It's an unremarkable morning.
Tobirama has joined them for breakfast, because he stayed the night, and Madara feels kind enough to feed him after how well he performed this morning. It's a common enough occurrence that Izuna is used to it, though he still pulls a disgusted face if anyone makes him think about the implications too long. They're having a conversation about nothing important. Madara makes a remark and Tobirama twists to glare at him. It not scathing like it would have been a few years ago, but instead the look of a man who suffers a fools every day and considers Madara one of them. He corrects Madara -- 'no, salmon spawning season doesn't start until midsummer' -- then turns back to eating his egg on rice. It's nothing they haven't done a thousand times before, and yet like lightning, Madara looks at Tobirama's back and thinks I want this for the rest of my life.
Their relationship, such as it is, has never been defined by words. It had started as a purely physical, very rough and somewhat violent thing, when Izuna was still too injured to spar with him and peace was still to delicate for him to risk sparring with Hashirama. Irritable had been the least of it, and he'd known working of energy would help; when Tobirama had gotten into his face on a night so late it was early, the places he had taken it had only felt natural at the time, what with his mixed feelings on the man. The strangest thing about the whole experience was that Tobirama allowed him close enough for it to happen at all.
He'd thought, at first, that Tobirama had just been looking for release like he was. As the man continued to allow -- sometimes instigate-- their meetings, he'd started to wonder it maybe it was some misguided attempt at manipulating him. He'd thought , wrongly, he now realizes, that Tobirama could never have any sort of hold over his heart. Thought there was nothing there to be worthy of guarding against. But now…
He's not certain when it started building. Maybe it was the first time where he'd kept Tobirama into the morning and, presumptuous as always, the Senju had announced that if Madara was so intent on keeping him this long the least he could do was make him breakfast. Madara, in a good mood, had allowed it. Maybe it was when Izuna -- fully healed, slightly drunk, and very adamant on riling up Tobirama however he could -- had let slip to Hashirama the nature of their relationship; specifically how much and how loud they were doing things. Madara had assumed Hashirama had known, but he'd been shocked and angry, right up until Tobirama stood between them and defended what they had -- whatever it was -- as mutually beneficial.
(Hashirama's still not quite over it. He loudly changes the subject every time Madara implies any of what's actually going on between him and his brother, which works well to keep Madara from hearing about the much weirder things he gets up to with his own wife).
Maybe it was seeing him with his students -- stern but fair, fond when he thought no one was looking -- or Izuna, exasperated only on the surface; now that he knows what to look for, Madara is certain that he finds arguing with him fun. Maybe it was all of it, twisting and growing together into this white hot feeling in his chest.
Madara is in love.
…Does Tobirama know? Does he feel the same?
He can figure it out, can convince him, Madara is certain of it. It's just that, for all that Tobirama espouses directness in his day-to-day life, Madara knows that when it comes to feelings that he's is liable to spook like a cat if he tries to confront them directly. In which case he needs a plan of attack …
"…nii-san?"
Izuna is the one who calls for him, but Tobirama is the one to nudge him with his knee.
"…Just thinking." He says, and takes a bite of his own breakfast to hide the smile that creeps up on him when Tobirama and Izuna both bite off whatever rude comment they were about to make -- both realizing the realize the other was going to say something. He nods at Tobirama. "Are you going to walk to work with us?"
"No, It's nearly an hour past sunrise, I should be there already." He stands, brushes the wrinkles out of his yukata -- technically borrowed, though it might as well not be with how often he wears it, "The revisions on the trade agreement with Iron are due today, as are the jounin instructor recommendations. Don't forget."
And then he's gone. Teleported back to his own home to get dressed. Madara stares at space he's left behind. Izuna is watching him stare, eyebrows raised.
"I'm going to court him." Madara announces. Izuna doesn't react, except to look between Madara and the spot Tobirama just disappeared from.
"…Is that not what you've been doing?" He holds up his hands when Madara turns to glare at him, "Right, right. Okay, congratulations! Don’t know how you'll think you'll manage it, but I don't know how you got to this point in the first place, either. And I also don't want to know, before you get any ideas."
"He's going to be your brother in-law."
"And that changes what? He'll be forced to show me a little more respect, if anything." Izuna peers off to the side, "…Before you go off and get married, can we change clan law to consider me the older brother, since I've been Uchiha longer?"
