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Tobirama swept a look over the ninja gathered in the pavilion - neither clan had brought any civilians with them, not that there were many in either of their clans. Generations of war had driven them to be a warlike people - for defence, for survival, for revenge.
He watched his own clan at least as much as the Uchiha. Perhaps more. The Uchiha banded behind their clan head and his family - his brother, their cousin; all that was left, a dark mirror to Tobirama’s own family - in a way the Senju had never thrown themselves behind Hashirama. Tobirama had heard mutters from his spies about their lack of faith in Madara . . . but even those whispers had faded in the months leading up to the first peace messages he and Hashirama had exchanged.
Tobirama inclined his head as his gaze lingered on Hikaku’s face - not quite meeting eyes, but close enough to be polite. The Uchiha did not expect anyone across clan lines to meet their eyes, he knew; Tobirama knew Hashirama did, but that . . . would come in time, for others, at best.
Tobirama moved closer as Hikaku opened the case of brushes, beginning to mix the ink for signing the treaty himself. It was a not unfamiliar routine, by now; they had performed the same services opposite one another through the first cease fire and multiple agreements after, and today they were preparing it for a treaty. The first document that would become the backbone of their yet-to-be-built village.
Hashirama whined, soft but excited, as Tobirama slid the ink over, and he smiled slightly, giving his brother a tiny nod. He drew himself a little taller as Madara approached on the other side, and Hikaku and Tobirama stepped out of the way.
Hashirama signed it, then bowed as he passed the brush to Madara, who did the same and bowed as well.
“Madara!” Hashirama cried, and Tobirama cleared his throat softly, flaring a tendril of his chakra towards his brother - Madara would sense it, but it should reach no one else, and he knew Hashirama; he would likely understand. Hashirama checked himself, then extended a hand rather than completing the lunge he had just set himself for.
Madara huffed softly, clasping Hashirama’s hand as they closed the space between them, shaking hands. Then they stepped back a little, and Tobirama moved forwards as Izuna came up by his own brother’s side.
Izuna hesitated, but Madara nudged their shoulders together and he nodded shallowly, approaching Hashirama. Tobirama held out his hand as Madara turned to him, and Madara snorted softly, lifting his jaw and taking Tobirama’s hand in a warm, firm clasp.
Tobirama returned it politely, to a precise degree, then released Madara’s hand promptly.
. . .only . . . he didn’t.
Tobirama stilled, breath catching, and looked down at their hands. Madara’s was still wrapped around his own . . . and his own fingers were curled around Madara’s just as snugly. Tobirama’s heart jolted and his eyes darted back up to meet Madara’s.
Squarely, properly, because. . .
“Oh fuck.” Tobirama muttered, and Madara’s lips twitched, almost a smile even as he tugged at Tobirama’s hand. It had no effect, of course.
Tobirama lifted his free hand and pulled at his wrist, then his own fingers - there was no danger even as the backs of his fingers brushed Madara’s hand; they wouldn’t grow any more stuck.
“Yes, yes, I’m happy too, sure!” Izuna snapped, not sounding happy at all. “Or I will be if you hold to your word.” he added, which was more than a bit rude, and some of the Senju muttered about it, but Tobirama wasn’t at all surprised. He had grown to know Izuna across the battlefield and then across negotiating tables - he was defensive and abrasive, and he used those traits as both a gauge and a weapon.
Hashirama assured Izuna they would, he brushed it off a little less rudely, and Madara failed in his own attempts to free his hand from Tobirama’s. His shock at their . . . bond was settling, though it kept him still as he watched Madara try again to release him.
“Otouto! Madara!” Hashirama said cheerfully. “Isn’t it such a happy day?”
“Certainly, Anija.” Tobirama said tightly. “I am very pleased with the next step after our long negotiations and much hard work.”
“Yes, yes, it’s a great day.” Madara said gruffly, and tugged discreetly at Tobirama’s hand again. Their clasp did not, of course, come loose.
“Well, move on. . .” Izuna said, circling behind his brother and eyeing them. Tobirama was supposed to be shaking his hand, now.
That . . . was not going to happen.
“Tobira? Is everything all right?” Touka asked, stalking closer.
“Oh . . . fine.” Tobirama said, searching Madara’s gaze again. “I apologise, however, Izuna-san. I will not be shaking your hand today.”
