Chapter Text
Madara sat on the engawa, musing about the most recent developments. Everything went well, and yet he feared there could be expected some sort of ‘encouragement’ from the council. Ever since he got that letter specifying the conditions of the signing in the next round of talks, the withering rats grew less and less satisfied with his reluctance to stake a claim. He heard whispers travelling across. He also stopped getting the demands.
Objectively speaking, the Senju was already his. There was no denying this simple fact. It was acknowledged by the clan, and his future spouse was already integrated into the structure quite seamlessly. The only complication that remained was official recognition. For these purposes it had to be confirmed in front of witnesses, preferably with a priest.
Frankly, the notion of having to prove it to anybody was idiotic to begin with. Tobirama was his from the very moment that he stepped foot into Madara’s house, at the very least because as common knowledge stood, nobody that wasn’t his own was allowed inside to begin with. There was defined etiquette concerning the reception of guests, and also political hostages, and past certain point it was regarded as improper to intrude on the host’s hospitality unless there was some previous underlying condition. Like, say, a prolonged pre-negotiated stay of a distant relative. Or, in his case, marriage.
At least that was how Madara justified his small, rapidly progressing, obsession to himself. Hashirama might not agree with him on this one, but who cared about that oaf either way.
“What are you brooding about again?” Izuna flopped down right beside him, their shoulders nearly touching.
“There are unreasonable expectations placed upon me,” Madara sighed bitterly. He was concerned beyond reason with the immediate halt in correspondence. Even though the demands were always unreasonable, it was better when he knew what to expect.
“Ah,” Izuna grinned, tilting his head, “it’s about the council, as always. What now? Did they find another way to pester you across long distances?”
“Izuna,” Madara looked to the side, feeling unease seep in without restraint, “there might be dark times waiting ahead.”
Izuna looked at him for some while, the silence comfortable between them. Then, at last, he said, “Are you afraid of rejection.”
Madara sputtered. “Can you not be serious for once in your life?!” he hissed, “I’m trying to tell you something important here!”
“Keep your important things,” Izuna waved him off. “I always annoy you for a reason. Who will keep your sanity intact if not me?” he leaned his head against Madara’s shoulder. “Now tell me, should I go and confess in your stead?”
Madara didn’t restrain himself as he hit the brat on the back of the head. Izuna doubled over, snickering horribly and nearly biting his tongue off in the process.
“Ow-ow-ow-ow… You’re so mean, Aniki,” Izuna whined, scratching at the wounded place.
“Like hell I need your help with anything of the sort,” Madara glowered, contemplating if Izuna needed another wallop just to be sure. “Keep your hands off what’s mine.”
“I’m glad you’re feeling better already,” Izuna half-sobbed dramatically, “always at your service, such a great brother I am.”
They sat bickering like that for some time, and Madara had to admit, he did feel quite a bit better, the council’s ministrations not bothering him much more. Izuna had this quality about him, probably the only good one he had, to always take off the edge. Even if Madara wanted to strangle him for the better part of their lives, it always was a breath of fresh air. Sometimes that was all that was needed – a quiet comfort of familiarity.
At some point there sounded the footsteps, Hikaku rushing towards them hastily.
“Madara-sama, Izuna-sama,” he called, a roll of paper squeezed tight in his hands as he approached them. He was panting heavily.
“What is it?” Madara asked, his head rested on his fist. At this point he actually hoped that wasn’t council again, because his mood just got good enough for murder.
“A biju has been spotted,” Hikaku heaved, clutching at his chest. He must have ran quite a distance from the mews then.
“Which one,” Madara perked up, lowering his hand. Those were exactly the news he needed right now.
“Kyubi,” Hikaku said, unfurling the leaflet. “Here, there is the location and its most recent movements across the surrounding area. It always returns to the same spot after a hunt.”
“Perfect,” Madara felt his lips stretch into a manic grin. Now he was almost all set. “By Amaterasu-omikami’s grace, this plan is going to work out.”
“Aniki, I’m starting to think that you didn’t disclose all of the details previously,” Izuna gulped, looking at him with such suspicion as if he suddenly found out his dog was actually a cat.
Madara chuckled mildly, “All you need to know is that we are going to win.”
