Chapter Text
I am two fools, I know,
For loving, and for saying so
In whining poetry;
But where's that wiseman, that would not be I,
If she would not deny?
Then as th' earth's inward narrow crooked lanes
Do purge sea water's fretful salt away,
I thought, if I could draw my pains
Through rhyme's vexation, I should them allay.
Grief brought to numbers cannot be so fierce,
For he tames it, that fetters it in verse.
~
Tobirama had been waiting nervously in his office the entire morning. It was nearing noon and he knew Madara had most likely seen and read his letter by now, yet he hadn’t been confronted yet. It was concerning. He had never been the best at expressing his affections verbally, so he decided to write a letter and leave it on Madara’s desk to explain how he felt. So maybe Madara saw it as cowardly and was ignoring him because of it? Tobirama cursed himself for not having the guts to confess in person. He could face down legions of enemy shinobi without fear, but the idea of telling Madara to his face how he felt had his palms sweating and heartbeat escalating.
A knock sounded at his door. “Come in,” he called, recognizing the chakra signature as one of the various genin pages the administration had hired. The young boy entered his office, barely standing in front of the doorframe.
“Uh, Tobirama-sama, Madara-sama has requested your presence in his office. He didn’t tell me why, though,” the page told him. Tobirama nodded, doing his best to conceal the sudden spike in his anxiety.
“Thank you very much. I will be there momentarily,” he said, dismissing the boy. The genin bowed and exited the room, off to perform some other task for one of the other administrative workers. Tobirama took a deep breath and stood up. It was time to face his fears.
When he arrived at Madara’s door, he decided to knock instead of barging in as he normally would. He would admit to himself that he was most certainly stalling. A gruff voice told him to come in, and so he did with shaky hands opening the door.
As soon as Tobirama entered the room, he was pinned to the wall. He almost lashed out until he realized it was Madara, and he felt no malicious intentions in the other man’s chakra. He forced his breathing to remain steady.
“I read your letter,” Madara said, staring him in the eyes as he loomed over him. “I must admit, it was unexpected.” Madara was very close, chest nearly pressed against Tobirama’s own. The proximity set a fire alight in his stomach, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do. “But when I read it, I came to realize something that I hadn’t even thought of before,” he continued, leaning in even more until their faces were not even a centimeter apart. “You are so…” lips almost brushed his, then veered off to the side to whisper in his ear, “gullible.”
Tobirama felt a cold weight settle in his chest as realization dawned on him. Madara pulled back, grinning at him and his reaction. His horror and embarrassment must have been plastered on his face because the next thing he knew, Madara was laughing at him. Laughing at him. As if it was all…
A joke. This was a joke to Madara. The random acts of kindness, the soft smiles in the halls, the invitations for lunch-- it was all a joke, and Tobirama had never felt more humiliated. His face burned and a lump formed in his throat, but he tried to pass it off as anger.
“If you’re done fucking around,” he croaked, cursing his voice for betraying his emotions, “I have work to do.” And with that, he turned away and swept out of the room, down the hall, and to his own office, leaving behind a stunned Madara who gaped at the spot he once occupied. He locked himself in there, closed the blinds, and activated the silencing seals he had in place. As soon as he was certain no one could be witness to his next actions, he broke down. Collapsing into his chair, he heaved a great sob and began to cry for the first time in a long while. When was the last time he had cried? Why did he feel so much anguish in this moment? Why was he shedding tears over Madara, of all people?
The answer was simple. Tobirama loved him. He loved the man like he had loved no other person before. Sure, loved Hashirama, and Mito, and Touka, and his students, but-- Madara was different. This was an all-consuming, passionate, aching love that made him feel like he was flying and drowning all at once.
But Madara treated it like it was nothing. He treated Tobirama like he was nothing, and it hurt . It hurt so bad because he had never opened himself up to another person like he had with Madara, even if it was through a written letter. He had never made himself so exposed and vulnerable. He had never taken that chance. Until now, that is. Too bad his attempts her spat back in his face with mocking laughter.
