Another Chance?
~*~*~*~
He woke up to Kurama rearranging himself at his side, and the presence of someone sitting on the edge of his bed, legs crossed and toying with the bandages on his forearm.
’Was it really that hard to have some privacy to be miserable?’
“Itama,” he greeted, his voice hoarse, sitting up and brushing his hair out of his face. The young Senju looked up with a sheepish smile.
“Good morning,” he said brightly. “You said to come back in two days, and….well, it’s been two days.” He awkwardly held out his arm, tugging at the fraying edges of the bandages over his stitches.
Madara sighed softly, rubbing his eyes. “Right. Give me a minute.”
“Sorry to just come in, but I couldn’t really sleep, and your door was unlocked, and your cat is really cute, and Tobirama is sulking and Hashirama is mad and-”
“Yes, yes, hush now.” The headache from yesterday hadn’t quite gone away yet, but at least he could see clearly. Leaving Itama petting Kurama, he locked himself in the bathroom to shower and dress. One look in the mirror, and he winced. The makeup he wore the night before had smeared, leaving black smudges under his already dark eyes and making him look like a sickly raccoon.
Dark marks had formed on his neck overnight, from when Tobirama had pressed his forearm against his throat yesterday. He brushed his fingers over the bruises, relieved that they didn’t hurt.
Shaking his head at his state, he cleaned himself up in the shower and dressed into something comfy before returning to tend to Itama, grabbing his stolen first aid kit and taking out new bandages, spreading them out on the desk. “Come,” he ordered, and Itama obediently scampered off the bed, hopping up on the corner of the desk and holding out his arm.
Madara sliced through the bandages carefully, discarding the old wraps and inspecting the wound. It looked well; not overly red or inflamed, or leaking fluid. He gave it a customary clean, and rewrapped it.
“Some rules as before,” he said strictly as he tied off the bandages securely. “And stop pulling at the edges.”
“Yes sir!” Itama chirped, examining the new bandages. “Thanks!”
“Mhm.” He tidied up the bandages, restocking the kit, and Itama wandered off to scoop up Kurama, snuggling the cat under his chin.
“Hey Madara?”
“Mhm?”
“I think you’re very brave.”
Madara paused, turning to Itama with a frown. “What?”
Itama didn’t look up, scratching a purring Kurama under the chin. “Last night. When you stopped nii-san from killing the chef. I think that was very brave of you.”
Unsure of how to respond, he hooked his thumbs in his back pockets, giving Itama a scrutinising look. The boy shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.
“It’s just that….no one really tells Tobirama off at all, and sometimes he forgets to go from mafia boss to big brother. But you don’t seem to be afraid of him at all. It’s kinda weird, actually.”
“Well, Itama,” he said, shrugging. “I tend not to be afraid of people who ruin my life.”
“Has he?” Itama asked curiously, setting Kurama down. “Ruined your life?” He sat cross-legged on the bed, gazing up at Madara with wide, dark eyes. So unlike his white haired brother, besides the two toned hair.
“To put it mildly.”
“How?”
“Well. He kidnapped me, isolated me from my friends and family, lost me my job, most likely is ruining my schooling, and won’t let me leave this wretched place for a year. He’s trying to force me to fall in love with him, and might I mention, he’s doing a terrible job of it.”
“That does sound pretty bad,” Itama agreed quietly. “But….he really isn’t that bad.”
“So I keep hearing, but the proof has yet to show itself.”
Itama shrugged. “Well, you didn’t grow up with him. You’ll see one day.” He scratched Kurama once more under the chin. “Thanks again for the bandage wrap, Maddy! See you later!”
“Don’t call me that!” His scolding fell on deaf ears as Itama scurried out of the room, leaving the door half open. Kurama sat up, ears pricked, and hopped off the bed, coming to rub against his ankles, gazing up at him. Madara frowned down at him suspiciously. “What do you want?”
Kurama meowed loudly, then abruptly turned about and sprinted out the door. “Hey! Bastard, get back here!” But Kurama had no intention of coming back, as his fluffy tail disappeared around the door and down the hall. “Stupid cat.” With a sigh, he followed Kurama out into the hall, clicking his tongue to coax the cat back to him.
But Kurama had a taste of freedom, and he wasn’t keen on giving it up. The little orange devil ran happily down the sleek marble floors, tail waving proudly, and Madara stalked after him. “Dammit cat, if I get in shit because of you I’ll skin you alive.”
He wouldn't, of course, but it was a soothing thought. However, no amount of coaxing could change Kurama’s mind, it would seem. The closer Madara got to grabbing him, the more determined Kurama seemed to be to elude capture. He darted down one hall and the next, leading Madra on a maze of twists and turns, until he decided to suddenly turn off and dart through a door open barely an inch, disappearing into the room beyond.
Cursing under his breath, Madara slipped into the room after him.
