch of green tea. Then he sits himself at the table with a sigh and decides that subtlety is for people worried about offending others.

“Can I ask you about your brother?”

Hashirama's smile turns to curiosity. “Tobirama?”

“No, the other brother that you’ve hidden for years. I’ve uncovered your secret.” When his friend only continues to stare at him with a blank face Madara rolls his eyes. Sarcasm is wasted on this idiot. “Yes Tobirama. What is his deal?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“What is his deal? What’s his problem? Did you know that he’s been stalking Izuna around the village since we all moved in here?”

Judging by the look on Hashirama's face he hadn’t known that. Something pops in the pan behind him but the tension between his shoulders is painfully visible as he turns around, voice drifting back across the kitchen with an undertone of caution.

“Can you give me a little more detail?”

“More than you want, probably. I can’t believe you haven’t noticed this! Every time my brother’s in the tower yours is right there up his ass, staring at him from across the room, standing so close they’re practically breathing the same air. And when he’s not in the tower it’s even worse! Tobirama follows him all around the village like he thinks he’s being sneaky – except he doesn’t even bother to conceal his presence! That’s probably the biggest insult of the whole affair!”

As he listens Hashirama removes their dinner from the stove with slow movements. In a strangely quiet voice he asks, “How long did you say that this had been going on?”  

“From the day we all got here, as I understand it. I don’t remember if he was doing anything funny the few times we saw him before the migration, neither of us thought to pay any particular attention to him, but I know for sure he’s been stalking Izuna for months now.” Madara scowls. “For the most part Izu’s just confused. Irritated. He’s gotten pretty riled up a few times and said something about beating some sense in to his little shadow but an incident like that could be detrimental to clan relations right now.”

“Has Tobi seemed angry at all?” Hashirama's expression says that he already knows the answer but needs to ask the question anyway.

“No. Well, not at Izuna. He looks really pissed at whoever gets close to my brother and that’s probably the weirdest part. It’s started a few different rumors but Izuna’s convinced that it means Tobirama wants to kill him still and that he wants to do it himself.” As much as Madara can follow the sketchy logic behind that idea he still can’t make himself believe it.

Which is why he feels a very brief flash of vindication when Hashirama shakes his head to deny the half-assed theory. It’s always nice to be right, especially as an older sibling. The flash is very short-lived, however, in the face of how deeply troubled his best friend looks with every word he takes in.

“You’ve noticed some things that I haven’t it seems. I-…I should have been paying more attention. Especially with-” The words cut themselves off for the man to let out a morose sigh.

“Go on?”

“If he doesn’t seem angry then how would you say he does look?”  

“Uh?” Madara scratches the back of his head, trying to picture a face in his mind that he’s honestly never concentrated very hard on. “If I had to put a name to it? Sad. He doesn’t look violent or yearning or angry, he just looks, I don’t know, resigned I suppose.”

As though a great weight has just fallen upon his shoulders Hashirama closes his eyes and trembles. “Oh Tobi…”

“There’s something we’ve been missing about this, isn’t there?”

For a long time there is no answer. In silence Hashirama plates their dinner, his eyes far away from the food he carries over to the table. Only the fact that such a mood is incredibly unusual for him holds Madara's tongue until finally he watches the man fade back in to reality looking somehow even sadder than before. Wetness gathers and clings to his eyelashes, so different from the way he is normally given to massive crocodile tears streaming freely down his cheeks.

When he speaks again it is soft and solemn. His words are heavy with a pain that Madara both can and can’t understand, the pain of almost in a way he’s never quite experienced, a pain borne in the name of another you cannot help.

“During the final battle between the Uchiha and the Senju, I’m sure you remember what stopped the fighting.”

“The apparition,” Madara breathes. He can hardly believe that he’s forgotten.

“It was no apparition.” Hashirama drops his gaze to the chopsticks before him, fiddling at the ends without picking them up. “That really was my Tobi. Older but the same. He- it was- it’s hard to explain. You know how smart he is and how he likes to research seals. Apparently years from now he will – did? – invent a seal allowing him to travel back in time and he used it to…to…”

Once more the words stop coming but this time Madara understands as he listens to Hashirama's voice crack and break on a muffled sob.

“Take your time,” he murmurs. He jolts when Hashirama finally meets his eyes, stomach clenching as he takes in the pain and helpless despair staring back at him. He has seen that look before.  

“He travelled back in time to kill himself.”

“What!?” Madara sways in his seat with disbelief.

