Madara
"Madara, do you remember what I said about telling me before you adopted anyone else?" Yamato-sensei asks, looking down at him as they make their way to Konoha's large wooden gates. They're at the very back of the formation while Hashirama and Sai are in the middle, distracting Naruto. Well, Hashirama is stopping him from flying back into Madara to chatter about doing a joint mission and Sai is making incendiary comments about his loud mouth. Kakashi, his two other genin, and the bridge builder are at the front, dutifully ignoring everything happening behind them.
"I didn't adopt him, Yamato-sensei." He would never disobey a direct command from his sensei. Naruto was an Uzumaki, not an Uchiha. Or did Yamato-sensei count taking on a student as a form of adoption? Madara knows some clans blurred that line, the Senju especially, but the Uchiha so rarely have contact with any outsiders that they didn't have any protocols on the matter.
"Really?" Yamato-sensei sounds skeptical.
"Madara-sensei, Madara-sensei! Look at this really cool rock—" ahead of them Hashirama has Naruto tucked under one arm like a tiny dog as the boy waves a stone around in the air.
"Are you a ninja? Or just a loud, squealing pig?" Sai mocks and then darts out of the way as Naruto fumes and throws the rock at him.
"He's my student."
"And you were a teacher in your…time?" Madara has noticed since the other genin joined them Yamato-sensei has avoided directly mentioning the time travel incident. He and Hashirama haven't hidden it per say, but they've never told Naruto point-blank they're from the past.
"The Uchiha have few official sensei," to be a full-time trainer meant you would be taken from the war effort. You had to be so good at teaching that it added more skilled shinobi in battle than was taken from it. It was an honor, but one Madara would never have, "but I like helping the younger kids." Usually it was heart-breaking. Madara knew their skill levels, so far below his own. Depending on the assignment, he'd almost always know whether or not they'd survive it. When the Uchiha scrambled to put bodies on the front lines, it was always the youngest who fell first.
But he was also able to save a few. Madara knew when they'd fail, when they couldn't handle it. He'd know when to watch them, guard them, and put himself between them and danger. He did it for Izuna. He did it for Naori. He did it for Hikaku. He did it for countless younger cousins.
"I know I'm not really his sensei," he won't call himself that, won't give himself that kind of title, "but Naruto is…young. By Uchiha standards." Madara can't recall ever having to learn the most basic things he taught him. You knew them or you died. Sometimes, when Father felt particularly morose, he'd say the Uchiha had to be born with battle in their blood, if they wanted to take their first breath. Madara wasn't born with just battle, he had the entire war and all its death caged inside him, a true sun-blessed prodigy. It was…usually a compliment. "I'm just showing him the basics so he doesn't get killed."
Yamato-sensei blinks, then smiles. "You're worried about him."
"He's a child." Madara stares at the dusty ground and jolts slightly when Yamato-sensei ruffles his hair.
"I bet you're a good sensei, Madara. Would you mind if I watched once in a while? You can probably give me a few good tips." Yamato-sensei winks.
Madara splutters, cheeks bright red as he insists Yamato-sensei is a great teacher and there's nothing Madara could possibly add that he doesn't already know.
He's still rambling when they pass through the soaring gates and Naruto wriggles free from Hashirama's hold. Hashirama catches his collar and hauls him back before he can tackle Sai to the ground.
"That brat's really a ninja?" Tazuna asks, pointing at Naruto. "Can he actually do this?"
"Ma, ma. Don't worry, Yamato and I are both jonin. We'll watch over him," Kakashi says with a wave of his hand. Naruto pouts and spins around to yell at Tazuna, declaring himself an awesome ninja who'll become hokage one day and he then everyone will acknowledge him and—
Madara stops paying attention when Yamato-sensei gives a low whistle. Gather. Sai and Hashirama turn away from the spectacle and walk over to them.
"We'll be in modified A formation for the five-day journey. Madara and Hashirama, you're the rear. Sai and I will take mid-position next to Tazuna and Kakashi will take point."
"What about the Hatake's genin?" Hashirama asks as he reaches out to grab Madara's hand.
"Mid, this is their mission but," Yamato-sensei looks over where Kakashi is holding Naruto back from pouncing on Tazuna while Sasuke and Sakura stand idly by, "for all intents and purposes…we're guarding four people."
They nod and scatter.
