Archive of Our Own ^beta

If anyone asked Tobirama, he would answer that the numbering system in the Administrative Tower was a good idea. If an enemy enters the Tower they wouldn't know where to go and which of the offices are more important than the others, since  the doors had only numbers and not names of the departments for everyone to see. It would prolong enemies' stay and there would be a bigger chance to notice and catch them. 

Of course it wasn't a big problem when Tobirama was in the village. He would notice them right away. But one day he will not be there, so he had to make sure that the future generations would have that chance. 

So it was a good idea in that regard. But in day-to-day office life... Tobirama couldn't deny that it was quite confusing for most people. Not everyone could sense where the needed person is sitting. 

That was probably why the Tower’s mail department kept sending him documents that were completely out of his qualification. It's not like Tobirama couldn't understand and work with those documents, but they were supposed to be processed by different departments. Like accounting checks, basic patrol reports that should've gone to the jounin commander, or a whole box of sealing paper that was supposed to go to the sealing department. 

Honestly, it's not like remembering numbers and their corresponding departments was that hard. Though he could understand that it was all still quite new. Not many shinobi worked with documents directly before, and unless they were from the main line or did accounting for the clan, many were quite lost. Tobirama supposed that finding a correct person and their office to kill them is easier than remembering which paper belongs to which department and which office number is the needed one, if you don't work with it long enough. 

Still it was quite annoying. Every morning Tobirama started with sorting through his mail and sending papers that did not belong to him back to mail with notes where those papers actually should go. Sure, he could’ve brought those documents to the right departments himself, but then how would mail-shinobi know that they’d made a mistake?

And it was quite annoying before, but when Tobirama started to get more personal mail, it became much more infuriating. 

Once he got a grocery list from a Yamanaka. Another time, some notes about the Tower's inner relationships drama (to be fair, learning that one of the accountants was supposedly pregnant was useful to know in order to prepare everything for her maternity leave in advance). A love note from a Sarutobi to someone who they didn’t specify in their note (Tobirama couldn’t do much than to send the note back with his own stating that these affairs should stay away from work hours).

The weirdest were, of course, Uchiha notes. They didn’t send them too often, mostly where and when to meet up for spars after work. But some… He really didn’t need to see that little… spicy note addressed to Hikaku. He really didn’t. He was quite content knowing nothing about the love life of the colleague he worked the most with. He was beautiful, but he was clearly taken. And supposedly not by only one person...  

Tobirama tried to bleach it from his memory as soon as possible. But he kept remembering it every time he saw Hikaku working in his office. That table… NO, no, he had to forget. 

There was one more memorable note that he preferred to make his mind busy with. It was from Izuna to Madara. The tone of the note was angry and aggressive and not to mention very dramatic. 

And the worst is that it was written as poetry. What an interesting little fact about his rival, huh.

“Strike down by passion.

The blood-red eyes are blinded.

The most desired

Deadly wave without remorse

Could drown them in a second."

Tobirama barely read it though. He had little taste for poetry. All of the hidden meanings and metaphors of the style that was liked by the noble court in the capital were going through his head without catching on. 

As far as he understood, it was describing Izuna’s older brother's demise by the hands of his… lover? Crush? Izuna used ‘the most desired’ so Tobirama wasn’t sure. Tobirama didn’t know Madara had someone like that, which weirdly stung something inside of him. No matter. Madara’s personal life was not his business. Even though he was quite curious about the personality of said lover. 

Tobirama sent the note to Madara with his own little sticky note complementing Izuna’s skills. Tobirama wasn’t sure if he should be concerned about the identity of that lover. Should he even believe Izuna’s dramatics? If Tobirama had to guess who this note was about, as much as he didn’t like it, Hashirama would be his answer. Even in peace times Izuna still harbored a raging dislike for most Senjus and Madara was glued to Hashirama’s hip since the day they started to construct the village. Tobirama could imagine that Izuna might’ve been mad at his brother for this friendship or even deeper feelings.

But that would be a useless endeavor from Madara’s side. Hashirama was soon to be married to the Uzushio princess. Tobirama hoped that Madara had more sense and would not try to sabotage the marriage, which was both political and by love. Mito wouldn’t be pleased with Madara if he tried to get her fiance for himself. And Tobirama would hate to lose both one of their biggest assets in the village and peace just because of some relationship drama.

Madara thought he would die by sheer mortification and embrassent when he met Tobirama after getting the note from Izuna. He couldn’t believe Tobirama saw that note and even read it. Izuna basically screamed for the whole world to hear that Madara had feelings for the Senju in that note. 

Yes, of course, his stupid little brother weaved it with metaphors and double meanings, but once you read it it’s quite clear who he was talking about. Who else had ‘blood-red eyes’ and ‘could drown you in a second’ in the village? 

Of course, being as professional as he was, Tobirama didn’t indicate that it happened at all with his always stoic and cold facade.

Did he even understand what the note was talking about? Or he just decided to ignore it? Wait, no, if he did he wouldn't send a note of his own with it, right?

“See? He read it, but barely looked at you!” Izuna huffed when he was lounging in Madara’s office at lunch time after that fateful day. 

Maybe Izuna also felt frustrated that Tobirama didn’t react to this blatant confession. 

“It doesn’t mean anything. He’s just professional. Don’t you remember that Sarutobi boy? He basically confessed to him and Tobirama just sent it back, stating to keep it out of the office,” Madara huffed. He was still pissed that this scrawny boy almost stole his chance. Good riddance, Tobirama had a better taste.

“Yeah and proceeded to ignore him the second Sarutobi tried to talk to him after the work hours. Are you even sure he’s gay?” Izuna squinted his eyes, still not happy about Madara trying to pursue Tobirama. 

Honestly, if it was up to Madara, Izuna would never have known before Madara had succeeded. It’s not his fault that Izuna violated his privacy and decided to read his private journal (he needed some outlet for his emotions, okay?). Which was hidden and coded. Nosy brat.

“I’m sure,” Madara stated confidently. 

