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," Kiachi eventually greets him back, mouth all but spitting out his name and said teen rubs his forehead as he feels an oncoming headache.
"Mind explaining to me why you have been playing stalker for the past few weeks? And why you've decided to drag our younger brother into it today?"
"You're not our brother," Shotaro, always short tempered and uncaring towards how his words affect other people, sniffed in distaste in his direction and Madara tried not to stiffen. Yes, he knows his siblings haven't been considering him as their brother since he left their parents' house but no one had said it to his face yet. Until now, that is.
"If that is the case, then you have no business following him around." Tobirama, as intimidating as he always was when he was forced in any way to observe how Madara's peers treated him, scowled and scolded Shotar and Kiachi. Shotaro flinched but the elder boy put on a brave face, squaring his shoulders as if to make himself seem more impressive.
"This is family business, so we would appreciate it if you didn't stick your nose where it doesn't belong."
Madara wanted to snap at his elder brother for such a lack of manners and respect towards his elders but Tobirama beat him to it. "Very well, then. I will let you deal with your family business." Just as Kiachi started preening and puffing up for standing up to the fairly scary white haired man the entire school was speculating about regarding who and what he was to Madara, Tobirama grabbed Madara's shoulder and turned him around, leading him away. "Come, Madara. We came here to enjoy ourselves, not entertain entitled, spoiled brats." Madara made to protest but as soon as they were lost in the crowd, Tobirama used that flashy technique of his to transport them elsewhere. They were still at the festival, but were now on the completely opposite side of it where there were some carnival rides set up.
Seeing there was no point still focusing on his brothers, the black haired male relaxed and gave his housemate a smile. "Thank you. I really hate fighting with them."
His companion answered with a nod though there was a worrisome frown on his face. "Why did the younger boy insist you're not their brother, though? I mean, yes, there is little resemblance between you and them but being brothers doesn't automatically mean you'll be spitting images of each other. Anija and I are practically like night and day!"
Madara looked away, shrugging. "What is there to say? I don't know why but they all started acting like it since I was eight. My elder siblings started it and then the younger ones picked up on it as well. We never really were close but the change was still drastic. As for resemblance, no one really mentions my looks. No one in our entire family. For all that we share coloration, I don't exactly fit in."
Tobirama hummed, seeming to think about it. "Probably because you are much better looking than your siblings, if your brothers are to be judged by." When Madara squawked and gaped at him with disbelief written all over his face, the shinobi continued, as if explaining his train of thought. "You have ... much more appealing features. Strong jawline, a noble nose, full lips, elegant brow, high cheekbones and a face shape most would describe as above average in beauty. You're built along different lines, too. You might be shorter than Kiachi but you've got broader shoulders and stronger legs, more compact muscles. All in all, a better set of genetics. Don't even try to deny it. You saw they had also rented yukatas, and from the same place we had, too, judging by the label on their clothing. I don't see them getting a special makeover treatment. Though that might be because of how your complexion compliments your hair. Still, definitely a better set of genetics at work."
Madara ... just gawked. That's the most compliments he'd received in one setting in his entire life. Even when he had been a reigning champion in martial arts - though he guessed he still technically was, since he had stepped down out of his own accord and not because someone had hurt or defeated him - no one had given him as many compliments since the second tournament he'd won and even when he won his very first official fight, no one had seemed that inclined to rain compliments on him. He figured he was excused to blush and gape at his companion.
And, to his further embarrassment, Tobirama didn't even seem to be done yet. "And there's also the quality and quantity of your chakra in comparison to theirs. Your's is a raging inferno, a heat that rivals the sun, both welcoming and frightening in its potency and sheer potential of how it may be used. Those two, on the other hand, have as little chakra as everyone else and the feeling I get from it isn't nearly as pleasing, either. If I were a cat, I'd stick around you for naps like I were in front of a fireplace. From them, on the other hand, I'd probably turn away from. I swear they feel like a disease ridden swamp."
