Chapter Sixteen
A knock on the door broke Madara's concentration. On his computer screen, there was a long spreadsheet of the week's finances and distributions, and he glanced up before he straightened in his chair where his chin had been resting on his fist.
"Come in."
Shisui slipped inside Madara's office without hesitation and quietly closed the door behind him.
"Uncle," he greeted. He crossed the room until he stood before the desk Madara was seated behind before he reached into the inner pocket of his suit to withdraw a thick envelope. "I have the intel you requested."
"Already?" Madara inquired, unable to keep the impressed note out of his voice.
Shisui merely nodded. "You said it was urgent."
Without a word, Madara accepted the envelope and broke open the seal. The study was silent while he scanned the contents with interest as Shisui waited patiently.
Eventually his nephew asked, "Uncle, can I ask why you wanted me to gather information on the owners of surrounding hospitals?"
Madara finished his paragraph before he peered up at his nephew. Shisui was gazing down at him with a small pinch between his brows, like he honestly didn't understand Madara's scrutiny of the city's other hospitals.
"Because Hashirama is a very rich man and he owns twenty percent of Dr. Haruno's hospital. Men with his amount of money don't have all their assets in one location. I want to know where else his investments are," Madara explained calmly.
Shisui made a noise of acknowledgement, but didn't press further. Madara knew his nephew still didn't understand his desire for such information but Madara didn't provide an explanation. It was nothing Shisui needed to be concerned with.
Glancing at his nephew again, Madara gave pause as he eyed Shisui's freshly pressed suit and polished dress shoes. Even his normally unruly curls were tampered down and he was clean-shaven. Without taking his gaze off his nephew, Madara folded up the documents and returned them to the envelope before he set them aside. He eyed Shisui for a long moment before it dawned on him.
Today was Ino's birthday.
"Have you double-checked tonight's security?" Madara asked.
It was a needless question for he had already double and triple-checked that both Ino and Sakura's protection tonight would be flawless. They would be more untouchable than most government officials.
"I have," Shisui readily assured him. "Our men have secured the venue and off-duty police officers are providing additional protection. Even the Senju wouldn't risk drawing the anger of the police department. And I'll be escorting Dr. Haruno and Ms. Yamanaka personally."
Something sour and unpleasant rose within Madara's chest. It should be himself accompanying Sakura tonight, but he knew it was an option he couldn't even begin to consider. Since their argument a few nights ago, Madara had done his best to give her space. He itched to catch even a glimpse of her, but he forced himself to respect her wishes and stay away. If it wasn't him escorting her this evening, Madara would just have to be satisfied with his nephew taking his place.
"Very good. Keep me informed tonight," Madara said.
Shisui nodded. "Of course. We should be heading out soon."
Madara's gaze flickered down to his computer where the digital clock in the corner told him it was just before six. The trio would need to leave within the hour if they were to arrive at the venue on time. Reaching over, Madara opened the top drawer in his desk and withdrew an envelope. It was a simple birthday card with a small gift inside; a receipt for a salon chair for Ino's beauty boutique that would be delivered upon the next business day.
For several days now, Madara had considered how he could atone for the incident involving Tobirama. It was his fault Ino had been forcefully dragged into this terrible situation, but as Mikoto had said it best, he wasn't the best at apologizing. Madara had been running out of ideas until he had unintentionally overheard one of Ino's phone calls earlier that week as the blonde demanded to know how such a sturdy piece of equipment could have so easily been broken in a move. It was the best apology he could come up with while also disguising it as a birthday gift.
"Be sure to pass my birthday wishes along to Ino," Madara said, holding the envelope out towards Shisui.
His nephew accepted it and neatly tucked it into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. "Of course. I'll have my phone with me if you need me."
"If all goes well, it should be a quiet evening," Madara murmured.
With his dismissal, Shisui excused himself politely before he exited the office, closing the door securely behind him. The room was cast into silence once more.
In front of him, Madara's computer screen continued to glare back at him, a stark reminder of the work that still awaited him.
Even so, he was unable to draw his attention back to his laptop. His thoughts wandered back to that terrible night in the hallway outside the living room as it had so many times over the last several nights. Those haunting last words Sakura had snarled at him still rang in his mind, but what made him ache even more was her admission. She hadn't said the words outright, but Madara was intimately familiar with her to know that she honestly, truly believed this war between her and Tobirama would end only one way. With her death.