He wasn't. He never spotted Tobirama having any interest in romance, let alone preferences for men or women. The only clue he had was Hashirama wailing that Tobirama never let him meet his lovers, that he supposedly took in his bed sometimes. Madara wasn’t sure if he should believe that. Hashirama was a questionable resource of information, especially about his brother. 

Madara never understood how he knew so little about his brother’s activities. He knew everything about Izuna’s. Or maybe Tobirama wasn't the one to brag about his bedroom achievements. Unlike someone. 

“Whatever. He’s still not good enough for you,” Izuna mumbled.

“Shush. I don’t judge your whorish tendencies so you aren’t allowed to judge my taste in men,” Madara knew perfectly well that the head of the Uchiha clan having a huge crush on the ‘White Demon’ and ‘the bane of the Uchiha’ was not ideal. 

But how could he not? Tobirama was beautiful, strong, and deadly. But he was still kind, loved children, and even made Hashirama heal his stupid little brother to make sure of peace. Though, of course he caught Izuna as a hostage right after he was healed and the Uchiha and Senju had to decide on time and place for peace talks fast. When Madara asked Hashirama later, he said that even he didn’t know that Tobirama would pull off something like that. But it worked and that’s what mattered.

Of course, Madara was mad that Tobirama almost killed his last surviving little brother, then healed him, but then immediately took him as a hostage a second later. It gave Madara such an emotional whiplash, he thought he’d kill Tobirama on the spot just for being a threat to his brother’s life, peace be damned.

But he couldn't argue that it was a good tactic that actually worked. And it showed perfectly well that Tobirama was no less eager to have peace than his older brother. 

Madara couldn’t be mad at him for long. His brother lived and now they had peace and even a village like he’d dreamed of as a child with Hashirama.

It didn’t take long for him to start falling for the man. Uchiha always had a weakness to smart and deadly people after all.  

“Did you just call me a whore?!” Izuna pulled him out of his head with a scream.

“No, you just have whorish tendencies,” Madara smirked.

With an outraged cry Izuna leaped behind Madara’s table, but he was faster than his little brother, dodging the leap in time and taking his bento with him.

Izuna landed on the chair and fell off it with a loud crash. They didn’t hear a knock behind all the noise and Madara was surprised to see Tobirama’s head poking through the slightly opened door.

“Should I come later?” he asked, meeting Madara’s eyes. Weirdly it made him warm inside. Tobirama met his eyes! A show of trust!

“Ah, no, don’t worry about it,” Madara said, trying to play it cool, like his ears didn’t burn and waving a dismissive motion at Izuna. He's a big boy, he could handle the consequences of fighting with a chair.

“Hm..” Tobirama hummed, then opened the door all the way, eyeing Izuna –who tried to stand as fast as possible, but failed and almost fell again– with amusement, and stepped into Madara’s office. “I have some documents for you to look at.”

“Ah of course,” Madara said, taking his lunch in one hand and taking the documents with the free one, feeling the heat from his ears crawl to his neck and even cheeks (oh goddamn it) at the slight contact of their fingers. Thankfully his ears were hidden behind his hair.

Tobirama barely noticed it, more interested in Izuna’s attempts to get back at least some composure.

“Do you work even at lunch?” Izuna asked Tobirama, huffing and looking ruffled, but at least he finally stood up. 

“I was on my way. I have something for the mail,” Tobirama said, holding up a.. a teddy bear?.. with a disdain on his face. “Any idea who Sarutobi Rei is pursuing? I keep getting his love gifts by mistake. He writes down that it’s for my office, but he never writes for whom exactly these should be.”

“No idea,” Izuna smugly answered, while Madara was looking at the teddy bear as the most offensive toy in existence. What was in that Rei’s head to gift a high profile ninja a teddy bear?

“Give it to me. Maybe I can find the one who that was supposed to be for,” Madara blurted, barely realising what he was saying. 

Tobirama looked at him like he had grown a second head, but then snapped his head at the snickering Izuna. Deciding to ignore Madara’s little brother he once again looked at the Uchiha clan head.

“That’s surprisingly nice of you,” he slowly said, squinting his eyes at Madara. Such close attention gave him a cold sweat and goosebumps along his spine. 

Then Tobirama sighed defeatedly and pushed the teddy into Madara’s hands. 

“Whatever, even if you do that to make fun of him, I don't care. He annoys me,” Tobirama huffed and turned to leave when Izuna’s voice stopped him.

“What did he do?”

“Someone gave him the idea that I could be some sort of romance counsellor for him,” Tobirama turned back, clearly eager to vent about this man to someone. Even if these someone were the Uchiha he was still keeping clear distance with. 

“You? A romance counsellor?” Izuna asked, not hiding his amused smirk. 

“He keeps asking me about ideal dates and where to go and such things,” Tobirama scrunched up his nose. “I don't understand why he keeps asking me of all people, I don't have much experience in dating. Hm, maybe I should direct him to you next time, Izuna.”

Even through his light stupor (he will deny it to his dying breaths that it was because of Tobirama’s presence) Madara couldn't not turn to Izuna and mouth 'whore’ to him, while Tobirama was distracted. 

Immediately Izuna turned red with anger.

“Fuck you both! I'm not some kind of a whore! It's not my fault I'm unlucky with dating!”

“I never said you were?” Tobirama asked, blinking with surprise. 

“You implied it!” Izuna pointed a finger to Tobirama and then moved it to his brother. “And you!..”

“I.. it was not my intention,” Tobirama said quietly with a sigh, bringing a hand to his face and massaging his temple. “Doesn't matter. I'm leaving for lunch.”

With that Tobirama left, closing the door behind him. 

Madara stayed planted on his spot, still looking at the door.

“I can't believe you,” Izuna huffed, sitting on Madara's chair with a noise. 

“What?” Madara asked, getting out of his head and looking at his younger brother. 

“You have shit taste in men. He calls your younger brother a whore and you agree with him!” Izuna threw his hands up in the air.

“He’s not wrong. No Uchiha should date so many people in such a short time,” Madara huffed, walking to his table and putting his half-eaten bento, the documents, and the teddy there.

“Asshole!” Izuna threw a pen at his face, which Madara dodged by a slight face tilt. “At least I date and don’t pine over a pale ghost!” 

