Time Heals All Wounds
Summary: The day Tobirama died happens earlier, during Hashirama's time as Hokage when they are at war with almost every mew village but years after Madara's death. Only he didn't die. He somehow ended up in a time not his own and met a familiar face he though gone forever. Can he get back? And what of his new friend?
Madara was not responsible for what was happening to him, the Senju out of time mused as he once again waited for the final bell to ring so he can pick up Madara from school and perhaps entice the teen out of his books to enjoy the pleasant weather as winter slowly rolled into Tokyo. It's been well over a month since he first arrived here and he knew his way around these parts fairly well at this point, but there was still so much to explore and Tobirama had found fliers proclaiming a end of fall festival was in town. He figured that was the best way to get Madara to relax a bit before his midterm finals or whatever his tests were called before the teen actually manages to do what Hashirama had always accused him of trying to achieve: melt his brain from all the studying he was doing.
Not that it was possible, either way, but Madara was seriously stressing over his grades and Tobirama wanted to do something nice for his young friend before he actually flunks a test from over-exhaustion. The last thing the Uchiha could possibly want was to fall asleep right in the middle of a test. No one would wake him up because Tobirama has learned by now that the entire damn school 'hates his guts', as though any of those green little brats knows the true meaning of hate.
Either way, Tobirama refused to give them the satisfaction.
Which meant Madara needed to take a break.
Which meant it was up to Tobirama work-until-I-drop and soon to be hypocrite Senju to make sure he gets one.
Suddenly, he appreciated all of Hashirama's and Touka's patience and exasperation a whole lot more.
He looked up when the bell finally rang and the students started pouring out, some still stopping and gawking at him as though he wasn't already a regular figure here, in this exact same spot, at the same time of day each school day, for the past month and a few weeks. He ignored them and searched, eyes and senses, for the familiar spiky hair and burning chakra signature even as he contemplated what he knew so far about his own situation here and the conditions that might have lead to it.
He had remembered everything that happened, eventually, though it had taken a good two weeks before it all made sense. He had indeed had a concussion but it would seem it had been a mild one and he had had no more adverse side-effects, something for which he was extremely grateful for.
Still, even now that he remembered, it made no more sense than it had while he still could't recall how he had passed out. Hiraishin, while it was called a space-time jutsu, was still more akin to a summoning seal than anything else. He had done all sorts of testing on it and he had never found anything that indicated it could be used for time travel of all things. Though he guessed there was an untapped potential for it in itself. Maybe he had just lacked the necessary chakra reserves to activate that part of it until two biju-powered individuals struck him at the same time as he was using the jutsu and all that additional chakra overloaded it. All of this required more research but he wasn't sure if he had the means for it in this time so he'll have to speculate more than anything else for a while. Even with all of his chakra back to its normal levels, he figured he should probably wait a little while more before he started experimenting.
Because if his theory proves true, there was only one way to send him home and that was if he manages to get Madara to give him the extra boost he needs.
The potential problem with that was, unfortunately, possibly triggering whatever memories were left over from the teens previous life and potentially unleashing all of Madara's fury on this unsuspecting world.
And it indeed was a world, in a different time, and not a genjutsu of Madara's creation.
Tobirama became certain of that when he realized Madara's family was still alive and he lived alone and when it occurred to him that no Uchiha Izuna, the only one of Madara's younger brothers that he had met because he had been the last one to survive, or Uchiha Tajima existed in this world. There was no way Madara would create a whole new world with no Izuna, at the very least, in it. That was the root and source of most of Madara's pain, after all, the grief that eventually tore him apart from the inside and shattered him beyond help. Tobirama had been the one to deal the final blow and if this was indeed Madara's creation that he had somehow ended up in, he doubted that the Uchiha would treat him this kindly.
Still, that left the question of how Madara was here to begin with. If nothing else, the man was reincarnated, but that still left the question how many, if any, of his old memories he could regain if the right triggers were pushed. Tobirama had a second chance to actually get to know the man behind the anger and the grief. And Madara had the chance to live in a world where he won't feel either.
He was understandably hesitant to ruin it all without first being sure that teaching Madara how to mold chakra was absolutely necessary. For now, he was more than content to research his own notes on Hiraishin and theorize as well as calculate pros and cons as to returning home at the cost of this peace Madara has found in a whole different life.
He felt the exact same second that Madara saw him and focused his attention on him as the teen exited the building and he looked up, being greeted by that incredulous smile like every day since he had started this habit, as though Madara still couldn't believe someone had bothered to come keep him company on his way home. In the morning, Tobirama stayed at the house, sometimes doing the chores for his host and other times doing his own research, be it on what could have caused the Hiraishin to act this way or the new things this brand new world had in store. But every afternoon, on the dot, Tobirama would be waiting across the street from the gates to walk Madara home. It proved extremely useful and absolutely necessary as it seems it finally dawned on people that no one had any idea where the Uchiha lived and more and more random people trailed them on the way back.
