Wabi-Sabi

***

There are two kinds of guilt: the kind that drowns you until you're useless, and the kind that fires your soul to purpose.

Sabaa Tahir, An Ember in the Ashes

***

Madara wakes up on his sixth birthday and randomly decides to spend the morning by the river.

His morning katas are interrupted by a bubbly boy with a bowl cut and way too much energy, and as he approaches, the Rinnegan pulses, spins.

And it begins.

The memories flood back slowly enough that it's just like one long dream.

They spend a few years relearning their world, letting the memories sink in, and training as much as possible.

The Kyuubi and Moro lurk far away, at the edge of the world, their chakra a distant comfort.

They're much stronger now than in any previous life, the gulf between them and the rest even more obvious.

Madara buries his siblings one by one, and Hashirama cries over his brothers. They take missions by themselves, sneaking across the land to ensure they know where Zetsu is.

It takes two well-placed assassinations to wake him up early, and Madara sacrifices a stranger to send him up to the cave to release him.

They're hesitant now to push so early for peace, but neither of them are quiet about their dreams. 

Tajima dies in his bed in this life, an influenza pandemic that decimates every clan, including the Senju, and is strangely at peace with it. At least, for a man Madara mainly remembers for his refusal to take anything lying down. 

Madara cries as his father's body burns. Another in the long list of people Madara will never be able to save, but this one's probably for the best. Uchiha Tajima hasn't really been with them since he buried his last wife.

Izuna is no more accepting of peace than he was in that first life, but Madara has learned to slowly introduce the idea instead of trying to ram it down his throat, and they are growing as close as they ever did in the best of the lives he's had so far.

Butsuma….doesn't die.

He does something much worse, and maybe they never realized, because he never lived this long before, but he's not….healthy. 

Mentally.

Broken the way some shinobi become when they've finally gone over that edge, and nothing can put them back together.

But there's something else to it that goes beyond breaking. Butsuma always had a cruel streak, according to Hashirama, especially where the gentler members of the clan were concerned. He didn't like shinobi that didn't like to kill. 

If Hashirama hadn't had the Mokuton Madara's convinced, he would have died young, just like his brother's, and it wouldn't have been at the hand of the Uchiha.

As it is, they have to take a step back from peace when they're sixteen to give Hashirama the space to deal with his father.

Their sixteenth year is also when they reunite with Kurama.

***

When you choose your friends, don't be short-changed by choosing personality over character.

W.Somerset Maugham

***

Two missions that result in both of them being in the Land of Snow at the same time, so they meet up on the way and enjoy being free from their responsibilities for a moment.

They make short work of the missions, two simple assassinations, and most of the effort goes to crossing from one end of the mountain range to the other undetected.

Butsuma is already watching Hashirama for signs of rebellion.

The last thing they need is rumors spreading.

***

Tobirama paid a painful price for reporting their meetings this go around.

A beating so vicious and brutal that Hashirama and Madara had been overwhelmed with guilt and not met for months while he recovered in the hospital.

***

But the concern doesn't stop them from taking a few extra days and heading up to the lodge that's somehow still there and the hot springs.

"We're terrible, selfish people," Madara mutters as he sinks into the water with a grateful sigh and puts off thinking about all the things they still have to do.

Hashirama, submerged, gurgles and blows bubbles next to him in response.

"Infant," Madara cackles and shoves him further under, confident in his victory until Hashirama gets a hand around his ankle, and then they're twisting and writhing and laughing as they try to dunk one another.

Given that they're sixteen and healthy and so, so fond of one another, well, there's a natural progression. 

They're rubbing against one another and just getting to the good part when an amused voice rings out.

"You two smell like a couple of bonobos in heat."

They leap apart as Kurama's face appears over the edge of the spring, Madara shrieking as Hashirama screams.

"WHA-WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! YOU DON'T JUST SAY THINGS LIKE THAT! WERE YOU WATCHING? WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?"

"WE'RE TEENAGERS! IT'S COMPLETELY NORMAL TO WANT TO DO IT THIS MUCH!"

Naturally, the stupid fox finds their embarrassment amusing, howling with laughter as they turn red and duck down until anything embarrassing is hidden by the water.

