CN Mention of deceased family members, mourning

You are my friend

Hashirama knelt in the shade of a red maple and watched the koi in his garden pond. A single leaf was floated down by a gentle breeze and landed light as a feather on the surface of the water. Concentric rings spread out around it. A small bird perched on the branch whose foliage gave Hashirama shade in the early morning hours. The light of the first rays of the sun danced like diamonds on the water.

Of course, he had created the garden himself, his very own place of tranquillity. Well, and his brother's, even if the latter was rarely to be found here and preferred to devote his free time to his experiments. Just sitting quietly, enjoying a bowl of tea and contemplating nature was simply not Tobirama's thing. He always had to have something to do.

The leaves of the maple rustled in greeting as Tobirama approached. "Good morning, anija."

Hashirama rose and came to meet him. "Unusually early for you. What scared you out of bed?"

"The work you leave because you prefer to talk to your bonsai. I was going to start setting up our house today, and as I was going through the sealing scrolls of our stuff, I noticed my kunai weren't there. You know, the ones for my hiraishin, not the regular ones. Do you know where they might be?"

Hashirama thought for a moment. "Hm, you had sealed most of our things when we moved here. But maybe they did end up in one of my rolls. Let's check."

There was a reason Tobirama had taken care of sealing her things for the move. He was far more organised than Hashirama, who preferred to just throw everything into one big pile and close the matter for himself. This was probably why Tobirama was so much better at coming up with new jutsus than his older brother. Hashirama simply did what felt right and natural, and may well have accidentally created a jungle without intending to. Tobirama had tried to explain his brother's powers scientifically, but they hadn't really got very far. Hashirama was the only one who had mastered the Mokuton, at least as far as they knew, and could not pass on the technique. Tobirama had therefore classified his mokuton as an absolutely unique kekkei genkai.

Once inside, Hashirama took out his large sealing scroll. He opened it and unrolled a few metres until he found something that could be Tobirama's kunai and released the seal.

"What the ...?" began Tobirama, irritated. "Is that Madara's gunbai? What is this doing here!"

"Oh my goodness!" exclaimed Hashirama, throwing his hands up in horror. "Madara is going to behead me! Better take it back to him quickly."

Tobirama rolled his eyes with a sigh. "Not until you dig out my kunai. That you can do anything at all with that messy thing of a scroll borders on miraculous."

"I can manage it." However, before Tobirama could beat Madara to chopping off Hashirama's head, he quickly kept searching. On the next try, he found what they were looking for, and a considerable pile of kunai appeared. "See."

Tobirama took one of his much smaller scrolls and sealed his weapons inside. "I'll never let you touch my things again. Who knows if I'll find them next time."

Hashirama reached for the gunbai. "I'll be on my way then. I suppose you don't want me in the way when you unseal our things anyway."

Tobirama grabbed him by the arm before he could leave and looked at him with that look he always put on when he had things of great importance to discuss. "Anija, be on your guard with Madara."

Hashirama looked at him questioningly, all brotherly levity between them forgotten. "What do you mean?"

"He is not the same man you once thought you knew. I know you think he is your friend, notwithstanding all the years you have fought each other to the death. But there is a bottomless darkness in him that shines through his eyes, and that makes him dangerous. He's an Uchiha, remember, this clan has always been prone to darkness. And besides, I see the way you stare after him. Put that out of your mind as soon as possible."

That left Hashirama speechless for a moment. But then he smiled. "You worry too much, otōto. There is no need for that, believe me."

Tobirama, of course, was not convinced. "At least try not to be too naïve. Please."

"I'm an adult, remember?"

Tobirama mumbled something unintelligible, but then let his brother go. As he stepped outside the front door, Hashirama was once again pleased to notice that something like a neighbourhood was gradually forming and that their house was no longer the only one that was already finished. The streets of the village were becoming clearer and clearer, revealing more and more what the place would soon look like.

On his way to the place that would soon be Madara's home, he passed a small house that was being worked on diligently. Regardless of the people going in and out of the house, an old woman stood in front of it. Hashirama recognised her as one of the Yamanaka clan who had recently joined them. They had blended in surprisingly quickly. The woman had several baskets of flowers with her, which she was spreading out on a bench in front of the house. Interested, Hashirama stepped closer.

