[9]

Bizarre though it was, the whole situation felt a tad bit more ... humorous. After all these weeks when he hadn't shown up at all, he suddenly does, with a proposition to boot.

"So, what do you think?"

"Personally, I think you're mad."

Tobirama arched an eyebrow questioningly. "It's not that mad, you know. I mean, after what happened with Izuna, you probably don't want to talk with me, but with that aside – it's not mad. I didn't wake up one morning and think 'oh, I'm going to be mad today!'"

Kizuka raised an eyebrow at him and said nothing.

Sighing quietly, Tobirama leaned closer to her face, his breath caressing her nose and cheeks. "Would you consider it?"

"I'll think it over." Kizuka agreed.

Like whenever Tobirama expressed his emotions, his little smile was fleeting, but like always, Kizuka managed to glimpse it. The corner of her lips twitched. For almost three weeks, Tobirama hadn't come into the gym – and she'd even checked with the receptionist, by the end of the last week. She told herself that her attachment to Tobirama was purely friend-related and nothing else, as it was nice to talk to someone outside of work and to not mention work. God, she was beginning to wonder if men's brains even operated like a real human's; Izuna had changed a lot over the last few weeks. It was like he had been replaced by a robot.

"So," Tobirama chose to break the silence as they steadily trudged along on the treadmills. "Have you heard from him lately?"

Kizuka lowered her head slightly. "No, he only ever calls when he wants money. Obviously I don't have enough to get a new phone, but I think that's what he wants sometimes. It gives him control, you know?"

"Mm," Tobirama hummed.

Kizuka sighed, her hand loosening its grip on her water bottle. "I think ... I'm not sure how to say it," She paused, inhaled and explained, "Ever since my mum died, he hasn't had an income other than benefits because he's unemployed and 'disabled'," She used air quotations; Tobirama nodded in understanding. "The thing is, though, that I don't have the money to give to him. He drinks—actually, he probably drinks more now my mum's gone—and he gambles too. I remember a year after they'd got married, he would always go straight into the bookies before he went to work. He was a builder once." She added on at the end.

"Oh, right."

"So ..." She bit her lips, not even glancing at Tobirama. "Where have you been?"

"Well," Tobirama cleared his throat, his eyes straying from Kizuka to the wall in front of him. "I had an argument of sorts with Hashirama. I haven't been home and have been, instead, away in the city of Kirigakure. It's ... okay over there, I suppose. Quite misty, and hard to drive, but it's all right for the short-term. When I came back, two days ago, I didn't really want to go straight back home, so I've been living in the sleeping quarters in the warehouse for the past two nights."

"You should careful," Kizuka reproved, "If you leave it too long, you might miss the chance to recoil with your brother."

"Don't worry about that," dismissed Tobirama casually, "Hashirama bounces back quicker than you'd think. He's annoying like that."

Kizuka cracked a small smile at his words.

"Don't you have any step-siblings or anything?"

"No," Kizuka shook her head. "I have a step-dad, an uncle and that's it. My uncle lives out in the countryside, though, so I don't see him that much. He and my mum didn't keep in good contact either."

Tobirama nodded. "That's too bad."

Hauling Izuna out of his car and up the stairs to his apartment, Madara grumbled under his breath about how much trouble keeping a younger brother was and how he now wished he had a sister instead. Sure, he'd have to beat up all the boys who would chase after her, but it'd be easier at the end of the day. Having a little brother, especially one that was besotted with the idea of annoying him half to death, was not worth anything at the moment.

"For God's sake, brother, put me down!"

"Only when you stop squirming and acting like I'm going to bloody rape you or something!"

"Incest is illegal!"

The muscle in Madara's right cheek twitched in irritation. Izuna had just shouted that out and now the whole apartment block had probably heard him and was now assuming something hideous was going on between them. Oh, he hated having a brother. At times, he was sure having Hashirama around was more tolerable than Izuna.

Where was Hayashi when she was needed?

Oh no, she had to turn her phone off and become unreachable. That God-damn minx, who seemed so devoted to assisting Izuna in the office to the point where she picks up his phone and does his work, abandons him (well, technically Madara since he was using Izuna's phone) so that Madara has to go picking up the pieces again. How many times had he said it now? He hated having a brother!

He sighed, closing his eyes. Thankfully, Izuna had stopped wriggling on his shoulder when he heard his keys unlock the door. Gruffly jerking Izuna off his aching shoulder, Madara nudged his brother inside his apartment and directed him towards the second bedroom. If Izuna threw up on that carpet, he'd be cleaning it up tomorrow. Madara could do gore, bones sticking out, blood—all of that!—but not vomit. No way – that was a no-go area with him.

For some unthinkable reason, Izuna had just gone to a bar and just drank. The amount, by the mere smell of him, proved that he had made his way through more than two bottles of saké. God only knew why. Madara couldn't think of anything bothering Izuna, but that was only counting what Izuna had let slip to him. The last few weeks, since the fight with Tobirama (again), Izuna had changed – he would work diligently in his office, making sure everything was finished and perfect, even offering to take on extra work so Madara didn't have to do it all. And it worried Madara. Izuna wasn't this kind of person; he was easily bored and needed excitement, but at the same time he was good at socialising. The amount of friends on his Facebook page showed as much.

But Izuna wasn't a drinker.