Hashirama brings his hands in close to wring them together. “It’s the truth! And he said the most awful things! Madara, he saved Izuna’s life that day. He – the one from the future – he said something about killing Izuna and that it ‘broke the world’. Said that he would rather kill himself so that I could keep my dream!”

So many different emotions and thoughts and reactions all clash together in Madara's chest he has to clamp one hand over his stomach for fear that it all might come spilling out over the table with shock. It’s too much to take in at once. He remembers that they’d had their speculations, of course, over what had really been going on that day. Yet he also remembers that it had seemed so unimportant in the face of peace, of lifelong dreams coming true, securing the future for his clan and the only brother left at his side.

“Let me see if I’ve got this right,” he mumbles. “There were two Tobirama because one was him from the future. He was trying to kill himself in the past.”

“Yes! That’s why he disappeared! Or that’s what Tobi says, anyway.”

“Right. And he was trying to kill himself because…he didn’t want…to kill Izuna? But he didn’t kill Izuna.” Madara scrunches his face with confusion, not entirely following. He distinctly remembers seeing his brother this morning and the man was most certainly not dead.

“No I know that. That’s the point. I told you it’s complicated!”

When all he does is cock his head to one side and frown Hashirama sighs and wrings his hands tighter.

“In the life that the older Tobirama lived he did kill Izuna in that battle. But because of that Izuna’s death somehow kicked off a different set of events that led to this village failing, I think. The destruction of my dream. So he came back in time to stop himself from killing Izuna…by killing himself instead. For me.” Another sob cracks his voice and Hashirama closes his eyes.

Madara can understand why. The reality of what he hasn’t known comes crashing down over his head like a mountain crumbling to bury him underneath the hurts he’s had no idea his friend is carrying around. It’s hard to decide what to freak out about first. Should he give in to the shadow of panic that Izuna dies in another world, would have in this one if not for the future’s intervention? Or should he close his eyes in solemn solidarity with the idea of having another love you so much they will damn themselves to lift you in to the light? Either way he has a very strong urge to go home and hug his brother tightly.

Although he isn’t sure he could bear to explain why at the moment.

“So he’s...what? Following Izu around and trying to find a way to apologize? Atone?” Guilt touches him for the way Hashirama flinches at his words but he needs to know as much as he can and this is a conversation he doesn’t wish to put his friend through a second time.

“No, I don’t think so.” Hashirama frowns. “I should have been paying more attention. He seemed to be doing so much better since we came here.”

“Well then what do you think he’s up to? There has to be some kind of reason he’s stalking my brother and I get that it’s probably connected to what happened but I can’t see exactly how.”

“If I know my brother then…then I think he’s trying to protect Izuna. He was so worried that something might still happen, convinced that if Izuna died in any way it would bring everything we’ve built crashing down. It would be so like him to take it upon himself to make sure that doesn’t happen. Oh, my Tobi…”

As Hashirama crumples in his seat Madara fights through the ever-increasing levels of shock keeping him rigid where he sits, dragging himself up out of the fog through sheer force of will to walk around the table and awkwardly pat his friend on the back. Comfort has never been a great skill of his. Trying to do it while he is still reeling himself leaves him feeling more awkward than ever but at least Hashirama seems to appreciate his graceless efforts. After taking a few deep breaths to collect himself the man turns to look up at him with shining grateful eyes that immediately send Madara scurrying back to his side of the table and practically throwing himself in to the chair as though it might shield him from any possibility of an unwarranted hug.

“Protecting him, that’s unexpected,” Madara admits once he is settled. “I think I might have jokingly suggested that but I would never have believed he was really playing guard dog.”

“My brother is not a guard dog!”

“He’s appointed himself as one,” he corrects, perhaps a bit harshly.

“Ah. Yeah. I suppose you’re right. He seemed to be doing so much better since we came to the village. And he was talking to me so well before, confiding. I never would have thought he’d slid back this far.” Hashirama shakes his head.

Loathe as Madara is to be the one pointing it out, he has to ask. “Are you sure he was confiding in you? Or was he just putting you off because he didn’t want you to carry his burdens?”

The widening of Hashirama's eyes tears at his heart and he is more than happy to let the conversation taper off for a short while, both of them eating in silence. He regrets starting their night off with such a terrible subject, mentally kicking himself for his lack of patience, making it even more of a relief when his friend eventually begins to haltingly murmur about something that happened at the tower that afternoon.