“Shut it,” Madara growled, catching Izuna’s ponytail and pulling on it hard. If Tobirama, by some miracle, didn't catch it from Izuna’s note, he wouldn't let Izuna out his feelings for Tobirama through screams from another room.

“Ow-ow-ow! Aniki!” Izuna cried trying to catch Madara’s hand and pry it from his hair. 

After another brotherly scuffle, like they were not 25 but 5, they finally sat down with their hair tangled and in a mess even more than usual. Though Madara was quite satisfied, since Izuna had to take off his hair tie and try to comb through it with his fingers to salvage his looks.

Madara wouldn't even try with his hair. It would be useless. He had more chances to lose his fingers or an unlucky comb if he tried to tame it. 

“What will you do with it?” Izuna asked, nodding at the teddy bear that fell down on its side while the brothers were fighting. “Gonna destroy it just because it was intended for Tobirama?” 

“No,” Madara smirked with an evil glint in his eyes. “I'm going to get rid of competition.”

Finding a low rank naive girl in the Hokage Tower was a challenge, but with a well placed genjutsu it was easy to convince her that this teddy bear was indeed a gift for her from Sarutobi Rei as well as the other notes that were just lost in the mail. 

Starting a rumor that the guy was pursuing her and not Tobirama was also so easy. Ensuring that Sarutobi Sasuke, the clan’s head, knew about the blooming courtship was even easier.

Madara didn’t like competition in matters of the heart. But he quite liked the idea of sending gifts. He just hoped they would be received better than Sarutobi’s.

Tobirama was quite pleased to know that the Sarutobi boy finally got his wits together and started the official courtship with the girl from the archives. Tobirama had grown tired of his endless chatter and company. 

But at least the sweet notes and gifts wouldn’t appear on his desk anymore.

Or so he thought. Clearly the universe decided to play a joke on him.

The morning he found a brand new package of ink on his table, he first thought that it was just a usual delivery of new stationery from the secretary. But then he noticed a note. 

“To Tobirama Senju. A gift for you to keep playing with deadly seals and inventing even deadlier ones.”

Oh. That was sealing ink. It was quite an expensive gift for an outsider. The Senju clan bought it directly from Uzushio and since they were allied clans they had a good discount in exchange for fresh crops and Mokuton wood. So it was not like Tobirama was in need of more sealing ink. He had plenty. But it was a thoughtful and, once again, expensive gift.

Who could’ve given him something like this?

Tobirama checked again and found no signature.

Shinobi paranoia inevitably kicked in and Tobirama checked the note and the package for seals, poison, and other surprises, but found nothing. 

It made him frown even more. Why would someone give him such a nice gift and choose to stay unknown?

Tobirama decided to check in with the patrol on the floor to check if they saw someone entering his office. No one did. Hm, maybe he should advise Madara, as their jounin commander, to up the training for patrols. 

Even though he didn’t find out who that mysterious person who gave him sealing ink was, Tobirama still took the whole package home. No reason to waste perfectly good ink.

The gifts didn’t stop there. 

From that day on, Tobirama received nice or encouraging notes addressed to him every day and sometimes a gift. During two weeks he received new brushes for writing, sealing, and just plain calligraphy, as well as a whole box of different teas.

It was baffling. Every gift was addressed exactly for him, combined with a message. And every time he got something new he checked the presents and notes for something malicious, but they were completely normal and safe. Honestly, Tobirama thought he was going crazy. 

“Anija, why would someone gift expensive things to another without leaving a signature?” Tobirama asked one evening, looking into his tea cup. 

“Oh? Gifts? Oh Sage, Tobirama, did you get a secret admirer?” Hashirama gasped, his eyes full of excitement. 

“Is that the only reason someone would do that? Romance?” Tobirama frowned.

“Wait, wait, fill me in, what did they gift you?” Hashirama waved his hands and Tobirama had no other choice but to report what exactly he was gifted and what the notes said.

When he was done Hashirama whistled, “Those are good gifts. And someone clearly knows you well.”

“That’s the thing. Why would someone do that and prefer to stay hidden?” Tobirama huffed. “Isn’t the main reason for gifts to get a better standing with the person they’re gifted to? What’s the point if I don't know to whom I should express my gratitude and send a reciprocating gift?”

“Maybe that’s why? If that admirer really harbors romantic feelings for you then they decided to stay anonymous just so you wouldn’t feel obligated to give them something back?” Hashirama assumed. “Maybe they just want you to be happy? Which is great! You need some more love in your life! You even turned down that Sarutobi boy that was following you around.”

“He did not. He was just asking me for romantic advice. Me of all people,” Tobirama scrunched up his nose and sipped his tea. He was ready to accept that he was not the most knowledgeable person in terms of romance. The most he did was occasional hook-ups to let off some steam and destress. Though with the invention of Kage Bunshin it was not needed to find someone else anymore.

Hashirama deeply sighed for some reason.

“Never mind. I still don’t know how he got roped up into that marriage,” he mumbled into his own cup.

“So, the… admirer,” Tobirama scrunched up his nose at the word. “What should I do about it?”

“We can try to catch them!” Hashirama smiled with a whimsy in his eyes, clearly eager for some fun activity in the Tower. 

“I tried to track them down, but they’re quite elusive. I suspect they’re using the mail, because no one else visited my office when I was not there,” Tobirama said. 

The idea of catching the admirer was intriguing. He couldn’t lie to himself, the idea that someone liked him enough to start paying attention to him and his needs so much that they gifted him things was very flattering. 

“Oh, maybe they are from the mail!”

“Not likely. I’m not that close with them. That person knew that I needed new weapon polish, which I mentioned only in the jounin lounge. So they are high enough in the rank to be there,” Tobirama said, trying to remember who was in the lounge that day. 

“A jounin, huh,” Hashirama huffed. “Well it’s less people to look at then.”

Tobirama absently nodded. He clearly remembered Madara being there, since it was hard to miss his presence and he was the one who he actually talked about weapon polish. Could it be?..

No. 

No.

It’s not possible. Tobirama should kill this hope before it left him with a broken heart. 