This mission is…annoying. Madara would prefer a clean-cut assassination. They've had to do undercover missions before, just…not with another team. Especially not one so inexperienced. But it was necessary. They had been working the bingo book for months. Patterns in the killings were bound to emerge, but they had to take every opportunity to obfuscate any connection to Konoha and Team 13. If someone was looking for patterns, they'd be searching for four black-masked nin in violet cloaks, not two genin teams escorting a bridge builder on a simple C-ranked mission.
At least that was the plan.
The plan that completely falls apart half-way through the first day.
The first issue: Kakashi's genin are terrible with instructions.
Their formation is a joke and they don't keep it for longer than ten minutes. Madara shoos Naruto away from him and Hashirama at least three times in the first hour because he is not part of the rear guard. It might be a C-rank but if they were ambushed Naruto would be in the way, he'd limit how well he and Hashirama could maneuver. The dirt road isn't wide and the trees on either side of the path grow close together, this environment is best suited for his speed and Hashirama's mokuton, not an abundance of shadow clones that they'd trip over. At the very least Sasuke and Sakura stay by Tazuna but their focus is shit. Sakura is trying to draw Sasuke into idle conversation and he's ignoring her and Tazuna both. And Kakashi…
Kakashi's not at the point position. He's walking next to Sasuke, hands in his pockets, slouched over. One of Tazuna's sides is completely exposed to the forest. Madara can think of a hundred ways to dart in and kill him before Team 7 could properly react.
Hashirama squeezes his hand, thumb rubbing slow circles over his first knuckle in an effort to soothe him as Madara steams.
Maybe it's unfair of him. They were pretty relaxed on their first C-ranked mission too and as far as Team 7 knows this is only a C-rank mission, not pretense for anything else. Only an escort, no different from Team 13's tea mission.
Kakashi should know better, at the very least. Yamato-sensei would have told him we're doing an A-rank. He should be focused.
And then there's the second issue: the puddle.
The one with two enemy chakra signatures hidden inside.
Transformation jutsu.
Madara doesn't react except to nudge Hashirama's thumb away and draw the simple character for enemy on his palm. Hashirama's brown eyes flick to his and Madara tilts his head back.
Hashirama lets go of his hand.
They take ten steps beyond it and then turn in unison just as the figures burst out.
"If you'd like to surrender, do it now," Hashirama says as one flies ahead, metal claw and chain swinging. They don't.
These aren't jonin. Madara lets two kunai loose as he draws his tanto. This is hardly a dance; he would barely qualify it as a warmup. Their steps are stumbling and weak. Beside him, Hashirama clasps his hands together. The kunai sink into the chain links and thud against a newly raised piece of mokuton wood, yanking the first enemy back and pinning him.
Madara jumps towards the caught enemy and catches sight of his partner further back, just as a spike of wood pierces through his gut like a blade and he collapses with a wet, sickly gasp.
"Wait! Take one—" Madara's blade meets flesh and bone, the tip piercing through armor and ribs to sink into the heart, "—alive." He turns from the two dead shinobi to see Kakashi's pinched expression. "Terrors…" The genin are frozen in shock, wide-eyed and pale behind him. Only Sai leans casually back, unconcerned.
"If you wanted them alive you should have said that before," Hashirama says as the wood sinks back into the ground and Madara wipes the blood from his blade. He kneels next to the first body and starts searching it, nose wrinkling at the smell.
"Information gathering is standard practice. Now we don't know why two rogue chunin attacked us." Unfortunately, he's right. Madara searches both bodies but besides the slashed Kiri headbands finds nothing identifying them or their mission. He pockets anything useful, they don't have many kunai or explosion tags, and stands. With the war and all their assassination contracts, it's just second nature to go for the killing blow after they disregard Hashirama's offer to surrender.
This is why simple assassinations are better.
"This is my fault for not clarifying," Yamato-sensei interrupts before Hashirama could start arguing. "From now on if we do run into any other enemies, non-lethal attacks."
"Yes, Yamato-sensei," Madara and Hashirama bow but Hashirama still glares at Kakashi as they start to clean up.
"Now Tazuna, do you know why two enemy ninja attacked us? Because it's rather odd that they'd choose to attack genin teams with their jonin present. But a contract for a bridge builder…" Kakashi says cheerily even as his one visible eye narrows.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I hired you for protection, but I had no idea about any chunin."
"Liar," Hashirama mutters as they drag the chunin Madara killed over to his ally. "He knows something."
"Not related to ours?" Madara whispers as they drop the chunin and step back.
