Work Text:
Normally, Madara really didn’t give a rat’s ass whether or not the prickly Senju made an appearance in the tower. His duties kept him away from the offices and out and about Konoha anyway, hardly stopping by his own despite how, miraculously, his paperwork always got finished, and could be seen more often barking orders at the hospital, academy, and other separate administrative buildings than at the center of power in their village.
This, however, wasn’t any normal day, nor was it a normal meeting the man was currently missing.
Fingers drumming and eyes hard on the idiot giving them a damned lecture - who the hell he thought he was lecturing him the gods only knew - waiting and waiting for the snippy response that wouldn’t come.
Tobirama would have been the only person qualified to snap back about the water duct system. Not that he was personally involved in the project (surprising as that was, since the nosy man wanted to be involved in everything) but much like Izuna (to a lesser degree) he had a habit of finding any information he might need for the meetings, sniffing out potential misquotes and lies that the informants might be purposely leaving out or misdirecting them from.
How he found all the documents he would look through for the meetings, Madara wasn’t sure, but he also knew he wasn’t doing it in any legal way. Sneaking about and searching through classified documents - he’d lie if he said he wasn’t impressed, but he was mostly impressed that the man found the time to put so much effort into every little thing in his professional life.
No wonder he didn’t have a husband or wife though.
It was only the blessed cup of artisan coffee he’d had that morning, a gift from the Uzumaki woman from her last trip back to her islands, that kept Madara from burning the place to the ground to not have to deal with the man and his damned lecture. When he finally let them be in peace and quiet Madara let out all his aggravation in a deep and grumbling sigh, pushing himself back up to his feet and trying to ignore all the popping evidence that he was far too old for this shit.
The resident talking sunflower was not in nearly the right sort of mood after that two-and-a-half hours long anger induction. He was all beams and loud chitchat when he came flouncing up to walk next to Madara, already on about something he really didn’t have the energy to discuss at the moment, needing another cup or three of that coffee before he could even consider keeping up with whatever was spewing out of the Senju’s mouth.
But now that Hashirama was here with him... Madara side-eyed him as they walked down the hall, drowning him out in favor of his own thoughts. If anyone would know why the other Senju hadn’t been there to save the lot of them from that snobby ass, it would have to be his brother. Tobirama was a recluse at the best of times when it came to his personal life so it wasn’t like he had friends or secret lovers to gossip about his activities or health. Not that Madara really cared much beyond curiosity but it was curious, and now that it had officially affected his own day he couldn’t get it out of his mind. What had kept Tobirama away from the tower that afternoon? Was there something ailing him?
“Your brother’s slacking off.” Hashirama finally stopped talking long enough to breathe, following Madara right into his office even though there was no doubt plenty enough to do in his own. “Better not play any favorites and let him get away with that shit.”
“Who, Tobi?” Hashirama plopped himself down in one of the spare chairs in that way that made Madara’s eye twitch, the man facing the wrong way and his arms crossed over the back of it so he could hum and haw with his head resting on them. “Not like him to slack off. He’s probably just busy.”
“‘Probably’?” With an extra narrowed squint Madara seated himself at his desk properly, not dropping down in the chair like a child, and got to work organizing the mess his own brother had made of his desk earlier that morning. “What, don’t know what your own damned brother’s up to?”
“Not usually.” As if that wasn’t the most bizarre thing in the world Hashirama poked at the chair, bored, leaning forward until it was supported on only its back two legs and his own. “Though I guess I haven’t heard from him in a few days now.”
Scratch that, that was the most bizarre thing Madara had ever heard. He didn’t quite process it for a few moments, certain he hadn’t heard it right because Hashirama really really hadn’t just said - “You haven’t heard from him in a few days? And haven’t thought to, oh, I don’t know, hop on down the road and make sure he was still breathing?”
“No?” The fact that the idiot had to phrase it as a question was rather telling, and had Madara grinding his teeth. But apparently he was determined to dig himself into a hole because he kept going, still bored, still poking at the chair as if it was more important than his own damned brother. “He just does that. Holes himself up in his lab or takes a self-appointed mission. If he’s ever sick or injured he always comes to see me, so I know he’s okay.”
Never in his life had he thought Hashirama, of all people, would neglect a family member. He had to remind himself to breathe, frustration boiling through him far worse than it had in that blasted meeting room and making him want to break his nice ceramic mug right over the top of the idiot’s head.
“You don’t know he’s okay, you absolute washrag!” Madara hissed at him and gave into the urge to throw something, opting to wack him in the forehead with a scroll - and didn’t even find it funny when the idiot yelped and fell backwards from it. “You assume he’s okay, and- you can’t just- go check on your damned brother! A few days without hearing from- gods I can’t even look at you right now, get out, go make sure his heart’s still beating!”
“He’s fine, Madara, I’ll just be bothe-”
“Don’t you even start with that!” Madara tossed yet another scroll at the idiot, and tossed another for good measure when the man tried to shield his face with his arms. “You’re the eldest! You’re supposed to be a bother! Now go bother him until you know he’s fed and had coffee and slept at all in the past 24 hours, or I’ll make sure you’re fed to the koi!”
At least he was listened to. Hashirama went out with a slouch and his usual pout, looking back over his shoulder as if expecting it to gain him sympathy - and only gaining yet another bruise via hurled paperwork.
Madara still felt irritated even after his office was shut up tight and he was the only one in it. He eyed the scrolls scattered around the floor now, tempted to leave them there until the log inevitably came back. Let him pick up the mess he’d caused. But, he needed them, and with more bone popping and groaning he got back up and fetched them.
The man would be lectured further later, of course, on the high importance of family and what an elder brother’s responsibilities were. There was simply no way in hell Madara would stand by and watch the man squander a perfectly good chance at staying close with one of his brothers. Both of them had lost too many to let that slide on by.