Something icy and foreboding snaked through Madara's ribs. Against his will, his gaze dropped to his phone where it lay dark on the desk beside his computer.
For four days now, he had been considering his next move; had carefully weighed the pros and cons, the possible outcomes and consequences. It had been many years since he had made contact with Hashirama, but his options had dwindled. He had to keep Sakura safe, even if that meant reaching out to his oldest enemy.
Picking up his phone, Madara unlocked his screen before he opened up a new message. He sent a quick text to the number he never kept saved in his phone. A simple location and time for tonight at the usual meeting place.
He wasn't expecting a reply, but he knew Hashirama would receive his message.
For the next hour, Madara forced his mind to concentrate on the spreadsheets on his computer. He ran numbers and percentages, and checked accounts and payments until his phone rang sometime later. Madara briefly glanced at the caller ID, only to take a second look when he saw Mikoto's name on the screen.
Immediately he answered, "Hello, Mikoto."
"Good evening, Madara," she said politely, her voice soft and smooth as always. "How are you?"
"Well," he replied automatically. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I asked my chef to retrieve some steaks from the butcher for dinner tonight. I wonder if you might join me. I've already extended an invitation to Izuna as well," Mikoto said.
That caused Madara's interest to pique. It wasn't often that his cousin hosted dinners within her home. She preferred to keep her home life separate from their business. He could only assume what she wanted to discuss was important.
With a glance at the clock in the bottom corner of his computer screen, Madara began saving his documents. "Of course. What time?"
"As soon as you're available."
With a promise he'd be there within the hour, Madara hung up before he secured his laptop in a locked drawer within his desk. He quickly made his way to his room to change into a fresh suit before he donned one of his classier watches. Once he was ready, he headed down the hallway and down the stairs.
Madara had just reached the bottom step when an achingly familiar voice reached his ears, "Ino, I swear if you're not out that door in three seconds, I'm going to go to the party without you."
Sakura.
Madara stilled as his gaze darted towards the hallway that led from the kitchen. Confusion drew the corners of his mouth down in a frown as his brows pinched together and he glanced down at his watch only for the furrow to deepen. Sakura and Ino were supposed to have left nearly an hour ago. Why were they still here?
"Will you relax?" Ino teased, just the slightest hint of a slur in her voice. "It's my birthday. Or did you forget?"
"As if I could. I've been planning this night for weeks. And you're about to ruin all my hard work," Sakura said. Her voice was flat but even from the hall, Madara recognized the warm note of playfulness in her tone.
The familiarity sent a heavy surge through his chest that was both pleasant and painful. He longed for her. It startled him how much he had missed something as simple as her voice, but nothing could prepare him for the moment Sakura stepped around the corner and into the room.
Both women were dressed beautifully, but Madara only had eyes for Sakura. She wore a dress he had never seen before. It was deep crimson with straps that hung off her shoulders. The material hugged her modest bust and clung to her toned stomach before it fell loosely around her hips and ended just below her knees. She entered the room in three-inch heels and the tension between his shoulder blades faded minutely when he saw the limp in her step had faded as had the stiffness in her back. She looked absolutely stunning.
And it made every fiber in his being ache.
A soft smile was playing on her rosy lips as she glanced at her best friend, but it vanished the instant her emerald eyes landed on him. Like a light being switched off, her entire demeanor flipped. Her eyes lost their warmth as her spine became rigid.
Somewhere deep within Madara's ribs, his chest constricted, but he forced the mask he had perfected decades ago into place. "Good evening, ladies," he said pleasantly.
Ino smiled politely while Sakura returned his greeting, her voice light albeit a little forced.
Madara quickly switched his gaze to the blonde before the tension could thicken any further. "Happy birthday, Ino. Are you two just now heading out for the night?"
"Yeah, we're just running a little late," Sakura said with a sideways glance at her best friend. "Shisui should be here any time though."
As if on cue, the front door opened to reveal his nephew. The curls that had been brushed and styled only an hour ago blew about in the wind before he closed the door behind him.
"Yikes, it's cold out there," Shisui said, pulling his jacket a little tighter around himself before he ran his hand through his once-again unruly hair. The moment he saw Ino and Sakura standing in the entryway, he smiled, "I have the car warmed up out front. Are you ladies ready to have a good time?"
