Chapter Text
'Sasuke Uchiha.'
The name echoed in Tobirama's mind, playing on endless loop like a song you couldn't get out of your head despite your best efforts.
Not that Tobirama was putting in a whole lot of effort anyway, what with the way he just couldn't stop staring.
Blinking rapidly Tobirama whipped his head back to the teacher speaking at the head of the class, trying not to tilt it again just a little to the left and front- he really needed to stop.
He couldn't help it. He used to be in love with this man, or rather the man this boy used to be before. Before they were all thrust into this loop of life and death, before they were Sasuke and Sakura and Naruto, before when they were still Madara and Tobirama and Hashirama, before Madara had become a broken, devastated, cruel man whose only goal in life was to attempt to make others experience the same pain he did, before he'd betrayed the village, betrayed Hashirama, betrayed Tobirama.
As if he'd been dealt a sudden, solid blow to the gut, Tobirama gasped, feeling all the air whoosh out of his lungs as unbidden, another memory surged over him.
He was on his back, panting softly as he stared up at the wooden slats that formed the ceiling of his office. The cold hardwood of the floor provided little comfort against the various aches and bruises he could feel throughout his body. Tobirama turned his head sideways, tentatively burying his face in the thick, black mane of the person laying atop him, head nestled in the crook of Tobirama's shoulder. He inhaled slowly, sweat, smoke and the sweet-sour tang of umeshu filling his lungs even as he tried to be subtle so as not to alert the person of his action. He felt it before he heard it, an abrupt puff of warm air against his shoulder as the person huffed in what he knew by now was barely veiled contempt. He hadn't been as subtle as he thought then.
Despite the recent exertions and the furnace-like body covering his, Tobirama felt cold inside as a familiar leaden feeling settled heavily in his chest. Even so, he kept his face carefully blank as the other man finally stirred. Pushing himself up with a grunt, Madara Uchiha loomed over him, face mere inches from his own as he braced himself with a forearm on either side of Tobirama's head.
"I hate you," the man intoned, not for the first time. Full lips curled into a sneer as he stared into Tobirama's eyes, mangekyo spinning indolently , a threat and a taunt at once.
Tobirama stared back unflinchingly, long accustomed to the Uchiha's attempts to perturb him with his deadly doujutsu. If Madara truly wished to kill him via Tsukuyomi aided psychological torture, he would've done it by now. Not that the sight of the cursed eyes he'd been raised to hate and avoid all his life didn't stiffen his spine everytime he caught sight of it; but he'd mostly learned to conceal any anxiety he felt in this regard. In this at least, he would not give Madara the satisfaction.
Tipping his head back, Tobirama raised his brows, "I know," he replied easily, allowing his lips to curve into a sardonic smirk as if he couldn't care less.
As if he didn't feel something inside him shrivel and die everytime he heard those three words.
Madara narrowed his eyes, sharingan red shifting to coal black as he frowned down at Tobirama. He then proceeded to dip his head, slowly moving down Tobirama's bare body before coming to rest at his stomach, planting his face in the younger man's navel. He moved his arms further up, loosely draping his hands over Tobirama's shoulders.
Tobirama vaguely wondered why the two of them bothered with all the posturing. Who were they even trying to convince? Who was Madara trying to convince? Tobirama at least, was honest to himself.
Just as soon as he finished the thought, a ragged gasp cut through the air, shortly followed by a warm wetness where Madara's head was still buried against his stomach. It took him a few seconds but he could just barely make out what the older man was mumbling, a continuous litany of 'I hate you's' even as his arms curled tighter around Tobirama's body.
Tobirama raised his head slightly to look down his chest at the man clutching at him desperately even as he proclaimed his apparent distate towards him.
Letting his head thud back onto the ground, Tobirama stared up unseeingly, wondering when this had become his life. Being in love with a man who couldn't stop being ashamed of being in love with him and yet couldn't seem to stay away from him.
