Archive of Our Own ^beta

You were known to each other since you were little. You could say you were friends, as close as brothers, when you were children, but this feeling would turn into something deeper when you were teenagers. Since your parents were friends of each other, the idea of a marriage to unite both families didn’t sound strange to them; however, the circumstances separated your ways, and as you remained single and dedicated all your time to your work, Tajima married someone else, became the head of the Uchiha and fathered five children.

Knowing him as you did, you always carried some hope that things would be different from the moment he succeeded his father and the Uchiha – the adults and the children – would finally see good, pacific days with new politics and rules. But, again, destiny had other plans for you and your people: whether because he believed his predecessor’s ideals or because he hadn’t enough influence among the elders, Tajima chose to keep things as they were, and children were kept being sent to war, and with the constant conflicts with the Senju and other clans you seemed to work more than ever.

Those days the altercations with the Senju were causing you more damage than usual, and you’ve been occupied as you weren’t in months. You were also aware that Tajima’s kids – the ones who were left, Madara and Izuna – were fighting by his side, the example the other men needed to take their own kids with them.

That night you were trying not think of this and to concentrate in preserving your own chakra to use it in favor of the injured ones and to lead the group of medical shinobi that were there with you. However, all your efforts were thrown out of the window when someone came to your room.

You didn’t need to see the intruder’s face to know it was him. Just the way he arrived was enough to tell you: the fact that he didn’t mind knocking first, the loud, desperate steps, his heavy breath, a sign that something unexpected – and terrible – happened before his eyes.

You turned to him and need all your strength to not scream with what you saw.

The man you had there was the Tajima you knew, but somehow he looked like someone else. He seemed older than the last time you’ve met – well, he was older, just like you. There were some gray hair where once it was all black; on the tanned skin of his face, the sun seemed to have left deep marks, as he spent the last days under its light leading his people to war; the lines around his mouth and forehead, some inconvenient heirloom from his father, were now visible even in his blank face. Maybe his dark eyes, partially covered by his hair, were the only thing that remained unaltered, but you were afraid of looking into them for too long and find out that even them were no longer the same.

All of this was captured by your eyes in a blink, as a shadow of a thought instead of a conscious exam. And all were soon overshadowed by the shocking way in which Tajima appeared in front of you: his clothes, already dark, were soaked by something you knew it was blood, and so were his hands.

You didn’t need to hear his first words to see that the situation was urgent: the desperation was visible in his eyes, almost pushing you back to the chair from which you just stood up.

- What is it? – you required.

- It’s my son, Madara – the man replied, his voice disappearing between one sigh and another – He was severely injured! He needs your help, y/n-san! – he took an unconscious step toward you – Please… save him!

His words were loud and clear, but you acted as you didn’t understand them at first: you took a moment to take your equipment and follow him. It wasn’t that your feelings got in the way: to speak the truth, you didn’t feel anything at all when you heard them. Nor angry, nor fear, nor shock. Nothing. That man was just another person asking for help, and that boy was only one more victim that needed your services. Or this is what you kept telling yourself while you followed his father through the area of the compound destined to medical treatment of the soldiers.

You didn’t exchanged a word while you ran: it was a waste of time and energy. You had nothing to talk to each other. Not after all that time. Everything you had to say was already said, when he came to ask for your help and you accept it.

Tajima was just ahead of you. With good reasons, he was on a rush; if you slowed down just a little bit, he would leave you behind. He was at the same time near and far from you: at some moments, you were so close that you swore you could see blood staining the white in the Uchiha crest on his back or his hair growing on his nape, suggesting that he had no time to keep it shaved during that campaign; other times, he seemed to be nothing but a shadow in your way, one which you had to follow.

One from which you could not flee.

When Tajima turned to you, you saw everything you expected to see when you first looked at him: the lines of worry on his face; the redness in his black eyes that was not his Sharingan, but the sign of hours without a moment of rest; the blood on his clothing that he got while carrying his son all over the way to the place where he was now. Beside that, you saw what you didn’t want to see there: that glimmer of relief that he couldn’t hide, that said how happy he was for you to have responded to his call; that slight curve that appeared on the corner of his mouth, an imitation of a smile that he wanted to give you because you came with him, because you were there.

Because you said yes.

In other times, the first thing you would do was to hug each other as he would explain the situation and you’d immediately start to work. Now the only thing you had for him was the brief look you gave him that soon turned to the injured boy before you.

Tajima’s voice was harsh despite his efforts to control it.

- Y/n-san, you…

You didn’t mind the other shinobi’s presence and interrupted him without even looking.

- Everybody out! – you commanded as you prepared your tools – The boy’s father is the only person I want here until further notice!

You felt Tajima’s eyes on you as you sanitized your hands and heard the steps of the other men leaving the place without questioning your order. If there was something you were always proud about yourself, that was you command voice, something essential to a doctor like you. When there was none but you and Tajima with the boy, you knelt before his futon and started to work.