“It seems I’ve thought too highly of myself,” Izuna said carefully, his nose scrunching warily at his words, “so I take it back. Nothing can help you. You already are insane.”
***
For a while it was quiet in the cellar, only the rustling of the candles’ flickering flames coursing through the air.
Tobirama stared at the corpses, his hand supporting his chin. Something wasn’t right. He couldn’t grasp the way to not just cover them but also get them up.
Back when Tobirama requested his required research supplies from Madara he didn’t really think about how and where exactly he was supposed to perform said research as though not to disturb the residents of the household. He didn’t at all consider what performing the dissections in the annex would entail, and so when Madara had approached him with an offer to go somewhere and look at something, Tobirama ended up being particularly distraught.
“I have no desire to go under the house, Uchiha,” Tobirama hissed, struggling against the hands that gripped him by the shoulders and pushed him down the staircase.
“What are you afraid of,” Madara gritted out, putting more force into the shove, “there’s only one life to lose.”
“And I do not feel like losing it now,” Tobirama grasped at the wall, his fingers slipping gradually. “If I go down there, there’s no guarantee I’m ever coming back.”
“Please,” Madara scoffed, pushing more insistently, “you can trust me, Senju. If I’m going to maul you, then only the tiniest bit.”
“That is not much reassuring,” Tobirama gave up a step, his muscles screaming from strain, “have you actually decided to lock me up in a dungeon at last?”
“I might if you continue this farce,” Madara bit out. “Come along, would you? I’m trying to make you a most generous gift here, so enough of that!” He shoved Tobirama so abruptly, that he actually stumbled and almost flew head over heels down the stairs. The fall was blissfully cut short by Madara gripping at his bicep and steadying him, after which he strode down, yanking Tobirama along as well. There wasn’t much possibility for resistance anymore.
The path ended in a spacious dimly lit room, with two tables set in the middle of it and some cabinets positioned along the walls. They were even half-filled, and Tobirama recognised every single object they held.
“It cannot be,” he breathed out. A hand circled one of his shoulders, a silhouette leaning in.
“Well? Where’s my thanks?” a voice purred into his ear.
“Did you really empty the cellars for this?” Tobirama asked incredulously, unsure of how he should breathe. That was suddenly a bit harder than he remembered.
“Well,” Madara shrugged. “There was nothing much important here anyways. Just some ancient dusty tablet that I’ve had no desire to clean.”
Tobirama quirked his brow. Did Madara just dispose of some heirloom? Ancient relics aside though…
“You might have overdone it this time,” Tobirama said under his breath after a moment, feeling immensely pleased with this matter. It made him feel a certain sentimental urge that was strangely akin to wanting to punch someone in the face. He supposed that must have been the feeling his Anija described as what made him attempt to embrace anyone that came far too close.
“Now you can’t complain about the state of my hospitality,” Madara sighed, his breath catching on Tobirama’s skin. “So, Senju? I’m waiting.”
“My gratitude is endless,” Tobirama huffed, rolling his eyes. Absolutely insufferable individual.
“Right,” Madara snorted, finally releasing him and moving away. “When you see Mito next time do not forget to tell her of how great of a host I am. I do desire to see her expression then.”
“What did Aneja do to you?” Tobirama quirked his brow suspiciously. “You only saw her once.”
“Tried to stick her nose between me and mine,” Madara smirked. “But that doesn’t matter much. Well, Senju, was there reason to be so doubtful after all?” he shook his sleeves out and crossed his arms, tilting his head to the side. And looking far, far too smug.
Tobirama scoffed. “You did grope me just now. Should I tell Mito-aneja of that as well?”
“Ah,” Madara snorted again, “maybe after the treaty is signed. I’m sure that would also be quite amusing.”
“You do enjoy starting blood feuds,” Tobirama shook his head slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“A good fight is a good fight,” Madara shrugged. Then he untangled his arms, looking in the direction of the entrance. “I suppose I shall leave you to your own devices then. Do not sit for too long, or I will have to drag you back the same way I’ve dragged you in here.”
“Yes, yes,” Tobirama murmured inattentively, already shuffling through the cabinets. “Take three meals a day, sleep at night and don’t forget to air regularly. I’ve been there before. Promise not to test any poison gas.”
“What?!”
Oops.
“I mean,” Tobirama coughed slightly, “everything’s under control. You don’t really have to check.”