"Can we please change the subject?" The mortified with embarrassment Utaha asked desperately for fear that his face might melt from the heat he felt pooling there. He really was desperate to change the subject. If Tobirama kept complimenting hi, Madara swears his poor heart will beat its way right out of his chest. He really wasn't used to compliments. And he would rather like not to get used to them. Tobirama was still looking into how he got into the future - despite the man being a shinobi and being able to convincingly fool Madara's neighbors that he's just some random college student friend of his with an ease that would be unnerving should he not know of the man's true background, Madara has always been more perceptive than people gave him credit for. He knows Tobirama had figured out the way, if not the how, of his little time traveling incident. It was now only a matter of time - and will no doubt go further and look for any possible ways of getting back to his own time, given he has a brother, a cousin, a sister in law and six students to return to. The man was brilliant and Madara didn't doubt he'll figure it out somehow, sooner or later.
Madara does not want to get used to it because once Tobirama inevitably leaves, he'll only have Kurama again and perhaps occasionally his mother, if he decides to go see her.
He hates to admit it, but the thought of when that day comes makes his heart clench in pain.
(His eyes sting for a second, but it is not as though he might cry. The sensation is there and gone, echoing the loss he feels at the mere thought of no longer having Tobirama in his life.)
He'd gotten attached. Rather foolishly so, too. Tobirama was not someone who could stay, even if he doesn't find a way to return to his own time. Madara rather doubts it that the man would tie himself down to a moody, pathetic teenager who even his own family distastes and his fox who glares at him every opportunity it gets. If Tobirama were just to get a bit caught up with the times, he could go on and make a life and a career for himself. The man is rather curious by nature and knows a great deal about anatomy, chemistry and science in general. Not to mention that he could probably also give more insight into some of the really old texts, the meaning behind references and phrases historians squabble about daily. The Senju has many potential successful careers to look forwards to if he does end up staying.
What reason would he have to stick around ordinary Utaha Madara, potentially future falcon keeper at the local zoo?
He realizes Tobirama had indulged his request and that he had completely tuned him out only when the shinobi repeatedly calls his name and eventually pinches his arm. The reaction is almost instantaneous as he whirls around just enough to catch the offending hand and glare, pissed off, at the owner of said limb. Before he could stop himself and control his temper, he was yelling. "Ow! What the hell, Senju!? That hurt! Were you raised by wolves or something!?" And he instantly recoils as he realized how rude he was being, letting go of the man's hand and taking a step back, hands coming up as though to cover his mouth, as though that might shove the words back or undo what he had just said. "I'm so-"
"By snow leopards, actually," came the man's amused reply, smirking at the flustered teen. Tobirama seemed somehow entirely too pleased by Madara's loss of control over his temper that the boy didn't know how to react. He'd been so careful all this time-
He stops at that train of thought, startled by the realization that he had, indeed, been going out of his way to remain mostly polite and 'civilized' with his guest. He'd never acted that way even towards his own father, let alone anyone outside of his family other than perhaps his Sensei at the dojo. But even with her, he had always allowed his true self to shine through, he was just ... respectful. He had always been loud and opinionated and he'd never hesitated to be loudly opinionated or hide his reactions for anyone else's sake. He'd never been afraid to snap at whoever was annoying him and yell them into their place, no matter the size or numeration difference. Yet he'd held back with Tobirama.
Almost as though he'd been ... afraid. Or was it more intimidated? Scared? Wary, at the very least. After all, the man had all but attacked him when they had first met and left a cut on his neck made by a wicked sharp weapon. That he had healed it afterwards did not erase the fact that it had happened in the first place.
He scowled, just thinking about having acted so cowardly, even towards a highly trained assassin, disgusting him at his own weakness.
"There it is." The words, whispered with a great deal of satisfaction - and was that a bit of relief or was Madara's mind playing tricks on him? - and he looked up at Tobirama in confusion. The man indeed did seem far too satisfied to have just been yelled at in public by a teenager about ten years his junior. "It finally appeaser. The fire. For a moment there, I had really feared you'd lost it somewhere along the way, Madara."
