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“It’s not all so bad,” Izuna grumbles, tugging at his ponytail like he always does when he’s thinking. “It’s- it’s good to see people, even- even Senju, not flinching as soon as they see an uchiwa...” He lets his words trail off and shrugs. “For the children that’s gonna be their normal and... that’s something.”
Madara leans forwards to look at his brother properly. Izuna isn’t meeting his gaze, but instead lets his eyes wander aimlessly through the room. He seems a bit... lost.
“Our village isn’t only for the children, Izuna,” he says, voice gentle.
Izuna snorts. “I know that, Niisan! You tell me often enough, anyway.”
“You seem to need the reminder.”
“Hey!”
Madara sticks his tongue out and enjoys the hilarious outrage on Izuna’s face at seeing one of his favourite expressions turned against him.
His brother’s face turns pensive. “He also deserves a reminder or ten. About a lot of things, really.”
Madara sighs. There’s no question who Izuna is talking about. “Talking about Tobirama once again? It’s almost like you enjoy finding imaginary faults in the man...”
Izuna chokes and sits up straight. “How dare you! I do not-“ He blinks and interrupts himself. “...do I?” He suddenly doesn’t sound very sure.
Madara laughs and then holds a hand up before Izuna can attempt to murder him. “Sometimes you do,” he says, “but... sometimes you’re also right about it, too.“ He shrugs.
“A lot of times,” Izuna huffs. “But maybe I do talk about Tobirama a lot, yes. It’s understandable, isn’t it? After all...” He makes a vague hand gesture and doesn’t meet Madara’s eyes. “And well, he mostly pretends I don’t exist so the point is moot.”
Madara can tell his brother’s mood has gone sour again—it would be better to distract him. “What do you think about the new plans for the Village’s defensive strategy?” He finally asks, casting about for a topic that Izuna is certain to have opinions on.
Izuna brightens up immediately. “It was clearly put together by someone who has only a vague understanding of how battle works, potentially via a third-hand account, and-“
The door slams open half a second after a perfunctory knock. In storms Senju Tobirama. “Uchiha,” he says briskly, staring at Madara, “get going, you can’t miss this meeting.” He’s frowning, which is about the only expression Madara has ever seen on his face. He isn’t sure whether that says more about Tobirama or about himself.
“Who taught you manners,” Izuna says in a mocking tone. “Oh wait—no one.”
Madara can’t help but grin fondly. Izuna’s own manners usually take a downward turn as soon as Tobirama is involved.
Something flickers in Tobirama’s eyes. “Well?!” he demands, crossing his arms.
“Yes, I’ll be there, Tobirama,” Madara agrees, but doesn’t make a move to get up yet.
Tobirama stares at him for a moment longer. “Fine. Have it your way,” he says with a huff. Then he whirls around and leaves the room as suddenly as he entered it.
“Yes, go run all your little errands for Hashirama,” Izuna calls after him, voice still mocking.
Madara raises an eyebrow.
Izuna raises his right back. “What? He doesn’t care. It’s like he doesn’t even see me.”
Izuna is almost glaring at the other side of the village square from their seats at the tea stand.
Madara hesitates and then presses ahead. “Do you ever wish you’d- that you had a family? Like that?” He nods to where Hashirama is swinging his happily shrieking daughter up on his shoulders.
Izuna gives him a look. “Do you?” Then he sighs. “I don’t think I’d be very good at- ... at the husband thing.”
“Monogamy too much for you?”
Izuna snorts. “Niisan!”
“What? I’m right! There’d be so many broken hearts...”
Izuna shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “Something like that, yeah.” He glances over to Hashirama and Mito with their daughter again. “Children, on the other hand...” he says, almost wistfully.
For both Madara and his brother, the topic of marriage and especially children had been a fraught one while they were still at war with the Senju. The Clan Elders used to keep pushing, of course, but Izuna had strong opinions on leaving potential children orphaned too soon—the Clan had had so many orphans back then already. And privately, Madara thought that perhaps it would be best not to continue their particular bloodline. Their Mangekyo was a heavy burden to bear that neither of them wished on anyone else, after all.
“Well, there’s Kagami,” Madara says after a long pause.
