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 new 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?
All in all, the day passed way too soon for Madara's liking, as far as Tobirama could tell, despite it having passed in relative peace and ending with a successful meeting with that insurance agent Madara kept talking about. Tobirama is still not entirely sure how insurance works altogether, but he did know that Madara was very pleased with the end result. Apparently, he can get the money within the next week, which will potentially save him - and Tobirama by default - from having to celebrate the coming of a New Year in the presence of his overbearing family. Tobirama still found it so incredibly odd that Uchiha Madara, no matter what version of the man it might be, could be so unwilling to stay in the circle of his own family when all he knew of the original Madara was that family defined him.
(Once upon a time, Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara shared a dream of peace. Only one of them never realized that their counterpart's true motivation and the center of his dream was keeping his family and clan safe, not widespread peace and contentment. Tobirama had once taught him incredibly selfish for caring for a handful over a majority but with time he understood. Love motivated the Uchiha and none had loved as strongly and lost as much as Madara had.)
Still, as strange as hearing the teen complain was given his own former experiences with this soul, Tobirama could understand why Madara was so reluctant to be in their presence. None of them except the boy's mother even cared for him. They were actually mostly actively aggressive and antagonistic towards him. Madara was incredibly strong to hold up under it as well as he did, all these years. He had run, in the end, but he was still unwilling to hurt his family, his blood.
(It made Tobirama wonder what had changed for Madara to attack Konoha after two years of absence. This was a far more personal betrayal and yet Madara sought no revenge. Something must have gotten to him while he was away.)
So they weren't in a hurry to return to the Utaha household until it was absolutely necessary. Sakura-san greeted them with a smile and an understanding glint in her dark eyes that had Tobirama's heart clenching painfully as he thought about how much the separation must hurt the mother. It must at time feel like her child has been lost to her forever despite Madara having said he made sure to see her from time to time. 'She must feel like a failure,' Tobirama mused as she all but thrust upon them the dinner she had made for the two of them that they can eat in Madara's room. 'To have her own child avoid being home.' His own mother would have been whimpering in sorrow and snarling in rage, especially if it had been Tobirama who had felt unwelcome and unsafe in his own home. Senju Kira, born Hatake, had been as close with Tobirama, who took after her in all things and not just looks, as Utaha Sakura seemed to be with Madara. Tobirama certainly didn't see any of Madara's 'siblings' going out of their way to interact with their mother. He found it strange but not his place to question.
They ate with light chatter between them and feeding bits to Kurama - Tobirama kept to his promise to try to be nice to the demonic fox oh so innocently doing its best to steal all of Madara's attention for himself, but it wasn't easy - until they had about half an hour to get ready. Unfortunately, when it came to finding an outfit for Tobirama, they came upon a bit of a bump in the road. Madara apparently had a full closet of rather expensive looking things to wear and he easily chose for himself some black pants and a red button up shirt that he left open to show off the black tight shirt he had underneath. He matched it with black sneakers and that was that. But then he looked at Tobirama and remembered they had never finished their little shopping trip and so while he stood there looking ridiculously Uchiha gorgeous - they might have been his enemies in the past but Tobirama was not blind; Madara was the perfect example of the incredible genes that circulated within the Uchiha Clan and a specimen of prime beauty the Senju had always half-jokingly dreaded the Uchiha might one day attempt to weaponize - Tobirama literally had nothing more to his wardrobe than his black pants and shirt that he regularly wore under his armor. Madars gave him a thoroughly scrutinizing look before giving an agreeing grunt.
"That'll do. I can work with that."
The Senju was left watching in bewilderment as Madara turned around and started viciously rummaging through his closet, cursing and muttering under his breath something about 'Damn idiot Senju, built like a tree,' and generally expressing his displeasure at the fact that he could not find what he was looking for. Tobirama found himself dodging random articles of clothing that Madara threw out of his way and over his shoulder, impressed how good his general aim was. He spent only a few seconds deliberating whether Madara had somehow awakened his sensory abilities before the teen crowed in triumph and whirled back around, holing up a very nice, dark blue vest that he promptly wrestled a startled Tobirama in. Before the ninja could ask any questions, Madara dropped into a crouch and casually took a kunai out of his thigh holster before unclipping the thing and throwing it on his bed once again without looking.