Tobirama could understand really, where Madara was coming from. It had to be hard enough, being forced to live and work in close quarters with his brother's murderer day in and day out. He couldn't imagine doing the same if Hashirama's sword had struck true that day, had Madara not stopped him.
To begin lusting after said brother's murderer was inconvenient but could be explained away by hormones and libido and all that passive agression between the two of them needing some kind of outlet. But to grow to care for the murderer?
"What kind of person does that make me?," Madara had asked him once before, in a vulnerable moment.
"A person who is learning to move on," Tobirama had replied with equanimity.
Apparently, that hadn't been the right answer because Madara was on him in an instant, gloved hands a vice around Tobirama's neck as he pinned him to the wall of his home.
"And if it were Hashirama in Izuna's place? And I in yours?," Madara had growled back, "Would you have been able to do the same? 'Move on'?" His sharingan had been spinning wildly, chakra a roiling, alive thing roaring just beneath his skin like he was barely holding himself back from inflicting great violence on the Senju.
Tobirama had had no good reply to that. His feet dangled above the ground, he was quickly running out of air to breathe and Tobirama was just so tired. He didn't know how much longer he could keep this up. A million words had been stirring in his chest, straining to get past his lips. Apologies and condolences and comforting words but none of them could bring Izuna back. No words he could speak would truly ease Madara's heart. Not coming from the one who'd wielded the blade that had stolen the man's precious brother's life away.
Nothing could ever erase Tobirama's greatest mistake and deepest regret.
Turning his face away, he'd simply mumbled 'It was war. It was either him or I.'
The hands around his neck eased. The ensuing coughing fit as he tried to regulate his breathing hadn't concealed Madara's next words despite how deadly quiet they had been.
"It should've been you," the older man had said, icy cold and bitter before he'd spun on his heels and stalked out of Tobirama's home.
So really, Tobirama did understand why Madara did not, would not return his affections.
That did not make it any less of a bitter pill to swallow. Nobody likes being a dirty secret.
'And now here we are, months later, won't hold on, can't let go,' Tobirama mused bitterly. Nothing's changed. Or rather nothing's seemingly changed.
Tobirama wasn't blind. He knew Madara was not okay despite the half baked appearances he put up for Hashirama's sake. The misplaced guilt over Izuna's death, the added guilt over fraternizing with Izuna's killer, the perceived sense of failure over his inability to adequately represent his clan's interests by failing to be elected Kage, the paranoia about the Uchiha being marginalized over time in Konoha. It was all slowly eroding at Madara's sanity day by day and Tobirama had tried but Madara wouldn't listen. Not when he believed Tobirama to be one of the people conspiring against him. His own clan whispered about their clan head's excessive paranoia and creeping insanity. They couldn't understand why he wanted them to abandon a village he himself had founded, break a peace he himself had brokered. Their trust in him waned everyday and while Madara was many things, the man was not an idiot. He could see the Uchiha's declining regard for him. Very soon, there'd be little to keep Madara tethered to the village. He wouldn't stay.
Not for a clan that reviled him, not for a friendship he'd given up on years ago, not for a lover he wouldn't let himself love back.
Running his hands through the wild hair of the broken man buried against him, Tobirama pretended not to hear the wretched sobs wrecking through his body, pretended not to feel the hot tears running down the sides of his belly, pooling in his navel.
Pretended not to feel the tears running down the side of his own face as he silently mourned what could've been. What would never be.
"-kura-chan!" Tobirama caught the tail end of his name whined out by a childish, tinny voice to his right as he was abruptly jarred back to the present. Slowly blinking heavy eyes, it took him a moment to re-orient himself as he looked around blankly. In the next moment, he realized that the whole class was staring at him. Tobirama barely resisted the urge to sigh out loud. While his episodes were disruptive, he'd learned to roll with them enough so as not to express any outward reaction. There could be only one reason why their attention was attracted.
