“Are you sure you have everything?” Hashirama asked, wringing his hands as he followed Tobirama out to the moving truck. After depositing the last box, Tobirama turned to smile at his brother.
“I’m sure. I’m not as forgetful as you are,” he said. Tears welled up in Hashirama’s eyes for the nth time that day (not to mention the past week) and he threw his arms around Tobirama in a death grip.
“Do you have to move so far away? What if I don’t ever get to see you? What if something happens and you need my help but it’ll take me forever to get there? What if—”
“Hashirama!” Tobirama all but whined, urging his brother to let go so he could take the man by the shoulders. “Nothing bad is going to happen. I’ll make sure to visit as much as I can. Or until Mito gets pissed off.”
“Not to worry,” came the smooth voice of the aforementioned woman. She appeared from around the truck, dusting off her hands. “I find your company rather pleasant. I must say it will be a challenge to keep this man in line without you,” she said, looping her arm through Hashirama’s. The elder Senju pouted.
“I’m not that much trouble, am I?” he asked; Mito rolled her eyes.
“Honestly, no sense of self-worth at all. What am I going to do with you?”
Tobirama chuckled at the two of them, then jumped slightly as he felt an arm loop around his waist.
“Everything’s packed,” Madara said. “We should head out soon. I want to get there before it gets dark.”
Hashirama dissolved into another blubbering mess as he clung to Madara as well. It took both Tobirama and Mito to pry him off this time.
“Call us when you get there!” he called after the two as they made way for Tobirama’s car. Madara’s motorcycle was strapped onto a trailer hooked onto the back. “Wear your seatbelts! Take turns driving! Remember to eat and take bathroom breaks!”
Tobirama promptly shut the door on his brother’s rambling, sighing as Madara climbed in on the passenger’s side. They gave each other mutually exasperated looks as they waited for the moving truck to pull out ahead of them and then began to back out themselves. Hashirama and Mito waved (one more enthusiastically than the other) and Yuina (the grey husky that had become Tobirama’s dog at one point or another) barked at them from the back of the car in lieu of the two men.
“I pity that poor woman,” Madara said, relaxing back in his seat and minding his tied-up hair (he had finally found a brand of hair ties that could withstand the gorgeous mess attached to Madara’s head).
“She’s put up with him for two years. I think she can handle herself,” Tobirama said with a smile.
Two years. It had been two years since Madara and Tobirama reunited. It almost felt surreal knowing that the two of them had been able to set aside the differences of their past selves in order to develop this beautiful relationship they shared. Before, Tobirama wouldn’t have thought it possible. Seven years ago, he wouldn’t have believed that Madara was capable of loving at all. Yet here they were, on their way to Elyria, Ohio, to move into a quaint little house waiting for them.
Mito had been the one to make that possible. “Consider it a gift of gratitude for watching over Hashirama all this time. The gods only know where he would have ended up otherwise.” The floorplan was far wider than what was strictly necessary for two people, but she had insisted and the both of them knew better than to argue with her. Her mother had been kind enough to pull some strings in the real estate agency that owned the property, and with that kind of deal they would have been stupid to refuse.
Tobirama was twenty now, Madara twenty-five, and they had decided to move in together once Madara had finished college. He had spent the last seven years earning a PhD in criminal justice and had been offered a position by Elyria’s community college to instruct as a professor while also contributing to affiliated criminal justice research programmes. Tobirama would also be attending that college enrolled in the associate of arts degree programme, wherein his major would be in engineering technologies while his minor would be in dance.
He had promised to find a job shortly after getting settled in since Madara had agreed to buy a car of his own due to noise ordinance policies (the neighbourhood they would be living in was smaller than those in Philadelphia, so more people were prone to complaint). Madara allowed him to be his intern (paid, although it was more like an allowance seeing as most of the money would be going to the same place anyway) until he had enough experience for a real job, which he was grateful for. He doubted many companies would hold being a junior instructor at a summer dance camp in high esteem. He blamed Hashirama for spoiling him and not making him get a job sooner.
