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Tobirama kneels in the dirt, digging his fingers into the soil that nourishes his brother's gift.
He doesn't have anything like the mokuton, he has no talent for growing things, and he doesn't bring life into the world.
No, he ends it.
His hands are stained with blood and, because of a moments carelessness today, that blood was almost Madara's.
The thought of the man he's come to love, dead on the ground because of him... it's unbearable and he violently rips out another weed.
No, he has to train harder, be better.
Today must never repeat itself.
"Tobirama." Madara's steps are just as soundless as any shinobi's should be, but it's hard to sneak up on a sensor and Tobirama doesn't flinch to hear his name spoken. "You're unhappy."
Yes.
Yes, he is unhappy.
How could he be otherwise when Madara took a blade for him? It's only thanks to Anija's ability to heal that Madara still lives and breathes.
"Do you... not want this?" Gloved fingers touch his wrist gently, and Tobirama looks up into eyes that are a perfect match to his own.
Instead of the Sharingan so common in his clan mates, the Uchiha who are the other half of this village, Madara's eyes now bear empty circles where the famous tomoe should be. Tobirama doesn't know why the change happened - there are still secrets which are kept hidden and unrevealed despite the peace which has grown between the two clans - but he knows when.
When Madara saw a blade aimed at his back, and took steps to preserve his life.
What he saw haunts him, almost as if he were the one to have a Sharingan instead of his beloved, and Tobirama shakes his head to dispel the memory.
"You don't want this." Madara pulls away abruptly and Tobirama frowns in confusion. "You don't want me."
He doesn't want Madara?
That's both manifestly incorrect and has nothing to do with the situation.
"I want you to stay alive," Tobirama corrects, unwilling to let the misapprehension stand, whatever it is. "I want you to be whole and uninjured. Most of all, I want you to never sacrifice yourself for me."
"I can't promise you that, and I never will." Madara's smile is gentle, but it's also tinged with a sorrow that makes Tobirama's heart ache to see it. "You're a blessed, and any Uchiha who was in my position would have done the same."
"That's exactly what I don't want!" Tobirama can feel his temper snapping. "A blessed - no matter what that is - isn't worth your life!"
"It's because you are a blessed that you're worth my life, Tobirama." Madara reaches out, cupping his cheeks, and Tobirama looks into eyes that he knows will read the truth of his heart. "More, you are my blessed, a gift to me, a match to my soul and the love of my life."
What.
They are soulmates?
Tobirama doesn't even know if he believes in soulmates, but this entire peace rests on him and his peculiar position as an affianced bride to one of the Uchiha - though the question of which Uchiha has always been left unanswered.
And if Madara is offering himself... well, Tobirama is not fool enough to refuse.
"You wish to marry me?" He flares his chakra, checking for genjutsu just to be sure this isn't a dream. "Madara, are you sure?"
"As sure as the sun's rising tomorrow." Madara doesn't pull him in, but Tobirama leans forward anyway, resting their foreheads together. "You're my world, and never would I want another."
"Nor would I." There's no reason to resist anymore, and Tobirama breathes the truth of his own heart against the lips which he's wanted for years.
"Madara... I love you."