'Stupid anija. Being noisy and making a scene as usual,' Tobirama thought peevishly. He was proven right when he heard another high-pitched 'Sakura-chan!' from beside him, accompanied by a little poke. Tobirama pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a moment to shush Naruto comfortingly before looking around at his unwitting audience, "Oh I'm fine, fine! Just a bit of a blocked sinus," making a show of rubbing his nose as waved one hand in a careless motion. The other children thankfully began turning away disinterestedly while the teacher just raised an eyebrow curiously and asked if she wanted to go see a medic-nin in the hospital nearby. Tobirama assured him she was fine for now.
Once she was sure the teacher's attention was no longer on her, green eyes swivelled over to look towards the direction that had started this whole mess to begin with, almost unconsciously like he just couldn't help it. She hadn't been expecting a pair of pitch black eyes to be staring back however.
Tobirama's eyes widened before they narrowed dangerously, lips automatically pulling down into a contemptuous sneer like a familiar knee jerk response to the person before he could stop it.
Sasuke jumped ever so slightly, understandably startled and unable to comprehend what he'd done to merit such a severe reaction. To his credit however, he recovered quickly, eyebrows furrowing in offense and lips stretching into what was probably an attempt at mimicking Sakura's sneer but only came out as an angry pout on the young boy before he whipped his head away.
Tobirama bit his lip, trying to suppress the laughter that wanted to bubble up his throat at the sight of that pout and the way the boy's spikes still seemed to bristle in affront even if he refused to look at her any longer. 'Adorable,' rolled through her head before she immediately berated himself for such a ridiculous thought.
He really hadn't meant to make such a disparaging expression at the boy. He'd just been looking afterall, curious like the other kids. But when it came to Madara, or whatever different forms he came in, Tobirama could seldom hold on to his more rational senses.
'It's for the better,' he told himself even as he a felt painfully familiar twinge inside. He would not make the same mistake twice. He wanted no comradery with the Uchiha. He wanted nothing to do with the boy.
Sasuke was just as much Madara as Sakura was Tobirama, perhaps even more so despite the seeming absence of any recollection of a past life. The man had the fortune to be reborn into the same clan, had the gall to even look a great deal like his former self even if all those sharp angles and high cheekbones were currently buried under layers of baby fat. But even if he was just an innocent child now, he would grow up one day.
And Tobirama knew only too well exactly what kind of man Sasuke had the potential to grow into, was most likely to grow into.
Tobirama had been gifted a great many sorrows and a great many gifts in life. Love was simply not one of them.
'And that's okay.' He had long made his peace with that fact. Green eyes narrowed in determination, directing one last sharp glance at the boy before looking back ahead. This time, he would not let his emotions cloud his judgement, he would not be wilfully blind to events playing out before his very eyes. 'I will not fail, I will protect my brother, protect myself.'
Small hands cleched into fists, ignoring the sharp bite of blunt nails digging into the soft skin on his palm.
This time, he would be ready.
________________________________________________
If he'd known how badly he was jinxing himself on the day he'd vowed to himself stay away from Madara Uchiha, he would've just kept his fool mouth shut.
Even as he inwardly thought all sorts of uncharitable things about Madara, outwardly, his face was a study in equanimity. After all, nothing annoyed the other boy more than Tobirama not getting annoyed.
"You should return my test papers Sasuke-kun. I've don't see what purpose they could possibly serve you." Tobirama eyed the boy warily as he spoke. Sasuke grinned impishly in response, oozing all the unrepentant mischief of an 8 year old.
"No," he said simply, holding the papers just within Tobirama's reach, trying to tempt him into reaching for it.
As if he would fall for such a juvenile trick. Tobirama refused to make undignified grabbing motions. It was beneath him.
"No," Tobirama repeated blankly, hoping his face conveyed exactly just how much of an idiot he thought the other boy was. Madara seemed to have read his expression, if that small frown was anything to go by before it smoothed back into that cheeky grin of before. "Come and get it," he coaxed, wriggling the papers. Tobirama sighed internally, wondering how he'd got himself into this situation.
Honestly, he should've expected this. Nothing quite got you Madara's attention as not giving him your attention did. The Uchiha were a proud, flamboyant people and Madara embodied these traits to a fault. Of course he wouldn't take well to being blatantly ignored, especially not after that little glare Tobirama had thrown his way on their first day.