They end up wrestling right there on the floor. Madara heads out to work that day with Izuna's hair tie around his wrist, a nervous anticipation in his gut, and the beginnings of a plan.
The first step is innocuous enough, it doesn't have to be a part of the courting process at all, really. But all the great romances between shinobi, at least in Uchiha history, begin with a fight. And somehow, throughout all these years, Madara has never faced off against Tobirama directly. If he's going to go through with this, he needs to remedy that before anything else.
"Spar with me."
It's the first thing out of Madara's mouth when he makes his way to the hokage tower that day. Tobirama's eyes flick up to him from where he's reading something at his desk, unimpressed.
"Not now."
"Obviously not now." Madara blusters to cover how pleased he is with not being rejected outright, "After work."
"I teach my students after work today." Which is true of every day. The challenge is not so much to get Tobirama to accept a chance at a spar -- he's certain the man will jump at the opportunity to test his skills or whatever new thing he's invented against Madara -- it's convincing him that he has the time in the day to do so.
"So let them watch." Madara says flippantly, "They're young enough that they've never seen a real high-powered fight. Maybe they could learn something."
"...It could be good for some of them" Tobirama admits after a long moment, "But I'm not Hashirama, it's not going to be the sort of battle you'd be expecting from him."
"Mm, I know." The more he thinks on it the more exited he becomes. Hashirama is the only true equal he's ever found in battle, but Izuna is frequently close enough to nip at his heels, and Tobirama has proven to be inventive enough to put him on his ass…
Tobirama defends his family with the same single-mindedness that Madara does. Now that he's not a danger to them, Madara can't wait to see how. Still, he can't resist taunting, "It will be a good lesson for them in how to properly retreat from a stronger enemy."
Madara knows he has him from the glower he's put on Tobirama's face.
"Outsmart, more like." He grumbles, "Fine. Training field 11, don't be late."
Madara is exactly on time, which of course is horribly late by Tobirama's standards. When Madara drops into the forest clearing, it's to find the man lecturing not his usual three, but nine students, an Uchiha child among them. They look up at him with wide eyes, one of them is even clutching a notebook tight to his chest. Madara raises an eyebrow back and they literally squeak, which he ignores. There's something a little bit funny about the fact that only children will be witness to a fight that a majority of the shinobi in the village would pay money to see.
"--You all understand?" Tobirama asks and receives a chorus of nods. "Good."
Madara smirks as Tobirama turns to look at him. He's taken to wearing lighter clothes these days, but it seems like he stopped by his home to go put on his armor and fur before fighting him. It's a sight he's seen a hundred time before, and yet this time it sets his heart fluttering with giddiness.
Madara himself had made sure to go grab his gunbai and kama, on top of his own armor. He hardly gets to use it as much as he'd like, these days.
"Terms?" He asks.
"Until first blood, capture, or surrender." Tobirama's eyes flicker over to the children who look like they're eating up his every word, "Ninjutsu is fine but nothing that will cause too much collateral damage or limit visibility, for now."
For now, that's a good sign.
"Fine by me." Madara agrees easily, "I'm not the one who likes to make steam."
Tobirama rolls his eyes, but he walks over to stand at a distance from both Madara and his students, who themselves scatter back away to the edge of the trees that make up this training ground. Tobirama makes the sign of conflict, and Madara matches him, and before he can even call up his sharingan, his opponent has disappeared, the tell-tale crack of a hirashin reverberating in the air.
Pure instinct alone has Madara turning to block Tobirama's strike with his gunbai. Of course he would set up in advance if given the chance, but the marker he left was far enough away that he couldn't instantly strike Madara. Even if he could, he might not have taken the chance -- an quick win is good in a real fight, but it makes for a poor spar, and an even poorer learning experience.
It immediately turns into a taijutsu battle from there, and now Madara can finally appreciate firsthand why Tobirama has his reputation as the fastest shinobi alive. Economy of movement is a given for any shinobi, but as they exchange strikes and Madara parries and dodges Tobirama as he fluidly moves between styles, he can finally appreciate firsthand just how much Tobirama has worked it down to an art.
He's beautiful always, but especially when he fights, and now Madara has the sight of it with him forever.
