Day 1
DAY 1 February 13th, nostalgia / bonds / survival
Tobirama looked up at the leaves in the trees surrounding him. Some were ripped, limbs of the wood broken and cracked in some places. Blood was splattered everywhere, if he had the energy to do so, he could probably strain his eyes to see droplets even at the top of the trees. Kinkaku was dead, Ginkaku had fled once Tobirama made a bold show that he still had the energy to fight the pseudo-jinchuuriki. But once he was sure the man was truly running away without turning back - he collapsed. Searing pain in every facet of his body.
He had taken a large number of soldier pills, all the ones he had in his pocket - which was usually a lot- he knew it was a risky choice when he did that, but he had hoped he could maybe end them both and get back to Konoha in time for them to hopefully fix it.
But the two men were more powerful than he could imagine. But he wouldn’t regret sending his squad back home without him, not even for a second. Even now he could feel their signatures dipping out of his rapidly depleting range and through the numbness, all he could do was smile. It was warm outside, a gorgeous summer day.
I bet Anija and Mito are out in their garden with Satomi. Hashirama is probably growing far too many flowers for his daughter to play and get dirty in for Mito’s liking even though the latter is still smiling at the carefreeness of the play.
Izuna is probably flirting with Touka down in T&I, using every pickup line he can think of and getting punched for it. Most likely swooning at her viscous strength and bloodthirsty grin when she leaves different cells. Their marriage had always been a strange one.
Hopefully Hashirama would understand, hopefully he wouldn't hate him too much. He’d been the Nidaime for 3 years now and he missed his beloved. It had been 3 and a half since he saw him last. The man whose body he carried home and performed the funeral rights to. The same night he cut his brother from his life. He wanted to hate Hashirama, wanted him to feel the pain he felt daily. His own elder brother had killed his husband, stabbed in the back and body left to rot in the valley the two had created in their fight. The Valley of the End is what people began to call it. And for some kami forsaken reason, Hashirama had erected two statues of him and Madara making the sign of peace on the sides of the waterfall. He had threatened to tear them down so many times, had walked to them and contemplated it even more, one hand sign away from destruction.
But each time he saw a person there, commenting to him how great it is that the two had reconciled and how hard it must have been for Hashirama for his friend to die on a mission against some great evil. The lie they told to keep the fragile peace.
Izuna had been enraged. Desperate to go find his brother’s remains, to ensure the safety of his eyes. Hashirama had tried to get Izuna to calm down about it, but the whole of the Uchiha clan had been ready to start a coup with whispers that Hashirama had been the one to kill their beloved clan head.
And for the sake of the peace his beloved had once fought for, for the brother of the man who he saw hurting… Tobirama had at that point brought Izuna to where he had secretly buried him.
He was burned for it.
Skin red and blistered as he explained that he had performed the proper rights in the Uchiha’s customs. (Izuna had never asked how he knew them.) And gave the man the perfectly preserved sharingan in a sealed scroll. One that only family could get into. 6 months later the Uchiha had demanded he become Hokage for his gracious showing of true peace for returning their leader’s body to them. Hashirama peacefully, though solemnly, handed over the hat. Tobirama hated the thing, like it was poison in his hands. Always picturing his own husband in it. No one knew that though. No one even knew they were even friends, let alone married. It was not hard, both of them had been very private people and while Madara loved PDA, he very much respected Tobirama’s dislike of it. But they had shared a few working lunches that turned into dinner that united into private evenings together and… well one day they had realized they had mostly moved into one another's places. They had a good laugh about it and formed a way to keep it hidden from everyone. Both afraid of the judgemental screams and sneers. Content with the little world they had created together. Teaching Madara the Hirashin had made them being in one place then another within a second had made it all that much easier to hide. As well as alarm seals to alert them to go back to the home they were supposed to be in when someone approached said building.
6 years they had spent doing that, neither one really upset or tiring of the arrangement. He wasn’t exactly sure what did it. Hashirama had told him in secret that Madara had defected. Gone mad with the peace they had made and the lack of fighting. That no sparring or missions would allow him peace of mind. Tobirama called bullshit and almost revealed the truth of his marriage. But Madara would not have wanted that. He had stopped trusting his brother fully that night. Madara had been on a mission when he disappeared, and Tobirama had been in his lab when he first sensed the big blow of chakra about a 30 minutes run, at his speed, from the village. It had caused him to fall over and bloom a headache from the power.
He hirashinned his way there, just in time to see Hashirama leave, Madara’s body half submerged and the hearth that was Tobirama’s favorite place to go when he needed peace, went cold.
It was still a wonder to him that anyone tolerated his presence after that. Izuna liked to say he was just tired of being nice. Which was not fully wrong, just not the full truth. His last good thing that was just his was gone.
He wasn't sure when the sky had gotten brighter or when the world had faded away but he had let go the moment he began to feel the warm hearth of his lover’s chakra once more.
Hiruzen… take care of them. Take care of the village, protect the next generation…