Fanfic entry for Pikacheeka's HashiMada contest on tumblr - 1,912 words
Growing up knowing Madara was... Well, it was interesting, to say the least.
'Madara... How the name doth ring so lightly in my ears, whilst the bearer of that name forces such darkness in my eyes. A name I learned to love even through that darkness, even through the pain he's wrought upon me, both physically and mentally. Countless battles where our blades have met, sorrow older than ourselves in our eyes and fire in our hearts. We've both lost ones held precious to us - our brothers, our parents, our clansmen and women. Yet even so, we continue. To battle, to live, to protect, and possibly even to love. Alas, such thoughts would bless me a bloody maw if spoken aloud. Madara... Even his violent antics can bring the brightest of smiles to my face.'
Hashirama wrote in his diary every day. Sometimes about Butsuma, though those entries stopped on the day of his death. Sometimes about Tobirama, and how Toka would tease him. Sometimes about a nameless woman who caught his eye from time to time. But most of all, they were about Madara. Madara, and how liberating his rare smile could be. Madara, and the secrets he shared with Hashirama. Madara, and...just Madara. Always Madara.
Hashirama continued to write about him even after they stopped meeting at the river and after they started meeting on the battlefield, their prepubescent faces lost to the horrors of war that hollowed their cheeks and hung dark bags under their eyes. On the battlefield, they shared no secrets, exchanged no smiles, only volatile attacks and the sharpened edges of swords who seldom knew the wrath of another opponent.
'Madara apparently learned a new Katon jutsu. Gōka Mekkyaku, I think he called it. It devastated the battlefield and killed a dozen of my brethren. Things are becoming more tense. It's becoming harder and harder to see Madara in the light he once held. He's a murderer, just like any other soldier on the field, no different than I. But I suppose it's that similarity between us that keeps me from hating him as my brother and the rest of my clan does. Unlike the others, I'm able to think past all this blood and death, to a peaceful future I know we can obtain if we just stop this meaningless fighting. Madara was able to see it, too, once, a long, long time ago by that river. Although I'm beginning to think he, too, has lost sight of what we dreamed of together. The very thought makes my heart wail.'
It was around this time that Hashirama began to become more harsh, and fought to kill on the battlefield. He was devastated to think that Madara had forgotten about the friendship they shared as children, and the dream of peace they both reached for so desperately. It was this sadness that blackened his heart that made him realize he couldn't give up. He, of all people, was beginning to lose sight of the future, just like everyone else had seemed to. How could he let that happen?
'I killed an Uchiha today. I looked into his eyes as he fell, and didn't see the blazing red Sharingan all other Uchiha warriors wore as they took their dying breath. Instead, I saw happiness. He was thankful to die. That look still gives me shivers.'
It then occurred to Hashirama that this war had escalated far enough. To think that people felt glad to die and be rid of this war's suffering nearly killed him from grief. He couldn't stand the thought that people might be throwing themselves at Death's arms just to find an escape. This war had to come to an end.
'I'm going to propose a peace treaty to Madara today.'
The letter Hashirama received from Madara in return to this proposal hurt him so badly that he couldn't bare to repeat the words.
'The Uchiha clan elders sent another letter today. They want to discuss the conditions of the treaty. Perhaps Madara will be at the meeting? It's been so long since I've seen him without being forced to try and kill him.'
Due to the majority's vote, the treaty was accepted and thus Hashirama and Madara became founder and co-founder of the Hidden Leaf Village, where both the Senju and Uchiha clan began to reside.
'Madara's getting better. He's not so harsh toward the villagers now, and he isn't ignoring me anymore. I took him out to lunch today and I learned that his favourite dish is Kaisendon. Funny. I never took him to like seafood.'
'I was elected as Hokage today. Tension is rising again and it's killing me. I've only just grown close to Madara again, and now that I've become Hokage he's back to ignoring me. It isn't like I wanted this title! I think the village would have been in much better hands with Madara. I'm no good with political things... Even Tobirama would have been a better choice, but people are already talking about him taking over after me. Poor Madara... I wish he'd let me talk to him.'
'Things are quiet... I don't talk much anymore... I think my brother is getting upset about that. He went to Madara's yesterday and got in a fight with him: I don't know what it was about. Someone's knocking...'
"Madara?" Hashirama quickly closed the old leather book he'd been writing it, stashing it behind some papers. He was surprised to see the Uchiha after being ignored for so long. He thought Madara was here simply for business, or perhaps to tell him to put a leash on Tobirama. Wouldn't have been the first time.