Izuna brightens up immediately. “There is! Isn’t he the cutest little firebug around?!”
Madara tilts his head, considering. “I remember someone else having the firebug part down. Though you weren’t all that cute...”
Then he leans over and steals some of Izuna’s namagashi right off his plate while his brother splutters.
“I was the cutest Uchiha around, and you know it,” Izuna finally manages to say, tossing his ponytail back over one shoulder. “In fact, I still am.”
“Mhmm,” Madara responds, still munching on his stolen sweet.
Izuna huffs and stares at him for a long moment. Then he rolls his eyes and shoves his entire plate closer to Madara. “Eat!” his brother grins. “I’m not hungry.”
“No wishes this year, Niisan?” Izuna asks him, nimbly dodging a group of screaming kids running past them. So far these have been the only ones interrupting the two of them here at the edge of the festival.
“And what would I wish for?” Madara says, shrugging. “Don’t I have everything I want?”
His brother laughs. “You do, huh.” His eyes still keep straying to one of the nearby bamboo decorated with their Clan’s wishes for the coming year. The trees will be set aflame later, of course—the children always look gleefully forward to that part— but for now they look cheerful and festive.
“You helped Kagami with his wish earlier, didn’t you?” Izuna then asks him.
Madara nods, smiling at remembering the stubborn look on Kagami’s face. “His calligraphy has gotten a lot better,” he adds.
Izuna smiles at that, too, but he’s still looking somewhat wistfully towards the bright lights in the center of the Festival.
A playful mood takes Madara. “Do you want me to win a prize for you... Izu-chan?” he asks.
Izuna whips his head around, face caught between sudden outrage and laughter. “Niisan!!!”
Madara raises an eyebrow. “What? I distinctly remember you begging me for more prizes all those years-“
His brother slaps a hand across his mouth to interrupt him. “Prizes are for children, Niisan!” He shakes his head. “It’s been a long time since any of us have been children.”
They exchange a long glance before Izuna removes his hand, sighing. “We’re getting old, Niisan.” His smile comes back, edging into a smirk, and his hand comes up again to flick Madara’s temple, where both of them know a few grey hairs have recently stolen their way in.
Madara rolls his eyes and bats the offending hand away. “You still don’t look a day over twenty.”
“... He’s always so happy on these days,” Izuna remarks quietly. “How does he do it, I wonder?”
Kagami really does look happy, skipping across the paved street towards them with an ease that shows off his recent Shinobi training.
“Today I brought plum sake from Obaasan!” Kagami exclaims when he has reached them, beaming widely.
Besides Madara, Izuna goes still. “Oh. That’s my favourite...”
Madara manages a small smile for Kagami and offers a hand. “That’s wonderful, Kagami.”
None of them say anything more until they reach the cemetery.
Izuna is lingering behind them, dragging his feet, but Madara gives Kagami an encouraging pat on the back. “Go on, you know the way.”
He watches the boy skip ahead as he follows.
And then finally, Madara, too, reaches the grave marker with the one name on it he never wanted to have to read there.
Kagami is already excitedly recounting his day, chattering happily while he cleans off what little dust and debris accumulated since their last visit.
“You know,” Madara starts and then tilts his head back to stare at the sky. He doesn’t want to look at Kagami while saying this and he definitely can't look at his brother. “Izuna was truly lucky. For all his life, he had his brother at his side. Not a single day without me, can you believe that?” He closes his eyes. “But me—I have to— I will have all these days... my entire life without him, and that’s—that’s just—“ He chokes and cuts himself off. It’s not fair, he wants to scream, but the Uchiha Clan Head can’t break down yelling in broad daylight, and so he doesn’t.
Silence and the sweet smell of incense fill the air. There’s always incense burning on Izuna’s grave, no matter what day and time Madara comes here. He sometimes wonders if it’s because that many other people still come here, too—or if maybe someone placed an inconspicuous seal somewhere to ensure it.
A small hand grabs his. Madara opens his eyes again and blinks tears away to stare at Kagami’s determined face.
“But you’re not alone!” The boy exclaims. “You still have me!”
Then he smiles.
And his smile looks just like Izuna’s.