"Unlikely," that's true, they had never been unmasked on one of their assassinations, "plus with how sketchy the bridge guy is acting…" Hashirama rolls his shoulders, glancing over at the adults who are still arguing. Tazuna keeps insisting he doesn't know anything. "Think we'll separate after this?"
No matter how unlikely, there still was a chance that the chunin came after them, not Tazuna or Kakashi and his team. And if that was the case and their identities had been compromised this would be bumped from an A-rank to S. From Madara's understanding the bingo book was a supposed to be a source of information first and foremost. If recorded nin were spotted in Fire Country without proper registration, they could be killed without too much hassle. The way Konoha used them, entering other countries to assassinate enemy nin on foreign soil…wouldn't go over well with other countries he'd been told. Especially with the other great nations, they were already so paranoid and obsessive about letting any foreign nin enter their lands.
All the fucking paperwork they had to do just to enter Suna…
That mission was under the pretense of delivering the chunin exam summons, a simple C-rank, while they tracked down and killed one of Sasori of the Red Sand's last known associates in the desert.
Madara shakes his head and pushes the thoughts from his mind. Now, he focuses on the bodies and runs through the hand signs for Final Pyre. It's not quite the same jutsu he'd use for Uchiha funerals, the final triad of horse-dragon-tiger isn't added, but it's enough.
Madara breathes out and a thin stream of fire washes over the bodies and catches. It wavers, no stronger than a candle flame, flickering delicately. Then, in an instant, the fire deepens and screams, a scorching inferno kept caged by his will alone. The flames aren't colorful, they don't dance and sing as the soul departs to Amaterasu's Embrace. Instead they remain steady red, only blinking to white at the fire's height before snuffing out completely.
In less than a minute the bodies and their metal armor are gone, reduced to ash that's pulled along by the wind.
"Thanks for all your help, otouto," Madara cuffs the back of Sai's head when he and Hashirama make their way back to Yamato-sensei.
"It was your mess, why should I help you clean it up?" He huffs. Madara catches him in a headlock and draws him close enough to pinch his cheek. Sai grumbles and tries to break free but he has no leverage and Madara has held a squirming Izuna in the exact position for hours before. "I'm disowning you." Sai hisses and sinks his blunt nails into Madara's arm.
"Can't. Need the clan head's permission for that." Madara grins and then braces himself as Hashirama leans against his shoulder, laughing at Sai.
"Boys," Yamato-sensei sighs but he doesn't tell Madara to let Sai go, so he doesn't.
"Are we continuing with the Hatake and his genin?" Hashirama asks, shifting even more of his weight onto Madara.
"Yes. But because we can't confirm who the two chunin were after," Madara bites back the apology on the tip of his tongue for inconveniencing their sensei, "we're delaying before sailing out to the Land of Waves. Team 7 should be safe on the water and if we are the targets that'll hopefully draw them out. Understood?"
"Yes, sensei!"
Kakashi
On the other side of the road, Team 7 was having a very different kind of briefing.
The problem, primarily, was that his cute little genin weren't paying attention. Not that Kakashi could blame them. This was supposed to be a simple C-rank mission. Clean cut, easy, nothing exciting about escorting a bridge builder. Yet not even a day in and it's all gone to hell.
Death is a shinobi's constant companion.
Delivering it or succumbing to it, death is a lurking shadow in their profession, never far from sight. All of his genin know this but up until this point, for Sakura and Naruto, it's only been theoretical.
There's a profound difference between theory and practice.
And seeing the terrors' brutally efficient methods and overall nonchalance at killing is not the way Kakashi would have chosen to expose them to this bleak reality.
Naruto and Sakura are shaken.
Naruto is recovering the fastest, his eyes are bit clearer, he reacts more to Kakashi's voice. He's in shock, a shock that will quickly fade away. Sakura is not. Sakura's wide, panicked eyes stay pinned on the terrors, god all three of them now, or firmly on the ground. Kakashi knows Sakura is the smartest on their team. Her memory and text-book knowledge are unrivaled but he worries for her the in the more violent aspects of their profession. She's from a civilian background. That has never been clearer to him.
And then there's Sasuke.
Sasuke who's seen death before. Sasuke who, out of all of them, is the most prepared for the reality of this life. Sasuke who's now staring at Madara in abject horror and fear, pupils shrunken to needle pinpricks. He has a feeling he knows what Sasuke sees, who Sasuke sees when he looks at Madara. Kakashi spares a quick moment to be grateful that Madara's hair is a spiky mess and not drawn back in a smooth, low ponytail.