Madara's gaze didn't waver from his nephew as that same bitterness from earlier returned to his chest. Only now it was magnified with Sakura standing a few feet away. She was so close and yet she had never been so far as if some invisible force was pressing between them, putting up a wall and leaving him helplessly unable to reach her.
"Are you going to be joining us the whole night?" Ino asked.
"I am, if that's alright with you," Shisui said pleasantly.
Madara's gaze flickered to Sakura's friend to find a flirty smile on the blonde's face as she boldly looked Shisui up and down. "Oh, most definitely."
A nearly silent sigh spilled from Sakura's lips as Ino crossed the room to join Shisui. The sound drew Madara's gaze and he glanced back at her in time to see a faint smile tugging on the corner of her lips as if the girls had done this song and dance time and time again.
In that moment, Madara longed to reach for her. To see that fondness directed towards him once again.
A blade of ice wedged between his ribs the instant Sakura realized he was watching her again and the look melted away. Their gazes met for only a split second before she glanced away.
"Good night," she murmured softly.
Madara nodded. "Enjoy your night," he returned just as quietly.
WIthout another word, Sakura stepped away to cross the room to where Ino and Shisui were waiting for her. Madara forced himself to turn away before the door closed.
With his back turned, he missed the backwards glance she stole at him over her shoulder.
xx
Less than an hour later, Madara parked outside Mikoto's home. She lived in a grand house much like his own, but unlike his, there was a welcoming hospitality that invited visitors in. Warm lights illuminated the brick walls and the walkway that led to the front door. There were flowers lining the path and a beautiful woven wreath of brown branches with dark, purple flowers and grapes hanging on the door.
A butler greeted Madara as he approached and eagerly welcomed him inside. The frosty night air was chased away the instant he stepped through the threshold and automatically his hunched shoulders relaxed as the heat encompassed him.
"Good evening, sir. May I take your jacket?" the older gentleman asked as Madara unbuttoned his outer layer and shrugged it off.
"Yes, thank you," Madara said, passing it over.
The butler made a point of folding the material carefully over his arm before he motioned further inside the house. "Madam Mikoto and Master Fugaku are expecting you. They are in the sitting room."
"Has Izuna arrived yet?" Madara asked. He hadn't seen his brother's car in the driveway.
The elder gentleman shook his head. "No, sir, but Madam Mikoto expects him shortly."
After murmuring an acknowledgement, Madara followed the familiar halls until he reached the sitting room. Inside, Mikoto sat beside her husband. He was dressed in a grey suit while Madara's cousin wore a classy, dark blue evening gown. The silky material hugged her curves while still remaining modest and demure. In the quaint sitting room, she looked like prestigious royalty.
Upon his entrance, the couple's conversation paused as Mikoto looked up before a genuine smile crossed her face. "Madara, I'm glad you could join us tonight. Please, come sit. Can we get you anything from the bar?"
She gestured towards the varnished mahogany counter in the corner, but Madara was quick to decline her before she could stand or call for aid.
"Nothing for now. Thank you," he said as he made himself comfortable on the couch across the way.
A low coffee table separated them and Mikoto reached for her wine where it sat on the wood before she asked, "How was your day? Uneventful, I hope."
"For the most part," Madara nodded. "All the accounts are accurate and everything has gone smoothly for Ino's party."
"I'm glad to hear. I sent Shisui off with a small gift for her birthday tonight," Mikoto said with a smile. Then it faded. "Sakura went with her. How is she since the accident?"
At her name, Madara's spine stiffened but he kept his expression carefully indifferent. "Better. Her injuries seem to be healing."
A smile crossed his cousin's face but it didn't quite reach her eyes, as if she knew just by that simple statement he and Sakura hadn't spoken. Fortunately, Fugaku was in the room and Mikoto quickly moved on with a seamless change in subject. She described how she was considering redecorating the room. She spoke of retiling the mantle and replacing the lights with a larger chandelier until Izuna arrived a short time later.
Dinner was served after that.
As per Mikoto's rules, there was no discussion of business while they ate. Instead, Mikoto spoke of the new mall being built downtown.
"It'll house nearly fifty retailers with a movie theater and underground parking. I'm quite interested to see if my favorite dress boutique will open another location," she told them, setting her knife and fork aside as she finished her meal.
Madara was interested in the construction as well, though his reasons weren't quite as innocent. The new mall would be an excellent location to set up a new operation. Perhaps he should consider offering the building company a generous donation in exchange for a private, unmarked loading garage not on the blueprints.