Tobirama sipped on his tea to distract himself and tried to listen to Hashirama's excited babble once again. 

Madara wasn’t sure if the presents worked per se. But he was happy to see Tobirama actually using them, which warmed him from the inside and left him with a ridiculous smile every time he noted that Tobirama wrote with his new ornate brush or sealed important letters with fancy capital wax.

Maybe it was a bit cowardly that he hid behind unsigned notes and presents. But he needed to check if Tobirama didn’t mind this kind of attention and if he would even accept those gifts from a man.

Of course, Madara didn’t leave his signature, but he was still writing them in a clearly male tone. He tried not to write about himself a lot, more concentrating on Tobirama, but he still used some ‘ore’ to express his gender. 

And Tobirama did accept the gifts from a man. That meant he was right. Tobirama did like men. Take that, Izuna.

But now it posed a question: Why did he turn down the Sarutobi boy? Though Madara can’t blame him, scrawny boys like him were not to his tastes either. 

So now he had to check if Tobirama would be interested in him.

“Tobirama,” he called after a meeting with the Konoha clan council. 

It was a swift meeting. The main theme was basically decided. For now there were not many conflicts. Uchiha and Senju were mostly (and shockingly) in harmony with each other. The recently joined Sarutobi and Shimura as well as the big addition of the trinity clans Shika-Ino-Cho were still being careful, trying to integrate themselves into the new village more or less painlessly. Sure, once the new clans got used to the village and the dynamics inside of it, it would get more turbulent and the clans would try to push against the boundaries of the founders’ clans, but for now it was quiet. 

And maybe the meeting was wrapped up so soon because everyone was eager to go to lunch.

Tobirama turned around, taking all of his notes in his hands and hiding it in a small storage seal on his belt. 

“Yes, Uchiha-sama?” Tobirama asked, arching a brow.

“Stop that,” Madara snapped in annoyance. “The meeting is done, drop the honorifics. It doesn’t suit you.”

“It’s only proper,” Tobirama shrugged. “Did you want something?”

“Yes. Are you heading for lunch?”

“I.. yes, I wanted to leave my notes in my office and go. Why?”

“Join me,” Madara said in a no nonsense tone, making Tobirama’s brows rise and almost completely hide behind his happuri.

“Don’t you usually have lunch with your brother?”

“He can join his current sweetheart for that. I wanted to try the new restaurant with seafood by Akimichi. As much as I would love to see Izuna throw up from one look at the food, I’d like to eat in peace.”

“So you asked.. me?” Tobirama frowned. “Why not Hashirama?”

“I said I wanted to eat in peace. Now come one, I’d like to get a table without intimidating civilians. They’re scared enough of me as is.” Madara huffed, taking Tobirama’s sleeve on his elbow and pulling him to Tobirama’s office so he could drop off his notes.

“Right…” Tobirama slowly answered, but followed in silence.

Oh, what Madara would give up to know what the Senju was thinking about at that moment. But never mind. He got his lunch-date and Tobirama didn’t even try to escape or invent an excuse not to go even after he left his stacks of barely-organized-in-a-hurry notes on his table. Hm, an idea… 

Tobirama didn’t know why exactly Madara decided to grace him with his presence and ask him to have lunch together, but he wouldn't object. He was curious about the new restaurant himself. The Akimichi had a good taste for food and if they opened a special sea-food restaurant it meant that it should serve quality fish. 

Still he’d had little reason to visit it yet. For lunch Tobirama preferred either buying something that he could eat in his office or bentos that Hashirama prepared for both of them. It was easier and he could spend more time working than just going out to find a place to eat, eating, and then going back. Eating in the office was more efficient. 

But since Madara invited him (for some unfathomable reason) he’d like to take his chance. 

“Izuna doesn’t like seafood?” he asked Madara when they sat down. They got there in time to take a little more private place with a view of the door and windows that any good shinobi favoured. 

The restaurant was quite fancy for a village like theirs. Sure, nothing that would make a usual noble from the capital interested in even trying to step inside, but for the shinobi village it was quite luxurious. Padded chairs, expensive wooden tables and drapes up in the ceiling. Shinobi were much more used to basic taverns and shabby bars. 

Looks like Akimichi tried to appeal to any nobles who would inevitably come to Konoha to order missions. 

What a nice change of pace.

“He’s just being a baby. He ate one stale fish and suddenly everything that comes from the sea is uneatable,” Madara huffed, looking over the menu.

Tobirama scrunched up his nose in distaste. How could anyone not like fish? He didn’t voice his thoughts, still not sure of Madara’s reaction. Tobirama was biased on this point anyway. At least Madara didn’t share his little brother’s opinion.

“Did you want to discuss something with me?” he asked instead. Madara chose quite a private table, away from prying ears. Just right for some serious discussions. 

“Can’t I ask a colleague to check out a new place in the village?” Madara asked in turn, quickly turning pages of the menu.

“Sure. Colleague,” Tobirama said dumbfounded. 

Seriously? Just, what, because Madara didn’t have company for lunch and didn’t want to eat alone in a new fancy place? Still, why didn’t he ask Hashirama then? Or maybe Tobirama’s assumption was wrong and he didn’t try to break off Hashirama’s engagement with Mito? Still, they were best friends. Tobirama and Madara barely knew each other.

At these words Madara suddenly turned red and slammed the menu on the table.

“Are you done?” he asked, almost glaring at the menu in Tobirama’s hands.

“Ah, yes,” Tobirama blinked, nodding. He knew what he liked and it was easy to choose.

“Good. I’ll call the waiter,” Madara said curtly, turning to call, but the waiter almost materialised near them as if waiting for them to order. Which was quite possible. Both of them were high profile shinobi in the village and had a status as founders. 

The waiter swiftly took their orders, clearly mindful not to take any more of their lunch time than necessary. Or maybe he was afraid of Madara’s temper.

“So… Have anything new these days?” Madara asked and then visibly despaired at his own words, putting a hand over his face and eyes. His chakra grew cold like he was on the verge of despair.

Tobirama could relate. He also hated the small talk.

“Let’s not torture each other with a pointless exchange of niceties,” he said, with a frown.