It was a seven-hour drive from Philadelphia to Elyria, most of which was spent blaring trashy music and singing along at the tops of their voices, and when their voices got too hoarse to continue, they simply talked about nothing in particular until Madara decided to take a nap. He had been sleeping more regularly these days, almost excessively, but Tobirama wasn’t about to complain. It was better than watching the poor bastard drag himself through two or more days at a time on little to no sleep. Taking a nap now would allow him to be well-rested in a couple hours when they agreed to switch seats, anyway.
Getting to see such a peaceful expression on Madara wasn’t a bad bonus, either.
By the time they arrived at the house, Madara had to shake Tobirama awake. He blinked open bleary eyes and yawned, looking around to be met with a gentle smile on Madara’s face.
“We’re here,” he said quietly, leaning in to peck Tobirama’s forehead. The albino smiled, shrugging off his seatbelt as he glanced out the window to see the movers already hard at work unloading everything. Most of the larger pieces of furniture had been gifts from Hashirama, who had been trying to lessen his own possessions in preparation of moving in to a place with Mito (the house in the pictures he had showed Tobirama was huge, and Tobirama couldn’t help but preemptively dread the sheer number of dogs his brother would try to fit in there).
Speaking of dogs, Yuina barked excitedly from the back seat, fumbling back and forth from one door to the other as she waited to get out. Tobirama waved for Madara to go on ahead as he reached back to clasp the leash onto Yuina’s collar.
“Settle down, girl,” he coaxed, petting her head. He maneuvered around until he could open the back door and let the husky jump down, fluffy tail wagging eagerly as she strained against the leash and sniffed the air. Tobirama chuckled, walking her around the car to find Madara easing down his motorcycle.
“I’m gonna drive this into the spare garage,” he said. “We can put Yuina in there afterward while we move everything in.” Tobirama nodded, standing aside as Madara revved his motorcycle to life and drove down the length of the property to reach the separate garage in the back. The built-in garage was capable of holding three cars, which would come in handy should Hashirama and Mito come to visit, although both Tobirama and Madara agreed that it seemed a little excessive. The entirety of the house was excessive, but that was besides the point.
Once they were able to safely detain Yuina, they both returned to help the movers. Since they had left at nine, they had been able to get there by four, which left plenty of time to move things in while it was still daylight. The interior of the house seemed even larger than in the pictures, but Tobirama supposed that was because it was lacking in most of the furniture that it had been pictured with. Regardless, walking through the rooms lifted his heart in the best of ways. It solidified the reality that he was moving in with Madara, and that this was the next stage of their relationship.
Having moved in all the big pieces, Tobirama wandered out back to find a wide wrap-around deck that offered a lovely view of the forest to the back of the house. He leaned against the railing, inhaling deeply. The air held a fresher note here than what he was used to and he already loved it. He imagined that Hashirama would have loved this place even more, what with all the trees and the wide windows for house plants. He could just picture that fool of a man running through the forest with a doofy grin on his face. He could picture it so vividly, in fact, that being struck with its absence almost startled him. He had been adamantly avoiding the fact that this would be the first time he lived away from his brother, and so far away at that, but now he had nowhere to run from the realization and he shook slightly as it settled in.
A pair of arms wound around his waist then, making him jump slightly. Madara rested his chin on Tobirama’s shoulder, a serene look on his face.
“I have a good feeling about this place,” he said, leaning his head against Tobirama’s. The latter hummed.
“It’s nice here,” he said. His choice of wording seemed to catch Madara’s attention, and the man tilted his head to look at him.
“But?” he asked. Tobirama pursed his lip, allowing a hint of his anxiety to slip through.
“It’s nothing, I just… It’s weird being away from Hashirama,” he confessed. “We’ve always been so close. He’s been more than a brother to me ever since Mom and Dad died.” Madara placed a gentle kiss on his shoulder.
