Perspective Is Everything

Hashirama was happy for his friend, truly.

After months spent alone in both his childhood home and the new one they had both worked so hard to build…week after week of having to live on without his little brother by his side…day after day of increasingly heavy weights being set upon his shoulder by the village that was their dream…

It was beyond time for him to claim a victory from the unforgiving clutches of life.

He deserved to have something of the little brother which had been so cruelly ripped away from him.

He deserved to be able to bring his dear nephew into the village and wrap him in as many layers of silky protection as the boy would allow.

He deserved to have another by his side which adored him so very much. One which refused to so much as leave the room he stood in unless the most severe of circumstances occurred.

Yet still, Hashirama couldn’t help but lament, such facts did not help the dull pain in his heart each time he found himself shot down again and again by the child. The little one’s warranted enough fear of both he and Tobirama all but skewering his chest with each flinch or weary half-hidden gaze…

Even if he didn’t have it half as bad as Tobirama, who the boy refused to so much as stand in the same room as unless Madara was acting as a human shield.

Still, though! He would continue to try. With enough time, he was sure he could bypass the wall the boy seemed so determined to place between them. If he could do it with the diplomats, civilians, and shinobi alike of all the other clans, surly he could manage here as well.

It would take a bit more work, circumstances considered. But it was a challenge he was willing to face! For the sake of peace, Madara, and the child alike!

“Madara, Itachi. It’s good to see you two.” He waved loosely as he approached, a smile he hoped conveyed his sincerity lingering on his lips as he focused his attention downwards towards the boy.

Madara didn’t so much as blink at being passed over, his friend merely rolling his eyes and beginning to rub the hand which permanently lingered against the child’s shoulder in an almost mechanical fashion. “Yes, it has been a long…four hours since our last chat. What an eternity indeed.”

His friend’s sarcasm did little to harden his words, the brief and weary quirk of his lips more than Hashirama had seen for a long while. His voice lacking any real heat as Itachi continued to hide further into his side.

“…”

It was a quite ridiculous sight.

For as young as Itachi was, he was still rather well-built. For him to have just barely entered the double digits and already be so tall up Madara’s side…Hashirama didn’t even want to imagine the monster of a man he would become. Nor the mama bear which must have raised him.

“Itachi.” Madara spoke after a long moment, motioning towards Hashirama’s still half-bent form.

Urging the boy to return his greeting with more patience than Hashirama himself had ever been shown, the brunet sulked mildly. Only perking up once more as he heard Itachi’s reserved yet steady voice ring from behind Madara, “…Hello, Lord Hashirama.”

His heart squeezed pitifully as he watched the child, the little Uchiha’s dark eyes tracing the sidewalk as he spoke rather than making eye contact…as if afraid he might be swallowed whole for braving it.

Then again.

Itachi had been plenty brave enough for his young life, as far as Hashirama was concerned.

To lose both his parents, his only younger sibling, as well as his home in such a short amount of time…to still have the guts to venture out and find his clan all on his own…to fight off or at the very least manage scrambling away from the many shinobi he surly met on the road…

To survive so much on will alone, particularly after such a sheltered upbringing...Hashirama had to applaud the boy. Quiet or not, it was clear he was a fighter.

One which deserved Madara just as much as the man deserved him.

One which deserved everything the village had to offer and more.

“You know.” Hashirama stood straight from his leaning position, keeping his tone easy and kind as to not let his own somber thoughts escape and ruin the mood. “I finally finished sorting through our back-log of business permit requests a few weeks ago.”

He slipped his hands behind his back, beaming, “I saw a tea house or two among them. Perhaps we should pay a visit to show our support and get a little treat while the weather is so nice. I do believe I smelt something quite sweet on the way over…”

He was unblinking as Madara merely rose a brow, crossing his arms at the clear attempt at bribery. Unimpressed as Hashirama held his gaze, silently begging his friend to agree on behalf of his nephew. To just give him this small chance at an in with the boy, at least.

Neither he nor Madara had much of a sweet tooth, but perhaps Itachi hadn’t quite lost his yet. Besides, he was sure there were plenty of savory options for the two of them!

“…Please, uncle?” Itachi spoke what was probably his first request since arriving at the gate weeks ago, breaking through Madara’s preparation to reject the idea of behalf of the boy’s honor. Whatever remark he had prepared to scold Hashirama with for thinking his nephew would sell out so easily dying as Itachi looked up at him with his reluctant request.

Atta boy!

Hashirama silently cheered in victory, a smile blooming over his face as he saw Madara’s scowl deepen.

For a moment, he almost worried the man would reject even his beloved nephew’s request, though the fear quickly vanished as a long sigh of defeat left Madara’s lips.

“Very well. But I do expect you’ll still finish your dinner once we arrive home.” His friend spoke sternly, insisting on at the very least getting the last word out if he was destined to lose regardless.

“I understand. Thank you, uncle. Thank you, Lord Hashirama.”

Itachi’s polite words rekindled the excitement in his heart which had been dampened by Madara’s initial uncertainty, Hashirama nodding firmly in victory. “Wonderful! I’ll lead the way, then. After all, it would be a shame if it were to close before we got there.”

An event which was beyond unlikely, but Itachi had no way of knowing that – and if it served to excite the child more, serve it would.