There was a familiarity there, in the way Tobirama said his name, that hadn't come from being roommates for over a month. Right, Madara was supposedly the reincarnation of that Uchiwa - or something like that, something about fans, he was sure of that - Madara that Tobirama had first mistaken him for. And Tobirama had mentioned that the both of them had fire affinity in their chakra. Perhaps having fire chakra gives people a bit more of prickly temperament?
Either way, Madara snorts and resolves with himself that he won't act so spinelessly as of this moment. It's clear to him by now, at least, that Tobirama wouldn't hurt him. They were ... friends. And wasn't that a jarring thought? Had he ever had an actual friend before? Probably not, because of his bad temper. And he guessed it was only fitting that his first friend - Kurama as a fox not counting - would apparently find his temper pleasing. "Shut up. We're going on the Ferris wheel." He doesn't think twice about it when he imitates Tobirama's earlier actions in grabbing the man's hand and dragging him in the desired destination. He doesn't speak until it's finally their turn to get into a cart after a short wait and he's pressed against one of the windows, overseeing the lights bellow with the same fascination he had held for as a child. "Thank you." Madara doesn't bother to elaborate, instead musing over the fact that the Ferris wheel had always been one of his fascinations, especially when they pause at the top and he gets a perfect view of the fair and a part of Tokyo. The height never seems quite high enough and he isn't sure why he likes high places like that, either, why they feel safe, he just enjoys it and lets all of the meaning behind those two words to settle over them.
Thank you for your kind words.
Thank you for having my back.
Thank you for looking out for me.
Thank you for sticking by my side.
Than you for doing this for me tonight.
Thank you for being my very first friend.
Tobirama, who had been absently looking out at this new world as well, turns to regard Madara as the teen tries to see everything at once. Madara feels his gaze but can't bring himself to meet it. There is a moment of silence in the cart before Tobirama replies, voice as quiet as Madara's had been, as if afraid to break the moment. "You're welcome."
They stay half an hour more after they get off of the Ferris wheel before they head out. The couple that had rented them the traditional clothing was eagerly waiting for them, eager to hand them some copies of the very photos they'd made when they had entered the festive grounds. Madara had to admit that he and Tobirama really looked good in the pictures. He smiled softly as he later tucked it safely between his books once he'd changed. The Utaha was extremely glad that, however their whole situation turns out, he will have a memory of Tobirama to keep outside of his own head. They bid the couple a pleasant evening before walking back towards his house. The weather was nice, if a bit chilly, and Madara snuggled into the warmth of his jacket while checking on his companion. There was no way that fur pelt around his neck was enough.
"We need to buy you some clothes."
"You've said as much already," reminds the other with clear amusement and Madara snorts, unamused.
" We really need to buy you some clothes. The weather is only going to get worse."
"A shinobi is trained to not be bothered by climate change."
The black haired teen can't help but roll his eyes at that. "Sell that bullshit to someone who didn't have to haul your sorry ass after you collapsed on them from blood loss, you idiot. You're getting at least a jacket and some weather appropriate shoes if it's the last thing I damn well do on this world."
Those red eyes turn to him, deadpan. "Maybe I've spoken too soon. I think I actually liked you better when you were all polite and almost docile."
"Yeah, well, though luck. I am who I am. If you've poked the beast while sleeping, you ought to take responsibility now that you've woken it up."
They both stop in the middle of the sidewalk, eyeing each other up as though they might descend into a brawl any second now, frowns on their brows and shoulders tense. Madara couldn't help himself but snicker. It was as though they were in some wintery, Japanese version of one of those cliche Wild West movies. His amusement drew chuckles from Tobirama, even if he was still valiantly fighting them. They managed to calm down and take a few more steps back towards the home they shared before they made the mistake of looking each other in the eyes again. It was somehow enough to drop them into peals of laughter, something that seems to have surprised them both.