He does his best to be a better friend for the rest of their visit. By the time he goes home a couple of hours after dinner Hashirama has stopped looking as though he might burst in to tears at a moment’s notice, so there is that. Tobirama is probably in for a nasty surprise of a conversation when his brother catches up with him and yet Madara can’t bring himself to feel guilty for that. If the man truly is so caught up in his obsession it will probably do him some good to have the one he trusts most knock some sense in to that spiky head of his.

Walking home in the dark, Madara closes his eyes to let his feet continue on the path they know by heart while he stretches his senses out, picking through the confusing mass of signatures as best he can until he finds the one that burns the brightest in his eyes. It comes as no surprise to find Izuna waiting for him at home. Since he knows that his brother is probably waiting impatiently for the answers they’ve been wanting so badly he picks up his pace and hurries along, nodding to the voices that murmur greetings without stopping to chat as Hashirama has been encouraging him to do lately.

Building a rapport with their citizens can wait. This is a more immediate issue.

Izuna springs off the couch as soon as the front door opens, immediately freezing and sliding back down on to the cushions in an effort to seem as though he is only changing positions. Madara hopes he remembers to tease the idiot for that later.

“So how was dinner?” his brother murmurs with affected nonchalance.

“He knew the reason, to answer the question you really wanted to ask.”

Watching his younger sibling literally trip over his own feet trying to lunge off the couch a second time is just the sort of thing that Madara needs to lift his own mood after spending all evening trying to repair someone else’s. Izuna scowls and grumbles in to the tatami mats, crawling across to roll himself under the kotatsu blanket instead and glare until Madara joins him, wheezing with his efforts to contain the barks of laughter trying to spill out.

Amusement can only last so long in the face of such serious news, however. Only a minute or so after he sits down and tucks himself in Madara is talking a deep breath to sober himself again as he tries to sort through everything he’s learned and figure out how to pass it on.

Izuna listens with the sort of serious expression he normally reserves for war meetings and battlefields, brows drawn towards each other in a deep frown that wrinkles the sides of his mouth as well. Though it isn’t exactly surprising that he is able to keep himself from interrupting his silence is almost creepy considering how vocal he’s been about this entire affair since it started. All the frantic energy that he’s clearly been holding inside as he waits at home draining away slowly, bit by bit, gradually replaced by a different sort of tension with everything that Madara has to say. When the tale is over he crawls around the table to lean against his brother’s side.

“Well,” he murmurs, “at least he’s not secretly in love with me.”

“That’s all you have to say!?” Madara squawks.

“Honestly I don’t know what to say to any of that. Somehow the fate of this village rests of my survival? That’s a little strange to think about even if I can sort of imagine why.”

Brought up short, Madara looks down at the head nuzzling in to his shoulder. “You can?”

“Yeah, easily. If you lost me can you really say that you wouldn’t go a little ape shit?” Izuna looks up at him and waits until he concedes with a wry nod then adds, “Now imagine if you were somehow talked in to making peace with the man who killed me.”

The very thought makes him shudder. It’s impossible to imagine a world where he could allow himself to be somehow tricked in an action so terrible – and yet he realizes with a jolt that this is exactly what they have asked of both their clans, of every clan who agrees to move here and call themselves a shinobi of Konohagakure. All that differentiates himself from so many others is the penance he would pay for the powers gifted to him by the Sharingan. Izuna is right; the death of his most precious person would drive him over the brink of madness. Perhaps not right away but the descent would be inevitable from that moment and the process made faster if he were forced to interact with the one who took so much from him.

“So how do you want to handle this?” Madara asks, shaking away the what-ifs he hopes he never has to deal with.

“First thing I think I need to do is go scream in his stupid face. What the hell is he thinking? I mean this whole thing is crazy but if what he did to – what did you call it? – break the world was to kill me in that battle then when his older self came back through time to attempt sui-murder-cide then wouldn’t that have, like, changed the course of events right then? Things should be fine now. I think.” Scrunching up his brow, Izuna’s eyes fall to one side as he tries to think his way through what he’s just said.

Having had a few more hours to wrap his head around all these strange concepts gives Madara the confidence to nod that his sibling has spoken correctly. “That’s how I understand it.”

“Right, so then everything should be fine now. No need to panic. Definitely no need to be following me around like some overenthusiastic babysitter.”

“Be gentle. We both know that I’m the one who’ll have to listen to Hashirama if you aren’t.”

“No promises.” Izuna sits up straight with a sharp look in his eyes.

Madara rolls his own. “At least wait until tomorrow then. He’s probably going to have his hands full with his own brother tonight and I doubt either of us want to be around for that flood of tears.”

Pausing for both of them to shudder, Izuna leans over to rest against his shoulder again.

