#hashirama never sticks to the budget

[anoceaninthesun]

Needs Improvement

Thanks largely to a brilliant suggestion by @shineejeya the Home Improvement AU continues with this ficlet (mini-series ??). This time the renovating teams tackle their toughest assignment yet. If only it was all about the house and not the feisty, beautiful client.

Summary: When Yamanaka Ino meddles in her best friend’s love life quest to DIY renovate her new fixer-upper, Haruno Sakura finds herself caught up in a home improvement competition between four handsome, creative questionably qualified renovators.  

(Home Improvement AU, Modern AU, Slice-of-Life AU)

Pairings: FoundersxSaku (IzuSaku, TobiSaku, MadaSaku, HashiSaku), ShikaIno, other background pairs

Rating: T

Genre(s): Romance, Comedy, General

Warnings: none really—except maybe swearing, atrocious flirting skills and the Founders being renovating crackheads (not literally, but almost)

Pt. 1, Pt.2 

Sakura had her doubts about Ino’s intentions from the moment she showed up dressed so...expensively. The season’s latest denim cut off jacket, glittering top, a perfectly pleated skirt she’d seen in an upscale boutique they went to together, and boots easily worth someone’s paycheck. Granted, her friend had been a fashionista and trendsetter since they were kids.

 But, when Ino called the night before claiming it had been too long since they’d hung out and she wanted to do a quiet, girl’s-day-in, she’d agreed. So maybe the pinkette had brought whatever was coming onto herself. She hadn’t thought much of it when the blonde said she’d swing by.

 It wasn’t really done, boxes barely unpacked and some rooms still without fresh coats of paint, but it was slowly coming along. Buying her first home at only twenty-two was a big deal, all the years of frugal spending and careful saving, of building credit and working hard culminating in such a huge achievement. 

She was so proud of herself, and determined to turn the house into the home of her dreams, one weekend at a time. “Do you want a soda or water?” she called from the kitchen. 

She could see Ino on her couch with her thumbs flying over her phone screen, not paying any attention to the movie playing. “Smoothie.” she responded, absently. 

“That’s not even one of the choices I just offered!” Sakura huffed. 

“Don’t be an ungracious hostess, Sakura.” Ino laughed.

The doorbell chimed, and Sakura went to the fridge and fished out two bottles of water. She raised a suspicious brow when Ino ran to get it before she could so much as ask. Sakura knew she wasn’t expecting anyone else over, but her friends sometimes popped up when they knew she was free (which was sadly less than ever as of late). 

Taking the water and setting the two bottles down on the coffee table, Sakura wandered into the mudroom, peering out the window. She took a startled step back, blinking at the cars parked in her driveway and on the other side of the street. Was that...a camera crew? “What the hell?” she whispered. “Ino!” She stomped to the front door, only to find her friend bouncing around, happy sounds leaving her mouth as four incredibly attractive men stepped into her home. And yes, a flood of people with cameras coming in too. 

“Hi!” Ino waved with both hands. “Thank you so much for choosing this house! I can’t believe you’re here,” she tucked a loose lock of hair behind one ear and then moved forward to shake the first man’s hand. 

Sakura caught herself doing a double take. He looked so much like her childhood friend Sasuke it wasn’t even funny. More like Sasuke than his own older brother did, and she had always thought that their resemblance was pretty strong.

 The only real noticeable differences she could spot was his longer hair (hair which stuck up messily the same way Sasuke’s tended to) hanging down his back when he turned.

 His lips also looked fuller, and she and Naruto had always reluctantly agreed Sasuke had lips to die for. Their eyes met from over Ino’s shoulder and Sakura felt her heart seize up for half a beat, averting her eyes. He smiled politely, stepping back from Ino so she could continue conversing with the strange group of people. 

“So this is the house?” A white-haired man rumbled, his sharp, red eyes drinking in every detail. His unyielding facial expression made it hard to determine whatever thoughts were running to his head. Until his head bobbed once, evidently satisfied. “It’s got good bones.” 

Good bones. Sakura had thought the same thing when she’d seen it, and that’s what had prompted her to put a considerable amount of her savings into buying it. That, and maybe a tiny splash of idealism. The location, the rooms, the cute (if not somewhat overgrown) backyard...

“You’re Yamanaka Ino, right? The friend who wrote in?” The next man who spoke brought her right out of her idyllic visions. He was huge, with a beautifully bronzed skin tone, a voice that exuded warmth, and a flannel shirt stretched over a broad chest. He shook Ino’s hand, her whole arm bouncing with his strength, “Is the home owner around?” 

“Sure is! She’s right,” Ino half turned and her eyes immediately found Sakura, who had been frozen there the entire time. “Right there!”

Just like that, any illusion of invisibility she had was ripped away, and Sakura stood exposed. The cameras were zooming in, taking in her wide eyes, ghostly pallor and everyday clothes. 

“Haruno Sakura?” The man approaching her had a voice that felt like it punched the wind from her lungs, knocking her sideways. He shifted some of his long hair aside and smirked slightly, catching her reaction. She took the hand he offered and shook it, because she wasn’t really sure what else she could do. “I assume you know why we’re here?”

“Bad assumption,” she croaked. “This wasn’t what...I don’t know why...have I seen you somewhere before?” 

The role reversal was abrupt. His cocky grin melted into a thin line as his brow arched and he retracted his hand. “You...You haven’t seen the show?”

“No.” Sakura responded, almost challengingly.