"Is that the construction near the Bentley dealership?" Izuna asked, his own plate empty as he grasped his glass of whiskey loosely in his hand.
Mikoto nodded. "It is."
That piqued Madara's curiosity. Had his brother already scoped out the area?
"You don't own a Bentley," Madara stated.
Izuna sipped his drink before he nodded his agreement. "Not yet. I've been considering trading in my Mazda for something a little...classier."
"The Mazda is a classy car," Fugaku said, his tone mildly defensive.
Madara hid the amused smirk in the corner of his mouth behind his water glass, knowing full well the man had purchased a new Mazda recently.
"Another car?" Mikoto asked Izuna. "That would be your third one this year."
"What can I say? I enjoy that new car smell," Izuna teased with a smile.
"More like you get bored easily," Madara said, his voice soft but full of amusement.
Izuna's gaze slid to his brother. "Who are you to judge? You have four cars."
"That you know of," Madara murmured.
His younger brother smirked but their attention turned to Fugaku as he said, "The Mazda is the more preferred car. It has a faster acceleration and better fuel consumption."
"Hardly," Izuna disagreed. "The Bentley has more torque and horsepower, making it accelerate seven and a half seconds faster than the Mazda. And as for fuel consumption, if I cared about that I would buy a Prius."
A low chuckle rumbled in Madara's chest at his brother's reply while Mikoto hid her laughter behind her wine.
Fugaku frowned, but they were saved from further argument when the staff arrived to offer another serving. They all declined.
As the table was cleared, Madara wandered out onto the back balcony for some air. It overlooked the manicured grounds of the backyard. Rows of rose bushes lined the stone paths that led down to a fountain made of marble. The water gleamed in the moonlight and reflected back at him.
The frosty night air clung to Madara's jacket and fought to penetrate the layers to his skin, but the fire table lit behind him kept the worst of the chill at bay. The heat radiated against his back, making the bitterness tolerable.
Alone, Madara thought of the text he sent that evening, of the meeting that awaited him tonight. It had been a long time since he had discussed negotiations with Hashirama. That had been before the oldest Senju brother had left the country. Before Tobirama had begun pressing his authority and power. Before Sakura. Many things had changed since he and Hashirama had spoken last.
The sound of the balcony door sliding open drew Madara from his thoughts. Behind him, he heard the heels of his cousin's shoes against the concrete as she stepped outside.
"May I join you?" Mikoto asked.
The corner of his mouth lifted in amusement and he shot his cousin a look over his shoulder. As if she needed to ask permission within her own home.
"Of course," Madara granted.
The door slid closed behind her before she approached the edge of the balcony where Madara stood. She was still dressed in her evening gown, but she had thrown a plush, white fox fur stole over her shoulders to keep the worst of the bitter cold at bay.
They stood in silence for a few moments as they gazed upon the grounds before Mikoto finally murmured, "You were quiet at dinner tonight. Are you alright?"
The lie nearly tumbled off Madara's tongue on reflex but he caught himself. His cousin would recognize his dishonesty in an instant. "I've had much to think about."
"It's been a rough few weeks," Mikoto agreed quietly.
Few months, Madara corrected mentally.
"I spoke with Itachi," he said out loud. "The man he put security detail on for Ino is still in critical condition in the hospital. Tobirama attempted to assassinate him. He took two bullets to the chest. Fragments were found in his left lung. It's touch and go at this point."
A frown crossed Mikoto's face. "Which hospital is he in?"
"Downtown on Sixth Street."
"Sakura's hospital," Mikoto said.
It wasn't a question but Madara nodded nonetheless. "He should be safe there. At least from the Senju. Even with Hashirama working inside the hospital, it's neutral territory."
"Unless the Senju choose to break boundaries again."
The thought had crossed Madara's mind. Even if Tobirama or Hashirama decided to finish their man, it would be difficult. The hospital was in the heart of the city. Some of the patients brought there were small-time gang members and violent offenders brought in by police after resisting arrest. Armed guards were stationed at every entrance, including the ER in case there were any incidents. It would be near impossible to sneak into the ICU and kill Itachi's man without getting caught.
The balcony lapsed into silence as they each rolled through their thoughts. Only the gentle breeze disturbed the quiet, causing the leaves to shiver against their branches while the hanging plants rustled.