The old woman bowed to him when she noticed him. " Esteemed Senju-sama."

"These are pretty flowers you have here, Yamanaka-san," he said appreciatively, bending down to examine one of the flowers more closely.

"Thank you, Senju-sama," the woman said with another bow. "I always pick them at dusk, then they shine especially beautifully. That's the kind of flower people like to buy, it brings the morning hours into their homes. Shinobi are always so busy proving their skills to everyone that they often forget the simple pleasures of life. That's why I sell flowers: to remind them of that. My name is Yamanaka Ino, by the way."

Now it was Hashirama's turn to bow. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Ino-san. What would you say if I gave you a nicer stand than a simple bench? Then you can display your beautiful flowers even better for all to enjoy."

"Oh no. Surely you have more important things to do than help an old woman like me, Senju-sama."

"But no! Helping the people of our village is my job after all. Just give me a moment." Hashirama clasped his hands and formed his chakra. In an instant, a porch sprouted from the ground in front of the house, making a much better stall than the bench.

Ino rubbed her age-stained eyes. "My goodness," she said appreciatively. "People whisper about you behind closed doors as the demon from the woods who can bring nature itself to life to throttle his enemies in droves. Didn't think there was really that much to it."

Hashirama laughed sheepishly. "People tell a lot of stories. I'm sure more than half of it is exaggerated beyond measure."

Ino plucked a flower from one of the baskets and handed it to Hashirama. "This is for you, Senju-sama. As a small thank you for your help and for lending an old woman an ear. Do you know what kind of flower this is?"

Hashirama took it gratefully, admiring the bright red that stood out against the white. "Of course. A suisen."

"Such a handsome young man as you must have many suitors. That's a nice gift, isn't it? Hanakotoba says that the daffodil represents friendship and affection. When you give it to a good friend, you are telling him that you are proud to be friends with him."

Of course, Hashirama immediately had to think of Madara. "I thank you for this kind gesture, Ino-san."

He said goodbye to Ino and made his way to Madara. Perhaps if he gave him his gunbai along with the flower, he would just give him a head butt and not rip his head off right away.

Arriving at the construction site, however, he found that Madara was not there. The Uchiha who were working on the house told him Madara had gone into the surrounding forests to train. Hashirama decided it would be more beneficial to his health to just leave the fan here and go find his friend himself. He could already guess where Madara was.

The river where they had skipped stones across the water in the past was a little outside what would one day become the village boundaries. Somehow Hashirama had not been comfortable with integrating the river into the village and thus disturbing its peace. After all, nothing had changed in this place in all these years. It was no man's land, an area that the clans had always ignored in all their conflicts. Madara and Hashirama had come to this river for the same reason: to escape all the war and misery. He had to smile involuntarily when he thought of all the beautiful hours he had spent here with his friend, when their friendship had still been their secret, belonging to them alone.

Madara, however, contrary to his expectations, was not to be found here and did not seem to be around. (Tobirama could say what he wanted, but Hashirama's sensory abilities were not that miserable after all).

Hashirama decided to wait here for Madara and take the opportunity to meditate. So much was happening lately, he rarely found peace. A pine tree was kind enough to offer him one of its branches to sit on. He gratefully accepted. He settled into the lotus position and closed his eyes. Then his senses flooded the surrounding forests.

From early childhood, he had felt a deep connection to all life around him. His father had initially dismissed it as useless nonsense that distracted him from his combat training, but when he was about six years old, it became clear that there was more to it than that. Because his Mokuton was so unique, no one really knew what to do with it at first. For Butsuma, what mattered most was that his skills gave him an invaluable advantage in battle and made him train hard to develop his abilities. He soon surpassed all his peers.

Mokuton was pure life force, a key to the energy that permeated everything, water, earth and ultimately life itself. Someone had entrusted Hashirama with this key and with it a deep understanding of the nature around him.

What had led to Hashirama possessing this unique kekkei genkai, no one knew. None of his brothers had ever shown any signs of possessing any of his skills either. Tobirama might be a genius, but in the end he too had to make do with conventional jutsus. Who knows, if only Itama and Kawarama had grown old enough ... But that was idle thinking.

