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It truly was a sight.
Never would Tobirama have thought that he would witness this, that this was even possible, in his lifetime even.
The night was cold, but the atmosphere in Konoha was anything but. Stalls lined the village plaza, vibrant lanterns and bright lights strung between them, casting a warm glow over the festivities. The air hummed with cheerful voices, laughter weaving through the night like a beloved melody.
People of different clans, side by side. Smiling. Laughing. At ease.
As if they hadn’t been at war just barely a year ago.
He doesn’t know what kind of expression he’s wearing, but he knew it could never fully convey the quiet pride swelling in his chest. The village had become something beyond what he had ever dared to hope for. Something he once thought was an impossibility. Just a faraway dream of an outrageously optimistic boy who just couldn’t bear to lose anymore brothers.
Anija has truly outdone himself this time, he thought as he strolled along the path. A brief smile crossed his lips before he continued walking. Now that the village is strong and standing, it was up to him to protect this dream. Just as he promised his brothers. He was just about to finish his third round around the festival’s perimeter when a voice stops him.
“It wouldn’t hurt you to relax too, you know?”
Tobirama had sensed him long before he spoke—that bright, hot, searing chakra signature cutting through the throngs of people. He just hadn’t expected him to come his way. There was no reason to. No unfinished work, no obligations to pull them together. He’d made sure of that.
And yet, here he was.
As much as he wanted to scoff at the remark, he found himself doing the opposite—internally chastising himself instead.
Relaxation breeds complacency.
Just because the air was warm, the atmosphere easy, and everything felt like the life he had longed for, didn’t mean the world had stopped turning. Danger could still come.
“I’m on patrol duty,” he said instead. “I’m busy.”
Madara scoffed, though not in derision. It struck him then that it hadn’t been for quite some time now. When did that happen?
He had never hated the Uchiha—whether the clan as a whole or the singular man standing before him—despite what his reputation may suggest. Though, in hindsight, the narrow-eyed stares he had thrown Madara’s way and their relentless verbal sparring in every meeting during their early days of being reluctant coworkers probably hadn’t helped his case. But he couldn’t help it.
The man was infuriating.
And he had terrible eyesight.
That was it. Definitely.
Now, after about a year of working together, Tobirama supposed he could classify Madara as an amicable coworker. In fact, he might even be his favorite, given the man’s surprising acuity and admirable leadership. He’s certainly better than Anija in being timely in his work.
It also didn’t hurt that Madara was kind. He had always known that much; the love his clan bore him made that clear. He just hadn’t expected that kindness to be extended towards him.
After countless late-night work dinners, trade negotiations, and seemingly endless overtime, Tobirama could almost call them friends. And so, when Madara appeared beside him tonight, he didn’t immediately assume he was being criticized as he would definitely have done a year ago.
This time, it just sounded… teasing. Amusement laced his voice—clear as day now that Tobirama had gleaned more of his personality than just being a perpetually angry hedgehog. He still is, but he’s also more.
Dare he say, there was something almost fond in the way Madara spoke. But surely, he was imagining things. Perhaps living in peace is making me soft.
“Relax. Nothing bad will happen.”
Tobirama scoffed. “Last year, Anija went on a drinking spree and built a wooden tower for Mito-nee.”
Madara chuckled at the memory. “It wasn’t that ba—”
“It was in the middle of the village,” Tobirama deadpanned.
“Well—”
“The daimyo and his relatives were in attendance. They all saw our Hokage drunkenly profess his love for his wife from the rooftops. An entire forest rose from the ground, Madara.”
Madara exhaled a laugh. “Okay, that was funny.”
“I had to deal with the embarrassment of explaining to the daimyo that the village was in good hands. We’re lucky they were gracious enough to be understanding.” Tobirama crossed his arms. “Stop defending Anija just because he’s your best friend.”
Madara laughed again, his eyes glinting with mirth as he took in Tobirama’s barely concealed pout. “Good thing you’re here then.” He smiled, as if there was something unspoken between them. Something shared. As if they were more than former enemies turned begrudging allies turned coworkers.
“And I’m not defending him”, the older man continues.
Tobirama frowns and raises a disbelieving eyebrow.
“I’m not!”, Madara defends himself though sounding more amused than anything. “I just-… you can relax too you know. This--”, he gestures around “is due to your hard work, just as much as it’s ours.”
Tobirama doesn’t respond, unused to being praised. After a moment, Madara continued, filling the silence. “Besides, I think your brother learned his lesson after your… gentle reprimand.”
That was an understatement. Tobirama had nearly gutted Hashirama for the scene he had pulled last year. He certainly deserved that water dragon.
“Also, I doubt anyone would be foolish enough to attack Konoha with all its strongest fighters gathered here.”
Madara smirked, looking at him beneath dark lashes.
Tobirama rolls his eyes despite the blush threatening to take over his face.
“Maybe, that’s an advantage for them.” Relaxation breeds complacency, he repeats to himself. He cannot let this fail.
“Hmm…I’ll just come with you then. You can take it easy; I’ll take care of you, don’t worry. I won’t let anything bad happen.”
Tobirama resisted the urge to look away, warmth creeping up his neck. Now he’s sure he’s blushing. Damn his albinism. He could only hope Madara would chalk it up to the cold night air.
He doesn’t know why but he feels comforted by Madara’s words. Finding solace in a former enemy’s reassurance shouldn’t be as comforting as this, he knows. But they have been working together for almost two years now, and Tobirama finds that he quite likes Madara. Perhaps even more than necessary.
He shakes his head, not allowing himself to stray to that dangerous train of thought. He knows there’s only hurt waiting for him if he allows himself to hope.
“You shouldn’t be here patrolling with me.”
Madara raised an eyebrow. “And why not?”
“Well,” Tobirama shrugs, “You should be out there enjoying yourself, Madara. You deserve it after the hard work you put into this festival.”
Madara hummed. “As do you. Besides, I am enjoying myself.”
Tobirama rolled his eyes. “I’m sure Izuna would like to celebrate with you.”, he tries. “I also think I heard Anija looking for you earlier.”
“Let them be. They can wait.” Madara’s voice was smooth, uncaring. “I’m not particularly inclined to move right now. I quite like where I am.”
Fireworks bloomed in the distance, casting fleeting colors against the night sky. The resounding chimes of children’s laughter floats in the air. The echoes of the festivities bathing the village in life.
And yet, despite the liveliness surrounding them, Tobirama’s senses seemed oddly quiet. His world reduced to the man beside him. Stubbornly, he allows himself to hope.
Madara exhaled softly, glancing at him with something unreadable in his expression. “Besides,” he added, voice lower now, “the view is nice here.”