Eventually, Mikoto murmured, "Have you spoken to Sakura?"
"Not of anything of consequence," he replied, ensuring his voice was nonchalant and utterly unreadable.
Beside him, his cousin released a soft, sympathetic sigh. "She'll come around. Sakura isn't the type of person to hold onto her anger."
Madara wanted to believe her, but he couldn't get the memory of Sakura in the hallway that night out of his head. Her rage had been suffocating. Madara had thought himself invincible until those fiery words had sliced through the thick steel of his armor like a scorched blade. He didn't think he had ever heard such sheer, scorching hate in a person's voice before.
I wish I had never met you.
The scrape of the balcony door opening again was a welcome distraction. Madara shook the bitter memory out of his mind and he glanced towards the doorway just as Izuna closed the glass behind him. There was a freshly poured tumbler of whiskey in his fingers.
"It's freezing out here," Izuna complained, shoving his free hand in his pocket.
"Autumn came early this year," Mikoto agreed, turning her head to regard him.
Izuna made a noise of displeasure as he joined them at the stone railing. "Seems to come earlier every year," he grumbled.
The corner of Mikoto's lips twitched in amusement, but it quickly faded as her expression sharpened. "I'm glad you joined us. I called you both here tonight to tell you that there's been new activity from the Senju."
That caused Madara to straighten as Izuna lowered the whiskey he was about to sip.
"How do you know? Did Shisui or Itachi see something?" Izuna asked.
"No, I saw it myself," Mikoto told him. "While I was looking at the new mall I had mentioned earlier, I saw Tobirama's men."
"Did you see Tobirama himself?" Madara asked, his voice a little sharper with interest.
To his displeasure—or was it relief—their cousin shook her head. "No, just his men. But they were definitely snooping around. I wonder if Tobirama plans to start an operation. It would give him traction to expand his territory closer to the heart of the city."
Closer to Sakura, Madara thought.
"If that's true, we need to thwart that plan immediately," Madara said calmly. "We should contact the builders and request a private garage and loading bay. No later than tomorrow morning."
Mikoto hummed her agreement. "My very thoughts."
"I can transfer the funds tonight," Madara said.
"And I can reach out to the contractors tomorrow morning," Izuna added.
Mikoto nodded with approval. "Tobirama can keep his territory to the North but I don't want him anywhere near downtown. I want to keep him out of the city. We've been far too lax lately and it's cost us," she said, her voice low but hard. "I don't want our enemies or our allies thinking we've gone soft."
"Do you think we should dispose of Tobirama's men?" Izuna asked.
Madara weighed their options before he shook his head. "I think it's wise we don't draw any unnecessary attention from the police, but we should make our presence known to the Senju," he told his brother.
"I agree with Madara," Mikoto nodded. "Only use force if necessary. Try to see if you can intimidate them out of the area. If you can't, then do what you need to do."
"And if Tobirama is there?"
A dark look flashed behind Madara's eyes. "If Tobirama is there, you'll contact me immediately and I'll deal with him myself."
"We won't have another incident like earlier this week," Mikoto agreed firmly.
Flickering his gaze towards his cousin, Madara saw a fleeting but sinister shadow turn her eyes steely. It was then that he realized his cousin was just as angry about the attack on Sakura as he was. He knew she had a soft spot for Sakura, but now it was only too clear to him that she was in fact quite protective of her. Something warm soothed the ache in his chest, but it was gone as quickly as it came as his thoughts turned to the events that lay ahead for them all.
"Just be careful," Madara told his younger brother. "Tobirama hasn't been seen since the attack on Sakura four days ago. We don't know if Sakura was correct and Hashirama called his brother back or if Tobirama is lying in wait."
"I'll keep a sharp eye," Izuna said solemnly.
Madara nodded at his brother's acknowledgement just as the door to the balcony slid open. Mikoto's butler peeked his head out.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, madam, but young master Itachi has returned home," he said.
In an instant, Mikoto's features softened. "Thank you, I'll come now. If you'll excuse me, gentlemen. I'll be a few minutes."
Without another word, she slipped through the door. The butler closed it behind her, leaving the two brothers to themselves.
For a long moment, they didn't speak. Only the rustle of the wind in the distance filled the space between them until eventually Izuna asked, "Do you really think Hashirama ordered Tobirama back?"