“Oh, Senju,” Madara drawled, “now I will make sure to check.”
So at this moment Tobirama stood inside his new, very graciously presented to him, lab and looked at the corpses. Which he didn’t bother to ask after the origin of, because who cared for miniscule things like that. He spent far too many days stuck with the same problem and was unsure of which side it was best to approach it from as to not accidentally mess everything up. The knot was not yet untangled.
There was a noise of a door creaking open suddenly, and the quiet shuffling of steps down the stairs, approaching at a haste. Tobirama brushed the signature with his sensing. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised.
In a moment or two Izuna’s head poked from out of the corridor. “Here you are! Need any help?”
“That is surprising how you are not forbidden from coming near this place,” Tobirama let out a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Oh, I absolutely am,” Izuna grinned. “Aniki’s out for the day, and what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him. So? How about a helping hand?”
“Fine,” Tobirama exhaled, feeling rather weary. “I do require an outside perspective.”
“Great,” Izuna got to the task immediately. He peered through the notes scattered across the tables and plastered along the walls, looking suspiciously thoughtful. “That is unnecessarily complicated. What are you trying to do even?”
“Reanimate the dead.”
Izuna stared.
“Ah,” he said. “I see.” Then he pouted, “That’s one hell of a preferential treatment.” Tobirama squinted at him. “I mean, how come I don’t get to play with corpses, but you do?”
Play with corpses?! It was a scientific breakthrough in the making. Important job.
“There must really be something wrong with you if your own brother likes me more than yourself,” Tobirama mused, feeling sufficiently annoyed with that sort of belittling of his achievement.
“No, that’s actually expected,” Izuna said, waving him off. “I just don’t see how it affects the corpses part of the deal.”
“I’m glad you are at least self-aware,” Tobirama scoffed. “And since we’ve established that you are absolutely insufferable and a danger to society itself, I wouldn’t have let you near a dead rat if I had any say in it.”
“Please,” Izuna huffed, “if I am a danger to society, you are a danger to yourself. How can anybody be this clueless is beyond me.”
“I believe I am sufficiently informed,” Tobirama scoffed again.
“Right,” Izuna snickered, Tobirama’s eye twitching in response. “Don’t come running when it hits you in the face.”
“Should I hit you in the face right now?” Tobirama hissed, Izuna giggling even louder than before.
“Keep it, keep it!” Izuna laughed, “You really are quite a pair!”
There was, of course, no point in acknowledging Izuna’s taunts. He was infuriating on his best days and absolutely unbearable any time else. Tobirama supposed violence was a natural reaction to having Izuna in the vicinity of one’s being, and so he didn’t dwell much on whatever was said, getting to work himself. He still vividly remembered how Izuna tried to convince him once that his dog died to land a blow, even though Tobirama never had a dog to begin with. Point being, Izuna was not a reliable source of information.
Somehow they’ve managed to get past the conflict and actually revise the seal’s blueprint, including making certain changes to the draft. Nothing really worked. No matter how gleefully Izuna got to dissecting the bodies and how many ways of writing the conditions out Tobirama tried, they only mustered the tiniest bit of progress. There had to be some catch, because Tobirama discerned that the seal was more or less complete after all.
At some point Izuna got tired of going through the notes over and over again. “Say, Tobirama,” he drawled thoughtfully, “what do you really think about my brother?”
Tobirama wasn’t sure where that came from. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to answer either, so he opted for something as neutral as it could get. “He is… competent.” He carded through the notes again, just to be sure that it was all for the day. The only thing left was doing a bit of a clean-up.
“Competent,” Izuna sighed, resting his head on his hand. He sat leaning onto one of the tables and Tobirama wasn’t completely certain how he didn’t gag from either the look or the smell of the intestines his nose was almost sticking into. “There’s indeed value in being good at things. That’s nice. No, perfect even. I should have guessed that will be what seals the deal.”
Tobirama quirked his brow, unsure of what the monologue was about.
“He’s also smart and strong and skilled. Talented, one could say,” Izuna mused. “Practically blessed by Amaterasu herself.”
“Izuna,” Tobirama squinted suspiciously, “why do I feel like you’re trying to sell me something?”