“Oh thank the Sage,” Madara mumbled, taking it away.

“Was it because of Anija? He likes such talks,” Tobirama asked absentmindedly. 

Madara grunted in response.

“It gets him to talk and fill the silence,” he said.

Tobirama hummed again and the air was filled with silence again. Tobirama didn’t mind silence, but with the way Madara fidgeted and clearly despairing over the fact that they were not talking, it was way too tense to be comfortable.

“Did you read the Hyuuga missive?” Tobirama asked in the end. 

“Oh, I did,” Madara sneered, but caught on to the topic like a dying man. “Arrogant as always. Do they really expect we will tolerate a slave seal in our village?”

Tobirama nodded and joined in the conversation to bitch about Hyuuga and the tone in their missive. Honestly, it looked like the Hyuuga thought they would do them a favor by joining Konoha.

All in all, the lunch with Madara was surprisingly nice. The food was good and the man across the table never lost his temper even once, which Tobirama counted as a win in his books.

Since that day lunches like that became a common occurrence. Of course sometimes they ate in the company of Hashirama, or, which was more exhausting, Izuna. At first Tobirama thought Madara would ditch him in favour of his best friend or younger brother, but Madara always preferred his company over theirs. It was unexpected. But it filled Tobirama’s chest with warmth, like someone poured honey over his heart.

He just hoped this feeling wouldn’t turn into something else. Worse or better. 

***

The notebook on his table was an item of luxury. Honestly, some would think that this admirer liked to throw money around just because of the sheer prices of those gifts. 

The notebook itself was the usual paper size, so he could put it in his work folder if needed. Not too small and not too big. 

And it was thick. A lot of pages, made out of quality paper. Tobirama could already imagine how nice it would be to sketch or write down his ideas in it. 

It also had a leather cover. A dark purple leather cover. One of the most expensive dyes, which was reserved for noble clans 

“Like the Uchiha clan,” a little voice in his head reminded. Tobirama waved the nagging thought off.

From the stamp on the inside of the notebook, it was made by the Inuzuka clan. How did they…? The negotiations with the Inuzuka and Hatake clans started just a week ago! The clans were interested in joining, even the ever nomadic Hatake. Did they trade with some Konoha shinobi, while negotiating? 

Well it certainly narrowed down the search of who was trying to shower Tobirama with gifts. Not many people accompanied the Hokage on their meeting with the two sister clans. Tobirama himself missed that meeting, since he had to be in the village to be sure that nothing would happen while Hashiarma and Madara were absent. Even though Tobirama was closer with the Hatake clan, it was smart to send both the Hokage, who was a Senju, and the Uchiha clan head, to show their unity. Not to mention that Tobirama, as the acting Senju clan head, was way too busy.

So Madara was there too. Maybe he was the one– 

No, he should stop that train of thought. 

Tobirama squeezed his eyes closed for a moment and looked at the notebook once again. Weirdly enough, it didn’t have a note with it, except the one that said to whom and to which office the package should be delivered. 

He opened the notebook and skimmed through pages but didn't find anything inside. It seemed his admirer decided to leave him without notes this time. Or maybe he hid it somehow? Tobirama should examine it closer.

He was stopped by the knocking on his office door. Right. Work.

Tobirama put down the notebook and called a worker from the sealing department to enter. 

The notebook was not the only gift Tobirama got that indicated that his admirer had visited the Inuzuka and Hatake clans lately. 

Furs were a big give away of that. The fur blanket would’ve cost a small fortune. Though Tobirama couldn’t lie, it was very warm. Maybe not fitted for Konoha’s winter, but for ever-cold Tobirama it was perfect.

But the biggest indicator that his admirer had visited the Hatake clan was special scented oils and hair accessories: many beads, combs, hair ties, colorful ribbons. It was clearly made by his mother’s clan. They always grew long hair and took care of it meticulously. Hatake braids were a whole other language.

Tobirama himself never grew long hair, even though his aunt, his mother’s twin sister, always tried to pressure him to do it and be a ‘proper’ Hatake. He just found it bothersome. His hair was too light and it became frizzy if he grew it out too long. It also tickled his neck too much and he couldn't bear the feeling and cut it off with a kunai. 

(Sometimes he envied Hashirama, who grew out his hair to appeal to their aunt more. Pity she still saw him as Butsuma’s son, and not Yuuka’s. Hashirama had luscious silky and soft hair, which was begging to be braided. Sometimes Tobirama did indulge his own wishes. And Hashirama was all too happy to get attention from his little brother and get his hair taken care of.

Tobirama hoped that once Mito married him he would still be allowed to touch his brother’s hair.)

Tobirama looked at the box of accessories and took the note to read what his admirer had to say this time.

“You don’t have long hair, but I was told it’s only proper to care for a loved one’s hair. Hope I could try to braid yours one day.”

He... He studied Hatake’s traditions. Tobirama couldn’t hold off a fierce blush from his face. Tobirama was never interested in Senju’s courting traditions, which were too complex just for the complexity of it. But Hatake’s always appealed to him. They were simpler and way more understandable for Tobirama than Senju’s hints.

Gifts were a big part of Hatake’s courting.

Tobirama fiercely wished that his admirer would show himself already. 

(He had a prime suspect, but he was too scared to say anything in case he was mistaken. He couldn’t be sure if it was just wishful thinking that was clouding his mind.)

Madara was starting to get impatient. His gifts became more elaborate and more personal, but he still wasn’t sure if Tobirama actually liked them. Yes, he still used the brush, but he never saw him wearing the furs or hair accessories he gifted him. Was it too much? Did he not like them?

Not to mention the notebook. Was it a flop too? He didn’t see Tobirama using it and he never approached him…

Madara groaned to himself, banging his head at the table. 

Maybe he should get bolder.

Okay, Madara could admit that he might've gotten overboard with gifts. He already spent most of his own money, even dabbing a little into his own savings and some… others. 

After buying things from the Hatake and Inuzuka clan, he was cornered near the money safe by Hikaku and got thoroughly berated for spending too much money on courting.

“Isn't it only proper to shower a clan heir with gifts when courting?” Madara asked, making his older cousin pause in his rant. He was not afraid to show who he was courting around his family. 