"Why are you hiding?" Kurama cackles, "It's not like you've got anything impressive. Ohhh, is that why? Shy, little humans!"

"IT'S BIGGER THAN YOURS!" Madara's mouth running away with him as always.

"The hell it is!" Kurama barks.

"YOU CHEAT!" Hashirama laughs, "You can change your size at will!"

"DOESN'T COUNT!" Madara nearly drowning as he laughs, too.

"I'll show you cheating!" Kurama shrieks, fur rising, and then his eyes go wide with surprise, his claws scrambling against the stone as he tumbles headfirst into the spring.

He comes up sputtering and soaked as Moro, Noa, and Hoshi peer over the edge.

"Only children compare the size of anything," Moro shakes her head as Noa and Hoshi laugh. Still only pups; their heads only come up to Madara's shoulder, but they're the spitting image of their great white wolf mother.

"Moro!" 

"Why is Pretty Flower always happier to see me than you, cub?"

"Because he has no sense of decorum," Madara sniffs. "He's like some fairytale princess-ARE THERE FLOWERS IN YOUR HAIR?!"

Beautiful chrysanthemums and peonies bloom like a crown around Hashirama's head as he nuzzles Hoshi, the only one of Moro's pack willing to put up with it.

Moro shoves her pups into the spring before stepping in herself and baring her teeth at a sulking Kurama, and they spend a relaxing evening roughhousing and bemoaning the fact that they can't share these moments with anyone else yet.

"Next time," Hashirama declares dramatically, "Next time, we'll bring Tobi and Izu! They need to relax some."

"It'll take more than a few days at a hot spring to get the stick out of your brother's-"

"Don't talk about Tobi's-"

"They'd drown you both for the amount of noise you make," Moro mutters.

"Tobi would never do that!" Though even Hashirama doesn't look completely convinced.

"He absolutely would," Madara mutters, "So would Izuna."

"Oh kami," Hashirama laughs, "They'd team up on us."

"Just to destroy us," Madara agrees, and they ignore Moro shaking her head as they make plans for their brothers to be as close as they are.

***

A week later, they meet on the battlefield, leading opposing forces.

The fight is a joke. 

They have trained for so long and fought together for so long that it's more of a dance than an actual fight, even as their bodies are still relearning.

They trade a few pointless blows and use an encroaching thunderstorm as a reason to call an end to it.

And there are plenty in both of their clans who aren't pleased with the lackluster first showing.

He loses two small children to bloodline thieves and goes after the group responsible with such rage and violence that the Damiyo censors him, and Hashirama sends a carefully encoded letter apologizing for not being able to come. 

Butsuma has taken the censoring as permission to step up the war, and Hashirama can't be sure he wasn't involved with the bloodline thieves. Madara destroys a training field at the edge of the compound when he reads that and has to answer for it to the Council of Elders.

He's less and less willing to entertain them this go around. The Rinnegan has gotten into the habit of throbbing whenever Oda is near, a warning Madara has been careful not to ignore and hasn't shown the old man his back once in this lifetime.

The only bright, promising thing at the moment is Izuna.

Or rather, Izuna's love life. His brother had been struck the day before, gone stiff like he'd been hit by a lightning bolt when he'd happened across a patrol returning to report to Madara.

Izuna and Midoriko, a kunoichi who'd grown up in the house next door and whom, until yesterday, he'd had a passionately adversarial relationship with, had taken one look at one another yesterday afternoon in front of the main gate and that had been it.

Izuna had turned redder than the Sharingan, and Midoriko, carried back by her patrol with a broken leg, had suddenly leaped to her feet.

It had taken Madara and Hikaku an hour to calm them both down to the point where they wouldn't have to worry about one of them ending up injured.

Or more injured than they already were in Midoriko's case. 

They'd presented themselves to Madara that morning with the news that they were getting married, and it had only taken hours before the entire clan knew. The wedding had raised the clan's spirits after the recent funerals, and even Madara had found himself smiling in the quiet minutes of the day.

Izuna had always been startlingly defiant of the idea of marriage and children. He hadn't had to worry about it until all their older siblings died. Madara had always wanted his own children, though. As many as his spouse would put up with.

For a brief second, he let his mind wander to Hashirama's toe-headed brother and his bright red eyes.