“Ouch! That hurts,” Izuna huffed. After a moment he sighed, tangling his hands in front of his face, his gaze darkening suddenly. “I’m just saying you shouldn’t fight it,”
Tobirama blanched. That was… unnecessarily ominous. “I’ve already fought him.”
“No,” Izuna threw his hands in the air exasperatedly, immediately losing the façade. “I mean do not consider anyone else!”
“I never got any other offers?” Tobirama quirked his brow again. Were sparring partners really that big of a deal for them?
“Good,” Izuna exhaled, a sly smirk suddenly splitting his face. “I mean, of course you wouldn’t. Nobody else would want you either way.”
This time Tobirama actually decked him.
***
“Kyubi was spotted on the sacred mountain, it seems it’s made itself a nest there,” Madara stated.
Tobirama looked at the marker. The place which Madara had indicated was a lone mountain way upstream of the Naka, considered something of a sanctity by the locals. It had a shrine near to the top of it at some point in time, but by now it was long since abolished, the only remnants of its past glory scattered along the narrow steps leading upwards. Tobirama has never been there since it was a secluded place avoided by most folks for the whispers of old gods still lurking there. That meant no targets, and that meant no missions.
“When are we moving out?” Tobirama folded his arms and frowned at the map. It wasn’t a long way from the compound and they should have been done with it in a day or two total.
“Tomorrow morning,” Madara answered, “make sure to prepare thoroughly.”
The road took them roughly about half a day. They ventured out at sunrise while Kagami was still in a deep slumber and were lucky enough to only witness the smallest amount of Izuna’s grumbling since he was pulled out of his futon forcefully to receive instructions for the prolonged period of Madara’s absence while being only half-awake. The mountain wasn’t particularly tall or huge, but the ominous quiet hanging around it did rattle Tobirama’s nerves in quite some capacity. Right at its foothill stood the gigantic set of red torii gates, a narrow row of their exact replicas rising high along the stairs carved into the rock that disappeared into the fog somewhere above. Two komainu statues stood or half-laid at each side of the gates, their bodies crooked and half their faces broken off crudely, the cracks lined with moss and forms covered in vines.
Madara’s hand circled his wrist, “I did not believe you to actually be superstitious before, Senju. Have I been wrong on this account?”
“Not at all,” Tobirama huffed, “yet can you blame me for expecting the worst after our previous encounter with one of the beasts?”
“That was then, and this is now,” Madara tugged him along, and they started their ascent under the unending roof of a myriad of red torii gates. Along the way were situated countless boulders sealed with thick straw rope, names of spirits and deities written upon them, giving an impression of a burial mound more than anything.
“It would be best if I took the monster on my own,” Madara addressed him. It was impossible to catch his eyes from this position, so Tobirama just stared at his back.
“I could be of use,” he argued. “We just need to coordinate better.”
“Maybe, but not in direct combat,” Madara disagreed, “I’d ask you to lay some groundwork and prepare the seal while the beast is preoccupied. I highly doubt that the fox will have a clam around its head.”
“Right,” Tobirama said grudgingly. It was a fine enough strategy, he was no match for Madara after all. And securing the side-lines was just as important.
Near the top of the mountain was positioned a flat area where the remnants of the shrine dwelled. It was rather vast and surrounded by the thick woods on all sides aside from the opposite wall of rock, in which a gigantic gush could be seen once the staircase got cut off abruptly.
“This must be the place,” Madara mused aloud.
As soon as they’ve arrived Tobirama’s gotten to work, securing the perimeter and setting up traps. After it was finished, he retreated back to the woods at a safe distance from the main ‘stage’. Madara stood in front of the gush. He nodded at Tobirama for the last time and flared his chakra the same way he did when they were confronting Sanbi back at the lake.
There was a long stretch of silence and then something scratched deep inside the cave, noise getting louder with every passing moment.
***
Madara was thankful to the heavens that the creature’s snout didn’t look as atrocious as Sanbi’s mutilated parody of a human face did. It didn’t make it any less terrifying however. Before it showed itself, the long black claws on the ends of massive fox-paws grabbed at the edges on both sides of the gush with enough force to splinter the rock. Then its head followed from the darkness, sizing Madara up with an overtly scrutinizing gaze. The teeth were what particularly required attention however, a single bite would have been enough for one to say goodbye to tomorrow. Madara didn’t shudder. He knew the risks associated with the job.