So Tobirama cried. He cried and he cursed and he wished so desperately, pointlessly, that he could take back the words he had let Madara read, so that the man could have never had the chance to know how Tobirama truly felt. Because Tobirama wasn’t supposed to feel. He was a soldier, a tool for his village; he was born and bred to be perfect, and to never falter. Butsuma had drilled this into him, and even if Hashirama had never treated him with the same emotional detachment that their father had, old habits die hard. He was a weapon, but he had failed because he had shown weakness.
He vowed then that he wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
~
It had been nine days since Tobirama’s written confession and subsequent heartbreak. The albino had done his utmost to avoid Madara, and so far, it had succeeded. Any necessary communication had been done through Hashirama or one of the pages, and it had all worked out. However, it eventually came time for the monthly clan head meeting. He made sure to arrive just before the meeting started-- Madara was always early-- and left just as it ended, making sure not to linger. He had almost rounded the corner when a strong hand clamped down on his shoulder and pulled him into an office.
Tobirama twisted out of the grip and was about to whip out one of his hidden kunai when he saw who it was. Of course, it had to be Madara. He immediately slipped into a the stony facade that he had crafted many years ago, not letting a single emotion slip past his barrier. “Do you need something?” he asked, voice monotonous.
“I need you to quit avoiding me!” Madara huffed angrily. “It’s fucking annoying, and Hashirama has been pestering me about ‘getting along’ better with you.” Frustration bubbled up inside of Tobirama.
“Ah, yes, because that worked out so well last time,” he rolled his eyes. Madara scowled.
“It’s not my fault you took everything so seriously! For fuck’s sake, why would you think me being friendly was some sort of declaration of love,” the Uchiha growled. “Hashirama is always complaining about us fighting, so I was just trying to extend a peaceful hand!”
“By acting as if you actually cared about me? You could have just spoken to me to make a truce of sorts! I would have listened, if it was for my brother’s sake,” Tobirama exclaimed in response. Madara raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s the only reason you would have listened,” he muttered.
“What was that?” Tobirama’s voice was deadly quiet. Madara simply barked out a laugh.
“ I have never had the opportunity to hold such feelings for someone before ,” he started. Tobirama froze with wide eyes. “ I know deep in my heart that these emotions are genuine .”
“ Stop ,” Tobirama whimpered. But Madara didn't listen. He was too heated up from the argument to be reasonable.
“ I find that I cannot wait any longer to tell you, for I am incredibly in-- ”
“STOP!” Tobirama shouted, cutting him off. He breathed heavily, shoulders shaking and chakra spiking wildly with emotion. Madara looked at him in surprise, not expecting such a violent reaction. “You’ve already made a fool of me once; you don’t need to do it again!”
“Shit, I--” Madara started, eyes wide in shock.
“No! Just-- I trusted you. I bared my heart to you, and you mocked me!” Tobirama was red in the face and his eyes stung, but he continued on, unable to stop the flow of words. “For so long I hid my feelings from you because I knew that they wouldn’t be returned, but then you were suddenly so kind,” his voice broke, “and I thought that maybe, just maybe , I had a chance.”
“Tobirama--”
“I know we never got along well. I know that you dislike me, and think me heartless.”
“What are you--”
“But I just don’t understand what I did to make you hate me so much that you would feel the need to humiliate me on such a level!” Tobirama was panting by the end of his speech, and the tears he had been holding back spilled down his cheeks. Madara was looking at him with shock and… guilt? No, Tobirama wasn’t that hopeful anymore.
It was silent for a few moments that felt like an eternity as Tobirama caught his breath. Madara just stared at him until he was able to gather his bearings enough to speak.
“I’m sorry,” he said, voice soft. Tobirama flinched. “I didn’t realize-- fuck , I messed up.”
Tobirama just looked away. “Don’t-- just don’t,” he whispered.
“No, I mean-- I’m sorry ,” Madara continued. “I thought my actions would be taken differently. I thought you still hated me, and that my being kind would disgust you! And then the letter-- I thought you were joking!”
Tobirama sighed, now exhausted from his outburst. “Please, just-- leave me be.”
Madara remained quiet for a moment. “Okay,” he said. “I won’t bother you anymore.” He turned to exit the room, but paused at the door. “Take care.”
He left, and Tobirama had never felt so tired.