His genin are reeling, horribly unfocused, and they still don't know why they were attacked in the first place.
Oh, Kakashi has ideas.
Ideas that involve a poor bridge-builder from a poor country being desperate enough to smudge the details of his request, but those are unsubstantiated. And if Tazuna was willing to twist enough details to fit a C-ranked mission instead of a B or A-ranked, he's not giving up the goose now. Especially not with the current situation working out for him and he suddenly gets Team Murder Happy for free. Four jonin or equivalents. Kakashi has no idea about the apparent other Uchiha wearing a crop-top but he wouldn't have been placed with Tenzo if he wasn't at a similar level. And while he could technically call off the mission and return Team 7 to Konoha he knows he'd get dogpiled from his cute little genin and get a lecture from the Sandaime for, technically, interfering with Team 13's mission to wipe the bingo book clean.
He knew Danzou would get over his disgust if it meant harnessing even a fraction of Madara and Hashirama's power for himself. This entire thing reeks of the ROOT specific kind of rot.
Tenzo named Momochi Zabuza as their target.
What were the chances that Zabuza was the one targeting Tazuna?
Kakashi swears he can hear the universe laughing at him.
Hashirama
It would be an understatement to say things after the whole chunin ambush are tense.
Well…things with the Hatake and his genin are. Everything is pretty standard for Team Yamato's missions, but the others are definitely dragging things down. Hashirama's glad to be in the rear formation with Madara, swinging their linked hands, as everyone stews ahead of them.
Madara berates him, tells him to pay attention and take things seriously but he's not as uptight as he was when they first set out. They already dealt with the enemies. And enemies that weak weren't the kind to do anything smart with a second assassination attempt. If they were, they would have sent actual competent people in the first place.
It's why Hashirama doesn't think they were the intended targets.
Still, he remembers only after they start walking again and the mood turns gloomy that this wasn't standard for Team 7. It occurs to Hashirama, like a lightning strike from the sky, that this might be the first time any of the other genin had seen someone die.
They were twelve and they'd never seen a dead body…
Tears prick at his eyes. The thought is so warm and heady. He feels a bit bad to have killed someone in front of them, but…but the thought of making it to twelve and not seeing death it's just…Hashirama can't even imagine.
They probably haven't killed anyone either. And that's the full realization that has happy tears streaming down his cheeks. If the children remained genin and genin were only supposed to be assigned relatively safe D-rank and C-rank missions…
There are no kids killing kids.
Most kids don't even kill adults!
Hashirama turns and crashes into Madara, pulling him into a hug.
He grumbles but drags Hashirama along instead of pushing him away. By the bittersweet curl of Madara's mouth, he's thinking the same thing.
The rest of the day passes peacefully and they settle down for the night with two completely different team dynamics. The Hatake and his genin are still quiet and morose, the bridge builder has hardly said anything since the confrontation. Hashirama still thinks he was the target. Or, at the very least, that he knows something and isn't telling them.
Team 13 on the other hand…
Madara lights the campfire and then plops down at Yamato's side, watching as he cooks. Yamato or Sai were always the designated cooks on missions. Hashirama had the unfortunate ability to burn water and Madara was too impatient and fire-happy to make anything edible. With their cooking supplies, some mushrooms Hashirama found, and two rabbits that Sai's ink birds caught, they have the makings of a good curry.
"Yamato-sensei, if you need someone to do a taste-test…" Madara's black eyes are locked onto the simmering pot, flames dancing in their depths.
"You'll be the first person I ask, Madara." Yamato stirs the pot and adds in the seared rabbit strips. Madara leans forward but Hashirama tightens his arms around Madara's stomach and leans them both back, away from the fire. Madara grumbles but Hashirama isn't technically behind him, he's sitting at an angle, with his chin in the crook of Madara's neck and shoulder, his legs stretched out to the side.
"If you want I could make the fire hotter, maybe cook it a little faster—"
"And char it until it's practically coal that no one but you will eat, just like last time?" Sai interrupts, leaning around Yamato's other side.
"Shut up, it wasn't that bad."
"Yes, it was." Sai grins maliciously.
"It was a…bit singed," Yamato says carefully, eyes on the fire.