“Rude little human,” the creature snarled, what, they could talk now?! “What do you think you are doing, flaunting your vile essence on other’s front porches?”
“Calling upon you,” Madara breathed. “And you really came running.”
He’s never heard of these creatures being sentient, but if it was so, then he just got a more convenient opportunity to taunt. It was preferable that the thing attacked him, so he would be able to dodge. A full-on frontal attack could have been fatal, especially considering that Madara couldn’t afford a death match if he also wanted both of them to survive it in the end.
“Go away, troublesome child,” Kyubi growled, “there is no reason to waste your life in this manner.”
“Is the desire for power not reason enough?” Madara needed him to attack, not talk at him.
“Power is what you seek, loathsome thing?” Kyubi snarled in disgust. “My power is my own and not for the likes of you to be used.”
“You are nothing more than a fleeting spark of consciousness befallen the amalgamation of force that is your essence. To be used is your purpose,” just a bit more, Madara was ready, his stance taut and voice going strained, “so either obey me or show me otherwise.”
Without another word, the creature growled and threw itself at him, snapping its jaws around the space Madara just stood in. He’d managed to leap away in time and far enough to escape the second bite, his mantle flapping around him as he landed. It ran at him again, flinging itself in the air to either crush him with its weight or snatch him with its terrific black claws, but Madara dodged, moving in quick strides to where the nearest ledge was located. The creature’s sheer size was a disadvantage, making it lose Madara out of its sight for a moment long enough for him to form an Uma seal and drown the perimeter of the mountain’s opening in flames.
The beast squealed in agony, its side and hip catching fire, burning through the outer layer of skin. It threw itself into a roll, earth shaking around the clearing as it went. Madara hardly managed to hold onto the rock he was lodged on.
The beast got up on its legs and roared horribly, sound piercing through their surroundings and beyond. It launched its body in a vicious attack again, so Madara swung his gunbai, sending multiple flaming vortexes down its way, scorching the earth under its legs. It whined, leaping away in a hurry, only lo land in one of the traps that Tobirama so helpfully prepared beforehand. The bundle of explosive tags, carefully laid out and hidden, blew up in a chain of powerful blasts, hitting the beast from all sides, confusing its sense of direction. It shook its head, snarled at Madara once and threw itself in an opposite direction.
“Oh, hell-” Madara yelped as it tried to leap off the mountain. An escape was not something he had anticipated.
The beast didn’t get far however, because a column of water propelled up from the woods knocking it back into the vicinity of the clearing.
“Good one, Tobirama!” Madara yelled, feeling elated. He really was helpful, wasn’t he?
Kyubi landed on its paws, sliding slightly, claws leaving deep marks in the stone. It growled viciously and lurched to the left, landing in another one of Tobirama’s trap formations. The seals erupted, damaging its sides and tails again. It whined miserably, then whipped its head, the light and blow of a beast-bomb hitting the spot where Madara was lurking in a flash. The rock shattered, earth shaking uncontrollably again, a cloud of dust and smoke rising from the damaged area. It hurt like hell, his vision going bleary, all sound cut off by the impact, and yet from inside that cloud of frying dirt Susanoo’s flaming sword swung down, nailing the creature to the ground flat on its back. It roared and thrashed, its limbs going every which way, claws scratching at the ground and teeth snapping at thin air. It whipped its head again, its maw stretching wide and the energy compressing for a new beast-bomb. It glared at Madara in unseeing rage and then that was where it ended.
“Caught you,” Madara heaved, his eyes wide, “caught you.” The whites of Kyubi’s orbs blackened, three tomoe coming into shape along its irises. The bomb dissipated the same as it manifested. Madara slumped down to his knees, taking a long heavy breath.
Soon enough, Tobirama emerged from the woods, holding six sealing anchors in his hands.
“Are you still alive there?” he asked, slight concern on his face.
“Its aim was crooked,” Madara confessed, “it cracked three of Susanoo’s ribs and grazed me, but not more than that,” he gestured to his blood-soaked left sleeve. “Definitely stronger than Sanbi was.”
“Well done,” Tobirama nodded.
Madara sighed. Sometimes ‘well done’ just didn’t cut it.
Really, couldn’t he get a kiss at least?