The Sasuke-Look-Alike approached with a softer expression, but it did nothing for her nerves. He was just as overwhelming up close as the man she shook hands with.

“We were contacted to renovate a home, your home. As part of a new episode of our show, From House to Home. I’m Uchiha Izuna, and that’s my charming brother—”

“Madara.” Madara introduced himself with pride, as if he had the title of royalty attached to his name. They really were Sasuke’s relatives! Ones she’d never met, and she thought she had met a good deal of his extended family.

Apparently not wanting to be left out, the man with the large presence and abundance of energy came over, his eyes merry even before the genuine grin pulled his mouth up. “I’m Senju Hashirama, and I’m excited to work with you. We’ll get your dream home complete in no time.” Tugging the solemn man to his side and placing an arm around his shoulders, he waited.

“Senju Tobirama.” he said, his tone no more ‘excited’ than his face.

Sakura blinked once, wondering why a brain that could memorize the names for all the bones in a human body with ease had so much difficulty processing this. “Nice to meet you all.” she said slowly. Her eyes darted back to the camera crew still filming. She worried her face was going to look clammy on film. Would they edit out the awkward parts at least?

“So, Ino-san’s told us a little bit, but it’d be great if we could go over what you’re looking for.” Izuna urged.

Figuring it was too late to turn back (although she owed Ino one hell of a scolding for blindsiding her), Sakura nodded. “I’ll show you around.”

______________________________________________________________

Ino flitted around like a dragonfly that couldn’t decide where to land. Sakura did her best not to break into a sweat over the pack of handsome men following her around from room to room. She had plenty of male friends.

Attractive male friends, even. But there was a hot flame at the back of her neck from the gazes tracking her that just wasn’t there when she was around her boys. The crush she’d once had on Sasuke for that awkward period when they were younger, notwithstanding.

“A more open kitchen?” Hashirama repeated. He pulled out a tablet and began fumbling with it, biting his lip briefly. Sighing loudly, Tobirama yanked it from his hand, pointedly turning it so it was no longer upside down, and began tapping.

Sakura smiled slightly. Though they were apparently something like celebrities in the world of home improvement, they gave off a very difference impression in real life. On the other hand, exactly how competent were these men?

“It’d be nice if she could have a bigger island bar. You know, for get togethers with our friends.” Ino put in, standing at one corner of the room.

For all the helpful advice she had, the renovators probably thought Ino lived with her.

“We’ve definitely done some very fun island bars before.” The older Senju said. “Remember the project with the tropical fish tank built in?” He nudged at his brother, who grimaced.

“Your ideas are somehow always even bigger than the clients.” Tobirama grumbled.

Madara wondered over to her humble stove area, examining it. Then her second-hand fridge and microwave. “These appliances are outdated. Anything new we put in would clash.” Sakura took offense to his disdainful expression. It wasn’t easy to afford a house on her budget and spring for brand new kitchenware and appliances.

“It works fine.” Sakura explained, teeth grinding. Who did this man, who probably drove around in a car the same price as the down payment on her house, think he was? To demonstrate, she brushed by his taller frame and turned on one of the eyelets of the stove. A flame sputtered to life. “Plus,” she added, putting on her syrupiest voice, “I know seasoned renovators like yourselves can work around any minor inconveniences the house has.” Madara stared at it, then her, saying nothing else.

Sakura happened to catch the shrewd carmine eyes of Tobirama, noticing how they were lit with mild amusement.

“Without a doubt!” Hashirama agreed, “So Madara, you’ll take responsibility for the kitchen area?”

Crossing his arms, the older Uchiha made a noise reminiscent of reluctant agreeance. Sakura had been friends with Sasuke for a long enough period to decode most vague noises and gestures in an Uchiha’s standard repertoire.

That was without a doubt, “challenge accepted.” ______________________________________________________________

So far, the job ahead didn’t make him feel as miserable as Tobirama had been expecting. Despite the strange newness of the situation, Haruno Sakura didn’t seem like an unreasonable client. They were currently surveying her unfenced backyard, no one more eager to talk about plans for it than Hashirama. “The great thing about how unstructured this space is right now, is that you could do almost anything with it and not worry about taking anything out first. A fence is a definite, but how do you feel about a greenstone garden?”

Sakura contemplated, a slow smile curling her lips as her best friend barely contained a squeal. “Well, I did say whenever I got my own place I’d try my hand at something like that.” 

Happy that she was on board, she and Hashirama began to talk shop, with Ino interjecting, apparently a gardening fanatic herself. Tobirama let them chat, busy watching Madara scope out the yard, presumably to see how he’d implement his own project. When he wasn’t doing that, he was boring holes into the side of the client’s head. She had to feel it. 

It was starting to agitate him a little, and he wasn’t even the focus of the man’s gaze. Ever since the little display of sass in the kitchen – something Tobirama thoroughly appreciated since quite a few clients were too busy fawning to put Madara in his place–it was hard to tell if the older of the Uchiha brothers wanted to one up them or impress Sakura. More than likely both.

“I don’t think I’d want to splurge on anything like a pool,” Sakura was shaking her head. “But it’d be nice to have something entertaining...”

“A firepit.” Izuna said instantly. “We can do one right off the patio if you want.” He took out his own tablet and showed her a three dimensional construct of what it would look like. 

Sakura leaned in, her face approving. “Oh!” Without even seeming to realize it, she gently tugged it from his hands and tapped. “Are these the different designs? I really like this one.” 

The camera shifted to show what her choice had been. Though Tobirama found the Uchiha’s penchant for firepits entirely unoriginal from a design perspective, the one Sakura liked would unfortunately be very nice surrounded by Hashirama’s horticultural touches.