"What are you-?"
He got cut off before he could even ask his question by the sound of the bandages he wore around his shins being carefully but swiftly snipped under the sharp edge of the kunai that Madara seemed to be wielding like a life-long trained shinobi. Without the bandages hugging the ends of his pant legs to his shins, the true length and width of the pants finally showed and explained why shinobi wore bandages in the first place. There was too much loose fabric that can easily get caught on a branch, catch fire or generally get in the way and possibly cause a really stupid and extremely preventable death.
Madara drew back and inspected his work, nodding at what he saw. "Yes, just as I thought. This will work very nicely. Now put this on."
Tobirama actually grunted when Madara all but slammed the blue vest he had found in his closet earlier into his chest, glaring at the teen. Madara glared right back, an eyebrow arched in challenge. Realizing there will be only more Uchiha levels of drama to come if he tries fighting him on this, he complied and Madara gave a pleased sound. Tobirama had to admit, though. He looked good.
"We'll just grab some of tou-san's shoes on the way out and you're set to go."
"In time, too," Sakura-san says as she enters the room, giving them both a appraising look. "Oh my, my. There are going to be a lot of broken hearts at the club tonight. You two look so handsome." Madara let out some protests while Tobirama just shrugged. "Asama arrived and everyone's pretty much ready, so you two should come out now. I can take care of Kurama-kun tonight if you want, but don't stay out too late. You know what tomorrow is and we'll have to sneak out at the break of dawn to avoid everyone."
"I know. We won't," Madara reassured her before all but dragging Tobirama out. The white haired man arched an inquisitive eyebrow at Sakura-san but she just smiled and put both of her hands up, one showing two fingers, the other four and Tobirama wanted to curse himself for forgetting the date. He didn't get much time to dwell on it before he had shoes shoved into his hands at the front doors and he finally got to see their little 'clubbing' group. He saw that most of them were dressed in a similar fashion to what he and Madara were wearing, although Asama had on a pair of sunglasses. What he'll need those at night in a supposedly dark place, the shinobi could not fathom and quite frankly didn't care.
"Okay, gather together! You all look so cute, this demands a commemorative picture!" Sakura-san said with a big smile and her phone in her hand. Tobirama of course made sure he stood next to Madara but Miyako planted herself on his other side, leaning against him in a way that made him want to reach out and snap her neck - something that anyone normal and from his time would understand and feel as he was radiating killing intent - and Asama grabbed Madara in a headlock from the teen's other side with Mio sidling up to the cousin. Kiachi somehow ended up being the least annoying of Madara's relatives at the moment but at least taking the picture didn't take all that long. "Have fun!" The mother called after them when their ride arrived, some friend of Asama's who had a car big enough for them and three other people other than the driver to fit. They were all squashed together but Tobirama had claimed a window seat and had planted Madara in between himself and Mio, thus ensuring Asama can't further antagonize his friend before the night even started.
Thankfully, the ride was relatively short, though Tobirama paid more attention to the way they were going than any conversation going on in the car. He was aware the new people were trying to get his attention to ask him things, but he didn't even know the genders of the new people, nor did he care. He was focused on remembering the way back to Madara's parents' house as he had a feeling he might wish to drag Madara home early if the entire night will be, as the Nara would say, as bothersome as the car ride was.
When they all finally got out of the vehicle, Asama led them into the building emitting some really loud music and Tobirama already felt dread. "I'm going to get a headache from this, aren't I?" He rhetorically asked Madara even as he tried to dull the awareness of his hearing to a minimum less he seriously cause himself a migraine.
"Let's just stay for an hour and go back. I have no love lost for clubbing," Madara said and they already had to speak louder than normal. By the time they were in, Tobirama knew they would have to yell in each other's ear to be heard over the music. The place was loud, flashy, dark and far too hot. The smell of mingling human bodies, bodily perspiration and unfortunately other liquids, alcohol and tobacco smoke all assaulted his nose and Tobirama kind of wanted to curse his Hatake side. None of his other brothers ever got the full extent of their mother's clan's characteristics, not even Tobirama himself, fully, but he definitely leaned more towards Hatake in many aspects than he did Senju. The heightened sense of smell and hearing were, unfortunately, part of the package.