It was big, just as big as his own, if not larger. A massive bed, a couch, and several book shelves on one side, and a mini kitchenette on the other, with an ancient desk situated under the window overlooking the entire estate. A closed door on the far end likely led to the bathroom, and Madara could distantly hear the sound of water running beyond it. Whoever the owner of this room was, they seemed to be busy.
He knelt down to grab the cat, but Kurama darted away from him with a yowl, diving under the massive bed. “You useless creature,” he grumbled, stomping towards the bed and crouching down to reach under it. His searching fingers brushed his fur, before the cat scurried further under the bed, and further from his reach.
“Kurama, get over here!” he hissed, and went ignored. ’Blast this dumb creature, why do people like these things? Groaning, he went down on his knees, then slid onto his stomach, wiggling half under the bed and grabbing the cat by the scruff of his neck. Kurama meowed unhappily as Madara dragged him out, sitting up straight and pulling Kurama right to his chest. “You are a mangy brat,” he informed the cat seriously, and Kurama just wiggled, trying to escape.
“Ah, ah, I don’t think so.” He locked his arms tightly around the wiggly bundle of fur. In the mini wrestle with the cat, he missed the sound of the shower turning off and the bathroom door opening.
“What are you doing in here?”
The voice startled him, and he jumped, looking over his shoulder at the person standing behind him, arms crossed over his chest, one eyebrow raised. A soaking wet, dressed in only a towel….Tobirama.
Unbidden, his eyes flicked down to the towel wrapped loosely around him, riding very, very low on his hips, then up over his abdomen, his chest, and finally to his face.
’Oh no, he’s hot.’
He bit back an embarrassing squeak before it could escape, shocked at his own realisation. “T-Tobirama! Uhhh….”
“Care to explain why you’re sitting on the floor in my room?” Tobirama asked, both eyebrows raised now, his expression bordering on amused.
In a panic, Madara blurted out the first thing on his mind. “Care to explain why you’re in a towel?”
Tobirama cocked his head just slightly. “I asked first, but I’ll play along. I just got out of the shower, and usually my room is private and empty. It’s not often that I come out and find someone half under my bed.”
For some reason, his words brought a rush of heat to his cheeks, and he turned awkwardly, still sitting on his knees. “Kurama got out,” he said in explanation, and Tobirama’s red eyes flicked down to the cat in his arms.
“I see. And your cat just happened to make his way into my room.”
“You left your door open.”
“Most people know better than to enter my room.”
It took a lot of effort to keep his eyes on Tobirama’s face, when all they wanted to do was trail down and appreciate the sight on display before him.
Tobirama turned, running a hand through his dripping wet hair. “Wait here,” he ordered, and Madara didn’t have it in him to argue as Tobirama disappeared back into the bathroom, only to emerge again only moments later, now dressed in a pair of snug black jeans. He was still bare from the waist up, though he held a shirt in hand, which he tossed onto the bed.
“Are you just going to sit there all day, or…” He waved a hand vaguely, and Madara glared back, clutching Kurama tightly to him and climbing to his feet as gracefully as he could. Tobirama watched him, and his gaze came to rest on the marks on his neck. His expression darkened, and he approached him with quick, purposeful steps. Automatically, Madara stepped back, but Tobirama stopped him with his hands on his shoulders, holding him firmly, but not painfully so, in place.
With one hand, he gripped Madara’s chin, lifting his face up and turning him slightly to the side so he could better see the bruises.
“I owe you an apology,” he said quietly, his eyes trailing over the marks and back to his face. “I lost my temper last night, and for that, I am sorry. And for hurting you. And yelling at you. And everything else.”
Madara gave him a long look. “Why did you want to kill him?” he asked finally.
Tobirama pursed his lips. “I….It…I have a reputation, Madara. I can’t risk any threats to my family, and if that means doing despicable things to maintain that reputation to keep them safe, so be it.” His grip loosened, and his hand fell back to his shoulder. “I know…” He paused, then started over. “I know this is unfair to you, but….I am a selfish man, Madara. Regardless, I…am willing to do more. Try harder, I guess. You go back to work next Monday.”
That was…surprising. “You’re letting me go back?”
“On one condition, that being that you give me a chance.”
Madara raised one eyebrow. “Elaborate on that.”
“Brat. Let me start over, again. Let me court you the way regular people do.”
For some reason, his request struck him as rather amusing. “And how do you want to do that, Mr. Mafia?”
Tobirama’s gaze was searching. “How about a date? Tonight?”
Madara’s other eyebrow joined the first. “A date?” he repeated. “A regular, mundane, boring date, with no guns or knives or killing people or stealing or anything else illegal or questionable?”
The corner of his lip twitched, like he was trying not to smile. “Yes.”
Madara considered for a long moment. He could refuse, and annoy Tobrama some more, or… Maybe he could do as Hashirama requested. And maybe make it easier on himself at the same time. “Okay.”
“Good. I have some business to tend to today, so, I will see you tonight. 7 sharp.” He reached over the bed, grabbing his shirt and yanking it over his head, dishevelling his wet hair further. “And you know, you can make yourself at home. You don’t have to stay in your room.”