A heavy but silent sigh passed through Madara's nose. "Sakura said Hashirama told her he would, but we can't be certain. Hashirama has kept his word with every promise and threat he's ever made, but we don't know exactly what he told her."
Izuna hummed an agreement before he fell quiet. However, that silence didn't last long. "Are you ever going to tell me what's going on with the two of you?"
The abrupt question took Madara by surprise. He was thankful for the low balcony light at his back for it shadowed the way his eyes widened and he recovered quickly. The lie readied itself on his tongue, but one look from Izuna stopped it dead. Another quiet moment passed as Madara carefully collected his next words. "Things have gotten complicated between Sakura and I as of lately."
"You two are sleeping together."
"Mikoto told you."
To his surprise, Izuna shook his head before he sipped his whiskey. "You're my brother, Madara. I see the way you act around her. And before you say it, I know it's not just physical either. You've never been this way with another woman before."
Something unpleasant unfurled in Madara's chest at having the truth revealed, but he kept his emotions in check. Just as Izuna had said, they were brothers. They had been close since childhood. He was bound to have found out eventually.
"I don't blame you. She's attractive and smart. Not to mention a hell of a lot tougher than I ever gave her credit for," Izuna said. A soft chuckle escaped him as if he was recalling some humorous memory as he grasped the stone railing with his free hand and gazed out over the property. The sound quickly faded though as his expression turned somber. "Just be careful. This thing with Tobirama is spiraling out of control. His need for revenge has turned into an obsession. I worry that even if Hashirama has ordered Tobirama to stand down, he may be too far gone to listen."
"Which is something I intend to find out very soon," Madara murmured.
That caused Izuna to glance over at him. He eyed Madara with a slight frown, his gaze briefly dropping down to his hands before finding his face again. "You haven't had a single drink tonight. What are you planning?"
Madara inhaled a silent breath before he admitted, "I'm going to speak to Hashirama. One-on-one, face-to-face."
Just as he expected, Izuna's eyes widened. "Are you sure that's wise?"
"I have done so before."
"Before we killed Tobirama's main man, before Sakura shot Tobirama in the face," Izuna argued quietly.
"And before Tobirama killed Asao and nearly killed Sakura. Before he executed Sasuke," Madara countered. "Neither side has acted so innocently. Hashirama is open-minded enough to see that."
"You give that man too much credit."
"It isn't credit. It's an understanding that we both have much to lose in a war."
Izuna frowned. "We have more to lose than him."
"I wouldn't be too certain," he said softly. "Tobirama is Hashirama's last living brother."
The disapproving look on Izuna's face continued to linger. "Even so, what makes you think Hashirama will care enough to pull Tobirama back?"
Madara had considered that question himself over the last several days. The only reason he was sure Hashirama had agreed to meet with him now was because of their history.
"Do you remember the incident with Danzo?" Madara eventually asked.
Confusion pulled Izuna's brows together. "That was decades ago. What does that have to do with anything?"
"Hashirama was the one to contact me after Danzo murdered his youngest brothers," Madara told him. "He asked for my help to eliminate him. He promised me money and weapons, but I didn't need either. There was nothing he could offer me that sparked my interest, but I still hunted Danzo down and killed him myself."
If possible, his younger brother only looked more puzzled. "Then why did you?"
A soft sigh pressed out of Madara's nose and he turned around to lean his lower back against the railing. Crossing his arms over his chest, he peered up at the stars speckling the night sky. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. "You may not know this, you were only ten at the time, but before Danzo committed his crimes against the Senju, he worked for our father. After his death, our mother cast Danzo out for attempting to do some seedy dealings under the table. Personally, I was indifferent to the deaths of Itama and Kawarama, but I also knew that if Danzo did gain traction, it would cause a whole list of problems for our family down the road."
Madara looked back down at Izuna when his younger brother remained silent. There was a frown on his mouth and a pinch between his brows as he processed the information. As shocking as it may be, it was long-dead news and Madara fixed Izuna with a hard stare.
"Just because there isn't an obvious benefit for Hashirama to order Tobirama to stand down, it doesn't mean he doesn't have an ulterior motive."
Diverting his eyes, Izuna nodded before he balanced his still mostly-full drink on the railing, setting it aside. "For our sake, I hope he doesn't, but I'll keep my phone on me, in case you need me."
In case Madara needed back up.