(Almost the whole clan already knew who Madara was courting. No one dared to say anything against it, even though Madara was in love with the Senju Demon. But for the sanity of their clan head they couldn’t say anything. That’s the least they could do for the person who led them to peace and stability after endless years of turbulent war with the Senju, allowing them to recover and grow into the title of the true noble clan they are.)  

“Usually, it is. But should I remind you, that our clan is still recovering after years of war induced poverty,” Hikaku frowned. “I know you have bad relationships with money, Madara-sama, that's why I do our clan’s accounting. But that's also exactly why I'm telling you to get away from the safe.”

“And what would you do if I didn't?” Madara challenged. He did not appreciate anyone trying to interfere with his courting and keeping him away from his beloved.

“Ah, simple. I would just tell Tobirama-san about it. I doubt he appreciates men who spend the clan's money on personal things,” Hikaku softly smiled, but Madara could see through him. The devil incarnate.

So Madara had to back off and go earn his own pocket money. Honestly, he felt like a teen again, choosing missions not because they were looking fun and would allow him to dance with some strong opponents, but because they paid well enough. 

For the most part they were boring. Many nobles wished high status shinobi for their escort missions. Madara grumbled, but they did pay well enough so he had to close his mouth and do his job. 

Though he did find something good on these kinds of missions. 

Like from the little Uzushio mission. A simple courier mission. Usually Madara would not take these kinds of missions, but since Hashirama heard that Madara started going on missions again, he asked him (very awkwardly and shyly) to send his fiance a personal letter. Their correspondence was monitored by the hime’s family, but Hashirama wanted to write her something more personal and send a gift with it.

The Hokage paid well enough for the secrecy of it. Madara got more letters to the Uzumaki family for a cover and an excuse that he wanted to see the Uzushio island by himself.  

And he was all too happy to help Tobirama to deliver his own letter to Mito-hime, while he was at it and buy more Uzumaki special ink in his stead. 

The mission was swift. He didn't have any issues and slipping a sealing scroll with the secret letters into Mito’s hands unnoticed was all too easy. He didn't like this woman too much, but he could tell that the secrecy of her correspondence with her future husband and brother-in-law amused her. 

(Madara’s ever romantic heart longed for this kind of romance with his love too. How exciting would it be to exchange letters and write romantic poetry?)

A bonus of the trip was that Madara found everything Tobirama asked him for and even more. He bought him some complicated sealing scrolls by the Uzumaki princess’s advice and in addition some scroll cases heavy with defensive seals. 

He hoped Tobirama would like them and that it was worth the whole mission’s pay he got.

***

Upon returning to Konoha Madara headed straight for the Administrative Tower. But not to give Mito’s answer to Hashirama. 

No, he approached Tobirama’s office first.

“Come in, Madara!” he heard even before he knocked on the door. Ah, so Tobirama felt him hover outside the door.

Madara opened it and strode in.

“You took your time in Uzushio,” Tobirama noted first, inspecting Madara’s road dusted clothes.

“Your witch of a friend didn’t let me go until she wrote answers for you,” he huffed. It was one of the reasons. Mito took her time writing, since Madara was running around Uzushio like a headless chicken looking for a perfect gift.

“Ah, I see,” Tobirama said, while Madara started to unpack.

“A letter from her,” he said when he pulled it out from his hip bag and placed it onto the table. “And… something from me. You can open it, if you want.”

Madara placed two scroll cases on the table near the letter. They were beautiful as much as functional, painted red and decorated with gold. The seals looked like intricate designs rather than being there for functionality. 

“Inside there’s two scrolls. One with everything you asked for and the other I bought for you,” Madara said, turning his head to the window and unintentionally covering his face just to not meet Tobirama’s eye. He was never there to see the initial reaction the Senju had for his gifts and it made him nervous.

It was quiet for a while. Then he heard a soft clatter of a brush put in its place and clothes shuffling. 

No, he could not bear to not see.

Madara jerked his head, making his hair fall on his back rather than on his shoulder so he could eye Tobirama’s reaction.

It did not disappoint. 

Tobirama was examining scroll cases with a pointed and shiny curiosity in his eyes, not even trying to open them yet.

“Where did you get it?” he asked, still looking at the cases and not even trying to  look at Madara, too enchanted by the complicated weave of seals on the tubes. 

“On Uzushio,” Madara answered almost breathlessly, turning to look closer at the fascinated face of his beloved. Oh he wished he could record it with his sharingan so that the memory of it would stay with him forever. 

Too bad his love was always so vigilant and on edge even in the safety of the village and activating sharingan would surely trigger something in him because of the years of war.  

Tobirama’s eyes snapped on him with annoyance.

“I know, but from whom? I’ve been to Uzushio before and I've never seen anything like it,” he asked, once again returning to the scroll he held in his hand and placing a finger pad on the seal to trace it with it. 

Madara could barely contain his mind that offered him a picture of Tobirama tracing a vein on his–

“Ah, well…” Madara said, crossing his arms over his chest just to pinch his own hand hard enough to jerk his thoughts out of the gutter. “It’s a new sealing master that the Hime recommended. He was quite young, but I can’t deny his talent, even though I don’t have much expertise in the arts of sealing.”

“Hm, maybe I could visit him later,” Tobirama murmured, but then put aside the case he was examining. Madara thought he’d take the second one, but instead his red eyes locked with black. “Thank you, Madara. The cases are exquisite. How much do I owe you?”

“What? I will not take money from you, so don’t bother” Madara said hurriedly, feeling his cheeks starting to heat up.

“No? It couldn’t be cheap,” Tobirama said, frowning.

“I said don’t bother!” Madara pressed, almost mad that Tobirama wanted to give him money for the gift. Then he halted. Fuck, he promised himself to control his temper around Tobirama! “I... I have to go. I still have Mito-hime’s letter to Hashirama. Enjoy your scrolls,” Madara said, feeling like a total fool, his face now bright red right down his neck. 

To save the last of his honor he ran off to the Hokage office, barely looking at Tobirama’s shocked expression.

(Tobirama was baffled by such a reaction. Madara Uchiha running? No one would believe him if he spoke of it.  

