Kindling

Tobirama forced his hands not to shake as he wrote the last line on the contract for the Nara to treat with the Aburame over the possible use of the venom of a few of their insects; the Nara were quickly becoming the most frustrating clan He had to treat with, their insistence on having exhaustive paperwork for anything and everything meant that the work just piled up with them, working on negotiations for their clan alone had took him nearly a week of sleepless nights before Hashirama put down his foot and sent Tobirama to bed (the albino couldn’t always tell when he was butting up against his limits, one of many gifts from their father) promising to have a word with the Nara and their need for busywork. It hadn’t worked as well as either of them would like and so here Tobirama was, in the garden of the main house in the Senju compound surrounded by greenery and water features in an attempt to deaden the stress of the large village, while rewriting the contract for the third time and trying to ignore the shaking of his hands from the overwhelming presence of the village.

“Brother?” Hashirama’s soft voice startled him out of his work and his head jerked up, ignoring the brilliant shifting light at the edge of his vision from his broken Guide sight, “Hashi” he rasped and his older brother winced, dropping down to sit with him in the small pavilion at the center of the garden. “Are the Nara still giving you trouble?” he asked softly looking over the paperwork (he wasn’t touching Tobirama anywhere, he was always careful after the breaking to keep an eye on Tobirama’s body language, the albino both loved and hated it), Tobirama snorted “It’s the Nara,” he said whispered, hating how his voice gave him away “they always give me trouble. Brother, you know that the only reason they do this is because they know I’m taking care of it for you even if I don’t have an official role in the village; they want to keep me busy and that’s why they do this. Brother they still don’t trust me, it would be-“ Hashirama snarled and stood in a whirl of robes and long hair, turning away from his broken eyed brother. “NO, Tobi, no.” he sighed, anger rushing out of his tall frame all at once “we’ve been over this, I will not allow you to be driven from this village, we will find a way to allay their fears.” Tobirama’s look was tired and he had set down the brush and ink, hands shaking too hard to hold it “Madara went too you last night about me. Don’t look like that, all things considered it would be stranger if I didn’t know, but Hashi, even helping you create a system to share power hasn’t helped, it’s  been a year brother. How long do we wait?”

 Hashirama swallowed, Tobirama wasn’t wrong, but it had only been a year and he had to believe that he would find a way to heal his brother, to fix what their father had broken (he had long since killed the “specialist” that their father had brought in, Tobirama knew though he had never asked) better than the stop gap they used now; it hurt to know he couldn’t do anything to help, not more than he and the clan already did. Protect, shield, hide, try to insure that there was a buffer between the younger Senju heir and the clans that feared him even if the Senju feared him too, but… they could only do so much, and it hurt Tobirama so much to hear what was said about him (thought about him, felt about him), he could hear the whispers, sense their chakra recoil from him, and his guide gifts- always overwhelmingly powerful to match his sensing – showed it even more clearly when they weren’t trying to tear him apart.

If only Hashirama could make them see what he saw, that the broken place where there should have been a connection between his emotions and his face was not proof of lack but of damage; Tobirama felt, more strongly than anyone Hashirama knew, but often the only way to know was to watch his hands (they had bound Tobirama’s hands in cuffs and chain around every finger- wouldn’t do to let him use jutsu- so they had never forced that connection broken). “Do you have an idea little brother?” he asked with a sigh as he sat down again, pleased when Tobirama leaned into him with a sigh, carefully and slowly wrapping an arm around narrow shoulders “I do, the Uzumaki princess, yes that one Hashi, I have written to her again and asked if she would consider a marriage alliance again even after it was called off so abruptly, they were… not pleased to have had that happen but Mito-hime has agreed to come and see Konoha and decide. She is a powerful kunoichi and the clans will, I’m sure, ensure that she is on their side; like with Madara if they think there are people who can- and will- control me they may feel safer.”

 Madara rubbed at the bridge of his nose, he had had a headache for over a week now, the strength of the scents of the preparations for the celebration in honor of the Uzumaki princess pressing down on him constantly (it made his ears ring and his eyes sting and he should be better than this) in the days lead in up till now, and standing here waiting for Hashirama to get his ass in gear and arrive was not helping his temper. As if summoned by his thoughts Hashirama appeared at the end of the roads, his brother a silent armor-less shadow behind him and- oh, Madara had never seen the younger man without it (none of them were wearing armor, wrong optics really) but he was… much slimmer than Madara had anticipated, willowy and narrow hipped, graceful in a way the Uchiha hadn’t expected, it made him look totally different even with the ever present faceguard and fur still intact. Hashi stepped up next to him, giving Madara a nervous smile and shifting from foot to foot in anticipation, Madara knew the Uzumaki and Hashirama had met when they were younger- though he had no idea why the match had been called off, except, Butsuma had died around then hadn’t he?- but he hadn’t realized that Hashirama was this attached to her; Tobirama shifted leaning forward a little to bumb his shoulder against his older brother’s and Madara- it felt like a little cool breeze suddenly kicked up, flavored with dark bitter vanilla and river mint and clear water and Madara felt his muscles unwind all at once, head ache easing and the ringing in his ears going quiet, at the same time Hashirama took a deep breath and straightened up, a smile lightening his face as the sensation/smell/silence faded and the Uzumaki came in view.

Mito-hime was a graceful, elegant women with blood red hair and a feline smile, Madara liked her immediately (he always liked women that remind him of his mother’s strength) and Hashirama visibly brightened when he saw her, delighted and vibrating until Tobirama gave him a gentle push to dart forward and kiss her hand, she smiled down at him with real affection and something inside Madara twisted; he wanted what they could have together- that easy familiar warmth- but he knew he would never seek it out, never find it with the power of his senses pushing at him every moment. Hashirama was coming to them all but glowing with pleasure “- and this is Madara Uchiha who co-founded the village with me” Madara nodded to her and her eyes glittered with mirth “and you know my little brother, Tobirama” she looked at Tobirama and her eyes widened for a moment, head tipping thoughtfully before she held out her hand. Tobirama’s eyes shifted, it almost looked like surprise for all that it didn’t show on his face, and took her hand gently bending over it a little; Mito-hime’s face tightened and she touched on pale cheek as the younger Senju stood “It has been too long Tobirama, I see much has changed for you” she said, voice soft. To anyone not standing close, to anyone not a Sentinel, it would probably seem a reference to the village but Madara… Madara saw Tobirama’s hand shake where it held hers.