Tobirama may or may not have been showing off for the teen as he got more and more inventive in ways how to keep the boy's home a secret location and he may or may not have been enjoying the amazed and stunned reactions he got as a result, relishing Madara's delight at feats he would usually be able to do in his sleep just as well.
It may or may not have been an ego boost.
As every day, Madara ignored every one of his fellow students and walked right over to Tobirama, though the fact that he was tired was written in every line of his face and pretty much the way he moved. He put on a good show to fool his classmates but Tobirama was a trained shinobi and it was his job to see the underneath beneath the underneath or however that old proverb went. And it's not like Madara even tried to fake it with him once they were away from prying eyes. He'd just allow his proud shoulders to slump and he'd let Tobirama rearrange him however the albino pleased as he scolded him about taking better care of himself.
Thankfully, today was one of the last exam days and if he remembered correctly, his young companion had only one more test to do before he could relax again. The perfect time to get him to take a few hours break and an early night so he can ace his last test and finally get rid of all of that stress for another two months.
"This isn't the way home," Madara noted after only five minutes of walking when Tobirama took a wrong turn for their usual destination. "And it's the opposite way from the market, too."
"I know," he reassured, smirking at how much more pliant the fiery teen was when tired. They've yet to reach the amount of comfort and familiarity for Madara's true fiery temperament to show but he knew it was only a matter of time before they started bickering over every small thing like they had always done in days long since passed. Still, he didn't doubt that Madara's flair for the dramatics and his temperament will soon make their reappearance. He was an Uchiha. Their passion and their emotions is what defines them. "I thought we could visit the festival in town. You could use a break and I want to see how much different things are from how we've done them."
"Oh. Yes, that does sound nice, actually, but only a couple of hours, okay? I still need to study."
The ninja snorted. "Madara, I've asked you a thousand different questions on the subject since you mentioned a chemistry test and you've yet to answer anything wrong and that was even before you started studying. Trust me, you'll be just fine. You have a really remarkable memory."
The black haired teen hummed, sounding both doubtful and really far too tired to argue a valid point. "My parents took me for testing, a long time ago. The psychologist had a really hard time discerning if I have edict or photographic memory or if I was just really smart. We never did get the answer to that question, though. Doesn't mean I can slack off. Good memory means nothing if I don't utilize it. I have to feed mt brain with knowledge for it to store it away no matter what kind of memory I have."
" ... You really ought to act more like a kid while you still can," was all Tobirama ended up saying and ignored all of Madara's protests that he wasn't a kid. "One day, when you're all grown up and the hardships of the world slap you in the face, you'll long for those missed moments and wonder why you hadn't appreciated them more or why you had been in such a rush to grow up. You only get one chance at life, only one childhood. Don't waste it."
Black eyes moved up to meet his own and Tobirama's breath hitched when he saw a hint of the wear the world leaves on a person after a harsh life, a hint of the old Madara who had bared it all for his siblings, his clan and Konoha only to be turned away from them all no matter how hard he tried. His heart in his throat, he had no reply to Madara's answer. "I've lost my childhood a long time ago. The day your own parents see you as nothing more than a means to an end is the day you are no longer a child but a tool."
That resonated within his very soul, for he knew the feeling. For Butsuma, his four sons had never been anything more than little soldiers, tools in a war the reason behind of which has long since been forgotten to time. Two sons had died as tools, two had lived to be nothing more. Hashirama had his rebellious moments but he was still a weapon that killed Uchiha, even if he mostly concentrated on Madara and trying to get him to accept a peace treaty. Tobirama had done his best, once the village was formed, to ensure that children get not only the chance to learn how to be shinobi but to also enjoy their childhood once the Academy was built. He tried to give them a chance to have friends and play instead of being simple little soldiers. If one thing was good about Konoha, it was that no child younger than twelve can leave on missions, no matter how many older, fully trained ninja might go with them.
At least they lived longer, he thought bitterly before chasing the thoughts away and changing the subject with Madara. He hadn't led Madara away from his books to reminiscent about unpleasant memories on either of their sides when there was a perfectly cheerful festival just a few streets away. He was pleased to see that the closer they got to all the commotion that Madara got a bit more excited before the teen all but dragged him over to the stall that seemed to rent out traditional garb to make everyone feel more in tune with the celebrations.
Tobirama had always liked the feel of his armor the best but being in something other than his shinobi getup was also a relief as he slid into clothing that almost felt familiar, in style if in nothing else. A deep blue yukata with wave deigns and a red sash deed the job for him. His companion, though, seems to have caught the eye of the vendor's wife and she had dragged a protesting Madara off to find him a kimono and get his hair in the perfect hairdo to go with it. The Senju had to commend her, though, as when Madara returned, he could very well fit perfectly in on the Daimyo's court with his midnight blue kimono that seemed to have actual stars on it as a part of the design and a full moon on his back, a snow white obi around his waist and his hair done up in a single tight bun with decorative hair pins on the sides of his head and needles protruding from the base of his bun with red rubies of all things dangling enticingly. The couple showed festive fans in their hands and insisted on a dozen or so 'photographs' that Madara mumbled about no doubt being abused as advertisement material but he seemed more embarrassed than upset.
