Work Text:
Hashirama was like a sunflower, tall, bright, and beautiful, at least in Madaras opinion. He was silly and could get upset or melancholic. But eventually, as quickly as in seconds at times, he’d bounce back to his sunshine self. That’s how his best friend was. He loved him for it, truly. Hashirama was a beacon in this world of hate and cruelty. So as they build their village together, they only grow closer and closer. Izuna constantly teases that Hashirama has practically moved into the Uchiha compound, what with how much he visits, sometimes thrice a day. Tobirama would have to drag him back home. It was embarrassing and the onlookers giggled and gossiped.
So since they made the village back in spring, this would be the first winter they would be together in, not on the battlefield or hidden away from the harsh climate. No, this time they had a village in which both clans and now several more would shelter and protect one another. But much to his utter surprise, Hashirama started to get more into a dark funk, even what one would call depressed as a yamanaka had told Madara. ‘Seasonal depression.’ His hashirama lacked the energy from earlier months and being overall slower, would prefer to stay indoor, underneath blankets. It was a sad picture. He even stopped eating and that terrified Madara so much, he had even learnt to cook just so the man wouldn’t starve to death but Hashirama refused.
It’s why he now stood under snow fall, carrying a bag of dangos in hopes that maybe this time his...lover would eat. He didn’t understand what was going on. He would be patient, waiting however long it took for Hashirama to just smile, a true one. Tobirama said he’s been like this since forever, the worst days being when it was either raining or snowing. The cold penetrating deeply into every muscle and joint. Today happened to be one of those days. Scarf tucked around his face, he marched on home, knowing Izuna had left to train with his genin team. It made him scoff, one brat training more, it was a nightmare. It didn’t help that Tobirama had one and the two compete their students against one another. Danzo was one of the half pints from Izunas steam with Hiruzen being on the pale bastards team, and those two constantly fought, trying to outdo each other. It was annoying.
Now entering the Uchiha compound, he saw Hikaku sitting in front of his house which confused him.
“What’s wrong?” Madara asked bluntly, no room for a simple greeting. Hikaku was unphased, used to his clan's leader behaviour.
“I wanted to hand over you a report and I entered and well...I heard soft crying. I figured if it was you. Well with your sensor abilities, you’d have stopped long before I made it in,” Hikaku said, looking rather distrubed. Hashirama was crying,
crying
. With a quick thanks and a shove to the side, he was in the home. Hikaku looked unsettled but decided to leave it to Madara, having done his temporary job of playing guard.
Madara practically sprinted to where he knew the Senju would be and the sight wrecked his heart. There sat Hashirama, robe all cruppled and hanging off one shoulder, tears running down his face, nose red as well as his cheeks, snot being wiped away by a sleeve. He kneeled down and placed a hand on the other man's shoulders. Asking if he was alright.
“Are you hurt? Did Izuna say something to you? What’s happened? Please tell me,” He said, barely taking in a breath before finishing. Hashirama looked at him and whimpered before tossing his whole body onto Madara, sobbing. It terrified him to be honest. He has never seen the Senju this way, not once. No...He recalls a time when he encountered Hashirama when they were still children hunched over and crying. It was when he lost one of his brothers. Madara knew that pain, having lost brothers himself until he was left with only one. Did something happen to Tobirama? No, he would have heard of the news instantly. When he got no reply, he sighed and let the man bawl himself tired. Madara would be here, holding him.
“Kawarama and Itama should be here,” He heard, voice muffled by the way he had his face buried into the Uchihas robes. He recognized those names, the dead brothers, having been told their names at some point. The ones who hadn’t made it past childhood. He now wasn’t surprised to find the man crying over his long gone brothers. They would forever haunt his memories as Madaras family does.
“I remember the day I found you crying when you’d lost itama. It is unfair they can’t be here, I know,” He said, running one hand down the back of his lover. Soothing him, telling his it would be alright.
“I should have been there for them!” Hashirama said, sobs intensifying now. His robe was now soaked but he didn’t care, the man needed him.
“Maybe you could have fought beside them but you were a kid and would have most likely died. I wish the same thing as well for my brothers. Don’t blame yourself, you can cry, mourn, but blaming yourself when you know you were not capable, it won’t help,” Madara said, hoping his words broke through the dense fog of depression and sorrow that Hashirama had over him. Then again words alone couldn’t perform miracle work, they just aided in the process of healing.
“Want to light some incense and pray for them. Afterward we can eat the dangos I brought, does that sound good to you?” Madara asked, voice gently. He was prone to yelling and cursing, especially towards Hashirama who could easily take it but not now. Hashirama pulled back, a lone tear running along his jaw. WIthout a second thought, Madara wiped it away. It earned him a small smile but it was enough. Anything from Hashirama was enough. They got up, the Senju more slowly, fatigue written across his whole body and leaned more on madara as they walked. Madara set up an altar and they prayed and once done, they sat at the table and ate, Hashirama leaning his head down on Madaras shoulder.
“Thank you, for being here with me,” Hashirama said softly and it made the other man's heart squeeze.
“Well, you are in my home,” He joked, which earned him a playful pinch and laugh.
“You act tough but you’re the sweetest man ever,” Hashirama said, placing a kiss on his cheek.
“You and my brother are my most special people,” Madara said, this time kissing the other man on the lips, earning a sigh and arms wrapping around his neck. Madara knew the other man would do all he could if he was in a dark place to get him out. Maybe mess up here and there but still, he’d try. So Madara will too. Always.