 Izuna was certainly proud of himself for suggesting it, much less openly smug than his brother. But...too pleased nonetheless. In fact, he had been stealing interested looks at Sakura nearly as often as Madara. 

As they moved back into the house, Hashirama and the women in front, the younger Senju traded a very loaded look with the dark-haired brothers.That probably wasn’t going to make the final cut. The show liked to capitalize on a “friendly” if not overly-competitive rivalry, but the venomous sneers they gifted each other were far past it. 

They were all supposed to be alright with a collaboration for the sake of Sakura’s dream reno. He just had the niggling suspicion that wasn’t the only thing on their minds. Deny all they wanted, the Uchiha Team tended to shine best when the client was young, female and single. Sakura was at least two out of three things thus far. 

At the very least, she wasn’t acting besotted. That was a welcome change. She also seemed financially conscious, which was something else Tobirama appreciated after so long doing budgeting on these projects. A lot of clients didn’t truly understand how that portion of project management worked.

 Though, with how surprised she was by the whole affair, he wondered if she even knew an anonymous source had put up a very generous amount to cover the renovation.

 Sakura could have two identical houses and triple the square footage if she really wanted it. And it wasn’t beneath Madara to use that knowledge and some sex appeal to coerce someone in the pinkette’s position to let him take control of a project like this one.   

Tobirama wasn’t about to let the opposing team break ahead. The time would come shortly for him to speak with Sakura, and when they had that meeting of the minds, he would convince her that an economical reno was the way to go.  

______________________________________________________________

It took a lot longer than anticipated but here’s part two. The beginning of the SakuraxFounders interactions! I usually do slow burn, but at the same time this isn’t going to be super long, so romance may happen quicker than usual. I think this is looking more and more like it may become a mini-series (a handful of these little chapters probably), which I have never done on tumblr. Fingers crossed I figure it out. If you’re looking for more FounderxSakura fun from me, and there’s a chance you haven’t seen my oversaturated advertisement for it, you can check out: A Stitch in Time.

#sakura haruno #foundersxsakura #konoha founders #needs improvement #madara uchiha #izuna uchiha #hashirama senju #tobirama senju #ino yamanaka #sakura is already done #tobirama’s getting there #madara should maybe keep his shirt on #sakura might splash bacon grease his way if he crosses her #hashirama never sticks to the budget #madasaku #tobisaku #izusaku #hashisaku

[zombie-honeymoon]

Hashirama and Kakuzu for the questions!!! 😍✨

From this ask meme!

HashiKaku Edition!

Gives nose/forehead kisses: Kakuzu will give forehead kisses from time to time. Like when Hashirama is sitting and Kakuzu comes up beside him and leans down, or they're lounging in bed together and Hashirama is resting against Kakuzu's side. During those quiet, intimate moments.

Gets jealous the most Going with Kakuzu here. He's possessive, and while he generally feels secure in his relationships, he's still going to get jealous.

Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive Kakuzu picks up Hashirama. He doesn't get drunk often, doesn't enjoy it, and is good at knowing when he's had enough and limiting himself when they go out. Hashirama on the other hand...

Takes care of on sick days They both do, depending on who's sick.

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day Kakuzu enjoys swimming, but if it's very crowded he wouldn't want to go out in the water and Hashirama will try his best to get him to get out there with him. Otherwise they don't need to try to get the other out in the water.

Gives unprompted massages Hashirama does when he's feeling comfortable and wanting to do something special for Kakuzu. It's rare though, he's less hands on than Kakuzu.

Drives/rides shotgun They'll share the driving responsibilities but Kakuzu does drive more, because he likes to be in control.

Brings the other lunch at work Hashirama brings Kakuzu lunch so they can see each other during the day.

Has the better parental relationship Kakuzu does! Also answered here in more depth.

Tries to start role-playing in bed I'm not sure on this one and will have to go with neither. I really don't see Kakuzu doing this, but I also don't really see Hashirama doing it either.

Embarrassingly drunk dancer Hashirama. And Kakuzu is pretending to not know him. He is not looking. He does not see. That man? He doesn't know him, never seen him before in his life. Did they arrive together? No they didn't. Kakuzu's going to need another drink to deal with this...

Still cries watching Titanic Hashirama does, probably isn't in a good place mentally if he's sat through three hours of that again. Kakuzu gets him the tissues while feeling somewhat awkward about it. Hashirama thought it was going to be a good time. It was not.

Firmly believes in couples costumes Hashirama. If he's going to dress up in a costume, his partner is going to match!

Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas Hashirama does. They have a set limit they've both agreed to but he goes over anyways. (I'm basing this on him being into gambling and that over spending/compulsive spending can go hand in hand with that, and Kakuzu being quite frugal and can easily stick to a budget and find some great bargains)

Makes the other eat breakfast Kakuzu, even if it's just a piece of toast and some tea or coffee, he wants Hashirama to eat in the morning.

Remembers anniversaries They both do! If it's important to one of them, the other will make the effort to remember it!

Brings up having kids Hashirama does, though Kakuzu was thinking about it. He's open to adoption if Kakuzu wants children and he's thought of having kids himself and starting a little family.

#hashikaku #kakuhashi #hashirama/kakuzu #hashirama #kakuzu #thank you for sending!! #hellotheremaryrose

[raendown]

Shout-out to you-know-who-you-are for reminding me to post this because I honestly didn’t even realize it was Sunday. Whoops!