“Excuse me?” Izuna demanded, eyes narrowing, and Madara huffed.
“We’re stuck.” Madara grouched, shoulders twitching.
Hashirama gasped, hands flying up to his face. Touka yelped, then- “Oh kami!” she cried, beginning to cackle, the horrid woman.
“You’re soulmates!” Izuna said, quick and hard.
“So it seems.” Tobirama twisted his arm, their clasped hands.
Hashirama threw his arms around both their shoulders, hauling them into an embrace. “Oh! I’m so happy for you!”
That was more than Tobirama was sure of for himself. He hummed, squinting dubiously and looking down at where Madara’s fingers were curled around his hand.
“Get off!” Madara bellowed. Tobirama had been waiting for that. “This is,” he voice hitched, “enough already! Hashirama!” he shouted again, not quite thrashing under Hashirama’s effusive embrace.
“I’m so happy!” Hashirama said, voice over-loud in Tobirama’s ear.
“You’re heavy, get the fuck off!” Madara shouted, throwing his shoulder down and shoving Hashirama off with the kind of grace that only came from experience with Hashirama, ninja or no.
“Senju!”
Tobirama turned his head to look at Izuna, brows rising, ignoring Hashirama being thrown almost to the ground on their other side.
“Tobirama-san,” Izuna amended, but his eyes were fierce as he came close. “Don’t you dare try cutting off Aniki’s hand to get free!”
Tobirama blinked. His eyes widened. “We just signed the document to begin a cooperative village between our clans under the auspices of peace and mutual reliance.” he said dryly. “Obviously I would not. Not to say I did not consider the option, of course. . .”
“Hey!” Madara bellowed, yanking at Tobirama’s hand.
Tobirama raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze again, and he bared his teeth. Tobirama had to stifle a laugh, despite the situation.
“. . .how long will you be stuck?” Hikaku asked cautiously, and Tobirama froze.
“Oh. . .” Tobirama cringed. How long soulmates were locked together varied based on their chakra - civilians locked for a few minutes at most, some ninja for hours. . .
“How long did he and that sea-witch of his spend locked?” Madara asked swiftly, voice low, tipping his head towards Hashirama.
Tobirama flinched. “Just . . . a little over,” he swallowed, “six days. Almost seven.”
“A week?” Madara’s voice was nothing approaching low any more.
Touka collapsed to the floor, howling with laughter. “You’re- You’re going to be stuck like that! For-!” her breath gave out in peals of laughter.
“We’ll be stuck for how long?” Madara yelled, jerking at Tobirama’s hand.
“Not a week, I’m sure.” Tobirama grimaced. “Probably only . . . four or . . . five . . . days.” He rubbed his face with his free hand, then pinched the bridge of his nose.
“How am I supposed to piss like this?” Madara shouted. “Or, fuck, sleep? Eat?”
“Madara-sama!” Hikaku said, sounding scandalised, though surely he was used to his cousins.
“When I get free of the loud hairball, I am going to beat you!” Tobirama snapped at Touka, who was shrieking, kicking her feet with gleeful amusement.
Izuna made a strangled sound, then cleared his throat, and Tobirama’s eyes cut to him; that had sounded . . . almost like a laugh. Izuna scowled at him.
“Maybe, but I’ve got at least three days before I need to start running!” Touka tossed back, her humour not at all dampened.
“Where will they go?”
“What?”
“They’ll be locked for days, they’ll-”
Hearing the chatter starting to build from their clanmates, Tobirama looked back at Madara, whose expression was showing faint unease.
“Back with us, obviously. Madara-sama is our Clan Head.”
“We may be at peace, but this is too new-”
“Tobirama-sama is not going back with you!”
Madara grimaced slightly, and Tobirama sighed, feeling the same weary exasperation.
Tobirama was also keenly aware that if their clanmates continued on this path. . . It would be all too easy to slip back into the kind of distrustful fighting they had been struggling against to get even so far as they had managed today. They barely had a fragile basis of trust on the few points they had sworn to thus far.
Tobirama and Madara locking like this could not be allowed to somehow undo that progress. Regardless of Hashirama sobbing with delight over how auspicious it was both for the two of them and for the peace, the village they had all come together to work towards, few others showed any hint of such happiness.