But he couldn’t deny how warm and excited Madara’s chakra was, when he gave him those… gifts. 

Should Tobirama dare to hope?)

The next secret gift Madara planned for Tobirama was a weapon. It would be blasphemous to not gift it to his beloved. Uchiha always valued strong partners who could protect themselves, their loved one, and their children if they happened to have some. It was only proper to gift them something that they could do their duty with.

Maybe Madara and Tobirama could never have children of their own, since they were both men, but Tobirama had enough students to count them as such. And it was hard to overlook the way Hikaku’s orphaned nephew Kagami looked up to his sensei as if he was his real father.

Seeing Tobirama with a black-haired child was making Madara’s insides melt. He could almost imagine that Kagami was their own. 

Once Madara caught himself with such thoughts, he knew he had to hurry. He was already thinking of children, but Tobirama was still not his, not claimed and anyone could still snatch him right from under Madara’s nose. That wouldn’t do.

So now Madara was busy in the Uchiha forge, picking up blacksmithing again. He had helped there before, ever since he was a child training to control the fire in his veins. 

Every Uchiha child who wished to be a shinobi tried to work in the forge or glassmaking to train their endurance, and also to learn to have a healthy respect  for the fire. As much as it was useful it was still dangerous to play with. Blacksmiths and glassmakers were always good teachers of it, as well as showing that fire could be not only a destructive force, but also something to create with. 

Before he became a clan head, Madara spent a lot of time in the forge. It was a good place to destress himself, hammering the red-hot ingot into the weapon and shaping it the way he wanted, striving for perfection. Of course he was not a professional, but he was good enough to make his own weapons if he wanted to. 

Sadly, lately, with the clan matters, Konoha, and his courting, he barely had the time to visit the forge and try to make something of his own.

But now he should and he will outdo himself and forge the most beautiful and deadly weapon the Uchiha had ever seen.

Tobirama started to get worried about Ma-... his admirer. There was a big pause with gifts, which made him worry. Was the admirer disappointed that Tobirama didn’t approach him after the last gift? Now he felt regret for not doing so. He was too entranced by reading the scrolls and studying the seals that he barely remembered to eat and sleep, not to mention that the number of his social interactions were down to almost zero. It was only thanks to his older brother he was still healthy and not suffering from exhaustion and malnutrition. 

Should he visit the admirer himself? Or should he wait for the man to come to him anyway? He was still unsure about the identity. He only had one true proof and nothing else. What if he was wrong? If so, Tobirama would rather die than face the embarrassment.

Tobirama decided to wait. 

Waiting was harder than he anticipated. He would lie if he said that he didn’t monitor Madara at all times. The man still went to the Tower to do his work, but he also spent much more time in the clan's compound. And his chakra was so hot, almost blazing.

He would assume that Madara was training, but his chakra grew so hot when he was right in the middle of the compound, surrounded by other Uchiha in similar states. They all felt like burning stars to his senses, he barely could distinguish who was who. 

It was concerning. He even tried to ask Kagami, who was Madara’s student in the Uchiha clan and even called him a shishou, but the little shit said nothing, even when he clearly knew something. 

But by the reaction of his student Tobirama could tell it was nothing bad, so the only thing he could do was to wait for it to reveal itself.

Tobirama noticed Madara’s chakra stalking towards the Tower in the early morning. He noticed it only because Uchiha’s chakra was once again blazing hot, but now it was also curling in an anxious manner, distracting him from this night’s binge research. 

Still filled with the desire to know and not having patience for today, Tobirama couldn't help himself.

He quickly put a chakra suppressing seal on himself and followed. Of course, being an excellent shinobi, Madara noticed the tail, even though Tobirama was thoroughly hidden. Tobirama felt his chakra tighten up, but the man didn’t stop. 

Tobirama wasn’t sure what exactly he felt when he realised that Madara was heading towards his office. Madara shouldn’t have keys. There were only three keys for his office. Tobirama had his own on him. So did he bribe the janitor? Or stole it from Hashirama?

He had no answer so he watched Madara open his office and sneak in, eyeing halls with the sharingan. The alarm seals were quiet, since the door was opened with a key that had the right seal on it. Without it, the seals would alert Tobirama about the intrusion immediately. 

Well he can’t make Madara think he was just paranoid?

Quietly, Tobirama walked into his own office, alerting Madara only when the door closed with a soft click, disabling the suppressing seal at the same time.

Madara turned from the table with a tense attack-ready body and sharingan in his eyes.

“Did you need anything, Uchiha-sama?” Tobirama asked in a silky voice. He was very satisfied with himself, catching one of the strongest shinobi in the world off guard. 

“I.. Tobirama…” Madara stammered, holding something in his hand close to his back, like it was a precious thing that he wished Tobirama not to look at.

“I'm curious what the Uchiha clan head would need in my office so early in the morning that I'm not there yet,” the Senju mused, activating a muffling seal on his door and locking it behind him, eyes not leaving the Uchiha.

“I… uh–” 

Madara then sighed deeply, trying to make his body relax and get his composure back, since he was caught red handed. 

“Here. This is for you,” he said stiffly, extending his arm to Tobirama and holding the package he had tried to hide before.

“For me?” Tobirama arched his brow, but walked closer to the Uchiha. He had no reason to not trust Madara after almost two years of peace, but the breaking into his office was throwing him off. 

“Yes. Open it and I will explain,” Madara said, emphasising his words with a little shake of his arm, bringing Tobirama’s attention to the package again.

Slowly Tobirama took the package in his hands. It was pretty heavy and it intrigued him only more. It was packaged in cloth wrapping, so Tobirama had to pull on the strings keeping it together to unwrap it. 

Inside was a sheathed knife. Tobirama looked up at Madara with raised brows. He nodded and Tobirama took it as a permission to unsheath it from its leather holster.  

The knife was beautiful. The blade was made of a dark shiny metal and had a slightly curved shape that only accentuated its grace. The handle was adorned with many intricate swirls in its design but was also perfect to write seals on. Even with its beauty the handle laid in Tobirama’s hand comfortably, like it was made just for–

“What is this?” he asked breathlessly, taking his eyes off the knife. 