“Good point,” he admits. “I suppose it can wait until tomorrow. He’s always right there when I get in to the tower so kami knows he probably comes looking for me in the mornings even before I think to check whether he’s around. The second I find him, though, he’s getting the third degree.”

“If you think you can pin him down long enough to listen then more power to you,” Madara scoffs.

As it turns out, the task is both easier and harder than either of them expect. For once in his life Tobirama comes when he’s called, stepping in to the office when Izuna hails him the next morning and looking entirely unperturbed to be shut in to a room with two determined looking Uchiha. Now that he knows to look for the signs Madara notices the man even relaxing a small bit. If not for what he’s learned recently he might never guess that relief is from seeing Izuna locked away safe from the rest of the world.

When the focus of his obsession demands to be left alone Tobirama refuses him flat out with no hesitation, not even a hint of surprise. Clearly there had indeed been another conversation the night before.

“I can handle myself,” Izuna groans after the two of them have gone in circles of demand and refusal several times.

“Your skill indeed is a close match to my own but this is not something I am willing to chance.”

“For fuck’s sake, why?”

Tobirama’s answer brings silence like the cutting edge of a blade.

“Your survival is essential to the survival of my brother’s dream and I will do whatever I have to in order to protect that. If that means I must give my life in place of yours then so be it.” For such profound words he speaks with the lightness of a man who has spent hours considering them. The ease of total belief in a chosen path.

In the wake of his declaration neither of the Uchiha siblings are able to find words for quite some time. Tobirama, strangely, waits contentedly as they try to find their bearings. Whether because he feels better here where he can keep an eye on the one he so desperately needs to protect or simply because he wants to get this over with now so no one will track him down again later, all he does is fold his arms and wait with the air of a man not particularly in a hurry to be anywhere else. Which is ridiculous. He probably has more to do than either of them put together. How he manages to complete his duties around all the stalking is just yet another mystery.

After several minutes have passed Izuna is the first to recover, visibly bracing himself to speak.

“For your brother, huh? I guess I can understand that motivation. I don’t like it, still think you’re insane and need some help, but I can understand. Look, if you’re going to follow me around like a creep anyway at least just come sit in the room with me or whatever.”

“What!?” Madara is jolted back in to motion with indignation. “You’re just going to let him keep stalking you!?”

“He’s going to do it anyway! At least if he stops pretending to be sneaky about it, I don’t know, it would just lower the creepy factor for me.” Izuna shrugs.

Tobirama’s head falls to one side as he contemplates the offer, a little dubious, but in the end all he does is nod and turn to leave without another word. He has an obsession but he also has things to do and when they’re all piled on top of each other here in the tower it’s only too easy for him to monitor Izuna’s chakra for any signs of distress or danger. Considering his sensitivity it would not be outside the bounds of his ability to keep track of every chakra signature that enters and leaves the tower to watch for possible threats.

“Are you insane?” Madara snaps the moment the door is closed, uncaring whether or not Tobirama can still hear them through the wood. His sibling rubs at the space between his brows with a long suffering expression.

“Maybe, who knows? I meant it when I said I could sort of understand his motivation but…think about it. Rather than following behind all the time or hiding in the shadows, if he’s there in the room then it would all feel a lot more normal.” The hand falls for his eyes to linger on the doorway. “And if he’s there in the room then maybe we can show him that I really can handle myself. There’s nothing for him to worry about. Or maybe convince him to get help or some shit.”

The two of them share a look. Madara holds the other’s eyes for as long as he can but in the end he is forced to concede to this as well. It isn’t like he has any better plans himself.

Eventually Izuna wanders off back to his own office as well, leaving Madara alone to stand by the window and look out over the buildings around them without truly seeing anything. All he sees is the sky, blue and never-ending, a freedom he might never have been able to admire again if not for the last piece of his family left in this world. Izuna isn’t the only one who can see merit in Tobirama’s motivations, hard as that is to admit.

Something dark and heavy lies faint on the edge of the horizon, a storm that looks to be coming their way. As he examines the shape of it Madara can’t help his inner Hashirama from comparing it to the climate hanging over the near future. Life promises to be very strange for a while, stranger even than it has been for the last few months, and it chafes that none of them can predict what the outcome will be. He knows as well as any farmer that a storm does not have to be a bad thing. Crops need the rain, summer heat needs to be broken, assassination targets need to be driven off the road in to vulnerable places like roadside inns. Many things might follow a storm.

He can only hope that when the rains pass the sun will come again for all of them. Strangely, against everything he has been raised to believe, he finds himself hoping the same for Tobirama.