A short HashiMada drabble because I'm bored and I'm feeling sad.
I disown characters.
He hid his chakra the best he could. He didn't want anyone finding out he was there, he didn't want them to know he existed, and he defiantly did not want to ruin that beautiful sight taking place a couple of meters away from his hiding place high in the trees.
He felt pathetic, having to spy on him. He should be angry that the other man was glowing in the sunlight, being loved by everyone, especially the beautiful, bouncing five year old running around the meadow as she collected flowers than ran back as fast as her little legs could carry her to place them on her grandfathers graying hair while he had to hide in the shadows with no one to talk to, no one to love him, no one to know he was alive; but he couldn't be angry. He was happy, overjoyed even, to find that the other man was happy. He couldn't have asked for anything better; he deserved the very best.
He watched as the older man took his grandchild in his arms, holding her high in the sky as he spun them around. As the little girl giggled, his mind drifted to those times, oh so long ago, when those same hands would wrap around his waist and pull him towards a large broad chest in a tight embrace. Oh, how they filled him with warmth. And, sometimes, when the other man was in a playful mood, which was often, he'd use his bigger built to his advantage and would pick up the smaller man, much the same way he was doing now with the child, and he'd spin him, round and round. He'd shout and threaten the other to put him down, but eventually, the other would win him over and he'd start laughing as well. Sometimes, he'd even extend his arms to the wind as he was spun which resulted in a big mistake because the two would find themselves on the floor laughing at their stupidity.
"Grandpa," came the voice of the child as the man sat down and pulled her to her lap, breaking Madara from his thoughts.
"What is it, Tsunade?"
"Did you ever love anyone other than grandma?" She looked up at Hashirama with curiosity.
Hashirama's eyes shot open at the question and remained silent. He sighed and turned to look at the sky. His mind was flooding with memories of the beautiful raven that had taken over his heart and mind ever since that fateful day by the river bank when he'd spot the other boy pathetically trying to skip a rock across the river.
Madara stared down at Hashirama unbeknownst to him that both where remembering the same moments the two had shared. The days as little kids from rival clans sneaking away from the war and share brief moments of their childhood and envisioning a future where everyone could live in peace and happiness. The years of battles and bloodshed when both became leaders of their respective clans. The pain one had suffered at the loss of his brother, the one most precious to him. And then, the happier times, when their clans became allies, and all the joyous times that followed, like their bodies pressing against each other as the two became one; all leading up to the day Madara, feeling cornered by the expanding power of the Senju over the Uchiha and the betrayal of the clan he tried so hard to protect, fled the village and became a threat. The day Hashirama was forced by his duty to his village, their village, to kill the Madara, the love of his life.
"Grandpa?" Tsunade's voice broke both men from their thoughts.
"Hmm?" Hashirama turned to look back at his grandchild. "Oh, right." He ran his hand through her pig-tails with a smile. "Well, yes actually. There was one person I loved with all my might."
"Ooh. And who was she?"
Hashirama smiled and answered, "Well, his name, my dear, was Madara."
"Madara? As in, your best friend, Madara?"
"Mhmm." Hashirama nodded.
"But he's a boy, "she seemed confused.
"Well, yes, but true love isn't defined by boy or girl. it's defined by how the person makes you feel here." He pointed to her heart. "And he filled mine with so much love." A sad smile spread across his lips.
"Why are you crying, grandpa?" Tsunade put her little hands on his checks and wiped away a fallen tear.
"I loved him so much, sweetie. To be honest, I still love him." He brought his index finger to his lips and winked. "But that's our little secret, okay, honey?"
"Yes, sir!" Tsunade giggled as she stood up and continued to run around.
The wind picked up catching Madara's hair and for a few brief moments, Hashirama could have sworn he could smell Madara's scent in the wind. His gaze drifted to the spot Madara had hidden not a few seconds ago only to find it empty.
Madara had left; a smile on his lips. Hashirama still loved him, just like he loved him. He could never forgive the Senju for what was becoming of the Uchiha, but Hashirama's love made it a bit bearable. He walked back to his cave and let the day's events replay through his mind.