asoiaf!naruto. #AksaraAgustus - litah; to talk freely without restrain, spilling secrets
set after chapter 7 of the art of war...
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"oh! what brings you so early here?"
madara stopped buttoning up his shirt, listening intently. he was hidden away from his chamber's entrance, behind a partition and half a dozen other heavy set of furniture. hashirama's tone spoke of cheerful surprise, which made it suspicious. who was it? he didn't need to mold his chakra; the guest replied immediately.
"i need to ask you something."
he grinned to himself. the younger senju–wait, he's lord senju now; leader to his clan and his alliance and blahblahblah–was his second favorite game after the older one. the uneasiness in his voice fed the emperor's delight.
steps. "what is it, tobirama?" his next words were too inaudible, but hashirama's next reaction was enough for him. "…where did you hear that!?"
"izuna."
a pause. "you believe her?" an awkward laugh. "don't take it seriously; she's just joki–"
"sister."
she fell silent. ah, poor hashirama, being cornered by her own blood sibling. time to rescue her then.
madara unbuttoned his shirt, unceremoniously tossing it away as he left the partition. he maintained eye contact with lord senju, who scrunched up his nose upon seeing his shirtless state. hugging her from behind, madara slid his hand over hashirama's womb, and kept it there.
tobirama's eyes narrowed.
madara had to suppress a grin. "morning, hashi." he lightly kissed her neck, on the dragon's mark he left nights ago. "what does our little brother want?"
"madara," hashirama hissed, warning him.
"nothing," tobirama answered, lips pulled in a tight diplomatic smile. "pardon my intrusion, your majesties." he bowed slightly and left without another word.
hashirama shoved his arms, turning around. "can't you be at least more civil towards him?" she sighed deeply.
he raised an eyebrow. "wasn't that civil enough? we weren't raising our swords."
"never mind that; where's your clothes? we're already late for breakfast… let's not make the elders wait." hashirama grabbed a wooden comb, tidying her hair.
"there's no need to rush." madara crossed his arms, watching the muscles on her exposed back. "they are expecting us to be late."
hashirama looked at him through her mirror's reflection. "…you should've told me earlier; i could use more sleep."
"oh no, you shouldn't be sleeping."
"so what do you suggest i should do?"
madara cocked his head to the side, smirking. "strip, hashirama."