Hashirama listened to the pulse of nature. Almost automatically, he went into Sage Mode to strengthen his connection. In moments like these, he stopped being an individual.

So he also sensed Madara approaching long before he was with him. Madara elegantly settled down beside him on the branch. Hashirama opened his eyes and saw that Madara was looking fascinated at the red patterns on his face with his Sharingan. All at once Hashirama's heart skipped a beat at this unexpected attention.

"What is this strange chakra?", Madara wanted to know. "Since when have you possessed it?"

Hashirama blinked to collect his thoughts and not to be too distracted by Madara's presence. "Senjutsu," he finally brought forth and dissolved the very same. The meditation was over. "And I've probably always possessed it, but I learned to use it better when I mastered my Mokuton as well. One is related to the other."

Madara tilted his head, and something about that gesture was oddly reminiscent of a bird of prey. "This particular chakra gives you extra powers, it seems to me. I've heard of it. So you went to the toads of Mount Myōboku and learned from them. Wait, wait. Was it the snakes of the Ryūchi cave? Oh no, don't let it be the snails from Shikkotsu Forest, that's gross."

Hashirama laughed out. "Neither. As I said before, it came naturally to me, in a way."

Madara eyed him thoughtfully with his Sharingan eyes. "You could have defeated me with it much earlier. Why didn't you?"

"Because you gave me no reason to," Hashirama said. "I mean, why should I have done that? I had never wanted to fight you as my enemy in the first place. You know I never wanted to achieve anything but peace. So what good would it have done me to take you down?"

At this, Madara fell silent. He averted his eyes. The Sharingan disappeared from his eyes as he gazed thoughtfully at the river below them. "So you are indeed stronger than me then," he finally said quietly.

Hashirama wondered what Madara was thinking about. "I have an unfair advantage, I guess you could say. So it doesn't count and we're evenly matched."

"It doesn't matter now anyway."

Something about Madara's tone made it clear to Hashirama that Madara was not in the mood for silly talk right now, so he let it go. Together they were silent, watching the passing water.

It was Madara who finally broke the silence. "Could you really have healed Izuna?"

Hashirama didn't need a Sharingan to still recall every single detail of that one moment. How his brother cut through Izuna as through air and literally gutted him. The blood that just wouldn't stop flowing. The fear in Izuna's eyes as he must have realised that his far too short life had been ended. The panic when Madara realised that his last brother had also been taken from him.

"Yes," he said regretfully. "I would have."

Madara pressed his lips together.

Izuna had been strong and stubborn. Hashirama had assumed Izuna would not die immediately from his wounds, but would cling to life with every bit he had left. It had to have been a cruel, slow death. That was why he had formulated a truce immediately after the battle and conveyed it to Madara. He had offered it without any conditions to help Izuna. It would have been difficult, even for him, but not impossible.

Unfortunately, Madara's response had consisted of outstretched arms. He didn't know what had happened in the meantime, Madara hadn't said a word about it. Well, except for the moment after they had met the elders. Hashirama didn't press him either, for he was aware of the deep trauma it must have left on his friend. But if the time came for Madara to break his silence, he would be there for him.

Outwardly, Madara appeared as nonchalant as he always did, with one arm draped over his knee as he followed the flow of the river. But his restless chakra betrayed what was really going on inside him.

"You are not alone, Madara, remember that," Hashirama therefore said.

"It won't bring my brother back to me either."

"No. But have you allowed yourself to mourn him? Have you shown your true feelings even once in the past few months?"

"We are no longer weak little children who sit and cry."

"The loss of a loved one inflicts a wound that no ointment or chakra in the world can heal. But tears can. There is no one here but us, no one can see when you are weak. And if you want, I can go and leave you alone. But believe me, that's not weakness, facing your grief, it takes great strength."

"You wooden head," Madara muttered. Still, he drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. And then, finally, he allowed himself his tears. His whole posture looked strained, as if he was trying with all his might to hold back the tears that had built up inside him, but it was to no avail. It was as if he was fighting a flood with his bare hands. He must have pent them up so much that they were now literally overrunning him in their intensity, and he didn't really seem to be handling them well if he was still trying to hold back his grief.