Now six months later, Tobirama could finally admit to himself that maybe he regretted that action a little bit. Just a smidge. 'No doubt, he took it as a challenge,' Tobirama bemoaned. And to make it worse...
"Hey, leave her alone Teme! Give those back!" Hashirama came up behind her, nudging her to the side so he could shove his face up against the Uchiha and glare at him.
Possibly the most jarring thing about this lifetime so far was how much Madara and Hashirama seemed to not get along. In all fairness, Madara was still pretty much the same. All rough on the edges and prickly. It was Hashirama who had changed. Well, not changed all that much. He was still a loudmouthed, overly optimistic fool who spent most of his days with his foot in his mouth. But his approach to Madara, his responses to the boy were a far cry from what it used to be like.
Before, Hashirama would either ignore or just steamroll right over all of Madara's bristling and moodiness, shamelessly hugging the man, babbling cheerfully and endlessly to him or at him. Hashirama talked and Madara listened, whether he wanted to or not. When Madara would be upset, Hashirama would hover and worry and fret and whine at him till he broke down and spoke to him and then Hashirama would proceed to drown Madara in his positive vibes and smooth over any ruffled feathers. On the rare occasion that Hashirama found himself upset, Madara would get all sombre and sit down with the man, radiating calm and listen and talk to the man till he managed to get Hashirama settled. That was the dynamic of their relationship. Tobirama may not have understood a great many things about his brother or his lover but he had understood and respected their friendship, even if it took peace and the building of a village and far too many years for him to do so.
Tobirama watched the current pair of the two clowns. No more did the two hold the endless patience they used to have for each other's eccentricities. Sasuke was outright scowling now, all hints of playfullness gone from his expression as he sniped at the blonde boy. Naruto gave as good as he got, yelling loudly at the dark haired boy as he attempted to snatch the papers from him, apparently not above such things.
A part of him had resented their friendship for a great deal of his previous life. Logically, he'd been concerned that Hashirama's soft spot for the enemy would get him gutted one day, had later worried that Madara would use their friendship to take advantage of Hashirama. They'd been enemies for centuries. How could he possibly trust his childlike, unassuming brother with the Uchiha wretch?
Less logically, he'd resented Madara for taking his big brother away from him. Things between Hashirama and him had never been the same after Madara came into his life. And this was even before that day at the river. Hashirama had discovered a boy from another clan who had shared his dreams of peace and immediately decided he was a kindred soul. Had forgotten all about the younger brother who had supported and shared his dreams first, who had defended him against their father's wrath, had respected him even when Hashirama himself wouldn't give himself much credit. And suddenly, it was all gone. He was forgotten in lieu of stranger on the other side of the riverbank. That day at the river had just been the final nail in the coffin.
And finally, finally when the village was built, it was Hashirama and Madara's dream and Tobirama was nowhere in the picture.
Tobirama knew it was stupid to blame Madara for the way Hashirama had acted. He couldn't even really blame Hashirama for outgrowing his little brother. It was simply Tobirama who never outgrew his elder brother. Logically, he understood all this.
That didn't stop a part of him from being bitter at Madara for being freely handed what he'd yearned and worked for his whole life. For being allowed to be more of a brother to Hashirama than Tobirama could ever hope to be despite being born as the man's biological brother.
He'd be lying if he said that part of him wasn't the tiniest bit gratified to see them go off at each other now, even if the rest of him recoiled away from the childish, petty thoughts.