The shinobi just found the whole experience entertaining.
"So, what should we do first?" Madara asked once they were free to go, looking around at all the games and attractions that had been set up. He already seemed much more relaxed and for that Tobirama was grateful and very pleased. His plan seemed to be working. He shrugged to the question, though, and also looked around at the options.
"I suggest we get something to eat and go from there."
Once they had agreed on a course of action, their first stop was, surprise surprise, an inarizushi stand. The white haired man watched in exasperation as Madara stuffed his mouth with his favorite dish, amused despite himself. He'll never be fond of fried dishes but at least he found some roasted fish on sticks just a few stalls down the way they had started down so they both got the snack they preferred. From then on, they enjoyed a couple of the traditional games and Tobirama grew in both popularity and distaste - by the vendors - when his ninja skills allowed him to win even the obviously set up ones, which is how he nearly got stuck with a five year old little girl glued to his legs when he caught her a little turtle at one of the stands, much to Madara's obvious amusement. The Senju couldn't even complain or snap at him for laughing his head off. He was perfectly aware of how big of a soft spot he had for children.
When they came across something labeled as 'Haunted House of Traditional Ghosts', Madara scoffed and tried to lead him away, saying he didn't want to waste any time on something like that. Tobirama would have agreed if he didn't catch sight of Kiachi and a younger boy who bore a great resemblance to him trying to be sneaky as they followed them around. He had known there was someone there, of course, but these boys were persistent and were growing to be rather annoying. He still wasn't sure as to what sort of relationship Madara had with his siblings beyond the fact that they seemed to dislike him, but the stalking was becoming seriously bothersome, to borrow the Nara term.
"Come on. It might be interesting," he suggested and proceeded to drag the indignant Madara behind him, enjoying how the Uchiha made protests but didn't try to pull away.
It actually did turn out to be fun, for him at least. Madara seemed bored out of his mind, the 'ghost' not getting the slightest reaction out of him no matter how surprising, loud or sudden their appearance before or behind them might be, be they dolls or humans in masks. Tobirama didn't react on the mere fact of sensor principle, as he could feel the exact shift in the chakra around him and so wasn't surprised by jumping out dolls or people. He wondered if a part of the old Madara that lived on in his companion could unconsciously feel the same and if that was the reason for his calm or if the boy was simply unflappable. Madara used to be, most of the time, unless Hashirama said or did something stupid, back when he could still bare the burden of an entire village's distrust and dislike. Either way, neither of them got scared and it would indeed have been a waste of time if he did not hear Kiachi's screams of terror and feel his and his companion's fright at every stop through their chakra.
Hashirama had always said he had a weird sense of entertainment.
Madara seemed to think so, too, though once they exited the haunted house, he refused to budge an inch when he tried to lead him away so they could be lost in the crowd, instead standing with his arms crossed and a familiar braced stance as he waited for his brothers to come out as well. For a second, Tobirama felt like they were back in Konoha, or perhaps even before that, on the Uchiha-Senju battlefield, bracing for attack, only this time he inched closer to his ancient enemy as though to be a shield between Madara and two completely harmless boys. He couldn't help the instinct to protect the teen. He was only a year or so older than his own students back in Konoha. Madara was still a child, even by shinobi standards by the sheer fact that he had not taken a single life.
The urge to protect him was insistent and he didn't fight it. These were some of the people that had made his host - and maybe friend - feel the need to flee his own home and it was a bit too much like how Uchiha Madara had been treated for Tobirama's liking to let these boys bother 'Utaha' Madara, especially when he was trying to get the teen to relax a little.
When the two boys appeared out of the haunted house, they were pale and shaken and clinging on to each other in a way not even Tobirama's younger brothers had in the last days of their lives no matter how scary a situation might be. It brought into stark relief just how different these times were that children didn't have anything more to fear than silly, ugly masks and loud noises. They stiffened when they saw their brother standing in such a passive aggressive manner and there was a brief stare-down even as everyone else around them went about their own business, laughing without even noticing the rising tension. Tobirama, though, felt his back stiffen when the churning of Madara's chakra changed, definitely more confrontational than he had ever seen or felt the boy. It would seem the infamous Uchiha temper was finally about to break through at last and he had front row seats for the spectacle.
"Kiachi, Shotaro," Madara greeted in a surprisingly cold voice and said boys ad to fight back a flinch, but the ninja still saw it.
He could only hope nothing ends up being set on fire.