When Madara attacks, Tobirama expertly weaves around him. When he leaps back to make room to swing his gunbai properly, Tobirama counters the blades of wind with a fuuton of his own, easily neutralizing them. Where Hashirama would meet power with power, Tobirama is trick after trick. An exploding tag, a kawarmi, kunai with ninja wire nearly slicing off his hair, and though Madara can track him with his sharingan (until he pulls out another hirashin and he can't) the constant assault keeps him on his toes. It's the most interesting, most exhilarating battle he's had in ages.
It's like a dance.
With a mad grin and a battle cry, Madara launches himself towards the tree that Tobirama has just darted behind, only for three figures to leap away in different directions.
They're all Tobirama, which means they must be clones or some other sort of visual trick, except they're not, because the sharingan reveals that they all have the same chakra network, and none of the discrepancies in appearance that they should. Whatever they are, now Madara has to treat each one like they're the real man.
Madara can't help but laugh, a little wild. Trust Tobirama to keep things interesting.
He can't possibly keep an eye on all three versions of him at once, and so when he has to twist and dodge a needle of water that flies dangerously close breaking the skin on his cheek Madara… Might go a bit overboard.
He only summons a single arm of his Susanoo, just enough to take out the trees that Tobirama is using for cover. It could considered too much collateral damage, and admittedly the dust it kicks up isn't great for anyone without a sharingan to see through, but Madara has rearranged his priorities, for the moment. One of the Tobirama's eyes go wide at the sight of his chakra contstruct, and it's enough of a blindside for him to pin him down with it. But before he can do much more than push him into the dirt, he disappears into a puff of smoke, leaving nothing behind but air.
Madara blinks at the empty spot, and suddenly Tobirama is on him from the other side, so fast that even with the sharingan it's a test of his reflexes to block the sword strike in time. Then then other clone darts in, and all Madara can do to avoid a hit is gain some distance, only they're not letting him, so instead he drops his gunbai entirely, drops unwinds the weight of his kama from his sleeve, and switches to the offensive.
Tobirama reacts, but not in time to avoid what should have been a slice to his arm. Only that Tobirama, too, disappears in a puff of smoke, and the remaining copy uses it as an opening to duck in close to Madara, sword pulled back. Madara isn't surprised for long enough to allow the strike to land without consequence, but--
They both freeze -- Tobirama's sword is resting on his collarbone, but Madara's kama is in place to open up the artery in Tobirama's arm. They're both panting, and Madara knows he's smiling like a fool.
"Call it a draw?" He offers, and the both let out a breath, relaxing and stepping back, looking each other over to see how well they've done. Tobirama looks a little scuffed up, but he seems pleased with himself. His expression hasn't changed, but his eyes sparkle with something that makes Madara want to pull him in and kiss him senseless.
"Hardly." Tobirama scoffs, "You made yourself bleed as soon as you pulled up that chakra construct."
Madara blinks. Reaches up and touches his cheek where blood has run down from his left eye. He snorts.
"By that logic, I would have lost for using a summoning jutsu as well. This is a draw. Which means we'll have to have a rematch." He hums. "Best of three?"
Tobirama tries to hide it by shaking his head, but his lips quirk up at the corner.
"Perhaps later." He says, turning to face the children that have started to clamor their ways over the downed trees to come shout their excitement.
Madara rolls his eyes and watches, knowing he looks openly fond and not bothering to try and hide it.
Tobirama had looked into Uchiha courting when their physical relationship began, wanting to make sure he wasn't stumbling his way into some sort of trap. At the time, he'd left satisfied that he and Madara were pursing the same thing.
The sudden offer to spar had been a warning sign Tobirama had been aware of, though not a guarantee of Madara's intentions. The offers of tea and shared meals aren't new, though they have increased in frequency. The gifts, though, are a dead giveaway, not matter how Madara tries to brush them off as no big deal.
He's annoyingly thoughtful with them, too. Tobirama had been wondering just how much longer he could stretch out his last calligraphy brush when Madara had dropped one on his desk, had only once mentioned the extra security that has to go into importing books from Lightning Country before one had shown up on Madara's table with the recommendation that he read it.
It's outside the bounds of what they've done up until now, and Tobirama knows he should be cautious. Instead, thinking on it just makes him feel warm from the inside like he's downed a glass of heated sake.
It's not a new feeling either, not exactly. He and Madara haven't been truly at each others throats in a while now, and the hostility giving way to something else, though a slow process, only makes sense. But…
"I think Madara is courting me." He informs Hashirama at dinner one evening. Mito, thankfully, isn't there, off visiting her family in Uzushio, or else Tobirama might not have been able to muster the nerve to bring it up. She tends to give him advice so sensible that he'd end up following it, regardless of how ready he felt to do so.