“I know what you mean, a little,” he said. “When it was just me and Izuna… Uncle Indra took us in for a while, but he wasn’t the best person to take care of children. I learned how to pick up the slack, and when Izuna died… It was more than just losing a brother. I guess that’s why Hashirama worries about you so much.”
Tobirama nodded silently. It had gotten easier for Madara to talk about Izuna as they had talked about the incident as a whole. Tobirama was able to tell him exactly what happened and fill in some of the blanks that Madara didn’t know about. As it turned out, Orochimaru was involved, but they had changed their appearance so much that it was no wonder Tobirama hadn’t recognized them that night at the club. If he had… Tobirama didn’t want to think about what he would have done. Nor what Madara would have done had he known just what Orochimaru’s history was like.
Orochimaru had taken more of an interest in the Uchiha family than Madara had initially thought. They had sought after Izuna in ways that an eighteen year old had no right to seek after a thirteen year old. Tobirama had been out practicing his break dancing on the basketball court of a local park when he had seen Izuna being chased by some older kids (who had been some of the more questionable members of Madara’s gang, including Orochimaru). Tobirama had followed them in secret until they cornered Izuna under a small bridge. He overheard them saying that Izuna had had no business snooping around their “gang meeting”, and that he was going to pay for what he’d heard. Tobirama had jumped in after the first punch was thrown, taking the second one to his jaw, and the third, and the fourth. Being as young as he was, he didn’t stand a chance against all five of them (Orochimaru, Hidan, Mizuki, Zabuza, and Kabuto), but he had provided enough of a distraction for Izuna to slip away. Tobirama fell unconscious after a few more brutal blows.
He awoke sometime later to find himself being dragged by his hair along hard, wet pavement. He writhed, half-conscious, in pain until he was thrown against a concrete barrier. He saw Izuna being forced on top of it, bloody and bruised like Tobirama, and some of his clothes were torn. The older boys were saying things to Izuna that Tobirama couldn’t hear, but what he could hear was the faint rush of water nearby. Moving sluggishly, he was able to pull himself up with the barrier to find a sharp drop off on the other side, a broad river waiting below. The Mississippi River.
Tobirama remembered wondering briefly why there hadn’t been any cars passing over that bridge to see them, but later recalled that that bridge had been closed off for construction. There had been no one around to see them at that time of night. They had been all alone.
Someone pushed Izuna. Tobirama moved without thinking. He remembered hanging onto the sobbing boy while clinging to the top of the barrier himself, vision blurred by his own frightful tears. Four of the five pursuers loomed over them, Orochimaru nowhere in sight, and then he saw the lights of cop cars. The four faceless silhouettes panicked. Tobirama remembered movement, but his adrenalized frenzy had blocked out most of the details. He was fairly certain he had blacked out again at some point. All he remembered thereafter was being in a hospital bed while Hashirama told him that Izuna had fallen into the river. Madara had barged in then, all tears and fury, barely held back by nurses and security.
“You bastard! I’ll fucking kill you! I swear I’ll fucking kill you!”
Tobirama winced at the memory. Madara had disappeared for five years after that, until their fated reunion in Philadelphia.
Apparently the ones involved with the incident had told Madara that Tobirama was at fault for Izuna’s death, claiming that he had chased the boy to the bridge and shoved him off himself. Police reports proved otherwise, but they lacked the evidence to pin the blame on anyone in particular. Tobirama’s memory had been practically nonexistent at the time, and he only remembered as much as he did after some time had passed. There were still plenty of holes that even he couldn’t fill in.
“Tobirama?” Madara’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he glanced down to see the man blinking up at him. Tobirama offered an easy smile, resting his hands on the arms still wrapped around him.
“Sorry. I was just thinking.” Turning back to give the forest one more look of longing, he turned to walk back into the house, Madara wobbling behind him as he refused to let go.
“You don’t have to worry so much,” the Uchiha said. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Tobirama smiled softly, pausing in the middle of the house to relax in Madara’s arms.
“I know.”
fin.