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 4088 Chapter: 14/? Summary: Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. Some are fought at the conference table, with whispers in the shadows, or even in the bedroom.

In a world where the Senju and Uchiha traditional lands were too far apart to have ever made them enemies, Butsuma and Tajima are the ones who come together and sign a treaty of peace. Madara isn’t happy to have his life signed away for him in a political marriage to strengthen the bond between their clans. He is even less happy to have Tobirama make assumptions of him from their very first night together. What follows from there is a journey of healing, of learning, and finding the places to belong in the places least expected.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Chapter 14

“I’m not sure why you’re so worried about solving the problem right this second.” Touka examined her fried squid with a little too much interest to be genuine before delicately catching a piece between her teeth and nibbling it away from the stick. Her apparent disinvestment in their conversation did not fool him for a moment.

“They’re brothers, closer maybe than Hashirama and I.”

“Doesn’t take much,” Touka interrupted with a scoff, her words muffle around the mouthful of squid.

Tobirama ignored her. “Izuna means a lot to Madara and having a wedge like this between the brother he loves and the husband he’s contractually stuck with, it’s got him in knots. He’s moping. But you didn’t hear me say that because every time I use the word moping he gets prissy and starts yelling about the difference between moping and thoughtful silences.”

Pausing to let an older couple pass in front of them in the busy marketplace, he shared a secret look with his favorite cousin.

“Does he get that squinty look? The really hot one where he starts puffing his chest out?”

“Every time,” Tobirama answered.

Touka laughed as she pulled the last of her squid off its stick, popping the morsel in her mouth and tossing the stick in a public trash bin when they passed one. “Shame he’s so mouthy, really. You got lucky in the looks department but he’s too loud for my tastes.”

“I kind of like him the way he is.” Sensing her eyes drilling in to the side of his head, Tobirama huffed. “Yes, I know. Don’t bother saying it. This is supposed to happen in a marriage but – and I never thought I would have to say this about myself – getting attached like this probably isn’t really the best idea.” Knuckles brushing against his own was Touka’s way of expressing sympathy out here where so many strangers could see them.

“Be careful,” was all she said, simple words that carried a depth of meaning very few would be able to discern.

“No promises,” Tobirama shot back. She rolled her eyes at him but let the subject drop.

When they turned the next corner they were treated to the sight of the afternoon sunlight laying a golden crown around the tower that made the center of their village. After getting caught up in a meeting with the Sanitation Committee about why burying their garbage right next to a residential area wasn’t a great solution such a vision was more than welcome, reminding him of the few reasons he did think this village was a good idea. He had missed his usual lunch hour before of the meeting and so ended up taking a late break with Touka as she came off patrol. Now that they were done eating he would have to go back to the drone of paperwork.

Sometimes he really missed risking his life on missions. At least it was never boring.

He had planned to part ways with Touka after she saw him back to his office but they never made it that far, stopped in the hallway by a large crowd of people and immediately drawn by the same curiosity as everyone else had been: raised voices. Both of the shouting voices were unfortunately quite familiar. It wasn’t the first time that Tajima and Butsuma had argued in public, something that had been growing more and more common since the first time after Tajima caught Butsuma yelling at one of his sons, and the only reason Tobirama hadn’t made any attempts to rein his father in was the fact that it didn’t seem to be affecting how well the rest of their clans worked together.

From what he could understand of their yelling it didn’t appear that Tajima had gotten the message on that. It seemed like the longer they worked together and the more people joined this venture they had pioneered the more paranoid he grew about everything that went on around him. Tobirama wished he could say that Butsuma balanced him out with level-headed responses but unfortunately much the opposite was true.

“He is my son, not your own! It should not be for you to say where he goes and when!” Tajima’s voice sounded livid and his face, when they finally fought their way through the crowd, was red with anger. Not an unfamiliar sight.

“This mission requires a certain skill set and Izuna matches that perfectly. Should I pretend the entirety of the Uchiha clan does not exist when assigning teams for each mission?” Butsuma’s face was hardly faring any better and his body language was just as aggressive, much to Tobirama’s tired irritation.

“You do as much whenever it pleases you from what I can tell!”

“I beg your pardon?” Butsuma’s eyes narrowed. Tajima did not take the warning.

Stepping forward almost threateningly, he made wide gestures to match his accusations. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how often my clan members get sent away and pushed to the side while you keep your own children close and pair them with the Hyuga.”

“Are you trying to say something about my administrative choices?”

“I think you understand what I’m trying to say,” Tajima snarled. “You and the head of the Hyuga clan have been getting a little too close for me to ignore it any longer.”

“There is nothing for you to ignore. It isn’t my fault if you choose to jump at shadows and secret plots that don’t exist. I stand by my decision. Your son Izuna was chosen for this mission because he is well equipped for it and Tobirama has been assigned to the land expansion project for the same reasons. That this project happens to work closely with the Hyuga has nothing to do with you!” Unlike his counterpart, Butsuma did not bull his way forward but rather settled his legs in to a firmer stance and stubbornly crossed his arms.

Across the room Tobirama lifted his eyebrows. This was the first he had heard of being assigned to any new projects. Sure he was good with numbers and had a knack for thinking of things in long term views, something that coming up with budgets for future expansions would need, but he was hardly the only person with a head for arithmetic in the whole village. Plenty of other people could take his place crunching these particular numbers.

Clearly Tajima seemed to think so as well, although his issue didn’t seem to be with Tobirama’s placement but more with the other people working on the expansion plans. The red covering his face deepened another shade as he clenched his fists with rage.