"Oh, really?" Hashirama asks, eyes bright as he perks up, "It took him long enough. Though… Hmm, he hasn't said anything to me."
"I think he thinks he's being subtle. "
"…Madara, subtle?"
"Not really."
Hashirama snickers in between bites of food, but the amusement drops from his face after only a moment, in favor of looking at Tobirama with concern.
"Ah… How do you feel about that, then? You want him to court you, or…?"
Tobirama opens his mouth, only to shut it again a moment later, teeth clacking.
He does want it. Too much, he thinks. Dangerously much.
More than having Madara's hands on him, he wants Madara to have a good opinion of him, of all things. Wants Madara to seek out his attention in the same way Tobirama finds himself seeking his. He feels as though he's earned Madara's regard not out of any obligation they have between each other, but all on his own, and that regard makes him feel… Happy. Easy and uncomplicated in a way it hasn't been for most of his life, and he wants to keep it that way.
How annoying, to feel as fond as he does for a man as irritating as Madara Uchiha.
Hashirama's expression has softened, probably because he can spot the flush creeping up Tobirama's cheeks as he thinks himself into knots.
"I know you've got a million arguments for why you shouldn't, otouto, but if you want it, and he's offering, why not accept it?" He hums, "You know, I wanted --"
"I get it." Tobirama cuts his brother off from what is no doubt going to be another speech on how he dreamed of this village for Tobirama's sake, face burning. "I'll consider it."
Truth be told, he's already decided as soon as the words have left his mouth. Perhaps it's selfish of him, but there is some wisdom in what Hashirama is saying. Madara is offering to… Care for him, and Tobirama, despite everything, wants to allow it -- not only that, but encourage it, which he thinks means he's meant to care for Madara in return.
He might be able to manage it.
Tobirama feels some days as though nothing between them is any different, and some days as though everything is, and the union of those two opposites is this:
Madara is capable of infuriating him worse than any other person in the world, and Tobirama will not only endure it, but on occasion enjoy it, because he's also the only one Tobirama could imagine entrusting the rest of his life to.
Tobirama is not well versed in expressing his affection, and he knows that attempting to do so in the way others do will lead only to misunderstandings and confusion. He simply does what he's always done, and supports Madara's efforts. That they seem to be focused almost entirely on pursing Tobirama makes it simple enough.
Madara always seems so pleased when Tobirama accepts whatever token he wants to give or gesture he's trying to make. He rarely manages to do it perfectly, because he doesn't see the point in all of this when they've been in a relationship years already, but it makes Madara happy, which in turn makes Tobirama feel… Feelings.
This time, though, he thinks Madara may have overstepped.
"You have no authority to dictate my schedule!" He fumes, stalking after Madara, who's just informed him that he's 'free tomorrow night' and turned to retreat to his office like that makes any sense, "You know full well I was planning on auditing the gate guards --"
"And it'll be all the more effective if you drop in on them at random, no?" Madara pulls a package from a desk drawer and thrusts it at Tobirama's chest, "There's a sort celebration in the compound, late tomorrow. I'm inviting you as my guest."
"Then lead with that." Tobirama snarls. They are both very aware that he hasn't said no, and Madara's eyes crinkle at the corners when he snatches the package hard enough to crumple the container, though he wisely doesn't comment on it. Instead he says, "I'll pick you up at eight."
It's an unnecessary gesture that he keeps insisting on, these days. Tobirama doesn't give him the satisfaction of a response, nor of opening the gift in front of him. Truth be told, he nearly forgets about it, until the sun is setting, and he's leaving the office; he spies it sitting on the corner of his desk where he left it. Madara hared off earlier than he usually does, presumably to arrange the 'sort-of-a-celebration' and so Tobirama snatches the package and finally opens it.
Inside is a yukata, soft and slightly thicker than most of the ones Tobirama owns. It's blue -- the same shade of blue that Madara and Izuna tend to wear -- and dotted with white in a kanai-anzen pattern. Except, Tobirama can't help but note, a large space on the back in the shape of the Uchiha mon, is left empty, a shadow of the symbol that's just as obvious as if it were there.
No, Madara isn't subtle at all. At least this is a sign that things are finally starting to move along.