Hashirama moved up to him and was about to put a hand on his shoulder, but then didn't when he remembered that Madara didn't like touching for some reason. "That's it," he said softly instead. "Let go, nothing can happen to you."

Madara cried for solid ten minutes, and the fact that it took him so long to do so showed Hashirama that Madara still couldn't let go of his feelings. He had learned that the body could regulate emotions very well on its own if you just let it and didn't try to hold everything back somehow like Madara did anyway. But healthy grieving was not something Shinobi learned. Just one more reason why it was good that they could finally make peace.

Eventually, Madara did calm down. He sniffled and wiped the last tears from his eyes. Then he leaned back and looked up at the treetop. "I feel like shit."

"I could throw you in the river, it'll refresh you," Hashirama suggested.

"You tried that before and it didn't work."

"True. We both fell in."

"Shut up, baka."

Hashirama's response was to laugh heartily. But then he finally remembered the real reason he had come here. "Hey, Madara, I have something for you."

He fished the flower out of his clothes and handed it to his friend. Madara just looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Aha. A flower," he said, unimpressed.

"Yes. A daffodil. I met Yamanaka Ino today, a really lovely old lady who sells flowers. She gave me this one and said it would make an excellent gift for a friend. She said that if I gave this flower as a gift, I would be expressing how proud I am to be friends with you. And I mean, it's true. I'm really very happy that you're my friend."

"Your friend ...", Madara repeated thoughtfully. He took the daffodil in his hand and looked at it for a long time. An expression that Hashirama couldn't really interpret entered his eyes. "Do you really think we can just go back to the way things were? As if nothing had happened?"

"Well, it was not nothing. We fought and those were terrible fights, there's no denying that. But all these years I have also firmly believed that we could be friends again. I have refused to acknowledge any truth other than that. And you know I'm a wooden head. You seemed to have thrown away all that we had shared then, just like that. But I think that you didn't, that our time together meant something to you. Otherwise you wouldn't have stopped me when I ..."

"No, don't tell me," Madara interrupted him. "Don't remind me of that. Just the idea that you ... No."

At that they fell into silence. Madara held the daffodil between his fingers and seemed to ponder Hashirama's words. Hashirama looked at his friend and all at once it was as if he was really seeing him for the first time. You learned a lot about each other when you fought dozens of duels, but a human being had so many more facets. Life was not all battle and war and death.

Madara was pale, almost unhealthy, and his raven black hair was a stark contrast that only emphasised that. Hashirama had also not missed the numerous poorly healed scars covering Madara's body during their visit to the onsen. Madara avoided physical contact and probably that was the reason why his wounds, and thus his liver injury, had rarely been treated properly. Healing scar tissue was almost impossible and this only saddened Hashirama all the more because he knew he was the one who had done all this to Madara.

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the trees. The sunlight cast emerald shadows that danced on Madara's sharply cut features. Was his skin as soft as it looked? His lips, from which usually only deadly fire and sharp words came, as velvety as they promised?

All at once, Hashirama remembered his brother's words earlier that morning. Heart thumping wildly, he tore his gaze away. His ears were burning. He cleared his throat in embarrassment. "Um, Madara, there's one more thing I wanted to tell you, which is why I actually came to find you. Why were you actually alone in the forest?"

"Because I wanted to be alone," Madara pointed out. He sounded annoyed, but that was his basic state of mind, which was why Hashirama had long heard over it. "And that's why I didn't come here, because I knew full well you'd come looking for me. You're like a limpet. So out with it, what's up?"

"But you have to promise not to rip my head off."

"It'll grow back anyway. You can't be killed, just like weeds."

"Well, I may have found something that belongs to you. Your gunbai, to be exact. I don't know how that got into my stuff." Hashirama laughed nervously.

"You what?!" exploded Madara. "Why is this even coming to you? Huh? How dare you!"

"I don't know how that happened." Hashirama raised his hands defensively. "We found Tobirama's kunai in my stuff too. I already brought it to your house, so no need to worry."

"You will keep your hands off my things in the future, you got it!" Madara lunged out with his fist.

Their tussle ended, of course, with them both falling into the river.