Things were not going well to Madara. You didn’t need to touch his forehead to see that he was burning in fever because of the wound that remained opened and untreated for too long. When you unwrapped the improvised aid around his tiny body, he shivered; if it was because of pain or anything else, you didn’t want to know. Tajima suffocated a scream beside you. You ordered him to sanitize his hands right now and he obeyed.

It was an ugly thing, what he got there: a deep cut under his chest that would go from one side to the other, something made with a specially sharp sword, an expensive weapon that only someone from a privileged clan like the Senju could afford.

- I will clean this to know its exactly aspect – you explained as you took clean sheets from the suitcase you brought with you – Hold him. The less he moves, the better.

Madara was half conscious and you had no ways to know the amount of pain he was enduring, but it surely was great judging by the roar that came from his throat. But you had the firmness to finish the cleaning despite those noises right in your ears. You threw the dirty sheets aside and told Tajima to step back.

- I will start the healing now. It will take time.

The look you gave him before activating your chakra said what your mouth refuse to, and what he already knew. That children were harder to save. And that he couldn’t expect things to be different with Madara just because he was his son.

You’ve put your hands united right above the wound, and the greenish light that emanated from them illuminated the entire room. You closed your eyes and took deep, long breaths as your chakra left your hands to reach the boy’s body, touching every cell, bringing them back to their original state and accelerating their reproduction, so that the unnatural gap among them would slowly disappear.

You didn’t know how long you’ve been there. Sometimes it felt like five minutes; other times, it was like you’ve always lived in that room. You no longer knew what was that place, who was that person you were trying to save, why you were so worried, why your hands were trembling. You no longer felt your surroundings, no longer acknowledged your own presence. The only thing you felt was your chakra.

That was the state you always needed to reach if you wanted to see your efforts’ result. Nothing – not even yourself – should be in the way of your chakra’s hands and the patient’s decease. Your heart should contain only one desire and your mind should bear only one thought, and it was about healing them. Closing the wound. Purging the fever. Keeping death at bay.

It was easy when it was with unimportant people. When you didn’t know their names or ages, or if they didn’t have family and friends waiting for them to wake up. You’ve done this so many times you didn’t even need to concentrate to start the technique.

That time, however, you struggled as it was your first time. You had to fight your own body to do its work, but you had to take care not to spend much energy on this. As your last resort, you had to appeal to your early training method.

Heal him.

Close the wound.

Purge the fever.

Keep death at bay.

You repeated the mantra – with your mouth and your heart – until your hands stopped trembling. Soon, the whole room was silent. When you opened your eyes again, you released the sigh you have been holding.

The wound was closed; a dark mark that crossed Madara’s body was all that’s left. He was no longer struggling to breathe, and the fever diminished. The green light vanished as you moved your hands away, tired but relieved. The boy was going to survive.

You organized your things, but didn’t take them with you. You stood up and walked toward the door.

- The fever is going to disappear before tomorrow, but he lost too much chakra – you explained, glancing to the child sleeping right behind you – He needs to rest. I will see him again in a few hours.

You opened the door and went to the porch, breathing the fresh, cold air of the night as if you haven’t done it in a long time. Now it was you who needed some rest.

You walked to the grass and were in the middle of the way when you noticed he followed you. So he didn’t stay with his son? Suddenly, the conscience of being followed awakened all the feelings you were containing to perform the healing.

When you turned back to Tajima, you had nothing for him but rage.

If it were anyone else in his place, you wouldn’t be so surprised: being an Uchiha yourself, you knew the passion that ran in your clan’s veins as much as any of your fellows. However, Tajima had something that many of you haven’t, and that was what granted him the position he occupied now: he knew how and when he needed to surpass the usual tendencies and take control over his own passion, directing it to clear, established goals. Since you were young, Tajima has been the most rational of you two: while your strength was in your attachment to your own principles, he pushed his own towards the collective causes. In other words, you only shared the same goals to a certain point; your visions and ways of acting were too different even to be understood by each other. It was just incredible that you’ve managed to keep mutual respect for such a long time.

That was how you figured out that something changed in him after that argument and the subsequent fight. The old Tajima, the one you supposed to know for years, would not hesitate in finishing the job he started, and then you would no longer be there still deliberating. This new Tajima was just… confusing. Was it that way he used to feel about you every time he saw you in action, whether defending your values or healing your partners?

Well, maybe this was still the same man, after all. Maybe he was just tired. Tired of what he became, or what he had to carry. Maybe he was tired of fighting you. There was also a possibility that he thought that his words would never be enough to convince you of his truth, so far you were from each other now, so that the only way he could make you believe him was through his passion. The Uchiha passion, something that only another Uchiha would be able to acknowledge.

And the Uchiha passion never lied, for you did acknowledge it.