Tobirama cocked his head slightly, watching the two boys who had grabbed each other by their collars now as they bared their teeth at the other. Despite their explosive interactions, he knew it was not truly antagonistic. He didn't believe the two boys actually held any real malice towards each other. No matter the lifetime, Hashirama and Madara it seemed, would always find their way to each other. Only this time, it had developed into an unspoken friendship streaked with tough love rather than hitting it right off the bat like they had in their last life. Tobirama suspected it had something to do with their vastly different social circles. His brother was an orphan afterall (and if that still didn't break his heart everytime he thought of it since he'd made the discovery months ago) and Sasuke was the heir of noble clan, one of the founding clans at that. They had little in common. In the absence of similar backgrounds, war and strife and a mutual desire for peace and the other things they had bonded over last time, the competitive streak that had always been a part of Madara and Hashirama's relationship had taken over. A bit of childish rivalry more anything (mostly, courtesy of his brother) and this time around, she sometimes found herself with the dubious honour of being the catalyst.
It was honestly more annoying than vindicating really. Not when he knew the idiots didn't actually hate each other. He was a sensor, he could feel how tickled the two of them were, how much they enjoyed their banter, even if it was mostly overshadowed by their mutual chagrin.
Tobirama snorted. Fools.
"That's enough you guys. Stop it," he chided, finally getting in between and separating them with one hand even as he deftly snatched his papers back from the Uchiha's grabby hands with the other.
"Butt out Sakura- Yeah stay out of this Sakura-chan!" The two of them tried to tell her off, conveniently forgetting they'd gotten into their little scuffle over her. Tobirama glanced up briefly from his perfect scores to throw them a look that was highly unimpressed and murderous all at once, smugly satisfied when she saw them startle and quickly slink off in opposite directions.
Pleased, he looked back down at his papers. It had been quite the pleasant surprise, how well his disapproving expressions seemed to work on the two boys. His dirty looks had seldom garnered him favourable responses in his past life, the two hardheaded idiots too embroiled in their own mayhem to do more than spare him a passing glance. Now though, it worked like a charm. He'd suspect it had something to do with the two still being young, impressionable children. But he'd grown up with Hashirama. The thick skin wasn't an acquired trait. He'd been born obnoxious. He had a strong feeling it had to do with the fact that he was now a girl. He knew it wasn't always the case with civilians but shinobi were raised to respect women a great deal. He would never forget how Mito had been able to bring his brother into line with a single, withering glance. He remembered how many times both Hashirama and himself had been reined in by Touka without lifting a finger.
Tobirama smirked. He was rather beginning to enjoy his female body and the little perks it granted him.
This was going to interesting.
________________________________________________
"I really don't think that's a good idea, Ino-chan," Tobirama muttered uncomfortably, shifting against the tree they were leaning against.
Another unforeseen aspect of being born female - girl talk. It seemed he had once again, spoken far too soon. Apparently, a lot more went into being a believable girl than getting to boss around boys.
Hence why he was now on the fence on this whole being a girl business. Case in point..
"But he's so amazing! So cool!" Ino swooned, eyes shining fervidly as she stared at the aforementioned amazing person, hands clasped in front of her chest.
Tobirama very emphatically wanted to disagree. He knew exactly how not cool the person was. Being the only one who'd been the closest thing to an actual relationship Madara Uchiha had ever had his entire life as far as Tobirama knew (and Tobirama knew a fair amount of things), he felt he was more than qualified to make the assessment. The man was irrational, short-tempered, condescending and had a real sadistic streak at times.
He was also a great many other far more redeeming things but Tobirama stubbornly refused to think of those.
"He's a jerk is what he is. I don't know what you see in him." Tobirama replied instead, not particularly kind but definitely a step up from the far more uncharitable things he actually wanted to say.
The Yamanaka finally deemed to look over at her pink haired friend, eyebrows raised in disbelief as she watched her, far too shrewdly for an 8 year old, "Why do you even dislike him so much? You have to agree that he's really something else! Unless..." Ino trailed off.
"Unless what?" Tobirama bit out defensively, crossing his arms across his chest. He did not like the implications of Ino's tone. He could feel a warning prickle at his nape, his intuition was screaming at him that he was not going to like what was going come out of Ino's mouth.
Ino faltered slightly at Tobirama's warning tone but gathered herself admirably well. Raising her chin, Ino narrowed her eyes.
"You like Sasuke-kun too! You're just trying to drive out the competition!" Ino accused, one arm raised and accusingly pointing at Tobirama.
