He was maddening till the very end. It could have been any time during his more than half a millennium of existence, but it had to be during one of the harshest winters Tobirama has ever seen. He rode for three nights, three cold, wet, muddy, disgusting nights, just for this. To see his sire's husk of a body being enveloped by fine bedding and the smell of death. Rotten but sweet. His eyes were swimming in blindness, darting everywhere and nowhere, he hasn't recognised Tobirama yet. He wouldn't be this calm otherwise. His face was almost serene, death was never something he feared.
"Sire, Tobirama has arrived." Hasirama had announced. It was nothing but a low whisper, so unlike human conversation, but filled the room like no other. Just as it fell apart.
The convulsions arrived first, hands trembling, muscles spasming, jaw clenching. He was sure, his father wanted to say something, he opened, closed, and opened his mouth. No coherent word exited, but saliva. Sad, sad but mostly just distasteful. Tobirama was already ready to take his leave.
"Good evening, my lord." He whispered, confirming his presence. His sire's wet, trembling eyes focused on him, trying to find his, but it was without success. Tobirama failed to feel anything but contempt. "I wish you a painless departure to the never-ending woods, I hope the blood will flow endlessly, your tongue will never dry up and your teeth never break." It was monotone, standard, too formal for it to be between a father and son. However, it was still more than what he would have been willing to give. If it were on him, he wouldn't have even bothered with sending a letter. But lucky him, his father seemed much more distraught.
He could not see, he could not speak, his blood must be as thick as the mud on Tobirama's boots, but he was no less spiteful than he ever was. He shrieked. It was guttural and deafening.
Tobirama really did travel three nights for this; for an overgrown babe to have its last fit. His life really was a joke. He turned on his heel, and left, storming through the manor. Two corridors away he could still hear his father screaming like he was being flayed alive, and Hasirama's steps banging behind him.
"Tobirama, he was so glad to see you, he got speechless!" He could hear it in Hasirama's words that he was smiling.
"I hope you choke the next time you eat." He said turning around to stare his brother down. He was grinning, ear to ear. Maybe he should be concerned about how much Hasirama was enjoying the fact that their father was dying, dying in a deeply disgraceful way at that. But how could he blame him? He did have to live with Batsuma his entire life. As the heir he didn't really have the chance to run, to run like he did.
"I too love you." Hasirama said as he finally caught up with him and threw his arm around Tobirama's shoulder. Tobirama should really look into how Hasirama picked up such human mannerisms, while nearly never meeting them outside the feeding chambers. He enjoyed it non the less. It has been a while since he saw him, touched him. He was just as warm as he remembered, so different from the frigidness of the manor.
"I missed you." He whispered it into the darkness, into the hug that he found himself trapped in. As his confession came to be, the screaming stopped, as if it never existed.
His nose filled with the stench of blood.