“Lies! Do not lie to me! You have the nerve to send my son away on a mission to risk his life while keeping your own safe at home and oh! What a coincidence! Working closely with the Hyuga!”

“What exactly do you imagine is happening that has not already been covered in our very public meetings?” Butsuma demanded, clearly tiring of this argument.

“You are undermining me and my clan! Have you forgotten that this village was only made possible by my clan’s equal contribution? You did not build this empire alone and it is not for you to rule by yourself! I refuse to sit idly by while you replace us with an inferior clan just because you think you can control them better!”

“Be careful what you say to me, Uchiha.” Drawing himself up a little taller, Butsuma at least made a good impression of a man insulted.

Tobirama was contemplating the pros and cons of hiding under a rock for the rest of his life when he heard Touka sigh to his left. When he looked over her face was drawn in to an expression that practically dripped with exasperation, body language screaming her desire to call both of the men before them six kinds of idiots. Pretty much her usual reaction to any sort of interaction with either of their two founders.

“Do you think they know how stupid they look?” she murmured under her breath.

“Hmph.” Tobirama leaned closer to murmur back. “Do you think they realize what a poor image they make of themselves every time they do this in public? What a terrible example to follow.” To make such fools of themselves or to insult another prominent clan so brazenly, he wasn’t sure which was stupider but he did know the answer to his own question. Neither man probably realized how badly the people in the room were judging them.

“So? Do something about it then.”

“What, and solve all their problems for them? They’re going to have to grow up some time.” Tobirama sniffed haughtily like he had no idea what she was talking about and Touka snickered. She tried to swat his arm for being cheeky but he dodged easily, moving as little as possible as in an effort not to draw his father’s eye yet.

There was no escaping her pointed look however.

“Fine, alright. I’m leaving my administrative duties to you, I hope you know. Enjoy covering my paperwork.” She groaned but, amazingly, didn’t fight him on it.

Saying he would do it and actually forcing himself to step forward to interrupt the stupid measuring contest going on between the pair in front of him were two different matters, though. It was hard to find a place to insert himself without screaming over top of them to get their attention, something he was quite sure would only get him in more trouble than it would solve. His opportunity came in the form of another dig from Tajima.

“How are the people meant to trust the man who leads them if that man will send their children away to die while his own sit safe at home?”

“It is the nature of shinobi to die,” Butsuma retorted in a cold voice. The blankness of his voice, a brief reappearance of the typical Senju control over their emotions, was enough to shock Tajima in to silence and give Tobirama a moment to make himself heard.

“Rather than make a spectacle of ourselves,” he stepped in with a mildly reprimanding tone, “I have a solution if you would both hear it. There are several of the Nara I can list off the top of my head who would be more than capable of taking my place on the land expansion project if I accompany Izuna on his mission. Father, I agree with you that Izuna’s skill set is particularly well suited for this task but Tajima-sama does also have a point. He should have back up. Allow me to go with him; it will make a good show of unity.”

Both of them stared at him with matching expressions of shock. Now a step behind him, Touka turned aside to hide her amusement. It took effort to hide his own exasperation at two grown adults who couldn’t make themselves behave like civilized humans until they were handed a perfectly obvious solution by someone more than twenty years their junior.

“That would be acceptable,” Tajima admitted gruffly, the first to shake himself out of his stupor. Not to be outdone, Butsuma cleared his throat and nodded, visibly ashamed of allowing himself to get dragged in to such a public display.

“Agreed,” was all he said but to anyone who knew him well there were entire layers of embarrassment and resentment buried in that one word.

Nodding back to them, Tobirama very carefully did not sigh. “Excellent. I will find Izuna and have him relay the details of the mission to me. Might I recommend Nara Shikou as my replacement? He displays excellent attention to detail each time I have worked with him.”

Without waiting for an answer Tobirama dismissed himself by turning on his heel and striding forward as though entirely unaware of the large crowd that had gathered to watch the altercation play out. People scrambled to dodge out of his path but he kept his eyes forward, continuing down the hall until he was alone with only Touka’s chakra trailing along at his heels like a small cloud of contained laughter. She followed him until he was just around the corner from Izuna’s office and then stopped him before he could go on.

“Good luck cousin,” she said. “Try not to let him smother you in your sleep.”

“Thanks,” he told her dryly.

She left with a wave and Tobirama took a deep breath before approaching Izuna’s door and waiting until his knock was answered with a curt “Enter.” He wasn’t surprised to be met with a glare or to discover that he had interrupted some sort of meeting, probably instructions for filling in while he was gone. The two women Izuna was speaking to took one look between them and bolted without waiting for permission to leave.

“What do you want?” he demanded.

“I’ve been consigned to accompany you when you leave for the capitol so I’ll need you to catch me up on the details of the assignment.” To his absolute lack of surprise, the irritation of Izuna’s face slipped down in to outright distaste.

“Are you serious? For fuck’s sake. I don’t need a babysitter – and I don’t need help! Especially not from you!” His entire face pinched in a sour look.

Tobirama watched the other man throw up his hands and mutter darkly to himself, questioning for a moment why he had bothered to do this. A brief but well-timed flare of chakra from the floor above them was all it took to reminded him of why. Madara, whatever he was doing, was apparently having a bad day. Hopefully the news that his husband and his brother would be spending some ‘quality time’ together might help improve his mood and clear the dark little cloud that had been hanging over his head lately.