. . .not the least of the reasons behind Tobirama’s determination now was his desire to see if he and his soulmate - his soulmate, Tobirama had wondered for years if he would ever have one or how he would feel to find them - could work together.
“We could . . . stay here.” Madara said, voice low, gaze flicking out across the temporary pavilion erected for these meetings.
“We could fuck off while they’re arguing and not paying attention,” Tobirama countered immediately, hardly thinking, “and camp out somewhere. Alone.”
That . . . it had been a reflex, but it actually sounded. . . Tobirama wasn’t sure he was ready to be alone with Madara, let alone for an extended period, but - his gaze flicked to their lock, their clasped hands - it sounded like a good start. They had to begin somewhere, to get to know one another, didn’t they?
“Don’t tempt me.” Madara said, voice low, and Tobirama stifled a laugh, lips twitching. Madara’s eyes darted up to meet his own again, and Tobirama cleared his throat quietly.
“Getting to know one another is a good use of the time the lock enforces. . . Is it not?” Tobirama suggested.
Madara made a gruff noise, ducking his chin, but Tobirama was a little surprised, interest piqued, to catch the slight hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Their clanmates continued to argue around them, growing a little louder, Izuna and Touka getting into it now, and Hashirama just beginning to shift from his own delight to realise not everyone was reacting the way he would like. Tobirama sighed.
“Izuna! Hikaku!” Madara bellowed, and Tobirama suppressed a twitch, looking up at him again. “They’re in charge this week, until I return!”
Tobirama stared at him. He’d thought it was not a bad idea, but he hadn’t actually anticipated. . .
“Madara-sama, surely you are not going to the Senju?”
“No.” Madara answered his clansman without looking around.
“Tobira!” Touka moved closer; Tobirama could see her narrow-eyed look and the dangerous prowl as she moved from the corner of his eye, but he wasn’t looking away from Madara. “Are you going to them?”
“No.” Tobirama said flatly.
Hikaku cleared his throat delicately. “. . .what are you doing?”
Tobirama smirked. “We’re going to fuck in the woods alone for a week.” he said dryly, and Madara spluttered, making a loud, high-pitched sound. Hikaku choked and Izuna screeched, and Touka jerked sideways into the table and made a satisfyingly painful-sounding choking noise herself. “Or,” Tobirama continued, “we are leaving to spend the week alone and get to know one another, without one or both of our clans involving themselves - and making it a disruptive period for everyone including us. Take your choice which you prefer.”
Madara huffed noisily and Tobirama arched an eyebrow, shooting him a playful look without thinking. He answered it with a faint smile, relaxing visibly, and one of the knots of wary tension in Tobirama’s chest began to ease, just a little.
Maybe, just maybe, they could make this work together. . .
“Tobiii!” Hashirama wailed, and Tobirama tensed.
“Right now.” he said, lifting his chin. “We are leaving right now, to be specific.”
Hashirama hauled himself up from his happily sobbing heap on the floor, turning fully towards them, face shining with tears that were still coursing down his cheeks.
“Madara I swear, if you do not get moving right now. . .” Tobirama muttered, just as his brother wailed Madara’s name. Why oh why had Mito refused to come today?
Well, he knew why, but he hadn’t regretted it until . . . this.
“Nope, let’s go.” Madara agreed immediately, fingers sliding over Tobirama’s wrist, not quite tugging at him.
“Someone tell Mito-nee what happened, accurately, or-”
“I will. I’m not stupid.” Touka added, snorting, as they slipped through Madara’s clanmates towards the edge of the pavilion. “One of you is bad enough, you’d both make my life hell if she got inaccurate information.”
“Aniki-!”
“It’s fine, Izuna.” Madara said, firm and quick but not unkind. He paused, steps hitching for a moment. “I’ll send one of the birds with word.”
“You’d better!” Izuna said, slowing and letting them go without further protest.
Moving together, once they were free of the crowd of their respective clanmates inside the pavilion, was easier than it had any right to be. Even with the complication of the way they were locked with their clasped hands.
Tobirama had led the way initially, but silently deferred to Madara’s choice for a place to stop, and quietly hoped that this was a positive sign for- for them.