“It's a gift. For you,” Madara answered quietly, seemingly rooted to his spot, his sharingan swirling in his eyes.

“A gift?” Tobirama repeated. He could not believe it. It was…

“Yes. I hope you like it,” a small smile appeared on Uchiha’s face. 

Like it was not clear for his sharingan that Tobirama absolutely loved it.

“I.. I do like it. But why?” 

“I…” Madara trailed off and then asked something Tobirama would never think of. “Would you like to go to the Rinne festival with me, Tobirama?”

Pause.

Maybe Tobirama was dreaming? Fell asleep on his table again? Hashirama would be mad if so…

Tobirama took the knife firmer in his hand and put the knife’s blade to his finger pad. Just before the blade kissed his skin, his wrist was caught by a larger hand, making him look up.

“What are you doing?!” Madara yelled, but Tobirama could only think how close their faces were.

“I think it is a dream. Obviously I have to check it myself,” Tobirama said, eyes still locked on Madara’s face, eyes tracing every feature and engraving it in his memory. He didn’t have a sharingan, but he had a good memory nonetheless. But his eyesight on the other hand… He could not pass on the opportunity to memorise Madara so close up. 

The man paused, but then took a deep sign, carefully taking the knife from Tobirama’s hand, which he allowed, and moved closer, putting a hand on his.

Then Madara pinched his forearm.

“Oi!” Tobirama growled at the distraction and little pain. He wore a short sleeved kimono the night before and didn’t change out of it when he decided to stalk Madara this morning.

“See? Not a dream,” Madara smirked, placing a hand on the pinched place, softly caressing it in apology. “Dreaming of me so much that you can’t differentiate what’s reality without some pain now, Senju? 

Tobirama felt his cheeks grow impossibly warm. He was sure he resembled a tomato in seconds. 

“So, your answer?” Madara asked, stepping even closer. They were so close that Madara craned his neck back so that he could still look into Tobirama’s eyes. For some reason it made Tobirama even warmer. 

Up so close Tobirama would see the tomoe, little commas, which slowly swirled around Madara’s pupil, hypnotizing him in it. He could not deny that he was always fascinated by the dojutsu of the enemies of his clan. At first because the sharingan was as red as his own eyes. But later because of the impossible abilities it contained, which he was so curious about. 

He never could look so close before. Doing that meant death. But now he could see in detail how it shined so bright. Maybe once he would have flinched away, but how could he when the red was surrounded by soft wrinkles that could only appear by smiling?

For once the deadly red eyes did not mean danger but something else.

“I will not disclose the contents of my dreams,” he huffed, trying to distract himself and pull his thoughts away from the alluring swirl of red and black.

“I mean the Rinne festival,” Madara answered, tomoe swirling faster, which could mean danger, but now it felt like it was a reaction to Madara’s amusement. “Though I would love to hear about your dreams too.”

“Absolutely not,” Tobirama answered quickly, not thinking it through. He only realised the implications when Madara flinched back from him, stepping back, his face closing off and chakra pained as if Tobirama stabbed him with the gifted knife. Now it was Tobirama’s turn to chase the man.

“Wait, no, that’s not what I meant,” Tobirama caught Madara’s arms with his hands and pressed his hips to his table, not making it easier for the man to run off.

“So then what did you mean, Senju?” Madara hissed, squirming in place, but not breaking out of Tobirama’s hold. He was not meeting his eyes anymore.

“I…” Tobirama started, but he couldn’t stand not looking into Madara’s eyes now. He put a hand onto Uchiha’s cheek, softly cupping it and directing the man to look at him again. He was met with dark eyes. That won’t do.

“Turn your sharingan on, please. I would hate it if you remember this as a rejection,” he said. 

Madara looked at him with distrust, but his chakra jumped as if in excitement or hope and his eyes turned red, tomoes swirling faster than ever.

Tobirama deeply inhaled as if jumping into the water and said, “I would love to go with you to the festival, Madara.”

A silent second. It felt way too long.

Then suddenly Tobirama felt Madara’s chakra bursting, getting impossibly warm and something soft against his lips.

Ah, he was being kissed.

And he was being kissed by Madara.

Tobirama closed his eyes to fully concentrate on the kiss, pressing back, which earned him an eager moan. He felt Madara struggle against his hands, pulling one hand out. He heard the knife being thrown on the table and then a hand in his hair, pulling him closer in the kiss.

Madara was a passionate kisser but soon the kiss became borderline possessive. Soon Tobirama was held by his hair, hugged by his waist and even a leg was thrown over his thigh just to keep him closer. 

Not that he minded. He enjoyed being so close to Madara, kissing him back with the same enthusiasm and holding him close: one arm on his waist and the other on the thigh that was not letting him go too far.

The kiss ended only because they were still only human and needed to breathe air.

They were breathing hard, their chests heaving and hearts beating so loud it felt like the whole Konoha could hear them.

Madara was gorgeous. He was sitting on the table (when did that happen?) legs parted to make room for Tobirama to stand between them. The early morning sunrise was hitting him from the side, illuminating his beautiful features, making the red kissed lips shine with the saliva from the kiss. 

“Tobirama,” Madara called with a raspy voice, holding onto Tobirama with an intention of never letting go.

“Yes?” he answered, softly brushing Madara’s hair back and kissing the man’s temple.

“Can you do that fancy jutsu of yours and teleport us to your place?” Madara asked, nosing along Tobirama’s jaw and peppering it with kisses.

“Do you wish for us to be interrupted by Hashirama?” Tobirama huffed, but his insides were slowly melting under the attention. “Maybe yours?”

“Izuna,” Madara grumbled, now busy kissing Tobirama’s neck and even sucking on it, no doubt with a goal of leaving marks.

“Ah,” Tobirama half-answered half-moaned at the amount of attention on his neck.

“Close the blinds then. We have time before office hours,” Madara said, placing his hands on Tobirama’s ass and pulling him closer to catch his lips in another kiss.

Somehow Tobirama wasn’t surprised that their first time would happen in the office. 

Well, at least Tobirama locked the door.