"So… this little thing will help to ward off evil spirits?"
Madara made a random, affirmative noise through his nose at Hashirama's gullible question. The latter was crouched near the ground, a hesitant finger poking at the dormant seal he had just drawn inside an unused shed situated on the leftmost edge of the Senju clan compound. Knowing that it would seem suspicious if he kept his silence, Madara tried to explain the properties of the seal as much as possible without giving away its true purpose.
"Rather than the evil spirits themselves, the seal is more of a protective barrier to prevent mental corruption from outside forces. And if someone is already possessed, staying within the barrier will gradually release the evil spirit's hold on them, though the length does depend on how long they've already been possessed for.
"Take example the Yamanaka clan's mind-arts. Within this barrier, they would not be able to enter another person's mind and/or body since the seal works as a repellent. Although there are ways to get around it –since nothing is foolproof– said person would need to know more than just the basics of fuinjutsu to be able to work around it."
Since Hashirama was a shinobi first and foremost, explaining it in a way that would benefit the clan was better than superstitious crap, even if said person was a scaredy-cat and did believe in the existence of ghosts. Who would be dumb enough to refuse a free seal that could potentially prevent the Yamanaka from snooping in their territory, anyway?
Pausing slightly, he crouched next to Hashirama and tapped his tessen on the seal, thus activating it. To the untrained eye, the squiggles merely glowed for a couple of seconds before completely vanishing from sight. To the trained eye, however, the effect of the seals could be felt, extending outwards and covering a quarter of the clan compound.
Hashirama turned curiously at him, and without needing the Senju to ask, Madara was already elaborating.
"It would be counterproductive for the seal to be visible since the evil spirits could simply order their possessed host to destroy it either via overwrite or property damage. Thus, I made it so that after activation, it would be hidden, though be warned that sensors and fuinjutsu masters could easily tell that something is here. But don't just take my word for it; show this to your lovely wife or Tobirama and confirm it yourself."
Hashirama hummed quietly, eyebrows scrunched as if he were in deep thought. Madara left him to it and stood to stretch, pleased that he was finally on the right track again.
Zetsu would no doubt be frothing at the mouth and throwing a hissy fit as soon as the other three seals were drawn and activated, thus boxing the Senju clan compound in an unseen, protective barrier against mental corruption, just like the one at the Uchiha clan compound.
However, before the control it has over Kawarama could be permanently cut, the cunning being would do anything to prevent that from happening. Madara would need to find a way to keep Kawarama inside the barrier at all costs – which was easier said than done. If Kawarama had been an Uchiha, Madara could just throw him at Ryouta. Alas, Madara has no control over Senju clan members.
Although Kawarama was already benched by Tobirama, Zetsu could easily pull some strings to make it so that Kawarama would be needed elsewhere, maybe even on a long-term infiltration mission until he was able to build discord amongst them, which would lead to further bloodshed. Or at least, that was what Madara would have done that if he were in Zetsu's shoes.
"Well then," Madara chirped whilst extending a hand to Hashirama's crouched figure. "Shall we continue?" Three more seals to go, all placed at the corner most edges of the compound (north, west, and south left), before the barrier could truly work its magic.
Hashirama blinked, before taking his hand with a megawatt grin and pulling him towards the northern gate's direction. Too bright, too blinding, Madara had to squint.
"Righto! There's this abandoned public toilet at the north which we tend to avoid. You can put the seal there. Rumour has it that, Hanako-san, one of our more bloodthirsty ancestors, haunts the third stall after tragically dying from food poisoning–"
Madara nodded occasionally as he was enthusiastically dragged by Hashirama. They conversed about everything and nothing at the same time, mostly about urban legends and supernatural-esque rumours or something along those lines.
When he finished with the seal located at the abandoned public toilet, which he purposefully placed inside the third stall –much to Hashirama's horror– they moved onto the western side of the compound.
"Nobody would walk through this alleyway or pass by this specific dumpster. Rumour has it that Ibitsu-san, a young girl in a weird dress of some kind, would ask any passerby if they had a sister. If they answered yes, she would kill the passerby's sister to replace her, and if they answered no, she would become their sister. The only way to survive an encounter with her is to not answer at all. Fortunately, I only have brothers, so I don't have to worry about this ghost. Hah, I'd ignore anyone who asks me such a silly question! No, in fact, the one who asks those types of questions are silly!"
When Hashirama nodded with confidence oozing out of him in spades, Madara raised an unimpressed eyebrow. This called for some pin cushioning.
