Warnings: a very mild mention of death and an OC that is mentioned for about a sentence. This is probably the mildest and most peaceful thing I've ever written though, so don't worry much, just go ahead and read.

(sort-of-AU where Izuna lives)

Madara watched wordlessly as Hashirama was currently attempting to wrap a horribly ugly scarf around his wife. Regrettably, his taste hadn't improved at all ever since they were kids, and Mito, just like every sane person would, protested against such a thing coming anywhere near her face.

It was odd really, seeing the two of them playing around, almost like kids at times, when in fact they were newly wed powerful shinobi. A marriage that was born from a political alliance should by no means have resulted in that, yet here those two were in the falling snow, essentially wrestling with each other and Mito nearly choking her loving husband with a scarf in the process. In all honesty, no matter how much Madara cherished his childhood friend, Hashirama would have deserved that one.

Seeing the two of them reminded him of Izuna and his bright red cheeks upon seeing that green eyed kunoichi earlier that week. Try as he might, Madara's little brother could hardly hide his infatuation with the young woman who seemed completely oblivious to all the signs. As the leader of the Uchiha clan and a renowned warrior of the land of fire, only rivaled by Hashirama, Madara prided himself on not fearing anything apart from the loss of his younger brother. Though if he wanted to be honest with himself, Izuna coming to him heartbroken and asking for relationship advice, he just might consider packing his things and leaving the village. A truly horrifying scenario.

A strong gust of wind brought him out of his thoughts and he suddenly became aware of just how cold it had gotten. The snow was steadily stacking by his feet, and he would have bet an awful lot of money that the little Uchiha kids were currently making a competition of who can turn more of it into water with fireballs. It's not like he hadn't done that as a kid, after all, and Izuna had practically created a lake at one point in his life. The memory of that brought a fond smile to his face, one that he wasn't even aware of.

'Do you think those two will stop before getting frostbite?' he heard a familiar voice from his right. Tobirama, pale, white haired Tobirama was standing right beside him, and in spite of the frequent quarrels they had during meeting and the general mistrust towards each other, Madara found himself snickering. Tobirama reacted by taking a step back, assuming that if Madara laughed in his vicinity, someone was going to die. No, it wasn't an exaggeration, it happened before, just ask anyone who was there during the negotiation with the Grass country's elders.

'What?' he asked guardedly, not trusting the Uchiha one bit. Madara finally stopped and looked at him, eyes dark as usual, not a hint of the sharingan – or true animosity for that matter.

'Nothing, I just remembered something,' he replied with a wave of his hand. Tobirama wasn't going to let this anomaly slide that easily though.

'Care to explain?'

'Well…' Madara began, his eyes settling on the couple that had gone from scarf wrestling to Hashirama whining about the huge chuck of snow Mito had shoved down his robes 'I once told your brother that if there ever was heavy snow in Konoha, you would blend right in – like a snow rabbit or something. But I guess,' he continued as his gaze shifted from the Hokage and his wife to Tobirama's face, 'I was wrong.'

Tobirama rolled his eyes at the statement.

'Obviously. I'm wearing quite a bit of black,' he motioned at the several layers of clothing on his body, 'it would be a remarkable feat to mistake me for snow.'

Madara decided to leave it at that. He was in a mood too good to ruin it by explaining something so trivial to Tobirama. If he wanted to be difficult and pretend not to understand that the snow thing was about his face, well, that was his problem, not Madara's.

'Anyway,' the Uchiha spoke up, 'did you come to pick your brother up?'

From the corner of his eyes he saw Tobirama glancing at him warily, as if to assess whether the cordial tone was part of an elaborate trap. Old habits die hard, it seemed, and Madara knew it better than anyone.

'His mangled body, actually,' Tobirama replied with a poker face, but that didn't fool Madara. The younger Senju brother, the one with a stick up his ass had just cracked a joke.

'The next time he tried to bring such an outrageous scarf to a woman, especially to one like Mito, he probably will,' Madara nodded in agreement. Tobirama only hummed quietly.

The two of them continued to watch as Mito and Hashirama lightheartedly bickered and ended up in a snowball fight.

'So this is the 'peace' that brother dreamed about,' Tobirama mused. Madara glanced at him, guessing that the younger man was probably talking out loud without realizing it. In any case, he took his chance with replying.

'Seems like it. Death rates are a fraction of what they used to be and people smile more,' Madara shrugged, 'it looks good enough to me.'

'Right…'

'Is there something you want to say, Tobirama?'

It hadn't slipped the red eyed shinobi's attention that the name was, for once, not laced with venom. It was a rare occasion when Madara called out to him without a single hint of irritation. It must have been a special day, all right

'I was wondering if you wanted to take a look at the curriculum I put together.'

Madara raised an eyebrow at that.

'Curriculum? As in, the training plan you made for the little brats?'

'That's… one way to put it.'

'Well,' Madara shrugged, 'it's not like I was in a hurry anyway. Your office?'

'Yeah.'

The Uchiha started walking in the direction of the building where Tobirama kept most of his drafts, only to see that he was still standing in the middle of the snow.

'Look, your brother has survived three months with the Uzumaki woman and most of the time he was alone with her. He'll be fine…'

Tobirama's eyes shifted from a happily laughing Hashirama to Madara and maybe it was just the older shinobi's imagination, but they seemed a lot sorfter.

'Right. Let's go.'