Madara had neither ever seen Tobirama outright laugh like this nor did he remember the last time he had laughed like this, free and careless, a sound of pure amusement. It had been ... far too long.
Not even the cold breeze that swept by them could sully the mood.
Eventually, they calmed down again and were on their way back home once more. Madara kept sneaking glances at the usually serious albino man walking by his side and couldn't corral his own lips from tugging up whenever he caught glimpse of those just slightly upwards curled lips that indicated Tobirama was still, unconsciously, smiling. It suited the man, to relax and be rid of worries. Madara had actually partially agreed to the festival outing because he had thought perhaps Tobirama might benefit from it, too. The gravity of the situation hasn't sunk in yet, so it would seem, that his whole world is gone, that everything he has ever known was no more than dust and legends. Yes, he kept on thinking there might be a way to go back but Madara worried if it somehow ended up being impossible, how that revelation combined with the realization of everything he had lost might affect his friend. At least enjoying himself every once in a while will soften the impact if it all comes crashing down.
They made their way back casually, not rushing nor looking over their shoulders to check if they were being followed for the first time since Tobirama started walking him home from school. It seemed to be an endless source of entertainment for the shinobi to escape their pursuers and show off to Madara all that he knows. And it really was quite fun to perch somewhere he would never usually dare climb on his own and watch the shocked and outraged reactions of his would-be bullies and spies when they all but disappear on them. But this was nice, too. Even better. They had a moment to themselves to just relax and continue on their way in companionable silence. Madara had a feeling it might snow one of these days. Christmas and New Years, as well as his own birthday were just around the corner, after all. That ought to be interesting with a shinobi to celebrate.
With no one following them and the two of them having chosen without words to just calmly walk home, they arrived well past the time Madara would usually go to bed when he still had studying and tests, but since they had already ate, he didn't have to waste any time in making dinner and the such. He just got ready for bed and rolled out his futon and sheets while Tobirama did the same. Madara wondered if he should get the man a futon, too, though he didn't complain about the couch. He'll have to see about that some other time. For now, he just lay down and waved over Kurama for pets since he hadn't seen his fox since this morning.
Kurama had found him, one day, a few months before he moved out of his parents' house while he had been walking around. Madara had been as surprised to see the fox as the fox had been surprised to see him. They weren't all that close to the forest for it to have wandered into the city and yet there it had been, all fiery orange with black along its ears and around its eyes which Madara swore at times looked blood red. Kurama had at first ran from him but Madara had been persistent once he'd realized the fox wasn't leaving that one part of the neighborhood he'd found it in. He'd bring it food and water but Kurama had been stubborn for weeks. Eventually, though, he had realized Madara was just as stubborn and had accepted the food. After a while, it had started following him and occasionally even allowed him to pet it. Kurama was a proud fox, so it was kind of a big deal.
Madara could never take him home with him. His father had no tolerance for animals and he'd never allow a fox of all things in the house. Besides, his siblings wouldn't be all that too kind to him, either, so Madara had built Kurama a shelter and even put in a heather in it when colder weather came.
Once he moved into his own place, though, Madara had taken Kurama into his arms and carried him home with him. Kurama never tried to leave and they had been together since. He had never needed to be housebroken and he was a lot more intelligent than scientists give animals credit for. Madara knew his furry companion was special in some way, probably not a normal fox, but he didn't care. Kurama was his.
He was just glad that the fox had accepted Tobirama so well into their little home. Sure, he obviously didn't like the Senju but he wasn't trying to scratch his eyes out or ear his lungs, so that was a step in the right direction. He didn't even glare at the man as much as he used to! He was settling down and Madara hoped one day the two would be on agreeable terms. They were all stuck together, after all, even if it will be only temporary in the end.
Tobirama came back into the living room/bedroom before he can wander further down such a depressing road of thoughts, which the teenager was grateful for. There was no need to ruin the good mood the night had brought them with useless worrying and mourning something that is not yet gone.
There was still time for them.