He's wearing it when Madara arrives at his door, and it prompts the other man to look him up and down with a hunger in his eyes that has Tobirama's body reacting on instinct, which he frowns and crushes down. There will be time for that later. For now, he dubiously eyes Madara's offered arm and says, "People will talk."
Madara's eyebrow goes up, "I didn't think you cared about such things."
He doesn't, and the crispness of the winter air this late in the evening make it more appealing than walking alone. He lets Madara tangle their arms together and basks in the warmth the other man puts out, despite the fact that he doesn't strictly need it if he circulates his chakra. This late, there's hardly any one see them and spread rumors, anyways. Most people have the good sense to stay home on winter nights.
Not the Uchiha, though. When the arrive, it seems that the festivities are well underway. There's a fire that's already mostly burnt out, and many of the faces he sees are flushed with drink. Curiously, it seems to be centered near the forges rather than the center of the compound, and there's a tall structure with green bamboo laid out on the top of it that Tobirama can't discern the reason for. As far as he can tell, this celebration doesn't seem to be for anyone in specific either.
He doesn't dare voice his question with so many onlookers who may get offended at his ignorance around. Instead he lets Madara lead him onto the engawa of a nearby house, and accepts the warm drink that he's handed.
"Madara-sama! Oh-- Tobirama-sensei! Hi!" Kagami skids to a stop in front of them from around the corner. He bows and bowls on with, "Everyone's ready, you said we could start as soon as you got back, so--"
"Yeah, yeah." Madara waves him off, "Get all your friends and get all the lanterns out and you can start."
Kagami whoops and takes off running, and soon the compound is filled with a bunch of Uchiha children of mostly genin age jumping about and trying to out all the paper lanterns that have been set up. Distractions abound, Tobirama finally leans in and asks, "It's a bit late for a new years celebration, isn't it?"
Madara shrugs.
"We'd wanted to do it earlier, but it's a tradition that we haven't done in quite a while. There was more to it than I remembered."
One by one, the lights are snuffed out out, until all that's left is the red-orange heat of the forge. Madara reaches out and loops his arm around Tobirama's waist, feeling as hot as the molten iron everyone else is gathering around.
"I only remember my older brothers doing this when I was a little child. Things got too tight for us to keep it up, so by the time I would have been old enough we'd stopped. But we're at peace. We can now."
Feeling indulgent, Tobirama allows Madara to press his face to his neck, despite typically never allowing such things in public. It's dark enough that someone would have to activate their sharingan to be seen, and then Tobirama would know exactly who was looking.
"Our clans are." Tobirama replies, thoughtful, "But I wonder if men like us can ever truly know it."
Across from them, one of the children hold out a some wooden implement, and an adult pours metal from the forge into it. They shout and run under the structure he'd noticed before, tossing the metal above their head to strike against the roof. It splits into millions of sparkling orange lights as it hits the cold air, like a firework, and the other Uchiha cheer.
There's a beauty to it, Tobirama can admit, and it is so very Uchiha.
Another child runs after the first, before all the sparks have even finished falling, and Madara turns to kiss Tobirama's jaw.
"Perhaps not." He answers Tobirama's rhetorical question, "But perhaps in some things I would prefer to never know peace."
Tobirama huffs, not even sure himself whether it's a laugh or exasperation. "If you're going somewhere with this, speak plainly."
Madara chuckles, the sound lost as a third child runs and throws their firework, but Tobirama can feel the rumble of it where their bodies are pressed together.
"I've been courting you, you know." His breath is warm where it tickles over Tobirama's skin.
"I know."
"And you've allowed it."
"I have."
A beat of quiet between them. Kagami is the next one to run by, his firework is a bloom of brightness in the dark night. Madara pulls his away to shoot Tobirama a half-lidded look.
"So you accept my suit."
"I will when you make one properly."
Those dark eyes roll in exasperation, and Madara collapses his weight back on Tobirama's shoulder.
"Do you really want to go through all that nonsense? Months of not touching each other and only being able to meet with chaperones?"
Tobirama does not, but for men of their station… "It's important. And I'm rather certain we can find ways to skirt the rules. Unless you're not up for it?"
Madara hardly needs to be manipulated into accepting. His arm around Tobirama's waist tightens. Another firework sparkles to life in front of them.
"Of course I am."
And he will be, Tobirama knows. The future he might share with Madara is unlikely to be a peaceful one, but they weren't made for that, anyways.