Kindling

Tobirama absently scratched his fingers through Madara's long hair grimacing faintly as it got caught in a snarl, honestly, he needed to take care of his hair if he was going to keep it this long. He really needed to take better care of himself in general; about the time he had fallen asleep draped over Tobirama’s legs it had become obvious he had lost an unhealthy amount of weight sometime between the founding of the village and now. Tobirama had always thought of Madara as a particularly solid person; for all that he was a few inches shorter than Tobirama he outweighed the albino by several pounds, which made the fact that his weight across Tobirama's legs was manageable disconcerting. Combining that with the mess that was his hair, the disaster of his house (which in all fairness wasn't really a disaster just uncomfortably dusty with the look of long disuse), and the heavy circles under his eyes, was painting a picture of ill-health that made Tobirama very nervous. Why had no one noticed before now? It made no sense that his clan would be so neglectful of their clan head, how had this kind of discord grown up amongst the Uchiha so quickly? And why hadn't Tobirama noticed? For that matter why hadn't Hashirama noticed? And he hadn't noticed, Tobirama would have heard about it if he had, what with the way his brother wailed and carried on any time anything was wrong he certainly would have heard if something as drastic was happening to Madara and Hashirama knew. 

Tobirama was well aware his brother could be more than a little neglectful of the people he avowed to love the most, always too focused on his large concepts of the greater good he had a tendency to overlook the emotions around him; something that had given Tobirama more than a little grief over the years, he didn't know how Mito lived with it honestly. And he was more than a little concerned about how it would go when children entered the picture; though if they were lucky children would help Hashirama focus again on the people in his life. In the meantime, Tobirama had an unwell Uchiha to deal with. He needed to make a list; well, probably two. One of all the things that were distinctly wrong with Madara, (like excessive paranoia and the fact that his grief only seemed to grow stronger with time and not ease as it should) and one for all of the places Madara's support system should have been there and hadn’t. Tobirama was too much a shinobi of wartime to not find something inherently suspicious in the systematic isolation of one of the most powerful Shinobi ever; but the question of who or why such a thing would be done- not to mention the question of how- nagged at him. 

Tobirama peered down at the dark head in his lap ... perhaps list-making would wait. Madara looked like he needed sleep too much for Tobirama to want to wake him up when he seemed comfortable; but it wasn’t in Tobirama's nature to sit long and do nothing, particularly when his mind was so troubled (why was it Tobirama that had reached out? Why him of all people? Why had no one else done anything?). The albino sat tugging absently at the long dark hair- it was much finer than Tobirama had expected, which meant there was even more then he had anticipated- perhaps he could do something about this problem at least; Tobirama dug around in one of  the pockets hidden in his short kimono shirt pulling out the small jar of his sun oil- it was annoying to have to slather it on so frequently but given that the alternative was the terrible sunburns he had gotten in his childhood he made to do- it smelled faintly of rose hips and wasn’t too heavy so it shouldn't be overly unpleasant in the older man's hair. The lack of a comb was somewhat annoying, but he would make do; if he got annoyed enough, he could always some in one of his leopards to go fetch it though they would undoubtedly be most displeased to be summoned for such a trivial task. It was a surprisingly pleasant task to sit and carefully untangle Madara’s fine hair; with the application of time- and the oil to tame the worst of the snags- it wasn't even as difficult as he had been afraid it would be; in fact Tobirama rather lost track of time as he focused on his task, trying hard to ignore the absent thought that it was going to be much harder to keep his hands out of Madara's hair now than it had been before (Tobirama would never admit that it had always been somewhat difficult).

He was so absorbed that when finally done he was a little surprised to look up and realized the light in the main room had changed into the dimness of dusk. He frowned thoughtfully, before giving up and carefully  biting his thumb to press it to the ground and summon one of his calmer leopards; when Akira appeared in a puff of smoke she took in the lack of battle with some surprise before butting her head companionably into Tobirama’s shoulder “Why have you summoned me cub?” Tobirama smiled, it really had been too long since he had called upon any of them, “I need some help with this one” he said gesturing down at Madara. Akira sniffed thoughtfully at his dark head before sneezing and pearing up at Tobirama “He is unwell,” she said seriously, Tobirama pressed his lips together before nodding “I know, I am going to do my best to do something about it.” the snow leopard nodded approvingly before sitting back on her haunches “What need to have you of me?” “Well, first if you would fetch a comb.” Tobirama said, as close to sheepish as he would ever be. Akira shot him a distinctly unimpressed look but stood gracefully and disappeared in the depths of the house. A moment later she returned with not only a comb but a hair tie as well, “It will stay smooth longer if you tie it back” she pointed out. Tobirama took the proffered items from her gratefully, ”Will you check the state of the kitchen? He needs to eat but I would rather not have to go to the market if I can avoid it.” She loped out of the room and Tobirama set to the task of carefully combing out and then braiding Madara’s hair. It was a fast task given how frequently Tobirama had helped Toka with her hair when they were young- it wasn't something she asked for help with anymore but there had been a time where they sat for hours and worked on learning new braids until she settled on a hairstyle she preferred. Akira slipped back into the room and shot Madara an approving look- Tobirama had settled on one of the more complicated braids he knew, a loose five strand fishtail that shouldn't pull overly hard on a sensitive scalp and cause a headache but would keep it out of his face. “There are the basics in the kitchen” Akira said, “nothing overly fresh though.” “We’ll make do” Tobirama assured her before focusing on the task of not waking Madara as he slipped out from under the older man. Akira sighed faintly “Let him lean on me” she said firmly, Tobirama shot her a surprise glance but gratefully shifted Madara off his lap and let the snow leopard take his place. Somewhat to Tobirama’s surprise Madara only stirred a little before settling down against the soft fur, “He is much too thin, you will go make him food” Akira ordered him imperiously, Tobirama snorted faintly but did as he was told and headed away to the kitchen.