Those eyes would look lovely with Madara's dark hair.

Not that they weren't absolutely gorgeous with Tobirama's snow white.

Either way, their children would have been stunning.

And that was enough of that.

Tobirama hated him just as much in this lifetime as he had in all the others, and thinking about it was ruining the high of Izuna's happiness.

Midoriko specialized in taijutsu and was one of the few in the clan who could still challenge Madara and Izuna, but her weakness in genjutsu despite achieving the Sharingan, had sidelined her from leadership positions under the older generation.

Her marriage to Izuna gave Madara an excuse to make her one of the new patrol leaders instead of Oda's useless grandson, and he cackles a bit as he writes out the order.

The old man can shove it up his-

***

When friendships are real, they are not glass threads or frost work, but the solidest things we can know.

Ralph Waldo Emerson, Essays: First Series

***

The first memory Hashirama has of Tobirama is a tiny, red, wrinkled, screaming thing that he'd loved at first sight.

He still loves him. 

Even though now he's a big, pale, smooth, screaming thing. 

Who frequently has sharp objects in at least one hand and a concerning willingness to use them.

Hashirama loves his baby brother, but he also doesn't want to die anytime soon.

At least not before he and Madara kill Zetsu and stop Kaguya.

And he would like to see their wedding…

If that ever happens.

He's learned to be sparing with his mentions of his best friend. Tobirama tolerates them better than anyone else in the clan, but that's because of his personal loyalty to Hashirama and not some genuine interest.

Butsuma tends to respond with assassination attempts these days. Touka has no patience for what she calls Hashirama's idle daydreams, and Renji is still too immature to do anything but follow the blind hatred of the older generation. There's Sana, one of Tobirama and Renji's year mates, but the gentle girl can barely fight when her own life is on the line and hasn't ever managed to hit someone successfully out of anger.

Hell, he's never even seen her get angry. She just bursts into tears. He likes her, but her gentleness has rendered her useless to the clan's shinobi, and even the nicer ones, like Tobirama, refuse to do missions with her.

Madara has a much more promising crop coming up. Mainly because his Sharingan ruled the roost, as it were, and all of the younger ones looked to him as opposed to any of the older Uchiha. 

For all that Butsuma insisted the Sharingan was a blight on mankind, it allowed Madara some semblance of unquestionable power among his clan. His elders could argue and scheme all they wanted, but they couldn't directly challenge him unless one of them had a Sharingan that surpassed his.

And, well….

That didn't exist. 

And probably wouldn't until Fugaku's children were born.

He drifted off into a daydream of the future. 

Or was it a memory supplied by the Rinnegan?

Did it matter? Either way, it was beautiful. Four healthy children whose smiles wouldn't be so brittle this time around.

And worth the few inches of hair he lost when Tobirama realized he'd zoned out in the middle of his lecture.

What would Tobirama have been like if he'd grown up in peace times? Would he smile more? It was a rare occurrence these days. Unless he was sequestered away in his lab and people actually left him alone long enough to work on something.

Maybe he'd actually like Madara if they'd grown up without war to make them so unyielding.

Although Madara was a complete cream puff for the people he cared for and trusted.

The softest Tobirama got was akin to a porcupine that hadn't decided whether or not to stick you yet.

And Hashirama got poked a lot.

What was Izuna like? He idolized Madara but retained a significantly independent personality. Hashirama's memories from that handful of lives where they'd lived together in the village and grown close enough to actually know one another brought to mind a wolf, independent and pack-minded at the same time and utterly vicious in a fight.

Just like their family summons.

Madara's last communication had included news of Izuna's upcoming marriage, and Hashirama had already set aside a set of handcrafted decorative kunai to hand off as a gift.

Apparently, getting gifts from Hashirama via Madara drove the younger brother up the wall.

And a little teasing was never a bad thing.

Their meetings were an open secret now, with just enough plausible deniability that Hashirama can't currently be tried for treason. However, he's toeing the line.

Each day that passes with no progress on finding Zetsu or dealing with Butsuma makes him more and more willing to cross it.

He's only sixteen, but he thinks he has enough support to take over. This issue is his father's old guard and what he'll have to promise to get enough support, and there's not much point if he has to promise to continue the war with the Uchiha.