Madara only just managed to keep his steps from hitching as they approached the site where there were clear signs of construction in places, and clearing land in others - for building, for growing things.
Tobirama’s fingers tightened around his hand with a gentle stroke that settled his nerves with amazing speed. He glanced sideways, catching his soulmate’s crimson eyes and finding an almost playful light in them. Tobirama’s lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile, and then he looked away, back towards what would one day be their village.
Someday soon.
Madara’s heart squeezed. They had spoken about this already, he reminded himself, but he did not wish to let Tobirama go, to be apart from him for. . .
“Anija will need to be reined in,” Tobirama said with a sigh, “that is not remotely a logical layout.”
“You anticipated that.” Madara observed dryly. So had he, though he’d been forced to admit that before Tobirama brought it up at one of their meetings - Hikaku’s long-suffering face rose in Madara’s memory; he had thought of it - Madara hadn’t considered the logistics of a village either.
“Sometimes I like to pretend to hope.” Tobirama countered wryly, and Madara laughed. “Mito, however. . .” His eyes narrowed in a glare at the wooden frameworks Madara could tell at a glance were horribly jumbled.
“Perhaps she is angry with you for disappearing without word?” Madara suggested carefully. Or angry to have found out that Tobirama had locked with him.
Tobirama snorted. “More like she didn’t feel like being the one to chase after Anija all over the area. Undignified.”
Madara shook his head, huffing a little, but before he could respond-
“Aniki!” Izuna yelled, already running for them.
His cry alerted everyone in sight that they were back, and Madara braced himself even as he grinned at his brother. He was an obnoxious brat, but Madara loved him dearly.
“Oh kami, they’re still locked?”
Madara didn’t catch who had spoken and didn’t recognise the voice, but Tobirama was not quite glaring at one of the Senju, so Madara assumed it had been him. Tobirama huffed.
“Don’t be an idiot, that is not how they were locked!” Izuna tossed over his shoulder, and then Madara startled, cutting a glance towards Tobirama, as he suddenly released Madara’s hand. Madara reached-
Izuna slammed into him and Madara laughed as he threw his arms around his brother in return, squeezing hard. He buried his face in Izuna’s silky hair, spreading one hand over his brother’s back, and Izuna relaxed in Madara’s hold, letting himself be half crushed and cuddled tight.
“Glad Senju didn’t do you any harm.” Izuna said, and probably most people would read his tone as abrasive and perhaps even hateful, but. . .
Well, Madara knew him, better than anyone. “I think you might like him, given a chance, otouto.” he said softly.
Izuna cocked his head, eyeing Madara with narrowed eyes. “. . .you’re. . .”
“He’s my soulmate.” Madara said, clearing his throat, glancing over at Tobirama, his heart throbbing. Tobirama was lingering nearby rather than going in search of his own family, but he was clearly trying not to intrude.
“Welcome back, Madara-sama . . . Tobirama-sama.” Hikaku said politely, and Madara released Izuna, though he kept one arm around his brother. His right hand strayed thoughtlessly towards Tobirama, and just when he wondered if he shouldn’t, on the verge of pulling back-
Tobirama clasped his hand, twining their fingers. “Thank you. Touka is gone, I imagine?” he asked, and Madara looked at him, startled.
“Oh! Ah, yes, Tobirama-sama. She took a mission two days ago. . .” Hikaku sounded surprised as well.
Tobirama grinned, feral and sharp. “That’s all right. I can hunt her down once I straighten out Anija and we settle things here.”
“She actually ran?” Izuna said blankly.
Tobirama looked at him and Madara thought probably that look would make most peoples’ blood run cold. His own was feeling uncomfortably heated.
“Touka is a smart woman.” Tobirama said lightly. “Though foolish enough to think running will save her my wrath.”
“Are you actually going to beat your cousin?” Izuna asked suspiciously.
Tobirama’s smirk sharpened. “She’ll wish I had.”
Izuna eyed Madara. He arched his brows. “Yeah you might be right.” Izuna admitted in a low mutter, and Madara laughed, rubbing his thumb over his soulmate’s knuckles.
“Shall we go find my brother?” Tobirama asked, and Izuna hummed.
“I’ll take you to him.” Izuna’s eyes dropped to their clasped hands. “This should be fun.”