"I nearly chipped a tooth." Hashirama laughs and plants a kiss on his cheek. Madara slumps back against him, crossing his arms with a huff. He stays there until Yamato decides the curry and rice are done and ladles out their bowls. Madara pushes away to get his first and is already almost finished with it as Team 7 and Tazuna make their way to the fire.
"Are you planning to feed an entire village with that thing?" Tazuna grumbles as he takes a bowl and stares at the cooking pot. It is pretty big. If they tried really hard, both he and Madara could fit inside. Hashirama knows, they tried. It was one of many cooking supplies that Yamato kept in a very expensive storage scroll, one that was big enough to fit everything and store food without it getting…weird from being sealed.
"It's necessary," Yamato laughs as he ladles Madara a second bowl. Hashirama raises a bite to his mouth, but his eyes are still on Madara.
One of the best things about the future is the abundance of food. Madara's cheeks almost look round and now whenever Hashirama hugs him he can feel a layer of muscle and fat first instead of paper-thin skin stretched over sharp bones.
Hashirama smiles, forces down the happy tears that well in his eyes, and leans against Madara's shoulder.
He doesn't get stabbed for it, doesn't even get a blustering threat.
After dinner, Yamato assigns them tasks. Since he seems hesitant to leave the still shell-shocked genin behind, they stay in the camp. Hashirama is assigned more carving practice. Sai's supposed to continue working on some new ink creature he's been designing. He always shoves Hashirama and Madara away whenever they ask what it is, hovering protectively over the scroll. Madara is on weapon-cleaning duty and immediately demands to see Hashirama and Sai's blades. Of course, he asks Yamato for his.
"Why're you nice to Yamato-sensei but so mean to me?" Hashirama complains, using one of Madara's crossed thighs as a pillow while he messes around with wooden branch. He knows old him said this was the only way but it was so boring to try and replicate the same thing, day after day.
"Yamato-sensei is our sensei and elder, he is to be respected," Madara growls staring down at one of Hashirama's kunai. He…may have forgotten to clean that one after burying it in a sap tree last week. Oops.
"Technically we're older than him," Hashirama mutters at the same time Sai coughs, "teacher's pet."
Madara snatches the not-carving from Hashirama's hands and hurls it at Sai. He ducks and the branch splinters as it hits the tree Sai's leaning against. He's gotten really good at dodging lately.
"Hey! I was practicing," Hashirama pouts and grabs a spare branch he gathered for this exact reason.
"No you weren't, you were carving smiley faces."
That...could count as practice. Maybe. But Hashirama doesn't defend his notable artistry because Naruto stands and slips across the invisible camp boundary to 'their' side. The boundary doesn't exist for the adults, Yamato and the Hatake have been speaking in low tones since dinner ended and Tazuna wanders around in an effort to 'stretch his old bones so they don't go stiff' but the Hatake's genin have remained firmly in their spot under a large oak tree and not moved since. Until now.
"You know how to maintain weapons?" Madara asks before Naruto can speak. He's still subdued, disturbingly quiet compared to his normal self. Hashirama doesn't understand, but he's trying to. He doesn't remember how he reacted when he saw a dead body for the first time or when he first killed someone. There was the teenager, but the only memory he has after was one of confusion because there was a gaping bloody hole in his mouth and he didn't know losing a milk tooth was normal, that another would grow in. He had no real feelings at all about his first kill. He couldn't even say he felt anything particularly strong about the adults after, except a lingering grief that he couldn't afford to focus on. He had to protect Tobirama, mourning strange enemy adults until he was sick with heartache wasn't going to do anything useful. It was only when he had to raise his sword against another child, someone weaker and younger than him, that the anguish rose and he…he…
Hashirama lets out an unsteady breath just as Naruto stutters out a 'no' and Madara pats the ground next to him.
"You should show him how to use the new kit," Hashirama says before Madara can start on his training spiel. He's using the old maintenance kit that they had to go to some weird antique store to find because Madara didn't like the new ones sold at the ninja supply store.
"This one is better."
"It's also like a hundred years old now—"
"Aren't you supposed to be practicing?" Madara flicks him between the eyes. Hashirama pouts and turns on his side, towards the fire. "Now, Naruto…"
Hashirama deserves some credit, he does try to concentrate on his carving. He gets the basic frog-fox whittled down in the dim firelight, and then does his best to grow an exact replica with mokuton.
He's got five barely round blobs and beads of sweat rolling down the side of his face that's not pressed into Madara's leg before he loses focus half-way though the sixth. There's a pair of eyes on them. Or, to be precise, one eye on Madara.