He doesn't want to become the type of leader his father is, doing whatever he wants without listening to anyone else or accepting any accountability.

Butsuma wants the world to burn for all these perceived hurts, but he won't acknowledge the hurts the Senju themselves have caused. Hashirama is more aware than most that his clan does not have clean hands.

None of them do anymore.

Not even the four Noble clans, not even the alleged pacifists, the Shimura, or the above it all triad of Ino-Shika-Cho.

Leaders like that were the reason the Land of Fire was so soaked in blood.

No wonder someone as smart as Tobirama can't understand 'peace'. Hashirama and Madara are going to have to burn the whole damn thing down to ashes and build it back up brand new to make something that works. 

So much work.

Hashirama's never considered himself lazy; his priorities shift and adapt from hour to hour, but he does his work….eventually.

But just thinking about everything that needs to be done is daunting, and thinking about all the times they've tried and almost made it is enough to send him to bed in tears.

But there's no stopping now.

Everything they've sacrificed and everything they've been through would all be for nothing if they stop now, so they just have to keep pressing forward and suffering until they make it through.

But if he has to sit through one more strategy meeting with his father and the elders, he's just going to stage his coup immediately. What's supposed to be planning for the clan's future always develops into complaining about the Uchiha and scheming new ways to screw them over, regardless of how it affects the Senju themselves, for hours.

He doesn't understand how Tobirama manages to stay alert and engaged the entire damn time.

***

Friendship is delicate as a glass, once broken it can be fixed, but there will always be cracks.

Waqar Ahmed

***

Tobirama learned early on how to deal with his father. 

Bow and call him sir, and never, ever argue with him in public. 

Even in private, it generally resulted in a beating. He still had bruises from their disagreement the week before. 

Butsuma was becoming less patient and more violent as the years went on, especially towards the other clans. And it directly correlated to Hashirama's growing rebellion. 

Their father was likely a psychopath, but he wasn't stupid. He must have felt his grip on his eldest son and the Mokuton slipping, and he was taking it out on everyone else because he lacked the strength to challenge Hashirama one on one.

Tobirama was no fool. He didn't believe in Hashirama's idealized dream, but he did know that Hashirama was a better leader for the clan than their father.

Never mind that a rock would be a better leader at this point. 

As long as Hashirama kept things practical….

The chance that Madara was going to up and agree to peace was slim anyway. The Uchiha were too emotional, driven by their id and their egos instead of logic and reason.

Madara would never put aside the rage and hurt to forgive and forget. The Uchiha weren't made that way.

Neither were the Senju, for that matter.

Was any shinobi besides Hashirama?

No matter what his well-meaning brother achieved, there would always be someone else around to tear it down, so what was the point?

Tobirama would rather follow his brother than anyone else, but that didn't mean he believed in Hashirama's dream any more than he believed in anyone else's. 

And he didn't have his own, no matter how many times Hashirama asked. He just wanted to keep going forward on the path, survive as long as he could, and take as many enemies as possible with him when the time finally came.

His father had forbidden him from having children, afraid his cursed coloring and strange habits would spread.

It was always strangely amusing to have his father accuse him of being the rebellious son who didn't listen when Hashirama made no secret of his friendship with the Uchiha, and Tobirama held the highest body count in the clan.

There was no one better at killing Uchiha than the Senju Ghost.

That night, as he stood under the water until it ran cold, he scribbled his hands until his own blood replaced the blood of the two children whose lives he'd taken.

Butsuma had clapped him on the shoulder after, saying how proud he was that his cursed child was useful. 

Finally being a boon to the clan.

Hashirama hadn't been around when they'd returned from the mission, and Tobirama had resigned himself to the comfort of a shower rather than his brother's arms.

He was probably off meeting with Madara. Taking advantage of Tobirama and Butsuma's absence to sneak out. 

It hurt. Knowing that Hashirama preferred their enemy to him. His brother was the epitome of stubborn kindness, willing to love everyone, even their lifelong enemy. 

Even if that person didn't love him back.

It wasn't surprising; they were so, so different after all, but it still hurt.

His own brother…

Did Izuna feel this way? He always seemed so blindly loyal, obediently following Madara around like a dog. 