You recognized his sincerity in your lips, in every nerve, every heartbeat – and realized you felt exactly the same. In your own way, you were tired of many things. You were tired of being conscious that maintaining your services as a doctor has been keeping the wheel of an endless war turning, yet you couldn’t just stop using your abilities to save your partners’ lives. You were tired of being only able to perform a noble work under such immoral conditions, of seeing the consequences of the maintenance such system every day in the form of blood, pain, injuries and mutilations. Most of all, you were tired of seeing that the person you once saw as your friend, your brother, your soul mate was the primary responsible for this, with enough power to stop it or to keep it and still not seeming to understand what that meant.

Yet you couldn’t stop loving him. You couldn’t stop thinking of him, caring for him, coming to save him when things got complicated on his side because that was what you had to do – that’s what we do when we love someone. You just couldn’t forgive him for not being by your side, firm against the decisions of the elders when you would do it for both of you. And yes, you couldn’t stop keeping your heart in pieces since he accepted to become another woman’s husband, to become the father of her children, not yours. In the end, did he ever really loved you? Or was his love not enough, while yours would always be?

And now he was there, holding you so tight that your heart could be unified at any moment against your will. And you were so angry at your yourself for letting it happen, for wanting it to happen. Yes, you were really tired and needed to be held. So just for once, you gave in. You forgot about your work, about the young boy sleeping right inside that house behind you, about the clan, the elders, the laws, about everything. For a moment, there was no past, no future – only you and the man you loved, engaged in a breathless, rough kiss just like the ones you’ve exchanged when you were young and new to this, and when you dared believe you knew the paths life had prepared for you.

You couldn’t remember who moved away first, if it was you or Tajima. But it didn’t matter; the kiss might have ended, but you remained close, entwined, his arms resting around you, your face hidden on high collar, stained with dry blood that mixed up with the hot tears you could not – and did not want to – hold back.

Between one sob and another you whispered something that he didn’t understand at first, forcing you to raise your head and repeat the question.

- Did she… ever knew?

You didn’t need to finish the sentence for him to know what you were talking about. Did she ever knew about us? About me?

The answer wasn’t entirely unexpected, considered it was Tajima who gave it to you.

- She might have had her suspicions. But she never got a confirmation. Not from me.

You released a sigh you didn’t noticed you were holding.

- It might sound insensible, but her suspicions don’t matter since she’s no longer here. To be honest, I don’t think they ever mattered. In my own way, I did all I could to be good to her. I’ve never been with anyone but her.

You let a muffled laugh escape, and he interrupted himself.

- What is it?

- She knew, Tajima – your voice came out a bit harsh, but there was no bitterness in you, not anymore – A woman always knows, even if she doesn’t want to. I thought you’ve finally learned to pay attention to your surroundings.

He didn’t reply to this. Instead, he changed the subject in a way that left you surprised both with the change itself and the things implied in what he said.

- So… In this case I haven’t been as discreet as I imagined in my actions towards you.

Actions towards you? But you haven’t even talked in ages.

- Actions? What are you talking about?

Tajima sighed.

- You must know that not everyone is satisfied with your positioning regarding our politics. Some people think you are too loud on your opinions.

You rolled your eyes.

- Tell me something I don’t know.

- Have you never found it strange that nobody had the courage to lay their hands on you despite their hostile attitude towards you? – he replied without changing his tone.

You straightened up and blinked twice.

- Are you suggesting that…

- I’m not suggesting anything – he cut you off – I’m telling you.

So he has been doing his part too. Thanks to his influence and practical measures, you have been protected from enemies inside our own clan. He has been working to maintain the fragile balance in a warring period when it was so much easier to just let you disappear with your dangerous ideology. And why? You didn’t need to ask. You knew why.

He approached his lips to your ear, giving your own words back to you.

- I thought you’ve finally learned to pay attention to your surroundings.

Your fingers squeezed the fabric of his clothing even before you realized what you were doing; you pulled him closer in a tight embrace, not wanting to say anything whether to thank him or to accuse him, not wanting to consider what you should do next. Knowing that he has been watching over you from his place, being the thing that separated you from your enemies when you never asked for protection was like taking off a weight you didn’t even noticed you’ve been carrying, and now you weren’t of what to do with your newly discovered freedom. After all the time of endless work to heal, protect and fight for everyone, finally it came your turn.

Tajima accepted your affective gesture, caressing your hair while smelling and kissing the top of your hair.

- For someone who became a bearer of the Mangekyo Sharingan so soon in your life, you were quick to underestimate the strength of the bonds created by an Uchiha fellow.

With face again hidden on his clothing, you smiled to his words and the sensation of new tears rolling through your cheeks and wetting the dark fabric against them.

- Don’t be so arrogant – you mumbled – It’s easy to triumph over me when I’m not fighting.

It was true that time kept moving and soon you were going to separate from each other, going to your respective places and missions, and your remaining moments together were going to be spent by the side of Madara’s bed, who would wake up within some hours. Yes, it was true that nothing changed except inside you, and with the war not being over yet, you were going to keep walking sideways, never touching each other.

But for now, you could live with that.