Madara watched as Izuna stumbled around his bedroom, tripping over his own feet. Twice he grabbed onto the bedcovers so he didn't fall over.

Sighing, running his hand through his unruly hair, Madara started forward and helped Izuna to sit down on the bed while getting his pyjama bottoms for him. It was like they were little all over again. Their mother had died shortly after Izuna's fourth birthday. As Tajima was busy running the company on his own, although he hired 'help', Madara never appreciated the way the nannies cared for Izuna and so took over whenever he could.

"Left leg up," ordered Madara gently. Izuna did as he was told and Madara took his shoe off, placing it down neatly. "Right leg." The same thing happened; the right shoe now sat beside the left shoe, socks dumped unceremoniously near the doorway. "All right, can you take your top off?" Izuna fumbled with the buttons, swaying slightly, so Madara took over because he could do it quicker – and the sooner Izuna got to bed, the quicker he'd sleep the effects of the alcohol off. With Izuna's top now lying on the floor, Madara shoved Izuna to his feet and ordered him to take his trousers off. Clad in only his boxers, Madara then handed Izuna some night-trousers to wear, stopping him from stripping his boxers off.

"Now get into bed."

Unlike every other time Izuna had been drunk, and consequently difficult, he did exactly as he was told without a word of complaint. Madara paused at the doorway, looking back into the darkened room. A thin graceful smile garnished his lips. "Sleep tight, squirt." With that, he shut the door on the peaceful silence.

Morning came round with a hazy effect the next day, as Izuna groaned, rolling over under his covers, feeling a familiar pounding inside his cranium. How much did he drink? He wasn't even sure.

Long, lissom fingers entangled in his dark locks, scratching at his scalp with his blunt nails, a pitiful moan gurgled from his throat. It felt as though his head had been repeatedly hit by a sledgehammer or something equally hard and heavy. Whatever he had his head stuffed into stank as well. Was he lying in a bar? Oh God, he hoped not. Last time he did that, he woke up beside the most gruesome—

"Are you up yet?"

That voice ... that was Madara being grumpy again. If anything, Izuna wanted to wake up to someone who'd smile and greet him politely. Unfortunately, Madara's attitude never stretched that far. He'd made all the nannies scream with malice when they were younger, and only encouraged Izuna to do it too. If only they had a Time-Turner© or something ... that would be brilliant. He could relive his childhood, his greatest years of boyhood, university (God, those years were blissful) – virtually his whole life so far, he could just live again. Shame, Life didn't work like that.

"Izuna, I won't stand for being ignored."

Izuna dug further into his pillow, despite the horrible smell. Anything to annoy Madara, after all. The habit was too pleasurable to break.

"Do I need to fetch some ice and cold water?"

Pausing to think, Izuna debated if annoying Madara was worth that. In the end, he decided not and rolled over to face his brother's smug expression that rejoiced in the doorway. No, it wasn't a sight he enjoyed waking up to in the morning.

"I need a girlfriend ..." Izuna moaned aloud, falling back against the pillows.

"You have enough as it is," commented Madara blandly, "Or do you mean actually venturing into a relationship with someone, with strings attached and all?"

"You know what I mean, Madara, don't come it."

"Don't come it?" repeated Madara, his eyebrow raised derisively. "Where did you learn that, English Literature class?"

"According to you, that's a girly subject so no. I had a friend who came from—"

Madara walked away without waiting to hear Izuna explain. Huffing, Izuna kicked his covers off his legs and swung himself around. Taken by surprise by the sudden and fast movement, his body leaned left and he fell over sitting up. Maybe he drank so much that he was still drunk the morning after. It wouldn't be the first time. Then again, when Kizuka drank, she was worse. He could vividly remember her stripping at one house party at university ... not that he would ever bring it up again. Oh no, he enjoyed using his legs.

"Izuna," she had said in that menacingly tone of hers. "If you ever mention that again—and I mean, ever—I will personally hunt you down and saw both of your legs off. It's embarrassing that our whole class was there last night, but no one else needs to know. Okay?"

He had agreed to keep quiet out of sheer fear that she'd keep to her word: she was the type to do exactly what she said, though he was unsure whether she would keep her word if it meant doing something illegal like sawing a person's legs off. He didn't want to ask, though, just in case.

"Izuna, will you come on? I'm not waiting all day!" shouted Madara, presumably from the kitchen. His shout echoed in Izuna's brain and made it throb worse.

"Ugh. Shut up!" Izuna responded weakly, pulling himself up, one hand clutching his pulsating head, "Shouting hurts, you know."

"Poor Izuna," cooed Madara sarcastically, "Aren't you the delicate flower this morning?"

"Delicate flower my arse," Izuna grumbled under his breath, stalking towards the kitchen. "I'm in pain and you love it. Don't lie. I always knew you were a sadist." He made sure that Madara heard everything by speaking loudly before he even entered the kitchen.

All he was met with, however, was a flick to the forehead ("Ow." Izuna pouted, rubbing the spot Madara had flicked) and, "Be quiet, squirt."

Hey, it's me again. I just wanted to thank XGuiltyXGigglesx03 – so thank you so, so, so much! Your reviews are really making my day – you're such a lovely person! :)

Also, in no way, shape or form do I own the idea of a Time-Turner, that belongs solely to J. K. Rowling of the Harry Potter series.

Cheers for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! ~ SL