He walked ahead, the pleased feeling in his chest blooming ten-fold as he heard quiet, reluctant steps speed up from behind him.

Hashirama turned to see the child had, miraculously, left Madara’s side for a brief moment!

Itachi stood directly behind him and ahead of his uncle, gaze shifting between the two wearily as they walked.

Or at least, he was until he spotted Hashirama’s gaze on him.

For as soon as Hashirama locked eyes and turned to face the boy – to encourage his first attempt at indirectly leaving his comfort zone and untucking himself from Madara’s arms – he vanished!

Hashirama’s eyes snapped open precisely in turn with Madara’s, a wave of panic leaving him as they paused in their stroll.

Too far! He had coaxed the child too far out of his comfort zone! And now he was gone!

Panic erupted through him, the brunette reaching up to hold his head as he glanced left to right. Certain he couldn’t have run that far. “Itachi?”

He was driven only further up the wall as Madara seemed to relax after a mere split second despite his horror, a second long sigh leaving his friend as he rested his hand on his hip with a distinctly disappointed look.

Now was not the time to stand by looking pretty! They lost Itachi! Well, he lost Itachi! But Itachi was Madara’s and therefore they both had!

For him to be able to move so fast, combined with the endless energy that only a child could manage, who knew where he was now! He could be near the village gates at this rate! He could be wandering into the training grounds! A child which has known only the stability and safety of his mother’s farm for a decade, lost in an instant!

What had Madara been thinking, letting Itachi out from under his arm!?

Shit, shit, shit!

No, okay. It was fine. Everything was fine. He was probably just rushing ahead to the tea shop! If they just hurried there, he was sure the boy would be-

“…They’re going to close, Lord Hashirama.” He felt a tug on his sleeve from behind, the feeling nearly unnoticeable as the boy’s light as a feather grip held him.

By the time he turned around, Itachi was gone again. And again. And again.

Hashirama turned in circles trying to lay eyes on the boy, the quiet sound of his feet running circles around him leaving the man a bit dizzy as he laughed awkwardly at the child’s antics, “Itachi, I was only teasing. They won’t- close- until much- later-“

He paused after a moment, stilling his body and resting his hands on his knees to ease the spinning around him. Utterly unable to be frustrated with the boy as he heard a small stifled laugh escape hand in hand with Madara’s own.

“The great God of Shinobi, brought to his knees by the world’s most well-behaved child at his most excited. Does Mito know this is the sort of man she has agreed to wed?” Madara snarked, gloved hand reaching up to cover his smirk.

Perhaps the picture of intimidation, had it not been for the slow blinking child which had once more made his way under his free arm. Itachi’s face half hidden in Madara’s shirt as a beet-red blush fell over his face.

“Apologies.”

Spirits. Even now, tired and out of breath, he could only hope his children would be half as behaved or at least willing to repent…though he had little hope in that regard. He had a feeling if anything Itachi’s worst would be their best…

Oh, how he hoped he could push it off for just a few more years. No matter how he loved children, he was certain he wasn’t ready if he could hardly manage such a sweet boy.

Bless Miss Hinode’s soul…

At least he seemed to be getting more comfortable around him. The promise of sweets was as potent a tool as ever.

“And you.” Madara shifted his gaze down to his nephew, lightly pinching his nose between his gloved hands and drawing a small whine from the child, “We are not walking along a path in the woods. We are on a public street, so keep your horseplay to yourself.”

His scolding light, but drawing bleary eyes from the boy even so. “Apologies, uncle.” His head nestled into Madara’s side in a pitiful display…

Hashirama had half a mind to swoop the boy up and carry him off, if not for the fit which he was certain would ensue from both Uchiha.

“Madara…he’s only playing…it’s what the village is for, is it not?” Hashirama pouted right alongside the child, his work in tugging Itachi out of his shell undone in mere seconds.

“It’s to keep them safe Hashirama, not spoiled rotten-” Madara scowled back at him despite the awkward waver in his own voice.

A voice which faltered completely as Itachi propped his head up to look at the elder clansmen through still-bleary eyes, asking with concern, “I’m rotten?”

It was the final straw.

Hashirama reached out, putting a hand on Itachi’s shoulder to test the waters.

Upon being faced with no more resistance than the brief stiffening of his shoulders, Hashirama pressed forward, tugging the boy to rest under his arm rather than Madara’s. Tucking him under despite Madara’s outrage as he shook his head, “There’s no need to be mean, Madara. Look. You’ve put the poor child to tears.”

A drastic exaggeration, but one which served it’s purpose well enough.

He felt Itachi’s stiff shoulders relax below his arm, silently smiling in victory.

It was quite the win, and with such a low cost…especially considering when he knew the boy would be back at his uncles hips by the end of the hour…Hashirama couldn’t not take advantage of Itachi’s cooperative mood.

He'd repay Madara later.

“Oh, poor boy. I do believe he is owed two sweets for his hardships. But you mustn’t worry, Uncle Hashirama has it covered.” He promised with all the seriousness of a thousand suns, unrelenting even as he heard Madara’s undignified sputter from behind.

“Who are you calling ‘uncle’, hm!? That is my nephew, and I’ll have you know he doesn’t wish for the likes of you-“ Madara’s verbal lashing flew right through him, steady in beat with their steps towards the tea house.

It was almost like they were kids again.