“That would have been nice to know a few days ago,” Madara said dryly, rearranging Kurama in his arms.
“Ah, well. I’m pretty sure you wanted to stab me in the neck back then.”
“I still do.”
“Then I’ll be sure to keep my guard up.”
Madara hummed quietly, scratching Kurama under the chin. “Well. I’ll leave you to your business.”
Tobirama bowed his head. “See you tonight, Madara.”
Madara turned, shuffling Kurama once more and heading out the door. Just before he left though, he paused. “Tobirama,” he said lowly, without turning. He heard the Senju humm questioningly. “Don’t ever kiss me without my permission again.”
For a moment, there was silence. “I’m sorry,” the Senju said finally. “It won’t happen again.”
“It had better not.” With that, he strode out the room, closing the door loudly behind him. Kurama meowed and wiggled angrily, and with a sigh, he set the cat down on the floor. Instead of darting off, the orange devil trotted along at his feet, apparently having his fill of mischief for the day. “You are an entirely useless animal, Kurama. And you make my life exceedingly difficult.”
The cat just meowed innocently, and trotted ahead of him with a wave of his fluffy tail.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Hashirama and Kawarama stumbled upon him in the large living room on the main floor, curled up on a comfy lounge chair with his phone, staring at the messages from Izuna from the last few days, and not knowing what to say in response.
I:’DUDE! where the heck did u go? we should do that again, it was awesome. i’m obvs still alive. legit tho, where r u?’
‘I went to ur house and you’re not there??? i thought you had an exam next week???? I figured you’d be cooped up with your books right about now’
‘Hikaku says you havent been to work for a few days. Im actually starting to get worried’
‘MADARA UCHIHA IF YOU DONT ANSWER ME I AM GOING TO KILL YOU.’
‘Kay if this is your version of a prank it is not a good one.’
‘i will actually call the cops.’
‘Actually no i’m telling dad. If you don’t answer me tonight im tattling on your ass.’
Madara groaned quietly, and Kurama meowed sympathetically, hopping up on his lap with a purr.
“Something wrong, Madara?” Hashirama asked, dropping down on the couch next to him. He glanced down at his phone curiously.
“No.” He stared at the screen for a long while, tapping his foot restlessly.
If Izuna indeed went to his father with complaints of Madara all but disappearing off the face of the earth….Well. He wasn’t exactly sure how Tajima would react. Either with brooding curiosity or an all encompassing rage. And if it was the latter, things could turn ugly for his family, very quickly.
His father was a smart man, but when it came to his children, he could be a little….not smart. He had a lot of sway; a lot of power, in the city, and with that kind of influence, he could cause some problems for the Senju. And he did not want his father to get on the Senju’s bad side. He doubted Tobirama would show him mercy.
He re-read Izuna’s messages a few more times, before he finally responded.
M: ’Izu, relax. I’m just out of town for a little bit, seeing an old friend. Not much reception here. I’ll be back next week.’
That should do it, for now.
He tossed his phone aside, and Kawarama made himself comfortable on the arm rest of his seat. “So. You’re going out with Tobirama tonight, eh?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Sure you want to? I could take you out instead. I’m sure I could be a better boyfriend.”
“Sorry Kawarama, but I’m afraid you’re too young.” ’And your brother is much more my type.
The thought had him inwardly scolding himself. Just because Tobirama was attractive, didn’t make him any less terrible.
Kawarama sighed dramatically. “Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me baby.” With that, he kissed Madara on the cheek and scurried away with a giggle when Madara swatted at him.
“Are you going with Tobirama because you want to or because you feel you have to?” Hashirama asked when Kawarama was gone, his expression carefully blank. Interesting question…..
“Maybe a bit of both,” he admitted, drawing his knees closer to his chest. “How do you even know about it?”
Hashirama finally quirked a smile. “Well. As soon as you left his room he came to me in a panic. He has no idea what a ‘regular, mundane, boring date’ is. I had to give him some big brother advice.”
Madra barked out a quiet laugh. “So whatever happens tonight, I can attribute it to you?”
“Not everything,” Hashirama said with a coy little smile. “But I may have given him a few ideas. Do me a favour and be a little patient with him. He’s a bit new to the whole dating thing.”
“I wonder why,” Madara muttered sarcastically. “Can’t have anything to do with the fact that he’s the leader of the most feared crime ring in the country and regularly goes around killing people and doing illegal shit.”
Hashirama gave him a withering look. “Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, Madara.” With a snort, Madara stood up, retrieving his phone and shoving it in his back pocket. Hashirama called after him as he made to leave the room. “Where you going?”
“I’m still in med school, and the next semester starts in 6 weeks. Time waits for no one.”
“Well, you sure are dedicated,” Hashirama chuckled. “Have fun. Can I keep your cat?”
“No. Kurama, come.” Kurama bounded after him obediently, weaving between his legs.
“Have fun tonight! And good luck!”
Madara didn’t reply as he headed down the hall, pursing his lips. Good luck indeed.
He’d need it.