"We need to talk." On the contrary, it seemed. Madara strode forward until he stood before the Hokage's desk, eyes skimming over the piles of paper littered about. "You aren't very organized, are you?" He remarked.
"That's not what you came here to talk to me about, is it?" Hashirama retorted seriously, not wanting to give Madara time to change his mind about whatever he wanted to say. It'd been so long since they've spoken...it was nice to hear Madara's voice again.
Sighing, the Uchiha sat down in one of the seats in front of the desk, eyes studying the floor very thoroughly. Hashirama waited patiently, but at the same time was itching to continue talking to Madara. He could talk to him all day, even if he ran out of things to talk about. He was good at rambling, and he knew for a fact that Madara found it calming.
"Tobirama...came to speak with me yesterday." Madara finally stated. Hashirama nodded.
"Yes. I heard it didn't end well." He affirmed. Madara subtly rolled his eyes.
"And I take it you haven't visited your brother to talk about it, right?" He asked, voice accusing. Hashirama swallowed, bowing his head slightly. Truthfully, he hadn't. It was rude of him, he knew, but Tobirama would only speak ill of Madara and Hashirama didn't want to hear that. It annoyed him immensely, even if he dearly loved his brother. "Thought so." Madara nodded back. "So it's been left up to me to discuss things with you." He took a deep breath, as if in preparation for a long speech, and Hashirama held his. "Oddly enough, your brother seems more capable of confronting matters than you do. I hope you're not so closed off that you can't hear the questions people are asking. Why we aren't speaking, why you don't leave your office until night, why I keep looking at this damned building every time I pass it." Hashirama's eyes widened slightly at that, but had the intelligence not to interrupt Madara at this point. "You can't keep this up, Hashirama." Oh, how long had it been since he heard his name on that tongue? Far too long. "It's unhealthy, and people are beginning to worry."
"And by people...do you mean you?" Hashirama inquired quietly, knowing it was unwise to call Madara out on something like this, but at the same time not caring. He didn't want Madara trying to protect his dignity, or whatever he wanted to call it. Hashirama had seen and heard more than enough to not give a damn about that sort of thing.
Madara just swallowed. "And when people begin to worry...they do some pretty stupid things...start thinking stupid thoughts..." He glanced away before continuing. "The point, Hashirama, is that you need to start being yourself again before someone does something stupid and ruins everything." He clenched his jaw, waiting for a reply. Hashirama was just staring at him.
"What stupid thing would that be?" He asked, unable to help his curiousity. When Madara got like this, there could be a million different meanings behind his words, and one could never be sure which was correct. Sometimes, Hashirama thought, even Madara himself wasn't sure.
"Hashirama..." Madara sighed again. "Just stop this. This isn't you. You're...happy, boisterous and gullible. Not sad, lonesome and silent. You're taking my role from me." He said, clearly meaning it as a joke, but it only made Hashirama frown deeper.
"You're sad and lonesome?" He asked, audibly concerned. He knew Madara could hate excessively, and he didn't exactly try to surround himself with people, but sad and lonesome? That was just...depressing.
"Look, it doesn't matter. This is about you, not me."
"It's about both of us. You're not innocent in all this either. You haven't spoken to me since I became Hokage and now all of a sudden you're worried about me? What's changed, Madara? Why do you come here now? Why tell me these things?" Hashirama questioned seriously, desperate to know the answers. Something in Madara was different from what he remembered, he just didn't know what.
Madara looked away again. "It's not something I can just tell you -"
"Then show me, do something! I can't stand the silence between us. I can't stand thinking that you hate me because of something I couldn't control. Please, Madara. I need to know so I can fix this, so I can fix us." He was practically begging now. The Uchiha bit his lip, refusing to look up. "Madara." He finally caught those ebon orbs that always threatened to bleed crimson and throw him into a world of unknown pain and torture.
He didn't know what happened, didn't know how or why it happened. Didn't really care. What he care about was that Madara's hair was so soft, his skin so tender and smooth, and his lips...oh, his lips. He'd never felt bliss like this, never could have conceived its existence. But of course he could find it in the one thing that he'd been continuously deprived of his entire life. As children, born into feuding clans. As teenagers, forced to battle each other for the life and well-being of their families. And even as adults, for a short time, before Hashirama decided enough was enough. And now, having finally achieved the peaceful future they dreamed of as children, he was finally able to be happy. Yes, he'd obtained true happiness, despite having thought he had it when the village was established.
But no. He could never be truly happy without Madara in his life. Content as friends, and now gratified as lovers. He could never have foreseen this, but in a way he was glad he didn't. He wouldn't have wanted to spoil the highlight of his life.