Drawing the length of his ponytail forward over his shoulder and tugging fitfully at the end, Izuna gave vent to a deep sigh of defeat. “I can’t get out of this?”

“Both of our fathers agreed on it.” And he would not be the one to mention that it had been his own idea.

“Ugh. I seriously do not need your help! I can do this on my own!”

“I am sure you are more than capable. For the purposes of this mission you may consider me an emergency exit strategy and an extra pair of eyes.”

“Hmph.” Izuna glared at him. “That’s about all you’re good for, I’ll bet.”

Really it wasn’t worth letting him start a fight over something so petty. Tobirama refused to rise to the bait. Instead he sidestepped the insult and tried to steer the conversation back to business.

“Do tell me if I’ve missed any details but as it stands what I know of the mission is that we are going to the capital to escort the Daimyo’s niece as she travels in secret. To be honest I didn’t look too hard at that request since I didn’t think I was being assigned to it.” He shrugged, pleased to see even Izuna couldn’t find anything wrong with that. At least he wasn’t sticking his nose in everyone else’s business.

“That’s close but not really it. Apparently the Daimyo’s niece has been travelling to a secret location several times a week and won’t speak about where she’s going. He wants us to tail her and stay completely out of sight. If she’s in trouble he wants us to take out whoever might be hurting her. If she’s colluding with his enemies he wants us to gather as much information as possible and bring him evidence of her crimes.” For a moment he looked up to the ceiling as though running through his memories to check if he missed anything. “Anyway, we’re supposed to keep a low profile on our way to the capital and meet with his representative in the market district, at the Red Dog Tavern. They’ll tell us where she leaves town and when to wait for her. We can’t be seen.”

“Nothing too complicated,” Tobirama murmured. Stealth missions weren’t his favorite, he usually found them quite boring even if he did have the patience of a rock when it was necessary to get that all important paycheck.

Izuna leaned towards the window to check the position of the sun. “I was just giving my assistants a few last minute instructions and then I meant to head out. Don’t suppose you’re all ready to go?”

“Give me half an hour.”

“Fine. Meet at the north gate in thirty minutes. If you’re not there – well, you’re a sensor aren’t you? I’m sure you can find me and catch up.”

Tobirama held his tongue and turned for the door. Thirty minutes was more than enough time for him to make it home and grab the mission pack he still kept ready at all times even though he hadn’t found much time for anything other than paperwork since moving here. But there was something else he needed to do before leaving.

Out in the hallway people appeared to be returning to work and a quick scan for their chakra signatures showed that Butsuma and Tajima had ended their fight in one manner or another, now heading in opposite directions. He could only assume to cool off after embarrassing themselves so thoroughly. With so many people in his way it took a minute or two longer than expected for Tobirama to make it up to the next floor and poke his head in to an office he hadn’t actually spent much time in, both despite and because of who was inside.

Hashirama looked up with a big smile when he entered and Tobirama nodded in return, flicking his eyes over in Madara's direction.

“Could you give us a few minutes?” he asked. His brother stared.

“Like, alone?”

“Yes, you idiot, I would like a few minutes alone with my husband if that isn’t too much trouble.”

“So cute!” Hashirama was up out of his chair in a flash and shoving his way out the door. “Maybe I’ll nip down and visit Mito! Oh this is fun!”

He was gone almost before he was finished speaking and Tobirama was shaking his head as he stepped inside and closed the door behind himself. Madara watched him curiously with a hint of trepidation that he entirely understood. ‘We need to talk’ wasn’t usually the sort of conversation opener that implied anything positive was about to come.  

“It’s not anything bad,” he hurried to say when it looked like Madara was starting to brace himself. “I just didn’t want to leave without saying anything to you.”

“Leave?”

“After this conversation, yes. I’m being sent along with Izuna on his mission.”

Madara rocked back in his seat, eyes wide with surprise. “Kami save us all.” His response startled Tobirama in to a wide eyed expression of his own.

“I…thought that would please you.”

“Sending you both off alone and unsupervised? If neither one of you kills the other I will be greatly surprised.” With a low groan he ran a hand through his hair. “You two don’t exactly have a great track record for getting along so far.”

Tobirama scrunched his nose. He deserved that. “Regardless, we’ll need to make at least some sort of effort. I’m not certain how long this should take, hopefully no more than a week all told even with complications, but I wanted to let you know where I was going before I disappeared without warning.”

“I appreciate that,” Madara told him quietly.

“Right.” His message delivered, Tobirama wasn’t really sure what else to say. Yet strangely he wasn’t sure he wanted to leave yet either. He did ask for a half hour and if he wanted to waste chakra on a body flicker it would take less than a minute to flash home, retrieve his kit, and reappear at the meeting point.

“You’ll be careful?”

“I- yes?” The question threw him a little. He couldn’t remember the last time someone asked him to be careful on a mission. Usually it was just implied.

“Good.” Madara cleared his throat and valiantly strove to maintain eye contact. “I’m too young to be a widower so neither one of you are allowed to actually die, understood? A little maiming at most if you absolutely can’t control yourselves.”

Not bothering to fight the sudden smile, Tobirama nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

He hovered for a few another minutes, unsure of what to say and almost hoping Madara would ask him something else, but the moment was made awkward by neither of them quite knowing how to handle it. This was the first time since they were bonded that they would be separated for longer than a day or two and of course it came now that neither of them laid awake at night wishing for a way to escape from the other.