Hashirama looks up and stares until the Hatake's eye darts down to him. He smiles, slow and wide, and watches as the man shudders.
He still hasn't apologized for what his dog did.
Never let it be said that the Senju didn't know how to hold a grudge as well as any Uchiha. Madara wouldn't like it if he did something now, not while they were on a mission but…if he was sneaky…
Hashirama starts to snicker and Madara flicks his ear. The cartilage throbs with a sharp pain.
"I don't know what you're thinking but stop it."
"And what if I was thinking about you?" Hashirama flips towards him, mokuton practice forgotten. He reaches up to poke Madara's cheek. It's comical paired with Madara's flat, narrowed-eyed gaze.
"Did I stutter?"
Somebody's still pissed about the dirty kunai.
"How…how did you guys do it? How are you the same?" Naruto blurts out. He looks away, nervously twisting his kunai in his hands, whetstone and polish abandoned by his side.
"What are you talking about?" Madara asks as Hashirama lets his hand fall, craning his head back to look at Naruto.
"Those two…those other guys came out of nowhere. But you just…reacted, while we just stood there, useless. You knew what to do and you didn't hesitate to…to…" He trails off, biting his lip.
"To kill them?" Madara prompts and Naruto flinches before nodding. "Naruto…Hashirama and I…we didn't grow up in the village. We lived in a place so different, so far away it was like…like a different world." Madara is struggling with his words. He's not the best at being comforting and Hashirama hopes this doesn't blow up in his face like it has before. There's been more than one incident of a child tripping or getting lost in the markets only for Madara to try and help only to make it worse. Hashirama reaches up and squeezes his calf. "We reacted like we did because it wasn't the first time we've been ambushed. Those weren't our first kills."
"You grew up somewhere…rough." It's a question, but not.
"Yes." Madara shuffles and wets his lips. "We grew up in a war. There are no children in war, only shinobi. You kill or you are killed."
I won't let Kawarama be disrespected! He was a shinobi, not a child! Butsuma's voice echoes in his head. Funny, how so many lessons between the Uchiha and Senju were the same. A breeze rustles through the clearing and Hashirama feels cold.
"That's not fair."
"No," Madara hesitates but reaches out to pat his head, "but the village is here now. It makes things better." There's an end to the war, a light at the end of the tunnel. What he doesn't say, but what Hashirama hears. But they have to end it. They have to go back to the war to do it. He pushes back against the rising wave of anguish.
It's like Naruto said. It's not fair.
Everything around them is a reprieve. This future that isn't quite as bright as they first thought, but still blinding compared to the past. But, Hashirama thinks morosely, sometimes the bright light makes it even more unbearable to return to the darkness. Your vision isn't the same. You can't see in the dark anymore and only long for the light.
"It's alright that you didn't react as fast. You're still a little kid, still learning, still growing. There's no war now, you have time. This…this is your time," Madara's voice grows tight and Hashirama gives his calf another squeeze, letting his hand trail over the bandage wrapped limb.
"Yeah, well…well I'm gonna get so strong and powerful I'll be able to put an end to any war and protect all my precious people! You two and Iruka-sensei and…and Sakura-chan, Kakashi-sensei, and even that Sasuke-bastard!"
Hashirama worries for half a second that Madara's going to take it the wrong way, as a challenge or subtle dig against him. But his split-second worry is for nothing. Madara's expression softens and it really is like that little girl all over again.
"And become the hokage, too?" He ruffles Naruto's hair.
"Exactly!" Naruto shoots to his feet and marches back towards Sakura and Sasuke, yelling that he wants to spar right here and now.
"Naruto it's time for bed! Not for training!" Sakura yells, the most emotion she's had since the chunin ambush.
"Aww, you're so sweet to kids," Hashirama grins and pokes Madara's cheek again. This time he gets a better reaction, Madara blushes and crosses his arms defensively over his chest.
"Remember what I said about cutting out your tongue?"
"So cute." Hashirama lifts his other hand and squishes Madara's cherry-red cheeks together.
"Gay," Sai coughs and then ducks when Madara throws Hashirama's whittled frog-fox at him.
Soon, they settle down for the night.
It was Team 13's unspoken agreement that they'd be doing their regular nightshift schedule, regardless of Team 7. It's not that Hashirama doesn't trust the other genin but…how were they going to detect potential enemies? None of them had any sensory abilities, as far as he knew, and Naruto definitely didn't have any suitable jutsu. Sakura and Sasuke were wild cards but the same paranoia that kept him alive also refused to let three newbies be responsible for keeping watch while he slept.