"We shouldn't be disrespectful in front of the person we are talking about."
"Eh? W-What?" The Senju clan head meeped.
Madara ignored Hashirama's sudden need to stick as close as humanly possible to him and carried on drawing a seal behind the dumpster. Who told Hashirama, a scaredy-cat when it came down to all matters ghosts, act so boldly in front of him? He was practically begging for Madara to deflate his 'courage'.
As soon as Madara uttered the word done, Hashirama ran out of the alleyway as if his bum was lit on fire. Madara had to shake his head at the man's foolishness and leisurely followed the human tree that was Hashirama.
One more seal to go.
"There's this abandoned warehouse, which used to be a torture chamber, located at the south. It's, well, abandoned because rumour has it, a murdering ghost wearing mask would wander around that area. She would appear before those walking alone at night to ask them if she's beautiful. If they answered no, she'll kill them! But if they answered a yes, she'll reveal her face –which is grotesque since her mouth has been slit from ear to ear– and cut an identical smile onto their face! According to the rumours, the ghost was an enemy kunoichi who had been tortured by our ancestors, thus the reason why she–"
Madara, now completely focused on Hashirama's interesting ghost tales, had to wonder why there were so many urban legends (and abandoned buildings) surrounding the Senju clan compound. Were the Senjus just that afraid of ghosts, or was this just Hashirama being Hashirama?
But let it be known that Madara would not be Madara if he did not take advantage of those urban legends to pull a prank on his friend.
Because Madara was addicted to Hashirama's terrified facial expressions, he purposefully dragged his friend into the abandoned warehouse and found the deepest, darkest corner, stained deep brown due to the ungodly amount of blood spilt, and squatted to draw the last seal of the day.
Hashirama 'eek'-ed at every little noise heard whilst Madara drew. The man, who was built like a brick house, had a death grip on the back of Madara's garment as he cowered from unseen shadows and his imagination. Madara could hardly contain his smirk when a particularly loud creak echoed behind them when the wind came through the barely hanging door, causing Hashirama to shriek in terror.
"A-Are yo-you d-d-d-don-ne yet?!" Hashirama whimpered whilst sticking closer to Madara, his head turning this and that way in paranoia.
"Just a little more," Madara answered 'distractedly'. "Why don't you entertain our guests whilst I work?"
Hashirama's neck made a particularly loud snap at how quickly the Senju turned to look at him. His face was deathly pale and filled with despair and denial. "G-g-g-g-guest?! W-what guest?!"
"Oh, you know… that woman with the mask. She has been eyeing us since –"
Fortunately, Madara had already finished and activated the seal before Hashirama bodily threw him over a shoulder and fled the warehouse-that-used-to-be-a-torture-chamber with a piercing shriek and tears that flowed like a river behind them.
Madara had to physically cover his grin to hide his amusement. At times like these, Hashirama was far too easy to tease. What a delightful end to this little side-quest of his. Now, all that was left was to return the groom to the bride, and to leave this event without anyone the wiser to his deeds.
As much as he enjoyed being Deai Daraku, it was time for Uchiha Madara to return. Rather than continue to idle about, he needed to move on to the next important matter on his to-do list. There was simply no rest for the wicked, even if being Deai Daraku had been a respite to his still-recovering body.
Madara tried not to show his fatigue as the afterparty raged through the night. He might have overdone it with the seals and the running around the compound thing, especially after the stunt he had pulled to save his daughter's life. Madara did not regret it, of course, but his body definitely hated him for it. Perhaps it was time he excused himself? But how without getting pulled into yet another eating or drinking contest...?
Many of the Uzumakis, even now, continued to shovel mountains of food into their blackholes whilst the Senjus binged their liquor like tonight was their last night alive. Truly monstrous appetites these two clans have. No wonder they get along so well.
"Shishou?" Madara set aside his glass of wine and turned to face his disciple with one eyebrow raised. "Should I find you a quiet place to rest?"
At the healer's worried tone of voice and concerned expression, Hashirama, Mito, and Touka seemed to scrutinize him from top to bottom. Madara hid his scowl behind his tessen. Stupid disciple needed further training on discretion. "I'm fine. Pay me no heed."