'What have I done to deserve this,' Tobirama thought morosely as he gaped at Ino. He really didn't want to deal with this. He'd only been trying to look out for his little friend. This was Madara Uchiha for all that he was currently wearing the face of an angelic 8 year old boy. He knew it was unfair to judge the boy based just off his past self's actions, but he wasn't making an idle assessment based on just a few off putting traits. Madara was a traitor and a criminal and vastly dangerous. That kind of thing wasn't skin deep and while he knew Madara wasn't born a horrid human being, he certainly had the potential to be one. He was not an easy person to be with. He wouldn't wish a man like Madara on anyone, least of all a dear friend. It was certainly not out of any desire to keep Sasuke for himself. One lifetime was quite sufficient for him thank you very much.
Of course, Ino had no way of knowing all that. How could he possibly explain it to a dewy eyed child?
It seemed he had taken too long to provide an answer and in that time, Ino had drawn her own conclusions. Lowering her hand back down to her side, fist clenched, Ino bowed her head, eerily quiet. Tobirama briefly contemplated correcting Ino's misconception but quickly discarded the idea, knowing it would only look disingenuous at this point.
"I see," the other girl murmured slowly, eyes shadowed. Tobirama resisted the urge to sigh loudly, not wanting to seem callous. It was just a schoolyard crush, one Ino would likely grow out of so really, the blonde was taking this far too seriously. He knew better than to voice these thoughts though. He knew first-hand how sensitive children could be. Blatant disregard for their feelings (no matter how trivial it may seem to an adult mind) did nobody any favours. Ino was just a child and for all intents and purposes, so was Sakura.
Finally raising her head, Ino looked directly at Sakura, determination etched into the small face. "I cannot give up Sasuke-kun Sakura. Not even for you." Stepping back, Ino pointed a finger in her face again, "From today, we are rivals. Be prepared!" She declared before turning around and running off.
Tobirama watched her go, absently fiddling with the end of her hairband, the one Ino had gifted her, encouraging her to let her forehead show, to not feel so conscious of her features. Tobirama smiled ever so slightly. The simple, mindless kindness of children. There was a reason he loved them so much.
'Arigatou, Ino-chan.'
Finally taking her eyes of the retreating blonde, Tobirama cast his gaze back to the subject of their conversation, her source of eternal turmoil.
Sasuke remained blissfully unaware, completely absorbed in his shuriken practice. They'd been relieved from the Academy a while back but Sasuke, being the dutiful little shinobi that he was had stayed behind for some extra shuriken practice. Being a genius was still 99% hardwork after all. Talent did not give you a free pass on effort. It seemed Madara had, among other things, carried his admirable work ethic to his second life as well.
No scratch that. What was he thinking? There was nothing admirable about the rascal Uchiha.
Tobirama shook his head, trying to clear his head of the unwanted thoughts. Of course, he wouldn't be having these unwanted thoughts hadn't it been for Ino who'd wanted to stay behind just because Sasuke was staying back and by extension had made Sakura stay back.
'And now she's ditched me and run off god knows where.' He mused, more exasperated than annoyed.
"What are you doing here?" A curious voice asked above her. Tobirama looked up, startled. He'd been so engrossed in his thoughts he hadn't even noticed the smoky chakra of the Uchiha boy approaching him. Tobirama blinked a couple of times, slightly disoriented before his eyes narrowed when he registered the question.
"Last I checked, this is the Academy practice area and I'm fairly sure you do not have exclusive rights to it Uchiha." He snarked, scowling. While Madara always managed to get under his skin with barely any effort, he usually did a better job of keeping his composure around the man. Face blank and voice flat even if he was seething on the inside.
Today however, he had far too much weighing on his mind and very little patience for one of Sasuke's attempts to pick a fight with him.
However, as she continued to look at the boy, she realized that cheeky grin he wore when usually attempting to rile her up was absent. He didn't look smug for having managed to annoy her so quickly. Rather, the boy was frowning, looking a little hurt by her snappish reply.