They shuffle around, preparing for bed and laying out the sleeping bags. Sai raises one finger and taps it against his chest. Yamato raises four. Hashirama two and Madara three. Team 7 is still squabbling, something about beauty sleep, Naruto snoring, and Sasuke-bastard having an irritating face. The Hatake is staring at the starry night sky, defeat drawn tight around his shoulders. Tazuna is already on his side, asleep.
Hashirama tunes them all out as he slips into their sleeping bag and pulls Madara close, until they fit together like two interlocked puzzle pieces. They're the furthest away from the banked fire, near the forest's edge. It's summer, there's two of them in one bag, and Madara produces enough heat that even during their early spring missions Hashirama often woke up sweating. Fire affinities. But that heat was definitely welcome in Suna when the temperature plummeted below freezing in the desert. Hashirama liked cuddling, but he didn't like it when he got elbowed out of the way from a shivering Sai and Yamato.
"Stop thinking about Suna," Madara grumbles and Hashirama realizes he's been squeezing him too tight.
"I had to cuddle your leg," Hashirama mutters into the skin of his neck. And even then, he had to sleep with Sai kicking his head and putting cold toes on his neck.
"It was your idea to stay an extra week." That was…unfortunately true. Hashirama begged Yamato, pulled out every stop and cried real desperate tears to find any reason they could stay longer once their cover mission and actual mission were done. That was in part because Hashirama was the one to push for a mission in Suna to begin with.
The reason was quite simple.
Since their time travel issue hadn't been fixed yet and the old Sarutobi geezer couldn't delay the chunin exams any further than he already had, an extra month or two was added to the lengthened timeline of their return. They arrived here in mid-March but it was already August. There was a very real possibility of not having any results before winter.
Madara had a winter birthday.
December 24th, a date he off-handedly mentioned in a long spiel about Uchiha traditions that had something to do with their sun goddess. Hashirama didn't remember the specifics, he had been more focused on repeating the date over and over to himself until he knew he wouldn't forget it.
If there was even a chance they'd be here, be together…
And Hashirama knew exactly what to get him. But for some reason he could only find it in Suna. It was a bitter discovery after he spent days prowling through every relevant shop in Konoha and just happened to see a visiting Suna nin with one. Hashirama could make the raw components, but he needed a master to assemble it and he just knew it was going to be expensive.
But he wasn't giving up!
Certainly not when he tracked down one of the best craftsmen in Suna, paid absolutely every single ryo he had saved and won gambling for the rush order and then waited. His hard work wasn't going to waste just because they had to leave early!
In the end it was worth it and Madara's present was stored safely in Hashirama's battle scroll because he didn't know where else to put it where Madara wouldn't immediately find it. Their tiny house was just that tiny, there was no place to hide it. And if he told Madara not to look at something, of course he was going to shove past Hashirama at the first opportunity and tear into it. It's what he'd do, after all!
But that didn't matter because the present was perfect…he hoped. Madara, like usual, is either going to love it or hate it, no in-betweens.
"I had my reasons for staying," Hashirama sniffs and winces when Madara's palm digs into his gut, pushing him back. Reasons Madara didn't like because Hashirama refused to tell him. "Come on, don't be like that," Hashirama says as he peeks over the top of the sleeping bag. In the moonlight he sees Sai still drawing under his tree and Yamato's back towards them in his own bag.
"Then tell me why you wanted to go to Suna so badly. It was nothing but sand, Hashirama. You were miserable without the trees." Also true, unfortunately. Hashirama had never been out of the Land of Fire before. He knew the Land of Wind wasn't going to be the same but still… There were hardly any plants. There were no forests. Plenty of sun but after less than a day in the desert he felt like he was about to lose his mind and claw his skin off.
"It's a surprise. I'll tell you, I promise, but trust me for now?" Hashirama bats his eyelashes and Madara gives in with a sigh and roll of his eyes.
"Fine."
Hashirama grins and leans forward to kiss him, a quick brush against his lips. Madara grumbles but he's not really upset because when Hashirama pulls away, he leans forward to kiss him back. Hashirama feels like he's floating, he's never going to get tired of kissing Madara. It's warm. It's comforting. It's relaxing.
It sucks that they can only kiss in their sleeping bag on missions. Oh sure, Hashirama will occasionally kiss Madara's cheek and vice versa, but a peck on the mouth? No.