A subtle but grateful smile crossed Madara's face. He knew Izuna would always have his back. "Thank you."
xx
At just after three in the morning, Madara arrived at the location he had texted Hashirama. It was the only restaurant in the city open twenty-four hours in a high-rise building. The only place that provided privacy for men like them to discuss business. The only place either man felt comfortable enough to talk without the threat of weapons trained on them.
After leaving his car with the valet, Madara climbed the small staircase to the lobby of the building. A doorman greeted him as he slipped inside before he headed towards the elevator bank in the middle of the hall. There, he pressed the button for the highest level.
The restaurant took up the entire forty-sixth floor. It had solid mahogany floors and rich, maroon drapes to keep out the glare of the city lights below. Instead, the room was illuminated with crystal chandeliers that bathed the entire setting in warm hues. Each table was spaced well away from the others to keep conversations confidential with lush, high-backed chairs for privacy and comfort.
From where Madara stood at the entrance, the room was mostly empty this time of night, but an entire team of staff stood on standby, just waiting to be summoned should their guests need anything.
"Good evening, sir," a woman in her mid-thirties greeted him as he approached. "Just one tonight or are you expecting more in your party?"
"I have a reservation under Uchiha," he told her.
Her face lit up in recognition. "Of course, sir. Your other party already arrived. He has already been seated. I can take you to him immediately."
The greeter led Madara across the room to the far side near one of the windows hidden behind the long drapes. With the tall chairs, Hashirama was nearly completely concealed from sight. The only way Madara could tell that the table was occupied was from the polished shoes that stuck out near the foot of the chair and the half-empty glass of scotch on the linen-covered table.
The instant Madara approached, Hashirama turned his head to regard him. He looked much the same as he had years earlier with his long, brown hair and sharp, calculating gaze. However, there were a few more wrinkles around his mouth and eyes now. He wore a light brown suit and tie with an expensive but a modest watch on his wrist. He studied Madara silently with an expression that gave nothing away, but he didn't utter a word. Not with their third party still present.
"Here we are, sir," the young woman said with a faint gesture towards the table. "Your server will be with you shortly."
Then she was gone, leaving Madara alone with Hashirama for the first time in over five years.
"Good evening, Hashirama," Madara said with all the politeness in the world.
A faint but pleasant smile crossed Hashirama's lips. "Madara, you've arrived. Please join me," he greeted with a gesture to the space across from him. "May I get you anything?"
Madara bit back his smirk of amusement as he lowered himself down into the velvety chair. Hashirama made it sound like he owned the restaurant, which Madara knew for a fact he didn't. All of his establishments were a few blocks north.
With a polite shake of his head, Madara declined his offer. "No, thank you."
"I hope you won't be offended if I do. I've had a busy night myself," Hashirama said. He drained the rest of his drink before he raised his empty cocktail glass towards the waiting waitress. She hurried to quickly take it from him before she vanished once more to retrieve his order.
"Hopefully not busy with anything of too much consequence," Madara said conversationally.
The corner of Hashirama's mouth twitched. "Nothing to be concerned about. Just tidying up."
They both knew Madara hadn't been pressing for information, but Hashirama's answer gave Madara some unexpected relief. At least Hashirama had been too preoccupied working in his own household to be concerned with Madara's.
It wasn't until the waitress had returned with Hashirama's drink and he had taken a healthy sip that their conversation continued. "It has been some time since you and I last spoke," Hashirama said.
Madara nodded. "Indeed. Much has changed in that time."
"Hence our reason for this meeting tonight." Hashirama sipped his drink again before he waved his hand in the air. "Tell me, what concerns you?"
As if he didn't already know. The pleasantries were over. Madara got straight to the point.
"I've reached the end of my patience with your brother. I accepted long ago that the Uchiha and Senju will always be at odds but Tobirama has taken things to an entirely new level lately."
"You mean the attempt on Sakura's life."
Madara's spine stiffened at the familiar use of Sakura's name out of Hashirama's mouth, but he kept his expression carefully neutral. He didn't so much as blink. "Dr. Haruno Sakura, yes."
"I will tell you what I told her," Hashirama said indifferently, setting his glass back down onto the table. "What my brother does in his free time is at his discretion. He's not a child. I don't keep tabs on him."
His blatant disinterest caused fire to spread through Madara's veins like a wildfire. "And yet you told Dr. Haruno that you would order Tobirama to stand down. So, did Tobirama blatantly defy you or are you no longer a man of your word?"