The beat of the music was loud. Infectious, though Tobirama himself felt no need to move to it. That didn't stop Madara. The fire pounding in his blood was probably matching the beat and the stuffy heat of the place was probably not helping matters. Madara looked more relaxed than he has all night and they had been here for only a couple of minutes.
Asama dragged them over towards the bar and said he'd treat them a round of drinks. Tobirama went for wine, as they didn't have sake, but Madara was the only one who took a nonalcoholic drink despite Kiachi, not even a full year older than him, and Miyako, who was twenty only for a few months, gladly sipping whiskey and some fruity cocktail whose name was a waste of brain space to remember. Mio had taken a gin tonic and Asama was waving around something strong smelling he'd called tequila. The cousin in question smirked and toasted to his family and friends, who all took a beer, eyes somehow forever glued to Madara, who looked rather bored with his family already. (Still weird, no matter how understandable.)
"To the return of Madara, our beloved younger cousin slash brother, into the fold!" The toast was about as genuine as the 'beloved' part or any smile Asama had sent Madara's way in the time Tobirama had known him. Madara seemed resigned to his antics - in a fashion Tobirama had often seen the Uchiha resigned at Hashirama's latest bout of depression after a silly recommendation had been shot down but somehow lacking all the warmth and affection behind it - so he just let it happen and sipped on his drink.
Thankfully, the group dispersed not moments later, as Miyako dragged off Mio to go 'freshen up her make-up' in the bathroom despite having put it on only half an hour ago and Asama and one of his friends disappeared in the crowd. Kiachi found himself a table to sit at and seemed to be scanning over the females in the crowd much like a predator. Tobirama, who had always been more about practicability than bodily needs and urges, didn't understand the appeal in meaningless sex. He did it every once in a while when the urge becomes distracting but he viewed it as the occasional necessary need to release tension which training cannot dispel.
A tug on his vest has him looking back to his roommate, to find Madara pointing to a part of the dance floor where the crowd isn't as dense and is in direct line of sight of where Tobirama had decided to just lean against the bar and sip his drink as he lets the time go by until Madara decides they can go. "I'm going to dance a bit. Feel free to join me if you wish. Until then, please mind my drink?"
"Go ahead," Tobirama replies over the music, not remembering the last time he had used such a loud volume to speak to someone, but it was required. Madara grinned and seemed to all but run off to the spot he had decided for himself eagerly as soon as he put his drink down next to Tobirama's and the Senju would be lying if he said he wasn't a bit ... captivated when the teen started moving. He'd always wondered, with Madara's near catchphrase when referring to battle being 'Let's dance', how the fierce Uchiha actually looked like when he really danced. People tend to say graceful as water or fast like the wind but there is a reason why fire dances.
Madara, in his mind, had always been fire.
The way the Uchiha moved so perfectly with the beat should be illegal. This Madara was slighter, shorter and had not half of his counterpart's muscle mass, but he still moved like Madara. His clothing was just tight enough to hint at the way all of those muscles shifted as he moved his body to the beat, all sensual grace and near hypnotic movements. The faster the pace, the more excited Madara seemed to get. Tobirama couldn't take his eyes away from him and he knew he had a serious problem. Yet he couldn't bring himself to care. The problem could wait for the him of tomorrow or the day after that to deal with.
Madara was perhaps far too enticing for his own good, especially once he apparently got hot enough to remove his crimson button up shirt and it left him only in the tight black one he was wearing under it that showed all of his still leath muscles, and it's quite possible that the teen didn't even realize it. Tobirama found himself completely enchanted. He couldn't look away and he found all of his senses tuning in on Madara. He had no idea how much time passed, only that it's been far longer than the agreed hour and he realized he didn't mind one bit. As long as he could watch the Uchiha and bask in his heat, Tobirama was content to sip a second glass of wine that he shamelessly charged on Asama's account.
When Madara finally made it off of the dance floor, despite breathing a bit harder he wasn't even flushed or sweating from exertion and was instead beaming as he casually took his drink and swung it back, in desperate need of hydration. "You sure you don't want to join in?"
"Dancing's really not my thing and I'd look ridiculous next to you." Well, the Uchiha definitely flushed now. "But you go ahead, have fun as long as you like. I've never seen you this satisfied before."