As Akira had predicted the kitchen was rather less than optimally stocked but there was enough to make a simple meal of rice and miso soup. The lack of protein was frustrating, (what did Madara eat?!) but would have to do for tonight until Tobirama could get out to the market and get fresh ingredients. Clearly Madara could not be trusted to take care of himself, so Tobirama would simply have to do it until he figured out what was going on; (if that had the added advantage of keeping him away from the Senju compound for the foreseeable future, well, Tobirama wasn't going to complain) thus decided he set about making dinner and cleaning the kitchen determinately.

Madara was confused. And warm, which was definitely worth noting because it had been some time since he had woken up warm and calm; awoken not by nightmares but by the scent of food actually, he wasn't sure he'd ever woken simply to the scent of food since his father had died. He stirred, a little confused by the strange pull on his scalp and even more confused by the soft fur under his fingertips (fur?), he pulled back and stared bewildered at the white and black spotted fur underneath his cheek for a second before starting at calm voice “It’s good that you're awake” the snow leopard said (snow leopard?); why was there a snow leopard in his house? And it was definitely his house, he knew the smell and feel of it (cold and empty, none of the sense of home that he craved), actually right now he couldn't really smell it, all he could smell was something vaguely rose like and woody. Increasingly confused he dragged the heavy weight of his hair over his shoulder staring an absolute bewilderment at the thick braid.

“What?” His hair hadn’t looked this nice in quite some time and it certainly hadn't ever been braided this well before, even when he had had- no, he wasn't going to think about that. Increasingly confused he stared the braid and then at the snow leopard who was beginning to look thoughaly amused, before looking around himself. “What…...?” before he had chance to ask a more intelligent question, he was startled by the appearance Tobirama in the doorway to the kitchen. “You’re awake. Good, dinner is almost done” Madara gapped him in confusion “Dinner?!” He spluttered, nothing made sense right now. The albino sent him an unimpressed look “Yes, dinner. Though it's not much, I will be refilling your kitchen tomorrow.” with that confusing statement he turned around and vanished into the kitchen again “Best do as he says” the snow leopard told him. Madara didn't think he had ever had a cat laugh at him before, but he was pretty sure that was what was going on here as the snow leopard made a quiet chuffing sound “Why did he make dinner?” “Because clearly you can't be trusted to take care of yourself” she said shooting him and even more unimpressed look than Tobirama had managed. “Now, off to dinner with you” as if on cue Tobirama appeared again and strode straight over to Madara leaning down and hooking a startlingly gentle hand around his elbow and tugging him to his feet. “It's time to eat.” Tobirama said before guiding Madara, his hand still strangely gentle, to the kiatsu and depositing him there with a bowl of rice and another of miso “As I said it's not much, tomorrow we'll make something more interesting.” Madara was confused. Very confused. “…...What?” “Food, tomorrow we will make something more interesting to eat, I know how to cook better than this.”  “So do I” said Madara faintly offended “Well then why don't you?’’ Tobirama asked in what he probably considered a very reasonable tone of voice; Madara, who was more than a little off balance because of this strange sequence of events, just gaped at him for a moment unable to come up with a response that didn't poke at the looming pain in between them. At a loss for what else to do he turned to his food.

The meal passed in a surprisingly comfortable silence, especially once Madara realized that he really was quite hungry (he didn't notice Tobirama's approving expression when he went back for more); and after the meal Madara was more than a little confused to be gently ushered into his bedroom and told that he was to go to bed, especially when the snow leopard- whose name he still didn’t know- slipped in past Tobirama's legs and flopped down comfortably on the bed giving no indication that she intended to move anytime soon. Madara stood in the doorway and stared again (this was becoming a little too frequent for his comfort) until the snow leopard lifted her head “Do you intend to sleep in those robes? They don't look as comfortable as what you humans normally sleep in” Madara glanced down at his clothing and let himself be prodded into changing into a comfortable well-worn yukata and then into bed. At first he lay as still as possible unwilling to acknowledge Tobirama's summons- but before long the painful whispers started up again inside his mind and he curled up against the leopard, pressing his face firmly into the soft fur and finding somewhat to his shock that it lulled him into an easier sleep then he had had in a very long time.

Tobirama looked through the doorway it where Madara was curled up so tightly against Akira that he was barely visible as more than a twist of dark hair; Akira lifted her head and looked at him, he nodded firmly to her, understanding her silent assurance that she would keep watch over the Uchiha while he set about the task of figuring out what the hell was going on in the village.