Hashirama remained silent, but Madara didn't miss the vein in his temple that began to throb. It lasted only a few seconds before disinterest settled over his expression again. It looked like Madara would have to push harder.
"You forget what a war would cost."
Hashirama reached for his scotch again as he murmured, "Cost you."
"Cost us," Madara corrected, his voice steely. "Or have you forgotten where Itama and Kawarama are buried?"
Hashirama's drink stilled halfway to his lips as his entire body stiffened. When he peered at Madara again, his brown eyes were no longer emotionless. Instead wrath pulled the corners of his mouth down.
"Would you prefer this to be a hostile meeting?"
Madara's fingers itched to draw the weapon tucked into his side. The gangster in him wanted to see the blood gush from Hashirama's chest and watch the life drain out of his eyes as a death rattle spilled from his lips. The dark satisfaction that would come from his death would give Madara a high he hadn't felt in some time.
At least until he thought of Sakura. Of her laugh and smile as she teased him. Of her raspy voice when she awoke in the morning or came home tired from work. No, his best high was when he was with her. He had called this meeting for her.
Drawing a silent, but calming breath into his lungs, Madara cast aside his urges. He wasn't here to take low shots at Hashirama. His motives were far more important than that.
"I didn't come here to offend you or instigate an argument. We don't need another incident like the one in Chinatown all those years ago," Madara said, his tone pacifying and more collected this time.
To his relief, the downward pull in the corner of Hashirama's mouth slowly faded and he reached for his drink again. "I thought we came to a great understanding in Chinatown."
"Our gunfight ended in an entire city block being burnt to the ground," Madara said flatly.
"A certain level of collateral damage is to be expected."
"Hn, so ashes are proof of a successful negotiation..."
"Indeed."
A faint smirk had curled in the corners of Hashirama's mouth. He looked a little too amused as he recalled the incident that had cost them both thousands of dollars in damages, but Madara preferred this to his anger.
Waving his hand in the air, Madara redirected the conversation back on track. "As you know, Dr. Haruno is the head trauma surgeon at one of the hospitals both you and I hold a large share of," he said factually. "Her safety is a necessity to keep our assets running smoothly and right now, your brother is threatening that. If he does away with her, the hospital will lose money while it struggles to find another surgeon as competent as her."
Hashirama didn't immediately reply, but Madara could see the wheels in his head turning. If there was one thing Hashirama cared about besides his brother, it was money. Any threat to his finances would be swiftly dealt with.
"You take an eager interest in her," Hashirama eventually murmured softly. "I must say, I've never seen you go so far to protect someone outside your family. I wonder, what is your true relationship with her?"
Something cold snaked through Madara's chest at Hashirama's unwavering stare. His gaze was just a little too interested, a little too knowing. Madara gazed back stone-faced, but he knew Hashirama had caught the scent of an important detail. He was like a bloodhound that way.
Unblinking, Madara met his stare. "Dr. Haruno is a protected interest. And if you have any regard for your own assets, she should be to you as well."
Before Hashirama could reply, their waitress appeared with a dish of freshly grilled steak and mashed potatoes with a creamy mushroom sauce. She set it in front of Hashirama. "Here's your order, sir. Can I get you anything else?"
Without looking at her, Hashirama waved her away. Even after she left, he didn't immediately reach for his fork and knife. Instead, he gazed directly at Madara.
"My meal has arrived."
The corners of Madara's mouth threatened to twitch down into a frown. He knew a dismissal when he heard one and while he had strived to come to some understanding tonight, he wasn't overly surprised they hadn't agreed upon anything. Madara had made his concerns known and placed the ball in Hashirama's court. Now it was up to him to decide if he would let his brother ruin his reputation as an investor or if he would put an end to Tobirama's compulsive need for revenge.
Inclining his head, Madara stood and excused himself. "Contact me when you've made your decision."
DISCONTINUED
UPDATE: So, in the last year, the amount of reader engagement has completely dropped off the map. Comments are few and far between while favorites and alerts are as high as ever. So I will no longer be updating this story. Favorites and alerts mean NOTHING. They do nothing to show your support or appreciation for my story. Thank you to the few that have continued to comment through the years, but it's devastating to not get recognition after so much hard work. This is the end of my patience.
Under NO circumstances, do I give my permission for this work to be edited/rewritten/reposted or continued by another user.