Eventually Tobirama decided that there was little point in standing around staring at each other and he murmured his goodbyes. Madara's gaze burned hot on his back as he let himself out of the room. Their conversation hadn’t lasted very long so he still had quite a bit of time; he used it to walk home at a leisurely pace and take in the sights of the village for no other reason than it pleased him to do so. It truly was amazing what all these clans had accomplished together, the peace that they had built and maintained after so many years of warring senselessly against each other.

Once he had his things he set off again for the north gate at the same easy speed. He could have used his time to say goodbye to Hashirama but surely Madara would mention where he had gone and it likely would have taken longer than the thirty minute time frame to remove himself from his brother’s clutches. Hashirama’s goodbyes had never been quick.

When he arrived at the gates he still had several minutes to spare but he found Izuna already waiting with impatience stamped across his face. He took one look at Tobirama, huffed, and turned away to set off down the path without so much as a word of greeting. It didn’t surprise him, really. That was probably the sort of behavior he had to look forward to for most of their journey – but he had chosen this for himself so he could hardly complain. If not a chance to make friends or make peace this could at least be a chance to come to some sort of agreement. Even if that agreement was simply not to argue too much in front of Madara.

They both cared for the same man and wanted him to be happy and so they would both need a plan to work towards that goal. If Tobirama could find nothing in Izuna not to hate then he would do his best to find something tolerable in the man and focus his attention on those qualities. Or maybe he would just drag them out to the sparring fields so they could beat on each other without fear of worrying anyone else or causing undue offense.

Actually that was a decent idea. He would need to keep that option in mind should this venture prove a complete failure.

Several long steps brought him up to walk at Izuna’s side where his brother-in-law gave him an evil look most people would save for a particularly disgusting piece of garbage or an enemy that had haunted them for years gone by.

“Just don’t get in my way, Senju,” he growled.

“Let’s talk exit strategies,” Tobirama deflected. Talking about the mission was probably a lot safer than giving voice to any of the several responses that leapt to mind.

Thankfully Izuna allowed the change in subject, though he contributed only begrudgingly and continued to make himself as difficult to work with as possible. It took everything Tobirama had not to snap at him before they had traded a dozen sentences back and forth but he held on to his temper with a white knuckle grip and told himself that if he could just make it through this one mission, if he could just prove to Izuna that they could live with each other in some way, the rest of his life would be a lot more peaceful.

And Madara would be a lot more happy.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #touka #izuna #butsuma #tajima #fanfiction

[raendown]

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Chapter: 5/18 Word count: 1956 Summary: When Tobirama is exiled from the Senju clan without warning, without even the chance to plead his case, it feels like his life is over. What does he have to live for now without his older brother to believe in him? Captured by the Uchiha in his moment of weakness, Tobirama slowly learns to live again with the last people on earth he would have ever expected to care for - or to fall in love with.

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KO-FI in the blog header!

Chapter 5

The seals on his wrists were hasty and clumsy, no sophistication in the symbols. They were drawn in the fashion of someone copying an image without truly knowing the meaning behind it. Someone in the Uchiha had clearly gotten their hands on some kind of chakra suppressant seal to use as an example but it was obvious that none here were masters of the art. Any self-respecting seal master would have cried themselves to sleep at just the thought of having their work bastardized as much as the mock cuffs that had been forced upon him the moment he woke up after his last visit from the two brothers.

Not to say that they didn’t work. Sophisticated or not the seals accomplished what they were meant to. He could feel his chakra seething just under the surface, boiling and rolling and crashing against the barrier they made like water breaks against a cliff, but they were sufficient to keep him from releasing anything and thus he remained powerless. Maybe if he hadn’t spent the last month motionless and flopping about on the floor letting his muscles atrophy then he might have been physically strong enough to think about another route for escape. Hindsight had always been a bitch.

All things considered, though, his situation wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. He had expected his jailors to drive him hard with impossible tasks but Madara hadn’t lied when he talked about hauling laundry around. It earned him all sorts of different looks, from curious to barely concealed distaste, but he supposed he could understand that. He too would have stopped to stare upon seeing his ancestral enemy waltzing through the compound to go wash clothes in the little stream running through the western quadrant. Knowing he would have done the same did not stop him from making each trip with a stiff back and a constant frown of discomfort, hating the feeling of so many hostile eyes on his back. It seemed a miracle that no one had yet tried to attack him while he was vulnerable. Whether they refrained because Madara had warned them to leave him unharmed or whether they all simply enjoyed seeing him lowered to this state had yet to be determined.

Tobirama hurried back to the Head family home as quickly today as he had every morning for the past couple of weeks. Working for Madara wasn’t so bad as long as he was able to keep his pride in check. And doing that was easy enough when he reminded himself that he was literally nothing now, no clan name to back him, no authority to wield. Honest work was about the only option he had left, though if he had found honest work anywhere else he would certainly have expected to be paid for it, but even if he would hesitate to admit it he was grateful in a strange way for a break from the horrors of the battlefield. So far the work he had been given was mostly house chores and it was a novel thing not to wash blood from his skin at the end of every day.

Letting himself passed the front gate of Madara’s home, Tobirama first made his way around to the backyard to hang the clean clothing up to dry. When the line was full and his basket empty he went in through the back door, eyed the dishes in the sink, and then dismissed them in favor of wandering down the hall towards Madara’s office. Easy his duties might be but some of them were still abhorrent. That particular chore could wait until the end of the day when he could get rid of them all at once.