Her thoughts were confirmed when the boy replied, shoulders hunched and hands tucked into the pocket of his white shorts as he kicked at a little rock on the ground. "No need to get all prickly. I was only asking because I don't usually see you here after school. Why are you always so grumpy, taking everything I say the wrong way. I was just trying to make conversation," He groused, bottom lip sticking out as he looked off to the side.
Tobirama gawked at the boy for a few seconds. Grumpy? Take things the wrong way? This coming from the boy who never gave up an opportunity to rub her the wrong way. An irrational anger flooded Tobirama. It was just like Madara to do this. Do things to piss people off and then getting mad when they responded in kind.
When Madara finally looked back at him, Tobirama was glowering at him. "Don't act as if you know me. You don't. And there is absolutely no need for you to make conversation with me Uchiha. We're not friends. I don't want to be friends with you."
Getting to his feet, Tobirama brushed the dirt and leaves off her dress before reaching behind her to pick her backpack off the ground. When she returned her gaze to Sasuke, the boy was frozen, a stunned expression on his face that was quickly blooming into anger if the bright red spots on his cheeks and furrowing eyebrows were any indication. Even so, his big dark eyes shone with hurt as he stared at Sakura.
Ignoring those eyes, Tobirama chose to focus on the rest of his face, his scowling mouth that was opening to, no doubt, launch into a lengthy angry rant. Hurriedly, Tobirama cut him off before he could get going, unable to stand another second around this confusing person and all the confusing emotions he made her feel. "Just stay away from me." She growled, matching his glare before stalking off in the direction of home, decidedly not thinking about the dulled, gloomy chakra signature at her back.
Madara Uchiha could throw himself off a cliff for all she cared. What concern was it of hers?
________________________________________________
Reaching home, she barely muttered a greeting at her parents before brushing past them. She needed to be alone right now.
Stepping into his room, he didn't bother with the lights, simply dropping his backpack beside the door before treading over to the window. At 6 years of age, he was just tall enough to place his arms along the sill, resting his head on his folded arms as he peered at the darkening town below.
He didn't know how long he'd been standing there, leaning against the window. It must've been a while because the sun had completely disappeared from the horizon, the pinkish-purple haze of twilight traded in for the milky glow of moonlight. He was just contempating heading downstairs to see about dinner when he felt it. A powerful wave the likes of which he'd never felt before in this life, felt a scant few times in his past life.
Fear. Anger. Torment. Pain. Death.
Tobirama staggered, only keeping his feet under him because of the window he was leaning against. He was no stranger to death. Being a sensor made him far too acutely aware of it. Aware of exactly what people felt when they were in their last moments. The shock of being a dealt a fatal blow, a split second denial followed by a crushing acceptance. Some felt frustrated and furious, not ready to die yet, not ready to let go. Some felt relieved, glad to be rid of their hellish existence. Some died so quickly they never made it past the intial awareness of impending demise. Then there were the long drawn out deaths, people who were bleeding out, people whose comrades were trying to save them. Those were the worst, full of anguish and turmoil and nostalgia and pain pain pain. It was all far too common during war.
Then there were times when it was just one seemingly endless cycle of suffering, multiple people dying at once, at various stages, in various ways. The kind where people were caught unawares, were being slaughtered like pigs in an abbatoir.
Nothing left him reeling quite like those.
Tobirama was nowhere at his full sensing capacities at his current age, did not know if he would ever be with this body like he'd been at his prime back when he'd still been a Senju.
Which was why he couldn't really sense much beyond his immediate neighbourhood unless he was really straining himself. But this, this massive pulse of grief, of chakras being snuffed out like candles in the dark was so potent, so strong he felt it all the way from the other side of the village. There was no doubt, he knew those fiery, smoky, incandescent chakra signatures far too well to make a mistake.
Despite the overwhelming barrage against his senses, one thought continued to ravage his mind, sent blades of icy fear through his veins, thoughts of a little boy with big dark eyes and a bigger bright grin.
Sasuke. Please be okay.