Chapter Text
"- and that's everything on the agenda, so thank you for coming and I'll see you all again next month." Madara picks up his notes, tapping them on the table as the rest of the board climbs out of their chairs and heads for the door.
"Hm, I'm still not sure about the BRAIN investment." Otousan is one of the only two men who don't rise, and his frown communicates his unhappiness. "Investing in a computer program that identifies pastry of all things... is there ever going to be a call for it?"
"You clearly don't do your market research, Tajima." Tobirama's father is smug as he taps on the prospectus. "A bakery offering a hundred items sells almost twice as much as one selling thirty, and unwrapped pastries, sitting in open baskets, sell three times as well as individually wrapped ones. This is an investment in efficiency... and the future."
"Hmph." Otousan grunts, obviously unconvinced, but disdaining to debate further with the former CEO of Senju Enterprises. "We'll see what kind of results they produce. I'll see you at my house for the new year of course, Madara."
"Excuse me?" Butsuma-san remains seated but raises an incredulous eyebrow. "They're coming to my house for new year, thank you."
Oh gods preserve him.
Madara winces as the two fathers glare at each other, both unwilling to give in. He's been subjected to more of these scenes than he'd like since his marriage to Tobirama united Senju Enterprises and the Uchiha conglomerate into the Konoha Corporation, but at least they were always about business decisions.
This though... this is personal.
He looks around, hoping for assistance, but the way everyone avoids his eyes and the room is clearing even more rapidly than before indicates everyone else recognises the danger signals as clearly as he does.
If only Tobirama were here! He's really the only one of Butsuma-san's children who can out stubborn his father, and, if all else fails, he's always willing to argue.
Forever, in most cases.
But no, even presented with the most tempting offer Madara could contrive, Tobirama had declined to be involved in the results of the merger, announcing that he'd rather teach idiot undergraduates than mediate between their fathers.
Honestly, there are days when Madara doesn't blame him and today looks like it's shaping up to be one of them. He's sorely tempted to throw them both off the board but he can't actually do that to the two largest shareholders, no matter how much he wants to, so his only choice is to make this work.
Somehow.
Madara winces at the way they've progressed from merely glaring daggers at each other across the table to verbal sniping, and says the first thing that comes into his head.
"We're having new year at my house!"
Dead silence falls over the meeting room as both of them stare at him blankly, and he takes a deep breath before committing himself to what he's sure is going to be a farce of epic proportions.
"We're having dinner on new year's eve at our house," he repeats, more calmly than before. "For both families."
"Well." Butsuma-san looks dubious but at least seems somewhat accepting. "I suppose Tobirama will want to spend time with your brother."
"Not that they don't do that every day." Otousan can't resist the jibe, but he's not willing to do any less than Tobirama's father and he agrees readily enough. "Fine. I'll see you at your house, and I leave all the arrangements with your siblings in your hands."
He sweeps out of the room, the long sweep of his coat flaring dramatically, and Butsuma-san rolls his eyes expressively before standing as well. "You'll talk to Hashirama about this, of course."
Madara nods, hoping to avoid making any more promises that he'll later have to keep, and Tobirama's father shakes his head as he too makes for the door.
Madara collapses into his chair as soon as he's alone, and rubs his palms over his face.
Both families. In his house. For new year.
Why is he doing this again?
Oh yes.
Tobirama.