Madara’s office was cushier than his own workspace had been in the Senju compound, one corner of the room piled high with pillows in case the man was too tired to crawl down the hallway to his bedroom at night, the other wall lined with squat bookshelves and ancient weaponry hung like decorations above. Tobirama made his way straight towards the pillows to flop down and stare morosely at the man kneeling at his desk, right under the window where he could make full use of whatever daylight came filtering through the protective mesh screens.

“Done?” Madara asked, not lifting his gaze from whatever he was reading.

“Clearly,” Tobirama drawled in return. Then he sank further down in to the pillows and closed his eyes to sulk pointedly.

“Hmm, that was quick.”

“Didn’t feel quick. Why do your clothes always require extra scrubbing?”

Madara chuckled. “I make sure they’re extra dirty just to frustrate you.”

Even if he knew that wasn’t true, it still sounded enough like something he would do that Tobirama gave a low noise of disgust. Actually he had noticed it was really Izuna’s clothing that always took longer to clean and from the dirt stains in certain places he suspected a harsh training regimen as the culprit. He hadn’t yet found the courage to ask whether his rival had always trained this often or if it was a newly developed habit; he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. Was he supposed to feel guilty about how much damage the man could do in battle without himself there as a shield, an equal force to cancel out the deaths either of them were capable of causing in a single encounter?

As if sensing his thoughts spiraling downwards again, Madara grunted from across the room and Tobirama opened his eyes just in time to catch the scroll that had been tossed at his head.

“You’re supposed to be a genius, right? Here’s your next chore.”

When he opened it to find columns of messily scrawled numbers he lifted one eyebrow with conflicted reactions warring inside him.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to let the prisoner do your accounting?” he asked. Madara waved his question off with one hand, still engrossed in his own work.

“There’s no names on there to tell you who our suppliers are, no locations to give away. It’s just numbers. You’re a scientist, shouldn’t you be good at numbers?” The man shrugged carelessly. “Reckon the columns and you can take a break. Just make sure you’re back here to cook dinner.”

“Seriously?”

“Like I said: they’re just numbers. What harm could you do knowing how much we spent on food the past few months?”

Tobirama held his breath, unrolling the scroll to take a second look. There was a lot of damage he could cause with these numbers, actually. Many people would pay handsomely for even small information like this; he could think of a dozen different weaknesses he could assume from just food budgets alone. He would have liked to say he could buy his way back in to the Senju’s good graces by providing them with inside information but he wasn’t that stupid. They weren’t that easily bought, as much as he wished suddenly that they were. Since the scroll in his hands was as good a distraction as any against such musings he buried himself in the task given to him without complaint.

It was oddly nice to be given something to do that used his brain again after so long. Working out simple arithmetic wasn’t exactly a challenge but the routine calculations were time consuming and it was better mental exercise than wondering what he could add to his detergent that would make the laundry a little softer once it dried.

When the damnable seals had first been applied to his wrists and he realized Madara was serious about putting him to work he had thought perhaps they intended to take advantage of his mind. He’d been infamous from a young age for his genius and his knack for creating new jutsu, new weapons, and for the sealing skills he had cultivated with the aid of books sent to him by their Uzumaki allies. As much as he appreciated not being forced to bring those skills to bear in a war that would inevitably find its way to the people he once loved, household chores did get boring after a while. Being asked to help with the accounting was almost like Madara was granting him a treat for good behavior.

He avoided mentioning that in case the fool grew contrary and took it away.

Although it only took him twenty or so minutes to work through the entirety of the small portion he’d been given, Tobirama neglected to mention he was finished for another couple of minutes, taking an opportunity to quietly study the other man in the room. Madara was more of a mystery to him every day. The most Tobirama had ever known of him before was a screaming battle persona and the exaggerated memories Hashirama liked to wax poetic about every so often. He had expected his time under the man’s thumb to leave him bone-weary at the end of every day from bring run in to the ground with work; he had expected to be humiliated and degraded, to have his temper tried at every turn.

Reality was much harder to wrap his head around. Madara was calm in the moments between the never ending string of disasters that made up his life. For making such an impressive figure in battle he was incredibly goofy in everyday life. He woke with his hair sticking out at funny angles and walked in to walls before consuming his morning coffee. He sat down on pins the clan children left on his cushion and hung his body out the window to shout at them without a care for how it left his rump on comical display. He tripped on rocks and absently stabbed people with chopsticks while making gestures and even stood on his own hair sometimes when he tried to get up from his desk.

But in the moments around those, when he was still and there was no one to disturb him, he was as calm and poised as any clan head should be. Under the screaming and the wild mane there was a good head with a smart brain. Beneath that lay a bleeding heart that gave in to a good set of pleading puppy eyes faster than Tobirama had ever seen.

Had he been captured by any other clan at odds with the Senju, Tobirama knew very well that most would not have taken the time to hear his story let alone believed him enough to look in to it themselves. And even less would have seen any point in keeping him alive once they realized that he could be of no use as a bargaining chip. Maybe Madara really did just want a slave to keep his house clean and his yard tidy but he was a kinder master than Tobirama would have found in anyone else. If he had been given the option to choose his own path he would have chosen death in an instant. But if he had to choose his own captivity, as much as he hated to admit it, he would choose Madara a hundred times over.

At least, based on his experience so far.

Warm and comfortable in the mountain of pillows he had sunk his body in to, Tobirama never noticed he was falling asleep in the midday sun until his eyes slid closed and he was already gone. The scroll of accounts slipped from his fingers to roll gently across the floor and bump in to Madara’s knee but Tobirama was not awake to see the soft look in those dark eyes as his greatest enemy sat and watched him sleep away the afternoon.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #fanfiction