"Dancing is something I can do when I can't fight in the dojo to release stress," Madara said absently as he glanced around and then at his phone, cursing when he saw the time. "Oh, shit. Sorry. I guess I lost track of time. We can go now if you want."
Tobirama just smirked in amusement and shook his head. "And end the show so soon?" Maybe he should reevaluate his sanity if making the man he had once feared more than the Shinigami blush so brilliantly was so pleasing to him now. If Madara ever got all of his old memories back - and with it, the whole of his personality and possibly the hate he had felt for Tobirama because of Izuna's death at his hands - he will not be pleased in the least. Tobirama was flirting with death. 'Actually, if I'm not mistaken, I think I am flirting with Madara.' Which was even more commendable and infinitely more foolish. He shook his head once more and chuckled. "We can stay a while longer. As long as no one bothers me, I don't mind."
Thankfully, all of Madara's relatives seemed to be busy elsewhere, so that solved half of their problems. The teen himself looked hesitant until Tobirama shooed him away and then he was all too eager to go back to the wild music and the release it gave him, pausing only long enough to tie his hair up in a high ponytail that looked unfairly too attractive and hypnotic as it swayed behind him with the beat of the music and the rhythm of his own dancing. He guessed it made sense Madara loved dancing so much. Under the veil of darkness, with only occasional, muted lights and the smokescreen created by the dry ice, with music drowning out the world, all Madara had to do was close his eyes and pretend there was no one else there. He, of course, still had no idea if Madara was starting to get his old sensory abilities back but it would seem the teen liked to pretend and get lost in the beat of the music.
However, not ten minutes later, Tobirama's own senses picked up a change in Madara's chakra that just wasn't right. He wasn't sure what it was but it felt like Madara had suddenly lost control over the inferno he was born with. It didn't take long at all for the club to start heating up, quite literally. The people didn't seem to realize it was not a part of the show and instead welcomed the heady heat, starting to grind rather suggestively. If he were completely honest, Tobirama was not so sure that he had stormed onto the crowded dance floor more because he realized Madara was overheating and burning out or because he saw some random man almost twice the teen's age grab a hold of Madara's hips from behind and started grinding into his ass. The fool soon found himself unconscious on the floor while the Senju was trying to drag his friend out of the mass of people.
Madara, though, was beaming at him with pleasure and seemed to have other ideas, tugging Tobirama around until he found a position he liked and started trying to get the shinobi to dance along. There was no stopping him and the more Tobirama struggled, the more intertwined they became. He stopped when he found arms wrapped around his neck and his hands hovering over tantalizing hips, Madara's face mere inches from his own, their breaths mingling. A distant part of his mind noted that the Uchiha must be standing on his tip toes for them to be even remotely level. A fully grown Madara had been shorter than him by two centimeters. A teenage Madara was shorter still, by four instead of two, so tippy toes it was. Which was unfairly cute. Past-life megalomaniacs shouldn't be allowed to be cute.
But Madara was smiling at him, gentle and small, Sharingan eyes intent and focused on his face and Tobirama felt his breath hitch in his throat. He didn't even realize when they slowed down, as though dancing to their own song that was dozens of times slower than what was blaring through the club speakers, just enjoying the mingling of their breaths and the feel of Madara's hips in his hands - when had that happened?! - the younger leaning on him more and more, eyes glazed-
Tobirama cursed when the teen suddenly went completely limp in his arms and cursed himself again for forgetting the reason he had come after him in the first place. He steadied the Uchiha in his hold and carefully dragged him over to the bar, snapping at the bar tender to give him a glass of cold water. More curses fell from his mouth, each more foul than the next when water did nothing to wake his friend and a cursory medical scan revealed that there was a foreign substance in Madara's blood stream that was affecting him in most dangerous of ways. It had completely removed all inhibitions and with it any instinctual chakra control the other had been born with. Madara already normally ran hotter than a normal person because of his immense reserves of fire natured chakra. But even this was too much. He was indeed burning out.
Tobirama had a good idea as to what had happened and he cursed once more, hauling Madara into his arms and all but running out of the club. What he needed right now was to secure Madara's continued health.
He'll deal with Utaha Asama later.