It's one of those things that Hashirama gets irritated at Yamato for but it's probably a better reaction than he'd get from other adults. Whenever Hashirama kisses Madara, or the one time Madara kissed him in front of Yamato, it always led to a very weird and confusing conversation, every single time.
Something with birds and…bees?
Yamato will clear his throat, eyes darting back and forth, as he starts an incredibly strange ramble. Hashirama's heard it four separate times now and he still doesn't know what Yamato's talking about. Just that they always have to have the conversation and it always leads nowhere. Madara didn't get it either and the last time it happened, he asked Yamato if he was talking about some Aburame jutsu.
Hashirama…he doesn't have words to describe the expression Yamato made. The shapes his mouth twisted into. The noise that crawled out of his throat. The complicated up and downs of his eyebrows. What Hashirama does know is Sai actually collapsed from laughing so hard he started to wheeze and cry. They had to stop for nearly half an hour for him to get his bearings. Madara, embarrassed, had promptly declared that he wasn't kissing Hashirama on the mouth in front of either of them anymore.
And it wasn't any fun to kiss him if he didn't kiss back, so waiting until night it was.
It's worth it though, he thinks as Madara runs his hands through Hashirama's hair, their faces bent close together, legs tangled in the bag. Madara's staring at him, eyes warm and red even in the gloom. He hardly blinks, he hardly ever blinks really, and Hashirama might like being the focus of that searing gaze a bit too much if he's honest. It used to unsettle him, even before he awakened the sharingan, how quickly Madara could cut him to the bone with a look. Every mask, serious or playful, stripped away and Hashirama felt exposed and seen in a way he rarely was.
He should hate it, but he doesn't.
Hashirama wants that intense gaze, wants Madara's attention, wants to revel in being seen and having every secret buried deep inside exposed. Because Madara is still looking, still watching with warm eyes.
He is known and understood and Hashirama, even in his short painful life, can feel the solid weight of that miracle, how rare and precious it is. His gift from the divine. Happy tears well up in his eyes and Madara's hands drift down, brushing them away. They share the same callouses but Madara's hands are more scarred. He doesn't have a sharingan, but Hashirama could draw them from memory. Not imperfections, but grounding proof that Madara is flesh and bone, real and mortal. Hashirama can still hardly believe it. He used to wake up in the Senju compound wondering if it all was a dream, too good to be true, too sweet to be real.
It's better now.
When Hashirama wakes up with Madara's head on his chest and half-dried drool on his skin, it's easier to believe that somehow, by some miracle, this is his reality.
"Stop crying, you're going to get dehydrated," Madara scolds, but his tone is gentle as he tilts his head forward, pressing their lips softly together. His are chapped, Hashirama knows he bites them when he's bored or anxious, but they're warm.
So warm.
He falls asleep like that, so relaxed and content, Madara's lips against his own.
"Stupid Senju," is the last thing he hears before his eyes slip shut and Madara tugs him down and closer, resting his chin on the top of Hashirama's head.
AN: I always loved that Hashirama was a bit of a romantic. "Gift from the divine" still kills me in how sweet and loving it sounds. He has a silver tongue in comparison to Madara's lead one, I'm p sure "show each other our guts" has a different connotation in Japanese but god if it's doesn't sound slightly off and awkward to the English ear. But he's trying!
Given the state of Konoha's uh, absolute lack of mandated therapy I feel p comfortable saying sex-ed probably ain't top the list either. Yamato is doing his best with few resources, trying to be helpful without being judgmental, yet still impress the importance of waiting and not rushing into things...it'd really help if he just said "sex" though. The metaphors...they're not clicking chief.
Final thing, my biggest canon divergence is, and always will be, making fire a credible threat once again in the magic ninja world. To this day, one of my saltiest moments in all of Naruto is watching Madara get hit with Sasuke's Amaterasu and just casually take his clothes off, no harm, no foul. Human beings are FLAMMABLE and the pinnacle of the fire clan's fire techniques should have, at the very least, been a passing CONCERN. I'm still salty so now there are reasons behind the apparent fire immunity and it does tie into some new worldbuilding. The Uchiha are a sun-cult, which since their dojutsu are canonically based on Shinto gods, and Amaterasu the sun goddess is associated with fire and justice and one of her main creation legends was that she was born from Izanagi's left eye. Fire, justice, and eyes, what more do you need?