"But…" Although Madara narrowed his eyes warningly, it went right over Itama's head. Probably due to how dark it had become and how Itama had drunk as much as Hashirama had. "Your body should still be fatigued after what you've gone through this month. At least let me find you a chair or… hm, has anyone seen Tobi-nii? He can keep shishou company whilst they rest…"
"Huh, did something happen?" Touka, ever the blunt person, was blunter after the gazillion glass of wine she had. "Did'ja recently get stabbed? Give me their name and I'll end them for you."
"Nothing happened," Madara insisted but his happily drunk disciple decided to say otherwise.
"Zuha-chan was born this month," Itama interrupted with a dopey smile, completely forgetting that Kazuha was supposed to be a secret, and her alias should have been Hazuka whilst Madara was in his Daraku disguise. "She was premature so shishou had a rough time. That means! Shishou, you can't overdo it and have plenty of rest! You only just recovered… not even a week ago! And you're already drinking so much...!"
Madara resisted the urge to strangle his idiot disciple in front of the entire Senju and Uzumaki clan when three pairs of (drunken) eyes stared at him with concern. The sole Uchiha rubbed his temples when even Touka, the brutish woman that she was, dragged a chair over and bodily forced him to sit.
"Hashirama, be a gentleman and retrieve Tobirama-kun from my parents, will you? Let him escort Deai-san to rest at his house."
"Oh, right. Tobi was pulled into discussing some kind of… something political whatnot… with your folks."
Hashirama murmured drunkenly in agreement at his wife's suggestion despite Madara's assurance that he was fine for goodness's sake, and off the Senju clan head went to save his poor ice block of a brother from politics at a wedding afterparty.
Why were they even discussing politics at this particularly joyous event…? No, that was not it. Why did this quartet only remember to save Tobirama only now? Seriously, poor Tobira…
After enduring a few minutes of mollycoddling from the trio, Tobirama appeared with a grumpy scowl on his face, arm interlocked with his eldest brother's as he was bodily dragged towards their group.
As they got closer, Madara could hear snippets of their conversation. And what a one-sided conversation it was. No wonder Hashirama was on Tobirama's shit list.
"–n hour, anija, an hour."
"But Tobi~! If it hadn't been you then it would've been me!"
"Oh, I see how it is. Twenty years of brotherly bond and you've decided my time is nought, and it would be more practical to sacrifice me to your in-laws?"
"Eyy, that's not true! They're your in-laws too."
"That was not the point I was trying to convey, anija! Mito is my sister-in-law. Her parents are merely political adversaries that you've had the gall to repeatedly throw my way whenever you deem them a menace to your alone time with your spouse."
"Well, if you put it that way…"
"Anija. If you dare to say 'it can't be helped', I will end you."
Hashirama laughed sheepishly, but before Tobirama could scold him further, was pushed to stand in front of Madara's seat. The Senju albino, as if realizing something was amiss, knelt on one knee and raised a hand to Madara's forehead.
"You're burning up," Tobirama deadpanned.
He clicked his tongue in annoyance at being found out but remained stubborn in his need to not air his weakness for all to see. "It's the alcohol."
Tobirama outwardly agreed to his words, but his eyes conveyed his dubiety. "I see. Then I'm sure you can sober up at mine."
Without letting him get the word in, the rest of the group agreed on his behalf and Madara was shooed away. Rather than insist on staying, he obediently left the plaza and walked alongside his friend. He was finding an excuse to leave, anyway.
The streets they threaded on appeared deserted since the entire clan was out drinking and not a single house had their lights switched on. Only the moonlight lit their path, and after all that noise pollution, it was nice to wind down to some tranquillity.
"Inform Itama of my departure," Madara stated after a while, half-lidded eyes focused solely on the reddish moon above them. It reminded him of his mission… as well as his resolve to find ways to fix the Zetsu infestation on his lawn ASAP. "And convey my good wishes to the newlyweds."
"You can do that in person. Tomorrow."
Madara turned away from the moon to look at Tobirama. The latter was expressionless, and so was he.
"I have much to do, Tobirama. So much."
"And they can be done, tomorrow. One night, Madara. Just tonight, won't you allow yourself some respite? I promise to not leave your side while you rest; for your peace of mind... and mine."
Madara's red-painted lips part to refuse, but when Tobirama gently brushed the pad of his thumb against the underneath of his left eye, his resolve crumbled. The hand remained a steady presence on his cheek, cool against his heated skin, and he could not help but lean into the touch, eyelids fluttering shut.
His features must have truly been laden with exhaustion if even Tobirama was insistent that he rest.
"One night," he finally agreed, reluctantly.
"One night," was repeated back to him in assurance.