Tobirama was always arguing with Hashirama. Did Izuna argue with Madara?

Probably not. 

He was a proper brother. Loyal and obedient and silent unless spoken to.

The Uchiha didn't think that far outside the box. Tangled up in some obsessive, toxic love that Tobirama couldn't understand.

And deep, deep inside, desperately envied.

And it made him angry. 

Was he so unlovable and untrustworthy that his own brother turned to the enemy instead of him?

Why wasn't Tobirama worthy of his love?

Of anyone's?

The anger spurred him to action, and the hurt drove him out of the compound and straight for the river.

***

... the companions of our childhood always possess a certain power over our minds which hardly any later friend can obtain.

Mary Shelley, Frankenstein: The 1818 Text

***

Izuna was going to smack the shit out of his big brother as soon as he found him.

What was that moron thinking sneaking out now? While the Council of Elders was holding its weekly meeting to try and over through him?

He'd lost his damn mind, and Izuna was going to knock it back into him with force.

He was probably down at the river with that damn Senju because he wasn't even bothering to hide that shit anymore. Not since Izuna had married Midi and Madara had been able to kick out the last of the Elder's picks for patrol leaders. 

The old geezers were going to fucking assassinate him if he kept this up.

They were probably planning it already. He thought as he jumped the compound wall and headed for the river.

And the fucker hadn't even told him what had changed? Izuna was his closest ally in the clan if you didn't count Kikyo, who'd exiled herself to the mountain, and Hikaku, who mostly spent his time cleaning up their messes and wanted nothing to do with actual leadership.

Something was going on with Madara that he wouldn't confide in any of them about. 

And not even Kikyo or Moro would tell Izuna without Madara's consent. The stubbornness made him want to rip his hair out.

Or someone else's.

Whatever it was had to do with his eyes, he was sure of it. Madara had practically been refusing to use his Sharingan lately. Either they were degrading faster than expected, or he'd unlocked something else that he didn't want the Elder's learning about.

Something Izuna really, really didn't want to think about.

But his own Sharingan had been singing lately. Reaching for something that Izuna couldn't quite see yet but whose presence grew stronger daily.

It was a presence that hung over Madara, a cloud whose edges Izuna could never find when he reached for them.

Which meant Madara had done something incredibly stupid and needed to be beaten for it.

Fucker was always sacrificing himself instead of asking for help.

How did Izuna end up related to someone so stupid?

And what-

The images came on so fast that Izuna couldn't stop himself mid-leap and ended up sprawled on the forest floor.

He may have been screaming, he couldn't be sure, couldn't hear it over the screams in his head as he watched Madara sink into the darkness, watched Zetsu and his bitch of a mother rise.

Watched the world end and then not.

That bright-eyed boy and his Uchiha other half.

Kaguya.

Madara was preparing to fight Kaguya.

The Mother of Chakra was making her play early.

In their lifetime.

Fucking hell.

Izuna had thought they'd die without having to deal with her, and she'd been quiet for so long. 

She'd gotten Madara, and now he was trying again.

And that fucking idiot was trying to do it alone.

Again.

The influx from the Sharingan- no, from the Rinnegan, the depthless cloud that was hanging around Madara, was exhausting. 

And powerful enough to paralyze Izuna on the forest floor from over a mile away. 

Staring up at the glittering night sky, he watched Madara wither away, watched Fugaku's sons, their grandchildren, grow and die, and sacrifice and win.

So there was hope, no matter how bad it seemed. 

Hope.

Such a fleeting thing. Intangible and yet so present you could swear your fingertips touched it.

Kaguya had nearly destroyed the world in that future the Rinnegan was sharing. 

And yet, they had a chance to do it over and fight it in this time.

Madara was obviously planning to kill Zetsu before he woke Kaguya, and he needed the Senju heir to do it.

Which meant the Uchiha needed him.

Damn.

Now, Izuna was going to have to put up with him on a daily basis.

But they were going to need more than just Hashirama, no matter how strong he and Madara were.

Summoning what was left of his chakra, Izuna reached out to the other Sharingans and pushed.

***

Crush all those fuckers who said, "You're not strong enough."

Me (Llewellynprince)

***

~tbc~